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Harap-Alb is the first full-length album by Articulat, following a trilogy of EPs (two released on vinyl) and previous appearances on Rotterdam’s Afrobotic Musicology label. This new project deepens Articulat’s commitment to narrative-rich electronic music — blending structure, rhythm, and texture to evoke both dancefloor tension and cinematic storytelling.

“This album began as a personal exploration—an attempt to deconstruct a story that has been familiar to me since childhood and reimagine it through sound. I first encountered Harap Alb as a crackling, timeworn radio play on vinyl, and its atmosphere has lingered with me ever since. This is my way of keeping that story alive—not by preserving it in amber but by passing it forward in a different form, hoping it resonates in a new way.”

Perhaps, years from now, someone will discover this record the same way I found the original. And in doing so, they too will add their own craft and love to the tale.

Based on the 1964 radio play adaptation by Vasile Mănuceanu
Original story: Povestea lui Harap Alb, written by Ion Creangă in 1877

Inspired from Romanian cultural heritage, be it film, dance or musical instruments, Folclor Abstract is a glance back to the roots in search of a meaningful future.

The first track is inspired from the soundtrack composed by Cornelia Tăutu for the Romanian historical adventure film “Buzduganul cu trei peceți” (1977). The film presents a politicized version of the events that led in 1600 to the unification of the three Romanian countries, in the aftermath of a victorious battle against the Ottoman invasion (Călugăreni, 1595). Dance your way through as the story unfolds.

Dans cu balans is the result of a personal fascination for the cimbalom, an instrument of high versatility, frequently used in the Romanian fiddle music. In contrast to orchestral performances, which adhere to the composer’s notes to reproduce a work faithfully, fiddling is also open to improvisation and tends to produce rhythms that focus on dancing, with associated quick note changes.

Searching for inspiration within Romanian folklore, I found Ivan Braga who was on his own pursuit of cultural heritage, experimenting with a variety of traditional instruments and rhythms from different regions of the country. Doba lu’ Braga is Ivan’s modern take on Romanian drum patterns performed on a traditional Moldavian drum (dobă) with an uplifting twist and arrangement for the dancefloor experience.

Reverie is an expression of the creator’s state of mind. Lost in thought, stolen by imagination, haunted by memories, liberated by dreams

Articulat is the (new) artist name of Ovidiu Stanciu, a Romanian dj/producer living in Rotterdam. Under the moniker Manikin, he worked on several concept albums with titles like Popular Mechanics, Taxim and Grandma's Attic Revival over the last couple of years. While selecting tracks for this debut EP it felt like curating a 'best of', and we chose to put three thriving and pounding slow-beat bangers on the A side, and to show more of Articulat's versatile style on the B-side. Expect experimental electronic songs inspired by themes like Steampunk and Romanian folklore, very precisely engineered to experience storytelling in the most physical way.

MP06 introduces DHAEUR to the Moving Pressure catalogue. The Berlin-based producer carves his sonic worlds through a strong sense of rhythmic architecture and a deep understanding of dancefloor dynamics. Here, he channels club-driven sensibilities into a mature and conscious 4 tracker.

The concept behind the EP reflects the principles of the label - namely, the pressure of sound and its resulting movement. Minimalism meets maximum technical intention, where swollen basslines and tightly coiled rhythmic progressions open up in signature DHAEUR style. The groove carries a distinct elasticity, punctuated by vocal inserts that add a subtly funky, almost soulful essence to the flow. Every element sits with purpose: dynamic yet
stripped back, intricately offset in ways that keep the body locked and the mind wondering. While the A-side leans into this physical immediacy - driving, playful, and sharply articulated - the B-side slips further into the tunnel. Atmospheres thicken and the palette turns eerier, stretching its essential rhythmic backbone into darker territories. Spatial details begin to seep through the structures, pulling the listener deeper while maintaining that firm gravitational pull toward the dancefloor.

Together, the two sides reveal different shades of DHAEUR's language. The result is a beautifully balanced narration between propulsion and immersion, where groove-led functionality meets a more shadowy, atmospheric depth.

• “Guerrilla Girls!”, Ace Records’ much-anticipated first release of 2023, takes us on a thrilling ride from punk’s mid-70s origins, via the left-field post-punk groups, jangly female combos, grunge bands and vigilante Riot Grrrls of the 80s and 90s, to the she-punk bands of recent years – a five-decade alternative to the macho hegemony of rock.

• The collection highlights songs that emerged out of a dynamic underculture of female creative expression. What unites the featured artists is a healthy disregard for the way the music industry ties up its female performers into pretty, neo-liberal packages. From Patti Smith, universal mother of the punk movement, to the Bags, Bikini Kill and Skinny Girl Diet, this music is anti-A&R. Including lesser-known names such as San Francisco street punk Mary Monday and London-based experimentalists pragVec, it shows that, rather than being a few novelty bands existing on the margins, these performers represent a stronger, more three-dimensional version of the female experience.

• Glorious resistance was on display in the first wave of UK female-fronted punk bands. Poly Styrene’s charged vocals on X-Ray Spex’s ‘Iama Poseur’, for instance, were a deliberate refusal to be a pretty punkette. With 15 year-old Lora Logic on saxophone, X-Ray Spex epitomised a fearless, self-defined agency that was at odds with the pastel shades and flowery, submissive Laura Ashley version of 1970s girlhood. By the early 80s, there was a hugely vibrant scene propelled by the diverse rhythms and voices of post-punk feminism. Lora Logic had left X-Ray Spex to form the interweaving textures of Essential Logic, the Mo-dettes mangled ska and off-kilter pop, and Birmingham band Au Pairs sliced political rigour into their lyrics and funky guitar work.

• Some female artists took that elemental energy into pop, creating pop-punk with a twist. We’ve Got A Fuzzbox And We’re Gonna Use It!! made a statement on music technology and female power with a cheeky play on words. Their song ‘Rules And Regulations’ shows that what Guerrilla Girls do well is debunking – taking genres of popular song and turning them inside out – like the way the Pandoras and the Pussywillows would amp up the driving beat and high vocals of the 60s girl group style, and subvert it with a DIY garage element.

• In its fanzine culture, use of montage and DIY music, 90s Riot Grrrl bands such as Bikini Kill and Bratmobile drew direct inspiration from 70s punk, articulated through the prism of Third Wave feminism. Too often, Riot Grrrl gigs were invaded by men intent on heckling “the enemy”. Liz Naylor, manager of British Riot Grrrl band Huggy Bear, says that their concerts became war zones. From the US grunge and Riot Grrrl scenes emerged more female instrumentalists, with bands such as L7 and Babes In Toyland proving that it was possible to recruit cutting-edge drummers, bass players and guitarists. Lori Barbero, whose relentless power drumming is a major element of Babes In Toyland, took the one instrument that has been a staple of male rock’n’roll and made it her muse.

• In the 2000s a new generation of girl-punk bands drew on the Riot Grrrl underculture to form their own sound. London trio the Tuts refashioned C86, Riot Grrrl and lush dream pop on songs like the ironically titled ‘Let Go Of The Past’, while the Regrettes injected shots of ska and doo wop into their explosive West Coast pop-punk. What began with Patti Smith and 70s punk has grown into a vast, spikey infrastructure of girl music. Many take inspiration from their foremothers, like Skinny Girl Diet whose vigilante feminism and punk distortion has been championed in return by Viv Albertine of the Slits. As long as these female artists stay aware of their musical vision and what they are trying to express – in a sense, A&R themselves – the underculture will continue to grow and flower. And this “Guerrilla Girls!” compilation is a celebration of that power.


• The back sleeve of the release features a scene-setting introductory essay by Lucy O’Brien (author of She Bop: The Definitive History Of Women In Popular Music). Each of the two discs come in a swanky inner bag containing a track commentary by compiler Mick Patrick (Ace Records’ long-serving champion of female artists of all persuasions) and exclusive interviews with many of the featured artists by Vim Renault and Lene Cortina (founders of the Punk Girl Diaries webzine).

Tucked in the heart of Koreatown, Los Angeles, lies The Libra Hotel—the titular architecture of Nick Malkin's new album and site of his musical and psychogeographic exploration. Unlike most musical "site-specific" studies, Malkin remains wholly ambivalent to the documentarian approach, instead sharpening an auteur-like focus on the site as a conceptual and highly expressive backdrop. The Libra is musically explored as a space that houses a noir fragmentation of identity—the exhausted trope of a complicated protagonist walking through rain-soaked street corners and fumy neon lights—where an inner monologue is rendered in both miniature and at a cosmic scale. Casting aside stifling tropes around field recording, ambient, and improvised music, Malkin's work finds its own unique fidelity and emotional core through the assembly and reassembly of memory. Nearly every sound on the album—from frayed saxophones, lambent pianos, and dissected jazz drum kits—are multiplied, shattered, and reconstituted into shapes that adorn The Libra in a motion-blurred fog. The narrative of the Hotel suddenly appears as if out of the mist, with intersecting characters interacting within its walls by happenstance. Adminst the languid set pieces, wraith-like sonic grains gravitate around wide subbass beams that give structural form to The Libra, a narrative tension like when a scene is shot from hundreds of different perspectives: an image both luminous and veiled.

Much like Frank Sinatra's own spatial residency immortalized on "Live at The Sands," "At The Libra Hotel" showcases an exuberant view of entertainment, hospitality, and a form of masculinity, one that can quickly detourn into darkness. Knowing this, Malkin extracts a melancholic core out of The Libra locale. The flickering shadows of American decadence are shown in their ephemeral honesty, lines that trace how even in everyday life virtue is tested, sanity is tested, even reality is tested within the confines of desire, within the night. The album is draped in fleeting textures, carefully arranged with a trance-like microtonality, the faint inflections and articulations of a jazz band cascading into dissipated stillness. Voicemails about changed locations and covert eavesdropping on guests' whispered conversations provide an atmosphere of missed connection and voyeurism—a purloined letter of desire receding into a vanishing point. Like the music itself, The Hotel, a chapel perilous at the intersection of desolation row, the center of it all, yet simultaneously at the edge of town, becomes a structure between libidinous virtuality and actuality—our inevitable half-light.

Ultimately, the pensive atmosphere of "At The Libra Hotel," powerfully asserts a plea for the kinds of intimacy only possible in transient spaces. Here, memory cascades into a force that feels like something supernatural, perhaps even religious, yet always subject to the infidelity of our imagination. Here, the album opens into its primary psychodrama, the transient nature of subjectivity itself and how this becomes fractured in the tumult between our commitments and desires. Within this nocturnal space, to quote Louise Bourgeois, "you pile up associations the way you pile up bricks. Memory itself is a form of architecture."

Sometimes the title of an album tells you everything you need to know. Laurence Pike’s Possible Utopias for Jazz Quintet is like that: The music within represents a search for freedom, potentiality—liberatory strategies that transcend the ego and the solitary, atomized figure.

But in this case, the album title is also a red herring, because there is no jazz quintet here—just Pike, his drums, and his machines, not so much an ersatz ensemble as a purely notional one, a thought experiment equipped with drumsticks, circuitry, and the desire to go beyond hardwired limits.

And the results, strictly speaking, aren’t really jazz, though they incorporate the vocabulary of jazz, along with that of ambient, electronica, and post-rock. They are some other thing, cognizant of genre but never beholden to it. Again, we’re talking about a search for freedom here.

The Sydney-based musician has a long history of coloring outside the lines, not just in his solo recordings—including four albums for the Leaf label between 2018 and 2024—but also in the trio Pivot (later PVT); Szun Waves (alongside saxophonist Jack Wyllie and Border Community’s Luke Abbott); Triosk, which recorded an album with Jan Jelinek in 2003; and even post-punk titans Liars, whom he joined in late 2018.

Of his first album for Balmat, Pike says, “My loose concept was: What does music sound like when the expectations of late capitalism are removed from it? How might a jazz musician from an idealised culture of the future, or even another world, utilise musical language when the conventions of style and marketing are no longer a factor in music making?”

That inquiry, he says, connects to his “guiding principle: that the purpose of music is to access something bigger than the individual, and reveal a sense of possibility and freedom in the world to the listener. To create an understanding that the future can be something other than what we imagined or expect, even unconsciously.”

Heady ideas, but plug into his stream-of-metaconsciousness flow and you may start to intuit what motivates him. There is a deeply lyrical expression in these pieces—in the ruminative piano of opener “Guardians of Memory,” for example—but also a sense of exploded perspective, of ideas approached from more angles than any one mind could dream up. Of a collectivized consciousness, of mycelial networks branching across tone and rhythm and timbre, of ideas articulated in distributed fashion, nodal points dancing across drum heads.

Pike’s imaginary quintet is hardly without precedent; it’s a continuation of concepts floated across Jan Jelinek’s Loop-Finding-Jazz-Records, Burnt Friedman’s many guises, and much of the recombinant improv of the International Anthem roster, not to mention the far corners of ECM’s catalog in the late 1970s and 1980s, which Pike says have been integral to his development since he was a teenager. Possible Utopias for Jazz Quintet is a point in a continuum, a voice in a conversation, a question with no obvious answer: How can the search for otherness in music manifest something true about ourselves?

Josh Mason’s new collection, "Wave Salt +7," emerges from an oblique origin. Unearthed from a dormant hard drive, it documents a set of work sessions only partially recoverable, their original continuity and intent fractured by time and technical failure. What remains is a constellation of mercurial gestures that proves, against all odds, to be entirely consonant with Mason’s ongoing musical concerns.

In a sense, the very condition of partiality proves generative, with elision operating on multiple levels - structural, sonic, and archival - shaping both the music itself and the circumstances of its (re)appearance. Phrases surface only to be truncated or displaced, hovering at the edge of resolution, and transitions are implied rather than fully enacted. Absence functions not as a deficit, but as an important compositional resource.

Central to the album’s sound is a distinctive use of vocoding. Deployed not to simulate vocal presence but as a tool for tonal sculpting, it yields a shifting lattice of smeared harmonics, angular melody, and attenuated noise. Sounds are pressed through one another, their edges softened, shifted, or selectively erased, producing surfaces simultaneously articulated and porous. Rather than reconstructing a lost whole, the album posits a mode of listening attuned to gaps, interruptions, and unstable forms. Even so, in keeping with Mason’s broader practice, this music remains grounded in melodic logic and a distinctly human scale, ensuring that its fragmentary structures register not solely as experiments, but as expressions of proximity and feeling.

Available as 2LP & as a Bundle 2LP+Book (English, Portuguese & French).

Featuring DJ Anderson do Paraiso, DJ Sandrinho, Jonas Albrecht, Xexa, Felinto, Gabi Guedes & Sávio de Queiroz, Vincent Taeger, Kimia.



Upon their arrival in Brazil after the traumatic Atlantic crossing, enslaved populations from West Africa sought to reconstruct their sacred cultural and spiritual systems within a profoundly hostile environment. Five centuries later, the vitality of terreiros (ritual grounds) across the country bears witness to a living and adaptive religion that continues to evolve while remaining deeply rooted in ancestral traditions. Today, Candomblé is celebrated throughout Brazil and increasingly recognised internationally, far beyond Afro-descendant communities.


The project “Candomblé: Sacred Rhythms in Brazil”, articulated around the publication of a book and a double LP combining original sound archives with newly commissioned compositions, seeks to honour this tradition by documenting its historical foundations while offering a critical and artistic reflection on its contemporary transformations and future trajectories.

Featuring DJ Anderson do Paraiso, DJ Sandrinho, Jonas Albrecht, Xexa, Felinto, Gabi Guedes & Sávio de Queiroz, Vincent Taeger, Kimia.



Upon their arrival in Brazil after the traumatic Atlantic crossing, enslaved populations from West Africa sought to reconstruct their sacred cultural and spiritual systems within a profoundly hostile environment. Five centuries later, the vitality of terreiros (ritual grounds) across the country bears witness to a living and adaptive religion that continues to evolve while remaining deeply rooted in ancestral traditions. Today, Candomblé is celebrated throughout Brazil and increasingly recognised internationally, far beyond Afro-descendant communities.


The project “Candomblé: Sacred Rhythms in Brazil”, articulated around the publication of a book and a double LP combining original sound archives with newly commissioned compositions, seeks to honour this tradition by documenting its historical foundations while offering a critical and artistic reflection on its contemporary transformations and future trajectories.

There are records that do not so much belong to an era as they pass through it, leaving traces rather than statements, circulating in the margins where function outweighs discourse. World Cup, written at the end of the 1990s by Kiko, emerged in precisely that way — as a techno track whose presence was felt less through promotion than through repetition, carried from booth to booth, absorbed into the working vocabulary of DJs who recognized in it something immediate and self-evident. Its architecture is minimal yet insistent, driven by tension and release, a form of clarity that resists ornament and instead privileges duration, pressure, and movement.

When it resurfaced in 2006, it did not return as a revision but as a continuation, reaffirming its role within the ecology of the dancefloor. The same internal logic remained intact, allowing it to re-enter circulation without friction, as though it had simply been waiting to be picked up again. In both instances, the track operates less as a fixed object than as a tool — something to be used, extended, and recontextualized in real time.

Bringing together these two versions alongside Tainted Life, the release traces a subtle but telling trajectory. If World Cupdefines a certain techno functionalism, Tainted Life reveals another dimension: a proto-Italo sensibility that gestures toward what would later coalesce as electroclash, not through stylistic declaration but through texture, tone, and attitude. Long absent from digital circulation and largely confined to obscurity, it appears here not as a rediscovery, but as a piece whose relevance has simply remained latent.

Nothing has been added, nothing has been altered beyond what was necessary to restore presence. The recordings are allowed to exist in their own continuity, detached from the temporal markers that might otherwise confine them.

The artwork, conceived by H5, extends this approach into the visual field. Its restraint is not aesthetic minimalism for its own sake, but a form of structural clarity, where composition and absence articulate a space in which the record can be encountered without interference, as if resurfacing from a parallel timeline that never fully closed.

After the acclaimed Bar Mediterraneo, Massimo Di Lena and Lucio Aquilina return with a new album that broadens the scope of their sound even further, sailing beyond the Pillars of Hercules into a constellation of gravity-defying creative freedom.

People Of The Moon is not an imagined cosmic species, but a dimension within us all. Deeply personal yet universally shared. An alternative way of thinking that lays dormant until we find the courage to untether it, helping us experience life more fully. It is that precious sphere of the soul that slips away from everyday life. A form of self-expression free from the social pressures that weigh on each, at every latitude on the planet.

Under the moonlight, these songs trace anxieties and aspirations, guided by the international language of groove and rhythmic motion, articulated in Neapolitan, Arabic, English, Spanish, and Portuguese. It speaks with equal clarity through the Afro-Cuban influences of Celavì (“That’s Life”), with its circular rhythmic energy, and through the Anatolian zurna of Ma Tu Che Bbuò (“What Do You Want?” in Neapolitan), moving from highlife guitars to the mandolins that have become a Nu Genea signature. New idioms and rhythms, filtered through an Italian perspective.

The first single Sciallà (“Go Away” in Neapolitan), released in the summer of 2025, already hinted at what was taking shape in the Nu Genea workshop - a radiant guide to embracing difficulty and finding relief in dance. Not so much an escape, but a form of catharsis. Looking up at the giant mirror ball orbiting above us, we catch a glimpse of our best selves reflected back, and appreciate that the People Of The Moon invoked in the title track are more familiar than we first realised.

There’s a kind of resilience in these voices that isn’t loud or triumphant, but persistent and rooted in the simple act of continuing. The imagery of high-speed motion is central to Onenon (“On and On”), where British singer and multi-instrumentalist Tom Misch helps conjure a Mediterranean brit-funk reminiscent of Pino D’Angiò’s basslines.

The voice in Acelera (“Speed Up” in Spanish) summons the strength to chase the moon as if it were an unattainable ideal, in this Andalusian-tinged track featuring María José Llergo, who also lends her voice to Celavì. Both tracks are among the more languorous arrangements, with flamenco palmas introducing an original fusion into the Nu Genea groove.
With its driving momentum, Puleza (“Clean Up” in Neapolitan) recalls the spirit of Nuova Napoli, albeit with vintage synth textures and wild, unrestrained delays. The track’s protagonist, performed by Fabiana Martone, is another of our lunar dwellers.

Yet even when it leans into forward motion, People Of The Moon doesn’t pulse at a frantic pace, moving instead through shifting states of speed, orbit, and suspension. In fact, the Levantine bossa nova Shway Shway (“Slowly, Slowly” in Arabic), sung by Celinatique, captures the orbital motion of the entire record. Not exactly slow, but measured. Rich in color, and marked by a rhythmic complexity that was also heard on the duo’s rare access to foundational afrobeat on The Tony Allen Experiments.
All the while, the album remains deeply attuned to melody - a Nu Genea hallmark - as heard in the effervescent hook of Carè (“Falling” in Neapolitan). In the lunar microgravity of these ten tracks, falling and flying become interchangeable with dancing as ways of following the beat, suspended yet compelled to move. That compulsion is also invoked by Brazilian percussionist Gabriel Prado, making his vocal debut on Ondas Do Mar (“Waves Of The Sea” in Portuguese). The pull of the waves, a constant interplay of motion and return, steady as a lunar phase, is impossible to resist. One might as well lean into the blue, not to dissolve but to rebuild. “Você vai ver que dentro de nós / vai rolar”: you’ll see that something will happen within us.

Childhood Intelligence’s 18th release by ADSR aka. Todd Nickolas & Dominic Paterson from Toronto, Canada. The 2x12” album presents mostly tracks written and produced by Todd, with A1/D1 being in collaboration with Paterson. "Give a teenager in a rural Canadian setting an analog synthesizer, a drum machine and a four-track cassette recorder and feed him a steady diet of 80s EBM, Post-Punk, Synthpop, Electro, Dub, Acid, Hip Hop and House, and you’ll get the kind of genre melding electronic-based music that Todd Nickolas has been known for since his early days of writing and producing." The end result is a versatile one, with “Passive Articulation” presenting abstract Techno - House - Electro visions, and fusing all the elements of vintage Intelligent Dance Music that we cherish so much: warm basslines, beautiful chord progressions, diverse and surprising arrangements infused with haunting melodies, hypnotic cyber sounds, detached vocal cuts and dubbed percussion.…Overall fresh & timeless classiness for the present, past & future.

Recorded various locations New Hamburg, Kitchener-Waterloo, Ottawa, Toronto, San Francisco and Los Angeles. ADSR greatly thanks those who were there from the start, those who joined along the journey and those here now.

Drummer-composer Tom Skinner announces Kaleidoscopic Visions, his second solo album, out 26th September 2025 via Brownswood Recordings and International Anthem

Kaleidoscopic Visions unfolds across two distinct sonic landscapes. Side A presents entirely instrumental compositions performed by Skinner's live Bishara band—bassist Tom Herbert, cellist Kareem Dayes, and Robert Stillman and Chelsea Carmichael on various woodwinds and reeds—with electric guitar on two tracks courtesy of Portishead's Adrian Utley. A drummer-composer bringing his wealth of experience to bear on the role of bandleader, Skinner composed primarily on guitar, embracing the freedom that came with writing on his secondary instrument.
These compositions include "Auster," dedicated to late novelist Paul Auster, and "Margaret Anne," which honours Skinner's mother Anne Shasby, a former classical concert pianist prodigy who abandoned her own promising career in the face of systemic misogyny, only to impart on her son what Skinner calls "the gift of music."

Skinner’s musical world opens further on Side B, where a collection of poised vocal collaborations stretch out from jazz and improvisation towards a more dream-like, soulful sound. The centerpiece is "The Maxim," a ten-minute collaboration with Grammy Award-winning Meshell Ndegeocello, a dubby, spacious meditation on life and death, delivered with a free-spirited grace. For Skinner, working with Ndegeocello—whom he first saw at Glastonbury as a teenager in 1994—represents a full-circle moment, indicative of the indirect paths and inspirational detours that have shaped his life.
The album goes on to feature South Carolina-based singer Contour (Khari Lucas) who appears on the low-lit soul ballad ‘Logue’, and closes with ‘See How They Run’, featuring London keyboardist-vocalist Yaffra (Jonathan Geyevu). It is the album’s most overtly lyrical track, an articulate exposition of jazz-inflected spoken word that speaks not only to the genre-fluid nature of the music but the breadth of Skinner’s palette.
This should come as no surprise. On Kaleidoscopic Visions, one of London’s most vital musical figures gives us a sparkling glimpse of the multi-coloured lens through which his unique sound is now refracting.

Don’t Trust The Snippets – Play The Full Track Before Buying A Record is a finely tuned four-track compilation from NOREPRESS Records, exploring a broad emotional and rhythmic spectrum — from atmospheric breaks to dub-infused tech house. Each piece invites deep listening, rewarding full attention rather than surface impressions.

A1. Osman Oz & SUBLIMINAL. – Johto opens with a beautifully crafted breaks track — rich in ambient layers and cinematic depth, setting a contemplative tone. A2. Pat Jensenn – Heaven Tapes follows with crisp percussion and hypnotic melodies, shifting the mood into uplifting, forward-driving territory. The young Argentinian producer blends instinct and elegance in equal measure.

On the flip, B1. Genning & Kirill Matveev – Orbiter lifts off with bounce and finesse — tight, articulate, and designed for that moment when the dancefloor begins to bloom. B2. Neptuna, also by Genning & Matveev, closes the record with sensual dub textures and refined detail — balancing movement and stillness in perfect harmony.

Led by visionary Kirill Matveev, with strong contributions from Genning, Pat Jensenn, and the always-excellent Osman Oz & SUBLIMINAL, NRP005 serves as a reminder: the full track always tells the real story.

NOREPRESS is a division of MixCult Records

Natasha Pirard returns with her most personal project yet, dedicated to her mother and late grandmother, whose care shaped her life. Fernande, Cecile is a photobook of songs, weaving voice, field recordings, synthesizer, and violin into an ode to her matrilineal line. Pirard lost her grandmother at seven, yet Fernande’s warmth stayed with her as a touchstone. Her mother, Cecile, has been a constant presence, guiding her through difficult years.

Alzheimer’s—her grandmother’s illness—and the fragility of memory permeate the work. A conversation with her mother sparked the album: over coffee, Cecile placed a hand on her heart and said, “If I ever develop this disease, don’t forget I’m still here (inside).” That moment became central to the compositions, which translate Pirard’s gratitude and love into music as tender as possible.

The music moves in fragments—notes, chords, loops—evoking gardens, sunlight, and childhood afternoons. Rhythms shift like life itself, carrying echoes of loss and the persistence of memory. Ambient textures brush against her voice and instruments, sometimes punctuated by her grandmother’s favorite bird.

The album unfolds in two parts: Fernande, capturing her grandmother’s warmth and fading recollections, and Cecile, honoring her mother’s care and resilience. Track titles trace memories while the music drifts through longing and gratitude, articulating what words cannot.

The album was written and recorded by Natasha Pirard, produced and mixed by David & Stephen Dewaele of Soulwax/2manydjs at DEEWEE.

Revolution 1988 EP is an innovative interpretation of early House and Acid House vibes. Clocking in at 125 Bpm on the A side, it sets the mood for the sonic exploration of naturally expressed, impactful and upbeat classic house piano riffs and a tight rhythm section, contaminated with a punchy bassline and rich percussive elements. To complete the journey, it’s also worth mentioning the effortless contribution of well worked out vocals and dubby kind of FXs that will lift the dancefloor to the very last beat.

The Red Pill can’t be labelled as a B side, in that it is a dancefloor filler of its own. Creating an 80s feel, it’s driven by funky, low rumbling bassline, and an articulated, snappy, sharp percussions, it infuses pure dancefloor energy with disco vibes and organic grooves. It encapsulates the listener/dancer in an immersive sonic bubble of exquisitely full range textures, emotional layers and sound stage experience. Again, meaningful vocals and piano grooves intermix with reggae/dub FXs and delays. Stick around for the finale and get ready for the unexpected ....

On point, until it hurts. With a decade-spanning discography, several bands and half of SHXCXCHCXSH this restless creator presents himself. SSTROM embodies the calmly bold. Building a version of the modern disco that nobody asked for. SSTROM is the capsule that shocks and comforts, gathers and spark a new thought. The robust shell acts as a camouflage for the wild and wicked bleakness of the music he produces. If the contemporary club urge could be described as a helmet waiting to brake this experience is what you are after; surprising, uplifting and changing. With 'Avvik' SSTROM carves out 6 somatically clear scenes articulating diverse textures, densities and states of aggregation. The constructions evolves as fractious rhythms strives for another order. Trial and errors bungys droughty, moist, stiff and tensile. Sstrom forces us to flicker in twitches between layers and dimensions beyond the given three.

Originally from Sicily but living in Basel, electronic composer Marco Papiro confirms his eccentric and multifaceted personality. The sound articulation of his analog synthesizers flows into in an artificial hyperrealism of great thematic and expressive variation. The tracks unfold between ascending cosmic moments, more ecstatic meditative tones, symphonic planetary floods, exotic afrodelic and psycho-andean drifts. Papiro synthesises and converts echoes of acoustic wind instruments (oboe, recorders, bamboo flute), while the percussion lives on its own pulsating reality. The influence of certain folk traditions, as well as contemporary music, also suggests the more acoustic flavor of an ethereal minimalism (for voice and psaltery), making his music a continuous open sea of visions. Cover painting by Anton Bruhin printed on two different colored papers. Co-released with Les Giants.

Multi-instrumentalist, visual artist, and scene creator, Jonathan Uliel Saldanha, has been releasing music under various guises for two decades. With the successes of his moniker HHY (Nyege Nyege Tapes) whether in symbiosis with The Kampala Unit or the syncopationophilic big band of The Macumbas, Jonathan Uliel Saldanha's sonic signature continues to grow more and more singular. Ever synthetic and digital, Uliel Saldanha's work-ethic never eases—having recently started a label of his own, Horror Vector.

Surface Disorder sees the release of the music from Jonathan Uliel Saldanha's large-scale exhibition of the same name that occurred in Porto & Lisbon, (2024-25). As with much of his work, there is a Ballardian sense of a near-future in dystopia. And since we're already living the apocalypse, there's never a hidden moral to veer away from the torment. Instead, Uliel Saldanha dives into it and catalyzes it further.

Information from Angels feels like a cunty John Dee AI (credited as The Mouth) becoming an oracle of information overload, accompanied by an instrumental bidirectionally that splits into a lush harmonic layer of blissful punctuated pads and another that is a speedy but subdued melodic bassline. The Mouth intones a 15-minute fever dream that flows through themes that have occupied Uliel Saldanha for quite some time.

On Swarming the Pit, the intricacy of Jonathan Uliel Saldanha sonic wizardry is on full display. A constantly moving swarm of granulated particulates of sonic material morph into a variety of textures: coins or gunshell casings hit the floor, engines rev their monstrosity, rubber-like pulses are splayed into spectral blurs and pops. This is clearly an update on music conrète's obsessions.

The Mouth on the closing track, Wolf & Virus Dialogues, has a completely different texture from the first, alerting the listener to the uncanny nature of its genesis. Here the instrumental sounds are all triggered by the articulations of the voice: a weird unison, it serves as its own artificial accompaniment. The reiteration of a self-model (a rabid 'my') creates a greater tension between computational self-certainty and the terror of its inevitable actualization.