Cerca:algorithmic

For her new and most radical album »Electroacoustic Works for Halldorophone«, Martina Bertoni used the electronic instrument at EMS Stockholm to create four pieces that are massive in scale and incredibly intimate, sonically restrained and emotionally overwhelming—almost ambient and always demanding your full attention.

Martina Bertoni returns to Karlrecords with »Electroacoustic Works for Halldorophone,« her most radical album yet. The foundation for the four electroacoustic pieces was laid during a residency at Stockholm’s legendary Elektronmusikstudion (EMS) that the Berlin-based cellist and composer used to explore the curious instrument, originally designed by Halldór Úlfarsson in 2008, as an algorithmic system in order to examine tunings and the mathematical relationships between Aiming to analyse and understand their interaction beyond the composer’s control, Bertoni sought to engage more deeply with the concepts of time, tuning, and, most importantly, control. Accordingly, her four »Electroacoustic Works for Halldorophone« seem both massive in scale and incredibly intimate, sonically restrained and emotionally overwhelming— almost ambient and always demanding your full attention.

While the halldorophone—famously used by Hildur Guðnadóttir for her »Joker« score—roughly resembles a cello and can be played like one, it is an electronic instrument. The vibration of its strings is being picked up, amplified, and then routed through a speaker. This creates a feedback loop that becomes increasingly complex depending on how much gain is added to individual strings. Úlfarsson gave Bertoni a carte blanche for how to handle the instrument, but she stresses that she relied on »minimal interventions—some string strumming and plucking« that set the interactions of different sounds and frequencies into motion. »I decided to not approach it like a cellist would,« she explains. »Instead I used it as a kind of generative organ by turning it into a feedback machine, with tuned feedback triggering more feedback depending on the tuning, which was based on tetraphonic scales that I could apply on the four main strings as well as the sympathetic group of strings.«

Bertoni recorded the material in the EMS studio, later composing and arranging the four complex pieces in her home in Berlin, after which they were mixed and mastered by Ciaran O’Shea. While this can be considered a compositional abstraction process, traces of her concrete work as a performer are firmly ingrained in the music. »The halldorophone doesn’t have a line output, just a double set of speakers, which is why I recorded all sounds with two microphones in the EMS studio,« she explains. »That’s why there’s plenty of breathing sounds here and there—label owner Thomas Herbst and I jokingly refer to the album as my ›chamber music record‹.« And indeed, there is a striking sense of intimacy to these four pieces throughout which individual sounds, harmonic frequencies, and even subtle rhythmic figures seem to move both on their own accord but also according to a underlying vision that steers their interplay.

Indeed, »Electroacoustic Works for Halldorophone« is an album built on and marked by contrasts. The soothing polylogue of single sounds in the higher register on opener »Omen in G« is counterpointed by massive bass drones, while the second piece, »Nominal in D,« plays a cunning game of repetition and difference by combining thick textures with all kinds of rhythmic elements. »Fades in C«—the longest of the four pieces, clocking in at 17 minutes—unlocks the emotional potentials of the sonic qualities of the halldorophone, sounding at once serene and anthemic, and »Organon in D« closes the album by underscoring how Bertoni’s unconventional approach allows her to seamlessly transform simple, quiet tones into complex, towering walls of sound.

Protocolo SysEx aka Fabio Vinuesa lanza este EP en su sello con cuatro pelotazos originales y dos remixes de Boris Divider y Heinrich Mueller.

GEOMETRÍA VIRTUAL documents a scenario in which mechanisms of control cease to function as external layers and instead become the very foundation of the system. The album does not propose a future dystopia, but rather a reality in which decision-making is automated and artificial intelligence is established as a structure of social control.Protocolo SysEx, a project by Fabio Vinuesa, is conceived as a narrative and sonic framework from which to examine the political and philosophical implications of a world governed by artificial intelligence. The release includes reinterpretations by Boris Divider and Heinrich Mueller and constitutes the first chapter of a trilogy focused on the progressive normalization of algorithmic control.

Geometría Virtual EP – Distrito 91 15

a A1 - Geometría Virtual Part I
[b] A2 - Geometría Virtual [Part II]

In Soft Power, Funk Assault turns their surgical precision toward the invisible forces that shape modern life - control not through force, but through aesthetics, etiquette, and algorithms. Across five tightly woven tracks, the duo dissects how obedience is engineered through desire, conformity, and digital seduction.

From the sterile luxury of Aesthetics of Desire to the algorithmic exhibitionism of Like Me, Watch Me, and the chilling calm of Obedience Spa, this EP is a reflection on how control has evolved -smoother, quieter, but no less powerful. Soft Power invites listeners to dance, reflect, and perhaps notice the strings they didn't know were there.

XKatedral Anthology Series II (An Anthology Of Slowly Evolving Timbral Music), featuring exclusive music from Kali Malone, Jessica Ekomane, Mats Erlandsson, Theodor Kentros, Wilma Hultén, and Maria W Horn.

"XKatedral Anthology II is the second instalment in a series of archival releases dedicated to presenting music by composers affiliated with XKatedral working within the realm of slowly evolving harmonic and timbral music. This double-vinyl set contains an array of pieces dating from 2018 - 2020. This collection of pieces focuses on the use of synthetic sound and algorithmic composition languages as tools for precise work within the realm of spectral exploration. In addition to this, the electronic instrumentation in many of the pieces is augmented by acoustic instruments.

The first piece on side A is Kali Malone’s Music for Low Quartet. This piece is an adaptation of the composition “Rose Wreath Crown” originally released on The Sacrificial Code in 2019. In this iteration, the music is scored for two double basses played by Vilhelm Bromander and Zach Rowden, and sine tone electronics performed by Malone herself. The recording of this piece was made at EMS in 2019.

Closing side A is Jessica Ekomane’s ‘First Light’. This computer music piece focuses exclusively on digital sound, layering razor sharp synthetic textures into an otherworldly dynamic weave. The music heard here is a reworked version of a piece originally commissioned by Semibreve in 2020.

Side B contains the work ‘Hands Melt In The Sun’ by Mats Erlandsson. This composition is built from electronically processed tuned zithers and synthetically generated tones arranged in a series of chordal inversions over a sustained fundamental tone. This music, written as a love-letter to the localized drone tradition of Stockholm in the years 2008-2012, was composed and recorded in seven days while in residence at Ställbergs Gruva in Bergslagen, in the summer of 2018.

Opening the second half of the collection is Rough Draft v.7 by Theodor Kentros. Kentros’ compositional practice usually combines acoustic and electronic source material and in this piece he molds the sound of the Buchla 200 and a collection of recorded wind instruments into a molten mass of sound. In its original form, this music was presented as a multichannel immersive work and even in the current stereo configuration it retains some of that enveloping sense of depth.

The second piece on side B, Inertia, is by Wilma Hultén, who makes her debut on record here. An exclusively synthetic piece, Inertia utilizes internal digital feedback in a sealed synthetic system to manifest a harmonic field that swells and abates throughout the length of the piece, interspersed by small gestural elements.

Closing Anthology II is Maria W Horn's work ‘Dies Irae’ for female vocal quartet, pitched glass and synthesis. ‘Dies Irae’ uses a modified form of traditional tonal harmonic language to invoke an uncanny and restless middle ground between the classical western polyphonic vocal tradition and contemporary electronic music. The version heard here is a live recording from Eric Ericssonhallen in Stockholm on May 30th 2020. Performing the piece here are the vocalists Katarina Henryson, Lisa Holmgren, Vilma Ogenblad and Paula Wegmann, as well as Maria herself on glass and electronics."

In the evolving landscape of modern Southern hip-hop, the pairing of Starlito and Bandplay stands out as a unique bridge between street-level authenticity and refined, calculated musicality. Their collaborative project, Not The Country You Know, functions less like a standard release and more as a manifesto—a masterclass in the chemistry between a seasoned, introspective lyricist and a producer who possesses an intuitive grasp of the region's pulse. It is an exploration of legacy and adaptation, capturing the tension between where they came from and where the culture is currently headed.

Bandplay, long recognized for sculpting the sonic identity of Memphis icons, brings his signature, trunk-rattling 808s to the project, yet he manages to pivot here. The production feels remarkably expansive, masterfully blending the raw, stripped-back aesthetics of classic Tennessee rap with forward-thinking textures that refuse to be confined to a single sub-genre. Complementing this, Starlito operates with his trademark mix of cynical observation and genuine vulnerability. He navigates these beats with the weary grace of an artist who has weathered the music industry's relentless cycles, treating every bar like a necessary piece of a larger, ongoing story.

The album’s title serves as a direct commentary on these shifting tides. Across the tracklist, the duo investigates the growing disparity between the romanticized South and the cold realities of the streets, alongside the inevitable evolution of the music business itself. There is no frantic chasing of streaming-era trends or algorithmic bait here; instead, the project remains a stubborn, confident assertion of artistic identity. By weaving together Starlito’s "voice-of-reason" flow and Bandplay’s evolving, genre-bending sound, Not The Country You Know challenges the listener to abandon their preconceived notions of the region, offering instead a complex, urgent vision of a South that is as haunting as it is vibrant.

*Repressed on yellow vinyl

45 Pounds is a record of thrilling cacophony: whirring drums meet the sound of instruments which have been twisted and bent into new shapes, all of which are paired with the arresting growls of Zack Borzone. Across the record the four-piece re-imagine what is possible within the confines of a band set up, creating music that perfectly encapsulates the information overload of our times.

The band have become known for their stellar live performances and now with 45 Pounds they have set that electrifying feeling to record. With 45 Pounds YHWH Nailgun have created a statement that is short to cut through the modern day post-algorithmic sludge. Stay tuned for more news.

Parallax explores the shifting boundary between human intuition and algorithmic logic, a space where two perspectives converge and blur until the center is lost. Composed through a hybrid system of voltage-controlled hardware and digital manipulation, the five tracks apply FM synthesis, granular processing, and bit-level degradation to rigid electro structures. Sequences are shaped by modulation instability and clock drift, gradually disrupting pattern integrity and simulating a loss of systemic control. Precise yet disrupted grooves hint at a deeper malfunction, as if something is corrupting the system from within. Parallax is the gap between the human who creates and the algorithm that imitates.

Gwenan Spearing, known for her perceptive, groove-oriented DJ sets, and more recently as a live performer working with hardware improvisation, launches a new imprint, Phase Space, with Degrees of Freedom, a debut album diving deep into generative electronics, modular systems, and real-time response. Composed and recorded in 2019-2020, the album treats constraint as creative fuel, floating between ambient,
sonic sculpture, and improvisation, mapping Gwenan’s path from rural Wales to Berlin’s outer zones of experimental sound.
Sync opens with a theme on a slow triangle wave, expanding the space as it evolves. Some Pluck explores generative counterpoint using LFOs and Euclidean rhythms. Generator I unfolds in an oscillating time where keyboard and bass circuits cross-modulate. Sleep Pressure is a lullaby for grown-ups, capturing that eerie threshold before sleep, followed by Loper, where time flows fluid and unstable. The closer, Generator II, holds machine heartbeats in delicate equilibrium before unraveling into graceful decay, a soft farewell. (That’s the Universe waving.) Degrees of Freedom is algorithmic music with a pulse: visceral, hand-wired, and built for deep listening.

This is a highly limited pressing, please order your desired quantity and we’ll see what we can supply.

We are pleased to be back with the talented Groof, the experienced producer from Madrid’s legendary electronic music scene, who is responsible for our eighth release and his debut on Kontralamakina.

We welcome you to “Simulation.” This EP/LP consists of a collection of 5 tracks that explore repetition and dynamism, with structures generated by various noise sources and algorithmic sequencing with a raw and forceful sound. It consists of excellently stomping techno rawness exercises.

Plus 1 remix by the techno legend Oscar Mulero Remix; Outstanding mind bending tools, Expertly careful Drone treatments, Stunning, deep, atmospheric but energetic Techno voyage.

The Armenian electronic underground has been quietly brewing something visceral. After years navigating the labyrinth of electronic production from his Yerevan studio, Dave N.A. strips away the excess to reveal six raw, uncompromising cuts that pulse with quiet intensity. Not the manufactured urgency of algorithmic dance floors, but the honest tension of someone who’s spent years refining his craft while the scene evolved around him.

Following his debut ‘Altura EP’ on no•id, where collaborations with freq444 showcased his ability to merge Armenia’s electronic scene with Brussels’ underground pulse, Dave N.A. returns with ‘Echoes EP’ after the label’s necessary creative hibernation. This isn’t about comebacks or grand statements. It’s about persistence. About the kind of restless creativity that emerges when you’ve been grinding in relative obscurity, releasing on labels like Uppers and Downers, Typeless, and Elicit Records, slowly building a sound that refuses easy categorization.

The EP opens hard and unexpectedly with “BLINK,” delivering a throat-cutting and all-consuming bassline. “ECHOES” builds around atmospheric sounds and percussive elements, driven by a straightforward yet effective drum sequence. “SHADO” ventures into darker and faster territory with sparse drum programming and heavy sub-bass emphasis. Both “RUSH” and “ORB” unleash torrents of unrelenting breaks, each percussive hit landing with surgical precision as sub-bass currents pull everything forward into hypnotic repetition. “HUNTER” closes the journey, stalking into frame with predatory low-end and razor-sharp hi-hats slicing through dense atmospheric fog.

The no•id ship continues to chart its course through Brussels’ underground, prioritizing artists who value craft over hype. With Dave N.A.’s return, the label reinforces its commitment to electronic music that functions on multiple levels: cerebral yet visceral, local yet universal.

Finetune — Impulse LP

Singeley Wax presents the third installment of the Russian Series — Finetune's "Impulse" album by electronic musician and media artist Mikhail Komisarov (Michael Dop), co-founder of Slowdance Records.

__About the Music

Finetune is a project through which Mikhail explores and experiments with a sonic palette encompassing ambient, electronic music with elements of jazz and neoclassical. His medium combines modular synthesis, acoustic instruments, field recordings, and deliberately crafted effect chains. He creates distinctive compositions that guide listeners through various emotional states.

The "Impulse" album brings together ten tracks of experimental electronica: hypnotic synthesizer sequences, polyrhythmic structures, cinematic textures, and subtly shifting modulations blend into sonic landscapes where time becomes relative.

__Art Concept

The album's visual identity is based on the multidisciplinary neuro-performance "Impulse," created at the intersection of art and neurotechnology in collaboration with neurovisualization pioneers NeuroLab, digital art studio STAIN (working with algorithmic abstraction since 2009), and physical theatre project "Dancing in the Dark" — Russia's only company featuring visually impaired artists.

During the performance, the brain activity of visually impaired dancers was captured in real-time via neurointerface and transformed into generative graphics. This visual content, born from electrical impulses of consciousness in moments of musical perception, became the foundation for the album's artwork — both static and motion graphics.

LIMITED VINYL COMES IN CARDBOARD SLEEVE WITH BOOKLET!
OSTRANENIE is a collection of digitally manipulated, impressionistic piano miniatures — each named after blockbuster films and TV series. Improvised late at night as a reaction against passive media consumption, these pieces function as both homage and critique, navigating the space between classical impressionism and contemporary digital manipulation. They don’t just deconstruct traditional piano expression; they interrogate the emotional stakes of sound in an era where immersion culture flattens meaning and algorithmic logic erodes agency.

The album’s title references the Russian formalist Viktor Shklovsky’s concept of “ostranenie” (ɐstrɐˈnjenjɪj, estrangement/defamiliarization), a term he introduced in the early 1920s to describe art’s role in resisting the indifference of habitual perception.

“And so, held accountable for nothing, life fades into nothingness. Automation eats away at things, at clothes, at furniture, at our wives, and at our fear of war.”
—Viktor Shklovsky, Theory of Prose (1925)

Shklovsky saw art as a way to break through the anesthetizing effects of routine, stripping away the layers of habit that dull our senses. By making the familiar strange, art reclaims perception from the mechanical and the automatic. His argument wasn’t just a theoretical exercise — it was a response to a world rapidly consumed by industrialization, war machines, and the alienation of a technologically dominated modern life. In this context, he positioned artistic technique as something autonomous, distinct from mere social criticism or psychological reflection. Art seeks to remove “...the crust that the world of things deposits on our senses, with routine’s unending murder of the real.” Ben Ehrenreich on Serena Vitale’s Making Strange (The Nation, 2013)

This tension—between revolutionary/artistic and industrial technologies—defined the 20th century, and it continues to resonate today. The mechanization and automation that fueled the First World War’s devastation, alongside the social and economic turbulence of the 1920s, became central to the era’s self-conception. But just as technology was a source of alienation, it was also positioned as an agent of radical change. As the shock of modernity disrupted the human condition, it also became the driving force behind an ideological utopia — one that ultimately deformed into political totalitarianism — a paradox that remains unresolved.

OSTRANENIE plays within this contradiction. The music shifts seamlessly between an uncanny black MIDI dismantling of traditional piano virtuosity and moments of raw, fragile intimacy. The result is a work that resists automatic anonymity while questioning what it means to create in an era where the technological mediation of sound — and experience itself — is unavoidable: Art in the age of its technological constructedness.

Tresor resident DJs LNS and DJ Sotofett have for some years been developing a style at the club‘s Globus floor, and their new EP is a die cut of exactly the classic techno, electro, and house music they play.
Here are no productions drenched in reverb, no hi-fi obsessions or generic algorithmic patterns – this is Globus Trax, the duo's third release on Tresor Records, four tracks consisting of real TR-909 workouts, rude and driving basslines, live runs through the mixing desk, and a Blake Baxter cover version with LNS on vocals.
LNS & DJ Sotofett programmed an EP to perfectly fit their warehouse style of DJing, bringing out colour and variation in a spectrum more similar to a club compilation than a dogmatically reduced concept. With a single repeated vocal sample, Globus Trax opens bombastically with ClickClickClick, a dub -infused UK garage house track anyone in the world can easily describe in the course of a second.
Following this comes Gearbox which is a hefty slab of big room electro featuring a centerpiece arpeggio and the warmest harmonic pads on the EP's four tracks, which not-so-subtly makes reference to the pioneering band that shares a name with Globus and Tresor's home, the Kraftwerk.
The house vibe returns on Destination 909, which is nothing but a manifesto for the TR-909, where the beloved drum machine's jacking beats meet galactic strings and synthetic bass, only to be ripped apart in a slamming break that sees the machine take centre stage as it cuts in-and-out of the mix, again a clear nod to the duo’s sets in the club.
LNS steps up on vocal duties and DJ Sotofett keeps the 909 running for their final cut, taking a deeper dive into the realms of classic techno and paying tribute to “The Prince of Techno” Blake Baxter by covering his Reach Out originally released on Tresor Records in 1995.
The 12” was cut by DJ Sotofett himself at Manmade Mastering, where he resurrects the lost art of late-90s loud cuts with sonic presence and punch, optimal for the club-focused 12” format, and is the first to come in the new Tresor Sleeve, boasting an embossed logo on either side.

One of the most prolific electro artists of his generation, Boris Bunnik aka Versalife, returns to TRUST with an exceptional soundtrack for the algorithmic hellscape we live in. As neofeudalist power structures solidify around us, Versalife's tracks remain in constant flux. Subtle tonal shifts and undulating synth currents create tension and beauty while crisp machine beats provide the clockwork rhythm for humanity's march into the singularity.

Renegade Methodz presents its various artists 'Breaking Standards' series.

Making its debut with the first edition the four track release is serving as a reflection of modern techno by introducing tracks from artists that are appearing in the label for the very first time as well as a familiar contributor that is making his return.

The Breaking Standards series aims directly at the dance-floor, curated carefully to keep the music quality high and showcase the work of new and established artists that with their style are keeping the genre modern and fresh without losing the essence of what makes this music timeless.

Clear Vinyl

Tacit Group is an audio-visual group founded in 2008 with a vision of creating new art for the 21st century. Based in Seoul but working globally, the group comprises composer Jaeho Chang and electronic musician Gazaebal(Lee Jinwon).

With audio-visual art as its core content, Tacit Group has expanded in a contemporary and experimental way in multimedia performances, interactive installations, and music installations. Representative works such as ‘Hun-Min-Jeong-Ak,’ ‘Game Over,’ ‘Morse ㅋung ㅋung,’ combine a systematic worldview weaved through intuitive materials and technology inspired by normal everyday activities such as games and text chatting. In particular, works that utilize the beauty and communica- tion power of characters are among their most striking.

“It’s like wind chimes,” says Tacit Group’s Jeaho Chang. “The creator makes the pipes, but the wind makes the music.” He’s talking about the algorithmic music that Tacit Group creates. Jaeho and Gazaebal create audio/visual systems using code that the pair work within to unleash their utterly compelling AV performances, each show, each track, as unique as a snowflake. The pair met at Korea National University of Arts in 2006. Jaeho Chang was a media installation artist and composer who’d studied classical composition in Korea and electronic music at Den Haag’s Conservatoire. Gazaebal, who’d moved to the US as a teen, had worked at the renowned Quad group studios as a sound engineer, recording acts including Rage Against The Machine, Wu Tang and Janet Jackson. Returning to Korea, he had found success as a K-Pop producer, (founding the act Banana Girl, and writing their No.1 Korean hit ‘Shake Your Ass’) and DJing under the moniker Gazaebal, before deciding to go ‘back to school’ to learn to create more challenging music.
The quiet and reserved Jae and the more outgoing Gazaebal bonded over a shared vision, forming Tacit Group in 2008. And until recently, everything they have done has been through the medium of their globally acclaimed live shows, playing all over the world from Lincoln Center in NY, the Museum of Contemporary Art in Chicago, MMCA (National Museum of Modern and Contemporary Art) and Nam June Paik Art Center in Korea, Aarhus Festival in Denmark, Stereolux in France and NYU Abu Dhabi.

Each show an utterly unique and compelling event, a synthesis of music and visual art that has echoes of the concept of synesthesia: “we love the idea that the audience can ‘see’ the music.” says Gazaebal, “the way that you can hear a painting like Edvard Munch’s ‘The Scream’.” The frameworks and systems are created in advance using code such as C++ and max/M- SP(sometimes combined with analog and modular synthesizers), often growing out a of a simple idea (one of their first composi- tions, ‘Game Over’ explored the idea of a Tetris gameplay as a musical score) while on stage the pair react to the audience, creating new inputs and variables that can lead the performance in ways that are unexpected and even self sustaining - some of their installations could in theory continue to evolve and run on into infinity.

For Tacit Group, the process is as important as the outcome, and every bit as fascinating for the audience, who’ve been known to react like the crowd at a rock band gig to tracks / installations like ‘Hun-Min-Jeong-Ak’ which sees abstract geometric shapes based on the Korean alphabet evolve (through the process of live text interchanges between the pair) to become almost an immersive call and response.With that in mind, the duo have long been reluctant to commit to the idea of releasing via a ‘fixed medium’ it was actually the release of an acclaimed (and beautifully designed) book Tacit.print0_Anthology that convinced them to share their work more widely through an album.

NTD005 adds a new artist to the collective - Metamethod aka Simon Haynes.From Adelaide, Australia, Metamethod (Undefined Recordings) returns from a long hiatus with a new EP.
The product of much time refining sounds and ideas, both tracks on the EP are essential synthesis. Sounds primarily sculpted from scratch, resulting in biochemical rhythms and algorithmic loops.
A must have record for anyone wanting to add some raw energy to their collection.

DFR is back with a rather mysterious alias first appearance. Signal Priest delivers four dance-floor workouts that intersect between techno, trance and electro with admirable sense. TIP

Between flesh and silicon. “Under My Skin” (2026) is the first album by IADI, released by Neo Life. A record like few
others, highly conceptual, cover art included. Its essence lies in the folds of the increasingly ambiguous relationship
between man and machine, where the former designs the latter and, perhaps without fully realizing it, is gradually
destined to adapt and be reprogrammed by it. Each track of “Under My Skin” is, in fact, a sort of interface, connector, or
any other imaginative point of contact between two creative phases, amid emotional impulses and binary calculations.
The sonic architecture oscillates between analog warmth and algorithmic coldness, constructing landscapes in which
pulsating synthesizers and mechanical rhythms seem to question each other. There's no linear narrative, but rather a
progressive immersion in a zone of near-friction, where the comfort of technology coexists with more than a faint
musical uneasiness, like a background noise that never ceases to remind you who's truly in charge. In “Under My Skin”,
the machine is neither an enemy nor a simple instrument: it's a real presence, intimate, even tactile, amplifying desires,
fears, and dreams of dawns beyond the digital realm. Intelligent dance music. Less noise, more sensations. Electronic,
but profoundly human.
The final result, then, is a music project that speaks to the present, yet sounds like an X-ray of the future, capturing that
fragile moment when humanity and technology stop observing each other from afar and begin to merge, track after
track. It's no coincidence that IADI's album opens with “Impulse”, an immediate expression of an electrical impulse, for
both humans and machines, which is also the language of the nervous system, as fast as it is vital—pure energy and
rhythm, a track as intense as it is irregular. And after this introduction, it's the turn of the equally erratic “Axon”, whose
title describes the neuron that transmits the signal over distance, telling the listener to sit back and relax for a new
journey through the notes toward the more melodic “Cortex”. The cerebral cortex, the ultimate seat of thought and
memory, becomes the source from which the musical flow of the first part of the work is drawn.
Then, suddenly, an automatic, or instinctive, response to the constant succession of impulses: “Reflex”, or zerotemperature techno, with a fragmented pace, featuring vocal samples, breaks, and restarts. In the producer's
imagination, the subsequent, and conversely placid, “Neuron” represents the emotional core of the second part of the
work, providing a kind of respite from the seething vibrations. While the neuron is the basic unit of the nervous system,
the synapse is the functional connection point between one neuron and another effector cell, essential for the
transmission of nerve impulses and communication in the nervous system, enabling functions such as learning and
movement. Likewise, a track like “Synapse” once again illuminates the path traced by IADI. The more experimental and
streamlined “Static” instead suggests true ordered chaos. “Dreamstate” is the conclusion suspended in the void, relating
to that dreamlike state between waking and sleeping, where consciousness fades toward infinity and visions begin. Pure
fading into the subconscious. Eternal return to where it all began. Dancing is a form of consciousness. Every beat is a
question. IADI, however, holds all the answers you need.

In the spring of 1971, somewhere between Brussels, Paris and a collective pop fever dream, Le Monde Fabuleux Des Yamasuki landed on vinyl. It sounded like nothing else then and it still does not today. More than half a century later, Sdban Records proudly presents a reissue of this singular cult album, available from April 3, 2026 on vinyl.

The album was produced by Jean Kluger and written both by Jean and Daniel Vangarde (aka Bangalter, later the father of Thomas Bangalter of Daft Punk), who were alreadywell ahead of their time, long before electronic music rewrote the rules of pop culture.

Released under the name Yamasuki, also referred to as The Yamasuki Singers, or The Yamasuki's, the project was never intended as a conventional band. It was a studio-born fantasy, a concept album disguised as a pop record. What began as a standalone single quickly expanded into a full-blown pan-cultural pop opera that ignored genres and common sense with joyful abandon.

Musically, the album sits at a delirious crossroads. Psychedelic pop collides with funk rhythms, samba and bubblegum melodies, full of chants and choruses in a phonetic pseudo-Japanese, written with the help of a dictionary. Kluger and Vangarde famously recruited a children's choir to perform the vocals, and for added spectacle, they brought in a Japanese judo grandmaster, whose ritualistic shouts and battle cries erupt throughout the record.

Several singles were released. One of them, Yamasuki, with accompanying dance move, appeared in the United Kingdom and France on John Peel's Dandelion label, a fitting home for a record that thrived on the margins of pop culture. Its B-side, Aieaoa, proved even more potent. In 1975, the song was reborn as A.I.E. (A Mwana) by Black Blood, an African group recording in Belgium, this time sung in Swahili. That melody would travel even further. Aie a Mwana became the debut single of English pop group Bananarama, and in 2010 it resurfaced once more as Helele, an official song of the FIFA World Cup, recorded by South African singer Velile Mchunu with Danish percussion duo Safri Duo. That version became the most widely known incarnation of the song. With Jean Kluger directly involved, it was less a cover than a continuation of the original idea.

The album's afterlife did not stop there. Over the years, Yamasuki has been quietly sampled, covered, and featured across media far beyond the realm of novelty pop. Kono Samourai was sampled in The Healer by Erykah Badu (2007), produced by Madlib, while Yama Yama has found its way into recent pop culture as well: appearing in the television series Fargo, on Angus Stone's project Dope Lemon, and on the 2008 Late Night Tales compilation curated by Arctic Monkeys drummer Matt Helders. Proof, if any were needed, that this strange little record carries a deeper musical DNA than its playful exterior might suggest.

This new reissue of Le Monde Fabuleux Des Yamasuki proves the renewed interest and respect for this cult album, faithful to the original spirit while finally giving it back the physical presence it deserves. In an era obsessed with genres and algorithmic neatness, Yamasuki still laughs, dances and karate-kicks its way past definitions. It reminds us that pop music can be playful without being disposable, strange without being cynical and joyfulwithout explanation. The world of Yamasuki was always fabulous, we are just lucky it found its way back to us!

Meticulously assembled from a good 15 years' worth of source material, Cong Burn boss John Howes' second Paperclip Minimiser transmission proliferates its predecessor's network of turn-of-the-millennium aesthetics and concepts, bringing us closer to the lost future promised by the mid-digital age. If the debut album rooted itself in 2006, using an era-specific rig to activate its vintage Winamp-ready sound, 'II' pushes the clock forward just a little, recycling an unreleased album that Howes engineered in various locations across the north of England, starting way back in 2011. Working quickly and methodically with his homebrewed "DIY DAW" system, Howes improvised live using the record's bank of sounds, transforming the skittering bio-electronic rhythms, bitcrushed modem whines and inclement Lancs soundscapes into a suite of sleek, bass heavy steppers.

Howes has refined his setup and process over the years to function as an antithesis of contemporary production logic, a system that he can use easily to retreat from the excessive layering, overdubbing and editing that plagues modern electronic music. With only limited separate channels in each track, 'II' sounds both archaic and strangely novel. Showing respect to the early days of techno, when stone-cold classics were jammed out live using just a drum machine, a sampler and a couple of synths, Howes simultaneously acknowledges the promise of the transition to a digital future, as nascent algorithmic technology began to rehydrate stale rhythmic and melodic patterns. Fabricating its wrinkled cyberpunk landscape from shovelware blips and whines, spacious environmental echoes and lustrous, plasticky FM hits, 'II' is dense but never congested. It's a reminder that bass music thrives when it's given the room it needs to breathe.

“Certain albums hit like howling bullets at pivotal moments, tearing open the face of music to reveal hidden sonic muscles and fusing them back into something both strangely familiar and yet entirely unrecognisable. We believe this is one of those records.”

The double album Death of Music delivers 18 crooked vocal pops, some ruthless, others unexpectedly disarming. In some songs, Ajukaja & Mart Avi function like a two-headed saurus swinging its spiky tail to shady pop-house smackers. In others, Ajukaja's serene organ licks descend into subterranean caverns, allowing Avi to float to the surface on their wavelengths and turn his voice into billions of extinct moths, enslaved by the moonlight’s pull. There are songs that face destruction and those that seek to prevent it.

One kykeon rap goes, “If you die before you die, then when you die, you don't die!”. Ajukaja & Mart Avi have embraced this notion to create new music that allows them to thrive in the algorithmic wasteland. 13 years in the making, these 66 minutes are packed with lifetimes of truths you didn’t know you needed to know. They are Ajukaja & Mart Avi – two against death.

Produced by Ajukaja
Words by Mart Avi, Music by Raul Saaremets
Guitar and Bass by Sten Sheripov (Can’t Touch The Earth, Safe)
Sax by Steve Vanoni (I.D.O.L.)
Recorded between 2011—2024
Mastered by The Bastard
Cover Photo by fs
Sleeve by Marke, Mart Avi
Pressed in Tartu, Estonia

West Mineral returns with lushly amorphous actions by Shiner, Pontiac Streator & Ben Bondy aka Shinetiac; together fused for an immersive flux of vapoured dub, chopped and droned Billie Eilish, and fidgety algorithmic jams.

There's not a single, specific sound you can peg to the West Mineral axis at this stage in the label’s evolution - it's rather a set of shared aesthetics that freely bend into various interconnected shapes. Shinetiac's contemptuous, critic-baiting gear is the ideal example; on their last album, 2023's 'Not All Who Wander Are Lost', skittery, ketamized IDM sparkled over Spice Girls samples and the Foo Fighters' 'Everlong' was transmuted into Sneaker Pimps-style trip-hop. 'Infiltrating Roku City' might be a little less blatant with its out-and-out poptimism, but it takes a similarly dim view of conservative "big ambient" snobbishness. Just a few minutes of 'Bluemosa' should be enough to let you know what's up; the overall character of the sound is hazed, with frozen pads and garbled, dubbed-out voices smudged into a mess of effects and samples. But it sups up different nuances as it wriggles, absorbing scampering breaks, dizzy acoustic guitar strums and half-heard wordless vocals, flipping in the third act to emerge from its shell as minimalist balearic folk-pop - something like Bon Iver doing 'Electric Counterpoint'.

Brooklyn's Shiner, Philly's Pontiac Streator and Berlin-based Ben Bondy navigate the labyrinthine streaming landscape, guided by their own private experiences of mindless doom-scrolling and cruising the darkest corners of YouTube. They formulated 'Infiltrating Roku City' while they were rehearsing last year and spent the winter stitching together various recordings and jams into a layered, dry-witted commentary on our algorithmic reality. Laden with inside jokes and refried memes, it's surprisingly elegant gear; handling the most unseemly elements like sonic recyclers, earnestly repurposing pop and nostalgia to create an atmospheric echo of contemporary reality.

Screwing Chief Keef's enduring 'Citgo', 'Clublyfe (hulu)' emphasises the original's AFX-pilled euphoria with Robert Miles-style piano hits, replacing Young Ravisu's brittle 128kbps trap rhythm with a glitchy rattle that picks up dembow spikes as it rolls. 'I Hate Being Sober' vaporises the Chicago drill pioneer's 'Hate Bein' Sober', blocking out his voice with glitchy, downsampled interference and elasticated Rhodes. The trio team up with Orange Milk's goo age on the sublime 'Crisis Angel', catching a ray of Malibu's sunshine in the process, and reduce Billie Eilish's voice to a Romance-does-Celine cinder on 'Billie', stretching it to fit next to gassed Future ad-libs and swooping 808 Mafia sub womps. And although the album takes a murky diversion on 'Roku Axes Ultra’, and a cloud-stepping centrepiece ‘Purelink’ in homage to the eponymous dubbed ambient dynamos, it's back on course with 'Jiafei (NETFLIX)', taking aim at TikTok bot videos and welding screams from Florida metal band Underoath to AI-strength vocal curlicues.

Three musicians, three worlds: raga, jazz, and their own imagination. East, West, and the fusion in between. Rhythm, melody, and harmony. Past, present, and future.With 3, Ragini Trio experiences a rebirth - after years of deep exploration into long-form ragas, South Indian Carnatic traditions, konnakkol, and Western jazz.Thirteen years after their debut, this album stands as an homage to both worlds. By refusing to play things "as they should be played," Ragini Trio finds the in-between space - that magnetic tension where jazz and Indian classical music meet and transform each other.



Inspired by the traditional Indian trio of tabla, flute, and tanpura, Ragini offers its mirrored jazz response: drums, saxophone, and double bass. The result unites jazz, which seeks freedom within structure, with raga, which seeks structure within freedom. Far from purism or imitation, Ragini Trio crafts a living dialogue between rhythm, melody, and tone colour.



And it's a statement. Bursting with energy, depth, and self-irony, 3 is a vibrant antidote to the algorithmic recycle-music of today and tomorrow - born from the chemistry of three exceptional artists: saxophonist Nathan Daems, drummer Lander Gyselinck, and double bassist Marco Bardoscia.

A chance meeting in Mexico City set Points of Inaccessibility into motion. When Ibero-American composer Rafael Anton Irisarri crossed paths with Dutch media artist Jaco Schilp at MUTEK in 2024, a conversation about how technology shapes perception revealed an unexpected common ground. Schilp invited Irisarri to a spring 2025 residency at Uncloud, the Utrecht-based collective he co-founded, where Irisarri's sound began to take form amid an environment shaped by Schilp’s visual research.

The Uncloud studio was located inside the former Pieter Baan Centre, a forensic psychiatric prison where suspects of violent crimes were once confined. Its long history of silence and containment shaped the atmosphere in which the project developed. Within this setting, Irisarri coaxed long bowed-guitar tones through a network of pedals and looping systems. The raw gestures thickened into a vaporous and architectural field of sound. Schilp processed the material through a custom point-cloud software patch that produced images in continuous flux. The visuals flickered, dissolved and reformed like memories that resist coherence, functioning as a digital Rorschach that reflected the observer’s own perception.

Amid these spectral echoes, the project evolved into an examination of how the past persists within present signals. Memory endures as residue and interference, continually shaping perception even when its source has faded.

Schilp’s visual process required a continuous stream of sound in real time. Irisarri improvised throughout the residency, generating material that allowed the visuals to develop in parallel. Once back in his New York studio, he began shaping the recordings by carving pathways through the improvisations and mapping selected passages into MIDI. This process allowed him to build outward from the bowed-guitar material with minimal overdubs, adding Prophet 5 textures, Moog bass and strings that expanded the harmonic field while keeping the original performances at the center. To refine the structure, Abul Mogard provided editorial input, working with Irisarri’s stems to guide transitions and strengthen the overall pacing. The material, originally created under conditions of immediacy and constraint, evolved into a fully realized work through careful revision, patience and sustained reworking.

The title engages the geographic concept of the Poles of Inaccessibility, locations defined solely by their distance from all surrounding points. Irisarri adapts this idea to the conditions of digital life, where new forms of inaccessibility arise through the informational enclosures that structure perception. What appears to be a fully connected network often produces a deeper kind of separation, one shaped by the filtering logic of the systems that mediate experience. In this sense, the digital sphere mirrors its geographic counterpart. We inhabit spaces saturated with signals, yet the possibility of genuine contact becomes increasingly remote.

At its core, Points of Inaccessibility considers what can be understood as the new rituals of capitalist realism. Irisarri uses the term digital shamanism to describe the forms of simulated connection that organize contemporary life. These systems promise comfort through algorithms, influencers and AI interlocutors, yet they often reproduce the same conditions that generate loneliness in the first place. What appears as connection becomes the echo of connection, a sequence of gestures that imitate solidarity while withholding it. Like the geographic poles, these rituals are defined by distance. They pull us into environments where everything is illuminated, yet meaningful proximity becomes increasingly rare. In this sense, the work approaches a hauntology of the present, a reflection on futures that have stalled and intimacies that have been thinned by the algorithmic infrastructures that surround us.

This thematic tension unfolds across the album’s four movements. Faded Ghosts of Clouds introduces the work with textures that rise and dissipate in slow cycles, creating an atmosphere that resists clear definition. Breaking the Unison occupies a pivotal position in the sequence and focuses on the moment when the individual and the system fall out of alignment. Its shifting patterns trace the scattering of signals that once suggested connection, revealing the instability at the heart of contemporary perception. Signals from a Distant Afterglow forms the center of the album and features vocals by Karen Vogt, whose presence enters the sound field like a fragile transmission shaped by distance and delay. The closing piece, Memory Strands, follows motifs that appear, recede and briefly intersect before returning to quiet. Across these movements, the album outlines a landscape in which emergence and disappearance continually inform one another.

Listening to Points of Inaccessibility is an encounter with a sound field that is constantly in flux. Elements surface briefly, shift position and recede, creating a sense of motion that resists stable interpretation. The music moves between closeness and vastness, carrying traces of memory while withholding a clear point of resolution.

The album’s visual identity completes the project’s conceptual arc. In Mexico City, where Irisarri and Schilp first met, Daniel Castrejón transformed stills from Schilp’s point-cloud visuals into the cover image. The final artwork captures a single suspended frame of the digital material, a moment extracted from a field that is normally in constant motion. Its surface recalls the texture and abstraction found in the work of Catalan artist Antoni Tàpies, where material presence and erasure coexist within the same plane.

What emerges is a work that examines the tension between technological systems and human presence. Points of Inaccessibility asks whether connection is still possible within environments shaped by mediation and delay, or whether we have become isolated points within the very networks that promise proximity. What possibilities for relation persist within environments organized by algorithms and interruption? And how are we meant to understand presence when so much of it is constructed at a distance?

Points of Inaccessibility will be released on BioVinyl on February 6, 2026, with audiovisual performances planned throughout 2026.

Mastered by Stephan Mathieu
Artwork by Jaco Schilp
Design and layout by Daniel Castrejón
Artist photo by Iulia Alexandra Magheru.

'In 2023, sound artist and composer Weston Olencki toured across the American South. Beginning in their hometown in South Carolina, they snaked a circuitous path from the mountains of West Virginia to the banks of the Mississippi River. As the miles accumulated, so did the initial seeds of new work.
'Instruments and artifacts they acquired hitched a ride in the backseat, while songs and sounds filled their portable recorder: water in its various states, the familiar insectoid buzz of those summer nights, trains cutting through the landscape, the traditional music that lived alongside the communities that kept it. Olencki took it all in, and over time, found ways that these experiences coalesced into a bramble-like perspective of time, where past, present, and future intersect in ways both barbed and beautiful.
'Broadsides, Olencki’s newest solo full-length is the multilayered result of this journey. The album follows their landmark release Old Time Music from 2022, which presented radical interpretations of traditional tunes from Appalachia and throughout the South alongside original compositions that drew significantly on archival recordings. On Broadsides, Olencki rejects delineations between the unmoored avant-garde and the rootedness of one’s cultural heritage, revealing their porous and intertwined nature. “My mother was a quilter. Her mother before that,” they write in the album’s liner notes. “Quilting, like music, is a practice of embedding knowledge and remembrance into the very core of the thing you are making. It’s not just about the materials, but how they’re reassembled, recontextualized, stitched, woven to form new patterns - the minutiae of craft holding significance to those looking to find it. Stories woven from stories, never told the same way twice.”
'Like all great road trips, Broadsides unfolds slowly and continuously, with moments of dramatic reverie punctuating the endless melt of highway in the rearview. We’re immediately confronted by the uncanniness of revisiting old haunts, as Southern storms break through the initial churn of the freight locomotives of Alabama. Olencki’s interpretation of the bluegrass standard “Foggy Mountain Breakdown” captures the euphoria of melancholy in motion. The permutational plucks of banjo are bounced around the frame by a computer, its pitches determined within algorithmic sequences and transcriptions of classic three-finger licks. The tonalities of old-time are smeared and stretched until all that’s audible is the insistence that Heaven might be real.
'In the album’s second half, “Omie Wise,” a murder ballad made famous by Doc Watson, follows an interlude recorded on the river in North Carolina in which the titular character’s body was laid. Ghostly echoes of a dozen other renditions float through the substrata as Tongue Depressor’s Henry Birdsey accompanies them on the pedal steel guitar. The album’s central composition, “all my father’s clocks,” is a profound meditation on entropy and impermanence. The sound of their father’s extensive clock collection ticks away as Olencki pulls a bow across the length of an autoharp sourced from a rural strip mall. The instrument was left as detuned as it was found, the resonance of its deep bass drone and clanging high-end the result of years of neglect and the warping effects of Southern humidity.
'Historically, broadsides were an early form of broadcasting, an often- musicalized telling of current news pasted in the public square. The name was later taken up by Sis Cunningham and Gordon Friesen in the 1960s, whose Broadside magazine published songs and social commentary when American folk music resurfaced as an urgent way of communicating the multifaceted politics of its time.
'Olencki borrows the phrase to recall both this old form of songmaking and that later prominent reexamination of traditional music’s role in modern life, but also to draw attention to the fragmented and machine- mediated way heritage is diffused in this very different, but no less pivotal, moment.
'As a sanitized past is used as justification for current violence and domination, we can turn to these artifacts to better understand the history of ourselves, but only if they are consciously pushed to evolve. Broadsides represents one personal, striking vision of what far-flung futurisms could be respun from = these high, lonesome sounds: a reflection of the unbridled joy and deep sorrow inherent to living together through time, and a desire to push further into the untold and unknown.'

On »Empty Room,« David Granström works with slow transformations, cyclical and isometric patterns as well as just intonation as a way to create harmonic stability, allowing his long-form pieces to develop their own unique temporal and spatial qualities. A prolific figure in Stockholm’s experimental drone scene and a collaborator of Hallow Ground label mates Maria W Horn and Mats Erlandsson, the Swedish composer navigates through moments of quietude and crushing volume on these five tracks. Sonically and atmospherically, the pieces on »Empty Room« simultaneously call to mind Fennesz’s most meditative work or the physical experience of seeing Sunn O))) live, blending guitar recordings and synthesised sounds with forceful effects similar to those of Mario Díaz de Leon’s Oneirogen project while still being as moving and delicate as Alessandro Cortini’s solo work. The album is marked by melodies and harmonies that are the product of a peculiar working process that turned the composer into an intent listener collaborating with, rather than simply using technology.

Having been invited by the self-organising artist group The Non Existent Center for a residency to Ställbergs Gruva, a defunct iron ore mine in Sweden’s Bergslagen region, Granström took his guitar as a starting point for his compositional work that heavily relies on real-time sound synthesis. »I seldomly use the instrument as a sound source in the final compositions and rather transcribe and orchestrate the harmonic structures using sound synthesis,« he explains. »On this album however, I chose to include the actual recordings of the guitar in order to extend the spectra between non-referential synthetic sounds and embodied referential sounds.« Working with precise tunings in order to blend the timbre of the synthesis with the harmonic structures of the composition, he created composite sound objects in which the harmonic elements blend into each other.

Through the re-amplification of synthetic musical materials from the inside of the abandoned mine, his original compositions were enriched with site-specific sound qualities before he further refined them in a singular working process. Granström works with algorithmic and generative processes, using the SuperCollider programming environment and thus blurring the lines between generative and creative forms of composition. »One of the things that I like about this way of working is that it creates a distance between myself as a composer and myself as a listener of the music that is produced entirely by the system,« he says. Granström’s technologically aided eschewing of the conventions of composing doesn’t make the end result any less personal, however. By listening again and again to the newly generated output, Granström simply took on a different role in the process of finalising the music, with the technology and the sounds becoming his co-authors.

By creating systems that generate music, he gains a new perspective on (musical) time, says Granström. »There doesn't have to be a fixed length to the music at all,« he explains. »And by writing music with this in mind, my focus tends to shift towards writing cyclical structures that gradually change and transform over time.« Simple parts, in other words, that emerge as the five complex wholes that form »Empty Room,« a record that itself seems to take on different forms with every new listen.

Editions Mego is proud to release the new album by Australian producer Jasmine Guffond. Developed over a two year period, Microphone Permission is an unsettling musical journey utilising contemporary tools of communication to display Guffond's ongoing research into online surveillance and sound as a method of investigation.

Source material on Microphone Permission are from various projects Guffond has been working on; a commission to sonify the data of the city of Melbourne, a dance performance about the future sounds of an extinct forest, an installation that sonifies Twitter meta data in real time, a job as a composer for a theatre work about music and feminism by five young female identifying performers in Western Sydney and a site specific installation at the Linachtalsperre dam that employed the harmonic frequencies of electric currents.

The results are a stark, brooding, disorientating journey into a paranoid musical field that sits somewhere between ambient club music and a dystopian soundtrack. Elements of techno, classical music and sound art form a dark intriguing masterwork that questions the nature of invasive, algorithmic and computational listening practices.

For example Microphone Permission refers to the consent we routinely give when installing various apps. onto our smart devices. Inspired by a 2018 scandal in which fans of Spain's most popular soccer team were effectively turned into unwitting spies by granting the La Liga application microphone permission. No matter which make or model, all smart devices are built with a microphone that is by default, forever listening. Listening in these situations often takes on an algorithmic form that enables tech developers to bypass public response to what is intuitively considered invasive practice, that is, traditional modes of eavesdropping such as using the microphone to listen and record audio.

Previously released on Jeff Mills' Axis Records as part of The Escape Velocity series, The Hidden Notes projects finds Rod20 (aka ROD) exploring the deeper more intimate space-trip side of Techno. "With techno verging towards the peak of mainstream exposure, alongside algorithmic distractions altering our sub-consciousness, The Hidden Notes Project shows my deepest intimate quest into inner psychoacoustics frequencies, without the urgency to shout, convince or adapt in a rat race driven outside world. Sequences of bleeps & tones that the modern ear has grown accustom to in the wider context of noise. But what if we become the noise controlling our existence? What if undiscovered planets and abstract concepts we humans don't understand were hidden in our consciousness all along? Which stars are we actually chasing? Most above all The Hidden Notes Project finds me leaving the theory of context and embracing the purpose of internal control."

TIMEPOINT is the studio album distilled from Stéphane Bissières’ eponymous audiovisual performance, where modular synthesis meets generative real-time visuals. In the live show, sound and image are intertwined: each musical gesture informs a visual response, creating a dynamic, evolving environment where music and visuals interact organically.

Paris-based composer and new media artist Stéphane Bissières works at the intersection of electronic music, generative art, and cybernetics. He develops algorithmic systems that explore timbre, structure, and the interplay of energies, translating data into immersive sensory experiences.

For TIMEPOINT, Bissières transforms the live, algorithmic energy into a self-contained sonic journey. Using modular synthesis and generative composition, he builds intricate, evolving textures that balance chaos and structure — a sonic ecosystem reflecting movement, pattern, and organic order.

The music explores timbre as a central element, sculpting sounds that resonate with the visual patterns of the performance. Each track functions as a microcosm of the show: algorithmically generated sequences, cybernetic textures, and evolving layers converge to form a lush, immersive soundscape.

TIMEPOINT invites listeners to explore a world where technology, imagination, and organic structure coexist. It’s an intimate translation of a live audiovisual universe, now accessible as a focused listening experience.

Lexachast is an ongoing collaborative work by Amnesia Scanner, Bill Kouligas & Harm van den Dorpel.
Initially birthed as a joint, improvised performance between Amnesia Scanner and Kouligas at the ICA, London in 2015, it was later recreated and extended with visual artist van den Dorpel into a 15-minute online-only audiovisual work – known simply as Lexachast. Since then, it has expanded into a live show that has been performed at Transmediale, CTM Festival, Unsound Krakow & Adelaide, Next and LEV Festival and during Paris Fashion Week in collaboration with the brand Ottolinger. Now to be released on PAN, is a new document of Lexachast in its current, full-grown form.
Whilst broadly inspired by the experience derived from and exposure to algorithmic patterns as generated by visual artist Harm van den Dorpel’s specially- devised program, the work is a sonic reference to the fallouts of avant-EDM and cyberdrone. This in turn is simultaneously mirrored by the perturbing visuals, created by a unique algorithm that sources and blends various filtered imagery from DeviantArt and Flickr in real time – with a bias towards the NSFW, extreme banality, and ornamental melancholia. The results were a perfect fit for the deliberate intention of non-intent, an anti-video of sorts, which ended up as a defining element for the project.

Recorded in concert at the University of Sheffield in March 2025, Reality Is Not A Theory is the first collaboration between Mark Fell and Pat Thomas. Major figures in British experimental music since the 1990s, Fell and Thomas have developed their rigorous practices from radically different backgrounds and perspectives: where Fell’s singular take on synthetic abstraction emerged from Sheffield’s electronic underground, Thomas is a virtuoso improvising pianist steeped in jazz and modernist art music who has simultaneously worked with sampler-based electronics for decades. As the record’s wonderfully academic subtitle explains, we are presented here with two sides of ‘algorithmic and improvised music for computer and piano’, exemplifying both players’ insatiable search for new (and sometimes uncomfortable) playing situations.

The performance begins with Fell’s electronics close to the timbres of acoustic percussion, attacks that suggest wood, metal or glass threaded along a rapid pulse while Thomas focuses on the lowest registers of the piano, deadening the strings. As Fell’s electronics start to ring out and occupy more harmonic space, Thomas turns to wide, repeated clusters, which slowly expand into patterns of chords. Like in his recent solo recordings and his trio work with Joel Grip and Anton Gerbal, Thomas’ playing combines extreme dissonance with a deep lyrical sense. Fell’s work gradually shifts its focus toward drum sounds, drawing on the microtemporal processes that have characterized his practice in recent decades. Heard together with Thomas’ probing piano, the computer sounds call up unexpected associations with the klangfarben antics of improv drummers like Paul Lovens or Tony Oxley. Throughout its second half, the music grows increasingly frenetic, as Thomas sounds out rapid, irregularly repeated figures and beautifully sour chords in the upper register, while Fell’s percussion develops into angular pan-pipe-like feedback and waves of glissandi.

With great confidence and patience, Fell and Thomas often let their individual contributions remain rhythmically distinct and unsynchronised, allowing unexpected correspondence and coincidence to guide the music’s development. Recorded in a hall named after Sheffield steel manufacturer and Master Cutler Mark Firth, the location might suggest a model for understanding how Fell and Thomas interact here: two workers in the same workshop, each immersed in their own part of the production process. Arriving in a striking sleeve designed by Mark Fell, with liner notes by Francis Plagne, Reality Is Not A Theory is an invigorating document of the meeting of two mavericks of contemporary music.

Slip is Paul Abbott’s response to his 3 day residency at OTO in 2023. It’s a continued exploration of the acoustic-digital hybrid drum setup Abbott has been developing for some time, which involves drum kit and synthetic sounds combined closely—through an entanglement of limbs and cables—in an intimate but strange relationship with each other.

Paul Abbott hasn’t had any formal musical training, but has a long history of making music, having collaborated for years with Seymour Wright, Pat Thomas, Michael Speers, Cara Tolmie, Anne Gillis and many others. Eventually, led by a profound suspicion of what is fixed or limited, Abbott began finding other ways to organise sound - or what he calls ‘material’:

“I wanted a way to 'persuade' or guide the possibility of something happening - my activity or the events of an algorithmic composition - for example, but without certainty or formalism. It felt to me, during playing, that certain ideas had a particular sort of shape, but more than the form of a line. I began to write alongside (before/after) playing the drums, and ‘characters’ began to enter the scene as a more wobbly, and therefore appropriate option to notation. Working with these characters allowed me to simultaneously approach body, imagination, language and music: without dividing things up or separating these aspects from each other. It allowed me to leave things messy and entangled, whilst trying to deal with form and specificity: wanting to have some things feel or respond differently to other things at other times.”

In approaching his residency, Abbott developed a fixed cast of characters - crystal, lleaf, reiy.F, reiy.C, strike, nee, qosel, sphu and aahn. They each communicate using different kinds of movement and drum kit/s, and Abbott choreographed them as ‘dances’ based on different feelings, or outlines of behaviours suggestive of ways of moving (body, drums, sounds). He then arranged these characters into ‘compositions’: one for each performance day, with each composition featuring multi-layered activity - options for behaviours, ways to move around the rooms, play drums, develop synthetic sounds, change the lights or re-distribute the sound in the space.

After the performances, Abbott took home 9 hours of recordings split into up to 28 multitrack channels for each day, and re-organised his cast once more into a performance for 2LP, CD and digital. It’s an enormous amount of work - but Abbott is activated by the process. For him, the pleasure of unstable edges, possibilities, slippages, is the vital attraction. Like all living organisms, Abbott’s characters have malleability and responsivity. They stimulate a bundle of possible behaviours, a tendency to act a certain way, a temperament, a boundary of respective limits or affordances.

It’s an affective way of working, inclusive of Roscoe Mitchell, Sun Ra, Nathaniel Mackey and Milford Graves. In ‘Pulseology’(2022), Milford Graves reminds us, ‘Breath varies, so cardiac rhythm never has that (metronomic) tempo. It’s always changing. All the alignments of the heart are determined based on the needs of the cells, specifically tissues and organs. The heart knows if it needs to speed up.’ In Slip, to slip, in a heartbeat, is to descend not into the grid of the even metre accorded to the heartbeat, but into a play of mutability and modality. To change is the condition of the heart.

Acclaimed electronic musicians, producers and sound architects Max Cooper and Rob Clouth team up for a new collaborative EP; a dark, playful four-track dive into ambient, breakbeat and techno’s subconscious flow, featuring a standout vocal performance from South London rapper FLOHIO.

Recorded over a series of spontaneous London sessions, “8 Billion Realities” channels years of creative exchange between two of the genre’s most quietly innovative artists and is a result of a decision between the longtime friends to refrain from conceptual overthinking in favour of instinct and joy.

As long-time admirers of each other’s audio/visual work, Cooper and Clouth collaborated in London together after both emerging from intense, idea-heavy album cycles. What followed was a series of exploratory sessions, half-improvised, half-built around half-formed thoughts.

The result is a club-ready EP that feels alive and human: imperfect and hypnotically rich.

“Rob Clouth has been one of my favourite electronic music producers since I first heard his work in 2011,” says Cooper. “His work is more full of ideas and structure than anyone else.” “We were both coming from extensive conceptual studio albums and both in the mood for simplifying things and having some fun with the music, so that’s what we did”.

For Clouth, no stranger to Max Coopers Mesh label having previously released an array of EP’s plus his 2020 debut album “Zero Point” this record marks a new chapter, both creatively and personally.“Something pretty new for me is collaborating,” he says. “You kind of have to when to stop, because if you develop an idea all the way to its endpoint, the other person has nowhere to jump in.”

The first “A Moment Set Aside” began as a break from another idea, a live, unplanned improvisation based around arps and ambience. “The track was written in about as long as it took to play it,” says Cooper. “It was pulled from a 1 hour recording session, more or less as you hear it… the energy and excitement grew as the unplanned moment bore some magic.”

“The lesson being that sometimes it’s helpful to set aside a moment without forcing results, and let the subconscious have something to say.” What followed was darker, heavier. “Asymptote” is detuned techno. Subversive and euphoric in its descent. “We found a sort of brain mangling, half consonant, half wandering detuned techno pulse, which we started chatting about being a sort of pit of spiralling body parts we were falling into,” says Cooper. “It was a lot of fun to work on and let loose with bigger kicks than I usually ever get to unleash.”

Then came “8 Billion Realities”, featuring a standout rap performance from FLOHIO; an emerging figure in the UK grime and rap scene. The track was inspired by conversations about algorithmic echo chambers and hyper-personalised online worlds. Frantic, direct, and South London to the core, FLOHIO brings this tension to life. Her sharp, intense flow cuts through distortion and rhythm, landing the track somewhere between chaos and control instantly making it one of the most striking moments in either artist’s catalogue. “A different reality for all 8 billion of us,” says Cooper. “We weren’t sure if it would work… but there was something about the energy of the percussive idea and the story which felt like it might fit.” “Then FLOHIO had a play with it and straight off the bat absolutely killed it, not just with the lyrics and energy, but the harmonising too, it was a beautiful process.”

The final piece on the EP “Candeleda” originated from Clouth’s solo experiments with a live rig made entirely of vocals and keys, using his self-developed “cheatbox” system. “He put forward a beautiful stumbling melodic sequence which we bounced back and forth adding harmonies and synth layers,” says Cooper. “It rounds off a collection covering some of the breadth of music that we both love.”

Pickle Darling has always existed just outside of the periphery. In a heightened time of fast music, algorithmic consumption and rapid virality, Lukas Mayo (they/them) has remained focused on the album. Their discography is a reflection of their creative evolution, and they deliberately look for ways to push sonic boundaries from release to release. Since debuting with Bigness in 2019 followed by Cosmonaut in 2021, Mayo has curated a catalog that is deeply personal and strangely tactile, where tiny, unexpected details_an off-kilter loop, a whispered aside, the warmth of an old Casio_become as crucial as melody itself. Their 2023 LP Laundromat was a precise and polished expansion of that world, a record that felt like it had been carefully placed behind glass. Their forthcoming fourth album, Battlebots, by contrast, is unruly and full of static: a collection of songs that feel like they could only ever exist on scratched CD-Rs passed between friends. Self-recorded in their home studio in Christchurch, New Zealand, it finds Mayo taking a scalpel to their own songwriting. Songs were stretched, chopped, reversed. Some ideas started as "unlistenable garbage" before morphing into something unexpectedly beautiful. If a song felt too straightforward, Mayo had to mess it up. That friction of old and new, organic and digital, melody and noise is what drives Battlebots. Drawing inspiration from a strange, scattered lineage: Four Tet's Rounds, The Books, Neneh Cherry's Broken Politics, The Wrens' Three types of reading ambiguity, but also the emotional directness of 2000s pop like Madonna's Ray of Light and Robyn's Body Talk, the result is an album that feels like a glitch in the system, pushing against past constraints while embracing the weird, beautiful mess of making something new.

Ma Haiping's "Mind Reader," on SCAN Records, the new label from Detroit legend SCAN 7, is an EP that extends his Detroit Futurism aesthetic, reimagining techno as a vehicle for paranoia and prophecy in the algorithmic age. It's a tense, synth-driven meditation on surveillance and synthetic reality. "Mind Reader" suggests our devices aren't just watching—they're thinking. The standout, "Sensitive Period" (with Shanghai Ultra), pulses with restraint, while "No Exposed" explores icy isolation. Classic 808s and funky basslines nod to Drexciya, but Ma's voice is unmistakable: cerebral, tactile, and deeply attuned to the present moment's fractured frequencies.

Though they may not have intended to do so, Naptown's trinity, also known as 81355 (pronounced BLESS), rang out as revolutionaries with their 2021 debut record This Time I'll be of Use. When Oreo Jones, Sirius Blvck, and Sedcairn come together, genre evaporates into enthralling poeticism and sonic hypnosis. Their sophomore LP Bad Dogs, releasing July 11th on Joyful Noise Recordings, acts as an expansive continuation of 81355's signature sound: an angelic, gritty, enthralling urban hymnal for the disillusioned mind. The history of 81355 stretches far back into the history of Naptown's creative scene. Jones and Blvck struck a match as one of Indy's most influential hip-hop collectives, Ghost Gun Summer, before they brought on Sedcairn (Moose Adamson) in 2020. Before Adamson infused 81355 with his melodic soundscapes, he produced Grampall Jookabox, an underground indie meets jangle pop project. Though they may be known primarily for their musical notoriety, the members of 81355 are steadfast in their commitment to uplifting their community with collective creative expansion. Sean (Oreo Jones), alongside his partner Jane Sun Kim, produces and curates Chreece, the largest Midwestern Hip-Hop festival hosted in the heart of Naptown. Niq (Sirius Blvck) is pivotal in the empowerment and advancement of Indy Hunger Network, a local non profit that addresses food insecurity across Indianapolis. Moose (Sedcairn) is a key contributor to Joyful Noise, an Indy based independent label cutting records for artists of all genres. For the first time, the project's live band is part of the production, with Sharlene Birdsong on bass guitar, Dimitri Morris on guitar, and Pat Okerson on drums. The Bad Dogs listening experience also seeps into visual realms: a short film titled Sleep Study will be released in tandem. Sleep Study_soundtracked, written, and produced by 81355, who also star in the film alongside friends and fellow artists from the community_features afrofuturistic sci-fi undertones that explore the toxifying implications of algorithmic control, postmodern brain rot, and late-stage capitalism. As the texturally emotive punctum of its cover art (painted by Stockholm based artist Julia de Ruvo) conveys, the heart of Bad Dogs draws its perseverance from the wild reservation dogs pulsing through the rust-hued indigenous lands of New Mexico and beyond. They are untethered in their roaming, sacred in their fierce communal belonging, yet undefined by a physical place. A vital essence mirrored by 81355: boundaryless, primal creative cultivation that defies what some may attempt to categorize as hip hop or progressive rap.

3XL’s first new release in 2025 by Italian trio Cortex of Light is a synapse-tickling dose of classic FSOL-era world-building that takes in gloopy trance cooked down with sub-heavy, vaporous dub, mutant acid, breakbeat rave, Artificial Intelligence and a Mark Fell-style algorithmic brainmelt.

You'll know if you've spent any time following Piezo's output that the Milan-based producer and Ansia boss has a knack for lysergically enhancing any club template he sets his sights on. With releases on Idle Hands, Wisdom Teeth, Loefah's 81 and most recently Dekmantel, Luca Mucci has blottered up dubstep, hard drum, 2-step and minimal techno, here re-convening with fellow Milanese journeymen Aitch and primordial OOze/xàr num as Cortex of Light to blur those edges even further

'ILLUMINOTECNICA' isn't the trio's first release, but it's their most substantial and easily most developed. If 2024's 'Aeon Is A Child At Play With Colored Balls' showed off their aptitude for threading their luminous soundscapes into a horizontal soundtrack, then this album is a proper chance for Cortex of Light to show off their versatility in a different setting, matching dancefloor hallucinations with expertly sculpted sound design.

Psilocybin-tainted soundscapes scrape into breathy flute sounds and chest-thumping bass drops on the opener, haunted by a vision of electronic music that's been contrived in back rooms, squats and outdoor raves for decades at this point. Like so much of the rest of the 3XL catalog, there's a drive and coherence here that comes from classic dub techno and chill-out room fodder (think The Black Dog or Pentatonik), but always infused with something that dates it to the present era, be it a tactile sliver of Visible Cloaks-style neo-new age ambience, or a sort of mescaline-dipped take on Photek's bass-heavy, meticulously hazed 'Solaris' period downtempo gear, chopped 'n screwed into the uncanny.

Drag City and Yoga Records are delighted to return to the music of Matthew Young. Following Recurring Dreams (1981, reissued 2014) and Traveler"s Advisory (1986, reissued 2010), Undercurrents (2025) collects eight oddly dissimilar pieces that somehow fit together perfectly. Ranging from heady synthesizer experiments to earthy dulcimer meditations, Undercurrents is unique enough to be called outsider while still occupying a musical world accessible to fans of many genres. Composed and recorded over the span of several decades, Undercurrents displays the wide range of Young"s various sonic pallets: similar to Recurring Dreams, the electronic landscapes meander coherently, and much like Traveler"s Advisory, the album skews from the nearly algorithmic computer music of side one to the moving pastoral folk of the second.