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“Neither from here nor from there” is often used to describe migrant identities in territorial terms. In the case of Siete Catorce, it works better temporally: his music has always been so far ahead of its moment that it ultimately carved out a space of its own within both Latin American and global electronic music.

Born in Mexicali and shaped between the Bay Area and northern Mexico, his musical identity emerged through hip hop, dubstep, and the independent borderland scenes. After several years in Mexico City — without a clear place inside the local circuit — he created his own space through his music, developing a distinctive DJ/live set and a singular vision of contemporary Mexican electronic music, becoming a key figure within the city’s most forward-thinking underground.

In 2026, he releases El Valle, his first album in nearly three years. The record moves through different currents of electronic music — ambient, techno, cumbia, and tribal — filtered through a unique rhythmic language marked by syncopation, unpredictable breaks, and a constant tension between restraint and energy.

The album opens with “Mexicali,” alongside Andre Pereda, a tribal track stripped down to its percussive essence, evoking the genre through an ambient and synthetic approach. From there, “Aragón” and “El Rancho” progressively increase the tempo and intensity, combining cadenced phrases with minimalist tribal beats and unexpected turns.

In the second half of the album, now moving through territories of 140 BPM and beyond, tracks like “Montecarlo 1” and “Tierra Roja” drift between futuristic bass music and large-scale techno structures. This is followed by the 8-minute epic “East LA,” where Siete Catorce expands the energy of syncopated techno before releasing it into a pre-Hispanic tribal journey with flute and all the drums required for the occasion.

The closing section arrives with “Tlatelolco,” accelerating into an epic cumbia infused with trance references, and “Los Pinos,” a direct and forceful finale sustained by some of the album’s most precise sound design.

More than genres, Siete Catorce’s work is defined by meticulous sound design and an exceptional rhythmic sensibility — qualities that have established him as one of the most respected drum programmers of his generation.

Teal return on October 2 with Love Comes Thru, the trio's nine-track debut album. Expanding their emotionally resonant blend of downtempo trip-pop, the record reaches into street soul, dub, and experimental grooves, marking a confident new chapter for the group.

At its core, Love Comes Thru is a reflection on the quiet strength of love—not through grand gestures, but through the steady presence that carries us through uncertainty, change, and connection. Written over the course of a year of bi-coastal collaboration, the album became a testament to the bond Teal share as artists, friends, and family.

From the lush synth landscapes of "Aries Moon" to the footwork-inspired pulse of "Time Is Blind," the album explores themes of patience, vulnerability, longing, and intimacy. Standout singles "Kissing in a Dream" and the title track lean into left-field street soul, while stripped-back, 808-driven tracks like "Change Your Mind" and "Anomaly" demonstrate the power of restraint without sacrificing momentum. Building on the group's love of ambient improvisation, Love Comes Thru also features instrumental pieces with percussion by Brandon Valdivia (Mas Aya/Lido Pimienta).

The album closes with the sensual "Bubbling," bringing the journey full circle with a reminder that love ultimately comes through in its most embodied, physical form. Love Comes Thru is presented in a deluxe, limited-edition matte-finish, double-embossed jacket with a printed inner sleeve. Available on LP and digitally through Rubadub, In Sheep's Clothing, and Forced Exposure beginning October 2.

A time in passing, a time of note. A release created in a moment of profound fondness, within a studio front of memory. A detour delivered to and released on Entered Records via the Zodiacs way of life. Jesse You is here to create the doorway of sound via his 4 tracks of driving psycho players.

Opening the release with Violet Expander a track driven with keys of suspense and basslines for the feet. Rudolf C’s V.E mechanical overhaul remix then hits with the peak funk head melt.

On the Bs a deeper journey tact is delivered through Sorti. A similar drive and suspense yet with a delicate melodic role. Final track Planet Malfunction is exactly that, a wobbly circular loop double backing on itself for the collision of sound, ultimately that malfunction.

A release that takes you on the detour you didn’t know was coming.

Beneath the sleek, confident guitar line that powers “Overdrive,” the lead single of All Over You, another guitar marks the time more impatiently, as if the groove its locked into is the timebomb- tightness of a pre-hookup heartbeat. Its energy isn’t nervous — after all, it’s hard to be nervous with Will Schwartz cooing come-ons like “I just wanna get you in the bed / Light you up like a cigarette” in your ear — but it is urgent. Excited. Titillated.


That’s the word that best describes the prospect of a new Imperial Teen record: titillating. They come out every five or six years, each new album acting as, to quote Roddy Bottum, “an episodic piece of where we are now, where the world is now, who we have become, and the geography of our collective consciousness.” There is considerable distance between Imperial Teen, its members — Bottum (guitars, keyboards, vocals), Schwartz (vocals, guitars, keyboards), Jone Stebbins (bass, vocals), and Lynn Truell (drums, vocals) — having made lives for themselves in different cities, but the collective consciousness that exists between them makes distance and time seem immaterial to the listener.


Time, especially time together, is not immaterial to Imperial Teen: it is precious. “For the last few records,” Stebbins explains, “the process has been similar. We live great distances away from each other, so initially, we get together to collaborate, write, and create. When we have enough material, we reconvene to record. Both scenarios, creating and recording, take multiple trips, sometimes with big lapses of time in between due to our various schedules.” Bottum concurs: “The biggest challenge in writing and recording is the distance between us, but the longing and desire and the ultimate coming together becomes more potent as a result.”


All Over You is a triumph of maximized moments together, four people bringing the force of their personalities to bear on years of built-up ideas. Title track “All Over You,” initially built over the computer, gained its charming sneer in the studio, where Stebbins’ buoyant, fuzzed out bassline added bounce to the song’s punchy, sloganeering lyrics, a perfect set-up for Truell to drive the song home, screaming the last line of the chorus, “We’ve got nothing to do,” like a rallying cry for a generation that’s been given nothing and told to deny themselves everything. “In my head,” Truell says, “I just went back to punk, to that feeling of prowling around looking for anything to do and being so mad about how boring everything is that you just have to yell.” The track had an attitude, it had an unexpected texture thanks to Truell’s playing improvised percussion, but her scream is what took it to the next level, transforming it into a signature Imperial Teen song.


One of Imperial Teen’s less magical concerns on All Over You is the effect capitalism has on the creation of art. This expresses itself in the headspinning rush of music industry success and disappointment that plays out in “Hands All Up,” and also in Imperial Teen’s sound. All Over You features the band’s most expansive, textured palette to date, and much of it’s steeped in — bubblegum music and boy/girl harmonies, electro beats and grungy distortion, power pop mall anthems and kiss-off lyricism — has been dismissed, at one point or another, as a fad. Time, of course, has proven otherwise, and All Over You makes a case for Imperial Teen as four of that time’s architects, inheriting, preserving, and pushing the boundaries of what pop music can be from one song to the next.


“We want to make people dance and think and feel,” says Schwartz. In all of those ambitions, All Over You crushes, brought to life by four musicians who found each other in the clubs of San Francisco over three decades ago and have remained family ever since. It is less a return from hiatus than a broadcast from the sonic utopia Imperial Teen has long ruled over, where the music is bratty and sexy and the parties don’t stop until everyone’s found euphoria. A raveup for mind, body, and soul, best enjoyed in a dark room packed with as many sweaty bodies as possible

Beneath the sleek, confident guitar line that powers “Overdrive,” the lead single of All Over You, another guitar marks the time more impatiently, as if the groove its locked into is the timebomb- tightness of a pre-hookup heartbeat. Its energy isn’t nervous — after all, it’s hard to be nervous with Will Schwartz cooing come-ons like “I just wanna get you in the bed / Light you up like a cigarette” in your ear — but it is urgent. Excited. Titillated.


That’s the word that best describes the prospect of a new Imperial Teen record: titillating. They come out every five or six years, each new album acting as, to quote Roddy Bottum, “an episodic piece of where we are now, where the world is now, who we have become, and the geography of our collective consciousness.” There is considerable distance between Imperial Teen, its members — Bottum (guitars, keyboards, vocals), Schwartz (vocals, guitars, keyboards), Jone Stebbins (bass, vocals), and Lynn Truell (drums, vocals) — having made lives for themselves in different cities, but the collective consciousness that exists between them makes distance and time seem immaterial to the listener.


Time, especially time together, is not immaterial to Imperial Teen: it is precious. “For the last few records,” Stebbins explains, “the process has been similar. We live great distances away from each other, so initially, we get together to collaborate, write, and create. When we have enough material, we reconvene to record. Both scenarios, creating and recording, take multiple trips, sometimes with big lapses of time in between due to our various schedules.” Bottum concurs: “The biggest challenge in writing and recording is the distance between us, but the longing and desire and the ultimate coming together becomes more potent as a result.”


All Over You is a triumph of maximized moments together, four people bringing the force of their personalities to bear on years of built-up ideas. Title track “All Over You,” initially built over the computer, gained its charming sneer in the studio, where Stebbins’ buoyant, fuzzed out bassline added bounce to the song’s punchy, sloganeering lyrics, a perfect set-up for Truell to drive the song home, screaming the last line of the chorus, “We’ve got nothing to do,” like a rallying cry for a generation that’s been given nothing and told to deny themselves everything. “In my head,” Truell says, “I just went back to punk, to that feeling of prowling around looking for anything to do and being so mad about how boring everything is that you just have to yell.” The track had an attitude, it had an unexpected texture thanks to Truell’s playing improvised percussion, but her scream is what took it to the next level, transforming it into a signature Imperial Teen song.


One of Imperial Teen’s less magical concerns on All Over You is the effect capitalism has on the creation of art. This expresses itself in the headspinning rush of music industry success and disappointment that plays out in “Hands All Up,” and also in Imperial Teen’s sound. All Over You features the band’s most expansive, textured palette to date, and much of it’s steeped in — bubblegum music and boy/girl harmonies, electro beats and grungy distortion, power pop mall anthems and kiss-off lyricism — has been dismissed, at one point or another, as a fad. Time, of course, has proven otherwise, and All Over You makes a case for Imperial Teen as four of that time’s architects, inheriting, preserving, and pushing the boundaries of what pop music can be from one song to the next.


“We want to make people dance and think and feel,” says Schwartz. In all of those ambitions, All Over You crushes, brought to life by four musicians who found each other in the clubs of San Francisco over three decades ago and have remained family ever since. It is less a return from hiatus than a broadcast from the sonic utopia Imperial Teen has long ruled over, where the music is bratty and sexy and the parties don’t stop until everyone’s found euphoria. A raveup for mind, body, and soul, best enjoyed in a dark room packed with as many sweaty bodies as possible

Rome, late afternoon, 1974. The light comes in over the colossal hills, the way it only does for an hour before the city forgives itself for the day's noise. Axefield is on an urgent quest to create cinema in the form of sound as a romantic alternative to disposable tools. He is looking for a sound so effortless he is not sure it can truly exist, but only be felt - somewhere between a film score, a heartbeat and a late night dinner at his favourite trattoria.

Ostuni Bound, NOW! is the debut album from Amsterdam-based electronic artist and composer Axefield, bringing club-heavy bass music together with the drama and romance of 70s Italian cinema. The narrative and emotions within the record stem from a romantic setting in Southern Italy that unexpectedly turned violent, forcing Axefield to flee the city after receiving the death threat "non provocare morte".

At its heart is the belief that romanticising life can lead us towards deeper human meaning, offering a different route from the hyper-capitalist pursuit of efficiency that increasingly shapes how we live and create. Throughout the album, Axefield worked through three characters representing innocence, control and destruction, using each as a framework for decisions in production, composition and mixing.

The album features Amsterdam-based rising UKG talent DANN and Johannesburg-based Kamohelo, frontman of Swedish electronic group Off The Meds. It's all starting to feel like cinematic time travel in which beauty is reintroduced in the realm of contemporary dance.

Released on Intercept alongside a beautifully crafted vinyl edition, Ostuni Bound, NOW! feels like the soundtrack to a film that was never shot. Somewhere behind him, a projector he cannot see begins to turn, playing a film for an audience that has not arrived yet.

As they arrive, he is the one who ultimately presses play.

And just like that, Ostuni Bound, NOW! Begins where Rome has always begun: beyond function and beauty and all that lingers in between.

Listen!

Klara Lewis’ distinctive talent for disfiguring sound into forms that remain recognisably song-like reaches a new peak here. Her new album Opening is a deceptive recording with veiled melodies and clandestine bangers.

Lewis, creator of worlds, treats music as a mirror that reflects a perspective misaligned with the real image. Her music moves in unusual and often startling ways. Acoustic instruments such as ukulele and piano are subjected to processes of deconstruction and reconstruction, their original forms continually reshaped.

The tracks within Opening offer an array of disorientating tactics; damaged field recordings are suddenly sliced into ominous rhythmical patterns whilst deceptively simple tactics provide foreboding dread. Often alien on entry, the progression of a piece can land in a surprising tenderness, or the other way around. The momentum grows as a physical state but also one which is questioning, desiring, encapsulating a feeling, to explore a further way of expression and ultimately connecting: A new closeness, a new perspective.

Opening is an album in which the protagonist’s manipulation of sonic matter seems to extend beyond the music itself, resulting in a corresponding manipulation of the active listener. Sounds shift, dissolve, and re-emerge in altered forms, creating an experience that feels both intimate and disorienting. Lewis maintains a delicate balance between abstraction and emotional immediacy, drawing the listener into a world where familiar musical gestures are constantly reconfigured in surprising ways.

The works on Opening are refracted through an exploratory and transformative lens, suggesting an artist continuing to redefine the possibilities of musical language as a space where the instantaneous and the eternal come together.

Music by Klara Lewis. Mastered by Stephan Mathieu. Cut by Andreas Kauffelt at Schnittstelle, Berlin. Artwork by Klara Lewis. Design by Klara Lewis & Nik Colk Void. Images from ”En Masse” by Circa, directed by Yaron Lifschitz. Dancer Holly-Rose Boyer.

Published by Mute Song. Released by Editions Mego© 2026

”Tide” commissioned for compilation album "Dissolving Strawberry" (2020), released by Irrlicht. ”Drip” and ”Feel” originally composed for the film ”Failed Emptiness” (2024) by Mika Taanila.

Partner in crime: Hampus Högberg.

Composer and multi-instrumentalist Koen Holtkamp has spent more than two decades shaping a body of work at the intersection of ambient, experimental, and electroacoustic music. Known for his role in the influential duo Mountains, as well as a solo catalog defined by texture and spatial awareness, Holtkamp has long explored how sound interacts with environment and perception. With Nightlife, he enters a new phase of that inquiry, one shaped as much by physical relocation as artistic evolution.

After leaving Brooklyn for the relatively rural setting of New York’s Hudson Valley, Holtkamp found himself immersed in nature and embracing a slower way of life, a shift that directly informed the album’s creation. Rather than rushing into a new project, he allowed the space itself to guide him, focusing on experimentation and play instead of a fixed outcome. Over time, a new instrument emerged from his modular system, built around physical modeling techniques that emulate plucked string sounds. Drawing on a deep affinity for acoustic traditions, from guitar soli to the kora and other chordophones, he began translating those influences into an electronic language, creating music that feels tangible, effusive, and even intimate, despite its synthetic nature. As the pieces took shape, Holtkamp expanded the project into a kind of imagined ensemble. Composed with specific collaborators in mind, the album features extensive contributions from drummer Greg Fox and saxophonist and flutist Matt Bauder, whose performances subtly reshape the material and draw it toward more fluid, song-like forms, alongside a guest appearance from Ben Vida on synth bass. Yet even as Nightlife occasionally resembles a band in motion, its construction resists traditional cohesion. Acoustic and electronic sources coexist to create a hyper-dimensional sense of space, with each element deliberately placed in its own distinct environment, yielding a complex yet inviting setting that feels both otherworldly and completely natural.

Much of the album was created during late-night sessions, which became a kind of personal ritual and ultimately inspired its title. Nightlife unfolds as a series of finely detailed environments, where stillness, texture, and subtle interplay take precedence over momentum. Each piece invites close listening while remaining open and unforced, reflecting both a change in pace and a deepening of focus. The result extends Holtkamp’s ongoing interest in how sound can shape, and be shaped by, the spaces we inhabit.

Larry June has built a career on making hard work look effortless, and his album Who Coppin’ stands as a masterclass in smooth, lifestyle-driven West Coast hip-hop. The album delivers a high-grade mix of Bay Area luxury, entrepreneurial motivation, and unbothered charismatic flows. Spanning a laid-back audio palette designed for early-morning juice runs and late-night freeway cruises alike, Uncle Larry balances the discipline of a hustle-first mindset with warm, sun-drenched production anchored by crisp organic instrumentation and heavy-knocking bass.

The album features a tightly curated roster of collaborators who align seamlessly with Larry's signature aesthetic. Spoken-word encouragement from Wallo267 sets an intentional tone on the opener "Go Outside Intro," framing the record around execution and focus. Soulful contributions from Jhené Aiko on "California Dream" and Musiq Soulchild on "Pretty Green Eyes" provide lush R&B textures, while NorCal legend B-Legit and longtime partner DJ.Fresh reinforce June’s deep West Coast roots. Meanwhile, Swizz Beatz injects high-energy bounce into "Flex," offering a vibrant contrast to Larry’s understated, cool-headed cadence.

Behind the boards, top-tier producers like Cardo, Teeko, Beat Butcha, Jay Versace, and June Santana craft a nostalgic yet modern backdrop filled with warm sample flips, smooth G-funk synthesizers, and relaxed soul grooves. The project builds to an emotionally grounded conclusion on "God Got Us (Ain't Too Many)," where June strips away the flexes to offer direct encouragement to his audience, proving once again that consistency, self-belief, and steady progress remain the ultimate luxuries.

2xLP, Gatefold Jacket, 18x24 Poster Included

Chloe Slater’s debut album ‘Riot Youth’ unfolds in the fleeting, chaotic moments before doomsday – a coming of age record fit for the modern world. Arriving right on time in an era when hopelessness and nihilism run rife, painting the truest portrait of what it is to be young, British, and brave enough to be hopeful today. Across 10 tracks, she departs her signature, succinct commentary on the issues plaguing her generation: social divide, toxic internet culture, our dwindling sense of community, the climate crisis and, ultimately, the vampirish billionaire class cashing in on our collective misery. She playfully shifts from these frank descriptions of society to moments of gorgeous, gut-punching poetry, crafting anthemic choruses and intoxicating one-liners from the gripes many of us can barely muster the words for.

Cologne based DJ and producer Barnt has been bottling his own weather system since 2010: captivating techno where melodies flirt, rhythms evaporate, and structure is something to tease rather than obey. An attitude, that pierces the average definition of techno. With an album and endless EP’s, he turned club orthodoxy inside out. Barnt has sent his tracks out via labels like Cómeme, Mule Musiq, Hinge Finger, Hivern Discs, Kompakt, or Magazine from Cologne, the enterprise he co-runs with a bunch of friends.

After his 2014 debut album on Magazine, that came out as catalogue number 13, Barnt is back with number 25, a new album, titled “After completing the Hex”. Eleven tracks, each grinding lowkey skewed. This is techno for dramatic entrances. Dance music for confusion. Freely played chords oscillate with intention. Alluring melodies glide across stoic beats. Peaktime vibes stripped to the bone. An album that provides Barnt’s most complete release until today, displaying his unique sound world effortless assembled. Mastered by longtime accomplice, producer Matt Karmil, it features playful, seemingly unintentional, meandering club spirits. There are melodies made from 100 notes and hooklines fashioned from just one. In-between calmer electric enchanters, minimal, free-spirted, tempting. His slinky madness occasionally presents sublimely embedded environmental sounds or oral samples, taken from sources like Torn Hawk’s “Trustfall” TTT cassette album. There is a touch of sadness, that veils the recordings at times, always defied by lightness and optimism. A record made with true inspiration, that overrides all fears. Drawn frankly from emotions, bringing the ultimate flow state, that unlocks a new techno gate.

To call this album important would be an understatement - Space Time Continuum is the culmination of everything ASC has been building with the Spatial family of record labels, comprising the very best of what atmospheric music can be, and showcasing what is to come. Label stalwarts and debutants combine to bring you the ultimate compilation of this music. ASC is proud to present to you Spatial’s magnum opus: Space Time Continuum - Chris Hayes" Featuring new original music from: ASC, Aural Imbalance, Chronicle, Eusebeia, Ghosts of MIDI, JLM Productions, KMC, Law, Probe-One, Reviver, Senses, and tdel. ● Deluxe Foldout Box Set with Full Artwork Print Inside and Out ● Marbled Vinyl 3x12" ● Each 12" has it’s own individual Full Artwork Sleeve

Here we are with the release of UHM013

Across the cosmic boundaries via spiritual exploration and in the void between shimmer and shadow you will find the astral soundscapes of Birds Of Pandaemonium...

Emerging from Brooklyn's late-night music ecosystem, 'Hazy James' Armstrong and Tim Wagner met nearly 20 years ago through the city's DJ and club scene. Each with different but complementary musical backgrounds which included a mix of folk, guitar, DJing, synths, drum machines, country rock, disco, jazz, and rhythm-heavy club music (being just a few!), the duo began various musical endeavours together & "exploring the darkness while pursuing light" which eventually lead to the birth of Birds Of Pandaemonium.

It was only a matter of time that the stars aligned (via an introduction from Shane Watson of Causeway) to bring the Birds onto the musical radar at Sprechen which led to the release of 3 renowned E.Ps and ultimately, their debut album, Eudaemonia. Obscure covers including Idris Muhammed's Loft classic 'Could Heaven Ever Be Like This', the rave defining Born Slippy by Underworld and the post punk/new wave 'On Islands' by New Musik sit alongside original songs shaped by fresh reflections on life, grief, and love with elements of dream pop, shoe-gaze & gothic pop to give wistful and pulse-driven listening experience that is hazy, romantic, and deliberately genre-blurring.

A truly unique listening experience that delivers broad strokes of sunsetting psychedelia and bleary-eyed optimistic, astral dream-pop across all 8 tracks.

Is it balearic? Not really, it's pretty much a genre all on its own (answers on a postcard).

Corps Perdu emerges from Lamin Fofana’s ongoing practice of creating immersive and multisensory sound environments, informed and inspired by the historically rich texts of scholars and poets working in the tradition of Black Studies. The words of W.E.B. Du Bois, Sylvia Wynter, Dionne Brand, Fred Moten, Édouard Glissant, Suzanne Césaire and Aimé Césaire are transmuted and circulated as sound, offered to listeners through radio, live events, albums and installations. Fofana honours his sources with an audible historical awareness, yet his sounds always simultaneously open out into the turbulent uncertainties of the present.
The music we hear on the album Corps Perdu was previewed within a series of collective reading and listening sessions carried out in Paris, Barcelona, Tunis and New York City, where voices from the audience read aloud fragments from a body of texts Fofana had selected. The spontaneous unfolding of close reading and listening, mixed live by Fofana in these collective listening experiences, speaks to the open-ended quality of Corps Perdu. The album, now published, is but one iteration of this ongoing inquiry into the relationship between sound and text.
Corps Perdu presents an introspective journey with no return, and as such is full of omens of all kinds. Across ten tracks Lamin Fofana creates a sibling or companion to the transformation he initiated in his previous album Works in Metal, building a narrative that takes us into Krakatoa prior to its eruption, and lets us listen to Césaire’s ‘flying seed dreaming very loudly’. The album’s track titles and narrative arc hum in and out and alongside Césaire’s poetry, mainly Césaire’s 1950 collection Corps Perdu, in which the ten poems are accompanied by engravings by Picasso merging fragments of bodies and plants—a collaboration that emerged from their first encounter two years earlier, at the Communist-led World Congress of Intellectuals for Peace, in Wroclaw, Poland.
The music on Corps Perdu labours intuitive hand-held melodies through dense processing. There are many rhythms throughout, though these never surrender to the density of the dancefloor grooves we’ve heard Fofana craft on previous albums (think of the ‘Obscure Light’ pair from Works in Metal for example). Instead, Fofana gently releases the clenched hands Césaire’s Corps Perdu begins with: ‘Among me, from myself, to myself, outside any constellation, clenched in my hands only, the rare hiccup of an ultimate raving spasm, keep vibrating word’. The album carries through sound the scattering and liquid fragmentation that shape the desperate metamorphosis of a ‘lost body’.

Houston’s premier street griot is stepping into his most profound chapter yet with his highly anticipated upcoming album, O.Y.N. Throughout a decorated career that spans over 1.2 billion global streams and a fiercely loyal fanbase, Maxo Kream—born Emekwane Ogugua Biosah, Jr.—has established himself as one of rap’s most authentic, uncompromising storytellers. From the raw trenches of Alief to the critically acclaimed triumphs of Punken, Brandon Banks, Weight of the World, and his triumphant 2024 independent pivot Personification, Maxo has long been celebrated by Pitchfork, NPR, and Complex for his cinematic, hyper-detailed world-building. Now, O.Y.N. finds the Houston icon turning his gaze inward, pairing his signature Texas grit with an expansive, global perspective that redefines his artistic boundaries.

If his previous work was about Maxo taking full creative control as an independent force, O.Y.N. is about him uncovering who he is at his core. Following the passing of his father, Maxo found himself searching deeper for his family origins, leading to a pivotal moment of artistic and personal rebirth. For the first time in his life, Maxo traveled to Lagos, Nigeria, anchoring his new music in a profound celebration of his Nigerian heritage. The emotional centerpiece of this journey is the JPEGMAFIA-produced single “Time Out,” an introspective track that moves away from the frantic energy of his past releases to offer a stripped-back look at love, loss, and legacy. Featuring a heavy, resonant drum presence on the outro, the song’s accompanying music video was filmed on location in Lagos, capturing Maxo navigating his ancestral roots in real-time.

While O.Y.N. reaches new emotional depths, it doesn't sacrifice the hard-hitting, volatile street persona that made Maxo a star. The album expertly balances soul-baring vulnerability with cutting-edge hip-hop experimentation, showcasing elite chemistry with some of the genre's most forward-thinking visionaries. Look no further than “Fake Jeezy,” a collaborative explosion featuring Denzel Curry and masterminded by JPEGMAFIA. The track is a masterclass in industrial chaos, combining sharp lyricism and early-2000s trap imagery with cold, surreal visual aesthetics. This duality highlights Maxo's unique positioning in the culture as a trusted street general who can effortlessly trade bars with rap's avant-garde elite.

From his early days flipping Kendrick Lamar's “Rigamortis” to sharing marquee tracks with the likes of A$AP Rocky, Travis Scott, and Tyler, The Creator on hits like “Big Persona,” “Cracc Era,” and “Cracc At 15,” Maxo Kream has always been a rapper's rapper. O.Y.N. represents the ultimate synthesis of this incredible journey. It is an album born from the soil of Alief but elevated by the spirit of Lagos—a raw, beautiful, and heavy-hitting testament to an artist who has survived his past, honored his losses, and fully embraced his destiny.

Metal is the debut EP from elisanyhm, an electronic and experimental musician who is based in Berlin.

The tracks that constitute Metal draw on a variety of materials and methods, yet they are commonly marked by an attempt to compose music in connection with a logic of refusal. This results in pieces that are both singular and capable of being set together.

A central tendency of the pieces on Metal is to stretch out time. This tendency could also be understood as: sounding time itself, without the rush of determination.

What might initially seem static can also, eventually, and ultimately be encountered as moving through dense layers. The deconstruction of direction leaves one affected by an indeterminate multiplicity of rhythms, voices, field recordings, and electronic sounds that are more than what one is supposed to construct.

Some recordings herald the future in ways that are impossible to see in real time. Teodros Makonnen With His Organ (ቴዎድሮስ መኮንን ከኦርጋኑ ጋር), by the artist Teodros Makonnen, also known as Teddy Mak, is one of those. Today, electronic sounds, synthesizers, and digital production are taken for granted in Ethiopian music, but in the early 1980s, they were novelties that polarized opinion. Even to this day, the story of Teodros Makonnen’s legacy has never been properly told. He played a decisive role in defining the sound of the digital era of Ethiopian music that emerged in the 1980s and beyond, both as a keyboard player and as a producer, songwriter, performer, and sound designer.

Ethiopian music was at a crossroads in the early 1980s. Much like music in the rest of the world, technology and automation heralded either a quantum leap in musical development or the annihilation of musicianship, depending on who you’d ask. The changes were incremental nonetheless, but with the benefit of hindsight one can clearly see that the changes meant different things in different contexts. Drum machines and electric organs came to replace many hotel bands because, all of a sudden, one musician could control drums, melody, and accompaniment. Teodros was one of the first musicians in Ethiopia to explore the possibilities this opened up.

Teodros’ father, Captain Makonnen Beri, was a chief pilot at Ethiopian Airlines and a music enthusiast at that. This would prove important to his development, as Makonnen brought back a piano from Germany, which would lead to the first steps in Teodros’ long musical career. Captain Makonnen’s work as Head of Flight Operations and as a pilot exposed him to the wider world that was far from commonplace for most Ethiopians. In a house where music captivated the whole family, the piano gave Teodros’ talent an outlet. Not only was a piano at home rare in Ethiopian households, his father also brought an Indian teacher to their home to teach Teodros and his brother, Captain Samuel Makonnen, music theory (solfeggio or ear training) and piano. Teodros and his youngest brother, the late great Dereje, a member of both the legendary Ibex Band and the Ethiopian reggae group Dallol, took up music from that point onward, with Teodros beginning to develop his proficiency at the age of eight. His father encouraged him to practice tirelessly at home, and Teodros later received musical schooling at the German School in Addis Ababa.

His obvious talent led to studies and formal education at the Yared School of Music, followed by continued studies in American jazz at Northern Virginia Community College in Virginia. Teodros cut his teeth professionally in his mid-teens, not only as a keyboardist, but also as an arranger for the Wabi Shebelle and Dahlak bands in the 1970s. He mastered electronic sequencing early, rising to prominence through the midnight recording sessions held during the military curfew. The pressures imposed by the curfew required precise and disciplined recordings, and Teodros delivered just that. This, in turn, led to collaborations with iconic artists such as Mulatu Astatke, Aster Aweke, Menelik Wossenachew, Tilahun Gessesse, Mahmoud Ahmed, and Alemayehu Eshete.

In those days, he sat in as a keyboardist with the Dahlak Band when Dawit Yifru took a hiatus to study in Russia, and also with the Ethiostar Band. He secured a residency at the Wabi Shebelle Hotel with the Shebele Band, together with Zelalem Tadese (drums), later succeeded by Elias Bekele, Mulugeta Hailu (bass), Teferi ‘Bibisha’ Mengesha (guitar), Kumelachew G/Selassie (trumpet), and Teshome Deneke (saxophone). A friendly competition developed between the bands associated with the Ras Hotel (the Ibex Band), Ghion Hotel (the Dahlak Band), and Wabi Shebelle Hotel (the Shebele Band). The music scene at Wabi Shebelle saw teenagers commanding the spotlight in an industry otherwise dominated by musicians of an older generation.

At the Wabi Shebelle Hotel, Teodros met a diplomat from Saudi Arabia and later visited him at his home in Addis Ababa, a meeting that had unexpected musical consequences. The man owned a Yamaha double-deck keyboard. That evening, they recorded Teodros Makonnen With His Organ (ቴዎድሮስ መኮንን ከኦርጋኑ ጋር) in one take. This recording, a cornerstone in the early digital sound of Ethiopian music, came about almost by chance, simply because Teodros got the opportunity. Traditional Ethiopian songs were cast in a wholly electronic style.

Once freed from backing duties, Teodros’ keyboards could explore dreamlike soundscapes that took Ethiopian music in new directions. Even though the cassette contained well-known Ethiopian songs, they were given highly original arrangements, performed on an electric organ with drum machine backing and rhythm patterns that left the listener with suggestive, lingering sounds. “Libesh Kabashen” (also known as “Anchi Bale Game”) and “Odu Gol Golesa” wrap you in the very stuff that dreams are made of.

Originally released on cassette only, this recording exudes a mystique that surpasses even some of the most obscure Ethiopian recordings of the day. It remained more or less unknown outside of Ethiopia until now. Some of the tracks, like “Addis Fikir,” are permeated with an almost naive buoyancy, free-floating sounds that lost contact with the ground the moment they were conceived. Others, like “Meche New Hageren Yemayew” and “Lelitu Alnega Alegn,” carry a moodier, quirkier timbre, with pulsating rhythms in the background. Yet even the darker pieces contain an unmistakable wave, something essentially Ethiopian. If most recordings of Teodros’s contemporaries at the time were teeming with atmosphere, his songs seem instead at home in the stratosphere, almost ethereal. Some of the music here could be filed under “lullabies,” were it not for the recurring, almost brooding feeling that engulfs the listener on the aforementioned tracks. You could easily be forgiven for drifting into a blissful haze as the music washes over you.

Up to the advent of electronic music production, Ethiopia was totally dominated by big bands on the one hand, and small groups on the other. The former were tied to large institutions such as the military, the latter emerged from the entertainment industry, in hotel bars and nightclubs. These groups were commercially driven, and bands ultimately had to foster a mercenary approach to employment, albeit not to the passion for music. In the light of this, Teodros’ musical legacy can be seen in two ways. On the one hand, he is a key player in Ethiopian music from the 1970s onwards, leaving an indelible mark through hundreds of compositions and arrangements, including soundtracks for numerous documentary films and advertisements for different companies. On the other hand, the way he and others employed electronics brought Ethiopian music onto a fork in the road.

The replacement of traditional instruments with electronic equipment was seen as impending doom by some. Others, like Teodros, saw new avenues for performance, production, and creativity. Just as later producers like Abegasu Shiota of Admas, Teodros was a trailblazer who opened paths that it took Ethiopian music as a whole more than a decade to rush into. The hotel scene had already been pushed toward electronic music by financial necessity and cost-cutting. Today’s revived global interest in Ethiopian music from the seventies and eighties, alongside a broader resurgence, has changed the reasons for using digital means of music production. They have become tools for musical dreaming. This is where the dreaming began.

Compiled onto one vinyl album for the first time, Landlocked (Numbers, 2026) presents Hallucinator’s 1999 debut album originally released under Mark Ernestus and Moritz von Oswald’s label Chain Reaction. Writing much surrounding the culture of what would be later considered ‘Dub Techno’ and its’ primary distribution center, Hard Wax, leads one down roads of shifting primary sources and decades old overheard smoke break recollections. Maybe brevity primes the listener to the paralinguistic to approach the sound on its terms; focusing on how things are uttered and not what.

This theory will remain unconfirmed. Hallucinator original press release left us with three or so gestures to consider over the years since:

“A new act on CHAIN REACTION”s distinct productional thesis. HALLUCINATOR are 3 people from he UK/London and this their first release ever- that’s all what the artists want to let us know…. This record is dedidacted to the memory of Stephen Lawrence!”

The first gesture is one of personnel. Since ’99, we’ve gotten to learn a bit more about the artists behind the Hallucinator project. All London-based, all writers, composers, and sound-designers— Anna Piva, Edward George, Trevor Mathison. These three seem to flow between parameters as aesthetic tactic and tacit structure to the work itself. For example, other collaborative shapes have come from this lineup including Flow Motion (Piva, George and Mathison) as well as the now defunct Black Audio Film Collective of which George and Mathison are founding members.

The second gesture is in the second line of the previous press release, “distinct productional thesis.” Much of Landlocked’s affect and sequencing seems to suggest an emotional study of entropy at the level of sediment. Rhythms play with space and capacity through polyvalence. The production chose subtractive vertigo, often switching and bringing back in elements that vanished from the track 6 minutes ago. Dubbing out so much of a track, one begins to associate sound akin to memories held in the experience of running your hand across a concrete block as a child. Felt (re)memberance in lieu of narrative tale. Using textures that flicker between colour and percussion, Hallucinator’s 12-tracker of loudspeaker perception music might be a mediation on the psychic wake of the Cold War. Intermittent strata of ambience and groove convects an active margin rifting event underneath a scorched geology of power in Western Europe. Again, this is all grapevine hearsay.

But it’s silence that voices the third gesture. The album’s sparse application of the written word touches on the ennui paradox of being landlocked on an island. Stuck. Trapped in the psychosis of occidental hypercentricism. A looping silence of Black British tragedy: “to the memory of Stephen Lawrence”. 18 year-old Lawrence was stabbed to death at a bus stop in southeast London by six white men in 1993. The rift of grief and implicit reiteration of modern subordination left by this hate act went legally silent for almost two decades until Lawrence’s killers were ultimately sentenced to virtually life in jail in 2012. Only six years removed at the time of Hallucinator’s initial invocation of rememory, the mind-numbing accretion of what Black Studies Professor Denise Ferreira da Silva might call “unpayable debt”, finds demonic ground across Landlocked, forming an aural sense of what continues to be refused.

The album ventures through spaces of overactive non-happenings: ‘Red Angel’’s factory floor dub flashes between smokestack and jungle visions, or the halfway mark’s stilted breath of ‘Dusk’ lending its mood to the sort of sedated dreams built from daily life under colony rule for instance. That linked rhythm links us back to our linked fates across Black and Brown folk is real, thus the syncopated signals through this work behave on the level of transnational radiotelegraphy, sounding out its windswept tension of a body negotiating a meat-grinder schema of linear production and wage for others to know that unspeakable thing can be broadcast in every drum tongue.

As the silence continues to reverb, we return to the sort of meaning-making that cannot be told but felt. Soothing to some, disturbing to others. Landlocked, a Rorschach test for a crumbled empire.

Vinyl Packaging: Gatefold LP + download card. Indie Exclusive Transparent Orange vinyl in gatefold jacket Limited to 1000. CD 6 panel Digipak. Gnosis is the highly anticipated 8th full length from Russian Circles. Across the span of their previous seven studio albums, Chicago-based instrumental trio Russian Circles traversed a diverse topography of sounds, moods, and approaches with their limited armory of drums, bass, and guitar. It’s difficult to chart an evolution in their sound when their records have always felt like well-curated playlists. It wasn’t uncommon to hear drone-heavy meditations, dazzling prog exercises, knuckle-dragging riff-fests, haunting folk ballads, and tension-baiting noise rock all within the span of one album. Still, it’s difficult to ignore the progression from the pensive and intricate melodies of Enter (2006) to the layered distorted dirges of Blood Year (2019). It’s been a gradual sonic shift owing to the band’s rigorous tour schedule and a predilection towards playing their more authoritative material on stage. But with their latest album, Gnosis, Russian Circles eschew the varied terrain of their past work and bulldoze a path through the most tumultuous and harrowing territory of their sound. As was the case for so many artists in the age of COVID, the obstacles of geography and isolation forced Russian Circles to reevaluate their writing process. Rather than crafting songs out of fragmented ideas in the practice room, full songs were written and recorded independently before being shared with other members, so that their initial vision was retained. While these demos spanned the full breadth of the band’s varied styles, the more cinematic compositions were ultimately excised in favor of the physically cathartic pieces. Gnosis was engineered and mixed by Kurt Ballou. Drums and bass were tracked at Electrical Audio in Chicago to maximize the natural room sounds of the rhythm section. Guitar and synth overdubs were conducted at God City in Salem, MA to take advantage of Ballou’s vast inventory of amps and effects pedals. Despite the entirety of the album being written remotely, the songs were recorded with the full band playing together to retain the live feel of the material. Owing to the climate of the times and a new writing method, Russian Circles created their most fuming and focused work to date—an album that favors the exorcism of two years’ worth of tension over the melancholy and restraint that often colored their past endeavors. European Co-Headline tour with Cult of Luna slated for Marc 2023 (Dates TBA). Russian Circles have received coverage from most notable press including Pitchfork, Rolling Stone, Stereogum, FADER, AV Club, Consequence, Decibel, Revolver and much more.

Though Scratch may have at times seemed crazy, it is worth noting that creative
genius appears so because geniuses see things others do not see and inhabit
realities unseen. As the music on this album reveals, Lee Perry's Black Ark creations
re-arrange the familiar into something new and magical.
Lee spent his early days working with legendary producers Coxsone Dodd, Duke Reid,
Joe Gibbs, Clancy Eccles and Prince Buster, and by 1968 he was an independent
producer, naming his studio musicians The Upsetters and scoring instrumental hits
with innovative rhythms that helped forge the new reggae style. In 1970-1971 he
produced what many consider the greatest works by the Wailers; in 1968 one of his
Upsetters productions hit #5 on the UK pop chart and more hits followed. That gave
him the funds to build his own studio and in 1973 the legendary Black Ark was born.
Among the many landmark classics cut at Black Ark are such incisive political
commentaries as Max Romeo's "War Ina Babylon," and Junior Murvin's "Police and
Thieves" (covered by the Clash). The Congos' "Heart of the Congos" album is a roots
classic and there are many wonderful obscure singles such as Carlton and the Shoes'
"Better Days." Many dub creations made innovative use of Scratch's sonic wizardry via
echo, phasing, reverb, fanging, wah-wah and various sound effects.
It all came to an end in 1978 as Lee, besieged by extortionists, freeloaders, religious
fanatics and assorted pilgrims, let the studio lapse. And then he set it on fre, some
say due to frustration, others say from mental collapse. He left Jamaica, collaborated
with musicians around the world, toured as a sort of mystic trickster/ shaman and
prospered. But his work at Black Ark will always stand as his ultimate creative
achievement.

We are so excited to welcome back Tigerskin with a brand-new Album. This 12” is the vinyl version
showcasing six deep, euphoric and banging tracks taken from the full album.

The digital album features twelve brand new tunes by Alex Krüger and delivers his 3rd studio album as Tigerskin.
“Image” not only continues his search for the ultimate dance floor deepness, and contrary to just imitating his own “best selling” club grooves, it rather displays his ongoing artistic progress as a producer and composer of electronic music.

Opposed to his 2013 album “All Those Goodbyes”, which musically rooted in the early 90s and included a ton of collaborations with friends and long time partners, “Image” focuses more on Alex’s general musical roots and shows his compositional preferences. Apart from a few samples, this time around it doesn’t feature any co-productions at all nor did Alex use crazy or special gear to create the tunes. Many sounds are coming from natural and acoustic sources. Expect 80s New Wave references or spooky Wagner-esque bits to pop up next to dusty downbeat interludes. Euphoria next to relaxation. Tigerskin’s journey leads him from ironic comments on the present times via deep, occasionally melancholic or dark and hypnotic material up to the final tune, a homage to the infamous German brothers, Thomas and Klaus.

Tigerskin’s love for experimentation and cross-genre diversity on “Images” is more tangible than ever before.

Dive into this great deep journey, Enjoy!

The ultimate Limited Edition double LP repress of "Morning Coffee" is finally here! ☕

Treat yourself to this ultra-exclusive double LP featuring an incredible liquid-filled vinyl. It's the perfect opportunity to acquire an exceptional collector's piece that is as hypnotic to watch as it is to listen to.


✨ Vinyl Features

Ultra-Rare Liquid-Filled Disc 1: much more than just a vinyl record, it's a technical marvel. This first disc contains a moving, coffee-colored liquid that comes alive to the rhythm of your turntable, offering a hypnotic and extremely rare visual experience.


Stunning Coffee-Marbled Disc 2: to perfectly pair with the liquid disc, enjoy a beautiful brown marbled vinyl that captures the warm aesthetic of a freshly brewed cup of coffee.


22 Remastered Tracks: 54 minutes of carefully selected, soothing melodies, remastered to bring a gentle warmth to your morning coffee routines.

Specially designed for fans who couldn't secure the original first pressing due to its instant sell-out, this limited reissue is the missing centerpiece your collection deserves.

FKJ returns with Tyber— a project that captures a period of personal and creative transformation following the release of his acclaimed album ‘V I N C E N T’. Written and recorded across multiple continents, the album reflects years spent navigating movement, solitude, collaboration and renewal.

The result is FKJ at his most expansive and uninhibited. Across ‘Tyber’, groove-driven compositions sit alongside jazz-led instrumentals, sample-heavy explorations and more direct songwriting moments, moving seamlessly through genres without ever losing cohesion. The album feels both deeply personal and globally informed, spotlighting an artist documenting his evolution in real time. It captures musical snapshots across London, Los Angeles, Paris, Brazil, and beyond to create music that combines intricacy and intimacy seamlessly.

Anchored by themes of emotional equilibrium and self-care, Tyber balances vulnerable storytelling with an unmistakable, groove-laden optimism. The album seamlessly weaves together spontaneous, late-night collaborations with artists like Labrinth, Bas, and Baby Rose, alongside deeply personal solo compositions. Ultimately, Tyber is a vibrant celebration of human connection and resilience, offering listeners an immersive, cinematic invitation into FKJ’s newly restored world.

The songs of Jules de Corte are condensed, folky gems with an almost effortless charm. Poised between the intimate and the universal, between lightness and darkness, they touch on religion, love, loss, and the small dramas of everyday life. Yet they resist easy translation. Packed with wordplay, de Corte’s signature alliterations, humor, and local cultural references, the songs inevitably lose something in another language. Still, when a Belgian quartet of improvisers takes them on, joined by American songwriter Bonnie ‘Prince’ Billy, the songs are reborn rather than merely transposed: literal fidelity gives way to interpretation, and what is lost in words is often gained in spirit.

Even without tracing every change, their overall effect is fascinating. Songs are slowed down, often doubled in length, and filled with unexpected musical intrusions. They gain fuller arrangements and are placed in an entirely new context. Replacing de Corte’s piano with guitar can create a radically different vibe, as in “Mariska.” An added solo can heighten the contrast between childlike perspective and the almost matter- of-fact brutality of “Little Anita.” In “The Stranger,” another use of contrast unsettles the everyday harmony, transforming it with a subtle, disorienting twist.

Ultimately, these performances show that interpretation is not successful simply because it is literal. With the groundwork laid by Linus, Bonnie ‘Prince’ Billy further liberated the songs from their original versions. Lyrics and melodies become malleable, shaped by his recognizable cadences, timbre, and personal quirks. Like his collaborators, he allows himself the freedom to bend the material to his own approach. There is no radical break between this performance and his other records. Listeners familiar with the originals may be puzzled at first; for those new to de Corte, it is a wholly different experience.

Does it really matter that the original “Little Jesus, Mighty God” is a 100-second nugget combining playful naivete with biblical fervor? In the hands of these five explorers, the song becomes an intriguing contemplation, with subtle musical shades and a recitation in which every syllable carries a maturity that offers a new perspective. Then there is “The Outsider,” which feels as genuine as any original American folk song. The musicians’ process is more than reinterpretation—it is reimagination, bringing new musical compatibility and emotional depth. Whether that depth was there from the start, waiting to be uncovered, or created in the process is beside the point. What matters is that Linus and Bonnie ‘Prince’ Billy have made the essence of these songs their own, paying homage yet dancing to their own tune.

Linus is the Belgian duo of guitarist and banjo player Ruben Machtelinckx and reedist and synthesiser player Thomas Jillings. Across five previous albums — Onland (2014), Linus + Skarbø / Leroux (2015), Felt Like Old language at the crossroads of folk, jazz, minimalism, chamber music and free improvisation. Their music is adventurous, shaped by a particular sensitivity to texture, timbre and the subtle interaction between musicians.

What began as a duo gradually grew into a flexible musical world, bringing Linus together with musicians such as Nils Økland, Ingar Zach, Niels Van Heertum, Øyvind Skarbø and Frederik Leroux. Yet each new constellation has remained recognisably Linus: music in which carefully considered forms leave space for intuition, interaction and the unexpected.

For their sixth album, Linus takes a new step by moving into the world of song and text. Inspired by a shared love for the late Dutch songwriter Jules De Corte, the album is a reimagining of De Corte’s unique repertoire. More than simply interpreting De Corte’s songs, they absorb and reshape them, bringing them into dialogue with their own musical language. In keeping with this open approach, they are joined by celebrated vocalist Bonnie “Prince” Billy. With albums such as 1999’s I See a Darkness appearing on several greatest album lists, Bonnie “Prince” Billy is a cult figure in the alternative folk scene, and his highly intuitive way of singing seamlessly matches the subtle interplay Linus has developed over more than a decade.

Put your hands together and please welcome Linda Lo to Shall Not Fade's Time is Now imprint. The LA producer/DJ's new 12" EP "Masa" drops 23rd Oct 2026 and f**k is it sick.

Linda Lo fuses* mambo, samba, and salsa with UK garage, dubstep, and club rhythms to make guaranteed rewind material that is gonna light up the dance…

* imma talk about this fuses sh*t in a minute.. First we need to get a bit philosophical. Cos rewinds and fusions aside, this EP is alive. It's part of something bigger and cyclical, without a start or an end. It is music. It was part of someone else's music before and it will be part of other people's music in the future. Right now though, it's Linda Lo's music.

Too esoteric? Let me elaborate and, let's talk about fusion. There is the fusion that is – steal a bit of genre X and culture Y, chuck it on the grid and strut about professing fusion – and then there's actual fusion: Music that is something "new" and real and genuine. Music that you end up describing excitedly as a "fusion of" things (even if it inevitably ends up doing it a disservice). Music that is simultaneously one thing and not that thing, and also something else and not that something else too. Music that is just "music" to the creator but is also part of the progression and evolution of music for others. Mala wasn't making "dubstep". Skream & Benga ended up not making Garage. Like many before and after they were making their music and Linda Lo is making her music so let's hear from her about it. Big up Linda. This is real.

Notes from Linda:

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“Like Croydon by way of Havana”

“Masa, or corn-based dough used to make tortillas and tamales, is a traditional staple food for many in Mexico and throughout LatAm. In the Maya worldview, people's flesh is made out of masa. In order to make masa, corn must be dried, nixtamalized, ground, and mixed (often by hand) to create the right textured dough. I find much of my music work is a collision and a mixing of many elements, all worked into one product. In this way, I've worked these songs, transforming raw rhythms and sub bass into hand-mixed tunes. ‘Masa - EP' presents four delicious heaters. The title track explodes with a fiery double-time dubstep groove. Mambo horn stabs bite through a bass inferno. ‘Cenote' looks down upon a subterranean pool of sound—still on the surface but impossibly deep. ‘Minifalda', pure flirt and gyration, calls in cuica and other voices from a samba bateria. Finally, claves stitch across ‘Mestiza', a fusion of blooming lush orchestration and jagged 2step rhythm.

Around 1960, my grandparents were regular dancers at the Palladium in Los Angeles: young, Mexican, and falling in love to dance music, specifically big band mambo. My mom, consequently, is a fantastic dancer, and her mambo collection along with my dad's exotica records formed the base of my own vinyl collection. When I first discovered garage and dubstep, there was something indescribably familiar to me, something mambo-like about the syncopated offbeat hits and drama. Later, as I began stitching together mambo claves and 2step drums, I assumed I was trying out something totally new. The farther I go, the more I see that I was wrong.

Dubstep, garage and jungle share a parental lineage back to dub reggae, originating from Jamaica. Mambo hails from Cuba, and sister genres of salsa to NYC & PR, and bachata and meringue to the Dominican Republic. Yet, these musical genres of the Caribbean have not developed in isolation. Reggae, mambo, dancehall, salsa, even son jarocho from Veracrúz, Mexico (where my family is from), all developed together, influencing each other fundamentally. Ultimately, all musics of the Caribbean have come from West African polyrhythmic musical heritages. Garage, mambo, dubstep, and salsa are points in time along one musical continuum.

I feel very honored to be a selector working in Los Angeles (and elsewhere!). I hope I can share some music for the next generation of young people to fall in love to. "

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I'm moved by what Linda writes here. #1 Doing what you love, and finding you are part of something bigger. Creating for yourself freely and hoping to inspire others with healthy amounts of care, humility, freedom, self awareness and enjoyment. (It is inspiring and I'm honoured we are now a part of sharing Linda's music). #2 There's something wonderful about finding connection and a sense of place. A place physical, spiritual and in time. Music can help us all find connection and be part of a place. Wheel it up wherever you are.

If you dig deep enough into the internet's lower depths, you'll find a shaky video shot on a camcorder. In 43 seconds, we see a makeshift drum kit built out of backyard Ostbahnhof trash, hear distorted vocals, and feel the anarchic energy of band and ravers dissolving into each other. It's now been twenty years since Bonaparte played their very first show at the legendary Bar25 on Berlin's Spree river. The ringmaster of this unhinged musical theater was Tobias Jundt then, and it's Jundt again now bringing the Bonaparte extravaganza back to the stage. New and nostalgic sit close together when the party's been going this long. Or, as they put it: "PARADISE IF YOU CAN STAND IT."

From late October through mid-November, Bonaparte will tour Germany, Austria, and Jundt's native Switzerland at full intensity, the full lineup - band to burlesque. Since their 2006 debut through their supposed farewell in 2019, Bonaparte played over 800 shows in 28 countries. Bottom line: "Too Much" isn't enough to properly celebrate a body of work like this. And the new songs from "PARADISE IF YOU CAN STAND IT" are far too significant not to bring to the stage. The lo-fi trash-punk of Bonaparte's earliest records has been built out with added layers, in production (largely alongside British avant-garde electronic artist HELiX) and in the songwriting itself.

The world certainly hasn't gotten any simpler since 2006. Tracks like "EVERYBODY PRESiDENT," loosely riffing on Zoe Leonard's poem "I Want A Dyke For President," and the corrosive "BRAiN ROT" mirror the social chaos we find ourselves in 2026. "OBEY (THERE iS STiLL A RiOT GOiNG ON)" is just as furious, though here the principle of hope still holds, as a multigenerational choir concludes "everything will be okay." Jundt speaks across generations again on "i LOVE YOU (MORE LATER)," dedicated in equal measure to his parents and his daughters: "Let the echo chamber bleed - from here into eternity."

The reconciliation and hope Bonaparte allows for and tends to, amid violence and all that noise, make "PARADISE IF YOU CAN STAND IT" a singular document of an artist grown wiser. Separation and grief don't cancel out love and vitality - they depend on each other. Ultimately, the album is a record of searching for and finding a home. To arrive, you have to let go.

And what better place to let go than in step with Bonaparte's wild, hedonistic party circus, finally back to gently terrorize our cities?

After almost twenty years of releasing music, Sven Tasnadi finds himself circling back to some of the sounds that first drew him into house music. Explorer was written at home following a longer break from producing and after moving out of his studio, a change of setting that coincided with a shift in priorities. "The tracks on this EP came together at home after a longer break from music and after I moved out of my studio," he explains. "Musically they are very deep and minimal, at times almost meditative. They were inspired by a new chapter in my life as well as my never-ending love and connection to artists like Lawrence from Smallville and Frank & Tony from Scissor and Thread."
That sense of returning to something runs through the whole record. For much of Tasnadi's career, producing and DJing were closely connected, with many releases naturally shaped by the club. Things have changed. "DJing is no longer my main focus, so I can dedicate myself to these deep and minimal sounds again, free from pressure or expectations," he says. "In a way, after almost twenty years of releasing music, things have come full circle for me."
"Atlas (Chapter 1)" and "Atlas (Chapter 2)" grew from the same initial idea but followed separate paths during production. Chapter 2 came first, while Chapter 1 emerged later from a variation Tasnadi discovered while the track was still essentially a loop. "I was still looking for the right theme for the original idea when another version suddenly opened up," he recalls. He saved that variation for later so he could stay focused on the first version. When he returned to it, the two had developed distinct enough identities to stand independently. Their shared DNA is still audible in the restrained rhythms, slowly shifting details and the way small changes carry much of the movement.
The title track moves further into dub techno, another longstanding passion for Tasnadi. "Explorer is almost a classic dub techno track," he says. "Subtle movements within a constantly repeating pattern create a particular atmosphere. It feels like the track could just keep going forever." It is a patient approach to repetition that he connects to artists such as Moritz von Oswald and his friend Daniel Stefanik.
"Megasektor", one of the first tracks Tasnadi made at home with a new equipment setup, brings the EP into deep house territory. "To me it's almost classic deep house, or at least how I define deep house for myself." Warm, compact and gently propulsive, it provides a natural closing point for a record that is ultimately less about changing direction than reconnecting with an instinct that has always been there.
Explorer captures Tasnadi at a point where making music has become more personal again. The four tracks come from following ideas for their own sake and from rediscovering the deeper, more minimal sounds that have stayed with him throughout his career.

Strawberry Guy’s new album ‘Give Me A Dream’ unfolds as a tender, fragile and intimate record. The 14 track album arrives as the ultimate hopecore long player, in a time when we need it most. It's a guiding light, healing for the mind, exploring the tight-rope balance that is making it through life intact. Strawberry Guy evolves from the dreamy indie-pop home recordings to a perfectly formed crystalline vision, utilizing an immersive studio approach. Shifting from sparse & fluid piano parts to rich, engulfing layered strings, infectious melodies and an exquisite rumination on manhood from fraught emotional states. Give Me A Dream is a big step up, brimming with ideas, glistening production, and a tender heart.

Asake’s fourth studio album, M$NEY, marks a major evolution in his career, trading the frantic energy of his early hits for a more polished, cinematic sound. The project explores the intersection of material wealth and divine favor, framing his global success as a spiritual journey. Rather than just celebrating the "soft life," Asake uses this record to reflect on the discipline and faith required to maintain his position at the top of the music world.

Sonically, the album expands his signature Fuji-fusion and Amapiano roots with help from long-time collaborator Magicsticks and international producers like DJ Snake. Tracks like "Worship" bring high-octane electronic energy, while "Badman Gangsta" featuring Tiakola offers a sleek, R&B-influenced collaboration. Throughout the project, Asake balances these high-energy moments with orchestral strings and jazz elements, creating a rich, textured listening experience that feels both global and deeply rooted in Lagos street culture.

At its heart, M$NEY is a balance of celebration and introspection. In tracks like "Forgiveness" and "Gratitude," Asake addresses the pressures of fame and the personal growth he has undergone since his debut. He remains grounded in his Yoruba heritage, blending boastful lyrics with sincere thanks for his trajectory. Ultimately, M$NEY proves that Asake is more than a hit-maker; he is a visionary artist documenting his life and legacy with newfound maturity and style.

Shape of the Unknown’ is kind of a double LP that fully embraces the idea of exploration. It is CHLOÉ’s most expansive and immersive work to date. ‘Shape of the Unknown’ is CHLOÉ’s fourth proper studio album. Its predecessor, ‘Endless Revisions’, was released in 2017. Nine years have passed. Nine years during which CHLOÉ has continued digging for music, DJing at internationally renowned clubs and festivals including Rex Club, Robert Johnson, Panorama Bar, Nuits Sonores, Glastonbury and many more, releasing EPs and remixes, while also allowing herself the time to explore entirely new creative paths.


The challenge is to capture the unknown, make it her own, endlessly reshape its textures, and ultimately preserve its mystery.


The first single ‘Drifter’, released back in June, already offered a striking glimpse of the sonic territories the album would venture into, driven by its hypnotically contoured basslines. The album's two other singles offer different windows into her world. 'Shapeshifter' captures CHLOÉ at her most hypnotic, balancing stripped-back techno and melodic house through deep rolling grooves, expansive bass chords and subtle rhythmic shifts that constantly reshape the listener's perception without ever disrupting the flow. Later, 'Repeating The Obvious' takes a more leftfield route, pairing staggered rhythms with retro-inspired harmonics and an understated indie dance pulse that feels simultaneously familiar and unpredictable.
CHLOÉ has ventured into live performance through new formats, notably alongside percussionist Vassilena Serafimova; immersed herself in film scoring with soundtracks for Paris la Blanche, Arthur Rambo, The Mountain, Blanquita, Guru and Unsubmissives; and developed compelling collaborations, from High Season, her project with Ben Shemie of Canadian band Suuns (which resulted in the album The Call), to her own organic, experimental audiovisual performances under the name Slo/Mo AV.


Throughout Shape of the Unknown, CHLOÉ blurs the boundaries between deep house, hypnotic techno, electronica and cinematic sound design with remarkable fluidity. The album unfolds as a continuous narrative rather than a sequence of tracks, moving effortlessly between beatless ambient passages, rolling analogue grooves and emotionally charged club music. Organic percussion, sweeping bass movements, melancholic harmonies and richly textured synthesisers create a body of work that constantly evolves, where no section feels static and every transition reveals another layer of depth. There is an unmistakable warmth running through the record, with grainy analogue textures and spacious production giving even its most driving moments an intimate, almost tactile quality.
The album’s title is no coincidence. It evokes a form that has yet to be named, something language itself struggles to grasp. CHLOÉ approaches it through an organic creative process. Each piece must first be performed in the studio, almost as if it were being played live. The album will be followed by a series of live performances and DJ sets, including a show at the Olympia on March 18, 2027.


She is joined by a handful of steadfast collaborators. Jazz trumpeter David Enhco appears on two tracks, ‘Undertow’ and ‘Inner Bass’. But above all, there are the voices: Ben Shemie lends his unmistakable presence to the radiant ‘More Than Just a Feeling’. Olivia Merilahti, singer, songwriter and one half of The Dø, appears on the otherworldly ‘TWYR’. Working with Olivia’s already hypnotic voice, CHLOÉ has approached it like a sculptor, enhancing its strangeness and dreamlike quality.
And finally, impossible to miss is the instantly recognizable voice of Kittin. A longtime accomplice, she lends her distinctive phrasing to CHLOÉ’s music here for the very first time. The strongest collaborations are often those that take their time, arriving only when the moment is right. Same kind, same bass, same vibe, same pride.


The result is an enigmatic, nocturnal record, drifting between introspective listening and dancefloor functionality, revealing an artist who remains far more interested in atmosphere, movement and emotional storytelling than conventional club structures. It is an album that invites us to dream more deeply and to dance again, both within ourselves and out in the open.

BATTISTINO, the artistic alias of Marco Battistini, is an Italian musician, songwriter, producer and DJ. His project is rooted in the meeting point between Italo Disco, French Electro, late-’70s Disco Music and Italian pop culture, reinterpreted through a contemporary vision that avoids nostalgia in favor of a distinctive sonic identity. His main influences include the aesthetic vision of Daft Punk, the musical freedom of Daniele Baldelli’s Cosmic Sound, the international disco movement of the late 1970s, and the golden era of Italian Italo Disco, with a special admiration for Righeira. His productions combine driving synth grooves, pulsating basslines and immediate melodies. Gritty electronic drums, saturated synthesizers and subtle harmonic distortion deliberately break away from the polished sound traditionally associated with classic Italo Disco. The result is a more physical and textured sonic palette that preserves the melodic elegance at the heart of the project. BATTISTINO’s visual identity follows the same philosophy. Elegant, reserved and almost bureaucratic, he prefers to remain behind the scenes rather than at the center of attention. More than a performer, he acts as the curator of a sonic archive, where every track represents a fragment of a larger story.

“Il Segreto” is the opening chapter of a conceptual trilogy inspired by an affair that was never revealed, set on the Italian Riviera in the early 1980s. Rather than telling the story itself, the project explores what remains: silence, forgotten details, invisible traces and memories suspended in time. Music, visual design and imagery all become chapters of the same narrative. Every release is a new file, every track a recovered document, every production another fragment of a story that will never be fully disclosed. BATTISTINO doesn’t tell stories. He preserves them. And, from time to time, he allows part of them to surface.

The 12″ includes a N.O.I.A. Remix!

For over 30 years the Midwest machine menace that is Paul Birken has been developing and exploring his love for the limitless potential that exists when you chain together synths, sequencers, samplers and beat makers, he is a true audio explorer communicating his own unique sonic exploration through his machines + odd dreams. Starting out back in the day merely with a Commodore 64 computer and a few synths, his studio gear arsenal has constantly evolved over the years into a myriad of unfathomable boxes, cables and bangin’ in his attic allowing him to freely manipulate his random audio creations into the most serious and fun grooves anywhere in the techno realms. Along-with his own imprint Tonewrecker Recordings, Paul’s appeared on a huge stack of the most impressive labels including Don’t Recordings, Fun In The Murky, Earwiggle, Mord and of course a plethora of remixes and tracks on our very own RIOT Radio Records.

From within a tomb in ancient lands comes this 'Bandage Boogie.' A hallowed homage to all things that are non-stop breakin'  n' stompin' n' boppin' to the RIOT beats that have now manifested themselves on a 'Mummificated' dance floor near you. This aint street life, this is tomb life, and you'll need as many sacred tanna leaves to keep you movin’ as your fiendish high priest will bestow upon you. This brewed techno fluid that we're administering will ultimately invoke 'The Curse of RIOT’ and you’ll be doomed to eternal bouncin' aboot to its 'Pyramid Pongo' beats that go mysteriously THUMP in the night. Each track on here, and especially in his infamously legendary live sets, are unique in that they get erased from his machines after their creation and won’t ever be spawned again, but ssssssssssssssh, Mummy's the word.

The full digital release also features two bonus immortal tracks delving you deeper into the life-giving sounds of this ‘Mummy Wrapsody.’

WARNING: THESE UNWRAPPED TECHNO BEATS CREATE A WONK-A-THON YOU WILL NOT ESCAPE FROM

Continuing its mission to bring classic records to a modern audience, Tresor Records celebrates the 30th anniversary of The Infiniti Collection with a remastered & expanded edition of this classic compilation from Infiniti, an alias of Detroit originator Juan Atkins, available on vinyl for the very first time.

First gathered together in the mid-'90s, The Infiniti Collection draws together tracks Atkins cut under the Infiniti name across a number of labels into a single, cohesive listen. Where his Model 500 work pushed toward the electro-funk that built Detroit techno's foundation, Infiniti was always the deeper, more
playful persona concentrated on what was then a nascent yet burgeoning techno sound. The collection stands as a document of Atkins at his most exploratory: futurist, hypnotic, and unmistakably human despite its machine architecture.
This collection brings together some of Atkins’ most essential work with tracks like "Sunlight", "Flash Flood", fan favourite "Game One", and the deep dub of the Moritz von Oswald remix of "Think Quick". Alongside Infiniti's Skynet reissue, a significant part of the Infiniti catalogue now lives in Tresor
catalogue, forming the ultimate archive.

The Infiniti Collection will be available from 30th October on triple vinyl and digitally with a cassette version being available exclusively through Tresor.

Repress of 2024’s self titled masterpiece. ‘One More Death’ and ‘Goatbrain’ are spectacular curtain-raisers, embodying a hedonistic spirit driven by incisive funk and possessed by merciless fuzz/wah-drenched guitar. Yet elsewhere, the band’s love of hip hop is the fuel for the end-credits-epic album closer ‘Ourobourus’ which marries infectious chant to breathless Lalo Schifrin-style breakbeat action. And which also means ultimately, like the titular oldest allegorical symbol in alchemy, we’re right back where we started. As Brad Dourif’s character Hazel Moates intones in the 1979 movie Wiseblood, “Where you come from is gone; where you thought you were going weren’t never there. And where you are ain’t no good unless you can get away from it”; in Goat’s eternal now of renewal and revelation, there’s never been a more potent means of escape.

Blue w/ black splatter vinyl. Following its initial triumphant 2023 comeback wave, their critically acclaimed studio album Sign of the Cross is treated to the ultimate deluxe treatment: a stunning Blue with Black Splatter Double LP package and a refreshed CD pressing.

'Come Into My Life' is a deep vocal house spine-tingler from Nathalie Capello and Rose Lonegran that is the subject of three separate remix EPs on Jus-Ed's top drawer Underground Quality label. This one begins with German house head Damiano Van Erckert layering in some humid chord work, before Reggie Dokes's Jazzy Adlib has fingers dancing nimbly across the piano keys to bring a brighter sound and Machillado's House Again remix is pulled apart and rebuilt as a rough-edged and dusty beatdown. Kossi Emmanuel keeps things bouncy and chord-laced for the ultimate soulful release.

Für ihre zweite LP ,Iconoclast HaHa" greift das Vierer-Ensemble Aluminum aus San Francisco den Shoegaze, Big Beat und Alt-Pop ihres Debüts ,Fully Beat" (Felte, 2024) auf und heizt die Stimmung richtig ein. Im Gegensatz zu früheren, selbst aufgenommenen Alben besteht das Album aus einer Reihe mitreißender Studioaufnahmen der gesamten Band , die alle während einer inspirierten Woche mit Toningenieur Jack Shirley im Atomic Garden Studio in Oakland aufgenommen, abgemischt und gemastert wurden. Die Leadsänger und Songwriter Marc Leyda und Ryann Gonsalves schaffen weiterhin die Balance zwischen poppiger Eingängigkeit und experimenteller Unbekümmertheit, während sie diese Songs mit Spontaneität, Unmittelbarkeit und Post-Punk-Hartnäckigkeit erfüllen. ,Wir wollten, dass dieses Album gitarrenlastiger wird", bemerkt Leyda, ,deshalb haben wir über Marshall-Stacks aufgenommen, um ihm ein schwereres Feeling zu verleihen und einen schnelleren, punkigeren Sound zu erzielen, der bei Live-Auftritten gewaltig und mitreißend wirkt." Thematisch nennt Gonsalves als große Inspiration ,die Frustration, in einem gesellschaftlichen System zu leben, das dich zum Scheitern verurteilt, in dem du immer ,nicht genug` oder ,zu viel` bist, und all die Wut, Erschöpfung und den Druck, dich anzupassen." Im Rückblick auf das Zusammenspiel von Stimmung, Botschaft und Strudel auf ,Iconoclast HaHa" erläutert Leyda anhand seiner ultimativen künstlerischen Frage: ,Wenn es sich so anfühlt, als würde die Welt in Richtung Untergang kippen, machst du einfach weiter und versuchst, etwas Kraftvolles und Sinnvolles zu schaffen - denn was bleibt dir sonst übrig?"

Forty years of cassette releases, pressed for the first time on vinyl

First of two instalments exploring the previously unreleased sonic archives of one of Poland’s most enigmatic
living artists - with its first volume focused on his deep listening practice and spiritual reverie (recorded 1990–2013)

The last time Andrzej Dudek-Dürer took a banknote bearing the face of the Polish anarchist Jarosław Dąbrowski from his pocket to trade it for a pair of shoes was in 1969. He bought them for 120zł - the equivalent of 100€ today - and never replaced them since then. Only rebuilt them, year after year, drawing a needle and thread through the leather each time it split, closing one wound before the next one opened. It became a ritual of precision, stitching a record of another year into their soles.

That same year, in Wrocław, he arrived at a conclusion that would recalibrate everything that followed. Convinced he was the reincarnation of Albrecht Dürer, he adopted the surname Dudek-Dürer, stopped cutting his hair and began wearing the same garments every day. It was the first ritual of many, though he wouldn't have called it that yet. Look closely enough, over the decades, and it is always the same gesture, returning in different material: hair growing in a single unbroken strand, a needle drawing thread through leather, sitar strings pulled taut across a neck he built with his own hands and magnetic tape spooling forward inside the cassette boxes stacked against his walls.

None of this began in a vacuum. Dudek-Dürer emerged from the Wrocław neo-avant-garde, in a Polish art world where an exhibition could be cancelled overnight by the stroke of a censor's pen. In 1973, his exhibition Auto-crucifixion was shut down by the state, and for a time he found himself blocked from exhibiting his own art at all - the one force in his life that ever came close to cutting the thread.

He seemed to experience it differently. In 1974, after long, patient research into sitar craftsmanship, he built his first prototype with his brother, a knowledgeable luthier. In 1978, in a smoked-out jazz club, he took his first steps into sound recording with the unreleased album Jazz From Underground with his first band. By 1979, recognition started to travel further than he could.

Turning toward Far-Eastern philosophy, meditation and the idea of reincarnation was another language of freedom for him. It was a way of claiming an inner territory the state could not reach, a border it could not close. Mail Art served a parallel function, reaching further out: in a country that restricted travel and expression, sending and receiving art through the postal system became an act of quiet rebellion.

The body, in his understanding, is only an envelope readied for constant transformation. From this came Metaphysical Telepathy: during the years he could not leave Poland, he treated that confinement as a rehearsal room, sending his mind out ahead on the same thread his body would later follow. Living Sculpture grew from the same root with performances of stillness beside static art objects, until the boundary between the object and the man beside it simply dissolved. Camera Meditation extended the same instinct into photography: a shutter click flattening three dimensions into two so that a single instant could be held forever. Inspired by the pioneers of self-portrait photography like Robert Cornelius, he used it to document time itself, and kept explaining to me: "You know. This is not about vanity. This is about observing time passing.”

The isolation did not end suddenly. It ended the way his own philosophy had already predicted it would, from the inside first. Mail Art quietly solved the problem politics couldn't. Correspondence built during years of confinement slowly worked its way through doors the state itself had kept locked. Contacts made through folded paper and stamps became invitations. Ultimately, invitations became passports.

In 1983 he made his first trip outside Poland, to Germany, in search of the audio technology he couldn’t get his hands on before. In 1985, he was invited by the Indian embassy in Poland to give a sitar concert on an instrument he had spent a decade patiently stringing together - half sitar, half tanpura, built from patience and determination. After the collapse of the People's Republic of Poland, the travels kept unspooling: South Korea, then Mexico, then Australia, Canada, New Zealand, Singapore, Japan and the United States - each stop leaving behind its own small knot of tape, tied off and carried home.

In the decades since, recognition arrived at the same unhurried pace: he conducted workshops at UC Berkeley, served as vice-president for artistic affairs of the Union of Polish Art Photographers and the Union of Polish Visual Artists between 2010 and 2014 and received the Bronze Medal for Merit to Culture - Gloria Artis. His visual work gradually entered collections including the National Museums of Warsaw, the Stedelijk Museum, Tate Modern, MoMA and the Venice Biennale. His musical practice, by contrast, never found that kind of room - left to circulate quietly, sharing his cassette tapes directly, waiting for someone willing to follow it further.

It took months before I could find a way to reach Andrzej Dudek-Dürer - his presence online is very close to nonexistent. Surprisingly, LinkedIn turned out to be the only door still open, a faintly absurd irony given everything else about him. I packed the strict minimum for a three-day trip and an empty notebook and made my way to Wrocław. His headquarters sits in the neighbourhood of Grabyszyn: a two-storey pre-war house that has belonged to his family for generations. The man who opened the door was long-haired, long-bearded, in his trademark leather shoes and patched jeans. We sat in his living room, in front of a computer where decades of recordings sat organised in cryptically named files, surrounded by books and objects that had arrived one layer at a time, leaving room for only two chairs in the middle. His shoes sat by the door, rebuilt so many times they had become their own quiet sculpture. Cassette tapes filled boxes against the walls, almost unlabelled, each one a spool of thread holding decades of sound that had never once been asked for, until now.

I listened for hours: meditating in front of strangers on the porch of a Seoul temple until the tourists stopped taking photos and simply waited with him; a stand-off with border guards at the US–Mexico crossing over an instrument they couldn't identify and didn't trust; a session with the Stockhausen family that he still, decades later, describes like it happened last week. All of it interrupted, occasionally, by the smell of soup boiling and fresh bread warming on the ceramic stove. After two days, it felt like being handed the end of a very long thread and asked, gently, to keep following it. I left with a USB drive holding his full discography, signed with his unmistakable signature.

Astral Meditations From A Living Statue is a length of that thread, drawn out from the boxes stacked against his walls - recordings gathered from different rooms, different countries, different decades. This first record breathes slowly: incense-thick, meditative, built for stillness. A cutting-edge séance in outer space where machines learn how to dream.

It begins with the neo-classical improvisations of Andrzej, space-delayed, recorded at Klub Muzyki i Literatury in Wrocław in 2002. 'When..So' opens the curtains with a deep-rooted meditation accompanied by slow-decaying piano figures illuminated by a candle-lit spirit gathering.

Los Angeles, 1990: a dormant villa, a grand piano, the voice of Bonnie Barnett. 'Exception' is captured in a single room, in a single afternoon - voice and keys circling each other, neither one leading, until the silence between the notes starts to feel like the instrument.

'The Meta...' and 'Tired Of...', recorded at Studio Morandi in Ponte Nossa, Italy, in 1992, settle into a sitar drone built entirely from patience - overtones stacking and beating against each other, strung by a man who never once set foot in India. 'Mastery Of...' follows, recorded the same year at Studio Suski in Łomianki, pushing that same hum further still, until pitch dissolves into a spectral reverie. 'Transcendental Sound', from 2000, closes the first record in a slow bath of celestial frequency - better heard beside the shores of the Odra river.

More than fifty years after deciding that a life could become an artwork, Andrzej Dudek-Dürer continues to inhabit that decision. His shoes keep wearing thin against the earth's crust. His hair keeps growing, one strand at a time. His cassette tapes keep spooling in the dark of their boxes.

Now the thread finds its last shape: a single unbroken groove, spiralling inward from the outer edge to the label at the centre. Never cut - the way nothing else in his life ever was. Drop the needle and it will find that groove and follow it, the same way a needle once followed leather, once followed a border it couldn't cross, once followed string into an instrument that didn't exist until he built it. This record is the other end of a thread that has been travelling for fifty years. For the length of both sides, it rests here, in your hands. This is a timeless proof that the Lord of the New Age was never lost."

Produced by Andrzej Dudek-Dürer

Mastered by Ruud Lekx

Liner Notes written by Mathias Chaboteaux

Pictures by Andrzej Dudek-Dürer

Artwork by Wojciech Gawronski

Executive Producer: Mathias Chaboteaux

℗© 2026 Huveshta Rituals Records. All rights reserved. HR006