Buscar:st concrete listen past me

Originally released in 2008 on Ezekiel Honig’s own Anticipate Recordings, Surfaces of a Broken Marching Band finds the artist refining a compositional language rooted in the methodologies of musique concrete, ambient, and beat research. Working from a palette of environmental recordings, instrumental fragments, and soft electronic treatments, Honig pushes the source material into an array of sympathetic forms ranging from pillow-soft, lowercase ambient to diffuse downtempo and minimal house. For its reissue on Keplar, the album has been remastered by Kassian Troyer (D&M), bringing a new clarity to its intricate, low-lit architectures.

Throughout the record, serving almost as audiographic guideposts, are faint but insistent gestures toward propulsion, an abiding and recurrent 4/4 pulse that guides the music laterally and instantiates a slow negotiation between its various elements. This music invites close listening precisely by not revealing itself all at once, allowing small collisions of timbre and subtle shifts in emphasis to carry the weight. The traces of lived environments that remain embedded in the mix - distant crowds, sounds of transit, the indistinct acoustics of interiors in flux - expand the frame without breaking its intimacy, creating a potent dislocation between the nearness of the sound and the scale of its sources.

Rather than foregrounding any single voice, this is music that distributes attention equally across its materials, allowing background details to assert their presence as much as melody or rhythm. Honig presents listeners with an astute practice that’s concerned less with building from the ground up than with uncovering what happens when disparate textures and structures are brought into close contact with one another. (Alex Cobb, 2026)

We’re teaming up with ELUCID and Fat Possum for a limited edition of 300 copies of a Rush Hour black ice coloured edition.

E L U C I D, one half of the illustrious duo Armand Hammer, is here with the full-length follow-up to 'I Told Bessie'. Further experiments in the sonic, expanding on the 'live' side of music paired with the embracing of chaos. Something you haven't heard, or not so for a very long time. E L U C I D is here to reveal the bleakness of reality.



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''There is never time in the future in which we will work out our salvation. The challenge is in the moment; the time is always now.''
James Baldwin

A raw, crackling urgency runs through rapper-producer ELUCID’s new album REVELATOR like an underground power line. There is no space here for sepia-toned reminiscences or indulgent self-mythologizing. Intellectual rabbit holes have been filled in with concrete and rebar ; there is nowhere to hide and no off ramp from the audio Autobahn that ELUCID has fashioned—a renegade Robert Moses with gold fronts, bulldozing the homes of the powerful and the complicit. REVELATOR brims with the energy of now, with a refusal to look away. Carpe diem in a murder one mask.

Born in Jamaica, Queens, ELUCID has been on the cutting edge of New York’s underground scene since the mid-2000s. From the beginning, he has defied both convention and expectation. He ran with Okayplayer darlings Tanya Morgan, but his own music eschewed their throwback charm for glitchy noise experiments and bass-swamped culture jamming. His 2016 debut studio project Save Yourself (re-released in a deluxe edition last year) announced him in earnest. But in recent years, his Armand Hammer releases with partner-in-crime billy woods have received significant attention and acclaim. Serving as a followup to his last solo album—2022’s comparatively balmy I Told Bessie—ELUCID hoped to “re-distinguish” himself with REVELATOR, setting himself apart amidst the increasing attention around the music he and his friends are making together.

For ELUCID, this meant setting bold new challenges for himself. One of these was diving further into live instrumentation than ever before—”getting my Quincy Jones on,” as he puts it. The testing ground for this approach was Armand Hammer’s most recent project, 2023’s We Buy Diabetic Test Strips’ Möbius strip soundscapes, warmed with instrumental flourishes and skin-shedding beat progressions. With REVELATOR, though, ELUCID strove to create an atmosphere of chaos, embracing experimental electronics and atonal sample bursts. He worked on much of the album with co-producer Jon Nellen, who comes from a background in avant-garde and Indian classical music. “I wanted to get as freaky as I could at this moment. I wanted people to hear things, maybe for the first time, or in a way they haven’t for a long while,” the rapper explains.

ELUCID arrived at the studio with a collection of noise sources: non-referential samples, glitches and noises. Together he, Nellen, and others created forms out of them and, as ELUCID recalls, “just started playing drums with it.” Their fried, distorted sound was directly inspired by Miles Davis at his most uncompromising—specifically, the tone-clustering funk track “Rated X” from his 1974 double LP Get Up With It. At times, the pairing of rap with avant-fusion sounds also brings Emergency! from The Tony Williams Lifetime to mind, perhaps in an alternate timeline where the late drummer was listening to Ice Cube’s AmeriKKKa’s Most Wanted.

“The World is Dog,” REVELATOR’s lead single, functions as the album’s aesthetic thesis statement. Like the Davis track, the textures are punishing, the tonality is in free-fall, and the driving breakbeat of a groove cuts in and out unceremoniously. Avant-jazz bassist Luke Stewart, who appears throughout the record, holds the whole thing together just long enough for ELUCID to tightwalk over the beat. This tension is exactly where REVELATOR sets itself apart; in a time of drumless loops, and safe soul samples, this is a high-wire act with no safety net. Similarly, the song announces the themes of the album within just a few phrases, evoking the way societies accept and adjust to new levels of debasement and brutality while suffocating under the weight of history: “Can’t clock the kill, all a mystery/Forced past will eating everyone eventually/The world is dog.”

Many of the songs on REVELATOR grapple obliquely with dissolution and disenfranchisement in America and across the world—the grim realities of our domestic sociopolitical climate and our involvement in foreign conflicts. “Much of my artistic and political sensibility comes from the Black arts movement here in New York,” ELUCID explains. “Recognizing the interconnected global struggles against oppression, artists and thinkers created works and actions in solidarity with freedom movements in South Africa and Palestine.” ELUCID cites intellectuals like Amiri Baraka, Kwame Nkrumah, Audre Lorde, Sonia Sanchez, and Nikki Giovanni among his heroes. (One track on the album is specifically inspired by Lorde’s work, “SKP,” citing the scholar’s paper “Uses of the Erotic: The Erotic As Power.”) Songs like REVELATOR’s insistent closer “ZIGZAGZIG,” find ELUCID applying up-to-the-minute messaging, making explicit reference to the conflict in Gaza: “Feed a war machine…from river to sea, in lieu of peace.”

Despite ELUCID’s preference for cacophonous system overload here, the rapper also provides moments of respite. Recorded at The Alchemist’s Los Angeles studio, the laid-back, wheezing “INSTANT TRANSFER” is a collaboration with billy woods, which crystallizes their shared sense of creative determination. “With much momentum behind us and even more on the horizon, I knew a purpose, and that every step was ordered to that purpose,” ELUCID said of the experience. Meanwhile, the jittery “HUSHPUPPIES” is a playful anomaly on the track list, providing a snapshot of ELUCID watching his grandparents in the kitchen while preparing for Friday night fish fry dinners.

“Love still rules over on this side,” ELUCID says. ”I’m raising a family. We are making meaning and finding joy in the midst of all the fucked up-ness of everything around us because the alternative is cowardice and slow death. We remain rooted. We celebrate our people and our wins. Struggle is necessary.”

“IKEBANA” is one of ELUCID’s strongest statements of purpose on the record, blending the record’s heaviest themes with its most hopeful sentiments. supported by a shoutalong refrain and an urgent prog-funk groove. Breaking away from images of dissolution and crumbling societal systems that populate REVELATOR, ELUCID notes that the only way to navigate life’s bleakest landscapes is to cling to love and believe in those around you—to look forward toward something better that may or may not be possible. For the rapper, one of the album’s most trenchant lines comes during a centerpiece of a beat drop: “Being alive/I must look up.”

“The lyric ‘being alive I must look up’ is important especially in the context of this album. Much of the album imagery is harsh and reflects the actual doom some of us experience. But still I/we exist,” ELUCID explains.

Every artist is, in one way or another, the product of their time, bound by life’s leaden gravity to operate within the space of that which is already known. But there are some who are able to shake free of these ties, to shape the culture as it unfolds, to make the present their own.
Revelation, as a concept, points to the scales falling from people’s eyes—something that has been hiding in plain sight becoming clear. “The revelator relates to things that have been talked about, things that have been forecasted,” ELUCID adds. “And now they’re really here, and everyone sees it. And there’s no escaping.” REVELATOR plays out with the unmitigated power of those storms, laying waste to any genre conventions in pursuit of a certain physicality. Here, ELUCID develops a wholly distinctive musical language to explore our fractured modernity.

REVELATOR's packaging was designed by longtime Armand Hammer / Backwoodz art director, Alexander Richter.

There is propably no single event that has as potent of an
effect on the german Techno- scene as the fall of the Berlin
Wall. A city divided suddenly, in one single night, became
uni¦ed, opening up both sides for the new experiences and
ways to view life the other might have. Berlin’s eastside with
it’s empty, unused warehouses proved to be a fertile breeding
ground for free spirits and those carrying a newfound ¦re in
their eyes. This was the zero hour. The Consolidation. And it
is this mindset, spirit and ¦re of Consolidation that Shaleen
conjures on her debut EP of the same name. The title track
opens up by sampling John F. Kennedy’s legendary “Berlin”
speech from 1964, before absolutely caving in the concrete
with a beyond-heavy kickdrum and a very stripped down but
effective 909-percussion section. Spursed in along the track’s
runtime are droning sirens and JFK continuing to beckon you
to lose yourself in the metropolitan bowels. This is the
anthem of a past revolution. On Deconstruction, Shaleen
goes down a slightly more basement oriented route. The
Percussion shares the title track’s stripped down
effectiveness, but the Groove is more rolling, the Vocal
samples are more distorted and there are sharp synths
cutting through the beats like shards of broken glass. Of
course, a revolution wouldn’t be complete without a mob so
both Cadency aka Hector Oaks and New Frames have put
their spin on the EP’s title track. Mr. Cadeny is up ¦rst and,
being no stranger to revolutionary anthems, has given
Consolidation an almost contemplative mood in his Remix,by adding a very subtle melody. This doesn’t mean it hits any
less hard, mind you, there is an incredibly strong drive to the
track, paired with an almost constantly looping vocal and the
sirens going into overdrive, this would be the track to drive
crowds into a frenzy. Meanwhile New Frames’ track is the
kind of thing you wouldn’t want to encounter alone in a dark
alleyway. The sub-basses are heavy enough to terraform
Mars, the Jungle-esque Synthlines roar and snarl at the
listener and every drop feels like a right hook to the chin. The
original’s vocal is cut in a way that it only adds to the
stomping rhythm, putting you in a mood to throw bricks. So
while this record showcases an aggressive sound and a
mood for revolution, it is important to remember it’s title.
Consolidation. It echoes a message of uni¦cation. Of
standing together. Because together we are, have been and
will always be stronger than by ourselves.

»Music for Shared Rooms« is B. Fleischmann’s eleventh solo album and his first since 2018. It is also not an album, or at least not in the conventional sense of the word. These 16 instrumental pieces provide a kaleidoscopic glimpse of a forward-thinking musician at home in many different musical worlds, including experimental and abstract music, pop and more classically-minded compositional forms. These pieces were culled from an archive of roughly 600 compositions for theatre pieces and films written throughout the past twelve years. The Österreichischer Filmpreis-awarded composer, however, aimed for more than simply documenting his extensive work in and with different media. To do so, he edited and re-mixed the individual recordings for this release, taking them out of their contexts and reworking them for an audience who can experience them in a different setting. »Music for Shared Rooms« makes it possible for its listeners to engage with the sounds and to fill the spaces they open up with their own imagination.

Roughly speaking, music for theatre or film can serve two functions: it either takes the lead, or underscores what is happening on stage or screen. The marvelous thing about these pieces is that they manage to do both. Fleischmann’s work as a prolific producer has always drawn on contrasts, at times combining pop sentiment with rigid experimentation, the seemingly naive with the intricate and complex. This approach also marks the tracks collected here: bringing together acoustic elements and electronic sounds, at times working with conventional structures but always de- and re-contextualising them, Fleischmann constructs a vivid dramaturgy out of discrete singular compositions, letting them interact across the record.

Take, for example, the opener »Träumerei« and the following »Brenne«: after the soothing acoustic sounds of the former, the latter quickly picks up speed with hard-hitting drum machine rhythms. It’s a stark contrast sonically and stylistically, however both tracks are tied together by a certain harmonic sensibility. This sort of dramaturgical interconnectedness of varied musical materials is the thread that runs through »Music for Shared Rooms«. A droney piece for string instruments like »Sehnsucht« is followed by a trip-hop beat, before »Schock« lives up to its title with skittering beats and piercing high frequencies. The differences between the pieces may be striking, but the progression from one to the other is subtle. It goes on like this through different moods and tempos. There’s soothing-yet-eerie piano pieces like the »Für Elise«-inspired »Der Lärmkrieg«, gentle house grooves, joyful synthesizer excursions and, finally, »Die Erde ist mir fremd geworden«, a collage of abstract textures and concrete sounds.

All these pieces create distinct situations through the juxtaposition of diverse musical elements, but are also bound together by a single vision. Writing music for theatre pieces or film requires a composer and his pieces to engage with people and their movements in space, which is exactly what Fleischmann offers on this record. He breaks down the fourth wall and invites his listeners into his world, a wide-ranging musical panorama. »Music for Shared Rooms« is indeed not an album in the conventional sense of the word, but more like a photo album in which each page opens up a new space to get lost in; recreates different scenes in which you can immerse yourself. These are shared rooms indeed.

In 2017, at Documenta Kassel (but in Athens), I invited José Jiménez Bobote, a remarkable gitano artist from the Tres Mil Viviendas neighbourhood in Seville, to record a series of actions in specific locations in the Greek capital. Ancient Greece and modern Greece. I wanted him to draw sound from the city, to strike it as only a flamenco artist can, with his feet. To hit the ground and make it moan, ring out with noises evoking significant moments in history: from Diogenes the Cynic and the Apostle Paul’s sermon at the Areopagus to Rosa Eskenazi’s resistance to the Nazi-German occupation, and the ups and downs of police Inspector Costas Haritos’s survival at the European Bank during the PIGS crisis. Bobote struck the ground and Athens responded, sending back echoes of the past, in an exceptional anachronistic exercise. In flamenco it is possible for several times to sound simultaneously.

We took seventeen hours of footage, and water from many wells.

I then shut away producer, musician, and friend Raül Refree with this material so that he could take the long titles and use them as scores, turning them into mere songs. It was very important to think in terms of songs. The tracks had to have the capacity to be songs, the kind of thing one whistles while absent-mindedly walking down the street. Generally speaking, the scores—that is, the texts—defended the use and abuse of the loose coins that people carry around in their pockets. Loose change as a kind of everyday fetishism against big financial capital. Pistis! Refree managed to coax that distinctive unity of songs, their bright catchiness, from the amalgamation of sounds that would, in other hands, end up being labelled concrete music. Peter Szendy would be pleased and grateful. Being able to sing under one’s breath something that others consider simply noise.

Seven songs, yes. And if you get the chance, take a stroll through Athens with them: the locations are clearly defined. If not, then let Athens fill your home with all its ancient wisdom, boring into your ears like worms, making holes in history.

Listen, and, as people used to say, turn up the volume!

Pedro G. Romero, Santa Marta, Colombia, November 2025

Comes with booklet with song lyrics written by Pedro G. Romero. Limited edition of 250 vinyl records.

MEMOTONE, aka Will Yates, has announced details of a new 12-track album, smallest things, set for release on World of Echo on 1 August 2025 on vinyl and digitally.

The album launches today with first track, ‘Time Is Away Theme’, a live favourite that is finally available on album. Watch the video HERE Talking about the release, Will has said, “Staring at a square inch of neglected concrete, I recognise the beauty of existence. Quietly hysterical. While humanitarian catastrophes bubble across the planet, the tides remain in constant and disinterested motion. Your money is worth less than the dusty moss that powders this pavement.

It's certainly not worth a life. We are the smallest things, along with everything else." Will Yates has made music as Memotone since 2007. He operates in the tradition of what Robert Fripp has called 'a small, independent, mobile, and intelligent unit.' If you book him, he will come. When he arrives, he will have everything he needs to make his complex, engaging music: a clarinet, a guitar, synths, samplers and pedals, quickly unpacked in the corner of a club, gallery or village hall. Starting small, he will build layer upon layer of melody, accompanying himself and cutting across himself, creating a music that avoids cliche and moves beyond easy description. His recordings have followed the same trajectory. Moving quickly, he has released fifteen or so albums across various labels (including Trilogy Tapes, Discrepant, Soda Gong). Taken together, these recordings are the sound of a skilled, inventive composer pushing at the edges of what he wants to listen to himself. It is possible to hear a variety ofinfluences in his music: folk and jazz forms, the textural inventiveness of British DI electronica and Chicago post-rock and the blurred sci-fi brass of Jon Hassell are all discernible. But mostly, Will's work seems to stem from a constant drift between long hours in his home studio, and time spent outside in the woods and hills around his home in Wales.

Listening to the album, lushness creeps in at the edges, tiny green shoots appear on what might at first appear to be bare soil. smallest things sheds the skin of Will's previous recordings, removing the electronics and the looping and layering of previous work, to create something almost entirely acoustic. But don't be fooled into imagining music that's folksy, pastoral or twee. Opening track 'I Could See the Smallest Things' is a statement of intent. Widely spaced guitar is underpinned by earthy cello and sleepwalking clarinet, making a gorgeous threadbare pattern, which recalls a Morton Feldman miniature or a Morandi still life.

Beyond the skill involved and the years of self-taught music making that have gone into putting this record together, it is Will's close, careful attention and his talent for existing, observing and creating in the moment that make his work special. Memotone will perform at World of Echo’s annual birthday celebration on 8 Nov Expected Music, when they take over Walthamstow Trades Hall for an inter-genre, day-long investigation into some of the more outré manifestations of the contemporary worldwide underground.

On his third album as Etelin, Alex Cobb explores the intricacies of separation and belonging using field recordings and electronics, reconfiguring the dividing line between what is artificial and natural in the process. Maintaining a sense of playful reverence and lurking melancholy in its glitchy pastoralism, Patio User Manual hums with a meticulous and singular energy. From the loops and static pulses of "The Chemistry of Cobalt" to the tension and release of "Electrical Sailing," the listener is pulled into a sound world at once ambivalent and radiant, reaching its denouement in the lovely melody that closes the final track, "Picnic at Gas Station Park". Although the album might bring to mind the nuanced and imaginative ambient music published by labels such as Mille Plateaux, Sonig, and Silent Records in the 1990s, it is, in the end, a world of its own and very much of today. The patio as a stage for alienated life, pyrrhic in its isolation, deceptive in its promise of distinction. Orientation as disorientation, often unseen inside the frame but felt in the bones. What is out there, anyway, other than the thing we fear the most?



"Another day of weird weather and screens. What type of perfume did Philip Johnson wear when he designed Glass House? Is it actually possible to flee to the country when you’ve internalized a lifetime of intellectualized urban living? When you buy a DIY patio kit, you get instructions for how best to embed concrete or brick or flagstone into the natural world. The patio will make you enjoy your environment more. It will become yours. You can stand on it and think “this is Mine.” The structuralists talked about the importance of fixed camera position, but didn’t properly interrogate it because to do so would be impossible. It’s hard to believe that it really wasn’t long ago that computer music seemed exciting, novel, even radical. We’re now thoroughly estranged from eating what’s in season. Walking around the woods in southern Ohio in spring, I thought about the curious imperative of the patio, how my kids get excited about picking oyster mushrooms, the dynamics of switched capacitor filters, and how adequacy is tethered to doubt." - AC, May 2024

Finnish electro duo Morphology, comprised of Matti Turunen and Michael Diekmann, is set to release ‘Made Up Reality’ on Deeptrax Records, the label with a mission to deliver high-quality, groundbreaking electronic music focusing on the deeper side of electronica and eclectic leftfield dance jams, exploring those spaces between deeper house and techno, with hints from the past and a strong vision of the future.

Continuing Morphology's tradition of dark, melodic, and skilfully produced electro funk that has captivated international audiences, they’ve have been holding down the retro-activism of Detroit and its call for an illuminated future of programmable, motorized, electro-fantasies for over 15 years. With releases on Semantica, Solar One Music and a slew of albums for Germany’s Zyntax Motorcity, it’s been Cultivated Electronics and Central Processing Unit that have given new rise to the music of Morphology. Their Traveller LP released through FireScope, helmed by the UK’s B12 in 2018, the floodlights remain unshakably fixed on the Finnish pair’s brilliance, appearing on landmark compilations like CPU’s 50th release jubilee to DJ Stingray’s Kern mix for Tresor, or holding it down in the underground at Scand nights in London, to bookings at Concrete Paris and Closer in the Ukraine, to Berlin’s unmissable Berghain. With a forever exploratory live set, Morphology’s place as a mainstay of futurist electro is rock solid and burning bright.

Renowned for their soul charged, emotion rich melodies and signature blend of techno and traditional electro, Morphology's new EP takes listeners on an unforgettable auditory journey. ‘Made Up Reality’ showcases the duo's ability to integrate acid lines and vibrant drum patterns creating a sonic landscape that is both innovative and deeply resonant. ‘Seven Fingers’ is a deep dive into the darker side of electro, with haunting melodies and pulsating rhythms. ‘Particle Swarm’ is an acid-infused cut that melds techno elements with classic electro beats. ‘Gradient Descent’ is a more electrifying electro acid heater, blending head nodding bassline with sharp acid riffs and pulsating rhythms that will ignite the floor. ‘Active Inclusion’ is a vibrant, drum-heavy composition that brings the EP to a powerful close.

Deluxe 180g vinyl. Art Edition LP includes set of six 12”x12” art cards.



The follow-up to Kee Avil's acclaimed 2022 debut Crease: "A stunning debut" (The Quietus); "A whiplash style of uninhibited exploration" (The Wire); "Kee Avil's debut is a force" (Foxy Digitalis); "A work of Frankensteinian wonder" (Electronic Sound); "A tightly coiled, finely wrought vision of avant-pop" (Exclaim); "A debut of fiendish creativity" (Bandcamp Album Of The Day / Albums Of The Year) Kee Avil's music is both adventurous and intimate, intellectually challenging and emotionally resonant. The Montréal guitarist and producer's 2022 debut LP Crease garnered plaudits from outlets like The Wire, The Quietus, Mojo and Foxy Digitalis, picking up a Canadian Juno Award nomination and Bandcamp Album Of The Day and Albums Of The Year along the way. Its intricate construction, unnerving atmospheres, and knife-edge take on avant-pop prompted comparisons to early PJ Harvey, This Heat, and Gazelle Twin. A remix EP with work by claire rousay, Ami Dang, Cecile Believe, and Pelada brought collaborative perspectives to four Crease tracks, offering new pathways within those songs. With Spine, Kee Avil strips back her heavily textured compositions, opening up a much rawer sound. She calls it folk… and while traditionalists might scoff, this is urgent music that reflects the precarity of modern life, as well as the jarring mixture of electronic and real-world interactions that have become the fabric of our day-to-day experiences. There's a hypnotic post-punk somnambulance to it all, using the repetition and fracturing of melodic phrases interwoven with delicate electronics to create curious and persistent hooks. While not a concept album, themes of time's passage, remembrance, and decay crop up across multiple tracks. Each track intentionally only has four elements - guitar, electronics, and two other instruments, with Kee's voice and guitar pushed to the front. Within this minimalist framework, the juxtaposition of beauty and discomfort that is key to the Kee Avil sound stands out in skin-prickling relief. "We're shaped by many versions of ourselves," says Avil. "I was looking back at these versions of myself and what could have been, what didn't end up being and what did end up being, and going back like that through time. Seeing the future, the past." Spine was written in Kee Avil's home studio after a lapse in writing while touring Crease and working on other projects. She is a well-known and respected member of the Montréal experimental scene, and formerly ran Concrete Sound Studio with Zach Scholes, who continues to work with her as a producer on Spine. Compared to the three years that went into making her debut, Spine emerged in a matter of months - a process that may also be a factor in its intensity and sharpness: "This record was much harder, like it was really discovering everything from scratch." In her desire to not simply replicate or extend the sound of Crease, she felt she had to rip up the rule book, write in a different way, and pare back songs against her usual instincts. Sometimes, when we work against our ingrained habits, we get to the core of who we really are. Spine is an exercise in that process. Without over-intellectualizing or being didactic, it hits immediately and emotionally, especially if you are a person who has spent much time in the process of self-examination. Kee's voice hisses, whispers, and chants; her guitar bends and rings; electronics skitter and crackle; violin creaks like a door in the wind. There is something so evocative about the atmospheres she creates that it's easy to overlay one's own feelings onto her work, but to do that wholly would be to overlook one of the most important things about Spine: Kee Avil's clear and thoughtful vision. This isn't just the next step forward in her artistic trajectory; it's a stunner of a record that stands on its own, a bracing and thrilling listen that has much to reveal about the contradictions inherent in being human. - jj skolnik

Kee Avil's music is both adventurous and intimate, intellectually challenging and emotionally resonant. The Montréal guitarist and producer's 2022 debut LP Crease garnered plaudits from outlets like The Wire, The Quietus, Mojo and Foxy Digitalis, picking up a Canadian Juno Award nomination and Bandcamp Album Of The Day and Albums Of The Year along the way. Its intricate construction, unnerving atmospheres, and knife-edge take on avant-pop prompted comparisons to early PJ Harvey, This Heat, and Gazelle Twin. A remix EP with work by claire rousay, Ami Dang, Cecile Believe, and Pelada brought collaborative perspectives to four Crease tracks, offering new pathways within those songs. With Spine, Kee Avil strips back her heavily textured compositions, opening up a much rawer sound. She calls it folk—and while traditionalists might scoff, this is urgent music that reflects the precarity of modern life, as well as the jarring mixture of electronic and real-world interactions that have become the fabric of our day-to-day experiences. There's a hypnotic post-punk somnambulance to it all, using the repetition and fracturing of melodic phrases interwoven with delicate electronics to create curious and persistent hooks. While not a concept album, themes of time's passage, remembrance, and decay crop up across multiple tracks. Each track intentionally only has four elements—guitar, electronics, and two other instruments, with Kee's voice and guitar pushed to the front. Within this minimalist framework, the juxtaposition of beauty and discomfort that is key to the Kee Avil sound stands out in skin-prickling relief. "We're shaped by many versions of ourselves," says Avil. "I was looking back at these versions of myself and what could have been, what didn't end up being and what did end up being, and going back like that through time. Seeing the future, the past." Spine was written in Kee Avil's home studio after a lapse in writing while touring Crease and working on other projects. She is a well-known and respected member of the Montréal experimental scene, and formerly ran Concrete Sound Studio with Zach Scholes, who continues to work with her as a producer on Spine. Compared to the three years that went into making her debut, Spine emerged in a matter of months—a process that may also be a factor in its intensity and sharpness: "This record was much harder, like it was really discovering everything from scratch." In her desire to not simply replicate or extend the sound of Crease, she felt she had to rip up the rule book, write in a different way, and pare back songs against her usual instincts. Sometimes, when we work against our ingrained habits, we get to the core of who we really are. Spine is an exercise in that process. Without over-intellectualizing or being didactic, it hits immediately and emotionally, especially if you are a person who has spent much time in the process of self-examination. Kee's voice hisses, whispers, and chants; her guitar bends and rings; electronics skitter and crackle; violin creaks like a door in the wind. There is something so evocative about the atmospheres she creates that it's easy to overlay one's own feelings onto her work, but to do that wholly would be to overlook one of the most important things about Spine: Kee Avil's clear and thoughtful vision. This isn't just the next step forward in her artistic trajectory; it's a stunner of a record that stands on its own, a bracing and thrilling listen that has much to reveal about the contradictions inherent in being human. — jj skolnik.

»Tropic of Capricorn« is the second album by Lawrence English and Werner Dafeldecker. Based on field recordings made by the prolific Room40 owner that were subtly but decisively altered with electroacoustic techniques through the German improv legend, these two long-form pieces blur the lines between acoustic ecology and aesthetic interventions, concrete local sound worlds and boundary-defying art. They put a focus on our relationship with nature as listeners as much as they call into question where nature ends and human perception begins. They are deeply confusing, disorienting perhaps, in the most beautiful ways.

English recorded the material that form the basis of the duo’s Hallow Ground debut on two different field trips. One led him from the Western coast to the Pilbara region in the North of the country called Australia, the other to the central desert into the lands of the Arrernte people. »These are vast spaces, and in some respects they shun contemporary ideas of civilisation which seek not to listen to the country,« says English. When recording the soundscapes, the artist put a focus on the residues of failed colonial aspirations. »The buildings and objects that remain from the failed cattle pastures and other endeavours create uneasy sound worlds of their own,« he says of the regions that are also places of extraction, especially the heavily mined Pilbara. »There is a distant drone of industry in even the most remote of places; an unsettled sense of heavy breath on the land.« He brought home a document of natural reclamation in time.

The rich source material was then given to Dafeldecker. Spatialising the recordings with transducers applied to different surfaces such as wood, stretched animal skin, glass, or metal surfaces and also re-recording parts of the recordings, he created discrete events that were inserted into, or rather enmeshed with English’s recordings. You’ll hear plenty of birdsong, insect noises and the sound of rain during these 39 minutes; the sounds of a life you can tap into if you tune into your environment. But there are also other things, things that are impossible to categorise even after repeated listens and that call into question whether or not those were really birds, insects, or the sound of rain in the first place. What »Tropic of Capricorn« invites its listeners to listen beyond the preconceived notions of how nature is supposed to be represented in sound and to instead embrace the immediacy of the sensation.

‘A Concrete Pasture’ by Coen Oscar Polack is the follow-up to ‘Haarlemmerhout’ (2020), an album named after a park close to his home in Haarlem in the Netherlands. ‘A Concrete Pasture’ brings Polack’s interest in exploring the larger world around him back into his music. Polack is a magician in combining field recordings from all over the world, be it a temple in Bangkok, the Dutch Wadden Islands or a the percussive Gamelan instruments, and electronic processing of these recordings. With all these ingredients he creates a vivid, nostalgic, futuristic but familiar world of sounds and emotions.

At first, the colors of the recordings seem scattered, the sounds unrelated, but there is a deeper train of thought running through the music. It is the persistent impression of a travelogue; of places, family and friends, helping Polack in co-creating his music. In ‘Cuore Nero’, nostalgic powerchords are composed into tapestries of ambient-noise, ‘Unseen Shores’ uses a recomposed recording of Polack’s children on the Dutch island of Schiermonnikoog and develops into visceral, almost spiritual music, and a field recording of Wat Po in Bangkok in ‘Phra Buddhasaiyas’ becomes a luminous homage that the incorporated guitar sound burns into your skull.

While listening, it becomes evident that Polack is being reflective in auditive images and memory, giving a meaning to a music that is liberated of its formalities and charged with a poignant imagery by transformation, one that is bright and lucid and respects the process from recording until ornamentation.

The longest piece of the album ‘Kraaiennest’, starts with the recording of a Hong Kong traffic light, later to be cut up and transformed into a technoid Musique Concrète piece, with a slow progression into a warm crescendo-decrescendo themed electroacoustic piece, which takes on a life on its own. The finale is Polack on this tenor saxophone putting a stamp on the completion of his work, a performance reminiscing of the raw expressiveness of Albert Ayler.

‘A Concrete Pasture’ points to a landscape, or to a person’s current situation in life. Coen Oscar Polack did himself justice by writing an elegant, vibrant album, a tribute to his reflection of reality, his aesthetics, and with raw authenticity and skill, leaving a great space for the audience’s imagination.

Flora Yin Wong’s ravishing interiority finds lucid expression on an absorbing second album for Modern Love, manifesting her instrumental storytelling in a syncretic bind of supernatural themes with hyperrealist, concrète sound design.

Through ten parts, Flora crystallises the ennui that followed an uncanny, disorienting trip to East and Southeast Asia. “On an unexpected stopover in Hong Kong after five years away, my friends took me to a Bazi reader one night - something I was curious about, but much of a ritual for them - ” Flora recalls. “My father told me that when I was born, he had obtained an auspicious reading that since stayed like a guiding talisman with me. It was almost past midnight but people were still lined up, rather shaken and visibly upset, to see the old man. He had kind eyes and asked me why I was there and I said I was at a crossroads. He asked me my time and date of birth, and told me to pick one of his four little white canary birds as a vessel for divination.”

This was the final stretch of an ultimately aimless few months across the continent, including a 20 year overdue return with her father to his adoptive family in his hometown Kuala Lumpur - for many reasons, ended up as a strange and uncanny trip. She spent solitude in a haunted house during the quiet snowfall of Kyoto, where she might have offended some spirit... and nights in mountain temples with South Korean monks, and an equally strange feeling return to the Island of the Gods.

“It culminated in what felt like a final disillusionment with Asia - sudden deaths and a breakdown in beliefs - somewhere I never really have or will be able to connect with. The process of the reading summoned a final blow to my gut - an overwhelming sense of rootlessness, and understanding that all there is is emptiness and entropy. No birth-divined protection, just a measurement of the night sky based off nothing and everything.”

Heavy with a sense of nightmarish dissociation and grief, Flora read about Giuseppe Tartini’s ‘Violin Sonata in G Minor’, aka the Devil’s Trill Sonata, a notoriously tricky c.18th composition which attempted to transcribe music heard in a dream, which the composer felt he could never fully bring into reality. It’s this soporific motif that binds and underpins ’Cold Reading’, finding Flora chasing the dragon of fleeting fantasy through passages of etched melancholy, pinched with hypnagogic jerks that linger in the memory.

From her use of the ‘Devil’s Trill’ Sonata in ‘All My Dreams are Nightmares’ through evocations of subtropical humidity in the Bryn Jones-esque, resonant hand-played percussion of ‘Konna’ and ‘Banjar’, to a breathtaking dreampop denouement ‘Nectar Dripping’ and the Enya-like lush of ‘Beautiful Crisis’, Flora blooms her ideas with an openended ambiguity so often missing from so called Ambient music, ushering the listener into a soundworld that disturbs and displaces, just as much as it calms.

Black Truffle is pleased to announce Tender Membranes, the label’s first release from Swedish-Finnish sound artist and electro-acoustic composer Marja Ahti. Active for a decade in the Finnish underground music scene, in recent years Ahti has developed a distinctive approach to patiently unfolding electro-acoustic constructions, documented on a string of solo releases and collaborative projects with Judith Hamann and her husband Niko-Matti Ahti. Working with concrete and instrumental sounds, field recordings, and electronics, Ahti favours neither disjunctive collage nor monolithic consistency; rather, her work is composed of organically unfolding sequences of details and textures, which, as she says, ‘can stretch out or cut fast as long as they have a sense of inner stillness’, a sense that she connects to moments of heightened attention in everyday life. Tender Membranes consists of four lengthy pieces, partly inspired by the image of the senses and mind as membranes allowing for the passage between inner and outer spaces, sensation and its causes, creating a world. Ahti’s unhurried pacing encourages this sense of listening as an opening or surrender to sound, which can often create the impression that the listener is moving through a space zooming in on details. The opening Shrine (Aether) exemplifies this aspect of Ahti’s approach: a bell clears the air with a single long tone, followed by the ambience of outdoor spaces, crackling electronics, an archival recording of a horsefly on a windowpane. Dozens of these moments, varying in length, density, and intensity, move past the listener’s attention, momentarily brought into focus then slipping away. Like those of the masters of the French musique concrète tradition, Ahti’s sounds are not often recognisable, though they might suggest proximity or distance, open environments or closed spaces, the urban or rural, day or night. In Ahti’s work, we do not encounter spectacular metamorphoses à la Parmegiani but rather a state of ambiguity where the listener is often unsure what is organic and what is inorganic, where the careful productions of the synthesizer might end and sounds discovered in the environment begin. What Ahti calls her ‘poetic way of experiencing and organising the familiar and the unfamiliar’ is sustained throughout Tender Membranes, but each piece has its own character. On Dust / Light, human presence is more overt, as what appear to be whispers, singing, and distant speech thread between high frequencies, untraceable drips and pops, and metallic shimmers. In all this there is a melody that you can sing and to which you may dance makes more prominent use of musical instruments, gaining a sombre beauty from half-buried piano chords and organ tones. On the closing Oh Fragrant Witness, a delicate cloud of subtly bending pitches is repeatedly disrupted by a resounding, almost ominous mass of low tones, at once a strange detour from much of what has gone before and an almost classical finale. Arriving in a sleeve reproducing contemporary Finnish photographer Sini Pelkki’s fragmented visions of the everyday, Tender Membranes is a balm to reawaken tired ears.

Perth-based artist hub 823, led by the extraordinary producer / creator Ta-ku joins forces with Berlin's Jakarta Records for the release of Godblesscomputers's fourth full-length LP, "Faded Views." The LP melds bright electronic flourishes with laidback synth-driven backdrops, weaving tapestries of mellow folktronica and groovy jazz harmony with continuous sonic intrigue that will keep you grooving into a tropical disposition. Paying homage to his musical moniker, the Bologna-based producer makes timely metallic interjections amidst lush, effortlessly groovy soundscapes. Explore a world of found, recycled, and synthesized sound on "Faded Views" out everywhere September 8.

Bologna-based producer, DJ, and sound collector Godblesscomputers (122k Spotify listeners) has returned with the release of his fourth full-length record, "Faded Views." Godblesscomputers's latest LP "The Island" (2020, La Tempesta Dischi) earned him placement on Spotify playlists like "Brain Flood" and "Coffee Club." Since then, his appearance on Willie Peyote's track "La colpa al vento" landed GBC on "Best of Indie Italia 2022." On "Faded Views," it was Godblesscomputers's creative project to explore the sonic potentials of his direct environment, picking up recordings and threads of inspiration from the most commonplace occurrences. A sonic scavenger, Godblesscomputers explored the expanses of his-both digital and physical-soundscapes. "Faded Views" does the work of crafting a unified, yet complex compilation of the noises that mark the experience of being digital natives in ever-expanding dimensions.

Godblesscomputers's use of musique concrète and found-sound composition melds curiously with his undeniable electronic and techno acumen. Superimposing metallic electronica onto esoteric sound bytes creates the occasion for complex sound collage. "Faded Views" marks a decade since the genesis of the Godblesscomputers project; the entire LP testifies to how time warps perception and sound. Godblesscomputers's music seems to decorate time, both commemorating the moments passed with mind-melting sonic collages and looking forward to the infinitudes of the future with frenetic electronic experimentation.

Themes of impermanence and transience-hence "Faded Views"-pervade the record. Godblesscomputers blurs time as each track seeps into the next in what feels like a seamless transition. He makes these swift passages in genre as well-the record opens on "Colors" with a rich horn section which frictionlessly becomes a lo-fi dance groove. It is this melding of the analog and the electronic that makes sense of his found approach to beat-making: Godblesscomputers marries the found and the synthesized; the creator and the created; the past and the future. The process of sonic dissection and recomposition that drives much of Godblesscomputers's creative process yields not only assertive breakdowns and animated dance tracks, but also complex tapestries of sound that keep the listener ever-intrigued-piano, saxophone, and modular synthesis all find a natural home on tracks like "Hello." In an apt description, the producer's work has been described as "sounding like wood, metal, and microchip."

Godblesscomputers's artistic objective lies in blurring definitive lines, constantly shifting perspectives, genres, and origins of inspiration. On "Faded Views," this design cultivates a folktronica record that truly evades definition.

Feelgood lead single "Mirrors" is out June 30th and features a rich meld of warbling layers, mixing upbeat dance music with complex instrumentation. Stream second single, "Above the Lake," for a mellow summer cut on July 21. Finally, the effortlessly groovy third single "You Feel Me" captures a genre-warping foray into folktronica. Listen to "You Feel Me" on August 11.

All LP artwork and stunning single visualizers were single-handedly put together by multi-disciplinary designer Michael Norman. "Faded Views" will be available everywhere physically and digitally on September 8, 2023. Be sure to listen for focus track "Hello" that captures the vast scope of Godblesscomputers's musical prowess. Find the LP, CD, and digital release on 823's and Jakarta Records's Bandcamp and local record stores.

Made when mono was still king, Bob Dylan's self-titled 1962 debut is as understated of an entrance as any significant musician as ever made. Already well-versed in American roots music, Dylan simultaneously pays homage to tradition and extends it by putting his own stamp on classic material that metaphorically functions as the soil of our contemporary songs and styles. Free of ego, and performed with masterful conviction, Bob Dylan ranks with the debut efforts of similar artistic giants Elvis Presley and the Rolling Stones.

Mastered from the original master tapes, pressed at RTI, and limited to 3,000 copies, Mobile Fidelity's restored 180g mono 45RPM 2LP version brings the contents of this seminal release as closest as they've ever come to master tape-quality in the original mono configuration. Transparent to the source, the simple sounds of Dylan's voice, acoustic guitar, and harmonica take on lifelike perspective and directness – the "husk and bark" to which Robert Shelton referred in his now-legendary New York Times review of a Dylan appearance at Gerde's Folk City. MoFi has made possible an inexpensive time-traveling trip back to the Greenwich Village coffeehouses and folk clubs in which Dylan cut his teeth, albeit in much better fidelity and without any annoying background chatter. Wider grooves mean more information reaches your ears.

As the preferred mix at the time of the recording, the mono version presents Dylan as he and his producers originally intended. Since the separation of the stereo versions isn't as sharp, the mono edition places Dylan's vocals in the heart of the musical action and as one with the accompaniment. It paints listeners an incredibly accurate portrait of the attention-getting, concrete mass of sound that features no artificial panning and straight-ahead immersion into the music. This is how almost everyone first heard this timeless album – making the mono mix all the more historically valuable and truthful.

Much has been made of the commercial indifference that greeted the album upon its low-key release. Yet focusing on sales figures and the reaction of a public not yet hip to Dylan's name or music is to miss the forest for the trees. Distinguished from the era's other folk efforts by way of the determination, brazenness, and lived-through-this worldliness Dylan approaches the material and sings the songs, Dylan lays the groundwork for the path he'd soon trailblaze and everyone else would follow.

By nodding to Woody Guthrie at the same time he completely re-imagines a sobering tune such as Blind Lemon Jefferson's "See That My Grave Is Kept Clean," Dylan straddles the past and future. He also displays, with challenging authority and savant-like expertise, the ability to handle weighty topics such as death, sorrow, and lamentation with the vaudeville flair, bluesy mannerisms, and poignant command of an artist three times his age.



As Dylan scholar and pop-culture critic Greil Marcus observed in 2010, "Everybody knew Joan Baez and the Kingston Trio; if you knew Bob Dylan, you knew something other people didn't, something that soon enough everybody had to know. Within a year, an album could put an adjective in front of the singer's name as if it were already common coin." It all starts here.

Track List

Black Truffle is pleased to announce The Leisure Principle, a new solo LP from London-based bassist and sound artist Otto Willberg. A key player in the London underground, Willberg is often heard on acoustic and electric bass in free improv settings and bands with Laurie Tompkins (Yes Indeed) and Charles Hayward (Abstract Concrete), as well as the fractured No Wave unit Historically Fucked. His previous solo releases have ranged from extended technique double bass to explorations of the acoustics of a 19th century artillery fort. But nothing Willberg has committed to wax so far prepares a listener for The Leisure Principle, six unashamedly melodic improvisational workouts created almost entirely with heavily filtered bass harmonica and electric bass. On the opening ‘Reap What Thou Sow’, a single-note bass harmonica loop pulses along underneath a roaming bass solo, the side-chained envelope filtering (where the dynamic behaviour of the bass determines the filter for both bass and harmonica) fusing the two instruments into a single stream of burbling shifts in resonance. After several minutes of patient exploration of this low-end landscape, the music suddenly opens up in widescreen with the entrance of Sam Andreae’s graceful melodica chords, spreading out across the stereo field. From this epic opener, each of the remaining pieces goes on to explore a slightly different aspect of the terrain. On ‘Shadow Came into the Eyes as Earth Turned on its Axis’, a similarly buoyant harmonica bass line provides the foundation, but this time playing a soulful descending riff, its almost R&B feel abstracted and half-obscured by the filtering. On ‘Mollusk’, echoed bass arpeggios skitter between elegiac chords somewhat reminiscent of the opening of John Abercrombie’s ‘Timeless’, before settling into a hypnotic groove. On the record’s second half, Willberg pushes further into the possibilities of his idiosyncratic instrumentation. On ‘Wetter’, bass and harmonica come together into a monstrous, growling jaw harp; on ‘Had we but world enough and more time’, the subtly shifting pulsating patterns start to feel almost like a kind of evaporated, drum-less dub techno until an eruption of wheezing bass harmonica gives the piece a comically folkish turn. Willberg’s melodically inventive and virtuosic bass performance calls to mind any number of fusion touchstones, from Jaco Pastorius to Mark Egan’s singing tone in the early Pat Metheny Group—even Anthony Jackson’s work with Steve Kahn. But with its radically reduced instrumentation, The Leisure Principle is also an exercise in minimalism, and the absence of percussion gives even its funkiest moments a strangely abstracted quality. At times, its uncanny blend of the abstruse and the immediate suggests the fried pop experiments of David Rosenboom or the skewed but deeply musical DIY of 80s underground groups like De Fabriek. Both easy on the ear and profoundly strange, The Leisure Principle proudly takes its place among the most eccentric offerings on the Black Truffle menu.

Colin McCann didn't pick up a guitar for nearly ten years. The Northern-California-based songwriter, previously performing under Long Dog Bird, had been creating music with longtime friend and collaborator Brian Gossman for much of their adult lives with early-00s Baltimore-based band Wilderness. So what would cause such a stagnant period? And how could McCann find his way back to the joy that music had once so easily conjured? The answer was to go back to the very beginning, where the kinetic forces that urged McCann to make music in the first place could emerge once again. But first, he had to make space in his internal world; a kind of silence where he could hear the exhale of his past, and the blossoming of a new song. That blossoming would soon become the first songs for McCann's latest project Vulture Feather. The band's debut album Liminal Fields exists on an intangible plane: a crack in the concrete, a gauze between worlds. For as long as McCann can recall, he's been using music as a vehicle to try and connect with an underlying, indescribable nature that only the sonic world seems to be able to reach. "There's a feeling of ecstasy that comes when one merges with music," he says. "It's what calls us all back again and again to listen, to sing, and to play." McCann had been striving to reach this outlying environment throughout his career, often stretching in ways that eventually came to negatively impact his life, and his health. The wake up call came when McCann suffered a near-death experience, eerily predicted by a friend through a dream she had had almost a year earlier. Newly awoken to the beauty of being alive, McCann strove to slow down, to listen to the inherent nature in all living things, and to rediscover our mutual connectivity. He stopped playing and listening to music, and instead soaked himself in the cacophony of silence. Then without any epiphany or grand catalyst, something urged McCann to pick up a guitar again. Ideas flowed more naturally than ever, and he soon realized that the liminal space he had been searching for was there all along--he only had to listen. McCann tentatively reached out to Gossman to collaborate and the friends found themselves once again jamming together, in an off-grid quonset hut where they now practice. "It was like no time had passed," McCann says. "That feeling of ecstatic joy, of forgetting your own name, came flooding back." They were soon joined by another old friend, Eric Fiscus, who completed Vulture Feather on drums.

With I was born by the sea, Richie Culver brings to a close a period of intense introspection and emotional reckoning with a debut album that serves as both an optimistic statement of intent and a final glance back at the painful places it explores. Following recent work with Blackhaine and Pavel Milyakov, I was born by the sea picks up where Culver’s EP for Italian label Superpang, Post Traumatic Fantasy, leaves off, painting an unabashed portrait of contemporary malaise, detailing a life lived behind closed doors, pinned under the crushing weight of austerity, sapped of the strength to do anything other than gaze out to sea and all the grey possibilities it represents. Where Post Traumatic Fantasy saw Culver returning to his hometown of Hull after a period spent entangled in London’s relentless sprawl, his first full length project reaches further back to his formative years working in a caravan factory and going to raves in and among Hull’s outskirts. Unspooling like a fever dream, I was born by the sea is the anxious clutter of a racing mind spoken clearly, a stark reflection on how it feels to have too many ideas and too much time to act on them.

Though unquestionably a snapshot of a time of significant difficulty, Culver reflects on this period with tender empathy and pitch-black humour, stitching together unflinching observations from England’s neglected corners, ‘there’s more mobility scooter repair shops and bookies than there are bookshops,’ and devastating vignettes of everyday struggle, ‘tears on the tin foil’, with surreal depictions of industrial grit, ‘skimming stones in a small pond by the slaughterhouse’. His DIY approach to production stretches the rough sinew that connects these fragments of memory, a process he describes as using a paired back collection of synths and drum machines to the best of his ability, ‘but to the least of their capabilities,’ wringing out visceral sound with self-taught urgency. During the album’s most impressionistic passages it’s as though Culver has transposed past internal turmoil into powerfully resonant noise, the Sisyphean sonics of ‘Create A Lifestyle Around Your Problems’, which evokes in its concrète clatter and MRI machine barrage the sound of making the same mistake again and again, or the stuttered jumble of ‘Its Hard To Get To Know You,’ its garbled vocal modulation and frayed edges of distortion channeling the paranoia of somebody listening to muffled voices through thin plaster, climbing the walls of their bedroom with the curtains closed, a nervous breakdown in stereo.

In counterpoint to this glides the ever-present spirit of the dance floor, which haunts the record from the moment it is invoked in its first few seconds. Opening onto a sea wall of bright synthesis, the stuttering vocals and bass tone chops of ‘Nervous Energy’ dump us directly into post rave ecstasy, the echoing cry of a voice amplified by loudspeaker carrying the loose energy and surge of crowds moving in darkness. The incessant, dead phone line beep of ‘Pigeon Flesh’ builds to a pulse that suddenly swells into an anxious technoid surge, shapeshifting at lysergic speed into head shrinking audio hallucinations, a descent into the void of the present via machine music hypnosis. Even ‘Its Hard To Get To Know You’ summons the ego death drive of hardcore techno within its scorched textures, flickering indiscernibly between attritional noise and frazzled hardware stomp. Paying homage to both the parties of his youth and a countless succession of Sundays spent offering himself up within Berghain’s hallowed architecture, Culver’s experiments in addressing his formative relationship with rave provide an energetic glimpse at where he might take his sound next.

Between spikes of propulsive energy and grim mood pieces Culver returns to suspended passages of aching, glacial drift, the cold swell of the North Sea, accompanied by some of his heaviest testimonials. The gauzy ebb of ‘Daytime TV,’ its tumbling loops reminiscent of boats bobbing off a distant shore, sees the artist at his most checked out, slumped in front of his television, seven days a week. ‘I used to dream of doing something,’ he admits, ‘anything to get out of this town.’ ‘Love Like An Abscess’ pairs swirling currents of ambient shimmer with violent images of baseball bats lying next to beds and blood-stained mattresses, next to which Culver pleads in a desperate mumble, ‘let our love grow, like a broken abscess.’ Yet it’s with the album’s final word and title track that Culver reveals a glimmer of cautious optimism, a parting gesture of exposition and closure. ‘I knew I had to get away,’ he asserts, ‘so I did and I never looked back.’ What follows builds from a low throb, the flutter of a tiny heartbeat, to a resonant glow, embellished with unfurling synthetic burbles, oil rigs sparkling in the distance, golden light spilling across the sea. In reckoning with the place he had to escape, Richie Culver is now free to look towards the promise of something new, something hopeful.

He might be vocalist in bands such as Brighton-based progressive act Diagonal and psychedelic outfit Baron, but when it comes to his solo work Alex Crispin has typically worked in more wordless fields. Last year the songwriter, vocalist and producer released a triptych of ambient albums, consisting of two older albums in 'Idle Worship' and 'Open Submission', as well as new meditative work in 'Resubmergency'. On his new self-titled album, however, Crispin re-emerges from the cavernous soundscapes to – for the first time – put his vocal and song writing stamp on a record under his own name. “I personally find it easier to create more guarded, moody music, but I was at a point where I wanted to embrace a more universal, intimate and open side to what I might say” Crispin says. “Over time I’d got over certain blocks or preoccupations and so wanted to create something accessible and open hearted, which became a big driver for this record.” Pointedly self-titled to reflect the newfound confidence in his song writing away from the collective of a band, the album’s nine tracks are a warm embrace amidst troubled times. Musically there’s nods to everything from tropicalia and Brazilian MPB, to 80’s dusk pop balladeers The Blue Nile and Paul Simon’s explorations into African music. Lyrically aware of the snowballing turbulence that surrounds us, Crispin in reaction tries to see hope and looks around at the relationships and connections in his life that provide him strength. He opens 'Invisible (To Us)' with the words “Before the world did end, there was just one moment when, everybody thought there might be time, to look around again, to laugh to cry to sing.” Elsewhere, 'Listen & Learn' strikes at the heart of other underlying themes of the record, of the rarity of people opening up, taking on new ideas and allowing change. It’s accompanied with a rich, maximal sound palette of flute and sax that play around each other as Crispin’s vocal chips in with gentle encouragement. “One of the main markers on the album that I was aware of from the start, was to let myself express joy and positivity in the music” he says. “I have come to greatly prize the power of accessibility and universality over artistic 'coolness or trend', much in the same way that so often for me, the greatest pieces of art humans make nowadays are things like Pixar movies, with their combination of undeniable human talent and craft, alongside genuinely moving and accessible themes.” Indeed, there is a cinematic feel to much of Crispin’s own music, something brought over from his ambient creations – although his self-titled album possesses a panorama all of its own. Something like 'When I Reach The Ocean' has a hazy, pastoral feel to it like something out of the Canterbury Folk scene; there’s space between the notes though, which in turn pushes the track out to a greater expanse than the comparatively soft-edged and modest sound palette used to create it. Similarly, the likes of 'Effert' revel in the space afforded to them - in the case of the aforementioned in particular, Crispin lets his voice take a back seat and creates an open wash of sound that he allows the guitar to probe and explore within. “In making any music I am definitely conscious of trying to put in only what is effective” Crispin says. “It is so easy to clutter tracks without realising it, just having the ability to add stuff can just become addictive as it’s so easy to do with recording setups now.” The album started coming together at the end of 2020, with Crispin getting most of the songs to a concrete state, before starting recording in May 2021 with Diagonal bandmates Luke Foster (drums) and Daniel Pomlett (Bass), who put down rhythm tracks. Jazz saxophonist Rob Milne then added parts which would become the glue that held the whole organic aesthetic of the album together. There’s no doubt that lockdown played a part in proceedings, with a kind of forced focus resulting in a need for joyful expression. However, Crispin and his partner also suffered a bereavement which led to her travelling for large periods of time. “It was a very intense and difficult time and I think some of the intensity of emotion of that situation coupled with being alone must have inevitably contributed to the work itself” he says. It's perhaps why when even in moments of sheer happiness, such as the 'Sabu’s' breezily euphoric opener, Crispin ponders: “No-one really cares beyond this moment, and even when it's here, it's never here”. It’s the first of several bittersweet moments on the record that give the album its weight. On this new LP, Crispin recognises that sadness doesn’t mean throwing out hope, and that even in moments of joy there’s still a path ahead of you to take.

Historically informed violin player, prize-winning street musician, new age experimentalist, chamber ensemble performer and conservatoire deviant. The career of Valentina Goncharova (b. Kyiv 1953) shares parallels with those associated with the broader new music movement of the 20th century and the dissemination of home recording technologies.

Valentina’s was a youth spent immersed in the world of classical music study under soviet rule, first in Kyiv- later in Leningrad & now St. Petersburg, from the age of 16. With the supervision of professors M. Vayman and B. Gutnikov she learned concert violin and developed alternate playing styles alongside skilled pianists. A student of the Leningrad conservatoire during the years 1969 - 1983, her repertoire included music for violin and later expanded to contemporary music composition.

The improvisatory nature of free jazz and then-budding experimental rock circles also intrigued Valentina during this period in Leningrad. Departing from the rules of the conservatoire, she briefly performed in underground rock clubs alongside future members of the industrial group Pop- Mechanika (Popular Mechanics). This perpetual state of flux is central to the variety found within ‘Recordings Vol. 1’, though as opposed to any degree of uncertainty Valentina’s practice is one
in flux by way of earnest curiosity.

Pushing further into an exploration of solo electro-acoustic sounds, she took to home taping on a modified Olimp reel to reel recorder. Intrigued by the manipulability of dubbing and the fresh sounds of DIY effects chains, Goncharova developed pickups alongside her husband Igor Zubkov. Her infatuation with the music of Stockhausen, Xenakis, Ganelin Trio and Pierre Boulez channels through considerations of space and erratic sound design, the 3 movements of ‘Metamorphoses’ embodying this textural approach to musique concrete.

The compositional skills developed in Leningrad unfold in the romantic gestures of ‘Higher Frequencies’, whilst manipulated cello combines with synthesise keys across ‘Passageway To Eternity’.
The slow, pulsating drone soundscapes recall the likes of Robert Rutman’s US Steel Cello Ensemble or even deep listening pioneer Pauline Oliveros.

The juxtaposition of written notation and improvisatory flare is central to Goncharova’s sound world. This period of home recording documents a confluence of minimalism, free form and flirtations
with new age tropes (inc. bell chimes and cavernous vocal mantras).

Experimenting with unusual performance techniques, such as shouting into amplified cello strings, Valentina’s home studio functioned as a place to foster full artistic and creative freedom
away from any academic strictures.

Relocating to Estonia in 1984, and in parallel to the deeply personal music of ‘Recordings Vol. 1’, Valentina performed at jazz festivals and gave classical concerts across Eastern Europe. In a sense, the recordings on these discs offer only a glimpse into her lifelong body of work. Over the past few decades she has taught at Tallinn Music College, expanded and updated post- Soviet popular music repertoire, collaborated with the Russian Philharmonic Society of Estonia and given concerts and charity events alongside the Catholic Church.

Hers is a life dedicated to the exploration of sound, a career forged through careful study and ceaseless intrigue. In a time where technological interconnectedness has allowed for music of the pas
to be continually mined and evaluated through new lenses, Shukai present an artist whose tendency for private home-taping had allowed recordings to go unheard for thirty years.

On Top Records is extremely proud to welcome back Smasher with his sophomore album, ‘Vibes In Motion’. due for release the 16/07/2021

Following the release of his debut album ‘Locked In Locked On' in 2020 which featured in numerous 'Album of the Year' lists Smasher has spent the past year offering a high level of consistency among a time which has been very difficult for creatives.

With live shows stopping to a halt Smasher has taken this opportunity with both hands building a home studio to sustain creativity a very important factor for an individual who has a burning passion to create music, he has used the time productively “Vibes In Motion” is 51 minutes of future classic British UKG encompassing Hip Hop, Grime, RnB, 2 step Garage all blended together seamlessly to bring a fresh approach to a genre he has gone extremely hard for. As with previous material, the album is produced by Smasher himself collaborating with long time friend Aaron Greenwood bringing his soulful smoothed-out keys and backing vocals the pair have a great working relationship which spans over a decade which can be heard through out the record.

Smashers journey began with a love for late 90’s UK Garage collecting vinyls from record shops and dj’ing on pirate radio, which lead him to Hip Hop, RnB, Reggae, Soul and many different uk underground music styles, followed by decades of producing records for some pinnacle uk artists most recent production credit for “Ghetts” on the critically acclaimed ‘Conflict Of Interest’ album charting at number 2 in the uk albums chart, Giggs - Landlord album, Klashnekoff - Iona to name a few, Smasher is a producer who can deliver a very high level of production no matter the genre. Over the past 2 years Smasher has gained props far and wide: from Todd Edwards to DJ EZ releasing a record under his Nuvolve imprint, to guest mix for MBE clothes designer Wale Adeyemi, comedy UKG faves Kurupt fm posting his “lockdown freestyle challenge” Numerous guest shows & live streams for Rinse fm, Kiss fm, Phaze Transition & Mind Charity, limited vinyl run presses to collaborating with Capo Lee & Ayo beats for film soundtrack “Against All Odds”

Since releasing “Locked In Locked On” the feedback for the project was so greatly received i knew how i wanted to approach this next album and with plenty of time on my hands to experiment i wanted to include more collaboration, a lot of the link ups came together organically.

I feel you get a nice balance of some new school artists like Local, Solo Jane & Hotch mixed with some UKG generals like MC Neat, Mighty Moe, Preshus, Creed & Troublesome and original “Knightz of the round table” member Luckie Luciano, i always feel a duty to pay homage but i also want to evolve the sound and take it to the next level.

Since march 2020 its been a tuff time for people i feel like there are some hidden messages in the album it leans towards the underdogs of this world and at times i feel like that but there is always this burning desire inside me to want to do better hopefully that comes across for the listener.

Already with a dedicated fan base and support from tastemaking DJs such as DJ EZ, Conducta (Kiwi Records), Toddla T (Radio 1), Heartless Crew (1xtra), Majestic (Kiss), Scott Garcia (kiss), Smokey Bubblin B (Rinse fm), DJ Redhot (Rinse fm), Dj Cartier, DJ Spoony, Artful Dodger, MattJam Lamont (Rinse fm) Shosh (Kiss Fm) Rudekid (Kiss fm) Ricky Chalrie & Melvin (BBC Radio 1) amongst others from the burgeoning UK Garage scene,

The Smasher sound especially in UKG has brought a well needed fresh flava to a genre which has had very few full album offerings, with that said its time to share “Vibes In Motion” with the universe, This will solidify Smasher as an artist in every sense of the word and undoubtedly concrete him as one of the UK’s finest talents.

There are few genres in which German artists play such a central pioneering role as they do in electronic music, be it techno, electropop, trance or rave. At the frontline for many years were Kraftwerk and U96, two absolute trailblazers of this musical direction. While Kraftwerk wrote international music history mainly in the 1970s with cult albums such as Autobahn (1974), Radio-Aktivität (1975), Trans Europa Express (1977) and Die Mensch-Maschine (1978), U96 had a profound influence on the global pop music, rave and techno scene of the 1990s with hits such as ‘Das Boot’, ‘Love Sees No Colour’, ‘Night In Motion’ and ‘Heaven’. Transhuman, scheduled for release on UNLTD Recordings on 30th October 2020, will feature a spectacular collaboration between U96 (Ingo Hauss

& Hayo Lewerentz) and Wolfgang Flür, Kraftwerk’s drummer in the years between 1972 and 1987 and therefore involved in the most seminal albums by the group from Düsseldorf.

This remarkable cooperation was first announced and implemented by two joint numbers on U96’s 2018 offering Reboot. Transhuman sees U96 and Wolfgang Flür develop their creative exchange across a full album, creating fascinating sonic worlds. The title song ‘Transhuman’ and an updated version of ‘Zukunftsmusik (Radiophonique)’ will be released as lead singles, including, as we’ve come to expect from U96, experimental video clips. That New York record label Radikal Records immediately secured the rights to the album for the US and Canada points to major interest in this project, not only on these shores but also across the Atlantic.

“Transhuman is a stylistic mélange of our different histories,” describe Wolfgang Flür and U96 masterminds Hauss and Lewerentz an offering that is spectacular in many respects, featuring, along with typical U96 tracks such as ‘Clone’ and ‘Specimen’, numbers such as ‘Transhuman’, ‘Planet In Fever’ and ‘Sexersizer’ that are inspired by Flür’s past. Notably, the content has been reduced to the sheer basics, in other words: sparingly used associative statements with deep, but at times also playful and mysterious messages that the listener feels rather than consciously registers. The lyrics are about the transformation of people through technology and our massive interference in life on our planet. Hauss: “Pieces like ‘Zukunftsmusik’ and ‘Transhuman’ don’t tell a story in the classic sense, they articulate emotions and associations in very few words, bringing to mind recordings such as Radio-Aktivität, Autobahn and Die Mensch-Maschine. In addition Transhuman, features a number of melodies created on the basis of computer algorithms, in other words fractal music which takes us even further back in history, to Klaus Schulze, Stockhausen, the electronics laboratories of the fifties and sixties and the musique concrete compositional technique.”

Sutja Gutierrez is back on Lumière Noire. The finesse of his productions and his implacable stage performances have given him a special place within the Parisian label. In 2017, he released the EP "The Legend of Time" and one year later, he appeared on the compilation From Above with his track "Allodoxaphobia". He comes back here with an LP entitled PHYLAX SOCIETY, which confirms that Sutja Gutierrez is indeed an artist in his own right. Phylax means guardian in Latin, and the album’s title is directly inspired by the “Phylax Society”, a group of people who, in the late 19th century, wanted to create the ultimate canine breed, but who due their lack of consensus failed and dissolved. Later on, an ex-member eventually bred the very first German Shepherd. On this heartfelt record, as emotional as it is catchy, the artist deals with the feelings that come after the loss of a loved one, chiefly nostalgia and melancholia. The result is an ardent record where crooning is sincere and never a posture. The artist’s lo-fi psychedelic pop trademark oozes in every track of this album. Many of these songs feature his vocals, often doused in ethereal echoes or even shrewdly chopped and distorted in a way that reminds us of the great musique concrete experiments of the past. A DIY approach sometimes indebted to punk and post-punk music, all mixed with a vast variety of traditional pop instruments such as guitar, bass, electric keyboards and real drums, but also drum machines, synth bleeps, found sounds and other strange but fascinating samples. EMPTY FLOWER POTS, which was released as a single ahead of the LP, is definitely one of the album’s standout tracks. This catchy mid-tempo song is the perfect entry point into Sutja’s finely twisted world. A world in which you can find that particular balance between nostalgia and optimism. Oh, life is great, what is life? Life is death. . he sings. It is one of those songs that stays in your head for a while. Do not let the idea of alternative pop fool you, it is quite impossible to listen to any of these songs without reacting in some way or another through moving, dancing or thinking, regardless of the tempo or meaning. I’M DIGGIN’ might be the perfect example of this. Deceptively simple and far removed from dance music, this rock-infused number will not only have you singing along instantly, but you will also find yourself dancing and responding accordingly to the energetic mantra of this song... I'm digging for the truth, I am so diggin' into it. Truly, the dance floor is never too far, sometimes quite blatantly and sometimes in a more oblique fashion. Another case in point is PHYLAX SOCIETY, the eponym track which closes the album, a song in two parts, where a slo-mo club groove carries Sutja’s trademark singing to yet another level of uniqueness, with his surreal soundscapes, twisted melodies and everyday life sounds. An ode to humanity and an homage to the ones who are risking their lives every day in the mediterranean sea. It is rare to encounter an album which is immediately satisfying on one hand but also reveals more and more beautiful secrets with each listen. PHYLAX SOCIETY is clearly one of those special albums.

Invoking imagery of condensed, interstellar warfare - Dayzero takes command of the controls for Sentry Records' eighth release. Based in Japan, the acclaimed producer follows up on his substantial outings for Wheel & Deal and Hatched Music among others - having continuously refined his highly effective compound of Dubstep with vocal support from the scene's vital tastemakers. Now joining the Sentry roster with two monumental armaments, the newest signee shows us how it's done. Enrichening the sound system music scene with a no-nonsense production style as well as his innovative, experimental approach - all killer, no filler.

Taking off to another dimension in 'Sunday on Spaceship', listeners are met with feigned lo-fi soundscapes, carved out of analogue noise and detuned echoes. A state of overt tension dissolves into Dayzero firing up the heavy weaponry with stripped down sub bass tremors and meticulously crafted off-kilter groove. Amongst granular, apocalyptic percussion reverberating voices of days past flicker. Diverse drum instrumentation and supple distortion keep it lively, a no-questions-asked onslaught and guaranteed way to light up any dance.

Flipping over to the B-Side, we're placed on the receiving end of another ton of musical napalm. Finding ourselves being churned through bare concrete, laced with psychedelics. 'Down By Law' oozes of sonic variance, as industrial plucks shine through the cracks - furthering the aberration alongside narcotic staccato arpeggios. Subtle use of eerie harmonies and surging feedback wails is firmly kept in check by brute-force kicks and snares - ceremonious pressure underneath. Venting high-pressure 808's amidst supremely crafted breaks, leaving us yearning for more. A pair of mean-spirited sound-bwoy murder tracks on a twelve-inch platter - enough said!

Focusing on low-slung IDM, Acid and atmospheric Electro with nods to Krautrock & Ambient sounds, Steve Hyland's ATTRAKTTA project gets an extended outing on the FILM label. Across eight beautifully produced tracks, Hyland - one of the founding members of AI Records and subsequently Concrete Plastic, explores vibrant synthesis and intricate drum programming, with the music arriving at a sweet spot between home listening material & club-ready workouts for more intelligent dance floors.

Eschewing straightforward synth sequences in favour of blissed out - almost disharmonious sonics, Hyland transmits a curious psychedelia on his debut LP. Sounds pitch and warp organically, buoyed up by saturated low end and punchy drum machine percussion. There remains a decidedly accomplished precision to the work, though - with the music bearing all the hallmarks of an artist of some considerable experience - testament to the British producer & label head's 19 years working in the industry.

A colourful, exquisitely composed LP that riffs on a timeless production aesthetic with considerable style, Echo Principle is a fantastic entry into the FILM Records discography.