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Ben is a Detroit-based producer who makes up half of Symptoms of Love, along with BPT records alum Ryan Spencer. He here brings us a 4 tracker of the absolute highest order. It both sounds like music that no one else is making, while also sounding like a pastiche of everything that you've ever liked in the past. The magic formula baby!!!!!!! Shall we walk thru the music together?

BPT founder and music's #1 man Jeremy Castillo has described the EP absolutely brilliantly as such: "YMO style dissonant electro with a Detroit touch on the a side, with pitched down Patrick Cowley psychedelic Macarena on the B-side.

The A1 and title track is an incredible statement of intent from Ben - it really does sound like if Hosono grew up in Detroit listening to Electrifying Mojo. It's an absolute blast of sunlight coming through your headphones. Press play and watch your vitamin D levels rise baby!!!

A2 cut "Music Remembers" is a groovy joy ride reminiscent of Galaxy II Galaxy, complete with re-pitched vocal chops and 808 claps galore. This will hit SO hard on a spring day if you live in a city currently blanketed in snow.

On the flip, B1 "Whose Water" will be a big hit with anyone who dug Dam Funk's Garret project. Introspective downtempo synth fans rejoice!!! And we wrap a stellar outing with B2's "New Sun" - a propulsive Cosmic workout that will open up any dancefloor. The psychedelic Macarena is right baby!!!

Some tracks are just too good to only feature on a compilation, even if it is a significant and celebratory set like Leng’s 15 Year anniversary album from late last year. That’s certainly the case with Payfone’s brilliantly atmospheric ‘Dime Algo’, a seductive slab of slow-motion Balearic disco featuring ‘I Feel You’ vocalist Kyd Nereida, along with Sofi Hardoy and Ludmila Rodriguez.

For this single release Black Science Orchestra, one of Britain’s most storied production collectives, deliver some truly exceptional remixes. Initially making their name with a series of sensational house jams on Junior Boy’s Own across the 1990s, BSO became renowned for the quality of their remixes as well as an ever-evolving trademark sound that put soul, organic instrumentation and references to dance music’s rich and varied past front and centre.

Comprised of Rob Mello, Ashley Beedle and Darren Morris, Black Science Orchestra work has been rare in recent years but here they deliver some magical takes on ‘Dime Algo’, blending Payfone’s original instrumentation with their own low-tempo magic. The Vocal Mix begins with sparse drums, Kraftwerkian bleeps and heavy sub-bass, building the action in waves with 303 lines, electro synths, warm chords and Nereida’s superb lead vocals combining to re-frame ‘Dime Algo’ as a deep, far-sighted slice of chugging 21st century acid-disco. The Dub Mix stretches things out with effects-laden instrumentation, acid lines and vocal snippets. Deeper and woozier, with more prominent use of the trio’s 303 trickery and Payfone’s superb original elements, it’s a heady, intoxicating and loved-up interpretation that subtly gains intensity throughout its seven-minute duration.

Audaciously innovative sound designer/producer/live artist Enrico Sangiuliano reaches #0 in his countdown from ‘NINETOZERO’ on his eponymous ephemeral imprint, triggering its built-in autodestruct by the release of provocative 3-track EP ‘Absence’, out March 19th on vinyl & digital. The digital EP will also feature an Edit of ‘Step Into The End’.

The Italian tech maestro and artistic pioneer eschews populism, yet still storms charts & wins hearts – notably/recently in his unsettling, compelling manifesto x battle cry ‘The Techno Code’. Says Enrico of his label, ‘NINETOZERO is a cycle of listening, making, and letting go. Born from silence, shaped by space, directed by reflection, altered by change, revealed by glitch, unified through interconnection, lifted toward transcendence, refined by discipline, clarified by chaos, and finally returned to absence.’

On his ‘Absence’ EP: ‘With ‘Absence’ we come full circle, back to the womb of nothingness but charged with the echo of everything we have experienced. It is an ending, yes, but also an invitation. A new kind of silence is born, shaped by the memory of every frequency we unleashed.’ Enrico Sangiuliano can thrill listeners with his music, but dares to challenge, to trust them.

Main track ‘Step Into The End’: a full-on barrage of trustworthy techno danceability & energy, bookended by soulful violin, high horns & sirens, with spoken incantations as if summoning to a sacred rite. A ten-minute timeless dance track as ‘all we’ve learned converges into a single point where presence & silence merge.’

Title track ‘Absence’: The (Techno Code-esque) Voice speaks of sound, space, absence, trace... the track’s background noise is the almost- silence of his studio ‘through a magnifying glass’.. His breathing can just be heard in the recording. Melodic, beautiful, free-form chords in the middle section act like a breakdown in reverse. ‘A provocation, a track of silence, incidental noise. A tale of a story that just finished, but also a background for a story to be shaped. No one is intentionally performing for us. Here, the responsibility and work of listening is on you, to figure out what you can hear and what to make of it, to craft your own soundtrack based on the sounds that surround you, beyond the track. You can perform your own version yourself. Close your eyes and just listen. Engage with your environment. Be present. Expand your senses. Enjoy absence.’

‘The Aftermath’: a 40-second provocative coda. A snatch of stirring conversation signing off the EP and label alike. What will be launched post-zero by Enrico Sangiuliano? Watch this space, this absence.

Pariah’s cult album re-issued! “Blaze of Obscurity” brings you pure Thrash Metal fury! Satan changed their name to Pariah in 1988-1989. There’s Heavy Metal, Power Metal, Thrash Metal, Death Metal, the list seems almost endless. Sub-genres are important in metal and bands are quickly classified and labeled. Pariah (the last re-incarnation of Satan) is one of few bands that are difficult if not impossible to classify. Is it Heavy metal? NWOBHM? Thrash Metal? Pariah did not make it easy to describe their sound. It might be too sophisticated to simply label it Heavy Metal, which in its infancy was a rather simple affair.

They don’t sound like any Metal band out there, perhaps discounting some of the more aggressive and technical ones, and then the signature NWOBHM sound is added. The guitar playing by Russ Tippins and Steve Ramsey is undeniably what defines Pariah as well as Satan in the past. Undeniably, Satan has gone a long way; from humble NWOBHM beginnings, to Experimental/Melodic Mettal (in Blind Fury) and something that could be described as a NWOBHM/Thrash Metal hybrid (“The Kindred”). It’s as if they’ve been experimenting trying to find their identity, and theyfinally found it. Stylistically, “Blaze of Obscurity” could be seen a step back to “Suspended Sentence”, but this time around they got everything right, down to the last note. Those who have heard Satan know what to expect: great guitar playing.

And sure enough, “Blaze of Obscurity” is a demonstration of guitar mastery and is overall a very guitar-driven album, with plenty of mind-boggling riffs and solos are all over the place, but more importantly, it’s a demonstration of some amazing songwriting as well. This is easily Pariah/Satan’s creative peak and one of the most consistent albums I’ve ever heard, featuring eight great and conceptually perfect songs with lyrics that come across as sophisticated and thought-provoking. It is not fair to put the entire spotlight on Tippins and Ramsey though since the drumming and bass work from Sean Taylor and Graham English really shines. The rhythm is fast and tight, keeping it focused, aggressive and intense till the end. Vocalist Michael Jackson (yes, that’s his name) has to be commended too as this is easily his careers best performance.

The verdict: “Blaze of Obscurity”: the level of musical genius expressed here, along with near flawless songwriting, is more than enough to skyrocket it to heights reserved only for classics. Probably not your choice for some light listening those quiet Sunday evenings, but those who take a more serious, intellectual approach when selecting their music will find very much to appreciate here.
Tracklisting

Moo is the first wide release on my new label MUP! When I decided to make a new record, it only seemed right to go back to what brings me the most joy, which is, Rock & Roll music. I got my Tascam 388 fixed, the same tape machine I had used to record my first album, King Tuff Was Dead. It had been sitting in my parent’s house in Vermont for the past 14 years, but I had finally dragged it out to LA. I stopped caring if there were mistakes. There’s not enough mistakes. I played my old, blue, Gibson SG, Jazijoo, and she spewed mangled electrified gold. For once, I sang and I didn’t hate my voice. I played the drums badly and bounced them in mono to one track and it sounded like glorious shit. I wish it sounded even worse. Rock & Roll is the music of rodents and bugs. It should sound like it crept from a decrepit trashcan or a crypt or a toilet. It is not chill or vibey, autotuned or on the grid. It is not perfect, which is why it’s perfect. And I don’t care if it’s dead or alive, cool or uncool: when I hear it, and when I play it, as a chubby and balding 43 year old punk weirdo, I FEEL ENERGIZED. All in all, MOO is a full circle moment. A return to form. A return to rock. A return to Vermont. A return to myself. Reconnecting the dots. Restarting the engine. Plugging in the stack. Finally letting King Tuff be King. Fucking. Tuff.

Moo is the first wide release on my new label MUP! When I decided to make a new record, it only seemed right to go back to what brings me the most joy, which is, Rock & Roll music. I got my Tascam 388 fixed, the same tape machine I had used to record my first album, King Tuff Was Dead. It had been sitting in my parent’s house in Vermont for the past 14 years, but I had finally dragged it out to LA. I stopped caring if there were mistakes. There’s not enough mistakes. I played my old, blue, Gibson SG, Jazijoo, and she spewed mangled electrified gold. For once, I sang and I didn’t hate my voice. I played the drums badly and bounced them in mono to one track and it sounded like glorious shit. I wish it sounded even worse. Rock & Roll is the music of rodents and bugs. It should sound like it crept from a decrepit trashcan or a crypt or a toilet. It is not chill or vibey, autotuned or on the grid. It is not perfect, which is why it’s perfect. And I don’t care if it’s dead or alive, cool or uncool: when I hear it, and when I play it, as a chubby and balding 43 year old punk weirdo, I FEEL ENERGIZED. All in all, MOO is a full circle moment. A return to form. A return to rock. A return to Vermont. A return to myself. Reconnecting the dots. Restarting the engine. Plugging in the stack. Finally letting King Tuff be King. Fucking. Tuff.

F
ourth record already here, new Triptych being scooped out of the drawers. This one is heavily video game inspired and marks a turning point for me. I’ve somehow been very much drawn to what I call “boss fight techno”, this is the result of this cogitation.

Total Debauchery kicks off the record with truculence. The title says it all, we’re very far away from warm up time, all hell let loose, big energy discharge, weird stereo bassline, pure madness. Gate Middletone certainly is wonky. It sounds like an anesthetized telephone call. I don’t know if we can refer to this as techno, but who cares, groove is spotless. Absolute Buffoonery started off as a joke with hoover sounds in mind. Turns out it is very danceable and weird enough to be on the record. It still is a foolery.

The B side starts with Demonic Shine. This one is purely dedicated to zombie games. I’ve been thinking about how techno could be interpreted for this kind of stuff. Turns out you can shoot dead people and dance at the same time. Good time. Zany Ditherings is a hard drive that keeps crashing. It disrupts the track, making it spasmodic. You are in a convulsive loop of data being thrown out the window. dc11 accepted this remix operation. His work acts as counterpoint to the record, bringing flawless techno tunneling. Buckle up mate.

During his time with the Yosuke Yamashita Trio, Nakamura poured his entire being into every note, weaving flashes of inspiration and raw impulses into powerful blows in the early 1970s. With this work, he undergoes yet another transformation. As Nakamura himself described: “Sharing space with everyone, feeling as if we’re flying freely like birds that’s the ideal.” Here, layers of sound and moments of silence expand the sonic space, and within it, Nakamura’s saxophone runs vibrantly and unrestrained.

Highlights include the exhilarating “Wolf’s Theme”, inspired by Kazumasa Hirai’s Wolf Guy series; the nostalgic melodies and relaxed groove of “Harappa”; elegant, richly textured interpretations of standards like “Body & Soul” and “I Can’t Get Started”; and the dynamic, liberating energy of “Viva Giappone”. In every track, Nakamura’s ideal is vividly realized. Featuring contributions from Toshiyuki Daitoku, Aki Takase, and Ryojiro Furusawa.

DYING VICTIMS PRODUCTIONS is proud to present MIDYRASI’S KULT’s highly anticipated debut album, Italian Dark Sound, on CD and vinyl LP formats. MIDRYASI'S KULT are revolutionary and uncompromised. Featuring veterans from such Italian doom stalwarts as Doomsword, Midryasi, Agarthi, and Fiurach, their unique blend of elements from the NWOBHM, doom metal, and early black metal – all fused in their distinctive national dark-sound tradition, which includes such cult legends as Black Hole and Death SS – results in an obscure, hypnotic, and exciting formula. In March 2025, after just one week on Bandcamp, MIDYRASI’S KULT were intercepted by Caligari Records, who released on cassette their debut demo, Mountain Devil. Featuring three songs in a concise 15 minutes, this demo reaped international acclaim for its originality and attitude. But that was but a foretaste of darker delights to come. Witness the first full-length of MIDRYASI’S KULT, Italian Dark Sound.

Truly titled, Italian Dark Sound is an intoxicating spelunk into catacombs both idiosyncratic and indefinable. Totaling 32 time-/mind-expanding minutes, the eight primary tracks here – the outro is titled “The Lost Son of Sylvester Anfang,” which should offer an obvious clue to the black-metal-minded out there – each offer something different from the next, and yet all add up into a shadowy experience that’s both rocking and atmospheric. In fact, if one were to single out an aspect between the demo and album, it’s that MIDYRASI’S KULT exude more energy on this full-length without sacrificing any of their occult aura. But, just like that demo, Italian Dark Sound features supremely pro production – gritty, earthy, and yet kaleidoscopic in texture – under the guidance of Gabry "The Way" Strada, head of RDF Studio and who’s now collaborating on the upcoming Doomsword new album. In the vein of an open artistic project, all the artwork is made by vocalist / bassist Geilt himself, and up to 11 musicians have been involved in these recordings

The duo’s debut album sets off on an airy, groovy odyssey.

Recorded at the legendary La Frette studio (Parcels, Fontaines D.C.), the album follows an extensive period of demo development.

Immersed alongside outstanding musicians, the team worked in a relaxed, old-school spirit: a handful of takes, tape recording, and analog gear. Plenty of space was left for ideas to emerge organically in the studio. The arrangements—synthesizers, flute, backing vocals, percussion—were then carefully refined over many months.



"Idésia" stands out for its delicate production, brought to life by Maxime Kosinetz on recording (Oracle Sisters, Bon Voyage Organisation), Stan Neff on mixing (Andrea Laszlo de Simone, Polo & Pan), and Chab on mastering (Daft Punk, La Femme).



The record unfolds across changing sonic landscapes, with Will’s voice gliding over melodies rooted in a bright, warm groove. A subtle blend of pop and Californian warmth runs throughout the album.

The album explores themes of childhood (Sur le Chemin de l’École, L’Île Perdue), ecstatic escapes (Holiday(s), Pas de Côté, Escalier), and simple pleasures (Le Bal, Cavalière de l’Aube). It also casts a poetic eye on the evolution of the world (Dernier Vol, Robot Rêveur, Balayeur de l’Espace). Will & Paul play with contrasts, shifting perspectives along the way.



"Idésia" is the imaginary world in which Will & Paul gracefully lose themselves - a suspended place between nostalgia and science fiction, as if their silhouettes were drifting from a bright, carefree past toward a place suspended in time.

“If I never make it home, thank you for everything.” — “Ten Years” It’s hard to believe twenty years have passed since The Academy Is… released their breakthrough debut Almost Here, a record that quietly shaped an underground era. In the years since, the band grew up, lived full lives, and ultimately found their way back. Almost There serves as a conceptual companion to their debut, reexamining the past from the present with clarity, reflection, and experience. “Almost Here was about leaving home,” William Beckett reflects. “This album is about finding your way back.” The songs capture the bittersweet truth that time moves fast, carrying a quiet urgency to chase what matters before it slips away.

Mit 30 eindrucksvollen Tracks laden Svein Berge und Torbjørn Brundtland die Hörer:innen auf eine klangliche Reise ein, die tief in atmosphärische Klangwelten eintaucht. Das Album, eine Hommage an das Ambient-Genre, verbindet hypnotische Texturen, subtile Melodien und immersive Soundscapes, die den Geist beruhigen und gleichzeitig inspirieren. Als Erweiterung ihrer gefeierten Profound Mysteries-Reihe beweist Nebulous Nights einmal mehr Röyksopps unerschöpfliche Kreativität und ihr Gespür für emotionale Klangkunst. Röyksopp: "Analoge, rohe und immersive Klänge. Das ist „Nebulous Nights“ – eine ambient hafte Neuinterpretation unseres Albums „Profound Mysteries“. Live aufgenommen, fängt diese After-Hours-Session die Essenz von Nostalgie und Verweisen ein: Huldigungen und Anspielungen, die auf verschiedene Elemente des Röyksopp-Kosmos zurückgreifen. All das ist sorgfältig in eine esoterische Hülle gewickelt, durchzogen von analoger Wärme und voll kleiner Details, die aufmerksame Hörer:innen entdecken können. Doch „Nebulous Nights“ ist mehr als ein reines Hörerlebnis: Das Album möchte die Bedeutung von kritischem Denken und neugierigem Nachforschen hervorheben. Es lädt dazu ein, die eigene Vorstellungskraft und das Streben nach Erkenntnis nicht durch ein festgelegtes Weltbild oder starre Denkweisen einzuschränken, sondern offen für Wachstum und Erkundung zu bleiben. Diese Idee wird perfekt durch ein Zitat von Albert Einstein zusammengefasst: „Das Schönste, was wir erleben können, ist das Geheimnisvolle. Es ist die Quelle aller Kunst und Wissenschaft. Wer diese Empfindung nicht kennt, wer nicht mehr staunen und sich in Ehrfurcht verlieren kann, der ist so gut wie tot – seine Augen sind geschlossen.“

Für ein vollständiges, intensives Erlebnis empfehlen wir, das Album mit Kopfhörern zu hören. "

One of the most innovative and ambitious albums ever made, Genioh Yamashirogumi’s Ecophony Rinne is a sonic masterpiece featuring over 200 musicians that expanded the limits of what music and sound could do.

Before Akira there was Ecophony Rinne. Originally released in 1986, Ecophony Rinne is a four-part symphony of “ecological music” by Geinoh Yamashirogumi that married ancient tradition with technological innovation, and changed the way we listen to music in the process.

Half-speed mastered at Abbey Road by Miles Showell, Time Capsule’s high-tech analogue reissue is the first to reproduce composer Ōhashi’s ground-breaking “Hypersonic Effect” theory on vinyl, cutting frequencies beyond the realm of human hearing into wax to capture the full spectrum emotional impact of this extraordinary work.

Founded by genius polymath Tsutomu Ōhashi aka Shoji Yamashiro, Geinoh Yamashirogumi is a shapeshifting collective of over a hundred members from across disciplines. Rejecting professional musicianship, Ōhashi cultivated an ethos where neuroscientists, psychologists, doctors, journalists, engineers and students could critique society through artistic expression and pursue their research in ethnomusicological performances that spanned global traditions, Eastern spirituality and Western classical form.

Ecophony Rinne represents the pinnacle of this vision - an expansive orchestral suite made with over 200 musicians that channeled Ōhashi’s thinking about mankind’s relationship with nature, and fundamental questions of life, death and rebirth.

Here pipe organ synths made from sampled Tibetan horns sit alongside field recordings from Central African forests, Buddhist mantras circle dummy head microphones, Javanese Jegog percussion ensembles pulse like verdant ecosystems, and the acoustics of temples, caves and landscapes are conveyed in the mix. Weaving together culture, nature and technology, it is a record that vibrates with the polyphony of life on Earth.

But Ecophony Rinne was not only musically innovative. Noticing the difference between vinyl and CD versions of the album where digital reproduction limited the sound, Ōhashi developed a theory of “Hypersonic Effect”, determining that ultra-high frequencies above 20khz can impact human perception even if they are inaudible. At once a physical and a psychological experience, to listen to Ecophony Rinne is to feel music differently.

The rest is history. After its release, Ōhashi was approached by director Katsuhiro Ōtomo to produce the soundtrack for Akira, the work for which Geinoh Yamashirogumi is best known. Emerging from the shadows at last, Ecophony Rinne was its transcendental blueprint, reissued in its most complete hypersonic form on vinyl for the first time.

Rather than describe nature, Ecophony Rinne embodied it. Rather than reflect culture, Ecophony Rinne defined it. Rather than explore technology, Ecophony Rinne changed it. As a work of art, it is more relevant than ever. You won’t have heard anything like it.

Those not familiar with Jones' style will listen slack-jawed at the sheer anticipatory nature of his sound collage. The five extended tracks are based on hypnotic and somewhat menacing grooves: a repetitive dub bass beat, waves of Middle Eastern strings and voices, layers of building hand percussion. The washes of sound and percussion come and go, often creating a sense of motion and change. All of the tracks are similar and even share elements. Mid-East tension is so accurately captured through the use of the region's instrumentation (especially percussion), sinister electronics, samples of men chanting, women crying, sounds culled from the horrors of war, and occasional angry distortion that the listener will be transported to the belly of the beast.

»Mullah Said« displays two aspects of the work of Muslimgauze. Firstly, musically, it is in the delightful drifting ambient vein. The percussion is mainly acoustic hand drums - providing a rhythm of aural features - the trademark shimmering string sound heard on a number of releases is much in evidence, rhythms are generally slower, there are lots of samples of people speaking in conversation, markets wherever. 'Mullah said' opens the disc with the lovely mix of these sounds. »Every Grain of Palestine Sand« continues the mood, with a slightly faster tempo, and more emphasis on the beat. But it soon locks into a mesmeric lassitude as various effects echo or smear the sounds, drums come in for short moments, different string sounds enjoin the play. »Muslims Die India« follows the mood though the voices seem darker, sadder, and then comes »Every Grain of Palestinian Sand« followed by »Muslims Die India«. Yes - not a typo, these tracks are repeated. Muslimgauze trend – to remix himself. Prime Muslimgauze middle eastern ambience - if you like that side you will love this album. The final track is short and different, a crackling ground over which a singer chants a song interrupted by machine-gun percussive bursts - »An End«.

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.

Undun is the story of a man, Redford Stevens, dying in reverse, rewinding from the moment he became a statistic and hitting the points in his life where he's at his most self-aware. That he's a criminal who got caught up in the familiar street-hustle trappings that the modern media's documented countless times is a pivotal detail-- it's hit at an angle that seems to emphasize the futile inevitability of it all. His life could be any number of misdirected narratives that ends with a toe tag, and what details listeners learn about him are hazy, buried under archetypal turns of fate and decisive struggles. That this protagonist is a fictionalized composite of a handful of real people, filtered through a matter-of-fact narrative that splits character ambivalence with journalistic impartiality, only makes his lack of direction and the failure of any real closure stand out even more. "Lotta niggas go to prison," Dice Raw states on "Tip the Scale", "how many come out Malcolm X?"

So the Roots' latest album isn't a sprawling, rise-and-fall crime story, not a condemnation or a veneration of a man living outside the law, not a bullet-riddled grand guignol heavy on explicit details of soldiers getting cut down. It's a character study of a man whose existential crisis ends only with his death-- a death gone largely unspecified, the glamor and tragedy washed over with a doomed resignation. That's a hard thing to pull off, even for a band as given to deep-thinking concepts as the Roots are. And when your main lyrical catalyst is Black Thought-- a man more given to allusions than direct statements-- it's likely that it'll take a while for the full scope of Undun to really sink in.

If and when it does, it might strike listeners as a bit skeletal: omit the mood-setting instrumental bookends, including a brief, four-part orchestral suite that builds off Sufjan Stevens' "Redford (For Yia-Yia and Pappou)", and you've got maybe a half hour's worth of material. By ?uestlove's accounts, writing Redford's story introduced the headaches and challenges that come with scriptwriting into their songwriting, and what's left on Undun is the end result of frequent revisions and rewrites that attempt to reconcile character, theme, and continuity. If it comes at the expense of nuance, it's not always obvious: There's an easy-to-trace narrative line from Redford's acceptance of his fate ("Sleep") to his acknowledgement of how close it's approaching ("Make My"), back through declarations of aggravated toughness ("One Time"), and celebratory fatalism ("Kool On"), along ups and downs that juxtapose motivation ("Stomp") and helplessness ("Lighthouse"). When the vocal portion of the album ends with two of the bleakest sets of verses in the Roots discography, peaking with the estrangement of "I Remember" and the desperation of "Tip the Scale", Undun reveals itself as a story where a man's actual death isn't quite as tragic as the circumstances that pushed him to it.

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

2026 Repress

A.Wild plots the course.

Goes Without Saying.

4 intricate signals for late-night movement. Remix from Eversines.

Club Blanco steps into a more finely wired zone with CBR004, a tightly detailed transmission from young Bristol producer A.Wild – a record that reveals itself slowly, layer by layer, like a signal sharpening in real time.

Still anchored with a raw, restless pull, A.Wild works with a more intricate palette here: interlocking rhythms, delicate textural shifts, and micro-melodic flickers that shimmer beneath weighty, rolling low end. These are tracks that breathe, evolve, and reward close listening just as much as late-night movement.

If previous releases moved through the static in broad strokes, CBR004 traces its own circuitry — precise, hypnotic, and quietly complex – mapping new routes through the Club Blanco continuum.

Mats Gustafsson met Jan St. Werner in Berlin when they both performed with Peter Brötzmann and a group of prolific improvisers. Mats and Jan share a passion for performing not just inside rooms but also with them, activating space and shaping sound via divertion. Mats introduces Johan Berthling who adds complex bass structures to the nervous jitter of Mats’ saxophone & pedals and Werner's digital machinery.

The trio instantly agrees on sound as a physical material which can bend and move anywhere within seconds. With this material they establish musical forms which they immediately dissect and reassemble again. It’s a nervous ride, a hyperactive conversation keen on detail and open to argument. Although IFANAME’s sound is instantly graspable it is also hard to pin down. Nothing seems stable yet it lasts, holds like some kind of catchy glue and disssapears as quickly as it came to life. IFANAME is question and concern. It is music as much as it is movement. It is attention, care, curiosity and disaster. Wherever IFANAME came from there is much more waiting ready to burst and reshape in front and inside of our ears.

Devotional music most often gets distilled into earthy chants and ancient folklore, it doesn't always ascend to the sky like Julinko’s ‘Naebula’ an album that from the first organ note clearly trades in terrestrial dreams for ethereal visions. A feverish quality permeates the whole record, as if a ritualistic performance was being captured from start to finish, a collection of hallucinatory doom, synthetic neo-folk hymns and ghostly art-rock.

Julinko, stage name for Giulia Parin Zecchin, has long been one of the best kept secrets of the experimental community in North-East Italy, with three records that helped define her unique blend of heavy psychedelia, slowcore and dark ambient. On ‘Naebula’ what really stands out is how powerful and soaring her voice is, a weapon of undeniable force that can transform into a vessel of raw fervour or glide effortlessly as a delicate lament. Her unconventional approach shines through on tracks like ‘Jeanne De Rien’, where a marching pulse acts as a pillar for an extended mantra, almost verging into powwow territory. ‘Peace Of The Unsaid’ uses its arrhythmical structure to create space, a crepuscular night ode that reaches the heights of Sinead O’Connor’s most intimate force-fulness while retaining a sweet composure. Whether it’s glacial murderous shrieks or gospel-esque vitality, songs like ‘Cloudmachine’ or ‘Kiss The Lion’s Tongue’ seem to draw as much from a tradition of European minimalism, the use of drones and repetition, to the tradition of folksongs as hymns, where modal harmonies make way for an apparent stasis. Another key element in Julinko’s songwriting is the seamless blend of her minimalistic approach with these dense textures borrowed from a distant outsider metal heritage, Lynchean noir on steroids or wordless exorcisms with deep undercurrents.