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It seems almost inevitable that at some stage Blue Matter and The Green Ray would be working together, and we’re delighted to say that this is now about to happen. When Blue Matter co-boss, Nick Saloman, was living in Walthamstow, he sat in with The Green Ray many times at the late-lamented Plough Inn on Wood Street (now a mini-supermarket). In more recent times Nick’s band, The Bevis Frond has played live with them on several occasions, and without wishing to disrespect any former members, the current Green Ray line-up sounds as good as they’ve ever sounded, if not, dare we say, even better than before. The Green Ray was originally assembled in the mid-90s by Ken Whaley & Richard Treece, two key members of Walthamstow legends, Help Yourself. During the last 30 years or so, they have released 7 albums and one 12” single.

Sadly, the line-up has changed quite frequently due to the passing of several of their number. Ken & Richard passed away some years ago, and more recently bassist Jeff Gibbs departed this world. However, now under the all-seeing eye of guitarist Simon Whaley, the current line-up is continuing to fly the East London freak flag high. Not long ago Simon asked us if Blue Matter would like to issue their latest offering, and we came back with a resounding “yes please”. ‘Orchard House’ is a superb album, full of great playing and great songs. There are shades of Mighty Baby and Help Yourself (at their trippiest), plus a West Coast atmosphere which put us in mind of Quicksilver and The Grateful Dead. It’s taken some time to happen, but at last Blue Matter & The Green Ray have come together to issue an unmissable album. So don’t miss it.

Silicon Scally and Fleck E.S.C. need no introduction at this stage. Both artists are veterans not just of Sheffield's Central Processing Unit label but of modern electro as a whole, with the pair having decades of skin in the game at this point. Their new release, a four-track EP entitledSlipwhere Silicon Scally handles the first half and Fleck E.S.C. the second, carries itself with the adventurous confidence of a record made by masters of their craft.

Slipopener 'Phased Array' is exactly the kind of top quality machine-funk tackle you'd expect from this meeting of minds. The beat programming is deliciously tactile from the off, hissing and clanking like machinery in an old Detroit factory. The feel of 'Phased Array' is altered, though, when the chords come in, a series of alternating floating sounds which give the track an altogether eerier feel. When all of this is coupled with the otherworldly synth blurts that periodically force their way to the front of the track, the overall effect is a piece of real depth assembled by an expert practitioner.

'Phased Array' is followed up by 'Stax', another brilliantly propulsive number. Here we find the drum beat - one which is a little reminiscent of that Kraftwerk tune about the numbers, no less - once more offset by some decidedly more shadowy synth work, all while arpeggiated keyboard licks work against an intricate web of basslines, chords and unidentifiable flying synth tones.

Fleck E.S.C. opens theSlipB-side with 'Good Ride', a number where the nudge-wink title is borne out by a track built around looped snippets of sighing vocals. That said, with a bassline that sounds like a blurting old landline telephone, a ghoulish synth lead and all manner of motion-sick breakdowns, the 'ride' in question could just as well be aWipeout-style whizz through hyperspace as anything more suggestive. 'Good Ride' also sets itself apart from the other joints here by showing off a swaying halftime breakdown.

'Intox Remedy',Slip's closer, wraps the EP in a manner which continues some of the trends of the record's earlier tracks - richly tuneful chords, precision-engineered broken beat drum programming and a wide palette of delightfully unusual synth tones are all present and correct. However, there is also something about the chords here which pares back the eeriness of previous joints for a bit more of a wide-eyed, stargazing feel, and as such 'Intox Remedy' sees the record out by placing the listener firmly back in the cosmos.

Tough enough for the dancefloor and intricate enough for home listening, theSlipEP is a fabulous collaboration from two of the most respected voices in the electro game.

"Invaders Must Die" is The Prodigy"s 5th album, and is 40 minutes of having your head battered by future nostalgia, serotonin levels twisted by feel-good horrorcore and your synapses snapped by whiplash attitude. It"s the sound of The Prodigy mixing up genres, contorting the past and rewiring the future, ram-raiding through the tranquility of music"s status quo like a blot on the landscape of England"s dreaming. The first thing you notice about "Invaders Must Die" is how complete it sounds, a consistent collection of bangers all firing from the same cannon. The next thing you notice about "Invaders Must Die" is just how melodic it is. Not just melody in the vocal sense but in the heyday-of-hardcore keyboard-hookline sense. Yes, if The Prodigy have learned anything from the hugely successful live shows it was that those old skool rave anthems still rock hard - and are every bit as iconic to their generation as punk was to the nation"s forty-somethings. So "Invaders Must Die" is awash with references to the free party generation, thundering along like the mother of all E-rushes, all hairs tingling, spine jumping and lips buzzing. But not a retroactive arms-in-the-air, water-sharing nostalgia trip, but a set fuelled by punk"s saliva-dripping rabid snarl. "Invaders" also features Dave Grohl drumming on "Run With The Wolves".

LA-based producer Real Bad Man and LA musician Genevieve Artadi announce their new collaborative album Everything Is Under Control, out October 3rd via the producer’s own Real Bad Man Records. Alongside the announcement, the duo are sharing two new singles from the forthcoming album, “Don’t Gotta Think About U” and “Little Claws”. The former is an electro pop banger that propels Artadi’s intoxicating vocals to the forefront and arrives with an accompanying visual. With Everything Is Under Control, Real Bad Man is proving his versatility as a producer, crafting intricate and lively electronic-forward foundations for an old friend in Genevieve to explore an eclectic, funky approach to her vocals.

Speaking about the single, Artadi says, "'Don’t Gotta Think About U' is about a person celebrating the explosion of her most recent unhealthy romantic relationship. Her spitefulness and delusion of freedom indicate she’s still inside the pattern she hasn’t yet realized she keeps signing herself up for. The sound is melancholic pop, the thread that has always tied Adam and me together despite our musical differences."

"I love juxtaposing dense drums and a very pretty voice," Real Bad Man says of collaborating with Artadi. "That’s what 'Don’t Wanna Think About U' is. We’re also trying to make something catchy at the same time, that’s what I’ve always been drawn to musically is blending genres and moods and get them to work together. As well as pulling Genevieve away from what she does with Knower and her solo stuff.

Real Bad Man’s collaboration with Artadi is a radical shift in approach for the producer, whose previous full-length projects this year were rooted in the distinct strain of underground hip-hop that he’s amassed an extensive catalog in. Everything Is Under Control marks an entirely different, and unpredictable, sonic approach for the duo, embracing experimentation and synth-led electronica that’s reminiscent of Artadi’s work as part with Pollyn (her former band with Adam/Real Bad Man) as well as current duo KNOWER with Louis Cole. Real Bad Man’s latest project extends his prolific run of collaborations this year, embarking in a new genre and sound entirely after releasing full-length projects with ZelooperZ (Dear Psilocybin), Boldly James (Conversational Pieces) and Willie The Kid (Midnight) in the first half of 2025.

Known for her complex, yet playful writing style, Genevieve Artadi has made a name for herself through four solo albums that stretch the gambit of jazz, dream pop and dance music. The last three albums were released on iconic label Brainfeeder Records and the fourth (Another Leaf) was made as part of her being a composer-in-residence with Sweden’s Norrbotten Big Band. She’s also been an accomplished collaborator with her bands Expensive Magnets, Pollyn and KNOWER, and performing and recording with the likes of Thundercat and Snarky Puppy.

Check out “Don’t Gotta Think About U” and “Little Claws” above, see below for more details on Everything Is Under Control and stay tuned for more from Real Bad Man coming soon.

There’s an alternate reality where everyone makes a living wage and the cleanest buses you’ve ever seen arrive every other minute. Where the most intense songs are about confessing your love to a crush at the apple orchard, and where gentle feelings and chaotic energy are inseparable best friends. This is the timeline where Cootie Catcher is right at home. This Toronto based four-piece exudes both vulnerability and unbridled excitement, creating a sound that hypercharges the open-hearted tenderness of twee pop with spiraling synths and giddy electronics. New album Something We All Got is the clearest and most vibrant reading of Cootie Catcher’s vision yet, with songs of sweetness, nervousness, and expectancy that beam out unguarded.
After releasing music made primarily in basement recording environments, Something We All Got is the band’s first flirtation with studio recording. The edges are still sharp, however, with some parts assembled from time-honored lo-fi methods and fun, personally-sourced samples seeping into the production. The sound is explosive and upbeat, with euphoric guitars, bubbly synth lines, speedy drums both played and programmed, and all other manner of sound constantly colliding. Cootie Catcher has three songwriters, Sophia Chavez, Anita Fowl, and Nolan Jakupovski, all of whom have distinctive voices but still manage to overlap in their writing on shared concerns like navigating the lines of romantic and platonic relationships, their city’s social scenes, and struggles in both the microcosmic experience of playing in a band and the zoomed-out challenges of living through late-stage capitalism.
Joy still touches every surface of Something We All Got. “Quarter Note Rock” bounces around the room in a fit of jangling guitar chords, scratched samples, and interplay between breakbeat loops and somersaulting live drums. It’s a blast of positivity even with lyrics about how disappointing it can be to meet your heroes. A smiling electro pop instrumental supports lyrics about having to step painfully away from an almost realized love on “Gingham Dress,” a song that subverts themes of domesticity as a backdrop for the dashed wilt of hopeless devotion.
Cootie Catcher rolls down hills and jumps through flaming hoops throughout Something We All Got without ever dumbing down the visceral emotions that drive these songs. There’s a palpable tension between the band’s exhilarating sonics and the raw, often uneasy sentiments expressed, but it’s an integral part of what makes them unique. Rather than hide behind the kind of calculated vagueness that plagues so much of the indie rock landscape in the time of cursed algorithms, Cootie Catcher runs full-speed toward every confusion and excitement, fearlessly direct and embracing the reality they’re in.

Midway through Martin Luther King, Jr's historic speech at the 1963 March on Washington, a voice rang out from behind him: "Tell them about the dream, Martin!" That voice belonged to Mahalia Jackson, King's close friend and one of the most revered gospel singers of the 20th century - Glorious Mahalia, a visionary tribute to Jackson's life by the internationally renowned Kronos Quartet, uses that moment as a springboard to explore the depth of Jackson's musical craft and its impact on the Civil Rights Movement, including her relationship with Clarence Jones and Studs Terkel, other luminaries of the time

Chris Acker’s latest collection of songs, Famous Lunch, is in his words, a “growing pains album.” When writing the record, the New Orleans' based folk musician found himself hunting for a voice that wasn’t just an imitation of the one he’d been using on the last 30 songs he’d made. “At the same time, I worked hard to find a certain voice for myself over the previous 3 records and I didn’t want to abandon that.”

While the album finds him continuing to transcribe life’s fleeting and provocative banalities with refreshing grace, the songs on Famous Lunch are intentionally more absurd, stylizing his lyricism as both poetic and disarming simultaneously— commencing with “Sh*t Surprise”—an earworm with a vernacular that stays true to its title. Inspired by George Saunders and Sasha Pearl (and wanting to make a song that sounds like Eagles saying the word “sh*t” over and over), “Sh*t Surprise” is the most Chris Acker song possible, in that its earnestness arrives in spades and comes varnished with a one-of-a-kind, spectacular gnarliness. “We’d match our breath in the upstairs room and we’d hold together ‘til I smelled like you,” Acker sings, before nose-diving into that unforgettable chorus about stepping in a smelly, disgusting pile of sh*t.

More than anything else, Famous Lunch finds Chris Acker at his most sentimental and grateful, as he sings about Bunn coffee machines, gas pumps smelling like “the underside of a fingernail” in August, “10-inching” bread, stealing country club lawn-mower motors, father-son fables, impatient buffet lines, and a broom that “hasn’t been used since the last time I used it.” Acker’s eye for detail remains, and his lexicon includes phrasings that spin out like a hypnotic wash cycle. Seeing the world through his eyes, language remains something worth falling into—growing pains and all.

Chris Liebing's first full solo techno LP, 'Evolver' is released on 27th March 2026, via his own CLR imprint. The German techno don's LP features a host of collaborators across music, images, and artwork. Luke Slater, Charlotte De Witte, Speedy J, The Advent, Terence Fixmer, Pascal Gabriel, Daniel Miller contribute to the music, while long-time collaborators Studio Bergfors deliver design, and legendary photographer Anton Corbijn shot Liebing for the project.

The Evolver LP is the sum total of Chris Liebing's three decades at the beating heart of techno. It's the record only someone whose first break as a techno DJ was playing five hours at Sven Väth's infamous Omen in Frankfurt - and who has ridden out every twist and turn of life and subcultures since, while remaining rooted in the true school, dark, sweaty techno sweat pits of the world - could have made. It's the result of deep introspection, but it's about utter immediacy. It's the sound of someone previously driven along by compulsion and happenstance at last finding the confidence to be utterly intentional about their practice, allowing them to take the most classic, familiar, proven elements from the past and render them completely new.

Evolver is also Liebing's first completely solo album. There are collaborations, yes: with old friends from the OG techno generation, Luke Slater, Speedy J, and The Advent, all on uncompromising form, and with new generation figurehead Charlotte De Witte, who provides a thrilling narration of total surrender to the moment on acid clarion call "Symphonie des Seins". But unlike all Liebing's albums to date, there's no co-pilot. Every structure, every mixdown, every choice serves his singular vision of how his untold immersion in the surging currents of the world's greatest clubs should sound. The elements are all those forged in the white heat of Omen and Tresor in the mid 90s - brutal repetition, titanium kick drums, industrial atmospherics, but also dark rave euphoria, ever present surging acid lines just on the cusp of trance, and just enough human voices to remind you of bodies on the dance floor - but rendered with all the extraordinary accumulated skill and technological developments since then.

It's Chris's vision entirely, his musings on sound, technology, and life birthing tracks like "Roy Batty." Inspired by thoughts of AI becoming sentient and hungering for more life like Rutger Hauer's titular Blade Runner character, it was one of the first tracks to emerge and a foundation stone for the album. And in pursuit of that vision, it's built like a "proper album". The anticipation and menace of intro "Unfold" tip over into the glowing hot high drama psychedelia of "Symphonie…" then the breathless headlong rush of The Advent collab and on through an unfolding narrative that goes deep, goes dark, opens out into grand vistas, takes strange turns before finally landing on the alien landscape of… well… "Endtrack".

Not everything is pummelling on Evolver - the dazzling title track feels like you've been welcomed into the courtly dance of a higher dimension civilisation, and the audacious Speedy J collab "Shaping Frequencies" is a beatless flow that tests the boundaries between signal and noise. But for all its complexity, conceptualism, and stylistic branching out, every last part unmistakably powered by that dark techno-cavern energy above all else. All of it positively radiates the qualities of Liebing's greatest work and sets to date - but somehow even more so than before. Whether you're listening for aesthetic inspiration, cerebral stimulation or just that raw physical power, this album will sweep you up into its momentum and won't let go of you until it's done.

The album opens with the ominous guitar-driven Hollow Sky, accompanied by its haunting music video's verdant vistas. The song, with Iceglass ghostly vocals, shimmers with that sounds like an Omnichord flittering like sonic firefly lights and brooding bass. This perfectly scores the less traveled wanderings through the dark wooden path of Dante's perdition, leading to the titular well that graces the album cover. The Crater opens with an unsettling riff and bass, with low, repetitive frequencies on the synth create a sense of unease. Here, Iceglass recounts a fatalistic requiem for the king of romance that is cataclysmic and leaves a scar upon the earth. With Fall Industrial Wall, once again, Iceglass channels a silky and Nico-like emotive deadpan; against a dirgelike melody backed by minimal synth, bass, and drum. Almost medieval and plaintive, with its folk droning horns, deep and shallow in their resonance. This song is anachronistic, setting the scene of ruins centuries-old with crumbling edifices strewn about like memories lost in time. With the poetic lyrics of The Chamber do we find the eponymous abyss. Here, dualities are laid bare; besides love, there is heartbreak, and without this sorrow, what meaning would there be to love if one knows not what it is to lose? This song encapsulates the idea that love is heartbreak, and love lost is reaching the deepest chamber of the heart. This is carried through a sombre horn, minimalist drum machine, and deliberate bassline overlaid with Iceglass german and english lyrics. The Well is led in with a softly distorted bassline overlaid with eerie banshee howls give way to Iceglass otherworld vocal refrain, echoing through time as if emanating from a hole in the ground, and encircling that hole is a garden of woe and despair. The sinfully seductive song The Moor features a captivating SAX SOLO courtesy of Perseas; a welcome shift in tone, juxtaposed well with the intensity of Iceglass tenebrous vocal purr. This hitherto unexplored foray into dark sensuality takes the song into sordid mid 80s territory, bringing to mind a dusky drive along a serpentine road, with equally haunting instrumentations straddling time with icy fire. Broken Characters is an acoustic folk interlude featuring Selofan's Dimitris Pavlidis on guitar. Here we find a more gentle approach with its earnest and romantic lyrics. The song's melodic hook is a soft caress along with the forlorn horn elements highlighting Iceglass at her most Nico-sounding vocal yet, singing the sorrowful truth that most artists are indeed broken characters. Chimerical opens with dirgelike synth organs. The chill of winter has befallen the lamentations sung by Iceglass carried by haunting chord progressions and minimal percussion, plaintively beseeching the song's subject to remain elusive, idealistic, and a dreamer. After an album highlighting more Jill than Jack, our male protagonist finally makes his ascent in the sonorous and breathtaking Dark Hill, a masterful march of sweeping synth horns, and trepidatious drum machine with William Maybelline's bellowing voice cracking like thunder, rattling the atmosphere like his heart against his ribs. Spirals swirls in a cautionary knell of cathedral-esque droning synth dirge, with Icarian lyrics shining like a sombre ray of hope; like the sun's rays creeping into the darkest of places. The song, minimalist in its tight percussion, echoes with the solace of Larissa Iceglass vocal litany; invoking elements of the supernatural, almost like a Casio preset sequenced to the beating of an angel's wings.

Emerging from the vivid chaos of Detroit’s underground, ZelooperZ returns with Dali Ain’t Dead — a surreal yet deeply grounded statement from one of rap’s most singular voices. Following his recent collaborative exploration Dear Psilocybin (with Real Bad Man) — which found him moving through a “stream of psychosis” just before sobriety. (Pitchfork) — ZelooperZ enters this new chapter not simply as the same intricate-flows rapper, but as a rising cult-figure in underground hip-hop who’s forged an identity both enigmatic and quietly unstoppable.

On Dali Ain’t Dead, ZelooperZ channels the spirit of the surreal — the album’s title a nod to the iconic surrealist artist Salvador Dalí — as he reframes his world post-substance, post-chaos, yet still dripping with vivid imagination. Reviews highlight that the album finds him in a more focused mode: one critic writes that “ZelooperZ seems to have adopted a similar outlook to Dalí… embracing sobriety and allowing his art to exist as the psychotropic fuel for his mind.” (Album of the Year) Production (courtesy of Dilip) is inventive and cohesive, blending experimental hip-hop, trap, cloud-rap and drumless textures to mirror Ze’s newly clear-eyed vantage point and trademark eccentricity. (Legends Will Never Die)

Tracks like “Mona Lisa Left Eye” and “Push Me Around” (featuring Zack Fox) carry Z’s jagged humor and restless energy, while deeper cuts like “Shrooms” and “Take Me I’m Drugs” trace his evolving relationship with psychedelia and the legacy of his past. (Legends Will Never Die) In doing so, the record positions itself as the sound of a freak-icon in transition — still wild, still weird, but sharpened, matured, operating with a purpose and increasingly commanding the attention of fans who relish the underground unusual.

ZelooperZ’s trajectory continues to rise. From his roots in the Bruiser Brigade collective in Detroit to the present moment as a cult figure whose every release feels like a mission statement, Dali Ain’t Dead confirms that he’s no longer just the oddball off-to-the-side: he’s the weirdo that others are quietly watching. This album isn’t just for the longtime disciples of his left-field aesthetic — it’s an invitation to anyone curious about hip-hop bending, breaking, and rebuilding itself from the fringes inward.

‘Warriors Of The Sea’ is the name of DORO Pesch's special release, with which the Metal Queen is shortening the wait for a new studio album for her numerous fans.

‘Warriors Of The Sea’ is now available as petrol with white and black marbled vinyl. The idea for this special release came about as a result of the two sold-out ‘Metal Queen Metal Cruises’, which were a huge hit with fans at the end of May/beginning of June and – in addition to a third cruise (06.06.26) – simply left them wanting more music.

The title track of the album was written by DORO especially as an anthem for the cruise and immediately became an absolute fan favourite at summer festivals worldwide.

The remaining nine tracks are a hand-picked selection by DORO on the themes of ‘Warriors’ and ‘Cruise’. All of them are rarities and for fans, collectors and metal pirates.

Salix is a bold new departure for modular synthesist Loula Yorke, seen here using an antique reed organ to explore the ancient roots of willow trees in magic, myth and medicine, as well as inviting another musician into her recording studio for the first time, clarinettist Charlotte Jolly.

The EP forms a sonic archive of a singular instrument: an antique free reed organ left behind by a previous encumbent of Asylum Studios, (the artists' co-operative in Suffolk where Yorke's Truxalis labelmate and life collaborator, Seiche, has a studio space). The organ is in poor condition and fascinatingly, painfully detuned. Yorke's recordings bring out its host of unusual quirks exacerbated by age and neglect: the powerful rhythmic creaking of the wooden treadles; the bone-shaking resonance emanating from its body at specific pitches; unexpected exclamations of harmonic collision from within the carcass redolent of a human voice; the piercing, shrieking whistles of broken reeds, and the powerful timbres unlocked via Yorke's experiments with various combinations of stops.

The three tracks that form Salix are inspired by a local weeping willow tree, a constant companion photographed over the course of a year. Boughs caught in a gyre. A maiden in mourning. Branches that gesture in the wrong direction. A tree turned upside down. A hand-woven willow basket, an old technology to gather and store. The journey of a lovelorn bard through the underworld, a bundle of willow under one arm for protection.

For the opening track, The Carrier Bag Theory of Fiction, Yorke recorded herself playing a simple unaccompanied improvisation on the organ, the only ornamentation being the processed sounds of the keys being struck and returning to their positions.

For Bundle of Styx, a spell of protection is cast and then broken. Yorke invited virtuoso clarinettist Charlotte Jolly into the studio to test combining the breathy textures of both brass and natural reeds, the instruments uniting and obsuring each other in turn during this one-take improvisation. The organ's unpredictable sharpened tunings take centre stage here, with Jolly using them as a point of departure to conjure a set of peerless harmonic improvisations live in the moment. Throughout the improvisation, Yorke, a self-taught musician, unpracticed on the organ, supports and challenges, freely admitting that she's not always sure what effect her decisions to move up and down the keyboard or pull out certain stops will have. Jolly's genius lies in her ability to meet and build on every uncertain pitch thrown her way, saying of the experience, "I love that Loula isn't classically trained, I can't predict at all what she's about to do."

For the final track, With the Red Dawn, Yorke has come up with another unique combination of textures, this time bringing her own specialism in modular synthesis to the fore. A ten-minute reed organ drone characterised with ever-shifting bass swells and overtones is layered with tuned sines, often shudderingly wave-folded, that ebb and flow both in intensity and harmonic colour according to the duty cycles of eight interrelated LFOs. These recordings are collaged with Yorke's singing voice and a langorous, ascending sequence across two octaves on Jolly's clarinet, all arranged to form a cohesive whole far greater than the sum of its parts. Smatterings of untuned percussion and a fragment of a conversation between the duo left in the final mix cements Yorke's unprecious DIY aesthetic into the release.

At its heart, Salix is like watching the wind in the willows; hundreds of thousands of identical tiny leaves moving in confluence on its branches; at once one thing and many things; moment-to-moment our perception makes out different individuals parts within this expanse of texture, before sinking back into the whole.

Longtime friend of the label Eraserhead returns after over a decade away from producing music due to his surreal MS Paint work as 'Jim'll Paint It' becoming an unexpected cultural phenomenon. With his debut full-length, 'Violence', Eraserhead presents a truly eclectic electronic LP featuring collaborations with established producers such as Om Unit, Enduser, and Brain Rays, as well as the vocal talents of Nadia Rose, Beans (of Antipop Consortium), and Cadence Weapon. An album held together by theme and tone rather than style or tempo, 'Violence' is the culmination of a bitter wave of inspiration, initially conceived in the wake of a personal tragedy that quickly grew into a broader polemic about the state of the world.

Originally linking up with Love Love in its breakcore netlabel infancy with his refined, breaks-heavy breakcore/gabba, Eraserhead's flair for tight, intricate productions was evident in his finely tuned tracks of controlled chaos. This time around, his work is a darker, more expansive evolution of his sound, with the scale upsized and the stylistic scope massively broadened, remaining unfaithful to any single genre, but with firm nods to Breakcore, Grime, Drum & Bass, Techno, Rave, Dubstep, and Footwork, all chewed up with a hard industrial edge and cinematically framed by a backdrop of apocalyptic synths.

Opening with the cold tech-noir of 'Shining Brainless Beacon' to set the tone, the album quickly locks in with the blistering spoken-word headrush of 'Hurricane With Teeth' alongside rapper Beans, before Om Unit lends his expertise on the sharp groove and clinical bass blasts of 'Operation Hardtack'. The album shifts and morphs constantly throughout the runtime, moving from the raw and urgent acid techno of 'Crowd Control' to the crunching military march of the Gore Tech collaboration 'No More Worlds' and the tribal sci-fi footwork of the Brain Rays collaboration 'Night Visions'. 'Monolith' provides a final burst of catharsis, channelling Underworld by way of Nine Inch Nails, complete with writhing screams from Amée Chanter of sludge-punk-noise-rock duo Human Leather, before the heart of the album is laid bare with the painfully bleak closing dirge of 'Animal'. In its final moments, 'Violence' leaves the listener suspended between devastation and awe - an unflinching portrait of an uncaring world.

Solid Red Vinyl Edition - 10@ Mini album. Originally release in 2025 in a painfully limited 2x7" + Book edition.

"Dream of the Egg" is the debut solo album by Tomo Katsurada, known for his work with the Japanese psychedelic band Kikagaku Moyo. This project is a unique fusion of music and visual art, inspired by the Japanese 1920s children's book “Yume No Tamago (Dream of the Egg)”. It reveals a deeply personal journey, reflecting Tomo's dreams and the numerous rebirths experienced in 2024—a year marked by profound new beginnings in every facet of his life.

This mini album was driven by a passion for raw and immediate expression. Every song was crafted and recorded with only the materials available to him at the time, embracing an organic and handmade atmosphere. By eschewing rhythm clicks and standard instrumental tunings, a spontaneous sound emerged, capturing the essence of both uncertainty and immediacy. Adding to this distinctive sonic landscape, guest musician Jonny Nash (UK) contributed ethereal guitar sounds on the first and final tracks, enriching the record's dream-like quality.

The journey begins with the opening track, "Moshimo," which means "If..." in Japanese. Here, Jonny's guitar weaves seamlessly with the vocal melody, creating a harmonious dialogue. The first half of the album concludes with "Zen Bungalow" a cover of Gabriel Yared's “Bungalow Zen” from the soundtrack of the film “Betty Blue 37°2 Le Matin”. This particular track is his partner’s favourite song to listen to every morning and left a profound impression on him. One day, he heard a song in his dream that combined both of these tracks and loved how they blended together. This experience inspired him to create a new arrangement, "Zen Bungalow," which has become a central piece of the “Dream of the Egg” album.

The third track serves as an interlude, printed on a flexi disk attached to the middle of a picture book. This interlude transitions the listener into"Inner Garden," a bittersweet folk song that explores themes of love. The EP's narrative spans 20 minutes, culminating in the final title track “Dream of the Egg”. This piece features a delicate session between Tomo & Jonny, combining cello and guitar to create a spectrum of tones that evoke the imagery of a rainbow. The focus on smooth dynamics and meticulous play reflects an intent to convey a sense of physical trembling. This track sounds like the beginning of a new dream; as if the egg of one’s dream is about to hatch, bringing a sense of anticipation and wonder to the listener. Throughout the album, a variety of instruments come into play, drifting between notes and embracing the beauty of imperfection. By incorporating free-form sounds in a highly technological age, the record aims to reconnect listeners with the tangible, human-made quality of sound.

Special Thanks
Jonny Nash – Guitar

Bruce Hornsby’s newest album, Indigo Park, is a concept album of sorts, an extended multi-dimensional inquiry into the nature of aging and memory, often with a lightness of tone – the ways certain scenes linger placidly while others balloon into imagined catastrophe, the ways we remember and the ways we forget. Throughout, Hornsby contemplates moments from his deep past, sometimes trying to “resolve” them, other times looking for clues about his present-day outlook. “It's just an old bastard looking back, while hopefully pushing forward to adventurous and new musical & lyrical areas,” Hornsby says of his new songs, with a smile of characteristic self-deprecation. “To be honest, I've found a way, a path to….grow old gracefully, with help from some newborn friends of mine.” The album is produced by Tony Berg, Will Maclellan and Bruce Hornsby with contributions fro

But, in the summer of 2024, a personal tragedy changed everything. Michael and Lou lost their six-year-old granddaughter, Bebe, in the Southport attacks in July that year, and, as much as they tried to carry on and make a My Darling Clementine album, with the weight of so much sadness and grief bearing down on them, it just didn't feel the right thing to do. The tragic events of summer 2024 not only changed the music they were making and the songs they were writing, it also altered their outlook on life. Recognising that everyone's grief is individual even that of a husband and wife Michael and Lou needed to channel their suffering via their own individual creativity and in their own way, rather than in collaboration, so they worked on two solo albums. Michael's "Nothing Can Hurt Me Anymore" is the first of the two to be released.

An album the defies genre, it is simply his instinctive musical reaction to the events of summer 2024. Michael writes "To be honest, it was impossible to write about anything else. It overwhelmed everything. I hope I am now creatively exhausted on the subject, but I think it will affect my writing forever, just as indeed, the loss of Bebe will". It features eleven brand new MWK songs Partly recorded in rural Wales and partly in not so rural Sheffield, "Nothing Can Hurt Me Anymore"was produced by Michael, along with wunderkind Clovis Phillips, and the brilliant Colin Elliot, who also mixed the album.

John Andrews has spent the past few years tucked away in Red Hook, Brooklyn - a neighborhood that sits just beyond the natural drift of the city. Once shaped by maritime industry and later a haven for artists in search of vast warehouse space, its history and isolation give it a quiet magnetism. Streetsweeper, the fifth album by John Andrews & The Yawns, reflects that vantage point-tranquil, self-contained, and curious about the movements most people overlook.
Just a few cobblestone blocks from the freight-ship-lined harbor, Andrews wrote dozens of new songs at his electric piano. Nine of them found their way to Los Angeles to be recorded with Luke Temple, who played guitar and some bass. Drummer Noah Bond and bassist Kevin Louis Lareau, both longtime members of The Yawns and Cut Worms, form the rhythm section. Will Henriksen of Florry played fiddle on “Something To Be Said,” while Emily Moales of Star Moles sang harmonies recorded remotely by Kevin Basko at Historic New Jersey.
Red Hook may not be the easiest neighborhood to reach, but that distance gives it a singular glow-one Andrews sneaks into every note of Streetsweeper. The Super 8 video for “Something To Be Said,” shot by Hilla Eden, wanders through its streets like a hazy love letter. The album offers a similar invitation: step off the main road, linger a little, and notice the small, overlooked moments that make a place-and a life-rich. Andrews has swept those margins with care, leaving songs that listen, observe, and stay with you.

In his 30th year of releasing music, Jimpster returns to Freerange with Bassic Rollers, a brand new four-track EP that reaffirms his status as one of UK house music’s most enduring and inventive figures. This marks his first full release since the highly regarded The Phoenix EP on the legendary Nu Groove imprint.

The Portland, ME trio returns with Feels Like Hell, their most self-assured and emotionally charged record yet. Despite the title, the album is a celebration of personal growth, creative freedom, and defiant joy in the face of a chaotic world.

Coming off the burnout and frustration captured in their 2021 album Quitter, Feels Like Hell finds Sonia Sturino (vocals/guitar), Annie Hoffman (bass/vocals), and Adam Hand (drums) leaning into clarity, gratitude, and renewed purpose. Sturino’s lyrics are as raw and honest as ever, but now they reflect strength rather than despair. It’s an album that drags existential dread into the daylight and sets it on fire.

“I decided to stop being such a sad-sap negative person,” Sturino says. “Now I practice being grateful, being proud, being happy, and not being envious.” That mindset shift shapes the tone of Feels Like Hell, which looks at darkness but chooses not to be consumed by it.

The record also marks the band’s first foray into co-writing, with Hoffman playing a significant role in shaping its sound. Embracing a more intuitive recording process, the trio stripped back the excess and focused on what felt right. The result is a record that’s resilient, cathartic, and brimming with creative energy.

While the world may still feel like it’s falling apart, Feels Like Hell pulses with the power of letting go. Letting go of fear, of perfectionism, of the illusion that vulnerability is weakness. With driving guitars, unflinching lyrics, and a renewed sense of purpose, Weakened Friends prove that it’s possible to stand in the wreckage and still find something worth singing about.