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Black Truffle is pleased to present Radis, the first recording by the Oslo-based trio of Andrea Giordano (voice and organetto), Kalle Moberg (accordion) and Jo David Meyer Lysne (guitar and snare drum). Now based in Norway, Giordano is a native of Cuneo, in the Piedmont region in the north-west of Italy and her exploration of the Piedmontese language provides the starting point and conceptual anchor of the trio improvisations heard on Radis, which make use of the words of 20th century Piedmontese poets Nino Costa, Bianca Dorato and Oreste Gallina. As the musicians explain, the project is an attempt to preserve the beauty and singularity of a language at risk of extinction.

Fittingly, the first sound we hear on the opening piece ‘Fiorìa’ is Giordano’s unaccompanied voice. She sings a poem from Oreste Gallina as a kind of floating cadenza, the accompanying silence sensitizing the listener to the pellucid quality of Giordano’s voice and the unique sound of the Piedmontese language. The voice dies away and into the silence swells a single tone, sounded by Moberg’s accordion and—special guest on this opening piece—the alto saxophone of Mario Gabola. Extended techniques and preparations create unexpected timbres from the acoustic instruments: Gabola’s saxophone is augmented with tin cans and springs and Moberg’s unorthodox techniques allow the accordion to generate wheezing, buzzing textures and patterns of microtonal beating. Giordano’s voice returns, picking up the thread of the languorous opening melody, coexisting for a while with the shifting drone before the piece takes an unexpected yet organic left-turn into a delicate saxophone solo of sorts.

Recorded in several locations across Italy and Norway over the course of three years, Radis documents an ensemble who have developed both a distinctive sound-world and a remarkably sensitive group dynamic. Moving from folkish duets between accordion and Giordano’s organetto (the small accordion used in Italian folk music) to episodes of metallic guitar scraping from Meyer Lysne, the music is both quietly contemplative and gently chaotic. Ensemble roles shift with disarming ease. If on ‘Profij dëspers’ Meyer Lysne’s prepared guitar adds a haywire noise element to a lyrical episode of organetto and accordion, the next piece, ‘D’antorn a lor’, is grounded in chiming guitar chords of stunning beauty; once Giordano’s joins, the result calls up the most spacious moments of Maria Monti’s Il Bestiario. Throughout the seven pieces, the trio explore countless possibilities of group interaction and the margin between conventional euphony and pure abstraction: at times the voice floats against silence or seems almost disconnected from the gentle clatter of the instruments (sometimes reminiscent of Nikiforas Rotas’ haunting settings of Cavafy), while at other points the instruments touch on conventional harmonic accompaniment. What is perhaps most striking of all is the way that voice and instruments relate to each other, the extended technique reframing the voice as a kind of abstract sound object, while the melodic beauty of Giordano’s voice lends a contemplative, almost melancholic air to the wheezing and scraping of accordion and guitar.

Captured in gorgeously intimate recordings, Jim O’Rourke’s careful and beautifully spacious mix highlights the wealth of textural detail in each element. Accompanied by notes, session photos and the text of the Piedmontese poems, Radis is a work of stunning beauty that demonstrates the vitality of exploratory music in Norway today.

- 2026 Repress

Two absolute bangers you need and you'll love. Pressed on a 10" white + solid red mixed vinyl.

Mysticisms’ Dubplate series reaches number 10 with the first in a series of specials, taking the genre blurring music of Persian and presenting updated remixes and versions by up-and-coming producers, as well as friends and family of the label.

Started as a sporadic offshoot of Mysticisms’ main releases, with the idea to highlight the wonderful sounds of dub influenced dance music, Dubplate has now become an integral part of the mission.

To start, South London’s Picasso joins the label, showcasing his declared abstract grooves and an EP of Dub and Tech House movers. While his productions aim for the dance floor, they are often characterized by complex rhythms and unconventional structures, prioritizing atmosphere and texture over traditional melodies.

Drawing inspiration from ambient, jazz, experimental influences and the heavy hand of dub, Sam “Andrews” McKay has crafted an EP of immersive “soundscapes”. Joining the legendary Persian (Peter Reilly) as co-selector, his retakes are all warped grooves, wide bass and dubby atmospherics.

Opening with Space Within Art, the street soul meets reggae rhythms are jettisoned, and a Dub House swing drives the track. The love, homage and vibration for Sound System culture remains, enchanting trippy reggae sampledelic vocals weaving in the brain.

Dunya 2 sees a shift, minds expanding. A jazz influenced breakbeat, harp, strings, building to a psychedelic swirl, driven by a dub bass in a clash, morph and glow.

The deep Digi Dub of D Dub Twist grows, warping the ‘JA riddim meets English hedonism’ in true Soundclash style. Touches of drone underlay, highlighting Sam’s experimental leaning, utilising Persian’s love of Eastern mystical samples to marry perfectly for a deep dub excursion.

The self-prescribed “odd-fellow” completes his versions, exploring his love of depth and abstract sound in closer, Jacob’s Dub. The warm roots vibrations in original form develop into a scatter gun House bumper. Dubwise, Lovers, Stepper, all merge around shuffling, trippy beats and skippy hats, Picasso’s groove is laid bare, driving the EP to finale.

Abstract the Mystery.

Wind of Oirat is the full length debut by Mongolian independent musician and sound artist Ts Bayandalai. Following his acclaimed 2020 EP Kimel, he now presents a further matured, composed and refined version of his signature sound, which combines traditional Mongolian music and instruments with influences from experimental music and post-rock. Deeply rooted in the cultural traditions of his homeland, Ts Bayandalai, who grew up in a nomadic family in the Mongolian steppe, explores nature and its myths, his ancestral roots, and the relationship between humans, animals and nature.

Artist Bio:

Ts Bayandalai is a Mongolian independent musician and sound artist. His childhood on the steppes shaped a deep sensitivity to natural and ethnic sound. To create his individual, deeply rooted yet modern soundscape, he combines traditional Mongolian musical elements with post-rock, experimental and electronic music, as well as from outernational music influences.

Born into a nomadic family on the steppes, Ts Bayandalai grew up wandering the vast grasslands with shepherds, absorbing the resonances of the horse fiddle and guitar — experiences that remain a primordial source of inspiration in his work.

Founder of the avantgarde band Horse Radio (2012) and the experimental project December3AM (2015), his compositions navigate cultural memory and contemporary aesthetics, reconstructing pastoral landscapes, temporal layers, and emotional spaces through sound.

His EP Kimel, released in 2020, manifested a delicate sculpting of sound, space, and cultural motifs, presenting a listening experience that is at once primal and modern.

Ts Bayandalai’s performances span China, Mongolia, and major independent music venues and festivals across Asia. His artistic vitality and creative autonomy have earned him critical acclaim and a devoted following in the international folk music and experimental music communities.

Analog Fingerprints Vol. 0 is a compilation bringing together the early 2000s works of Marco Passarani under his Analog Fingerprints alias, collecting key tracks originally released on Rome’s Plasmek and Pigna labels.

For Numbers, the story starts long before the label itself. In their formative years, digging in Glasgow’s Rubadub, Passarani’s records felt like dispatches from a future city. Releases on his own Nature Records and on labels such as Generator and Interr-Ference Communications were mind blowing: rooted in Detroit techno, Chicago house and electro, yet pushing somewhere new. Much like fellow travellers Autechre, who would remix him in 2001, Passarani’s music balanced machine funk with restless experimentation.

Information was scarce, and you would hear these records first on the dancefloor or at listening stations in shops like Rubadub. Print fanzines like Ear and early web outposts such as Forcefield offered only fragments. But there was a palpable axis forming between Detroit techno and a new European wave of record labels including Skam, Rephlex, Clone, Viewlexx and Nature itself. It was the sound that defined Saturday nights at Rubadub’s ‘69’ parties in Paisley, just outside of Glasgow.

Passarani’s records, in particular, were instrumental in bringing together the future Numbers co-founders. Richard had already booked him pre-Numbers; meanwhile Calum (Spencer) and Jack (Jackmaster), then 16/17 year olds working alternate Saturdays in Rubadub, were so enamoured with the Roman sound that they travelled to Rome for the Bitz Festival in 2003 to seek out Passarani and Lory D at their source.

The first Analog Fingerprints release landed as a 12” on Plasmek in 2001, following the fractured, IDM-leaning 6 Katun material. For Passarani, the project marked a recalibration. A DJ first and foremost, he had moved into production via early computer setups, from a Commodore Amiga through primitive PC audio, Cubase and Logic, later experimenting with Ableton. The IDM scene had offered a playground for trial and error, but there was always a tension between abstraction and the dancefloor. Analog Fingerprints became the bridge: still intelligent, but with more dance than distance. After years of broken beats and complex arrangements, he wanted directness without surrendering identity.

Working closely with Francesco de Bellis and Mario Pierro in the Pigneto district, the trio formed Pigna as a vehicle for reclaiming a more accessible dance sound, deliberately steering away from the minimal wave beginning to dominate Europe. Sessions were fast, instinctive, often stretching late into the night with friends dropping by. It was a studio as social space, production as collective energy.

“In that constant search for balance, Analog Fingerprints was my way of expressing something closer to the classic dance floor. The track 'Tribute' - a tribute to my favourite early Detroit techno track of all time, 'First Bass' by Separate Minds - came after I realised I had almost lost my connection with the dance floor. The simplest step was to take inspiration from early Chicago and Detroit and twist it in our Roman ‘Pigna’ way. My goal was to create more accessible dancefloor tracks by mixing my unconscious Italo roots with my teenage love for that early US sound, ensuring the result was as far as possible from the minimal sound that was starting to dominate everywhere.” - Marco Passarani

Technically, the Analog Fingerprints tracks span a transitional era: Roland TR-909, SH-101 and Alpha Juno hardware met early software experiments. A Novation Drumstation rack stood in for the unattainable TR-808, syncing with TB-303 and TR-606. Yet the true secret weapon was Jeskola Buzz, a tracker-style modular environment that allowed step-by-step parameter control and strange melodic constructions, later exported into the audio sequencer. Even the lead on ‘Tribute’ came from an early PPG Wave-style plugin. It was hybrid thinking at a moment when digital tools still felt unstable but full of possibility for technologists like Passarani.

Behind the music sat Finalfrontier, a loose Roman collective orbiting Nature and Plasmek. Distribution and production were intertwined; importing obscure records into Italy built connections with like-minded outsiders across Europe and the US. Expensive phone bills and fax machines forged an “electronix network” that linked Rome to Clone, Viewlexx, Skam, Rephlex, Rubadub and Detroit’s Underground Resistance. There was a shared sense of survival and resistance, of operating against commercial systems.

Passarani recalls “The first time I found a sheet of paper inside an Underground Resistance 12” with info about upcoming releases... and a huge picture of Spock on the back. Imagine that: you love the music, you love Star Trek, and there’s someone on the other side of the ocean sharing those same values and sounds. It was the perfect match. We even gave our original company the suffix ‘Finalfrontier’: that says it all.”

Feedback in that era arrived physically: distributor faxes, conversations with visiting DJs, the experience of playing abroad and meeting kids who had connected with the records. Glasgow became a key node in a scattered outlier network. Passarani personally brought the first two Nature releases to Fat Cat in London, playing them in-store. Shortly after, a fax arrived from Rubadub in Glasgow requesting copies.

“I still remember that phone buzz and the fax paper slowly sliding out, with someone I didn’t know saying they wanted 75 copies of Nature 001. Or like the time we got a fax from the Rephlex crew just saying, “Hello Nature Records, Keep up the good work.” That was how we knew the message was getting through. It was a fantastic feeling; just one piece of thermal fax paper as an analog notification - the mood for the entire week would change.” - Passarani

The connection to Glasgow has since stretched across generations. As Passarani reflects, links often fracture as scenes renew themselves, but in Glasgow something different happened. New and old mixed seamlessly. There was a visible trust in what came before, and a willingness to carry it forward rather than discard it. Observed from Rome, it was deeply encouraging.

Analog Fingerprints Vol. 0 captures that moment of exchange: Rome to Glasgow, Detroit to Europe, experiment to dancefloor. It documents an artist recalibrating his sound and a network of scenes discovering one another in real time, connected by vinyl, faxes and shared intent.

The Citadel Speaks marks the first recorded statement of ElektrAV as a curatorial imprint.

Rooted in Pamplona’s Citadel —and more specifically within the Arms Hall— this release brings together Alberta Balsam, Boris Divider, Bendiak, Komatssu and µ-Ziq, artists whose practices have resonated within the festival’s ecosystem through a shared sensitivity to space, experimentation and sound as cultural expression. Their contributions are not conceived as documentation of an event, but as part of an ongoing cultural dialogue.

The Citadel is not presented here as a venue, but as an active entity: a space that absorbs, transforms and emits sound. Each contribution responds to that condition, forming a collective statement shaped by place, time and intention.

This first volume initiates a living archive.
What follows is not a catalogue of releases, but a body of work.

A joke that doesn’t make you laugh is just a sentence. Music that doesn’t make you dance and feel is just noise aimed in your direction. To make a circuit where energy flows freely, you must have feedback. Without feedback, connection is absent. As Limousine Dream enters the Age of Aquarius, we open up. Instead of trying to grow, we let it grow. Instead of building a pyramid, we see a constellation where we are all stars, and every star can equally stand out and fit in. We invite you to join us, just like we want to join you. This is where we begin our Life Spiral.

As Nathan Fake rises from the nocturnal subterranea and rave catharsis of his previous records, on Evaporator, he resurfaces into the domain of daylight, bringing a tangible sense of air rushing against your face, of big skies, and endless landscapes. The idea of pop accessibility that trickled into 2023’s Crystal Vision is refracted here through the prism of sweeping ambient, deep electronica, and trance uplift. Evaporator is Fake’s idea of “airy daytime music”, with each track a different barometer reading across the album’s varying atmospheres, which range from vibrant sunbursts, bracing rainscapes, and fine mists of clement melodics. “It’s not overtly confrontational electronic club music,” states Fake. “It’s quite pleasant, it’s accessible. As I was progressing through making the tracklist, I called it a daytime album. It doesn’t feel like an afterparty album.” For the past decade Fake has been gingerly introducing collaborations with heroes and friends alike into his lone, idiosyncratic working process. Border Community alumni Dextro AKA Ewan Mackenzie transmutes his ferocious drumming for Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs into the blurred choral thump of ‘Baltasound’. ‘Orbiting Meadows’, meanwhile, is his second collaboration with Clark, an eerily idyllic duet where microtonal 18EDO piano clangs slowly twirl around wailing pads. Evaporator marks the junction point of old technology and ever fresh creativity for Nathan. The trusty “dinosaur” age software, particularly Cubase VST5, that has powered two decades of music is rarely updated. “I used to sort of feel a bit ashamed of using such old software, and then I kind of had an epiphany – that’s just how I work”, comments Fake. “That’s just how I play. I’m very fond of these old tools, and I get the most joy out of them, but now I’ve incorporated new technology too.” When an artist accumulates so much synergy with their instrument, music making becomes instinctual. By Fake’s account, much of Evaporator just fell into place. The album title arrived randomly in his head (“it felt completely perfect. Airy.”), ideas looped and developed until things locked into place and just felt right. ‘The Ice House’ is a fleeting glimpse of the sonic world he taps into in this creative state, its glassy FM synths built around a counterpoint between rough-hewn crystalline arpeggios and sparse yet gravitas-bearing bass. “That riff I just wrote out on the keyboard, I just played it forever and ever and ever. The original track ended up being really short. Here you go, and it’s gone!” These unplanned channellings of sound call forth records from Fake’s past while he looks ahead, perhaps getting at the very essence of his musicianship. The opener ‘Aiwa’ (“the breeziest,” he muses) reminds of the introspection that characterised Providence, excited by the fire and grit of Steam Days’ textural experiments, its chunky slams and clatters surging into a flood of harmonic buzzing as they reach out for old wisdom. ‘Hypercube’ stampedes in a similar chronological confluence, infusing an incessant synth line reminiscent of the golden age of rave with the crackling, ecstatic energy of modern festival anthems. Like the vaporisation of liquid to particles, everything that Evaporator presents has a mutant desire to be amorphous. Sounds rarely settle; the irradiated garage beat of ‘Bialystok’ is pitched downwards to driving, rebounding effect, while ‘You’ll Find a Way’ warps static into shivering energy, cinematic synth strings building anticipation into a gradual gush of chords. This translates into a more expansive stereo field than Fake has explored before. ‘Slow Yamaha’ saves the wildest, most kinetic transformations for last with a cornucopia of crispy melodies and fried drums; a sibilance of cymbals on the left, a susurrus of shakers on the right, and kaleidoscopic lasers pulsing and fizzing all around. Evaporation culminating in pure excited atoms. In a world where music has increasingly become background content, making albums remains lifeblood for Fake: “It makes me realise how long; twenty years is ages! It’s weird to see how much the world has changed. Release day back then you did fuck all, now you spend all day on socials. When I grew up the people who made the electronic music I was into were quite mysterious, and the artwork was very abstract. There was a massive distance between you and that music, and that was a key part of it, really. Now it helps to be an extrovert, and I'm just not, but the album marks the first time my face has graced the cover art. I’ve never wanted to do this before, I'm very shy, and generally I don’t like being seen,” he professes. “But, twenty years in, I supposed I could try something new. I'm very lucky that I'm somehow surviving in this world, where the media world favours extroverts and interesting looking people. It’s not my world but somehow I’m still in it.” Evaporator continues to prove Nathan’s necessary presence, with some of his most engaging, varied, and magical music yet.

Tim Maia’s self-titled 1973 album is one of those records that hits you from the very first groove and doesn’t let go. Originally released on Polydor Brazil, this was the fourth in a series of Tim’s self-titled albums and many fans and critics still consider it the crown jewel. Packed with irresistible hooks, lush arrangements, and that unmistakable Tim Maia swagger, the album captures the singer at the peak of his creative powers.If you’re new to Tim Maia, here’s the quick story: born in Rio de Janeiro, Tim was a larger-than-life icon whose music married American soul and funk with Brazilian samba and pop long before “fusion” was a buzzword. A true musical polymath, he absorbed everything from Curtis Mayfield to Motown and translated it into a sound entirely his own, gritty, passionate, and full of groove.



He didn’t just introduce soul to Brazil; he made it Brazilian.On this 1973 release, Tim pushes everything up a notch. The arrangements are bigger, slicker, and surprisingly majestic, without losing the raw spirit that earned him a devoted following. From the moment ‘Réu Confesso’ opens the album, you know you’re in for something special—smooth, funky, and heartfelt in all the right ways. The bittersweet ‘Gostava Tanto de Você’ remains one of his most beloved classics, while ‘O Balanço’ bursts with Brazilian flavor that practically dares you not to move. And with tracks like ‘Do Your Thing, Behave Yourself’ and ‘Over Again,’ Tim shows just how naturally the soul idiom fit him, even when he switched to English.This record has everything: deep grooves, soaring strings, magnetic vocals, and that unmistakable sense of joy that Tim Maia carried into every session. It’s a front-to-back winner—one of those albums that deserves a spot not just in Brazilian music history, but in any collection that celebrates great soul, funk, and timeless grooves.If you’re a longtime fan, it’s a reminder of why Tim Maia is legendary. If you’re discovering him for the first time, this is the perfect place to start. Either way: press play, turn it up, and let Tim do his thing.

Amsterdam-based producer Retromigration makes his debut on the launch of a new Oathcreations imprint "KARAMÜRSELL?" with 'Can't Go', a hyper-kinetic and rapturous piece of dance music sure to ensnare any dancefloor.
Inspired by soul, funk, jazz, and hip-hop, his auditory identity is one of profound melodic effusion and expert percussive sequences, absorbed within life-affirming atmospheres.
'Can't Go' feels like yet another landmark, tuning itself into the pulsating energies of the club, drawing lines between bass music, footwork, garage and jungle.
The EP is completed with 'Distant', featuring fuller harmonies, a tear-jerking chordal line and a spiritual sax solo.

Elations Recordings presents "Terra Ignota", the long-awaited new full length album from elusive Melbourne-based fusion ensemble Krakatau. "Terra Ignota" marks a return and an epochal shift for the group, a deep exploration of possible sonic spaces and a portent of things to come.

In the years since 2016's cosmic jazz funk-prog-spiritual 12" "Tharsis Montes/Apogean Tide" Krakatau have worked on refining their craft as instrumentalists and writers, expanding further into the world of jazz and fusing influences from world folk musics, contemporary jazz and the European post-minimalist music of the 1980s and early 90s. "Terra Ignota", literally translated as "Unknown Land", takes its name from the cartographer's notation for uncharted territory, the blank spaces on maps where knowledge gives way to imagination and speculation, gesturing towards the group's studio explorations and search for new sonic worlds in the years spent developing the record.

The results are a diverse yet unified combination of sounds and influences across five tracks that see Krakatau drawing closer to the independent underground "world" jazz scene of the 1980s than anything contemporary. The album opens with the digi-minimalism and fourth world atmospherics of title track "Terra ignota", a percussion heavy latin fusion sound in "Birds of Passage", and melancholic ambient saxophone and synthesiser duo "In Memory". Three-part epic "Cosmetic Surgery" journeys through a long, complex post-minimalist arrangement into latin fusion and contemporary jazz, followed by the contemplative ECM-styled acoustic quartet closer "Trial in Absentia".

The album features significant contributions from saxophonist Rob Vincs, former Victorian College of the Arts head of Jazz and Improvisation and a collaborator with Australian musician Brian Brown; layered percussion and wordless vocals from Brazilian percussionist and esteemed songwriter Alcides Neto; and a guest performance from trumpet player Reuben Lewis on the title track.

Following their 2024 debut „La Grande Accumulation“ Anadol (Gözen Atila) and Marie Klock return with „Manivelles“.

Hailed by The Quietus as a duo that pushes each other to "greater heights of oddness" the pair produces an undefinable mix of folk, kraut, and pop nested inside expansive organ-based arrangements. The album‘s nine tracks emerged from intensive improvisations in Paris and Istanbul, brought to life with an odd mix of tools: from Prophet-5 and Jupiter-6 synths to mechanical Pianet clatter and even a salad spinner repurposed as a drone.

Klock‘s French lyrics navigate the miniature and the cosmic, exploring the small tragedies of everyday life - botched holiday gatherings, lingering heartbreak or the absence of a loved one.

Born from a moment of catharsis during an Istanbul earthquake that ended a period of writer‘s block, the record draws its material from lived experience and a lasting friendship.

Its title „Manivelles“ - meaning "cranks" - hints at the musical partners creative penchant for generating songs through friction and playful contradictions. From the shouted pastiche of "Symposium" to the sparse synth pulses of "Une Grande Tragédie Polonaise", it‘s an album with a wonderfully wonky heart that sounds like faint signals from a beautifully failing transmitter.

Schwarzes Vinyl! Doppel-LP im Klappcover. Ursprünglich 2017 rausgebracht und jetzt zum ersten Mal in Europa über Sub Pop erhältlich! Pure Comedy, das dritte Album von Father John Misty, ist eine komplexe, oft sarkastische und ebenso oft berührende Reflexion über die verwirrende Torheit der modernen Menschheit. Father John Misty ist das Projekt von Singer-Songwriter Josh Tillman. Wir könnten viel über Pure Comedy sagen, zum Beispiel, dass es ein mutiges, wichtiges Album in der Tradition amerikanischer Songwriting-Größen wie Harry Nilsson, Randy Newman und Leonard Cohen ist, aber wir denken, es ist am besten, wenn sein Schöpfer es selbst beschreibt. Los geht's, Mr. Tillman: Pure Comedy ist die Geschichte einer Spezies, die mit einem unvollständig entwickelten Gehirn geboren wurde. Die einzige Überlebenschance dieser Spezies, die sich auf einem grausamen, unberechenbaren Felsen wiederfindet, umgeben von anderen Spezies, die in dieser ganzen Sache viel geschickter zu sein scheinen (und für die sie eine Delikatesse sind), besteht darin, sich auf andere, etwas ältere, halb ausgebildete Gehirne zu verlassen. Diese Abhängigkeit bekommt im Laufe der Geschichte verschiedene Namen, wie ,Liebe", ,Kultur", ,Familie" usw. Mit der Zeit und da sich ihre Gehirne als bemerkenswert gut darin erweisen, Bedeutung zu erfinden, wo keine ist, wird die Spezies zum Lieferanten immer bizarrerer und raffinierterer Ironien. Diese Ironien sollen helfen, mit der abscheulichen Verletzlichkeit der Spezies fertig zu werden und zu versuchen, ihre Fantasie mit der Monotonie ihrer Existenz in Einklang zu bringen. So in etwa. Pure Comedy wurde 2016 in den legendären United Studios (Frank Sinatra, Ray Charles, Beck) in Hollywood, Kalifornien, aufgenommen. Produziert wurde es von Father John Misty und Jonathan Wilson, die Tonarbeit übernahm Mistys langjähriger Tontechniker Trevor Spencer und die Orchesterarrangements stammen vom bekannten Komponisten und Kontrabassisten Gavin Bryars (bekannt für seine umfangreichen Soloarbeiten und seine Zusammenarbeit mit Brian Eno, Tom Waits und Derek Bailey). Black Vinyl. Originally released in 2017 & now available for the first time in Europe via Sub Pop! Pure Comedy, Father John Misty's third album, is a complex, often-sardonic, and, equally often, touching meditation on the confounding folly of modern humanity. Father John Misty is the brainchild of singer-songwriter Josh Tillman. While we could say a lot about Pure Comedy including that it is a bold, important album in the tradition of American songwriting greats like Harry Nilsson, Randy Newman, and Leonard Cohen we think it's best to let its creator describe it himself. Take it away, Mr. Tillman: Pure Comedy is the story of a species born with a half-formed brain. The species' only hope for survival, nding itself on a cruel, unpredictable rock surrounded by other species who seem far more adept at this whole thing (and to whom they are delicious), is the reliance on other, slightly older, half-formed brains. This reliance takes on a few different names as their story unfolds, like "love," "culture," "family," etc. Over time, and as their brains prove to be remarkably good at inventing meaning where there is none, the species becomes the purveyor of increasingly bizarre and sophisticated ironies. These ironies are designed to help cope with the species' loathsome vulnerability and to try and reconcile how disproportionate their imagination is to the monotony of their existence. Something like that. Pure Comedy was recorded in 2016 at the legendary United Studios (Frank Sinatra, Ray Charles, Beck) in Hollywood, CA. It was produced by Father John Misty and Jonathan Wilson, with engineering by Misty's longtime sound-person Trevor Spencer and orchestral arrangements by renowned composer/double-bassist Gavin Bryars (known for extensive solo work, and work with Brian Eno, Tom Waits, Derek Bailey).

Sultans Ghost Ship LP was originally released on Sympathy For The Record Industry in 2000. While RFTC looked for a new drummer, Speedo (armed with an 8 track tape machine and 3 microphones) devised yet another alias as “Slasher” and concocted this primordial ooze of moped scuzz, punk rock and roll. Ghost Ship was met with enthusiasm by those seeking blistering relief from the weak, whiny, wretched and wimpy wannabes du jour.

The sound is full on, straight ahead with only starting gates and finish lines between songs. The band played some shows around California and would slightly evolve on their second LP Shipwrecked. Ghost Ship is Sultans at their most thuggish and hairiest. Taking inspiration from Australia’s Chosen Few, Ramones bootlegs, Misfits bootlegs and then challenging themselves to be as thrifty and impatient as possible, the songs are intentionally brief, similar and burly. After this was recorded these tapes lay dormant in a shed for over 20 years. When the tapes were recently unearthed it revealed unreleased songs recorded after Ghost Ship yet before the band’s follow up LP Shipwrecked. Some of these songs would later be absorbed by RFTC and re-recorded. These songs are included here as bonus tracks and offer no relief to the record’s unrelenting pace.

Visionary producer Ibrahim Alfa Jr, who's been traversing the rave's farthest fringes since the late '90s, returns with his most focused and concise set to date, an anthology of undulating, bass-heavy experiments that surveys techno and its distorted history, printing fractured pulses and cybernetic synths over vanishing snapshots of jazz, funk, trip-hop, broken beat, dub and ambient music. It's a body of work that coalesced during a difficult time for Alfa.

After returning to Brighton and sobriety in 2022, he was diagnosed with a pulmonary embolism, subsequently suffering two debilitating heart attacks. With his immune system compromised, isolation was the only option, so for months on end Alfa devoted each waking hour to his art, recording samples, building digital synths and effects and meticulously sequencing some of his waviest, most experimental material to date. Over this period he finished over 500 tracks, writing impulsively and constantly challenging himself. "There was nothing to hold me back," he explains. "I just had music, I didn't know if I would see the next day."

Now recovered from his ordeal, Alfa looks back at this prolific period with optimism and fondness. It was a chance for him to reconnect with his art holistically, writing purely for himself without any outside influence. Because, at this stage in his life, Alfa has already been through a series of artistic evolutions. When he was still just a teenager, he penned a slew of grinding, jacking techno 12"s (under a variety of mysterious monikers) in the late '90s before re-emerging a decade ago with the acclaimed 'Hidden By The Leaves', an album made up of deeply personal archival tracks that were thought to have been lost. A few years later, Alfa returned wholeheartedly with a series of records for Mille Plateaux that redrew the boundaries of his "Black political music without words." And on 'Infinite Black Inside', those different strands are muddled with Alfa's profound life experiences and he expresses himself free of any self-imposed boundaries, writing quickly on a hybrid analog-digital setup to document as many ideas as possible.

There's a palpable sense of liberation that drives the album's opening track, 'Subutrax', lubricating polyrhythms that isolate the connective tissue between footwork and Detroit techno as they slip between looped electric piano vamps and vaporous synths. On 'Naked Lunchbreak' meanwhile, the beat generation's excesses are illustrated by mesmeric fast-paced acoustic drums that Alfa balances out with brassy drones and euphoric keys. He captures rubbery hits from a Ghanaian djembe on 'Drum Slinger', re-sequencing them into seismic waves that rumble underneath live woodwind blasts. And on 'Capture', decelerated breaks and garbled voices tumble into humid pads, suspending the album somewhere between the chill-out room and the night sky. It's a record of new beginnings and fresh narratives that collapses the hardcore continuum, revealing a sonic signature that's Alfa's alone.

"Tapping into a shared affinity for early trance – as in short for transcendental – Function and Nastia Reigel come together on Dekmantel with ‘Devocion’. Bridging the past and the future, this partnership draws deeply on brooding, melancholic early-90s sounds and supercharges it with the immensity of modern techno.

The project began when Nastia Reigel shared a series of discoveries with David ‘Function’ Sumner – records rooted in the rave-leaning edge of the era, spanning labels like R&S, FAX and EXperimental. He responded that this was precisely the music he had been absorbing while coming up in the thick of New York’s club and rave scenes and beginning his journey into DJing. The excited exchange of deep digs around this niche of dance music history naturally led to a conversation about collaborating on music in this vein, and Devocion is the result.

Familiar genre touchstones are everywhere, from the plaintive bleeps and understated breakbeat roll of 'Eternity' through the sad-eyed arpeggios strafing on the edges of 'Reverence' and on to 'Flowstate's blue-hued acid lines and 'Orion's sky-scraping gated pads. But Reigel and Sumner deploy these strongly coded elements with poise, feeding into a richly rendered production that feels anything but old-school. The emotive streak is wielded with care, spelling out the mood without losing the steely, shadowy sensibility that tracks through their respective catalogues.

In a perfect demonstration of honouring the past while embracing the present, Devocion EP lands as a distinctive artistic statement on its own terms."

The collaborative project of Lawrence English and Werner Dafeldecker has consistently been concerned with processes of transformation. This is all the more true for »Fathom Tides,« the duo’s second album for Hallow Ground following up on »Tropic of Capricorn« from 2023. Using field recordings collected from diverse coastal environments made by English and later treated extensively by Dafeldecker, the two sound artists explore cyclical changes in nature across these seven pieces. Through its abstracted soundscapes, »Fathom Tides« poses concrete questions: What impact do we have on the world we inhabit?

»Tropic of Capricorn« was based on material English had recorded around Australia to highlight the country’s colonial past. On »Fathom Tides,« water and tides provided a conceptual framework for the duo’s remote working process—notions of states of action and tidal dynamics becoming guiding principles in their work with the source material. English and Dafeldecker were led by the question how the morphing of solid forms into more liquid states might be captured and used as compositional guides for their respective preparations treatments and the addition of electronics to the source material.

While eroding coastlines, river systems, and glacial transformation served as inspiration, the seven pieces resulted out of the two sound artists paying close attention to seemingly minute details through which immediate and distant histories peek through often in the most unexpected and rewarding ways. Hence, »Fathom Tides« does not provide a macro view on the catastrophic changes humans have facilitated on Earth. It is its own sound world guided by both the pace of its subjects and a recognition that time is fluid—a reminder that our clocks are not those of the world around us.

Wenn Daniel Benyamin Musik schreibt, geht es nie nur darum, schöne Lieder zu komponieren. Es steht immer eine umfassendere Idee im Vordergrund - ein übergreifendes Konzept, eine Perspektive, durch die er bestimmte Aspekte des Lebens reflektiert. Mit seinem zweiten Soloalbum geht er jedoch über einzelne Themen hinaus und richtet seinen Blick auf das Leben als Ganzes: das Leben nach der Musik. Ein kleines Studio, hoch oben auf einer Klippe am Fuße des Olymp. Vollkommene Einsamkeit. Nur in der Ferne gibt es einen schwachen Hinweis auf Leben. Klingt so absolute Stille? ,Dolphin Palace" ist der Name des Ortes, an dem ,Life After Music" entstanden ist. Das Ergebnis ist ,Life After Music", ein Doppelalbum, unterteilt in vier thematische Seiten, das am 15. Mai 2026 über Ghost Palace Records erscheinen wird.

On Lila, his debut LP, Moroccan artist Karim presents a series of undulating electronic rhythms laser-etched into tessellated form: drumless techno from the pre-Sahara, built for communal psychic expansion.

Drumless, yes, but not percussionless. There are shakers, castanets, stabs, plonks, thuds. There are insistent basslines propelling forward, pulsing with energy, rippling in time. There are tones interlocking, rolling, fluttering, pattering. Dancing within, around, between each other. Considered in terms of sheer geometry, Lila is a techno record, unmistakably. But it sounds quite unlike any other techno record you've heard lately.

To write the album, Karim borrowed from the music of the Gnawa, a religious-spiritual musical tradition descended from West African peoples brought to Morocco as slaves hundreds of years ago. Now integrated deeply into Moroccan culture, the centerpiece of Gnawa music is the lila—or "night," in Arabic—an all-night-long ritual of rhythm designed to induce participants and musicians alike into a healing trance state. Which, if you're a dedicated raver, may sound familiar, yes?

Crafted entirely with modular synthesizers, Lila conjures a range of textures and moods. The show opens with "Bakh," a blissful exercise in beatlessness, clear and crystalline. On "Philipoussis," "Kiyex," and "Sonic," arpeggiated synths approximate Gnawa chants while interlaid percussion keeps time in multiple meters. "La" and "Kille" pulse in half-time, ideal for creative mixing. "Joul à lèvre" bristles with electricity, the sound of a charged lightning rod. "Pamil," woozy and lurching, feels like being shipwrecked on a forgotten island. Last and absolutely certainly not least, on the final track, "Miloir," Karim faces West and unleashes the album's only kick drum for a ten-minute psychedelic techno masterpiece. The mind warps; the body moves. 

Lila is released on Tikita, Karim's own record label, founded in 2014. Tikita's discography, spare but tightly curated, features artists from across the globe pushing outwards into techno's deepest reaches. Karim's album pushes even farther. Listen for yourself.