Buscar:what are people for

Following their acclaimed debut album from 2022 on Alien Transistor Records, What Are People For? now release their first 7" single from the upcoming album, with a dark ambient R’n’B banger "Criminals" on the A-side, telling tales of snoozing criminals and tantalising promises of "Someday we will all be rich".

The already legendary B-Side features a charming smokefilled-bubblegum Spanish & English cover of the Cypress Hill song "Illusions", together with The Notwist, which they developed whilst on tour together last year. Obviously, a product of the recent legalisation of marijuana in Germany: Ich liebe dich Marianne.

What Are People For? make the perfect kind of dystopic dance music for our times. Born from a collaboration between artist Anna McCarthy and musician/producer Manuela Rzytki, the band could be the illicit lovechild of Tom Tom Club and Throbbing Gristle, displaying the ideal balance of hip shaking vibes and dark provocative content.

On their collaborative debut, McCarthy and Rzytki share songwriting duties. The album was produced by Rzytki herself. They are joined by Paulina Nolte on backing vocals and Tom Wu on drums, while Keith Tenniswood mastered the record.

The whole project stems from a publication and exhibition by McCarthy laying the foundations for the content and lyrics of the album, which is humorous, poetic and political. As a lyricist, McCarthy uses her storytelling ability to explore anxieties and desires, digging into free surreal word associations reminiscent of Su Tissues’ tongue in cheek experiments with Suburban Lawns, but also explosive and gripping like a Kae Tempest rap.
Rzytki’s precise sonic palette and talent at penning structured bangers perfectly complement McCarthy’s playful and subversive language manipulations. Rzytki's beats are rooted in old school Hiphop loop principles and an authentic love for the analog. Her use of an array of synthesizers and other "real" instruments adds to WAPF's depth, soul and sincerity.

The album opens with a joyful anthem, full of energy and melodic hooks. The audience is confronted with the quintessential titular question What Are People For? and told that they are just a mere disposable commodity. Throughout the album, lyrical themes revolve around underground aspects of society, violence, political ideologies, sexuality and mysticism. The content is deep but the album is as danceable as it is biting.

73, with its drum machine hysteria and hypnotic synth basses is a a text collage written on the 73 bus through London, consisting of situations and conversation snippets encountered along the way. Drones indulges in the narrator’s paranoia as they feel they are being watched by cigarette machines, whilst the haunting choir is half spoken, half sung, ending on the orgasmic chanting of the word “mummy”. Nursery Rhyme brings more soothing incantations. There is definitely an affinity for fairytales, albeit adult ones and especially the anarchistic ones such as The Moomins, who were a consistent influence on the band. The artwork for the record, created by McCarthy, is a beautiful children's book-style painting of the group in a forest, seemingly about to engage in a magical encounter to which we are invited.

WAPF? have absorbed and digested a variety of influences. Trip hop, Punk and Techno are rubbing shoulders on Party Time. 1977 was coined “Summer of Hate” in the UK and unsurprisingly in WAPF?’s Summer of War, ethereal singing alternates with a powerful marching Garage/Grime chorus reminiscent of street protests and UK culture.

Mz. Lazy starts like an invitation to meditation and references Gertrude Stein’s book Ida in which she develops the idea that publicity is a new religion and people are now famous for being famous. Repressed anger explodes into violence and freedom at the end of the song as our heroine eventually grabs an axe to destroy her oppressors.
Fantasize, on its part, is raw, sexual and liberating while the closing track Bring Back the Dirt is a welcome hymn into a world that is becoming more and more sanitised.

While exploring deep subject matters throughout their album, WAPF? manage to remain satirical, exciting and funny. Each and everyone of their songs have a cathartic quality.

The visual identity of the band is intrinsic to their appeal. Live, they are eccentric, wild and unapologetic, wearing see-through costumes, bright miniskirts and intricate headpieces while delivering their songs with sharp intensity. Their performances radiate queer sexiness and transcend B52's thrift store aesthetics, creating a space for collective dreaming.

WAPF? is a rare combination of contemporary punk energy, irresistible groove, absurdist dry humour and astounding depth of field. They have the mighty power to create a party with their music and soon you will find yourself lifting your arms as if controlled by an external force, to chant: WAPF? WAPF? WAPF?

– Marie Merlet (Malphino, Little Trouble Girls, London)

Robert Palmer's career has spanned over 25 years and encompassed any number of musical styles from jazz, r&b, reggae, pop, funk to the harder dance sounds heard on Some Like It Hot' as a member of the Power Station. Palmer's career commenced in the 60s and throughout the years received a number of awards, including a Grammy Award for Best Male Rock Vocal Performance (for Addicted To Love') and a MTV Video Music Award.

The Collected double vinyl album from Robert Palmer is a selected overview of his music, some lesser known tracks are alternated with hits like Every Kinda People', Johnny And Mary', Pride', Addicted To Love' and many more. His collaboration with musicians from different backgrounds were successful leading up to recording (the Bob Dylan written) I'll Be Your Baby Tonight' with English reggae band UB40. This single became a worldwide hit, reaching the top 10 in Holland and United Kingdom, as well as achieving solid chart positions in the USA, Germany and France.

Sadly the musical genius and true superstar Robert Palmer passed away, succumbing to a heart attack in 2003, only 54 years old.

California-based couple Allie Schulz and Alex Pasternak are Florecer, a producer and vocalist combo who draw on the energy that having their daughters gave them. 'Babies' and 'energy giving' are not often heard in the same sentence together, given the demands newly born small people often have on parents' time and sleep, but judging by these sounds, this pair have been fully inspired. The title cut is tropical and dub and kosmiche all collide into an undulating rhythm that's bright and demanding of your attention. Coyote dubs it into a more smooth affair and then 'What I Knew' rides world dub with steel drums. 'Running Behind' slows to a deep, soft plod with whimsical vocals this time, and Chris Coco turns up the reverb for a lovely, sleepy dub of his own.

Coil’s 17-minute soundtrack for »How to Destroy Angels«, performed on January 19, 1984: ritual music ›for the accumulation of male sexual energy‹, structured around magickal and numerological concepts.

Throughout history man has made and used music for two distinct and separate purposes. In recent years, particularly since the advent of sound recording, the most popular use of music has been for entertainment - the temporary amusement and distraction of as large a number as possible. As a consequence, many people tend to overlook its more fundamental and ancient use as a tool for affecting man's body and spirit. The many varieties of religious music from around the world contain a vast quantity of clues to the way in which sound can affect the physical and mental state of the serious listener, yet many find their associations with religion itself too difficult a stigma to overlook in their appreciation of the sound and its potential, for its own sake.

On this record, hopefully the first in a series, we have tried to produce sound which has a real, practical and beneficial power in this modern Era. Specifically, it is intended as an accumulator of male sexual energy. Although we make neither claims nor rules for its use, we do suggest that for maximum potency it should only be played in circumstances that exclusively male and/or onanistic in nature. What these are is entirely up to you.

The execution of the piece was structured around concepts we felt would work for us - in this case magickal and numerological rather than conventionally musical in form. One image or symbol which we drew upon that may be useful to bear in mind is that of Mars, often indicated by the male symbol.

Should this music have any power, over and above the banal and transitory titillation achieved by most records available now, it is a positive and beneficial power to be used and controlled by the listener, as he desires.

Coil’s 17-minute soundtrack for »How to Destroy Angels«, performed on January 19, 1984: ritual music ›for the accumulation of male sexual energy‹, structured around magickal and numerological concepts.

Throughout history man has made and used music for two distinct and separate purposes. In recent years, particularly since the advent of sound recording, the most popular use of music has been for entertainment - the temporary amusement and distraction of as large a number as possible. As a consequence, many people tend to overlook its more fundamental and ancient use as a tool for affecting man's body and spirit. The many varieties of religious music from around the world contain a vast quantity of clues to the way in which sound can affect the physical and mental state of the serious listener, yet many find their associations with religion itself too difficult a stigma to overlook in their appreciation of the sound and its potential, for its own sake.

On this record, hopefully the first in a series, we have tried to produce sound which has a real, practical and beneficial power in this modern Era. Specifically, it is intended as an accumulator of male sexual energy. Although we make neither claims nor rules for its use, we do suggest that for maximum potency it should only be played in circumstances that exclusively male and/or onanistic in nature. What these are is entirely up to you.

The execution of the piece was structured around concepts we felt would work for us - in this case magickal and numerological rather than conventionally musical in form. One image or symbol which we drew upon that may be useful to bear in mind is that of Mars, often indicated by the male symbol.

Should this music have any power, over and above the banal and transitory titillation achieved by most records available now, it is a positive and beneficial power to be used and controlled by the listener, as he desires.

Confessions of a Lonely Heart follows the journey of a heart searching for connection. Across nine tracks, including “Miss Me More,” “Someday” and “Psycho,” Eric Nam shares deeply personal confessions of heartbreak, yearning, obsession and self-discovery. While the stories are his own, the emotions behind them are universal: the desire to love, be loved and feel understood. “Loneliness can make us feel as though we’re the only person experiencing it, when in reality, it’s one of the most universal parts of being human,” Eric shares. “This album gave me a place to be honest about emotions that can be difficult to admit and confess things we often keep to ourselves. My hope is that people can hear pieces of their own stories in these songs and feel understood by them. When we’re willing to share what’s in our hearts, we remind one another that none of us is truly alone, and together, we can all be a little less lonely.”

Yes, yes funky people, another super sexy, soul, classic dancer makes it onto the DYNAMITE CUTS 7” series. This all-time soul gem “That what friends are for” by the amazing Madeline Bell and Alan Parker. This version is taken from her solo album, uplifting, with a touch of Latin hip movement, is the fresh, must-have 45 everyone is waiting for. On the flip “That’s the way I like it” is a banging version club mover. When you get the best British Library musicians with one of the hottest American soul singers, the magic happens. The band is made up of some of the biggest library legends; Alan Parker, Alan Hawkshaw, Chris Karan and Duncan Lamont to name a few.

Creole Culture is the triumphant return of Dawn Richard’s King Creole era. Steeped in history but with its flag planted firmly in the future, Creole Culture pulls elements from Richard’s heritage as a Black and Native American woman who has spent a lifetime making and engaging with music. Following New Breed (2019) and Second Line (2021), Creole Culture is akin to a panel of a triptych: a fully-realized sonic and narrative universe in which Richard, as King Creole, rebuilds her hometown of New Orleans in her image. She not only honors her city for what it was or what it gave her, but stakes a claim for it as a cradle of global culture now and for all time.


Creole Culture follows two acclaimed avant-garde R&B albums with composer Spencer Zahn — the later of which, 2024’s Quiet in a World Full of Noise, found Richard exorcising the specters of grief and trauma in the wake of her father Frank Richard’s health struggles and the killing of her cousin Cisco. It is a softer take on the brass-soaked swagger of Richard’s previous King Creole efforts, an evolution brought about when she realized she had left a crucial viewpoint out of her exploration of New Orleans: her own. “New Breed was the story of New Orleans through my father’s eyes,” Richard explains. “I used his samples, his music, his cultures, his work with Chocolate Milk, his side of the family. Second Line was my mom — her interludes riddled the album with her depiction of what is meant to be a Creole woman in New Orleans. The masculine and feminine sides of King Creole had expressed themselves through them, but the story felt unfinished, like my version of the story was untold.”
That story is, for lack of a better word, complex: at turns triumphant and tragic, sexy and mournful, braggadocious and contemplative. Creole Culture presents Richard’s New Orleans as a utopian soundscape — an intoxicating blend of R&B, soul, hip-hop, pop, and jazz — that’s survived and thrived despite the dystopian circumstances visited upon it. Richard presents the melange of influence and artifact on Creole Culture with the care of a botanist nurturing new hybrids in a rose garden.


What emerges from that care is at once delightful and unexpected, enlisting a crew of guest stars including Big Freedia, Anjelika “Jelly” Joseph, Tarriona “Tank” Ball, and Durand Bernarr for features that play against type. Tank’s turn at spoken word verse on “l v r” serves to add dimension to King Creole’s New Orleans, as does Joseph’s undeniable voice on “chuuuurch.” “I’m not normally a features girl,” says Richard, ”but King Creole can’t build a world from scratch without help. What’s beautiful about the features here — which is also true of my band and producers — is they come from people who understand the materials of the world they’re from, they’re people I love, and they’re people who are just extraordinary at what they do. They’re part of the atmosphere of this place. You need them for the record to breathe.”
In the end, that’s what King Creole creates: a space where Dawn Richard can breathe, can be at peace with herself, and let loose with others. From finding love in opening single “enough” to relishing in the Afrocaribbean futurism of “fiesta,” Creole Culture is a tremendous, freeing breath of fresh air. It captures the resolve of a woman and a place who’ve survived the unimaginable and sees the future not as something to be endured, but as something to be created. Dawn Richard has been making that future one album at a time over the course of her career. Creole Culture is her most stunning one yet.

Creole Culture is the triumphant return of Dawn Richard’s King Creole era. Steeped in history but with its flag planted firmly in the future, Creole Culture pulls elements from Richard’s heritage as a Black and Native American woman who has spent a lifetime making and engaging with music. Following New Breed (2019) and Second Line (2021), Creole Culture is akin to a panel of a triptych: a fully-realized sonic and narrative universe in which Richard, as King Creole, rebuilds her hometown of New Orleans in her image. She not only honors her city for what it was or what it gave her, but stakes a claim for it as a cradle of global culture now and for all time.


Creole Culture follows two acclaimed avant-garde R&B albums with composer Spencer Zahn — the later of which, 2024’s Quiet in a World Full of Noise, found Richard exorcising the specters of grief and trauma in the wake of her father Frank Richard’s health struggles and the killing of her cousin Cisco. It is a softer take on the brass-soaked swagger of Richard’s previous King Creole efforts, an evolution brought about when she realized she had left a crucial viewpoint out of her exploration of New Orleans: her own. “New Breed was the story of New Orleans through my father’s eyes,” Richard explains. “I used his samples, his music, his cultures, his work with Chocolate Milk, his side of the family. Second Line was my mom — her interludes riddled the album with her depiction of what is meant to be a Creole woman in New Orleans. The masculine and feminine sides of King Creole had expressed themselves through them, but the story felt unfinished, like my version of the story was untold.”
That story is, for lack of a better word, complex: at turns triumphant and tragic, sexy and mournful, braggadocious and contemplative. Creole Culture presents Richard’s New Orleans as a utopian soundscape — an intoxicating blend of R&B, soul, hip-hop, pop, and jazz — that’s survived and thrived despite the dystopian circumstances visited upon it. Richard presents the melange of influence and artifact on Creole Culture with the care of a botanist nurturing new hybrids in a rose garden.


What emerges from that care is at once delightful and unexpected, enlisting a crew of guest stars including Big Freedia, Anjelika “Jelly” Joseph, Tarriona “Tank” Ball, and Durand Bernarr for features that play against type. Tank’s turn at spoken word verse on “l v r” serves to add dimension to King Creole’s New Orleans, as does Joseph’s undeniable voice on “chuuuurch.” “I’m not normally a features girl,” says Richard, ”but King Creole can’t build a world from scratch without help. What’s beautiful about the features here — which is also true of my band and producers — is they come from people who understand the materials of the world they’re from, they’re people I love, and they’re people who are just extraordinary at what they do. They’re part of the atmosphere of this place. You need them for the record to breathe.”
In the end, that’s what King Creole creates: a space where Dawn Richard can breathe, can be at peace with herself, and let loose with others. From finding love in opening single “enough” to relishing in the Afrocaribbean futurism of “fiesta,” Creole Culture is a tremendous, freeing breath of fresh air. It captures the resolve of a woman and a place who’ve survived the unimaginable and sees the future not as something to be endured, but as something to be created. Dawn Richard has been making that future one album at a time over the course of her career. Creole Culture is her most stunning one yet.

Axis Expressionist Series

A collection of vinyl and limited digital releases, curated by Millsart, an alias of Jeff Mills, of his most eclectic and transcendent compositions that derive from his Every Dog Has Its Day project as well as new unreleased works. Vernacular creations that fall off from the "other side" of the Electronic Music tree, this project is designed for the experienced Techno music listeners, and its goal is to reflect upon the pure artistry of the craft of storytelling. A realization between music and life. Whereas "dancing" is the goal of Dance Music, the goal of this music is about "reflecting on the complexity and simplification of life".Soundtracks for people in their evolutionary process.

This release 'Drifter' is about 'Hype'.



Hype

An animal that prowls on the vulnerable - it excites those who might be looking the other way or with their eyes and minds wide shut.

What is life without hype?

As a transitional tool, hype can be most effective especially when impulse reactions are at play. Something of a psychological currency, there is a lot to gain by giving people what they want - the rush that comes with taking part in a process of making something bigger, more successful and more preferred. Even if there is nothing there.

What's wrong with getting exciting about something?

There are only a few rare masterclass cases that have lasted a lifetime.

As Andy Warhol proclaimed that "everyone will be World famous for 15 minutes" rings darkly true in an era when each one of us can be the talent scout, artist, critic, audience.......and then a revisionist, hoping to bring hype back again by reminding people how great the first round felt.

We are all free to use our attention and time anyway we please. This is the freedom we have, right?

In most cases, we wake up and at some point, the question of justification becomes a debate between those who found unconditional solace and those who re-discovered the subject of substance and "kicked the tires".

Should I care if others like or dislike something?

For some, the hype of something never ends. It hardens and becomes part of a foundation like a cement podium. Something to be stood on to speak over all dissenting voices.

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

Familiar. Usually reserved for things we think we know. A face, a place, a feeling, a record perhaps. Until, of course, they aren’t quite the same anymore. Or maybe you aren’t.
Jennifer’s debut album lives somewhere around there.
It’s a record about time, which is already a fairly ambitious subject considering nobody seems to have figured that one out yet. More specifically, it’s about what
time does to a person. The old versions, the new versions, and all the ones in between that you only notice when something suddenly brings them back. Someone you
haven’t seen in years. A room you used to know. A certain way the light falls. That sort of thing.

There’s a bit of a doppelgänger situation going on, too. Finding something completely new and somehow recognising it. Meeting yourself again without immediately realising who you’re talking to.
Which can be nice. Or strange. Usually both. The songs on Familiar sit comfortably with that contradiction. Looking backwards without wanting to go back. Missing things without necessarily wanting them
returned. Realising that people who once occupied most of your waking hours can become people whose address you don’t know. Meanwhile, some tiny, seemingly irrelevant detail from fifteen years ago remains perfectly intact.
Memory has its own filing system. Not a particularly sensible one.
Jennifer wrote a series of poems alongside the album. In them, familiarity appears in melting snow, rough coastlines, a kitchen already warm in the morning, somebody’s hands fitting into yours. Elsewhere she wonders about someone she
once knew everything about and now knows nothing about. They could live around the corner. They could live on another continent. They could, technically, be dead. Probably not. But that’s time for you.
Maybe Familiar is less about remembering who you were than realising you never entirely stopped being them. Things get added. Things disappear. Things come back looking slightly different.
And somehow, you recognise them.

On her first Harmony Index album, multi-instrumentalist and producer Nico Leibman spotlights the feelings that are most difficult to express, bringing out the friction between her dreamy hooks and harsher sonics. Written almost like a DJ set, the album shifts intentionally between piano-led trip-hop, lounge, dream pop, 2-step and breakbeat house, not languishing in nostalgia but defining a language that's rooted in desire, surrender and forward motion.

Until now, Leibman has been best known as a touring musician, working alongside artists like Jessica Pratt and Ana Roxanne, while slowly putting together new solo material in-between frequent tours. The album was written in bursts over the course of five long years and provided Leibman with a much-needed outlet - a chance for her to lock into her personal musical preoccupations, like Janet Jackson's 'The Velvet Rope', Everything but the Girl's 'Walking Wounded' and Prefab Sprout's 'Jordan: The Comeback'.

It's this era of pop - when nascent technology collided at force with skillful, soulful songwriting - that provides the album's backbone, fleshed out by Leibman's potent meditations on a spectrum of experiences in Los Angeles. And as the record was evolving, Leibman let long night drives crack her creative world open. Embracing the city's notoriously cinematic romantic side, she used the car as a "little chamber of limerence," in her own words, enabling her fantasies and acting as a test system for each song. "If it wasn't hitting in the car," she says. "It wasn't going to be on the record, period."

This sense of motion is evident almost immediately on 'Recognize', when Leibman's breathy words are carried into the night by choppy, uptempo breaks and resonant pads. So even when she simply coos over chugging guitars and bass on the first half of 'Enough', the drop into a low-slung breakbeat is implied. "Another digression, a break in this tension," she sings. "Was I foolish to believe that this was never your intention?" Leibman's tales of disillusionment are imbued with power, buoyed by her pitch-perfect production, with additional help from co-producer Cesar Maria.

On 'Don't Pretend', she sings softly and soulfully over decelerated Timbaland-inspired beats and a dubwise bassline, aided by additional production from Purelink. And 'If' marks the point where she lets go, infusing her euphoria with melancholy as her voice soars alongside the album's most infectious piano riff. Fittingly, the album concludes with 'Trust', a song about surrendering to the possibilities of love that works as a potent metaphor for the album's evolution. Over the course of five years, Leibman learned to let people in, finally trusting the process. "It's also a fantasy of what it would feel like to finally be in love again," she laughs, accepting that it's still just a fantasy. But it's this hope in unfulfilled longing that gives the album its unique character, defining a bold, unguarded voice in LA's experimental pop landscape.

*COMES IN GATEFOLD 2LP WITH LINER NOTES*

The premise of this compilation is simple: music we’d like to hear at the airport.

The idea came after learning that Honolulu’s international airport has been playing AI-generated music over its speakers since November 2025. First reported by Civil Beat, the news has caused frustration and disappointment among residents and visitors, as well as within the local music community.

Everyone knows Hawaii is one of the most musically rich regions in the world — why then is the airport using AI music? 'Music For The Airport' is our response.

Located in the middle of the Pacific at the outskirts of one the most remote cities on the planet, Honolulu’s Daniel K. Inouye International Airport (HNL) is for most people the first place they encounter when they arrive in Hawaii. Warm sun, tropical tradewinds, playful palm trees and majestic mountains welcome every traveler, as do the sounds of birds, familiar music from Hawaiian artists like Aunty Genoa Keawe and Israel Kamakawiwo’ole, and—at least for now—seventeen “island-themed” AI-generated songs.

In late 1977, while sitting in Germany’s Cologne Bonn Airport on a Sunday morning, Brian Eno noticed how terribly uncomfortable he felt hearing the airport’s “muzak” overhead. For a harried, hurried place like the airport where travelers scramble to their gates, stand in long border control lines, and wait impatiently for their luggage at the carousels, music can create more anxiety than calm. Asking himself, "What should we be hearing here?", Eno soon created ‘Ambient 1: Music For Airports’, a sonic remedy aimed at reducing nervousness in public spaces.

When we heard the news that HNL airport is playing AI-generated “muzak”, we were immediately reminded of Eno’s genre-defying 1978 album. And we were similarly inspired to react. But how? Recreating an ambient masterpiece wasn’t in our wheelhouse. We started digging through our catalog of licensed music which we haven’t yet re-released. We quickly realized this was our chance to highlight some of favorite songs from the so-called CD era: the 1990s and 2000s (with a few exceptions). In less than 20 minutes, we pulled 17 original songs recorded by local artists between 1984 and 2017.

The speed at which this project came together surprised us; reactionary gut instinct often produces swift and lasting results. Ironically, our new compilation likely took less time than it did for the state Department of Transportation to commission its AI songs in question. But even though ‘Music for the Airport’ came together in less than one week, the truth is that this collection of 17 songs is the result of years of hard work, trust, sacrifice, patience, and understanding. Building relationships with and licensing music from artists doesn’t happen overnight, but more importantly: these songs are the result of people pouring their hearts and souls into something they believe in. This music wouldn’t exist today without the artists and their loved ones who supported them along the way.

As of this writing, the DOT states its intention in creating AI-generated songs is to “highlight different aspects of the islands, aviation and the airport” and that “no state funds were used to produce them”. Okay, but at what cost? Technology disrupting the music industry isn’t news to anyone. AI music in public spaces are cost-saving measures, since its users (airports, for example) don’t have to pay the licensing fees typically required, which can be a worthwhile source of revenue for artists. But what happens when a place like HNL airport, which hosts more than 21 million passengers annually, uses music created by machines instead of people to represent Hawaii? The identity of a place beings to erode, diluted by a language learning model’s conceptual summary of what a people and its culture sounds like. To echo Brian Eno: what should we be hearing here? In other words: what should the music of Hawaii sound like?

We believe in the power of music, especially when it comes from the soul. We believe in supporting artists, especially as AI disrupts our lives. We believe that Hawaii must be represented authentically, especially when it comes to song. And of course we believe in vinyl, especially since it was a record from 1978 (Mackey Feary Band’s debut LP) that inspired Aloha Got Soul’s origins in 2010.

We hope you find as much joy in this compilation as we have. Perhaps it’ll soundtrack your next journey to Hawaii. At the very least, we hope some people take a moment to hear these sounds: in your headphones for now‚ maybe someday overhead at the airport in Honolulu.

A glorious night of no particular significance, Totally, the new album by Baba Stiltz. Recorded in Helsinki in studio with a drummer and overdubs committed in 5 days. Ballroom- sink songs of loss, grief, long drives on the I-5, centralized acquisitions, and corrective conditioning towards the prolonged effects of computerized lifestyles.

Every song looks you straight in the eyes, crooked and veering towards a light fixture off the side of the mirror. Ambivalence and assertions track us, down some gauzy networked afternoon. Relatively, perfectly, three dimensional. Proportions as they appear to us from outer intuition. Sometimes meaning is evoked through pure nothingness. Concealed and nothing known. We have no need for any paradise informed by anything beyond what is directly in front of us.

Stone repetition thwarts the possibility of control and surrenders itself to understanding. Who are we, and what are we trying to understand? To understand being universally greater than being understood. There are soap operas everywhere for those with eyes to see. You don’t have to look as hard as we currently look. The dramatic is everywhere, we breathe it unintentionally, then we come to hate it. Haptic, embodied facts of a tedious life lodged in the jowls of history. Everything under the
sky being the best bedlam has to offer. Your family, your relationships, your memory. As you eat a burger you are reminded of every sharp protrusion and corner under the florescent lights, the same lights you see when you’re born, and although unconfirmed, when you die.

Some of these songs were written years ago, some recently. The bookshelf and television set come into full view. Women/men come and go. Stars and poseurs collapse under their alienated contradictions, the search for truth yields to continued gradients of probability (collapse). Spatial order maintains itself through perceptional feeling. Silence, singing along to Roger Miller, people entering and leaving, figures hovering over you in your dreams and waking hours. Cool and fun, Totally

Text by Barrett Avner

David Norland is an Emmy-nominated English composer, known for his scores for drama and documentary, alongside his experimental choral and electronic music. Bringing stories to life through sound, he received critical acclaim for his debut solo album ‘Glam Tear Stain’ (2019) and is set to release follow-up album ‘La Source’ in June 2026 via Denovali Records.

Relocated back to his London home after many years in Los Angeles, and free from years of drug and alcohol problems, recent commissions for two choral works allowed Norland to return to the innocent origin of his musical world, and his experience as a parent prompted a lot of outward reflection. What kind of world are we leaving to our children?

Inspired by his score to the forthcoming silent black and white film ‘Carousel’ (2026), Norland found other music emerging that refused to be ignored. The film’s director opened the door to an entirely free scoring process – no temp music, no expectation, no guidelines, just pure intuitive expression. ‘La Source’ draws on this experience, alongside his childhood as a touring chorister, the honkytonk upright piano in the north-east London bedroom of his early 20s, his early recording experiments with a TASCAM 4-track cassette recorder, and his intense preoccupation with bells, flutes, stone architecture, and mysticism.

From the haunting, choral beauty of ‘E-Car Soul’ to the breezy album title track, Norland blends minimalist classical structures with electronics. A unified tapestry of blended voices, harmonies and textures, ‘La Source’ is a deeply emotional and melancholic journey for Norland. “In the end, I’m looking to find meaning through the music, like when I was a kid singing in choirs. But I get the most sense of meaning through transcendent experiences, rather than anything intellectual or dogmatic. I have to feel it, not think it. I’m trying to make work that’s luminous, wondrous, shimmering and strange, so I can keep having those experiences,” says Norland.

On his inspiration for the album, Norland adds, “I love making patterns in things and finding patterns. That’s why minimalism was so enticing to me, the patterns are so explicit. I love word play and anagrams. The big sadness coming through as I was making the record is this clarity over the future of my kids. Everything else is a complete distraction. This incredible nurturing planet and its ecosystem are being rapidly destroyed, and the forces destroying it are relentless and punitive. And they seem to be fine with consigning our children to live in an ever-more-hostile wasteland. You can’t pretend that’s not coming, if you do I think you’re lying to yourself. And perhaps eventually it will be the fact that people love their kids that will stir wider fear and action. It’s hard to think of anything more connected to the idea of spirit.” The result is the reflective, ecstatic, mystical and sad world of ‘La Source.’

Norland’s screen work includes the award-winning documentary Anvil! The Story Of Anvil (2008), directed by Sacha Gervasi, and since 2010, he has composed much of the music for US broadcasting giant ABC’s primetime news documentaries. His work for ABC is broadcast in the US and around the world on a daily basis.

In 2012, he was the music supervisor for Hitchcock (2012) featuring Anthony Hopkins, Helen Mirren & Scarlett Johansson and in 2017, he teamed up once again with Gervasi for the score to November Criminals starring Chloe Moretz and Ansel Elgort. The following year, he composed the score for the Emmy-nominated HBO film My Dinner With Herve, starring Peter Dinklage and Jamie Dornan.

Norland will be performing the score of Carousel later this year, and the score itself will be a forthcoming release on Denovali. 2026 will also see the release of documentary All Permits Secured, a valentine to the history of EDM, featuring Norland’s score.

Once upoun a time Fat Mike came up with the idea of calling up 101 of the best old and new punk rock band around, have them each record a 30-second long song, then put all the tracks out on one record to make the best punk compilation ever. And guess what, the dream came true. The 101 most famous punk rock bands around doing each a 30 seconds long song Back in print for the first time in ten years! Pressed to Lime Vinyl Features super rare songs (recorded exclusively for this compilation) by Green Day, The Offspring, Blink- 182, Pennywise, Rancid, Less Than Jake, The Vandals, Bad Religion, and more

It's hard to explain an album when one listen is enough. All the more so with MaMaMa: there's no room to stay passive. Listening to his new album, EST, means immersing yourself in an atmosphere that's softly psychedelic, comforting and organic all at once. A dreamy, electronic pop that proves this Strasbourg-at-heart, Paris-by-adoption musician, arranger, singer, songwriter and producer never stops reinventing himself. After changing his name — formerly Petit Prince — and delivering two critically acclaimed albums ("MaMaMa-gnificent." / "Hooks you carry in your head for a long time" / "sumptuous arrangements"), Elliott Diener now offers an even more sincere record. Real songs in French, after two albums where production sometimes took up all the space: "when you make heavily produced music, once you strip away the layers of sound, there's no fruit left underneath. On EST, I don't need makeup for the songs to work," he admits.


That's what this new album is about: the song and the French language first, then the pleasure of sound. An album less concerned with talking about its own making, more inhabited, more embodied, within a contemporary folklore. With this new album, don't expect to be bored: EST is his best record yet.

No pretense


Entirely conceived in his studio in Pantin — a room of his own, at last — imagined as a space free of any daydream, open to every sonic landscape, MaMaMa offers a record that's both hazy and downy soft. Often composed very early in the morning, it has become nostalgic without being dark, melancholic without being sad, with a few lineages showing through: Flavien Berger, Moodoïd, Feu! Chatterton for the taste for words and unease, Mount Kimbie for the approach to sound and rhythm. Unsurprising, given that EST was finalized with the British duo's producer. Live, MaMaMa is preparing a show in the style of Nicolas Jaar or UTO. Hypnotic and immersive.

The most liberating thing is that EST is an album without pretense. With it, we move through perseverance (in Aussi loin qu'il tiendra debout), the small arrangements we make to avoid facing reality (Tout sauf la vérité), and the fragility of bonds we thought were solid (Si bien ensemble). We also touch on lasting conflicts with the people we love (Anywhere You Are, There You Are), misunderstanding (Elle me parle une langue), and the erosion of friendships (S'envoler). EST draws an intimate and redemptive map of human relationships, in a body of work that's both lucid and sensitive — like when he also addresses social masks such as filial love (in Beau garçon, dedicated to his son) or relationships that have become impossible.

"It's really the album that sounds most like me, in terms of sonic landscape," Elliott points out. A record that rises above the noise of an imperfect, shifting world — like us — joyful in its words, liberating in its production. A true gem.

Trumpeter, rapper and sonic wanderer Pan Amsterdam has carved out one of the most distinctive voices operating at the intersection of jazz and hip-hop today.

Pan Amsterdam is a musical enigma wrapped in an enduring riddle. His creator is a jazz musician from Houston who’s found fame working with Detroit punk rock God, Iggy Pop, and British indie royalty, Metronomy, and now makes shapeshifting, adventurous hip hop out of the music’s spiritual home, New York.

He’s an irreverent character born out of frustration and named after a misunderstanding, yet one who’s on the verge of releasing his fifth album of truth-slaying, genre-crossing rhymes and beats. The result is a catalogue that feels both deeply rooted in Black American musical tradition and completely untethered by convention.

Pan Amsterdam returns with ‘Panarama’, his fourth full length album and a bold reassertion of his hip hop identity, released via Def Pressé. Created by Houston-born, New York-based musician and composer Leron Thomas, the record finds Pan Amsterdam embracing the harder edges of his sound while continuing to blur the lines between jazz improvisation, abstract rap, punk attitude, and experimental production

Written as a response to contemporary life and the endless cycle of information, conflict and distraction that defines modern culture, ‘Panarama’ unfolds as a stream of consciousness journey through hyper-normalised realities. Across sixteen tracks, Thomas navigates social commentary, personal reflection, absurdist humour, and cultural critique, delivering his observations with the same spontaneity and freedom that have become central to the Pan Amsterdam project

Lead single ‘Szechuan Beef’, produced by acclaimed collaborator 1FS, serves as one of the album’s defining statements. Built around Thomas’ signature free-flowing delivery, the track explores the overwhelming nature of contemporary life, where domestic conflict, social division, entertainment scandals and political discourse become flattened into a constant stream of content.

In Thomas’ own words: “My stream of consciousness style comes quite naturally to me due to the conditioning of scroll down culture where everything, no matter how minor or extreme, is hyper normalised.”

Elsewhere, the track ‘Vanilla Ice’ was written in response to widely publicised ICE killings and the speed at which tragedy is absorbed and forgotten within online culture. Thomas channels the anxiety and emotional disorientation of endlessly consuming information, allowing his thoughts to unfold in real time as social commentary collides with everyday digital noise. The result is both deeply personal and sharply observational, reflecting the fragmented reality of modern life. Other album highlights include the cinematic, Interpol-esque opener - ‘Old Friend’ complete with shimmering guitar lines and an far-reaching introspective, no-filter vocal as Thomas teams up with Nick Zinner (Yeah Yeah Yeahs) and Brad Truax (Interpol) across multiple tracks, often the production traverses left-field indie territory, but always maintaining Pan Amsterdam’s unique musical identity throughout. For the hip hop purists and beats lovers there are plenty of riches to discover from the clever nostalgic sample flips of ‘Cutlery’, the sleepy lofi of ‘Shuriken’ and the wonky LA beat scene / early Flying Lotus era beats of ‘Drunken Noodles’ - all boasting quick witted lyricism. ‘Deep Fried Shiney Things’ explores early electro and industrial sonics while album finisher is an upbeat new wave / indie band cut which sees Thomas take a break from rapping, but of course never letting up on the sharp observations nonetheless


While his previous record explored more alternative territory, ‘Panarama’ marks a deliberate return to rap, as Pan Amsterdam explains:

“I just wanted to do a rap album again.I enjoyed making my last album, but I felt like rapping again. I like to have the freedom to move in between musical worlds that suit the current state I’m in. Frequency accommodating frequency.”

This philosophy runs throughout the album. Tracks move effortlessly between jazz-inflected arrangements, experimental beats, punk energy and underground hip hop aesthetics, allowing ideas to evolve organically rather than conforming to traditional structures. Thomas describes himself as an improviser first and foremost: “I think like an improvisor. That’s how my albums pretty much move. It’s improvisation.”

Featuring additional contributions from Spice Programmers, AnOtter and Mr. Shn, ‘Panarama’ presents a wide-ranging cast of collaborators while remaining firmly rooted in Thomas’ singular creative vision. The record embraces contradiction, humour and unpredictability, capturing fleeting thoughts and observations with the same freedom and spontaneity that define jazz improvisation itself.

A musical enigma wrapped in an enduring riddle, Pan Amsterdam has built a reputation as one of contemporary music’s true outsiders. The project emerged from frustration, experimentation and artistic freedom, with Thomas drawing equally from his background as a jazz musician and his collaborations with artists including Iggy Pop and Metronomy. Operating from New York while carrying the spirit of Houston’s musical heritage, Pan Amsterdam has developed a distinctive voice that sits comfortably between avant-garde jazz, underground hip hop and experimental music.

Reuniting with Def Pressé for ‘Panarama’, Thomas explores what he describes as the more hardcore side of his artistic identity:

“They let me do anything and everything I wanna do so long as it’s on audio, and I need that freedom. What may verbally be perceived as vulgar to one group of people may be very thoughtful and a poignant description of the times that we’re presently in, so I’m glad that I’m part of a label home that understands that.”

Tenuous Links welcomes Torino’s very own VIOLA to the label with his new ‘Wrinkles’ EP. As the label owner of Reflue Records, VIOLA first caught my attention with his debut full-length release, a body of work that showcased a deep, rugged sound and a clear technical prowess shaped by his surroundings rugged coastlines and industrial landscapes of Torino in northern Italy. After speaking with Cristiano for over a year, it felt like a natural progression to bring his music to Tenuous Links. “The music I write almost always functions as a visceral soundtrack to whatever environment surrounds and infects me while I'm creating. Deeply rooted in the architectural contrasts of the places I’ve inhabited.”

‘Wrinkles’ is VIOLA’s second full-length body of work, yet the years of graft and dedication behind it are immediately apparent. Across three original tracks and a remix from London’s Jay Duncan, the EP delivers pure grit and crunch, inhabiting large, cavernous atmospheres grounded by pummelling bass, dynamic drums and intricate rhythmic detail.

The title track ‘Wrinkles’ is an ode to club spaces and the scene that revolves around them. Its broken rhythm channels the dancefloors of Cristiano’s formative years, spent partying in abandoned bunkers and warehouses in and around Torino. VIOLA explains: “Crafting such a raw, gritty bassline felt like an absolute necessity during the writing process, retracing memories of long nights spent dancing in silence.” The track’s cavernous atmosphere mirrors those pitch-black, unlit spaces, drawing us deeper and deeper into the abyss, with only brief glimmers of light offering reprieve from its relentless, all-enveloping bassline.

‘Mon Tom’ draws heavily from VIOLA’s hometown and his complicated relationship with Torino ,a city where tranquillity and beauty sit alongside heavy industry. The calm of the coastline is violently interrupted by vast steelworks and plumes of black smoke, leaving an imposing industrial mark on both the landscape and its people. The track reflects these contrasts. Metallic yet fluid, it moves at a faster pace, built around a driving 4/4 rhythm designed to suspend the listener while skittering percussion creates an increasingly uneasy sense of movement. It’s a meeting point between the beauty and brutality of the environment that inspired it.

‘P Maggiore’ was written between 2019 and 2020 while VIOLA was living in Rome’s chaotic Porta Maggiore district. Surrounded day and night by the grinding noise of trains, screeching tram brakes and beaten metal, he translated those raw auditory memories directly into high-pressure sound design. Yet, in contrast to the intensity of his surroundings, VIOLA deliberately pulls back the tempo.

Rounding off the EP is a skeletal remix of ‘Wrinkles’ from London’s Jay Duncan. She strips the original back into a techy, rolling cut, retaining its atmosphere and darkness while introducing a lighter touch of minimal-esque sound design. The result is a subtly transformed take on the title track that provides a fitting conclusion to the EP.

‘Wrinkles’ EP is a record shaped by place, by architecture, industry, memory and the physical spaces that leave their mark on us. From Torino’s industrial coastline to the chaos of Rome and the darkness of abandoned club spaces, VIOLA turns his surroundings into sound. Coming to vinyl and digital October 16th of October.

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.

No Home is the new album by Lane Hartley, releasing October 23rd 2026 on Royal Oakie Records. Produced in collaboration with David Hartley of The War On Drugs & Adam McDaniel (Animal Collective, Angel Olsen, Geologist), the album was recorded at Drop of Sun Studios in Asheville and features contributions from North Carolina’s tight knit music community–including Mary Lattimore, Seth Kaufman of Floating Action & Dream Sitch, David Hartley, Jack Victor Johnson, and more.

After recording his debut album Naming Horses, Lane left Los Angeles and returned home to the Carolinas, eventually landing in Asheville. It wasn’t too long until the songs started flowing and Lane found himself reaching out to Adam McDaniel at Drop of Sun Studios–a vaunted space that’s been at the heart of indie-rock the past few years, bringing to life recent albums from MJ Lenderman, Wednesday, Fust, and more. McDaniel introduced Lane to David Hartley, and what originally started with discussions to record one song quickly turned into a plan to track a whole album live with a six piece band. Once in the studio, co-producer McDaniel encouraged the group to lean on intuition–“All of the players on this record really brought it to life in such a cosmic way. They instilled so much childlike wonder and fun into the making of the album. It inspired me to keep going” says Lane.


Lyrically the album is a collection of vignettes about people who’ve become alienated from their deepest desires of connection, belonging, intimacy, and autonomy–inspired both by Lane’s own life and the lives of people he’s loved. The unique character of the album emerged when Lane made the decision to pair the dark lyrical content with bright & lush arrangements, inspired by Gene Clark’s No Other, Neil Young’s After the Gold Rush, and Amen Dunes’ Love. In Lane’s words, “The content of the songs got way darker, and my reaction was to make the songs catchier, and to lean harder into the music that influenced me. I wanted each song to feel like a room in a haunted house, with a beautiful garden growing outside”.

Album opener “I Am Not Ashamed” was inspired by the anti-memoir of actress Barbara Peyton, a 1950’s Hollywood starlet who met an untimely end; “It’s about knowing that whatever you’ve done to survive, you still deserve love” says Lane. “Mother” pairs lyrics about ancestral trauma with the sunshine-pop influence of Colin Blunstone, featuring backing vocals from Lane’s sister Barrett Hartley. “It's about coming to terms with the fact that the people meant to protect us are dealing with their own trauma…”

Meanwhile, “All Of This Is Yours” and “Tone Poem” form the spiritual center of the album, an attempt to transmute anger & pain to bittersweet acceptance in the wake of a breakup. “I feel like on the surface this is essentially a breakup album, a lot of these songs are about mourning the end of a relationship and reflecting on what went down. I was falling in love and getting my heart broken, then waking up and driving across the country and doing it all over again.” “Love Is Not A Song” was inspired by Margo Guryan’s Love Songs, pairing bright piano with playful lyrics about an old man who’s been beaten down by life but still believes his greatest love is yet to come. Last but not least, title track “No Home” sums up the album’s key theme of alienation, “It all goes back to this feeling of wanting to belong to someone or somewhere, wanting to belong in your own body.”

‘Finally’, the forthcoming new record from Catz ’n Dogz, belongs to the latter.

There are albums you listen to, and there are albums you live with. ‘Finally’, the forthcoming new record from Catz ’n Dogz, belongs to the latter.

Across sixteen tracks, Voitek and Greg have created their most creatively ambitious and emotionally open work to date. An album about relationships, friendship and the people and places that shape us. At its heart is a simple idea: music should make you feel something, and sometimes the most meaningful moments are the quiet ones when you finally have time to yourself.

Finally is rooted in the emotional contradictions that make memories so powerful. Inspired by classic American Folk and Soul, its songs are happy and nostalgic; hopeful without pretending that the past doesn’t exist. There is melancholy inside the euphoria and warmth inside the sadness, a constant interplay between looking back and moving forward.

The album begins with the soulful breakbeat glow of 'We’re Gonna Be Alright' featuring Ajii, before moving through the smoky jazz and piano-led intimacy of 'Dance For You' with Miller Blue and the bass-driven energy of 'Sun Goes Down' featuring Charlotte Haining. Closing with the reflective 'Miss You' featuring Mateusz Krautwurst, the record takes in a rich cast of vocalists, musicians and producers, alongside a series of deeply personal Catz ’n Dogz solo productions.

Those collaborations are central to Finally. The album is, in many ways, a celebration of the creative friendships Voitek and Greg have built throughout their journey. Relationships that have allowed them to step outside their comfort zone and rethink what their music can be.

Written and recorded between Madrid, New York, Warsaw and the road, the album finds the duo placing renewed emphasis on songwriting, chord progressions and musical craft. Rather than simply chasing the next track, they took the time to learn, experiment and create something with a sense of permanence.

This is an album for driving without a destination. For watching the sun go down. For remembering somebody you haven’t thought about in years. For those rare stretches of time when there is nowhere else you need to be.

For more than two decades, Vidmantas ?epkauskas has occupied a singular position within European underground culture. As the driving force behind Opium Club and gallery 1986 in Vilnius, founder of Ant Bangos, Alfavilnius and OLE festivals, curator, label owner, promoter, DJ and artist, he has spent much of his life creating the conditions for other people's music to be heard.
It makes sense then that he has no shortage of friends and collaborators in play. Across ten tracks, V presents shades of Italo, krautrock, post-punk, minimal synth, industrial pop and neon-noir romanticism, arriving somewhere between the dancefloor and a dream-state. The cast of collaborators both contextualize and help sharpen the vision.
First and foremost, much of the album was crafted alongside Frankfurt's Philipp Lauer, whose friendship with V grew through marathon studio sessions. Curses lends his unmistakable blend of dark romance and theatrical energy to "Is This What You Want?", Australian cosmic journeyman Dreems joins for the kaleidoscopic "Blitz Disc," Domenique Dumont brings their unmistakable emotive touch to "Avventura," while Lithuanian artists Noyus and Ruta MUR, both distinctive voices from the country's queer scene, whose vocals add another dimension to the record's emotional palette. As V puts it, "These are the people I've been vibing with."
That he finally delivers a full-length LP with such elusive qualities is more than a clue to his character. The title itself, a nod to Magritte's famous paradox and his years living in Brussels, suggests that any attempt to define V through a single image is destined to fail. At once playful and philosophical, 12:55 (Ceci n'est pas une V) questions ideas of identity and artistic value while marking the closing chapter of the musical persona that followed ?epkauskas' earlier success as Vidis. Neither retrospective nor statement of intent, it feels like a connected set of reflections spanning a lifetime of influences.

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?

2026 Repress

Multi-faceted artist Calibre today shares his sixteenth studio album "Feeling Normal". The album is out now to pre-order on Vinyl, CD and on digital platforms via his own independent imprint Signature Recordings.

The record is his first bonafide 140bpm record and a staggering body of work that shows the genius levels of one of electronic music's most respected auteurs. Across the 13 tracks, he transcends through space and time, creating music that will take the listener on a weighty sonic journey. The album announcement is accompanied by two dub versions "Bad" and "Badder" deconstructed from the track "Badman" with DRS from Mark Ernestus available via his Hardwax store January 29th and Bandcamp February 12th. "Getting to work with Mark Ernestus is a real honour, I collected Basic Channel, Rhythm & Sound and his other work for many years and still do. It's hard to avoid the influence of this guy in electronic music across genres and so it is a real pleasure to have him do his thing with the Badman tune which I think sounds closely related."

All of the tracks on the record have been road-tested in Calibre's DJ sets over the last 2/3 years with many of them being sought-out by his hardcore fans. It was only a matter of time then that he put them out for all to consume. With a nod to the dancefloor, the clear idea for the album came about following the release of his most personal album to date "Planet Hearth". "It still works in the headspace but ultimately it's been written for the sweaty club experience we miss now, also after an album like Planet Hearth it felt very liberating to do," he remarks. When writing albums, he often just puts it down to the general chaos of life, not citing any one influence but generally just waits to see what comes. With one of the tracks on the album written 7 years ago on the island of Valentia, It became a project that he spent the intervening years collecting tracks for, not really knowing when he was going to put it together as an album. "The whole album is special to me, everything on there has import and meaning beyond for me, I have spent much time on all these and hope they are special for other people too."

Belfast-born, Berlin-based Calibre - AKA Dominick Martin - shows no sign of slowing down. As a producer, DJ, songwriter, multi-instrumentalist and painter, he is one of the most unique and inspiring living artists. With a career spanning two decades, his ability to remain underground whilst being one of the most-respected is testament to who this enigmatic artist is. To this day, he has never been remixed and has a seriously impressive amount of unreleased music under wraps. With everything on hold and gigs on the backburner, this record is exactly what the world needs right now.

Priding themselves in having cultivated a community and culture at their club nights, they play some of the best music ever cut to wax. It might not be quite what you’d expect from a typical northern soul night, it isn’t stepping back into the past, it’s the music stepping forward into 21st century.

“We’re not interested in nostalgia – we love soul music because it’s brilliant. It probably still resonates with young people because it has a message of something bigger than what’s inside your own head – that what really matters resides in relationships with other people, not material things. We think that is beautiful” – DNSC.

“Deptford Northern Soul Club have emerged as the new faces of northern soul” – Yuck.

As featured in Alan Byron’s documentary Northern Soul: Still Burning (2026).

“By recontextualising northern soul in a modern context, they empower the genre to continuously evolve, imparting new meaning to younger, perhaps previously unaware audiences” – Pilot magazine

(limited red vinyl, including poster / lyric sheet) 'The Way You Talk Reminds Me Of Home' is the second album by Belgian indie band BLUAI. Two years after their warmly received debut 'Save It For Later' and an extensive run of shows across some of Europe's biggest festivals and venues, the three-piece return with their most ambitious and immediate record yet.


Across eleven songs, BLUAI explore what it means to live somewhere between past and present. Conversations with family, friends, partners and people who resurface after years away become starting points for songs about childhood, love, grief, responsibility and the uncertainty of approaching thirty. Rather than a traditional coming-of-age record, 'The Way You Talk Reminds Me Of Home' is about figuring things out while you are already in the middle of them.


Produced by Isabel Gracefield (Adele, Dua Lipa, PJ Harvey, Radiohead...) and recorded at London's legendary RAK Studios, the album was made with a deliberately instinctive approach.


BLUAI much as they sound on stage: raw, direct and closely connected.

Rubbermaidxxx is a recent music performance project by the Irish artist Anna McCarthy, rather than simply the title of one autonomous artwork. Rubbermaidxxx is a character or unstable identity, an emancipatory underdog with a heart for daredevilry. The project sits naturally within McCarthy’s larger practice, which moves between drawing, assemblage, happenings and collective actions.

Clad in a black balaclava and fetish climbing wear, she abseils from buildings before entering the stage. For the first performance in New York City, she was invited by Kyp Malone of TV on the Radio to perform at his club Francis Kite Club in Alphabet City, NYC and since has continued to make a name for herself hanging off façades, singing, dancing and mopping the floor together with her performance collaborators Miss Philip a.k.a. Philip Errico and Michael Tapper at Pianos NYC, Kottbusser Tor and Genezarethkirche Berlin or the Villa Stuck Museum in Munich.

The album was produced in Munich and New York in 2025 in collaboration with her brother Nick McCarthy (Franz Ferdinand) and Anton Kaun (Rumpeln). What started as a quick improv turned into a high-energy 4-hour session of the siblings playing manic ball with beats, bass, guitars and vocals resulting in what laid the basis to this album. In the weeks following, Anna McCarthy, who is known for her cut-up production style, reminiscent of albums such as White Noise or Flying Lotus, continued to develop the vocals, performance and music by mixing in an amalgam of field recordings with her narrative spoken word, including sounds of protests, dollar stores or ice-cream trucks, as well as collaborating with the noise artist Rumpeln for the last two tracks of the album.

McCarthy is also known as the lyricist and singer of What Are People For? (debut 2022 on Alien Transistor) with its dystopic dance music candy-cane shows and equally humorously critical tongue-in-cheek bangers such as Bring back the Dirt, Drones or Partytime. Anna McCarthy's spoken word, social urgency and enthusiasm to experiment across mediums is comparable to other contemporaries such as Moor Mother, Miho Hatori, Gonjasufi, Tricky, or Cibo Matto.

The name itself is telling. Rubbermaidxxx evokes elasticity, artificiality, domestic labour and the commercial world of cleaning and garbage. It suggests a body capable of stretching, absorbing filth and cleaning up after society – only to revolt against the role it has been assigned.

Rubbermaidxxx is a master of deception, juggling fact and fiction as a reflection of our times – a diamond thief, a protester, or even responsible for the Louvre heist? This album invites the listener and viewer in, playfully dismantling hierarchies and power structures as she goes through a hopeful amalgam of dance, protest & love songs.

Severed Heads reattach themselves to Dark Entries for an expanded reissue of their 1991 opus Cuisine (With Piscatorial). As originary Aussie industrial legends – although founder Tom Ellard would balk at being branded as such – Severed Heads shaped the continental subcultural sound with their kitchen electronics, chaotic tape loops, and infectious nursery-rhyme-esque melodies. Cuisine (With Piscatorial) was the long-running project’s ninth album, and is a commentary on the state of music. Ellard explains: “The whole food joke is really about what music's about and how disposable it is; people have records like they have cups of coffee.” The album also presents a turn away from the dancefloor formalism of the era, which Ellard dismissed as already sufficiently explored. Cuisine brings us punchy pop kernels of the prime Heads variety, all clocking in around three minutes. Cuts like “Pilot in Hell” and “Ugly Twenties” rank among the band’s best through their deadly skewering of synth pop tropes. But the album also offers us a Piscatorial section, where Ellard felt free to “go fishing for ideas.” Here we get a taste of the project’s demented cut-up sensibilities, like on the “Quest for Oom Pa Pa” suite, where vintage jazz records are collaged into an angular nightmare. This double-LP reissue is the first time that Cuisine (With Piscatorial) will appear on vinyl, with a previously unreleased early version of “Seven of Oceans.” Also included is a 6-page booklet with liner notes, lyrics, and press clippings.

This November, Brownswood Recordings will release Mek Do & Mend, the debut album from self-taught producer, multi-instrumentalist, composer and artist Wonky Logic. Although his name may not yet be familiar to everyone, Wonky Logic (AKA Dwayne Kilvington) has spent the past two decades quietly becoming one of the UK's most respected musical collaborators. His career has moved comfortably between London's jazz, electronic and contemporary music scenes, performing and recording with artists including Nala Sinephro, Yussef Dayes, Nightmares On Wax, Shabaka Hutchings and Emma-Jean Thackray. Alongside his work as a producer and composer, he's been musical director for projects with Eddie Chacon, John Carroll Kirby and I.G Culture's LCSM, scored the feature documentary Zandra With A Zed, contributed music to A24's The Smashing Machine, and continues to lead music workshops with young people, refugees and people experiencing incarceration.

Far more than a collection of compositions, Mek Do & Mend is a deeply personal reflection on the people, places and experiences that have shaped Kilvington throughout his life. It's the story of growing up on a Leeds council estate, where music became both a creative outlet and a way of understanding the world. Making music often meant working with whatever was available: a second-hand keyboard, a makeshift studio desk or ageing equipment that simply had to last a little longer. The title itself came from a conversation with his mother, capturing the resourcefulness that defined his upbringing and continued into the making of the album itself, which was written and produced to a tight deadline around touring, family life and Kilvington's work as a musician and educator.

Built from material spanning more than fifteen years, Mek Do & Mend brings together some of Wonky Logic's earliest compositions alongside brand new pieces written during the making of the record itself. Childhood ideas sit alongside music conceived only months before recording, creating an album that draws together a lifetime of writing rather than documenting a single moment. Running throughout are voice notes from family members, teachers, friends, mentors and collaborators—not simply as interludes, but as a reminder that no creative life is ever self-made. Rather than telling his own story outright, Kilvington invites listeners to discover him through the people who've shaped him: an aunt remembering him playing in church as a child, lifelong friends recalling early experiments making beats together, fellow musicians from different stages of his career and his mother describing him in her own words. Together they reveal the invisible network of relationships, philosophies, communities and experiences behind the music. "The album exists somewhere between being a biography and an autobiography," says Dwayne. "The biography is in the voice notes and how other people see me. The autobiography is in the music."

That same philosophy extends to the musicians who appear on the record. Every contributor has played a meaningful role in Wonky Logic's life beyond the studio. Long-time collaborator Luke Wynter, Steam Down drummer Benji Appiah, partner Vanessa Rani, Jonathan Enser, Joe Bristow, Brother Portrait and Nubiya Imani all feature not simply because of their musicianship, but because they form part of the album's story.

Across its fourteen tracks, Mek Do & Mend moves effortlessly between dynamic jazz arrangements, pulsating broken rhythms, delicate, twinkling piano passages, interstellar synth textures and elegant brass lines. Album opener and first single 'Strange Attractor' begins with a shimmering introduction before unfolding into an exhilarating surge of rhythm and momentum. Named after the mathematical concept of the same name, it serves as the conceptual point of origin for the album. Written when Kilvington was just seventeen, the composition reflects the idea that even the most unpredictable lives are guided by hidden patterns that often only become visible with time. Second single 'A Thousand Hands' features the unmistakable vocal tones of Brother Portrait, whose cerebral lyricism drifts over a low-slung, constantly shifting groove as woozy synth lines ebb and flow overhead. At its heart, the track celebrates the family, friends, mentors and collaborators whose often unseen influence shapes who we become, echoing the album's belief that every achievement is, in some way, a collective one. LP focus track 'BAME (Beyond All Marginalised Expectations)' is a lush, spiralling composition, brimming with both emotion and resolve. Reclaiming an acronym long imposed on racialised communities in the UK, the piece transforms it into a statement of possibility rather than limitation: a defiant rejection of stereotypes and a refusal to let identity be defined by other people's expectations.

The album itself only exists because other people believed in it. Isabel Gracefield made the RAK sessions possible, Rick David brought the record together with his characteristically thoughtful mix, and Gilles Peterson committed to releasing it on Brownswood before hearing any of the music. Away from the stage, Kilvington works with the charity Finding Rhythms, writing and producing original records with people experiencing incarceration, while also leading workshops with Arts Train and Dovetail Orchestra.

Recorded live in a single day in Studio One at RAK, Mek Do & Mend was mixed by Rick David through an analogue Cadac console before being mastered by Stuart Hawkes at Metropolis. The aim wasn't nostalgia or audiophile perfection, but to create a record people could return to throughout their lives, discovering something new with each listen.

As Dwayne puts it: "I don't want this body of work to be reduced to a jazz record. It's more like a novel about life told through music."

Maryos Syawish (b. 1993, Iraq) is a Chaldean Iraqi artist and musician based in Naarm/Melbourne working fluidly across visual art, sound and curatorial practice. His creative work spans more than 15 years and is defined by a lawless, unorthodox approach that resists traditional genre boundaries.
His Research Records debut is an introspective and meandering exploration of place, legacy and personal history. It’s a marked change of pace for the Melbourne-based producer, who has carved his name into the Australian underground as one half of Sleep D and Butter Sessions Records, but his first full length under his own name feels like an extension rather than a departure from what those attuned to his productions will already know.

Qurmami – which translates to “my roots” – functions as an audio collage that bridges the artist’s dual experiences of growing up in Australia and his heritage as a Chaldean Assyrian. Developed over the course of eight years, the record is anchored by field recordings captured during a pivotal trip to Iraq which are sewn into lush ambient electronics over two sides.

Over 42 minutes the production swells and grows; a delicate and mind-transporting beginning gives way to a more rhythmic, body-moving tail end, drawing subtle influences from dub, ambient, and traditional music from the Northern Iraq region along the way. Syawish’s contemporary, friend and fellow Research artist Khaled Kurbeh features, as does Melbourne-based cellist Abby Sundborn, while Sarah Ujmaia – Maryos’ cousin – contributed the album art and a familial through line that rounds out a cohesive, evocative exploration of identity, memory and the spaces that shape who we are.

Gavin Belton's move back to the UK after years in New Zealand brought him back into the fold with old Littlemen cohort Steve Lee. They played a few gigs together then got back in the studio for the first time in 15 years. Belton's use of the Korg Opsix is what gives these deft deep house cuts their character while Lee adds the vocal lines to 'People Are You Ready' for a ghostly, shadowy, low-lit sound. LA-based DJ, producer and HAWT promoter Mikey V steps up on the flip for the lithe dub house of 'Smooth' while Giom pulls it into darker territory that echoes the old Murk sound. Lee rounds things out with a remix of the A-side that has a persuasive late night bump.

Teemon and Poomba go looking for light in the darkness on their new EP “Hopeless.” The Madrid duo have a knack for dragging nostalgic sounds into the present, and this release is no exception. With equal parts Hi-NRG euphoria and dark disco dread, the four tracks feel like a glitchy transmission beamed in from another decade, or perhaps another galaxy…

The title track, “Hopeless,” sends us hurtling down a wormhole. Powered by a cavernous bass, we are propelled through kick drums, warp effects and sparkly synths, while a distant voice calls at us through the darkness.

Iranian producer Amirali takes “Hopeless” somewhere a little lighter with his remix, easing the intensity down before letting it slowly climb again. His version foregrounds the track’s earworm synth line and builds on it, layering and expanding on the vocal line until it sounds celestial. Amirali’s skills as a classically trained pianist feel reflective here in his compositional approach.

If “Hopeless” is the wormhole down, then “Moon Connections” is what’s waiting on the other side. The track leans heavily into sharp, percussive sounds that form a grounding contrast to the high synths that glitter above. With a spoken word line that sounds like it’s being transmitted through a space-age radio and enough deep warp effects to get lost in, this B side sends us to the stars.

Closing things out, the Eagles & Butterflies remix of Moon Connections brings us down to earth. Chill, deep-house adjacent and with a hint of Daft Punk in its DNA, it wraps a heavily filtered guitar line around a softened groove built for the comedown – the sound of the sun coming up on the last people left on the floor.

Jennifer Touch release her next LP 'Aging at Airports' on Fabrika Records. The idea for the record title came before the music even existed as Touch was spending an increasing amount of time in airports while touring. In her own words: "It felt like I waste a large part of my life waiting for the next show to come, to entertain and perform my music and build timeless moments with others. This waiting, the slowly ticking time at the gate, was in complete contrast to what I want to do as an artist: to be in flux, to create things that will last forever. The airport, as a busy hub, was like a symbol of this ambivalence. And a reminder: every second, whether waiting or on the move, I have to accept that I am fading, that my creative power, my face, and my body are fading. As a (performing) artist, everything feels like a strange contrast. While you want to stay true to yourself and speak authentically from the soul, you are also expected to appear forever young, and powerful. Artists are often wanted to distract people, but creating this art forces me to confront my own transience. I feel the struggle to fit into this powerful artificial framework that the world has set and the desire to break free from it."

FatCat was recorded in a single session-live, with all four musicians together in the same place. What you hear on the record isn't a polished production, but a one-of-a-kind recording of four people playing at the same time in the same room.
This is not a nostalgic gesture. It's a stance. As music is increasingly understood as the output of a prompt, the question of what actually makes music becomes urgent again. Not flawless, efficient production, but the imperfect moment and its context. Not the result, but the process in which four people listen to each other, react to each other, misjudge, and find one another. This fallibility - the hesitation before an entrance, the slight pull in the timing, the glance between musicians that signals a turn - is not a weakness but the substance itself. It cannot be synthesized, because it isn't a data point but a lived relationship: between the instruments, between the people, between their shared history and what emerges new in this one take. The album is thus also a statement on the question of where, in the age of generative music, authorship and art can still be located: not in the result alone, but in the shared risk taken in creating it.
"The question was always: how do I bring my work as a producer and beatmaker onto the stage? How can something that usually happens alone behind closed studio doors become a live experience?" With the album FatCat, Sepalot pursues this question to its logical conclusion: what began as a live performance now becomes the recording itself - the studio becomes a stage for a day, and the stage becomes the definitive version of the album.
The love for electronic music remains, the raw pressure of hip hop is still palpable - and yet everything on FatCat sounds like a fresh start, captured in the very breath in which it was played.
On stage as in the studio, the four characters fit together like a puzzle. Sepalot's signature as producer and mastermind is unmistakable. On drums, Fabian Füss, longtime partner behind the kit and the voice that makes Sepalot's radio hit "Rainbows" so unforgettable. On bass, Robin Jermer. On trumpet, Matthias Lindermayr, multiple award-winning jazz virtuoso with his own albums on Enja Records. And then there's Sepalot himself, who turns it all into more than just the sum of its parts.
The eclectic beats, the pulsing bass, Sepalot's passion for atmospheric sound design - all of it remains, now joined by an element of jazz and captured in its most immediate, unpolished form. The album shows what four people in one room are capable of: a sound born of shared experience, and precisely for that reason, unique.

Straddling an intriguing intersection of Drum & Bass, Jazz, Fusion and unidentifiable electronica, ‘You Won't Find Your Way From Here’ is the debut album from Jhauk.

An extremely talented multi-instrumentalist from Sheffield, UK, Jhauk came to Blu Mar Ten’s attention when, in 2017, he created a wild prog-rock inflected remix of BMT’s track ‘Titans’
Further conversations with Jhauk revealed the depth of his unorthodox approach to electronic music and unearthed a treasure trove of production skills, culminating in the album before you.

Oscillating between the late-night, moody calm of late 50s Miles Davis, John Coltrane & Bill Evans, the riotous 70s instrumentation of Weather Report, the modern cool stylings of Matthew Halsall and the gritty edges of modern D&B production, it’s scarcely believable that this collection of tracks came from one person working alone in their studio. With tempos and time signatures skittering all over the place, Jhauk uses genres as catalysts rather than containers, he finds the interesting stuff in the hinterlands of their structural relationships and tensions. 

Talking about the album, Jhauk has strong opinions:

“Drum & Bass emerged as club music, and club music comes with its own logic. Specific structures, specific build-ups, a formula that supports that context. 
That's fair enough, but almost 40 years later, why is 99% of D&B still made the exact same way when 99% of the time it's never heard in a club? The same structure, the same formula, barely any development beyond the core idea. Tracks where you can hear 10 seconds of the drop and know almost beat-for-beat how the next 5 minutes sound. No real musical depth or exploration. People regurgitating the same material ad-nauseum but never actually saying anything for themselves. 
This period of composition for me was about taking what I love about D&B, the rhythmic energy and potential for creative freedom it presents and really stretching it to its limits. Of taking drum & bass as a starting point and seeing where it ends up without an idea of what that destination might be. Most people would probably never call a lot of the results D&B, but that's okay because it was never the point.”

 
Dripping with melancholy, euphoria, longing and pure urgency ‘You Won't Find Your Way From Here’ is unlike anything else you’ll hear this year. The sound of an artist entirely unconcerned with impressing peers or performing on ‘socials’; you're hearing a true musician at work, expressing ideas through the skill of his hands, mind and ears. The album’s secrets aren’t revealed with a single play-through, but bears (or even requires) multiple listens to expose its layers.
In previous times, they called this ‘art'.

Straddling an intriguing intersection of Drum & Bass, Jazz, Fusion and unidentifiable electronica, ‘You Won't Find Your Way From Here’ is the debut album from Jhauk.

An extremely talented multi-instrumentalist from Sheffield, UK, Jhauk came to Blu Mar Ten’s attention when, in 2017, he created a wild prog-rock inflected remix of BMT’s track ‘Titans’
Further conversations with Jhauk revealed the depth of his unorthodox approach to electronic music and unearthed a treasure trove of production skills, culminating in the album before you.

Oscillating between the late-night, moody calm of late 50s Miles Davis, John Coltrane & Bill Evans, the riotous 70s instrumentation of Weather Report, the modern cool stylings of Matthew Halsall and the gritty edges of modern D&B production, it’s scarcely believable that this collection of tracks came from one person working alone in their studio. With tempos and time signatures skittering all over the place, Jhauk uses genres as catalysts rather than containers, he finds the interesting stuff in the hinterlands of their structural relationships and tensions. 

Talking about the album, Jhauk has strong opinions:

“Drum & Bass emerged as club music, and club music comes with its own logic. Specific structures, specific build-ups, a formula that supports that context. 
That's fair enough, but almost 40 years later, why is 99% of D&B still made the exact same way when 99% of the time it's never heard in a club? The same structure, the same formula, barely any development beyond the core idea. Tracks where you can hear 10 seconds of the drop and know almost beat-for-beat how the next 5 minutes sound. No real musical depth or exploration. People regurgitating the same material ad-nauseum but never actually saying anything for themselves. 
This period of composition for me was about taking what I love about D&B, the rhythmic energy and potential for creative freedom it presents and really stretching it to its limits. Of taking drum & bass as a starting point and seeing where it ends up without an idea of what that destination might be. Most people would probably never call a lot of the results D&B, but that's okay because it was never the point.”

 
Dripping with melancholy, euphoria, longing and pure urgency ‘You Won't Find Your Way From Here’ is unlike anything else you’ll hear this year. The sound of an artist entirely unconcerned with impressing peers or performing on ‘socials’; you're hearing a true musician at work, expressing ideas through the skill of his hands, mind and ears. The album’s secrets aren’t revealed with a single play-through, but bears (or even requires) multiple listens to expose its layers.
In previous times, they called this ‘art'.