Cerca:abstract elements

Entering its 26th year of activity, the morphing, Los Angeles based experimental outfit, Sissy Spacek, joins Shelter Press with Entrance, among the project's most captivating outings to date. Encountering the duo of John Wiese and Charlie Mumma joined in various configurations by an incredible cast of collaborators - Tim Barnes, Marco Fusinato, Aaron Hemphill, Brad Laner, Katsura Mouri, Ralf Wehowsky, and C Spencer Yeh - collectively transformed into a series a deeply intimate and delicate gestures of musique concrète, Entrance radically repositions the possibilities presented by group improvisation outside of time and place. Founded at the end of the last millennium, the Los Angeles based project, Sissy Spacek, initially emerged from the knotted, fiery context 1990s American noise and grindcore, producing sheets of visceral sonority that quickly set the scene on its head. Going through numerous evolutions, before eventually settling as a duo of John Wiese and Charlie Mumma - joined by a rotating and often recurring cast collaborators - over the last 25 years the band has continuously entered states of evolution that have defied the expectations of its own context, seeding the sonic extremes noise with subtle and sophisticated approaches to free improvisation and musique concrète. Fiercely positioning its efforts within the outer reaches of contemporary experimental music, while resisting the constraints of a singular sound or proximity, Wiese regards Sissy Spacek as being primarily centred around the practice of musique concrète and the pursuit of extremes. From its earliest releases - collage treatments of material gathered from the band's full throttle practice sessions - the project's conceptual framework has continuously evolved within a deeply engaged process of experimentation, not only reworking tactical approaches, but also definitions and perception regarding the location and action of their work. In recent years, this has led to an increasingly varied and diverse output. Percolating within, is a thread marked by a striking sense of delicacy and intimacy, driving forward while doubling as an unexpected challenge, in real time, to perceptions connected to the band's past. Entrance is the most recent of these. Embarking upon the four compositions that comprise the finalized four sides of Entrance, Wiese and Mumma enlisted longstanding collaborators, Tim Barnes, Marco Fusinato, Aaron Hemphill, Brad Laner, Katsura Mouri, and C Spencer Yeh, as well as new initiate, Ralf Wehowsky (of the seminal German electronic noise collective P16.D4), requesting a contribution of sounds from each, determined by a general set guidelines that dictated certain qualities the given sonorities, while allowing for the expression of each player's distinct creative voice. The sets of resulting recordings were then chopped, harvested, manipulated, and reassembled as the four tape compositions that make up the album - Web Of Unfolding Appearance, Figure Of Reflected Light, Trancher And The Inheritors, True Dimension (From The Opaque - Spike) - each blurring the lines of authorship and clear creative proximity in remarkable ways. Where historical gestures of musique concrète tend to draw upon non-instrumental sound sources - regarding its sonorous material as raw elements, unburdened by inherent meaning or association, to be transformed and imbued with musicality - Sissy Spacek turns this position on its head. Entrance comprises works of musique concrète that not only draw upon instrumental sound sources, with all their possible meanings or associations, but also individual characters and personalities of their players, crediting each resulting piece to its respective configuration of contributors. As such, Entrance is an effort of sound collage defined by a rare sense of intimacy and humanity: four pieces that often take on the resemblance of group improvisation, but have, in fact, been assembled outside of time and place. Bent under the ever-present hand of Wiese's tape treatments and manipulation, each of the album's four compositions unfurl startling states of sonic abstraction and percolating texture, marked by a striking sense of hard-shifting structure, that culminate as tense, driven manifestations of ambient music: scrapes, squeals, rattles feedback, rolling drums, bouncing tones, whispers, bent electronics, electric artefacts, and seemingly everything else under the sun, configured into immersive, sublime mediations in sound from the most improbable events.

"Daft Punk brought me here, he brought me Daft Punk"

Just knowing that this slice of hyper-rare disco dynamite was crafted by Thomas Bangalter's dad should be enough for you to buy this on sight, if only to understand a little bit more about Thomas and Daft Punk's background. But this is so much more than a Daft Punk family curio.

Born Bangalter in 1947, Daniel Vangarde is a French songwriter and producer. In 1975, Vangarde founded his label, Zagora Records, who we have worked closely with on this lovingly curated reissue. For years, Vangarde wrote and produced songs that remained underground, under several pseudonyms and for various artists. Dubbed "the secret father of French disco" this here groove-fulled firecracker - using his Who’s Who moniker - is for disco-funk, library music and cosmic beat lovers.

The intense, evocative opener "Palace Palace" positively throbs with raw energy and sounds, honestly, like something off Daft Punk's Discovery. The title refers to the fashionable Parisian club Le Palace, essentially the Parisian Studio 54. "I’d been to a nightclub in New York, a big ring where people were roller skating with a whistle. The atmosphere was great. The music was all disco. I made this song when I came back. A vocoder transformed my voice. Back then, it wasn’t used much." The track rides a killer groove and is deceptively complex, with layers of fantastic percussion and ace synth work going on all over it. Listed to on repeat, it's brilliance is simply undeniable.

The louche, slo-mo heater "Hypno Dance" is, in Be With's opinion, *the* deadly dancefloor track. A svelte slice of ace space disco again geared towards the roller skating dance mania of the day. So deep, so disco, so instrumental. An unreal track and, as the title hints at, totally hypnotic. The side closes with the somewhat throwaway "Popeden" - it's a jaunty number that you're probably best skipping, in all honesty. Have we ever steered you wrong?

The B-Side opens with the frankly enormous "Roll Jacky Roll" is another thrilling, high class roller-rink jam with beautiful melodies that's adored the world over. The wonky, abstract "Ad Libitum 80" is a super dope, swirling, staccato electro-funk bounce which sounds light years ahead of its time. This might be the real lowkey sleeper gem on this record. CHECK! This remarkable LP rounds out with the huge "Dancin' Machine". It's got sleek drums that emit an absolutely ace swagger and elements of Italo synth funk feels. A relaxed, slow rhythm throughout ensures you can't help but get your funk on when this crashes soundsystems. We'll leave the final word on this to Daniel: "It amuses me to think that my son Thomas was influenced by "Dancin’ Machine" for "Around The World", he says. Both songs being based on an hypnotic repetitive refrain. Both songs being, of course, timeless pieces of Euro genius.

Who's Who really is a fantastic late-70s-early 80s roller disco-funk essential. The audio has been carefully remastered by Be With regular Simon Francis, ensuring it sounds better than ever. Cicely Balston's expert skills have made sure nothing is lost in the cut whilst the records have been pressed to the highest possible standard at Record Industry in Holland.

When it came to the sleeve for this we were presented with an unusual problem: we usually have to rely on an original sleeve as the starting point for the restoration, but instead we were able to scan the original 35mm transparency of the front cover photo. The problem is that with a modern scanner the results were far sharper than when they made the original sleeve. We’ve played around with the exposure and the colour grading but we’re sorry to say that our version of the front cover still ended up looking too good! Don’t hate us.

An imperial phase Actress commits a lushly amorphous installation piece made for the Berliner Festspiele to vinyl, rendering a post-industrial symphony full of iridescent shifts in gyring, OOBE-like spatial coordinates landing somewhere between nutopian ambient, kankyō ongaku and sawn-off bass science.

‘Grey Interiors’ was made in collaboration with Actual Objects and is an absorbing animation and navigation of those post-human ideals that have prompted Darren J. Cunningham to his best work across the preceding two decades. In its hypnagogic symphony of the elements, he short-circuits distinctions of classical music’s metric freedoms and the hyperspatial sensuality of concrète/electro-acoustic and ambient musics with an artistic license that has come to distinguish his work in the contemporary field, and arguably identified him as this generation’s most vital electronic abstractionist.

The first half of the album is bewitchingly airless, materialised in a twinkling vacuum. Naturalistic environmental recordings and a half-heard piano swirl around nauseous airlock whooshes and eerie bass drones. It's all pulverised to a powdery, shimmering residue; if Actress's music is defined by its character and texture - that sweet spot between the bedroom and the soundsystem - then this one advances the narrative without losing its backbone. And like a lot of his best work, it comes into its own on the back of zonked eyelids, conjuring a play of shifting geometric patterns within its imaginary physics and nuanced narration of ephemeral melodic phrasing and vaporous textures.

At about the halfway point, that dissociated piano finds its groove, coalescing into a jerky drum machine rhythm popping like bubbles in the stifling atmosphere. We can draw some intersecting lines here thru electronic music lore - traces of vintage AE, Push Button Objects, UR - but Actress always leaves an indelible fingerprint on anything he touches. Even when he's rubbing against the gallery-industrial complex, he manages to fill a stagnant space with electricity and wit; look at the title itself: is it a reference to the "landscape beyond man" as the installation's press release might have us believe, or the institutions themselves?

T. Gowdy returns with a major statement and luminous stylistic expansion on his third album for Constellation. Trill Scan is an exquisite suite of songs literally and figuratively about alchemy, where Gowdy melds his background in choral and medieval music with his trademark analogue electronics. Following the acclaimed Miracles (Bleep Album of the Week / Albums of the Year 2022), Gowdy's bar-raising new LP centers human voice for the first time. Choral set-pieces and solo lead vocals, along with his own lute playing, are novel elements in Gowdy's work, and draw on strains of Middle Ages polyphony and the Baroque "broken style" to further distinguish Trill Scan from anything in his discography to date. Gowdy sees "the modal language of medieval Europe as a less distant cousin to indigenous traditional music practice" compared to a Classical-colonial "patriarchal order of tonality that honours a system of domination." The 12th century Notre Dame School of choral music and 17th century style brisé each carry tonal materiality, heterodox technique, and cultural-historical symbolism central to Trill Scan's conceptual and compositional alchemy. Gowdy coheres these beautifully into his palette of serpentine slowburn electronics, a minimal analogue-driven techno shaped by aleatory strategies and tinged with post-punk grit. Gowdy's sound has been aptly described as "gently transportative, flickering like a busted halogen lamp" and his overriding pursuit of psychoacoustic immanence likened to "getting your brain massaged" and praised as "blissful work that bristles with effervescent energy, like brain waves coming in and out of focus." Trill Scan expands this sonic sensibility with more conspicuous harmonic complexity, stylistic variety, and humanistic narrative arc. Alternately sacramental and intimately personal vocals, sometimes wordless and sometimes lyrical, are worked into superlative instrumental tracks, yielding a warmly immersive concept album that's equally Gowdy's most musical. Gowdy sings explicitly of alchemy on the hypnotic album centerpiece "Novus Lumen" with lyrics that gesture at these medieval processes of material investigation. The tension between the scientific and esoteric is crucial; the separation and synthesis of physical substances in medieval alchemy maps onto his fixation with the interplay between the materiality of sound and psychoacoustics. Gowdy follows the Jungian interpretation of classic alchemical texts as an historical bridge to theories of the psyche, where consciousness itself is treated as materiality and similarly subjected to methodical analysis and experimentation, to deconstruction, dissolution, transformation, reintegration, metamorphosis. Song titles like "Arislei Bone" and "Materiadiscipuli" further reference these mythopoetic throughlines from medieval alchemy to modern psychology. Gowdy chooses disruptive forms from the history of Western music that symbolize and prefigure the modern psychological subject and its struggle for/against order, even as they also evoke liturgy and the Renaissance court. The sacramental adds a potent dimension to his pursuit of psychoacoustic activation, meditation, and transcendence, as choral passages intersperse with electronic drone and pointillism throughout the album. His gorgeous Fennesz-meets-lute rendition of the Baroque composition "Courante" by François Dufault offers idiomatic salon-secular counterpoint. Album closer "Strewn" is bookended by a final recurrence of choral invocation, with pulsing earworm motorik techno in between, over which Gowdy whisper-sings a dreamlike vision quest of mythic-alchemical imagery: "as I washed my eyes they turned to metal / and the memories melted to the metal / the metal of my heart." A mesmerizing final song that explicitly invokes Gowdy's search for materialized abstraction and substantive musical immanence wrought from his own psycho-therapeutic subjectivity, and encapsulates the album's turn towards more harmonic, historicized, and humanistic elements. Trill Scan commingles empyrean and earthly electronic songcraft to genuinely original and absorbing effect. Thanks for listening. RIYL: Coil, Nicolás Jaar, Alessandro Cortini, Pantha Du Prince, Fennesz, Visible Cloaks, Actress,

"Sirene" is the second album of the duo composed by Stefano Ghittoni (TheDining Rooms, Le Petit) and Bruno Dorella (Ovo, Ronin, Sigillum S), following their 2019 release "Estatico."This composition explores a captivating territory where the artists has been working for many years, combining experimental techniques with inviting elements from different genres of popular and underground music.

The album starts with ethereal and ambient electroacoustic sounds, gradually incorporating subtle rhythms, arpeggiations, and slightly broken beats. It creates a moody and introspective sonic landscape that maintains a sense of abstraction. This is enhanced by the textural complexity derived from various sources such as samples, tape manipulations, field recordings, and unconventional sounds woven together with traditional instruments.
The album encompasses a range of electronic practices, psychedelic minimalism, and dense ambience, with a touch of shoegaze, resulting in a truly beautiful experience.

Jacob Long’s fourth full-length for Kranky began as a notion to reimagine Earthen Sea as a “piano trio,” inspired by a year-long immersion in the ECM label catalog, but the compositions soon grew more complex.

Elements were chopped and resampled, then layered with bass, drums, percussion, and additional keys. The result is a fusion of live band acoustics and downtempo loops, sculpted into nine smoke-and-mirror dubs of fractured jazz, soft-focus noir, and trip-hop dust: Recollection.

Like the title implies, Long’s playing and production share a mood of pensive movement, shuffling and rippling like uncertain memories at strange hours.

From looming fog (“Present Day,” “Neon Ruins”) and shadowy breaks (“Another Space,” “Cloudy Vagueness”) to rosy glows (“Clear Photograph”) and smeared reverie (“White Sky”), Recollection deftly wields its palette of gradient color and subdued states of beauty.

His is a music of reduction and reflection, kinetic but oblique, attuned to the silhouettes of sound.

Les Disques Bongo Joe is reissuing Au Revoir, the debut album by Société Étrange, originally released in 2015 on the Lyon-based label S.K. Records, and now considered a cult classic. This Lyon trio, composed of Antoine Bellini (electronics), Romain Hervault (bass), and later joined by Jonathan Grandcollot (percussion), explores a minimalist instrumental soundscape, where repetition and tension play a central role.

Au Revoir was created with a raw and intuitive approach, mostly composed during the group’s earliest days. At the time, Antoine and Romain were working as a duo, experimenting with drum machines and electronic sounds inspired by the post-punk of the 80s, the robotic grooves of Neu! and Cluster, and the DIY spirit of early hip-hop. The result is a music that is both hypnotic and introspective, where the presence and absence of sonic elements balance with minimal precision. Between electronic layers and winding bass lines, the tracks move forward like on a foggy road, uncertain but captivating.

For this reissue, Société Étrange offers two new recordings. One of them is a revisited version of Voiturin à Phynance, renamed Voiturin à Fifinance for the occasion, with Jonathan Grandcollot now fully integrated into the group. His percussive style, both organic and melodic, has profoundly transformed the group’s sonic dynamics, adding richness and texture to this new version. The previously unreleased track Blanchard completes the edition, offering another facet of their universe, more spontaneous and free.

This reissue is more than just a re-release of an out-of-print album. It is a testament to the evolution of Société Étrange, a group that blurs genre boundaries, seamlessly blending post-punk, krautrock, dub, and electronic minimalism. With Au Revoir, the trio crafts a singular instrumental sound, where each note seems to carry a unique weight and intention, borrowing equally from abstraction and narrative.

Limited edition pressing - 50 copies come with one page insert. Download code included.

The album Sonic Mystics for Poems (of Life and Death of a Phoenix) by Andrea Burelli is a work that masterfully blends traditional musical languages with the formal and conceptual sensibilities of contemporary music. It offers a profound reflection on the life-death-life cycle, centered on poetic texts that oscillate between human-sensitive experience and the mythical journey of a phoenix, a metaphor of this circular and infinite reality.

The work, which includes a collaboration with musicians from the renowned Solistenensemble Kaleidoskop, stands out for its clear influence from classical Western music and modal traditions, as well as experimental electronics. Composed for voices, strings, synthesizers, and drum machines, this music features a minimalist tapestry of polyphonies, enhanced by sophisticated electronic elements and a diverse array of rhythmic articulations.

Field Notes describes Andrea Burelli as a versatile artist capable of embodying a multitude of roles, from poet to composer, musician, and singer, emphasizing how her work reflects this versatility by ¨combining elements of art song, contemporary music, pop, and electronic sounds.¨ According to Groove Magazine, this LP evokes neoclassical chamber music and an imagined Italian folklore, aligning with contemporary explorations of modern vocal abstractions, similar to the work of artists like Marina Herlop, stating that: “This is how the new and the good emerge.”

Furthermore, the music has received positive feedback from internationally acclaimed artists such as Rashad Becker, who, in addition to being the mastering engineer of the project, describes it as "pure and honest"; James Young of Darkstar calls it "bold and innovative"; while Eartheater (PAN), Rabih Beaini, and Gigi Masin have praised it as "beautiful."

It’s abundantly clear from the first bars of their 5th studio album Through Other Reflection, that this is, and could only ever be, The Soundcarriers. From the enchanting vocal duets of folk-bidden Chanteuses Leonore Wheatley and Dorian Conway; to the precise bass lines of Paul Isherwood and the limber, jazz-cool, Hal Blaine-esque drums of his his co-songwriter Adam Cann; from the fairy-like flutes, 60s-garage guitars and organ sounds pilfered from the archives of exotica - listening to the Soundcarriers resembles a rediscovery of all the most prized, esoteric corners of the 1960s, all bundled up, warped and refracted through the quartet’s astutely modern cultural lens. Channelling Tropicalia, Middle Eastern psychedelic Jazz/Funk, The French Library sounds of Nino Nardini, and a whole host of lavish obscurites beside, Through Other Reflection delivers another sonic adventure from one of the most unique and distinctive voices of British Psychedelia. After an 8 year wait for their album 4 - 2022’s Wilds - it thankfully didn’t take so long for the follow-up this time round. In many ways, this feels like a companion to Wilds; recording again at their Nottingham warehouse studio, Through Other Reflection retains that same organic glow, all the passions and imperfections of a tightly clipped unit jamming out these living, breathing pop-art nuggets as if straight onto the acetate.”We wanted to keep an air of spontaneity with this album and not get too bogged with the recording process”, explains Cann, “It was more a case of getting the songs as tightly written and arranged as possible first so we could get them down quickly in the studio. It always takes longer than you think” Less packed with strident pop hooks as its predecessor however, the music of Through… has been given extra licence to breathe, stretch out, and wander more uncharted terrains. While gleaming psych-pop of tracks like ‘The City Was’, or ‘Already Over’ confidently carry on from where they left off, from the album’s 2nd track ‘Always’, the trip becomes a little less predictable. Starting out as a smoky Procol Harum-meets-French-Psych organ ballad, the music drifts, as if of its own accord into an eerie, garage trance that lingers, cycles, and hypnotises, growing ever stranger, reaching ever-further away from its point of conception. And almost every track on Through Other Reflections holds that outer-body moment, where the band fix themselves on a limber, lysergic groove, lose all grip on time and reality, and melt themselves away into a liquid state of blind euphoria. There are sequences on this record that feel more like rituals than songs, built upon a single hypnotic rhythm which, like the centre of a vortex, pulling everything under its beatific command. Take the finale to ‘What We Found’ for instance, sounding like a ghostly march across the psychedelic moors, or ‘Feel The Way’, where a single athletic drum-loop rises and rises, growing ever more urgent and suspenseful underneath its frantic harpsichords and rasping flutes. Full of such rich stylisms as these, The Soundcarriers showcase themselves as abstract storytellers par excellence by virtue of their textures and arrangements alone. Resembling Romantic composer Maurice Ravel, but if he had just a four-piece rock band at his disposal, Through Other Reflects is rich with detail; there’s shakers, rattles, clarinets, booming drums; there’s synthesiser swarms, chiming xylophones, vintage organs and experimental Cluster & Eno-esque ambiences. Within all this nuance the music flows like some undisclosed narrative swathed in a magnetic secrecy. “It almost comes across like a story in some ways”, says Cann of the album, “the music is quite sectional with elements of exotica and cinematic type layers, it's a good balance of grooves, tunes and weirdness”. No more is this “epic cinematic feel” heard more proudly than on short instrumental ‘Sonya’s Lament” - its innate, hauntological atmospheres befitting a Peter Strickland soundtrack, or the classics of Lex Baxter, the so-called ‘Founder of Exotica’ himself. On the other hand, providing a greasier undercurrent to all these bucolic sounds is a leaning towards a more “direct” lyricism referencing more “external concerns. Laying down the first tracks for the album in the wintry gloom of pre-lockdown 2020, and drawing inspiration from time spent in Berlin, Through Other Reflections returns to some of the post-apocalyptic futurism explored in 2014’s Entropicalia - a loose concept album inspired by J.G Ballard’s The Drowned World. “The songs explore a disillusionment with the way things are going particularly after 40 years of neoliberalism”, says Cann, “They follow that folk-song tradition of wanting to escape to an imagined time, but here it’s more urban than pastoral. The first couple of ideas I came up with when doing some music in Berlin and had some time to wander aimlessly. And think the atmosphere seeped in, particularly on The City Was and Already Over. He continues, “One aspect of the title, ‘Through Other Reflections’ is about synthesis and layers of influence. How things can be filtered through other things and change the perspective. This is something you get in cities as well.” Though, as with everything The Soundcarriers make, “It can mean anything. It also just sounds kind of cool.”

This one is highly recommended for fans of Khruangbin, Lord Echo, Leon Bridges or Fat Freddy's Drop.

Open is the sixth studio album from acclaimed composer, producer, filmmaker and multi-instrumentalist, Kutiman. It is an addictive & irresistible twelve-track trip taking in elements of classic soul, Middle Eastern psychedelia, Afrobeat, Thai funk, jazz fusion, cosmic library soundscapes and more.

The uptempo “Vanishing Point” opens proceedings, recalling both Abstract Orchestra’s 2017 Dilla tribute and the lounge OST/library music flips of Tosca and DJ Vadim fame.

My Everything introduces prominent guest & frequent Kutiman collaborator, Dekel, whose soul-pop vocals coupled with jangly acoustic guitar riffs tip to contemporary indie artists such as Michael Kiwanuka and SAULT. “A Day Off passes through” Anatolian psych and Khruangbin-esque Thai funk whilst the afrobeat/jazz fusion “Confetti” pays tribute to Kutiman’s other namesake, Fela Kuti.

Dekel rejoins for the beatdown, lilting dub-soul “Believe In You” with hints of Lord Echo and the sun-inflected New Zealand dub-soul sound. The Tuareg-leaning guitar lines on “Canoe” travel across the Saharan desert easterly towards Sudan and Ethiopia by the end, whilst meditative and Coltrane-adjacent album closer “Ripples” provides a final moment of reflection from a truly global excursion of soundscapes.

Who is Isabelle Lewis, anyway?

What kind of music does she make? Is she an opera singer? Does she write pop songs? Does she compose ethereal ambient soundscapes? Does she play chamber music on the violin? Is she producing dark, electronic beats?

Well… yes. But Isabelle Lewis is not so much a person as a project. Isabelle’s debut album, Greetings, credits a trio of composer–performers at its heart: producer Valgeir Sigurðsson, vocalist Benjamin Abel Meirhaeghe, and violinist Elisabeth Klinck. The sound of the elusive Isabelle Lewis is heard most clearly in the push and pull between them, the three-way tension that gives the album its musical and emotional drive.

Each of the three brings more to the collaboration than those epithets might imply. Elisabeth’s solo performance practice incorporates composition, improvisation, live electronics, and a close command of bowing and fingering techniques that make her fiddle sing, whisper or whistle as required. Benjamin is a self-taught countertenor - keening, crooning, and swelling to a voluptuous sensuality—but also an interdisciplinary stage director and performer. Well known for his work as a producer and studio collaborator, and as a composer of scores for film and stage, Valgeir’s solo discography interweaves meticulously crafted electronics, drones, noise, and other digital elements with acoustic instruments and vocals recorded with naked, unflinching clarity.

But the extravagant theatricality Benjamin brings to the aptly titled “Drama”—also featuring a heroic violin solo from Elisabeth—grapples against the thudding bass of the implacable digital backdrop. On “Mother, Shelter Me” Valgeir’s austere and detailed production throws the hushed violin and vocals into stark relief. The result is an exquisitely uncanny juxtaposition of past and present, human and mechanical, like a Rococo treasure viewed under cold fluorescent lights, or an 18th-century automaton slowly opening its clockwork eyes.

Even the lyrics seem somehow out of time. On “O Solitude,” Benjamin goes so far as to quote an entire song by the first great English opera composer, Henry Purcell, verbatim. No stranger to Purcell’s music, which has made its way into Benjamin’s theatrical productions as well, here Isabelle Lewis removes Purcell’s melodies and harmonies and sets the text, Katherine Phillips’s 17th century translation of a poem by Antoine Girard de Saint-Amant, to new music whose heightened, archaic character nevertheless seems haunted by Baroque ghosts.

Throughout the album, the outsized emotions and timeless archetypes of Benjamin’s lyrics feel like relics from some half-forgotten past—from the neatly rhymed couplets of “Fisherman,” a seemingly straightforward (but still somewhat askew) character study, to the abstraction of “Moonshell,” whose words seem like the fragments of some ancient, lost lament. It is just another of many ways in which Isabelle Lewis carefully distorts the listener’s notions of time. On a more micro level, time can stop for a moment of weightless, drifting ambience, and then plunge forward as the cloud of harmonies suddenly lock into tempo with the drop of the bass or the change of a chord. Or else that weightless moment is allowed to be, as in the aptly named prologue and epilogue to these Greetings (“Voicemail”/“…and farewell”), or in the interstitial tracks that bind the album together, connecting its dramatic peaks with expanses of meditative stasis.

The album as a whole is elegantly shaped, swelling from an intimate, interpersonal statement into something deeper and more spacious. The first half of the album leans slightly towards self-contained pop songcraft and ticking beats, while side B jumps off from “O Solitude” into the almost symphonic grandeur of songs like “Moonshell” or the instrumental “Not the water, air, or the dirt.”

But as it progresses, the contrasts only grow more sublime: antique and postmodern, human and machinelike. The ominous weight of the droning sub-bass and trombone (guest player Helgi Hrafn Jónsson) only makes the interplay between vocals and violins (guest player Daniel Pioro joining Elisabeth) seem more delicate and vulnerable. The ethereal string tremolos of “Moonshell” seem to pull against the heavy, shuddering electronics and layers of crooning vocals.

And that, in short, is where you will find Isabelle Lewis. Like an ancient stone archway, or a delicate house of cards, the architecture of Greetings is held together by the tension between opposing forces. Not just in Elisabeth’s playing, Benjamin’s singing, or Valgeir’s arrangements and production but in the conflict and contrast that generates the synergy between them.

Oh—Isabelle says hi, by the way. She’s looking forward to meeting you.

The Blues and the Abstract Truth is not just a landmark album in Oliver Nelson's career but in the history of jazz itself

The album features an incredible ensemble of top-tier jazz musicians, often referred to as a "supergroup": Oliver Nelson (alto saxophone, tenor saxophone), Freddie Hubbard (trumpet), Eric Dolphy (alto saxophone, flute), George Barrow (baritone saxophone), Bill Evans (piano), Paul Chambers (bass), Roy Haynes (drums). The early 1960s were marked by a shift from the hard bop of the 1950s to more experimental forms, including modal jazz, free jazz, and the incorporation of avant-garde elements. Musicians like John Coltrane, Ornette Coleman, and Charles Mingus were all pushing the boundaries of jazz, and Oliver Nelson's work fits within this broader movement: in this album there's a perfect combination of modern compositional techniques, virtuosic performances, and emotional depth make it an essential listening experience for any jazz fan. It captures the moment when jazz was evolving into new, exciting directions while staying connected to its roots in the blues. The Blues and the Abstract Truth is considered one of the essential albums in modern jazz where Oliver Nelson's compositional style blends hard bop, modal jazz, and blues influences with sophisticated harmonic structures and striking arrangements. The album is noted for ts rich orchestration despite having a relatively small ensemble with use of textures and colours, particularly in tracks like "Stolen Moments," created a new standard in azz arranging.

On alene et, Michaela Turcerová, a Copenhagen-based, Slovakia born musician, takes minutiae — the tiniest scrapes and breathiest hums — and distorts them into sprawling, collaged webs that barely resemble the instrument in its natural state. Each shard, when pieced together, makes a rhythmic, undulating sound born from the subtlest motions.

Alene et marks Turcerová’s debut as a soloist, putting a spotlight on the exploratory approach she has developed on her own and across a variety of collaborations. She has long studied the quiet excavation of her instrument, pulling it apart to find a new vocabulary. To develop this language, she unearths shards of sound from the instrument, muting it or bringing out its scratchiness and grittiness. Primarily working with open-ended scores and improvisation, she is inspired by various percussive music, looking to deep sonic awareness to guide her. As a soloist, her music harkens to the abstracted electronics present across the Editions Mego catalog or the distorted ruminations of Nyege Nyege tapes. And no matter where she goes, she is constantly in the pursuit of the unknown — the hidden elements of music that come to life through experimentation and listening.

With alene et, Turcerová presents her singular language on the saxophone to the fullest. To make this music, she placed many microphones close to her instrument, zeroing in to each sound and examining it from multiple different angles. She emphasizes the percussive possibilities of her instrument, puzzle-piecing each note into pulsating webs. Each track highlights a different side of the saxophone — the bristling distortion and amplification of a column of air as it blows through her saxophone’s body, the trickling tapping of the keys as she places her fingers onto them.

At its core, alene et presents Turcerová’s curiosity. The saxophone lives many different lives within her hands, shapeshifting through the uncovering of its possibilities. She shows us how the instrument is an ever-changing entity, a distorted and blown out drone with a thousand shards poking out from inside of it. But more than just a showcase of an individual instrument, alene et feels like a statement of the act of exploration. Turcerová is an excavator, always looking for new worlds hidden within her saxophone, and leaving room for more to come alive with each listen.

The sea has long been central to Japanese culture, symbolizing both sustenance and spiritual depth. Charles A.D.'s Deep Diver draws inspiration from this, channeling the ancient traditions of diving and fishing into his music. Historically, the sea has influenced everything from Shinto rituals to the livelihoods of coastal communities. In Deep Diver, this reverence flows through aquatic soundscapes, where rhythmic waves of 90s house and Detroit techno meet Japanese minimal production techniques, New Age and Pacific Jazz. Like the tides, the album ebbs and flows, creating a serene yet dynamic homage to the timeless connection between Japan and the sea.
The opening track 'Deep Diver' plunges into the depths, its abstract sound design capturing the sensation of deep-sea propulsion. Rhythmic bubbles pulse gently alongside slow-moving chords, creating an otherworldly atmosphere. The textures are lush yet restrained, setting a tranquil stage that pulls the listener into a submerged world. 'Underwater Ruins' builds on this aquatic theme, introducing rhythmic layers and bass-heavy notes reminiscent of mid-90s Japanese ambient techno. The smooth, melodic flow nods to pioneers like Mr.YT and Susumu Yokota, while subtly incorporating the Detroit techno influence through soulful, deep basslines.
The track feels like a fusion of ambient and techno, balancing serene tones with a rolling groove, emblematic of Japanese techno soul. As the album progresses into 'Bubble Ring', it becomes clear that Charles A.D. is a master of minimalism. The production is timeless, leaning
on analog techniques where echo-drenched chords and carefully layered soundscapes take on an addictive, hypnotic quality. The simplicity of the composition is deceptive, as each element carries weight, drawing the listener deeper into the rhythm and space between the notes.
'Merperson' is where organic rhythms truly come into play. Charles A.D. gently evolves the patterns, allowing each percussive hit to flow naturally into the next. Soothing melodies emerge from within the track’s structure, eventually reaching an emotional peak without ever feeling forced. The organic nature of the arrangement creates an effortless progression that feels deeply connected to the natural movement of water.Starting the second half with 'Deep Exploration', the theme of underwater excursions becomes even more pronounced. Light, steady drumming anchors the track, allowing the melodic layers
to develop gradually. It unfolds with a calm, measured pace, before ending softly, almost as if the sounds are drifting off into the oceanic depths. 'Diffuse Reflection' stands out as the most dub house-influenced on the album, with rolling rhythms and hypnotic elements reminiscent of Maurizio's deep, pulsing sound. Yet here, the production feels submerged, with aquatic effects swirling around the rhythmic core, blending dub house with a fluid, oceanic touch. 'Traitors' delves even deeper into dub-inspired territory. Deep, resonant bass hits combine with wooden drums, while static-like sounds evoke the image of a radio tuning through static to find clarity.
Chords shimmer briefly before fading back into the liquid depths, evoking the ebb and flow of the tide. The final track on Deep Diver 'Levitation', is a fitting conclusion, as the rhythms merge and overlap like waves gently lapping the shore. The minimalistic arrangement allows each element to blend effortlessly into the next, creating a sense of unity and closure. The sounds move with the gentle grace of water, ending the album in a way that feels both complete and
open-ended, like the infinite motion of the sea.

mindSET is the ninth album from enigmatic producer SW., directly following this summer’s excursion into his trademark techno, IDM and bleep soundscapes, on the myDEFINITIONS Vol II album. But with his mindSET album SW. takes a left turn, as pioneers often do, and we find ourselves on the lesser traveled side roads of electronic music history. Or in SW.’s own words: “the more abstract leftfield elements.”
It’s in these less-defined areas that SW. finds his sweet spot, building dancefloor soundtracks that defied definition. And with mindSET the sounds and the machines might have changed, the methodology remains the same.
“It draws from what was more generally seen in leftfield as a term for the slightly off-kilter house and broken beats that didn’t fit neatly into classic genres, whether that was Chicago house, French garage, drum and bass, or broken beat. It’s more about those in-between sounds that never really took off, only appearing briefly in the early to mid-90s and then quickly disappearing. There was a certain magic in that moment, which I wanted to capture. Also, the entire album was produced using classic analog equipment, with old machines that were used during that era. That’s the approach I’ve taken.”
The eight tracks on mindSET are shaped out of de-tuned techno pop synths and heavy, syncopated drums, grooving along chopped-up polymeters to create an eerie mood, as if orbiting an undiscovered planet for the first time. The harmonic movements are often bent out of shape, sometimes veering towards Gherkin Jerks or Cristian Vogel territory. But in the end, the sounds are less important than the atmosphere, and the tracks represent an attitude or an approach - to creating the music as well as experiencing it. mindSET is a nod to those dancers sharing an oddball moment, and for those of us on the same wavelength, it's a vibe we can all get inside.

Combining the signature soundscapes of Scorn with tartareous textures, the current album "The Only Place" reaches a psychedelic groove, based on what Harris calls "Pushing an original idea further" with his own shades of light and dark and celestial electricity of what SCORN is. These 10 tracks add elements unheard in Scorn since Evanescense and Gyral - ethereal ambiences and floating, near-melodic-but-not-quite moments, a signature of Harris' abilities to generate feelings in a lost world of his own creation. Mick Harris is one of the world's greatest compositional treasures. Starting his career as the energy dynamo behind the drum kit of the UK's Napalm Death, he made the term Blastbeat a household reference, wrote the band's music on his mother's one string guitar, and joined the Guinness Book of World Records for composing the world's shortest song. In the decades succeeding, he has re-inventedmusic several more times, from the wild abstract jazz of Painkiller with John Zorn and Bill Laswell, to the drowning ambience of his Lull project, all while continuing to build a world that he can truly call his own - the dark post-dub of SCORN. "Reaching 54 this year - this won't stop the challenge, driving me more so now than ever" - says Mick Harris, commenting on the recent phase in his creativity. The pandemic isolation and lockdown pushed the work of the maestro more than anything else could have. In 2021, his output is ever-increasing, releasing the newest collabs with Justin K. Broadrick and the single "Distortion", featuring one of the most outstanding voices of hip-hop - Kool Keith - his closest collaborator, Ohm Resistance founder - Submerged. Commenting on the release of "Distortion", Mick Harris said to mxdwn: "I enjoy collabs - they bring something different to the swim." Working on his own and collaborating with everyone from Sleaford Mods' James Williamson, on the previous SCORN release or with Kool Keith and Submerged on "Distortion", Mick Harris never had problems with putting energy into beats and sound landscapes, combining various surreal elements with three basic elements that always push Harris further, that are extremely crucial for both Mick Harris and SCORN as a project - frustration, anger and anxiety. 2024 vinyl version on orange coloured vinyl!

Coming out on September 6th on Sharptone Records, Sundiver is Boston Manor’s fifth album and one that represents a glimmering dawn for the Blackpool five-piece. Grown from a seedbed of optimism and sobriety, the LP celebrates new beginnings, second chances and rebirth. With two members recently stepping into fatherhood, hope is baked into every note. “Datura came out of these really dark few years over the hangover of the pandemic,” Henry reflects. “I'd been struggling a lot with drinking and not taking care of myself and bad mental health and stuff. We wanted Sundiver to be the next morning of the following day.” He explains that it feels good this time round to write through the lens of positivity. “The themes began to emerge, of rebirth, spring, dawn, sunshine and then other elements just started to fit into that.” It was during the making of Sundiver that Henry found out he was going to be a dad. This album is a significant one for the band. Originally coming out of the emo and pop punk scene, they’ve explored sonics and genres throughout their career, taken risks and achieved more than they could ever had dreamed of. They’ve grown up as Boston Manor – their lives and the world changing around them. They’re now taking stock, at a crossroads of the band they were and the band they could be.
While writing the album, they revisited the bands that shaped them in the late 90s and early 00s. “I was listening to the music I loved when I was a teenager and I just thought, why don't we make music like our favourite bands?”, guitarist Mike Cuniff remembers with a smile. “So we brought our interests to the table that way. Y2K kind of vibe. There are elements of Deftones, there are elements of Portishead in there, some Garbage, The Cardigans.” He laughs and adds NSYNC to the list of inspirations. From this cocktail of classics comes a dynamic and ambitious record, rich with depth, groove and more hooks than Peter Pan’s nightmares. Lyrics that foxtrot from parallel universes to personal growth, vivid dreamscapes to raw grief. Individually they’re single strokes full of meaning and magic. Together they’re a landscape.
Container (out Feb 15th) is the first single and it’s them at their best – impassioned and infectious. “This song is about the stagnancy of life creeping up on you & how that can bring about change.,” Henry explains, citing Ocean Song by US band Daughters as an inspiration.

The concept of the butterfly effect is present on Sundiver – how small actions can lead to big changes. This is no clearer than on their second single, Sliding Doors (out April 5th). It has the golden sound of late 90s Lollapalooza rock – think Smashing Pumpkins - rebooted with crisp 2024 production and a potent heaviness. In the lyrics Henry wonders, what if?, pondering on what could be. The idea that there are infinite versions of you whose lives splinter off in different directions at every decision you make. That there’s another you out there somewhere right now reading this sentence, and another me writing it. “So much is down to chance and circumstance,” Henry says. “You might catch that train and your life totally changes. Or you might miss it and things stay the way they are.”
Heat Me Up (out May 30th) is defiant and victorious, the audio equivalent of quitting your shit job and driving into the hot summer sun with a head full of dreams. “The lyrics are about love and gratitude,” Henry shares. “Another theme on the record is just appreciating what you have. It’s about not taking for granted the things that you've been afforded.”
There was some natural magic in the creation of Sundiver. They worked with their usual producer, Larry Hibbitt, and engineer, Alex O’Donovan, but instead of recording in London again they ended up in the green pastures of Welwyn Garden City. “Because Larry lives out in the countryside now, it was a way different environment and way different experience recording this time,” Mike remembers. “That contributed a lot to the brighter sound of the record.” The daily barbecues they had during their recording sessions imbued the process with harmony – five old friends spending quality time together and making quality music.
However, the album is by no means one-note. Birthing this new world they’ve created wasn’t without it’s pain, and that can be heard in the heavier moments on Sundiver. What Is Taken Will Never Be Lost is the most-stripped back on the album, a slow rock number seasoned with the downtempo Portishead influence. The heartfelt lyrics are Henry’s way of processing the loss of his grandfather, who died in a hospice last year(?). “It was just fucking horrible. It was always cold when I went there and they were always trying to get rid of me. The song title, What Was Taken Can Ever Be Lost, is the idea of his memory fading at the time because of dementia.” Henry goes onto explain that shoeboxes of photographs, diaries and a legacy is what he’s left behind. “He lived a really rich life and it has really impacted me and my father. His legacy is etched into the fabric of history in a very small way.” This song continues the connection between his grandfather and the band, as his painted face is emblazoned on the cover of the very first Boston Manor EP, Driftwood. As well as emotionally heavy themes, there’s heaviness in the music of Sundiver too. The closing song, Oil In My Blood, descends into an intense shoegaze outro with Debbie Gough from Heriot screaming hellfire. It’s in moments like this that the band show us aggression and fury can be as much a part of positive change as quiet introspection. The last lyrics of the song, “It resets and starts again,” leaves us in contemplation as the final chord rings out.
Touring the US, Europe and Japan over the years makes for an impressive CV, but if you know anything about Boston Manor you’ll know that they’re all about their hometown. Their choice to work with Blackpool-based photographer Nick Barkworth is testament to that. They’ve been working with him since the pandemic. “He captures Blackpool in a light that really reflects the weirdness and quirkiness of the town,” Henry says.” He's got a really good way of presenting that.” For the Sundiver cover, Nick photographed a 30ft tall abstract glass sculpture made by the local artist John Ditchfield. A striking and bewitching monolith that’s familiar to them but unusual to most people. “It has such kind of a gravity and power to it,” Henry describes the sculpture which stands in a field just outside of the seaside town. “It reminds me of either an explosion or a star or a supernova. To me it represents new life, power and radiance.” Boston Manor have got a knack for that - connecting the otherworldly and the everyday, the stars and the streets.
They’re a band known for using their music to make bigger statements about society. This time round they’re harnessing the uplifting power of music, and the communion it creates, as an antidote to the daily doom and isolation. “It seems like absolute chaos out there at the moment,” Henry says. “You’ve got Gaza and Israel, you've got Russia, you've got the fact that 40% of the world is going to have an election this year and increasingly most governments are leaning very far to the Right. The internet is dividing everybody, people are getting poorer and more desperate. It's really, really scary.” They considered trying to tackle the weight of it all in their music. “We could’ve written Welcome to the Neighbourhood on steroids, where it's just absolute darkness and misery”. He’s referring to their 2018 concept album that deals with class, inequality and the bleaker side of Blackpool. “But I think it's really important to write something that people can be immersed in and find some sort of solace in. Somewhere they can escape to from the modern day pressures and everything that’s going on. We’re all in this together.”

It’s abundantly clear from the first bars of their 5th studio album Through Other Reflection, that this is, and could only ever be, The Soundcarriers. From the enchanting vocal duets of folk-bidden Chanteuses Leonore Wheatley and Dorian Conway; to the precise bass lines of Paul Isherwood and the limber, jazz-cool, Hal Blaine-esque drums of his his co-songwriter Adam Cann; from the fairy-like flutes, 60s-garage guitars and organ sounds pilfered from the archives of exotica - listening to the Soundcarriers resembles a rediscovery of all the most prized, esoteric corners of the 1960s, all bundled up, warped and refracted through the quartet’s astutely modern cultural lens. Channelling Tropicalia, Middle Eastern psychedelic Jazz/Funk, The French Library sounds of Nino Nardini, and a whole host of lavish obscurites beside, Through Other Reflection delivers another sonic adventure from one of the most unique and distinctive voices of British Psychedelia. After an 8 year wait for their album 4 - 2022’s Wilds - it thankfully didn’t take so long for the follow-up this time round. In many ways, this feels like a companion to Wilds; recording again at their Nottingham warehouse studio, Through Other Reflection retains that same organic glow, all the passions and imperfections of a tightly clipped unit jamming out these living, breathing pop-art nuggets as if straight onto the acetate.”We wanted to keep an air of spontaneity with this album and not get too bogged with the recording process”, explains Cann, “It was more a case of getting the songs as tightly written and arranged as possible first so we could get them down quickly in the studio. It always takes longer than you think” Less packed with strident pop hooks as its predecessor however, the music of Through… has been given extra licence to breathe, stretch out, and wander more uncharted terrains. While gleaming psych-pop of tracks like ‘The City Was’, or ‘Already Over’ confidently carry on from where they left off, from the album’s 2nd track ‘Always’, the trip becomes a little less predictable. Starting out as a smoky Procol Harum-meets-French-Psych organ ballad, the music drifts, as if of its own accord into an eerie, garage trance that lingers, cycles, and hypnotises, growing ever stranger, reaching ever-further away from its point of conception. And almost every track on Through Other Reflections holds that outer-body moment, where the band fix themselves on a limber, lysergic groove, lose all grip on time and reality, and melt themselves away into a liquid state of blind euphoria. There are sequences on this record that feel more like rituals than songs, built upon a single hypnotic rhythm which, like the centre of a vortex, pulling everything under its beatific command. Take the finale to ‘What We Found’ for instance, sounding like a ghostly march across the psychedelic moors, or ‘Feel The Way’, where a single athletic drum-loop rises and rises, growing ever more urgent and suspenseful underneath its frantic harpsichords and rasping flutes. Full of such rich stylisms as these, The Soundcarriers showcase themselves as abstract storytellers par excellence by virtue of their textures and arrangements alone. Resembling Romantic composer Maurice Ravel, but if he had just a four-piece rock band at his disposal, Through Other Reflects is rich with detail; there’s shakers, rattles, clarinets, booming drums; there’s synthesiser swarms, chiming xylophones, vintage organs and experimental Cluster & Eno-esque ambiences. Within all this nuance the music flows like some undisclosed narrative swathed in a magnetic secrecy. “It almost comes across like a story in some ways”, says Cann of the album, “the music is quite sectional with elements of exotica and cinematic type layers, it's a good balance of grooves, tunes and weirdness”. No more is this “epic cinematic feel” heard more proudly than on short instrumental ‘Sonya’s Lament” - its innate, hauntological atmospheres befitting a Peter Strickland soundtrack, or the classics of Lex Baxter, the so-called ‘Founder of Exotica’ himself. On the other hand, providing a greasier undercurrent to all these bucolic sounds is a leaning towards a more “direct” lyricism referencing more “external concerns. Laying down the first tracks for the album in the wintry gloom of pre-lockdown 2020, and drawing inspiration from time spent in Berlin, Through Other Reflections returns to some of the post-apocalyptic futurism explored in 2014’s Entropicalia - a loose concept album inspired by J.G Ballard’s The Drowned World. “The songs explore a disillusionment with the way things are going particularly after 40 years of neoliberalism”, says Cann, “They follow that folk-song tradition of wanting to escape to an imagined time, but here it’s more urban than pastoral. The first couple of ideas I came up with when doing some music in Berlin and had some time to wander aimlessly. And think the atmosphere seeped in, particularly on The City Was and Already Over. He continues, “One aspect of the title, ‘Through Other Reflections’ is about synthesis and layers of influence. How things can be filtered through other things and change the perspective. This is something you get in cities as well.” Though, as with everything The Soundcarriers make, “It can mean anything. It also just sounds kind of cool.”

It’s abundantly clear from the first bars of their 5th studio album Through Other Reflection, that this is, and could only ever be, The Soundcarriers. From the enchanting vocal duets of folk-bidden Chanteuses Leonore Wheatley and Dorian Conway; to the precise bass lines of Paul Isherwood and the limber, jazz-cool, Hal Blaine-esque drums of his his co-songwriter Adam Cann; from the fairy-like flutes, 60s-garage guitars and organ sounds pilfered from the archives of exotica - listening to the Soundcarriers resembles a rediscovery of all the most prized, esoteric corners of the 1960s, all bundled up, warped and refracted through the quartet’s astutely modern cultural lens. Channelling Tropicalia, Middle Eastern psychedelic Jazz/Funk, The French Library sounds of Nino Nardini, and a whole host of lavish obscurites beside, Through Other Reflection delivers another sonic adventure from one of the most unique and distinctive voices of British Psychedelia. After an 8 year wait for their album 4 - 2022’s Wilds - it thankfully didn’t take so long for the follow-up this time round. In many ways, this feels like a companion to Wilds; recording again at their Nottingham warehouse studio, Through Other Reflection retains that same organic glow, all the passions and imperfections of a tightly clipped unit jamming out these living, breathing pop-art nuggets as if straight onto the acetate.”We wanted to keep an air of spontaneity with this album and not get too bogged with the recording process”, explains Cann, “It was more a case of getting the songs as tightly written and arranged as possible first so we could get them down quickly in the studio. It always takes longer than you think” Less packed with strident pop hooks as its predecessor however, the music of Through… has been given extra licence to breathe, stretch out, and wander more uncharted terrains. While gleaming psych-pop of tracks like ‘The City Was’, or ‘Already Over’ confidently carry on from where they left off, from the album’s 2nd track ‘Always’, the trip becomes a little less predictable. Starting out as a smoky Procol Harum-meets-French-Psych organ ballad, the music drifts, as if of its own accord into an eerie, garage trance that lingers, cycles, and hypnotises, growing ever stranger, reaching ever-further away from its point of conception. And almost every track on Through Other Reflections holds that outer-body moment, where the band fix themselves on a limber, lysergic groove, lose all grip on time and reality, and melt themselves away into a liquid state of blind euphoria. There are sequences on this record that feel more like rituals than songs, built upon a single hypnotic rhythm which, like the centre of a vortex, pulling everything under its beatific command. Take the finale to ‘What We Found’ for instance, sounding like a ghostly march across the psychedelic moors, or ‘Feel The Way’, where a single athletic drum-loop rises and rises, growing ever more urgent and suspenseful underneath its frantic harpsichords and rasping flutes. Full of such rich stylisms as these, The Soundcarriers showcase themselves as abstract storytellers par excellence by virtue of their textures and arrangements alone. Resembling Romantic composer Maurice Ravel, but if he had just a four-piece rock band at his disposal, Through Other Reflects is rich with detail; there’s shakers, rattles, clarinets, booming drums; there’s synthesiser swarms, chiming xylophones, vintage organs and experimental Cluster & Eno-esque ambiences. Within all this nuance the music flows like some undisclosed narrative swathed in a magnetic secrecy. “It almost comes across like a story in some ways”, says Cann of the album, “the music is quite sectional with elements of exotica and cinematic type layers, it's a good balance of grooves, tunes and weirdness”. No more is this “epic cinematic feel” heard more proudly than on short instrumental ‘Sonya’s Lament” - its innate, hauntological atmospheres befitting a Peter Strickland soundtrack, or the classics of Lex Baxter, the so-called ‘Founder of Exotica’ himself. On the other hand, providing a greasier undercurrent to all these bucolic sounds is a leaning towards a more “direct” lyricism referencing more “external concerns. Laying down the first tracks for the album in the wintry gloom of pre-lockdown 2020, and drawing inspiration from time spent in Berlin, Through Other Reflections returns to some of the post-apocalyptic futurism explored in 2014’s Entropicalia - a loose concept album inspired by J.G Ballard’s The Drowned World. “The songs explore a disillusionment with the way things are going particularly after 40 years of neoliberalism”, says Cann, “They follow that folk-song tradition of wanting to escape to an imagined time, but here it’s more urban than pastoral. The first couple of ideas I came up with when doing some music in Berlin and had some time to wander aimlessly. And think the atmosphere seeped in, particularly on The City Was and Already Over. He continues, “One aspect of the title, ‘Through Other Reflections’ is about synthesis and layers of influence. How things can be filtered through other things and change the perspective. This is something you get in cities as well.” Though, as with everything The Soundcarriers make, “It can mean anything. It also just sounds kind of cool.”

Recorded as part of the same daydreaming puzzle as Unwishing Well, Still Clouds at Noon brings out the slowcore/sadcore elements that drift through The Reds, Pinks & Purples’ melancholy catalog. Donaldson names '90s hometown San Francisco acts such as American Music Club and the more obscure Timco as pivotal to his guitar playing and development as a songwriter, both of which shine bright here. The slower tempo ballads on Still Clouds… often culminate in heavy fuzz drenched codas and showcase the more abstract poetic side of Donaldson’s lyricism. There’s an inherent pop-sensibility always at work though, with ear-worm melodies appearing over intoxicating circular riffs. Formerly a Bandcamp only digital release, this white vinyl version is remastered and adds two unreleased tracks, one featuring Mark Monnone from Australian pop-legends The Lucksmiths on bass

Comes with insert and download coupon.

Imagine a Latin remake of Back to the Future. The mad scientist is Arsenio Rodriguez (the godfather of salsa) and the young student who travels through time with him is Eblis Alvarez (Meridian Brothers). This album can only be described as the perfect soundtrack for that movie that never was.

After the massive buzz generated by his first solo album, Mentallogenic, Alex Figueira got back in the studio to work in a more collective fashion this time, carefully assembling the second album of his largest project to date, Conjunto Papa Upa; a team of 6 musicians, spanning 3 generations of some of the best talent in the Latin and avant-garde scenes.

In an era where tropical music is dominated by purely electronic and rhythmically uniform sounds, the ten songs encompassed in “Fruta Madura” (“Ripe Fruit”) wander through the most diverse tempos, rhythms, and motifs effortlessly. A real breath of fresh air that gracefully incorporates soul, funk, jazz, psychedelia, and electronics into a solid tropical, irresistibly polyrhythmic foundation, without ever succumbing to the many genre clichés.

The distinctive production and catchy songwriting of Figueira shine in a very distinctive light on this second full-length. Living up to his reputation (Miles Cleret, founder of Soundway Records, called him “one of the scene's truly authentic and eccentric producers”), he takes the opportunity to show he’s not afraid to keep walking his own path.

Taking the band for a wild ride through the traditions of Africa, America, and the Caribbean; contrasting them with a ridiculously wide plethora of vintage, contemporary, and futuristic sounds, and pivoting on the exuberant musicality displayed by his musicians; the result leaves no doubt: this album is destined to be considered a future classic of the exciting tropical psychedelic music of the 21st century.

Addressing the most diverse themes in this new collection of songs, things take on a much more mature tone, as the title clearly suggests.

The opening track “El segundo es más sabroso” (“The second one is tastier”) sets the tone in the most assertive way imaginable, with the band boldly declaring, through multiple metaphorical references (laid upon a crazy mix of Dominican merengue, Detroit techno, classic and free jazz, dub, and electro), that the bar will be set higher with this second album.

The remaining compositions touch upon the most diverse subjects, with a fair dose of humor, sarcasm, and postmodern “magic realism”. “El Algoritmo” (The Algorithm) is a parranda-cumbia hybrid (for lack of a specific term) about the omnipresence of technology in our lives. The sophisticated Latin soul of the titling track “Fruta Madura” makes a case for the beauty of the maturity process. Some key philosophical teachings of Marcus Aurelius (the role of causality, the impositions of “the logos” and the importance of self-control) get a twisted cumbia treatment on “Reos del Deseo” (Prisoners of Desire). “No le pongas Coca-Cola” (“Don’t put Coca Cola in it”) shows us the most satirical side of the band, accusing those who mix Coca Cola with Rum of committing "sacrilege", on a powerful base of Dem Bow (the grandfather of Reggaeton), intertwined with touches of soul, salsa, and Cuban comparsa.

"Háblame Claro" (“Talk to me clearly”) is a story of heartbreak that evokes in its first part the spirit of the erotic salsa of the 80s (a subgenre deeply despised by purists), and after an unexpected samba interlude, leads to the hardest salsa of the 70s (a subgenre adored by purists), to end up in the surprising form of pure Afro-Cuban ceremonial music.

“Tu mamá tenía razón” ("Your Mom Was Right") is an attempt to exalt the spirit of the Latin American soap opera in the key of “acid bachata”, to recount a real-life case, witnessed by the band on countless occasions: the partying woman who arrives at the show accompanied by her bitter husband, who obviously does not like to dance. A very cheeky song to talk about the very serious and pertinent topic of female empowerment.

“La misma vaina” (“The same thing”) with its indescribable blend of bantú, candomblé, and Mozambique rhythms with abstract synthesizers, is an ode to adventure in favor of the aversion to taking risks and seeking predictability.

“Amigas picadas” (“Salty friends”) is another humorous song recounting another real-life case witnessed by the band on countless occasions: a love encounter sabotaged by the girlfriend's friends, who all happen to fancy the same guy. A jazzy take on the ancient Dominican rhythm of pambiche (grandfather of merengue), with generous psychedelic touches, resembling the classy late 60s releases of Guadeloupe's legendary producer / label owner Henri Debs.

“Vinimos a hablar” (“We came to talk”) takes sarcasm to the highest level, to ridicule the absurdity (also experienced by the band firsthand) seen in live music venues where people pay a ticket to go and have conversations that could be carried out much better on any bar, where no band is playing. The music alternates between a delicate melody with loose, sparse percussion and a full-on, pumping Angolan semba, with a techno kick drum included; bringing things to an apotheotic grooving finale, where the peculiar swing of Venezuelan calypso from the Callao region is thrown on top of all the precedent elements; closing the album in the most uplifting, “end of the carnival parade” feel.

The artwork is a delicate and impactful oil painting by Colombian artist Kevin Simón Mancera, who has collaborated many times with the label before (“Maracas, tambourines and other hellish things” tape and the Lola’s Dice LP).

What the experts are saying:

“Alex (Figueira) dove into this work with a brutal cohesion between lyrics and synths. Timbre poetry, sound poetry (you name it). And that, superimposed on his always impeccable percussive base, confirms the title of “avant-garde visionary of our beautiful Latin music”".
EBLIS ALVAREZ (MERIDIAN BROTHERS)
“Papa Upa's infectious quirkiness is a balm against boredom. A mature album, but without an expiration date”.
GLADYS PALMERA

“Here there is a lot of strength, drum, cadence and psychedelia, lost dance rhythms, united in an intercontinental Latin/African/and Caribbean journey, a unique winning combination that we could consider the new “Ritmo Figueira”.
DISCODELIC

Conjunto Papa Upa are: 



Alex Figueira - Timbales, percussion, vocals. 

Gerardo Rosales - Congas, percussion, vocals. 

Ramón Mendeville - Bongos, percussion, vocals. 

Randy Winterdal - Bass.

Andrew Moreno - Guitar.

Nico Chientarolli - Organ, piano, synths.



All songs written by Alex Figueira. 

Arranged and performed by Conjunto Papa Upa. 

Recorded, produced, mixed and mastered by Alex Figueira at Heat Too Hot, Amsterdam.


Mick Harris is one of the world's greatest compositional treasures. Starting his career as the energy dynamo behind the drum kit of the UK's Napalm Death, he made the term Blastbeat a household reference, wrote the band's music on his mother's one string guitar, and joined the Guinness Book of World Records for composing the world's shortest song. In the decades succeeding, he has re-inventedmusic several more times, from the wild abstract jazz of Painkiller with John Zorn and Bill Laswell, to the drowning ambience of his Lull project, all while continuing to build a world that he can truly call his own - the dark post-dub of SCORN. "Reaching 54 this year - this won't stop the challenge, driving me more so now than ever" - says Mick Harris, commenting on the recent phase in his creativity. The pandemic isolation and lockdown pushed the work of the maestro more than anything else could have. In 2021, his output is ever-increasing, releasing the newest collabs with Justin K. Broadrick and the single "Distortion", featuring one of the most outstanding voices of hip-hop - Kool Keith - his closest collaborator, Ohm Resistance founder - Submerged. Commenting on the release of "Distortion", Mick Harris said to mxdwn: "I enjoy collabs - they bring something different to the swim." Working on his own and collaborating with everyone from Sleaford Mods' James Williamson, on the previous SCORN release or with Kool Keith and Submerged on "Distortion", Mick Harris never had problems with putting energy into beats and sound landscapes, combining various surreal elements with three basic elements that always push Harris further, that are extremely crucial for both Mick Harris and SCORN as a project - frustration, anger and anxiety. Combining the signature soundscapes of Scorn with tartareous textures, the newest album "The Only Place" reaches a psychedelic groove, based on what Harris calls "Pushing an original idea further" with his own shades of light and dark and celestial electricity of what SCORN is. These 10 new tracks add elements unheard in Scorn since Evanescense and Gyral - ethereal ambiences and floating, near-melodic-but-not-quite moments, a signature of Harris' abilities to generate feelings in a lost world of his own creation. 2024 vinyl version on orange coloured vinyl!

Jacken Elswyth is a London-based folk musician, banjo player, and instrument builder. At Fargrounds is her third solo album, her first for the Wrong Speed label and the latest in a rich catalogue that repositions the spectral, vulnerable sound of the banjo away from its familiar role as signifier of the past and onto lands brave, new and unexplored. “The living wood is imbued with qualities that require engagement and understanding. Working with cherry, oak or walnut involves naming it an equal partner. The parallel, synchronous transformations of wood into instrument, of growing tree into resonating sound, musical tradition into musical flourishing, lie at the heart of Jacken Elswyth’s practices both as an instrument builder and as a creative musician. One might consider her primarily as a worker in wood, but whose craft and fields of expression are absorbed by those transitional and interim processes that manifest change. The traditional tunes included here have been cultivated and maintained by generations of players and collectors, pruned, grafted, and shaped over time. However, in this setting, their long-established forms seem to morph and shift. They audibly accrue unique qualities, blossoming and swelling into new modes of being, bright-stepping arrangements unfolding with a liveliness hinting at practices of ritual and community. Meanwhile, other pieces, creative cornerstones of this collection, appear fluid, partially formed. They suggest not the cultivation of new growth from established stock, but instead the actions of something on the verge of taking form. Working with raw elements of melodic and tonal abstraction, they illuminate the process of emergence and evolution. In this context, the title At Fargrounds is telling. It suggests a point set at some distance from any centre of human concerns, a liminal space in which the cultivated world encounters the world of other living things in their living state. Here, the innate strangeness of the maintained environment–vast lawns, sculpted hedges, vacant playing fields–encounters sprawling vistas of driftwood, dense thickets of brambles, stony hillsides. Across a full century-and-a-quarter, long-standing rural and pastoral musical traditions, at some distance from their origins, have been preserved, nurtured and re-shaped under the folk revival. Placed here, these artefacts now sit in alignment with unvarnished documents featuring the raw elements of sound-making. Their working-together is achieved through a universally-applied interest in musical growth and development. The juxtaposition and combination of these elements gives evidence of new, emerging approaches to community and social music: familiar, known, yet charged with an alien vitality”–CWK Joynes. “...she knows how to knit atmospheres, and does so to especially powerful effect during Scene 4b’s three minutes of stunning bowed banjo, yearning with longing and dread, while showing off her talent, curiosity and range”–Jude Rogers review of Six Static Scenes (Guardian Folk Album Of The Month July 2022) "Jacken is an emotive player with high technical ability. Further, she builds banjos and other instruments, and that intimate knowledge of the bones and fibres holding everything together means that her playing has very few cracks" - Foxy Digitalis

A bit more than half a decade on from his widely acclaimed debut Vanishing Points from 2018, Swiss guitarist, composer, and improv musician Manuel Troller releases his new record Halcyon Future. A rhythmically dense and ambiguous, yet joyful ride for unstable times, a plea for warmth and hopeful resistance.

Troller’s mode of incorporating, zooming in, and expanding on small elements from improvised sessions creates a multilayered work of driving rhythms and abstract, vibrating textures. Opening with Halcyon Future I’s distinctive open pulse, this first piece guides us through subtle harmonic shifts that are almost unrecognizable as they take place over extended time, overlapping and creating a sense of ambiguity until the piece reaches an almost optimistic level with Mario Hänni’s unexpected introduction of driving acoustic drums. Relentlessly and with increasing excitement, heavy electronic 80s bass drums and an armada of layered hi-hats push them on, leading to the all-incorporating melodic finale.

The two long pieces Halcyon Future I and Halcyon Future II focus on forward momentum. In between them stands DNA, a purposely directionless contemplation on emotion as such. It is raw, naked, and confrontational, with a tender and subtly changing chord progression creating intimacy and proximity, abstraction and warmth, like a beautifully vibrant hologram for the listener to walk around in.

The B-side with its 20-minute Halcyon Future II features playful futuristic guitars, enhancing and challenging the stereo image that Troller is already well-known for. As it’s given time to develop and take root, the ever-varying guitar interactions densify and the staccato patterns jump out of the speakers with joy, creating excitement and building momentum. Compared to Side A, things turn to a slightly more complex rhythmical, melodic, and harmonic feel here. There are easy references, such as Manuel Göttsching’s E2-E4 or Pat Metheny performing Steve Reich’s Electric Counterpoint, but Troller goes a different and very much more concrete way. Although the piece has been recorded in various places and through a long process of overdubbing, there is an astonishingly strong live feel to it, from beginning to the end, from the slow rise to the full spectrum and the almost krautrock-like finale. Improvisers Hans Koch on soprano saxophone and Michael Flury on heavily fuzzed trombone join in, while Troller and Mario Hänni on many guitars, bass, drum machines, and acoustic drums provide a joyous driving entity, not giving up until it all breaks down again. There is overkill and brute force, though never without depth and a vision of future.

In the musical scope of Halcyon Future, there is no need for an absolute definition of things. A continuously changing interpretation of repetitive and variable elements fading in and out of focus tells a story of an excited sense of acceptance. Feelings of transcendence stem from Troller’s layering of constantly shifting rhythmic structures with unforeseen improvised harmonic changes. Drum machine parts overlayed with acoustic drums shift between musical modes, anchoring the album on the verge of a jazz-influenced, motorik, post-ECM balearic plateau. Abstract textural elements gently swirl around and behind all that is rhythm, providing a submissive counterpoint. As with much of Troller’s work, Halcyon Future is an album that unfolds slowly, revealing more of its richness, detail, and subtle beauty at each listen.

Halcyon Future is a joint release by three:four records and meakusma.

Volume 3 of a set of collaborations between the prolific Argentine polymaths Reynols and the inescapable Acid Mothers Temple. Recorded in Buenos Aries on AMT’s 2017 South American Tour, the music has identifiable sonic elements from both groups but ends up sounding like neither, with a surprising weightlessness that keeps things jammy and psychedelic until the final track’s blustering rock. Taking up most of side 1, “Kicking Air Bricks” has a loose Gong/’70s Euro-classic vibe, with Satoshima Nani getting to swing on the drums in a way that isn’t always part of AMT’s steamroller, while the rest of the gang layers in abstract piano, percussion, glissando guitar, etc. “Multiverse Turtle Reflex” closes the side with a thick drone coda. Side two starts with Miguel Tomasin’s gentle vocal and organ accompaniment on “Smelling Oneiric Asado” before the group gradually gathers momentum with Wolf’s thick bass anchoring layers of clean and loose guitar interplay. “Lemurian Tsunami Inside A Hat” is a thriteen-minute heavy rock epic, with the Reynols’ guitars going head to head with Makota Kawabata’s easily recognized interjections, ramping up into a riffy crescendo.

"Listen to This." As the original working title for Bitches Brew, the instruction and invitation resonates to this day as the best way to approach a record that shattered conventions, altered music history, and, more than five decades after its original release, still sounds far ahead of its time. The aural Mount Rushmore of jazz fusion, Bitches Brew is rightly ranked by virtually every significant outlet among the 100 greatest albums ever made in any genre. Sewn together with vibrant colours, voodoo textures, and ethereal moods, the 1970 landmark emerges with supreme detail on Mobile Fidelity's definitive 180g 33RPM 2LP set.

Sourced from the original master tapes and pressed on 180g vinyl at RTI, this numbered-edition version of Bitches Brew joins the audiophile ranks of other essential Miles Davis sets reissued by Mobile Fidelity. Having established new possibilities for studio-recording techniques, the record can now be experienced to maximum degree by way of a pressing that widens and deepens the soundstage, opens up separation between instruments, and broadens the dynamic range. If ever a jazz album can be said to have gone to outer space and back, this is it.

Davis conceived Bitches Brew by having the musicians stand in a semi-circle, where he pointed at them with vague directions for tempo, solos, and cues. The collective improvisation and interplay spawned a galaxy of melodies and grooves later spliced together by producer Ted Macero. On this reissue, these creations take shape with utmost realism. Compositions stretch across black backgrounds and paint abstract canvasses on par with those of Axis: Bold As Love and Abraxas. Juxtaposed percussion, loose jams, and melodic segues explode with impressionistic verve.

And "verve" defines Bitches Brew. Gathering a Hall of Fame-worthy lineup of musicians and tweaking it according to his desires, Davis follows through on his idea to "put together the greatest rock and roll band you ever heard." Central to his proposition is the presence of two (and sometimes three) drummers and two bassists, a tactical move that thrusts rhythms into central focus. Akin to the futuristic album cover art, the drum-driven suites head toward distant universes and uncharted territories. At once hypnotizing and grooving, they chart maverick adventures with quixotic rock, funk, and R&B elements.

Conceptually, Davis described Bitches Brew as "a novel without words" and "an incredible journey of pain, joy, sorrow, hate, passion, and love." The vast psychedelic expanses of warped echoes, liquid reverb, and tape loops confirm such ambitious contrasts of light and dark, fear and hope. Yet the most absolute characteristic of this watershed effort lies in how it resists definitive interpretation and encourages free thought — the very principles with which Davis conceived the everlasting beauty and fascination that remain Bitches Brew.

For more than twenty years, Ka Baird has explored the outer dimensions of sound through performance. Extending far beyond their roots in the psychedelic folk movement of the early aughts, Ka is known for their raw, boundary pushing solo performances that bridge experimental sound, performance art, and ritual. Their tool set in the live arena includes extended voice and microphone techniques, electronics, flute and piano. Bearings follows their 2017 debut Sapropelic Pycnic and Respires, their acclaimed 2019 album.

Initially conceived as a twenty minute composition and presentation commissioned by Lampo in Chicago in the spring of 2022, Ka first explored the concept of “bearings” through a series of intimate performances where they shifted guises between magician, shaman, clown, and athlete, all enduring ongoing states of groundlessness through a physically demanding performance that entailed both play and struggle. This piece, in tandem with the heaviness of caring for a dying parent during the subsequent year, laid the groundwork for Bearings, with the album’s final narrative structure revealing itself in the months after their mother’s death the following September.

Enlisting a cast of contributors including Andrew Bernstein (alto saxophone), Max Eilbacher (flute processing, electronics), Greg Fox (percussion), gabby fluke-mogul (violin), Henry Fraser (contrabass), Joanna Mattrey (viola), John McCowen (contra clarinet), Camilla Padgitt-Coles (bowls, waterphone) Troy Schafer (strings), Chris Williams (trumpet), Nate Wooley (trumpet), and their beloved cat, Nisa (purrs) to create a collective hum and thrum, Ka and company create sprawling minimalist densities, punctuated by abrupt starts and stops, complex harmonics and textures, percussive flourishes, and a single, cyclical lyrical phrase: “Here. Disappear. Poof!”

Ka considers the album to be a deviant nod to a song cycle, throughout which certain motifs are repeated in different configurations. In the album’s sonic lexicon, a trumpet blast signifies a birth or death, or a distant string motif denotes a memory. Bearings is a durational work of profound abstraction and focus, within which sonorous elements, structure, and meaning reach a single, unified form. This amounts to nothing short of a creative high-water mark for one of the most dynamic and uncompromising artists working in the landscape of music today.

Combining elements of post-rock, trip-hop, and industrial music, HAAL have quickly become cult favourites in the UK live scene. Their psychotropic blend of samples, DIY pedals, and monolithic instrumentation, has seen the band play and tour alongside the likes of Kyoto Kyoto, WEB, Deliluh, Treeboy & Arc, Katy J Pearson, and Gurriers, as well as appearing at festivals such as ArcTanGent, Dot To Dot and more. Coming off the heels of their recent singles “Janus” and “Judy” (and subsequent remixes by Water From My Eyes and Crimewave), the new EP “Back To Shilmarine” arrives as a blistering snapshot of the band’s protean dynamism.

The band celebrate their late-90s / early-00s influences in a caustic yet melodic blend of tracks that nod as much to the output of labels such as Dischord, Touch & Go, and Nothing Records, as they do their contemporaries in the UK scene such as SCALER, Famous, deathcrash, and LICE. The EP sees them bring all these touchstones together to create a unique and uninhibited maelstrom of sound that spans everything from intricate math-inflected guitar lines and pensive vocals to propulsive drumming, totemic riffing, and warped synths.

Arguably some of HAAL’s heaviest material to date, “Platform 1, 18:19” offers the first look into this new material melding motorik rhythms and hypnotic riffs with sudden explosions of noise and power. However, as ever with HAAL, there is more than meets the eye – the track also features samples completely abstracted from their sources, for instance, the drone that begins the song is taken from a video of frontman Alfie Hay and his friends beating Bop It.

Elsewhere on the EP, the lyrics explore themes of cosmic existentialism, absurdism, meaning, transhumanism, inner reflection, science, history, and general philosophy. “All the lyrics are musings or verses that I wrote at very different times in my life” says Hay. “I then had to fit them around the music, despite being written at wildly different periods.” The record was once again recorded with long-time collaborator Alfie Tyson Brown (Katy J Pearson, LICE, Lazarus Kane) at The Louisiana in Bristol. The band have a tight knit collaborative circle around them, this is particularly notable around the band’s imagery

Experimental metal trio LOCRIAN are a prophetic voice of decline and a pioneering force in the world of metal. LOCRIAN’s sonic tapestry weaves elements of black metal, ambient, and experimental music, creating a genre-defying experience that pushes the boundaries of conventional metal norms. Their new album “End Terrain” set for release on April 05, is the proper follow-up to 2015’s “Infinite Dissolution” (Relapse Records) and continues in the vein of LOCRIAN’s distinguishable sonic blueprint brought forth from said release along with such albums as the Relapse Records released “Return To Annihilation” and “The Clearing/The Final Epoch”. 2022 saw the return of LOCRIAN making their return on their Profound Lore debut “New Catastrophism” which saw the trio explore and return back to the more experimental side of their roots.

“End Terrain” is the group’s most direct and concise work to date. More complex and layered than anything in the prolific trio’s catalog, “End Terrain” is a concept album exposing a vision of a future earth consumed by waste. An apocalyptic landscape, inhabited by a generation who despise their parentage and a dying breed fully aware of the wasteland they have left. Mountains of trash and an uninhabitable planet, endless and dead. End Terrain is about inertia and regret, about the future and a mirror to the present, about mourning and extinction.

A seamless and harrowing blend of experimental, post-rock, and post-metal, “End Terrain” is the perfect manifestation of modern, forward-thinking experimental music pushed to a maximalist conclusion.

In the ever-evolving realm of extreme music, LOCRIAN stands as a testament to the power of artistic exploration. Their geographical spread mirrors the expansive sonic landscapes they traverse, cementing their status as trailblazers in the avant-garde metal scene.

"Locrian are a many-tendriled beast. The formerly Chicago-based trio, having released a myriad of albums ranging from abstract guitar noise to krautrock-and-drone-informed metal, are poised to release their first "song-based" album since 2015's Infinite Dissolution (compared to 2022's New Catastrophism–an improvisation-guided, full-band drone and noise album). End Terrain is a high-concept, intense album, telling a very pers

With his debut EP Mo Wrights delivers a jazz-focused and narrative-driven record navigating the inner dialogue of a creative struggle of inferiority, abstraction and commitment. The story finds him enlisting some friends along the way to advance from one act to the other.

With the title track - ‘things2proof’ - Mo tries to combine his myriad of influences in a 6-minute record that weaves together elements of jazz, broken beat, acid jazz, fusion, hip-hop and hints of rock. The coherence comes from his poignant narrative, which resembles a four-act structure, telling the story of alienation and his internal experience of inferiority, creative frustration, and his eventual recognition of a solution, concluding by finally permitting himself to simply ‘be’. And for that we thank him!

The b-side ‘proof of concept’ follows the title track, Mo embraces a more laid-back approach, sitting sonically closer to his beloved broken beat sound. Amsterdam-based pianist Misto Kay delivers a long soul-felt piano solo that carries the track into untold dimensions of groove. With this offering the soul feels both heard and yearned for. It’s as if desire and satisfaction are in conversation with one another. You can’t help but be gripped, pay attention, and listen.

As a co-founder of the Amsterdam-based music platform Steppin’ Into Tomorrow, whose ethos is anchored in the principle of collaboration and unification of the Dutch scene is a deeply felt sentiment throughout Mo’s EP. He enlists a slew of emergent local legends, such as QUANZA, drummer Jamie Peet, flutist Han Litz, bass player kotokid and pianist Misto Kay to embellish and remix his creation. The remixes also illuminate other bright creatives the local scene has to offer, with remixes by the likes of - Kofi the Unknown, LYMA, Misto Kay and Jazz n Dance.

The latest in a prolific string of solo and collaborative releases by James Rushford, Turzets collects a pair of new works primarily created and recorded last year while the Australian composer-performer was in residence at La Becque, an art center on Lake Geneva in Switzerland. The side-length piece "Fallaway Whisk" explores hesitation in its many forms_reticence of speech, sonic restraint_using live, abstracted translations of text from English to German against a lush and swelling soundscape. On the flip side, "Quire" is a work in ten movements influenced by the composer's study of late medieval repertoire on portative organ, weaving the instrument's woodsy interlocking melodies with angelic Yamaha CS-80 synth sweeps and stuttering glitches. The combined effort is somewhat a departure for Rushford, working in traces of Klaus Schulze, concrete poetry, and ars subtilior into a precise and ever-unfolding tapestry. Rushford's work draws from a wide range of collagist and improvisatory musical languages, staking out an idiosyncratic stylistic space that has been variously described as "electro-acoustic experimentation with a beating heart" (Boomkat) and "haunted Jacobean ASMR" (The Wire). Investigating the creases, cracks, and folds in traditions ranging from early music to New Age, Rushford's work subtly exaggerates seemingly liminal aspects such as atmosphere and the bodily presence of the performer until these take on a weight equal to musical elements such as pitch, rhythm, and timbre. In recent years, Rushford's solo work has been guided by his theorization of sonic images, particularly the shadow, which has inspired pieces as diverse as an hour-long companion to Federico Mompou's 1959-67 piano cycle Música Callada (2016) and a sumptuous translation of the play of light across flat surfaces into synthetic sound (The Lake from the Louvers, Shelter Press, 2021). His long-standing performance practice for piano, portative organ, synthesizers, and electroacoustic devices, is constantly infused with a delicacy of touch and a harmonic sensibility in which unorthodox tunings coexist with influences from fin de siècle Impressionism, the twentieth century avant-garde, and popular musical structures. He has worked with a vast range artists including Klaus Lang, Annea Lockwood, David Behrman, Tashi Wada, Haroon Mirza, Dennis Cooper, Ora Clementi, crys cole, Oren Ambarchi, Kassel Jaeger, Will Guthrie, and Graham Lambkin. He has performed as Golden Fur (with Sam Dunscombe and Judith Hamann) and Food Court (with Joe Talia and Francis Plagne).

For a few years Leo Robinson was the sort of hidden secret you sometimes come across in local music scenes. First in Manchester and now in Glasgow, he’d pop up regularly on DIY bills or as local support to a touring act, quietly blowing them off stage with his rich baritone vocal and homespun lo-fi tales of folklore and animism. With The Temple – his debut on PRAH Recordings – he looks set to cross over from being a cult concern.

“There's a spectrum within the album between fully mythologising or symbolising my lived experience, and just stating it in very matter of fact terms - that push and pull between the need to abstract and the need to break through the abstraction and have an honest moment with oneself” he explains. “This is one of the themes of the album as well as part of the process. The aim was to take all these anecdotal or symbolic elements and merge them into one narrative and one world, in a way that you can find your way through the record as if it were a landscape or language with its own logic.”

The record takes on a pastoral, slightly baroque nature that Robinson partly attributes to a friend screening a lot of ‘70s BBC material in his book shop that they used to hang out at. There are also elements of jazz, flickering to life in “The Spring”’s piano-led finale and coda.

Thematically, Robinson likens it to a Jungian ‘Hero's Journey’, his voice possessing a character who goes through several defined stages of consciousness. From conception and the beginning of an earthly life, the first half of the album recognises the development of the protagonist’s narrative and identity, before “The Pink Light”’s freeform departure from the hitherto more song-based suite devastatingly shatters this. The second half of the album then sees the protagonist witness “the uncontainable” water; learning that true divinity lies not in the individual self or lofty notions of gods and temples, but in the unremarkable nettles, insects and dogs on the roadside riverbank - referenced on tracks “The Cormorant” and “The Spring”.

Although now residing north of the border, The Temple was written while Robinson was finding his feet in Manchester, having moved there to go to art school as a teenager (as a visual artist, he has exhibited at the Tiwani Contemporary in London and Cardiff’s Chapter Arts Centre). As a result, many of the tracks bear out the shadows of his experiences in the northern city – at their most visible and explicit on the beautifully fragile storytelling of “The Pavement”. Written the day after the Manchester Arena Bombings, it recalls Robinson waking up to go to work on a hot summer’s day to discover that his street had been blocked off for terrorism investigations; it then progresses through the rest of his day, amidst the grimly surreal aftermath of the previous night.

Having written the chords, melodies and lyrics to the album, Robinson fleshed out the tunes by scoring out parts for the additional instrumentation, but it was only when a friend sent a demo to PRAH that he was able to fund its full recording. Guitars, vocals, piano and French Horn (the latter recorded by Lauren Reeve-Rawlings) were put down at Green Door Studios in Glasgow. Microphones were placed around the room and the sound of the musicians stepping on creaky floorboards and opening creaky doors were left audible to further the record’s live feel. The harpsichord heard on “The Serpent”, meanwhile, came from University of Glasgow lecturer David McGuinness. Strings were then recorded at PRAH Studios by Francesca Ter-Berg and Raven Bush, the Social Singing Choir adding their choral vocals to “Temple II”.

The result is an album that feels both luscious and yet intimately raw; as grand as Richard Dawson at his most panoramic but containing the rough edges and skeletal looseness of a Calvin Johnson work. At times Robinson lyrically moves towards the surreal, but ultimately this is a record grounded in reality; a true showcase of Robinson’s skill as a lyricist and songwriter.

Violist, violinist and singer-songwriter Marla Hansen returns to Karaoke Kalk with "Salt", her second full-length album to date. Building upon the sonic palette the Berlin-based musician established with her debut "Dust" in 2020, "Salt" takes the delicate mixture of acoustic instruments such as viola, violin, piano and guitar combined with subtle electronics to the next level. The new album is both a remarkable departure and at the same time sheds a new yet reassuring light on Hansen's work and creativity. "Salt" features numerous collaborations with like-minded musicians and friends, e. g. producer and composer Simon Goff, The Notwist's drummer Andi Haberl and the renowned artist DM Stith.

The "Dust" has settled. After having recorded her solo debut of that name, in 2020 the world came to a grinding halt, leaving Marla Hansen left to her own devices in her adopted home of Berlin. For Hansen, who previously had lent her talent to many creative minds such as The National, Sufjan Stevens, The Hidden Cameras, Jay-Z and Ravi Coltrane, the collaborative aspect of writing and producing music had always played a crucial part in finding her own path as a solo artist.

"I started to explore synthesizers and electronic production myself," she remembers of the time when meeting other musicians in person was out of the question. "I am proud that I accomplished many of the electronic elements of the new album by myself, and otherwise laid the groundwork for the final electronic structures through my own experiments. I always wanted to record a 'big' record, one that has a lot of power and sound, and this one is 'bigger' than anything I have done so far."

"Salt" is big, indeed. The opener "Chains" is driven by a gliding bass line, bobbing 808 snares, deep chords and a mesmerizing chorus doubled by luscious strings, marking the beginning of a new chapter in her creative journey. A stark statement, both musically and lyrically. Meanwhile, the title track of the album is an almost abstract sounding ambient miniature, sketch-like, dark and haunting, showcasing Hansen's voice in a shy, brittle and fragile state. If This Mortal Coil/The Hope Blister were ever to record another album, these songs should be high up on the shortlist of tunes to pick. "The One Time" - a duet with Hansen's long-time friend DM Stith - gently meanders between a Philip Glass-inspired piece for chamber orchestra and a vocal ensemble performing on Top Of The Pops. In this range of styles and approaches, Hansen's vision is more present than ever.

For refining and finishing the songs, Hansen turned to Simon Goff, who produced the album and engineered much of the recording, merging Hansen's newly-found songwriting approach with the artistic delicacy which made her debut album an exceptional piece of work. Features include among others: Alice Dixon (Oriel Quartett) on cello, Kyle Resnick (The National, Beirut) on trumpet, Benjamin Lanz (The National, Beirut) on trombone and tuba, and Miles Perkin on bass. And then there is The Notwist's Andi Haberl, who "crafted perfect drum and percussion parts to move the songs wherever they needed to go, either into their driving grooves, slow-build explosions or gentle swells of feeling."

But what are songs actually about? "The themes revolve around a feeling of being trapped. Having to stay inside during the pandemic, with all the silence and stillness coming with it. Simultaneously, I was caught up in a professional situation that was not working for me, yet it required a lot of energy and time. I was thinking a lot about how to break old habits and patterns. Patterns in my life, patterns I saw my friends and loved-ones stuck in. There are a lot of ways that people can be trapped, and breaking out of that requires a lot of courage and energy - on all levels. The title 'Salt' seemed to fit, ocean themes showed up naturally in some of the songs, and I thought often about the quote: 'The cure for anything is salt water: sweat, tears or the sea.' Maybe I was just dreaming of the ocean, since it was inaccessible for the first time! But I wanted a cure for this feeling of being trapped, in a time of uncertainty and anxiety, salt as a remedy seemed to have some truth in it: sweat, tears or the sea."

Perseverance and the urge for freedom prevailed in the end. "Salt" is a bold artistic achievement, with songs as big as the biggest waves imaginable. With melodies as alluring as the most comfortable breezes. Perfect from start to finish.

Complete with 10" vinyl record and booklet presenting Laurianne Bixhain's photographic work and text by Chloe Chignell.

Presented at the Mudam (Museum of Modern Art of Luxembourg) and initiated by a photographic exploration by Laurianne Bixhain, the work "The day begins with a loud boom" interrogates the manner and extent to which we are defined by our relationship to the physical environment, and the cultural import of the techniques of production. Its imagery follows the trajectories of the materials subjected to the processes of diamond cutting and automotive glassware fabrication, and presents the traces of human intervention of which those materials are both the object and the repository.

The interplay of its imagery, music and text constitutes a theatrical whole: both the staging of the text and the sonorities create an architectural space within which each constituent object is deployed. That spatiality is shared and complemented by the text’s sonorous and performative qualities. Likewise, the elements of texture and abstraction in the imagery invoke our sense of touch, as a means of material and spatial appreciation.

The succeeding reiterations of the ostinato the day begins with are treated graphically by its progressive effacement, evoking the tension in assembly line work between repetition and linearity, accumulation and exhaustion, trace and erasure. Such attrition is equally conveyed by the harsh, impassive, and architectural qualities of both the images and the music which accompany the text. The latter notably deploys a range of insidious effects, from the marriage of dissonance and unsettling rhythm evocative of the competing cycles of multiple industrial machines, to sensual and reassuring sonorities which are contaminated by their contrast with the harsh acoustic aesthetic elsewhere.

This music unites our common love for the essence of music, which contains harmonic structures and emotionality without borders." — Musique Infinie

Musique Infinie, the new duo consisting of Noémi Büchi and Feldermelder, is rooted in a shared desire to intertwine two composing veins, and to merge them into a new, massive core. While Büchi combined her background in classical and electro-acoustic music with a bold approach to composition on her highly acclaimed debut album 'Matter' (-OUS, 2022), multi-disciplinary musician and artist Feldermelder has been expanding his artistic practice into unexplored realms for over 20 years. Mutually, they've challenged themselves to fully engage on an artistic exploration aimed at making use of the elementary forces that unfold between them.

Their debut album, simply titled 'I', is a musical hybridization. The compositions make use of simple motives that are radically transformed by expanding them into intricate structures and fantastic layerings. The overcoming of genres with eclectic elements from classical music, jazz, film music and traditional music, combined with the vocabulary of experimental electronic music, complete the vertical plunge into this thickness. The emerging pieces lead into a paradoxical world, both disturbing and euphoric. Pieces that don't give in to calculations and expectations, but progress through ruptures and repetitions. The richness of the compositions and their analog, acoustic and orchestral character reflect the density of the world with its violence, its decadence, its fragility, but also its power, its ingenuity and its beauty.

Composer and sound artist Noémi Büchi creates electronic, symphonic maximalism. Her music is defined by a delicate synthesis of textural rhythms and electroacoustic-orchestral abstraction. She explores the potential of consonance and dissonance, contrasts rhythmic physicality with disruption and playfully emphasizes irregularities, creating an expansive listening experience marked by detail and elevation.

Feldermelder is a polymathic creative whose artistry spans composition, sound design, installation and code. He is co-founder of -OUS Records and an active member of Encor.studio, a collective specialising in creating immersive audio-visual installations. Through his work, he explores the idea of secrecy and its impact on our lives, using music and sound to create a thought-provoking and immersive experience for his audience.

»In Words« is the first solo album by the Danish musician, composer, and visual artist Alexander Tillegreen. The album represents a series of varied electronic music pieces while also carrying examples of ongoing work with psychoacoustic phenomena. Composed partly of material taken from his artistic practice as an installation artist and his ongoing interdisciplinary artistic research into psychoacoustic phenomena, Tillegreen investigates subjective sonic perception and the negotiation of language. Particularly, these investigations are done through the use of the phantom word illusion, originally discovered by music psychologist Diana Deutsch. Parts of the album were conceived when Tillegreen was the first artist ever in resident at the Max Planck Institute for Empirical Aesthetics. Triggering the brain’s tendency to interpret language-based auditory illusions as meaningful information and as words within the mind of the listener, Tillegreen’s unique sound works unfold like a kaleidoscope of phonetic mirrors which render possibilities to reflect upon the listener’s own psychological and culturally situated linguistic embeddedness. Gender-distorted voice perception, speech and language borders are all challenged and thematized throughout Tillegreen’s work. The listener’s head and bodily movement drastically affect the listening and the word interpretation. Their psychological subconsciousness, recent events, memories, and expectations as well as the listener’s motion in space all become co-creative and co- composing factors in a reactive and choreographic process of listening. The polyrhythmic seriality of spatialized syllabic structures is accompanied by elements of heavy bass drops, high-frequency tensions, undulating synth lines, and hypnotic effects. Some of the many compositional potentials of the phantom word illusions are exercised and unfolded in selected tracks throughout the album. The notion of language borders is approached from an entirely different and even more “anti-logocentric” perspective on the “eponymous” closing track »Assimilate (in Words)«, where the listener experiences the struggle and collapse of interpersonal communication through conversation. Other parts of the album represent more diverse approaches to abstract electronic music. »In Words« morphs soundscapes into glacial, spherical passages of ambient backdrops, while at other times emphasizes raw tectonic blocks of hyper-panning drones that erupt into high-velocity outlets of energetic, granular fields. Tillegreen is alternating between cyclical, minimalist, hypnotic approaches and complex, glitchy polyrhythmic melodic structures that shift and melt into evocative ambiences. The phantom words and the nature of Tillegreen’s musical visions progressively demand more of the listener’s attention and represent the artist’s ongoing artistic work and scientific research into psychoacoustics and language. While »In Words« is a highly conceptual album, the musical bandwidth is extensive.

On 'Der Ferne', Phil Struck intricately weaves an abstract tapestry of textures, incorporating elements reminiscent of Hassellian-like sounds and multi-textured dubby soundscapes, a testament to the musician's getaways from urban life, journeying in the heart of nature. The music's warm and concise amalgamation of audio fragments lends it an ineffable quality, evoking hazy, sun-drenched memories, while the radiating reminiscences of the natural world invite contemplation of its true essence, remaining captivating for the discerning listener. What enigmatic experiences await discovery, and should the extraordinary always overshadow the ordinary?

„Der Ferne im Nahen. Der Ferne jenseits der Stadt. Der Ferne und den Dingen, die sich einem dort zeigen.“

"Der Ferne" stands as the fourth album by ambient and experimental artist Phil Struck, hailing from Kiel, Germany.

What are the differences and similarities between human and artificial sound, between oscillations generated by vocal cords and synthesizer voices, voltage amplified by speakers? On Silencio, his latest album for Tresor Records, Moritz von Oswald works with a 16-voice choir to explore this concept.
Drawing from the ensemble works of long-standing inspirations Edgard Varèse, György Ligeti and Iannis Xenakis, von Oswald and Vocalconsort Berlin delve into the space between sounds, creating a deeply textured collection that shifts between light & ethereal and
dark & dissonant.
As masterfully demonstrated in the early work of von Oswald and Mark Ernestus’ influential Basic Channel project, repetition and reduction are key elements here, much in the tradition of techno and minimalism. The vast dynamism of the human voice adds to the
profound weight of electronics while offering up a rhythmic source and sonic noise palette unexplored in von Oswald’s repertoire. In Silencio, von Oswald dredges a dank murk, pulling clouds over a distant pulse. It hangs, ready to take on new forms.
The compositions were written in von Oswald’s Berlin studio on classic synthesizers, such as the EMS VCS3 & AKS, Prophet V, Oberheim 4-Voice and the Moog Model 15. These abstract recordings were transcribed to sheet music for choir by Berlin-based Finnish composer and pianist, Jarkko Riihimäki and performed by Vocalconsort Berlin in Ölberg church in the city’s Kreuzberg district, only few metres down the road from where Dubplates & Mastering and Hard Wax opened their doors for music enthusiasts for many years so long. The recordings of the choral versions were then incorporated into the synthesized parts of the album and brought into anew electronic context; in Silencio, the focus is not on using one means to imitate the other, but to sonically discuss the tensions and harmonies between the two worlds and create a dialogue between them.
The relationship between von Oswald and Tresor Records goes back thirty years, all the way to Blake Baxter’s Dream Sequence in 1991 - which von Oswald engineered alongside Thomas Fehlmann. The collaboration with Fehlmann lived on, seeing the duo team up as 3MB with Eddie Fowlkes or Juan Atkins. More recently, the Detroit-Berlin connection continued as Juan Atkins & Moritz von Oswald present Borderland.
For von Oswald, Tresor Records and also the participating guest musicians of the choir, this release brings together audiences from other musical areas, cross-pollinating; Silencio is an album that stands for itself beyond the musical genre boundaries.

Cleveland-based producer Tim Thornton makes music under the moniker Tiger Village. Thornton has carved out a niche in the American experimental underground through the wide-spanning releases of his own label Suite 309, as well as through his day job as a quality control supervisor at the Gotta Groove Records manufacturing plant — meaning that his ears serve as the finish line for a vast slate
of vinyl projects that hit the market every year. The Celebration, the fourth Tiger Village release on Hausu Mountain since 2014, joins a catalog that includes releases on Orange Milk, Patient Sounds,
and HausMo sublabel Blorpus Editions, along with a battery of music self-released through Suite 309.


Within the jittering IDM-adjacent networks of The Celebration, Thornton expands his craft on multiple concurrent trajectories, digging deeper into complex drum programming and labyrinthine synth arrangement while further exploring passages of vocal synthesis and non-recursive song structures that thrive on unpredictability and constant fluctuation. Thornton can’t help but bring a wide-eyed curiosity to anything he produces, as he rejects the dead-serious gun-metal intensity of many strains of contemporary electronic production in favor of bright tones and wonky rhythms.

Like fellow Hausu Mountain artists Wobbly and Moth Cock, Tiger Village revels in cheeky compositional about-faces and
carnivalesque synth lines. In all their staccato voices and peals of abstract texture, Thornton’s tracks blur the lines between harmonic electronic elements and drum patterns. The album morphs before our
ears every few seconds or so, allowing arrhythmic loops and alternating rhythmic grids to contrast against whatever might seem to be the bedrock of any given piece. By paying attention to the
trajectory of every dollop of sound, Tiger Village pulls off magic tricks in his pointillist arrangements in which nothing remains static — everything pushes towards a state of progressive complication.

The follow-up to his acclaimed Constellation debut Third Album released in lockdown spring 2020, Markus Floats returns with Fourth Album, pushing the Montréal-based artist's distinct abstract electronic compositions into newly evocative terrain (while preserving his record-titling literalism). Faced with another couple of years spent unexpectedly, though not unfamiliarly, secluded and studio-bound, working on both paintings and music, Floats emerged by the end of 2022 with a set of tracks "about 60% finished" and a determined desire to throw off the shackles of distancing and isolation. "I had always thought about Markus Floats as a solo project but I am wrong about that. Fourth Album is about asking for help, inviting in, and making a home. It's about trust, exploration, and the effort of letting go."Sharing his in-progress recordings with a trio of close friends and collaborators from the powerhouse free music ensemble Egyptian Cotton Arkestra, each of these players then spent a day improvising to the tracks at Montréal's Hotel2Tango studio. With violin by Ari Swan, saxophone and mbira by James Goddard, and guitar and drums by Lucas Huang, Floats stitched their extemporized instruments back into his compositional process. The result is a fluid, lustrous, dynamic expansion of his sound and structure that continues to strike the ineffable balance of abstraction and soulfulness rightly highlighted and celebrated in the critical response to Third Album. Fourth Album sustains much of that previous work's enchanting equanimity, while inviting a bit more restlessness, accident and grit, with the incorporation of acoustic instruments and improvisation melding Floats' own background in Electroacoustic Studies and Jazz Performance more than ever before.Signature avant-electronic explorations of arpeggiated and timbral transformation, subtle shifts in harmonic consonance and dissonance, and a through-composed praxis that draws coterminously upon free jazz, musique concrète and modern Minimalism, all continue to shape Fourth Album to great effect. But an additional palette of sonic and gestural raw material is now also decidedly "out-of-the-box", charting a wider range of gestures, textures and temporalities. Fourth Album complexifies and intensifies across its 12 tracks, thematizing dualities and introducing new elements of play and accident, even a sort of looseness here and there, as it conjures communal expressivity within shorter, still scrupulous formal structures. Fourth Album also for the first time includes spoken word as a recorded element, previously only (and always) a feature of Markus Floats live performances. The album's final track samples the poet and activist Fred Moten, closing with these words: "What we've been trying to figure out how to get to is how we are when we get together to try to figure it out." This koan of socially-engaged process and creation/advancement of meaning through praxis and immanence reflects the unique fusion of intangible materiality and affective sensibility at work in Markus Floats music, unfolding in new depths and currents with Fourth Album.