quête:autotune

,Don't Settle - Transmissions East" ist die erste Veröffentlichung von zwei Alben, die in diesem Jahr erscheinen werden. Es beleuchtet eine äußerst produktive und vielfältige Karriere und ist nicht nur ein ,Best Of", sondern ein Live-Studioalbum ohne zweite Takes, ohne Autotune und ohne Bearbeitung. Es ist einfach live, roh und direkt und fängt die Magie von Glen ein wie nichts zuvor. Aufgenommen im legendären Funkhaus in Berlin, einem historischen ostdeutschen Radio- und Aufnahmestudio mit einem riesigen, akustisch perfekten Orchester-Live-Raum, wurde das Album in einer kontrollierten Studioumgebung über zwei Nächte hinweg aufgenommen und gefilmt. Das Album wurde von Glen selbst produziert und gemischt, mit Unterstützung von Toningenieur und Produzenten Mike Goldsmith und dem Toningenieur und Produzenten Markus Schmitz.

Flanked by a team of collaborators - including Nick León, more eaze, Ultrafog and Kissen - Ben Bondy captures the Kwia-pop zeitgeist on 'XO Salt Lif3', sluicing down dappled emo and downtempo grooves with log drum thwacks, tempered field recordings and sandblasted shoegaze guitars.

Forget what you think you know about Ben Bondy; like Naemi's fuzzy 'Breathless Shorn', ‘XO Salt Lif3’ is a decisive shift away from the ambient world and towards contemporary underground pop. Last year's amapiano-tinted loosie 'Bend' serves as the album's opener and is the best taster, its slick DSP squelches, granulated drones and sub rumbles immediately swapped out for breezy acoustic guitar riffs, tuned log drum hits and Bondy's own Autotuned vocals. When Bondy turns down the temperature a little, letting the orchestral synth arrangements slip into fuller view on 'Halfmoon', a collaboration with Nick León and Aussie producer Lovefear, it's tempered by low slung emo riffs and mumbled sweet nothings.

By the time we hit 'Dreamseed', Bondy's in full swing, offsetting slow breaks and multi-tracked vocal harmonies with full-spectrum shoegaze power chords that cut into the mix like a chainsaw, with crunchy amp crackle foreshadowing the Bark Psychosis-like drop. Bondy hits a cruise when More Eaze helps out on 'There Is A Place'. Maurice's unmistakable pedal steel draws us in, used by Bondy to add an Americana accent to his euphoric fusion of amapiano and indie pop. It's music that'll make perfect sense if you've caught one of Bondy's notorious DJ sets, where you might hear anything from American Football and Jessica Pratt next to Gwen Stefani, Skinny Puppy or Sneaker Pimps. It’s this chaotic, open-hearted approach - which also plays a part in the Shineteac material - that makes 'XO Salt Lif3' so effortlessly enjoyable.

Das Avant-Rock-Sextett aus Beirut verschmilzt auf diesem großartigen Nachfolger seines gefeierten 2023er Debüts "Mais Um" Psych/Kraut, Improv/Skronk, Elektronik, Gothic und Jazzelemente mit traditionellem ägyptischem Gesang und moderner arabischer Poesie. Produziert von Radwan Moumneh (Matana Roberts, Sarah Davachi, Jerusalem In My Heart). Der Titel des zweiten SANAM-Albums ist ebenso vielversprechend wie die Musik der libanesischen Band. "Sametou Sawtan" bedeutet aus dem Arabischen übersetzt "Ich habe eine Stimme gehört". Spukhaft oder spirituell, wie auch immer man die Phrase liest, sie spricht von der Fähigkeit von Klang und Sprache, innezuhalten, Aufmerksamkeit zu stehlen und uns für den Moment zu öffnen. In ähnlicher Weise vermischt die Musik von SANAM zarte Rasereien und feuerverbrannte Balladen, indem sie frei fließende Rock- und Jazzgerüste mit der tief verwurzelten arabischen Tradition verbindet. Sie in vollem Flug zu hören bedeutet, in der Gegenwart gehalten zu werden und sich neu zu orientieren, um einen offenen Horizont zu eröffnen. Die Arbeit an "Sametou Sawtan" begann im Frühjahr 2024. Die ersten Ideen, die in den Tunefork Studios in Beirut entstanden, wurden im April während eines Aufenthalts in Beit Faris, einem mittelalterlichen Haus in der Küstenstadt Byblos, weiter ausgearbeitet. Das Sextett: Sandy Chamoun (Gesang), Antonio Hajj (Bass), Farah Kaddour (Buzuq), Anthony Sahyoun (Gitarre, Synthesizer), Pascal Semerdjian (Schlagzeug) und Marwan Tohme (Gitarren), wurde vom Produzenten Radwan Ghazi Moumneh (Jerusalem In My Heart) unterstützt. Die letzten beiden Tracks des Albums sind Aufnahmen aus den Beit Faris-Sessions, während der Rest in den La Frette Studios in Paris während der Europareise der Band im Sommer 2024 aufgenommen wurde. Die Platte verarbeitet Gefühle der Distanz und der Entwurzelung. "In den letzten fünf Jahren hatte ich das Gefühl, dass jeder den Libanon verlässt", erklärt Chamoun. "Das Album handelt nicht wortwörtlich davon, sondern von der Vorstellung, dass dich etwas verlässt. Eine Distanz zu den Ereignissen, obwohl du in ihnen lebst, eine Distanz zu deinem Haus, obwohl du in ihm wohnst." Ob in der sehnsüchtigen Ballade "Goblin" oder dem langsam brennenden, autotune-überladenen Freakout von "Habibon", Sametou Sawtan fängt das Streben nach festem Boden in einer Welt ein, die diesen nur selten bieten kann . Das Album hat die hypnotisierende Intensität des SANAM-Live-Erlebnisses, während es der Musik Nuancen, Tiefe und eine enorme dynamische Bandbreite verleiht. Wie bei ihrem Debüt sind die Texte vieler Tracks entliehen, Worte, die in neue Kontexte gestellt werden, um die Gegenwart zu verarbeiten. "Hamam" interpretiert ein ägyptisches Volkslied neu. In "Hadikat Al Ams" treibt der krachende Hardrock-Stampfer den Text des zeitgenössischen libanesischen Schriftstellers Paul Shaoul an. Und sowohl "Sayl Damei" als auch der Titeltrack verwenden Gedichte des iranischen Dichters und bahnbrechenden Mathematikers Omar Khayyam aus dem zwölften Jahrhundert. "Wenn man etwas von Omar liest, fühlt man eine Verbindung zur Gegenwart", sagt Chamoun. "Das Gefühl, dass es keinen klaren Weg gibt." "Sametou Sawtan" enthält auch zwei Lieder mit Chamouns eigenen Texten, darunter den Opener "Harik". Es war die Keimzelle des Albums, geschrieben von Chamoun im Februar 2024, wobei die Band den Track um ihre Worte herum aufbaute. Es beginnt mit einem Schauder, zerfetzter Elektronik und einer keuchenden Stimme, die das Schlagzeug durchdringt, bevor sich die Band zu einem triumphalen Aufstieg aufschwingt. Es geht um Eintauchen in "ein unendliches Feuer", verrät Chamoun. Den Text zu "Tatayoum" schrieb sie allein, bevor sie ihn der Band vorlegte. Er spiegelt eine andere Art von Intensität wider, "eine Schleife, eine Besessenheit", wie sie sagt. Buzuq webt durch schwebende Elektronik und drängende Trommeln, während Chamoun arabische Worte rezitiert, die die Liebe beschreiben. Die unaufhörlichen Energien, die in diesen Tracks erforscht werden, sind nicht unbedingt negativ. Sie vergleicht deren Intensität mit der eines Schriftstellers, der in einem Gedankengang gefangen ist, im Guten wie im Schlechten. "Es geht nicht darum, deprimiert oder traurig zu sein", sagt Chamoun. "Es ist eine Falle, aber sie kann auch magisch sein." "Sametou Sawtan" wurde von Farah Fayyad mit ikonischen Grafiken und Design versehen.

The second album on Ilian Tape comes again out of Munich city. Skee Mask doesn't spend a day without making music and the dedication, attention to detail and architectural approach really make this album an absolute trip to listen to. It's the sound of a peaceful and energetic place. It's smoky and cosy. It's where Skee Mask spends most of his time. He lives for the music and we are really happy that this freak became a core member of the Ilian Tape family. This album is made for true lovers and hustlers. Turn it up loud!

They still exist, these stories: A fresh newcomer project from Cologne sends their first demo to just one address. An A&R, who has a medically certified autotune allergy, listens to the demo, hears an autotune track and signs the band anyway. ‘Streetpoet’ by Mourad Kehailia & Sebastian Fischer aka 9OASES is as unusual as the genesis of this record. It’s a wild hybrid of raving breakbeats, a chord hook that would have done Underworld proud in their heyday and the aforementioned autotune rap. It is magical. Axel Boman is a remixer who can make the magic even more magical. His 8-minute version of ‘Streetpoet’ establishes a long overdue new genre: trancehall! With ‘New Ballad’, 9OASES show us that they really mean business with their plans for world conquest. This is great techno pop with heart and mind. We are very excited to see what the guys from Cologne will do next.

Es gibt sie noch, diese Geschichten: Ein frisches Kölner Newcomer-Projekt schickt ihr erstes Demo an nur eine Adresse. Ein A&R, der eine ärztlich bescheinigte Autotune Allergie hat, hört sich das Demo an, hört einen Autotune Track und signt die Band trotzdem vom Fleck weg. ‘Streetpoet’ von Mourad Kehailia & Sebastian Fischer aka 9OASES ist so ungewöhnlich, wie die Entstehungsgeschichte dieser Platte. Es ist ein wilder Hybrid aus ravigen Breakbeats, einem Chordhook, der Underworld zu ihren Glanzzeiten alle Ehre gemacht hätte und eben besagtem Autotune Rap. Es ist magisch. Mit Axel Boman wurde ein Remixer verpflichtet, der das Magische noch magischer machen kann. Seine 8 minütige Version von ‘Streetpoet’ begründet ein längst überfälliges, neues Genre: Trancehall! Mit ‘New Ballad’ zeigen uns 9OASES, dass sie es wirklich ernst meinen mit ihren Welteroberungsplänen. Das ist großer Technopop mit Herz und Verstand. Wir sind sehr gespannt, was die Kölschen Jungs als nächstes tun werden.

DJ support: Tim Sweeney, Make A Dance, Parris, Pleasure Voyage, Camillo Miranda

Back yard - Back yard is the first single from the new Teen Daze album, Elegant rhythms, and features singer-songwriter Andy Shauf on drums, and LA jazz staple, Sam Wilkes, on bass. This is a stark change in sound for Teen Daze, who’s last album Interior was an exploration of neon-lit House music. Back yard is a mellow groover, conjuring up images of Laurel Canyon in the 70s, yet still with its flourishes of contemporary sounds.

We’re out of phase again - We’re out of phase again is another vulnerable glimpse into the inner world of Teen Daze, and marks the release of his most personal album to date, Elegant rhythms. In contrast to the synthesized, digital world of his prior album, Interior, here we’ve been brought into a lush, organic arrangement, brought to you in large part to the stunning bass playing by Sam Wilkes. While the verses pulse forward, the chorus slows things down, and evokes the sophisti-pop sounds of The Blue Nile. This track is a stunning showcase of the world of Elegant rhythms.

Nothing’s gonna change my love - Teen Daze returns with his second single of the year, Nothing’s gonna change my love. The stark change in sound, as heard on previous single Back yard, is on display here again: a smouldering, 2 and a half minutes of slow jazz-pop, indebted to the great Sade, or perhaps the feeling of leaving downtown LA at 2 AM. Lyrically, we hear a story of a love, challenged by the unpredictable nature of our lives. This may be Teen Daze’s smoothest song to date.

Neighbourhood - Neighbourhood is the third single from the recently announced LP from Teen Daze, Elegant Rhythms. Along with Andy Shauf on the drums, and Sam Wilkes on the bass, Teen Daze gives us a languid tour of his quiet neighbourhood. The sun has set on the pleasant, tree-lined streets, and a stranger, more surreal environment presents itself. The song plods forward at an extremely comfortable pace, held down by the paradoxically loose-yet-tight rhythm section. Lyrically, we walk around the Neighbourhood at night, and while the chorus reveals a type of sobriety, the vibe of the song makes it easy to feel a little…effected.

Fade away - Fade away sets the tone for Elegant Rhythm’s side B: a deeply personal, though somewhat veiled, confession of loss. How does it feel to grieve something that was never really here? A smouldering, slowly progressing first half erupts in synthetic noise, and then fades into the ether with it’s repeating refrain, “I can feel you / feel you fade away / when there’s nothing / nothing left to say”.

Fall ahead - A sweet piano tune which serves as a quiet break in the record, intended to help the listener reflect and take a moment of pause before we reach the final two songs on the album.

HST underwater - The penultimate track on the record tells a story where the narrator finds themself in an alien, yet oddly familiar place. Arpeggios soaked in crystal blue water flow through the stereo field, while the narrator, vocoded and drenched in autotune, searches for meaning and purpose in a confusing world. This is one of Teen Daze’s most cinematic, emotional songs yet.

In the rain - It’s never really made explicitly clear on this record, but a lot of these songs find Teen Daze wrestling with life as a new father, and this song, the final on the album, expresses the fears of generational trauma. A touching, tender ode to his children, we hear Teen Daze at his most personal and vulnerable. The falling rain surrounds some absolutely breathtaking bass playing from Sam Wilkes, and Teen Daze’s signature ambient keyboard sounds.

Radio Support: Ruf Dug (Soup To Nuts on NTS)

Seoul duo Salamanda arrive on Wisdom Teeth with their latest and most focused LP yet: 'In Parallel' - a vividly textural and immersive record that brings a new level of clarity to their typically psychedelic, expansive approach. Since arriving in 2019, the pair - comprised of friends Uman Therma (aka Sala) and Yetsuby (aka Manda) - have been fast at work mapping out their elaborate, dream-state sonic world - prolifically honing their sound across four albums and over a dozen singles to date. Across their already-extensive discography the pair have established a few key calling cards. Mallet instruments and tuned drums play out playful music-box melodies. Thick washes of gaseous ambience invoke otherworldly or ancient soundscapes. And buried fragments of found sound and manipulated vocal give their otherwise synthetic compositions a warm sense of first-person narrative. Ambient and Reich-school minimalism are the music’s most obvious sonic touchstones - yet the pulse of contemporary club and pop music have never been totally out of earshot. All of these themes come in to play here - but 'In Parallel' signals a step well beyond Salamanda’s work to date. Since 2022’s 'ashbalkum' (released on Wisdom Teeth alumni Tristan Arp’s label, Human Pitch), the duo have toured extensively: at classical institutions like London’s Kings Place as well as DIY club dens like Manchester’s White Hotel, all via a series of globally renowned festivals like Mutek, Nachti and Dekmantel. Their creative set-up has grown steadily alongside to incorporate a whole suite of new machines, processes and perspectives, taking their music in bold new directions in the process. The clearest development here is in the duo’s use of vocals - a shift that has been slowly taking place over their last few records, but that comes to a head on In Parallel. The album’s lead single 'Homemade Jam' is the closest the duo have come to writing an all-out pop track: its buoyant beat and autotuned vocals sounding like something SOPHIE and Charli XCX could have written after a particularly potent batch of mushroom tea. It’s a razor-sharp slice of alt-pop that offers a mouthwatering first look at what happens when Salamanda’s sprawling, unbridled creative energy is distilled right down into something concentrated and polished. At other points their sonic explorations lead them to embrace a more upfront approach to rhythm, skirting closer than ever before to the dancefloor in the process. The meandering drums and vocal chops on 'Paper Labyrinth' are underpinned by a firm 4x4 pulse, while the dembow groove of 'Tonal, Fluid' would feel right at home in a Nick León or DJ Plead set. 'In Parallel' is a record about connection, and the warmth and nostalgic simplicity of friendship is felt vividly throughout. Its title refers to the harmony the duo have found between them as friends and collaborators - and sonic parallels are traced throughout the record as testament to this. Motifs come and go before reappearing at later points: take, for example, the melody underpinning ‘Sun Tickles’, which returns in a different key and tempo on album closer ‘Mysterious Wedding’. Parallel lines are traced between each artist and through their music, linking back to their past and pointing ahead to the future. Only Salamanda know where these will take us next.

On 'Models', Lee Gamble liberates sonic spectres to inform a suite of illusory anthems, subliming vulnerable, half-remembered fragments of dream pop, Soundcloud rap and trance in the process. Sung by cybernetic voices in an almost wordless language, his widescreen memories reverberate across the last few decades of pop history, smudging Elizabeth Frazer's surreal poetry into disembodied diva cries and Lil Uzi Vert's abstract, AutoTuned mumbles. Extracting haunted fragments of synthetic corrupted chatter and indecipherable non-words to sculpt dreamy pop simulacrums, Gamble takes the concept of the pop producer to its logical extreme; examining how intonation and language is engineered to monopolise our attention, his magical inversion of pop playing like a bewitching symphony of earworms.

2023 Repress

When the reopening is slowly approaching, chaos is slowly dissolving. We pushed the button to try the new reality and for the soundtrack we've got for one of the more club oriented releases we have made till date.

Dakar's newest affiliate midnight menace starts the release with his already known schranz alike beat, dark and acidic pushing the Dance floor limits.

Cressida strikes with a funk push which could have totally fit in a Black Nation record from 2002, one of the very few produces using swing in his tracks these days. Freshness guaranteed.

Debuting the Spaniard Jheal Bashta deliver a hyper futuristic song, amen breaks, autotune, which year is it again?

Closing the issue, we warmly welcome to the legend Deeon, who deserves no introductions. Ghetto-punk. For disc-jockeys and collectors.

We spit on your plate f*kers
#oftenplusneverminus8

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.

Loaded with tension and anchored by bold textural and stylistic contrasts, Sam Slater’s third solo full-length finds the British sound artist, composer, and engineer grappling with his creative contradictions head-on.

Having spent a life time in bands and producing records, Sam transitioned somewhat by accident through his work with Johan Johansson into working as a composer on high profile projects such as his collaboration with Hildur Guðnadóttir on the Grammy Award-winning Joker and Chernobyl, and with Pulitzer Prize-winning journalist Mstyslav Chernov on the soundtrack to the lauded 2000 Meters to Andriivka. Having a vast set of interests and influences is an asset when helping realise a directors vision for a soundtrack, but one's own musical voice can end up being constrained. In Lunng, Slater has gone back to his wildly divergent range of influences and rather than shy away from the extremes, he's used them to create a singular vision.

Take the opening track “Heatsick”: Slater imagines an extravagant fusion of 2000s drone metal and vintage British brass, welding ear-splitting overdriven drones and blown-out choral vocals to stirring trombone swells from veteran player Hilary Jeffery. On paper, it’s hard to imagine—but Slater’s intentionality conducts these polarizing elements into a surreal blur of sonic extremes, with the guitars’ relative harshness softened by Jeffery’s eerily nostalgic colliery echoes.

His last solo album, I do not wish to be known as a Vandal (Bedroom Community, 2022), showcased this breadth by assembling a team of collaborators including Sam Dunscombe and Yair Elazar Glotman. On this record he’s linking up with acclaimed multi-instrumentalist Maria W. Horn, idiosyncratic sax virtuoso Bendik Giske, versatile percussionist Adam Betts, and the aforementioned Jeffery, Slater ushers these players toward a lattice of calculated confutations.

Working to explore the tension between the divergent practices of his collaborators—Lunng was meant to be challenging. On “Praya”, Giske’s familiar overblown horn phrases are almost vaporized, vanishing among Slater’s weightless synths and Horn’s chillingly hoarse vocals. There are traces of Horn’s Funeral Folk project, but Slater shifts the emphasis, letting her voice brush past the other elements like a hallucination.

Slater’s use of extremes isn’t just in the micro; dynamics drive the album’s overall flow. “Praya” sets the stage for the record’s heaviest, most prickly moment: “Passengers”. Here, Horn’s voice cracks, rasps, and gurgles over serrated synths and Betts’ ritualistic drums. Slater turns an industrial symphony into a folk opera—dark, dramatic, and strangely beautiful—etched with Giske’s fluttering phrases.

But the mood soon shifts. Slater careens toward chaos, unleashing double-time rhythms and piercing textures familiar to anyone with a soft spot for classic black metal. These grotesque incongruities are deliberate; Slater surveys years of musical conflict and leans in, using dissent as fuel to build kinetic energy.

The weight of sentimentality bears down on “Black Metal Rewind (Night Drive Astra, 2006)”, melting teenage memories into hypnagogic ambience—shoegaze dreams whirled with angelic choral delusions. On “Death by Nostalgia, 1688”, he ventures further into polarizing territory, distorting AutoTuned voices with cryptic strings and medieval tonalities, unsettling any stable sense of past or present.

In this record Slater focuses on pure energy, color, and mood. Lunng distills years of listening into a bracing brew—boiling each sound down to its essence, then serving it with unflinching intent.

John Twells, 2025

French chanson, electro beats, pared-down or synthetic piano: at 21, Iliona draws on all of this. Plural, multifaceted, elusive. Yet her lyrics resonate as if one were singing heartache—and the love one hopes for—for the very first time.
She composes, records, and produces her tracks alone, determined to keep them as close as possible to the tunes, harmonies, and silhouettes she holds in her mind. This time, they are infused with the light of an intense love, and still carried by extreme sparseness in their arrangements: nothing—from electronic arpeggios to melodic autotune—is ever superfluous; everything has its place. Lifted by a new lightness, the tracks also echo the spirit of the yéyé sound Iliona has been listening to for a few years, without necessarily knowing the name of every songwriter or the mark they left behind. It’s their longing for carefree abandon that hovers over the hypnotic Si tu m’aimes demain and its music video inspired by the New Wave, the Beatles, and all those future memories you begin to build when you’re in love.


A gentle warmth also sweeps through the hazy doo-wop contours of Tête brûlée, and the lo-fi twist of Cocoon; but always with that veil of shadow that once floated over the apparent nonchalance of Françoise Hardy’s songs. That unease, that worried smile, resurfaces in the lovely pop gallop of Garçon manqué, an ode to the deepest friendships—the ones you hold in your arms to dance or, sometimes, to cry. Or in the delicate Cent fois, which whispers, “when will the movie scenes we quietly dreamed of come to life?”
The answer, perhaps, lies in wherever you hide, the party finds you, a superb soundtrack to an imaginary drama, whose venomous keyboards unfold the pictorial strength of Iliona’s songs.

'Oh Snap' features twelve very personal songs by Salvant (plus a cover of a verse from the Commodores’ 1977 hit “Brick House), mostly recorded outside of a traditional studio environment, and which showcase her genre-spanning tastes and influences. The MacArthur Fellow and three-time Grammy-winning singer and composer wrote these short, intimate songs as part of a creative quest: to place spontaneity and joy at the centre of her writing process, and originally recorded them alone, at home, never intending for them to be released, using digital tools and effects that she had never played with before, like GarageBand, Logic, AutoTune, Midi plugins, drum loops, vocal effects, reverb, and filters. The songs reflect Salvant’s wide-ranging musical influences from her 1990s childhood in Miami—from boy bands to grunge to classical to folk—and include party tracks with beats, samba grooves, and quiet folk songs. The album features longtime collaborators Sullivan Fortner, Yasushi Nakamura, and Kyle Poole, as well as cameos from singers June McDoom and Kate Davis.

"Oh Snap features twelve very personal songs by Cécile McLorin Salvant - plus a cover of a verse from the Commodores’ 1977 hit “Brick House” - mostly recorded outside of a traditional studio environment and showcasing her genre-spanning tastes and influences. The album features longtime collaborators Sullivan Fortner, Yasushi Nakamura, and Kyle Poole, as well as cameos from singers June McDoom and Kate Davis. Salvant has US and international tour dates throughout the summer and autumn; find more details at nonesuch

The MacArthur Fellow and three-time Grammy-winning singer and composer wrote these short, intimate songs as part of a creative quest: to place spontaneity and joy at the center of her writing process. She originally recorded them alone, at home, never intending for them to be released, using digital tools and effects that she had never played with before, like GarageBand, Logic, AutoTune, Midi plugins, drum loops, vocal effects, reverb, and filters. The songs reflect Salvant’s wide-ranging musical influences from her 1990s childhood in Miami - from boy bands to grunge to classical to folk - and include party tracks with beats, samba grooves, and quiet folk songs.
"

Opener “That’s Magic” features a magician talking us through a convoluted magic trick, to a mysterious synth theme that a celebrity conjurer might use to help the pyramids disappear. It’s probably one of the only pieces of music to draw influences from Paul Daniels. “Carpet Squares” is a hefty slab of squirming machine bass, acid squidges and clanking industrial drums, its samples extolling the virtues of fitting comfortable flooring, with a voiceover recorded on a Canadian golf course. “Vanja & Slavcho” tells the odd story of twins who have an extraordinary ability to a bustle of spiralling arpeggios and comedic sound effects, while “Tiktaalik” has a glam rock beat, guitar twangs, wild synth runs and dance music drum rolls that build to nowhere, plus processed dolphin noises and a vocal about evolution. Then there’s “Piccolo’s Travels”, a spellbinding mix of classical strings and... is that a malfunctioning Clanger?

“Album Titles” lists rejected names for the record to hilarious effect, with outlandish blips, accordion riffs and bubbling percussion setting the scene, “The 38th Parallel” is a wonky slab of electronica, while “Push It” has everything from rock guitar interjections to explosions and birdsong. If “Customer Services” imagines the bewildering experience of dealing with a sentient automated phone call, then the following “Nothing To Write Home About” is a waltz-time organ piece with a nostalgic, bittersweet air. “Ready?” lists practically every genre under the sun and gives you a burst of it, from drill to country & western, hardcore to Miami bass, and the final track, “The Void”, is an AutoTune-laced R&B track with a deep, emotional core.

That’s the genius of Wevie Stonder: their ability to make you laugh one minute, and the next transport you
to an atmospheric reverie.

Emerging from the fertile chaos of Düsseldorf’s Salon des Amateurs scene, Sequence of Events, the collaborative project of Deniz Saridas and Joshua Gottmanns, presents The Art of Memory, an album that feels both intimate and ungraspable, like recalling a dream that fades upon waking.

Rooted in the post-industrial landscapes of West Germany, The Art of Memory channels the bleak resilience of these environments into its sound. It’s a collage of kraut-infused electronics, shoegaze textures, and industrial pulses, filtered through a lens of introspective psychedelia. “We don’t consciously break down or combine genres,” they explain. “Everything is interwoven, like chemistry. Some reactions happen immediately, others take years under pressure.”

From the opening track TAR, with its stoic vocals and drum-heavy propulsion, to the robotic Meagre Gardens, where autotuned chants coil around unconventional drum programming, the album moves like a fever dream through fragmented memories. Soul Divider unfolds like a cinematic journey through yearning and desire, its repetitive pulses echoing the ache of unfulfilled longing, while Nature Hates Life distills pop music through the eyes of a killjoy: “Kurt Cobain on an AKAI MPC2000,” as the band describes it. Even moments of tenderness, like the drifting Becomings, shimmer with absolute sensuality: a seductive exploration of presence defined by absence. We lift each other up and hold each other down.

The creative process behind The Art of Memory is as fluid as the music itself. Saridas and Gottmanns, both self-taught musicians with backgrounds in fine art, worked intuitively, drawing from a shared pool of samples, text fragments, and images. Operating somewhere in the space between fin de siècle aesthetics and occultism, it’s a dream wedding with a continuous stream of meaningless (moving) images generated by human and non-human entities.

Ultimately, The Art of Memory is not an escape but an immersion. A meditation on the sensory overload of the present and the ghosts it leaves in its wake. In a world where music is often reduced to background noise for consumption, Sequence of Events offers something more elusive: a record that lingers, unsettles, and demands to be remembered.

REPRESS

New Delhi-based Peter Cat Recording Co. will release their debut album, ‘Bismillah’ on June 14, 2019 via French independent label Panache Records. Debut UK live shows are soon also to be announced by the band.


Peter Cat Recording Co. could almost have a question mark on the end of its name. Not least as founder & frontman Suryakant Sawhney refuses to explain where that name really comes from or what it means (perhaps a reference to the Tokyo jazz club owned by Haruki Murakami), but also since the very existence of the band itself raises a raft of questions. When was the last time we fell for an indie rock band for the right reasons? Not because the band in question nostalgically imitate a perceived ‘golden age’ but because they innately embody the fundamentals of such music: fantasy, sincerity and the freedom to make music without rules or career aspi- rations. And when was the last time this kind of band sounded like Sinatra, Barry White, the sweetest doo-wop, humid fanfares and a psychedelic wedding band, all at once? And all of this coming from India?
In truth, the story of Peter Cat Recording Co. was written within the triangle of San Francisco, Delhi and Paris.
In the first of these cities, Sawhney (a native of Delhi) pitched up to study film-making. More distracted by the city’s peaking live scene of the early noughties, this is where he started to make music and to sketch out an idea for the band.“
The people I lived with supported my idea of writing music, they introduced me to great mu-
sic. There used to be a great garage scene in San Francisco, like The Oh Sees also Ty Seagall, Mikal Conin, all those bands. This is a world I had never seen in my entire life. A big inspiration from San Francisco was that you could record yourself. You don’t need to be in a studio and spend a lot of money to make an album. You can do it”.


At the end of the 2000s, Suryakant returned home to New Delhi, and started his band for real, more or less the same band that plays today. “I wasn’t so concerned about will we be performing, will we be the greatest band, will we be trendy. I just wanted to make something that was consequential and important for us, I think. Something which would last, something people could listen to and be like « this is life changing ». It was for the sake of beauty”.


For the first few years and in India alone, this is exactly what Peter Cat Recording Co. did, in total indifference to the rest of the world. This was until young Parisian label Panache stumbled across the band online via Vice’s THUMP subsidiary, stupefied by the band’s cosmic video for seven-minutes-and-counting track, ‘Love De- mons’. And so in spring of 2018, ‘Portrait Of A Time: 2010-2016’ was released on Panache - making the first international release from Peter Cat Recording Co., bizarrely enough, an anthology of re-mastered, hidden gems from the band’s ramshackle back catalogue, previously recorded in Suryakant’s own living room. With Peter Cat’s off-kilter charm hitherto unheard of beyond the fringes of India, the release provided a gateway op-
Whilst the title track found its way onto Tracks Of The Year lists at the Guardian & NME, it was tricky for new PCRC enthusiasts to get a firm grip on the startling push/pull between the immediate, uncanny music this release gathered, and the cultural backdrop of New Delhi at which it was so startlingly at odds.


Opportunity for a wider fanbase to fall in love with their cloud-like, drunken songs for the first time.
If discovering your favourite new band via a ‘Best Of’ feels a curious premise, then ‘Bismillah’ does more than hint towards the promise of Peter Cat Recording Co’s future. Blending gypsy jazz, psychedelic cabaret, space disco, bossa supernova, Bollywood and uneasy listening with kaleidoscopic ease, in many senses, the band’s knack hasn’t altered. Always different, paradoxical, unpredictable yet somehow familiar. The new album opens to the strains of bird chatter, the whisper of a city’s soundscape and the first few notes from an instrument which seem to be calling us to the departure lounge, a fore-shadow of the flight ‘Bismillah’ launches its listener
on. Suryakant sings with the detached, rueful elegance of Sinatra marooned on a desert island, whilst his band create small space-time capsules which navigate their way through genres and eras – including the future – and between nostalgia and eccentricity.


Peter Cat recently trailed ‘Bismillah’ with the release of ‘Floated By’, an appositely titled musing on failure & missed opportunities, punctuated by the fulsome brass section which weaves through so much of the album.


The languid, blue quality to the track is offset by the attendant music video, created with footage shot, implau- sibly enough, at Suryakant’s own marriage ceremony (needless to say, the wedding band hired for the day was of course, Peter Cat Recording Co.) Sawhney dryly notes; “Hopefully it’s not a many-a-times-in-a-lifetime event. You can’t fake that set, those people actually having a good time, being really emotional and intense.” ‘Bismillah’’s colour-drenched album cover also captures Suryakant’s father-in-law making his wedding toast on that same day - a nod back towards the cover of ‘Portrait Of A Time’, itself a black & white image taken at the wedding ceremony of Suryakant’s own father.


A stumbling but gracious collection of songs rooted in a kind of drunken soul music, the melancholy nature of some of the songs on ‘Bismillah’ renders them almost liquid, before they develop into more dance-like shapes. Suryakant’s rangy voice swoops from the falsetto glide of ‘I’m This’ to the beat-up baritone blown along by the warm breeze of ‘Soulless Friends’. The elliptical structure of album opener ‘Where The Money Flows’ also al-
lows for the use of brief bursts of autotune effect on his vocal without feeling incongruous, whilst the desultory lyrics of ‘Heera’ (a Hindi word for diamond) - sharing something with the Morricone school of grand storytelling - have an emotional weight that would impress even coming from a native English speaker. Perhaps the most gleefully unpredictable moment on ‘Bismillah’ comes with the illusory, vocal loops on the intro to ‘Memory Box’, errupting into 8 exhilarating minutes worth of unbridled, string-backed disco joy. A cat might have nine lives, but on ‘Bismillah’ and beyond, Peter Cat Recording Co. are hinting towards an un- knowable multitude of dimensions. Throw them all together, and it equates less to a listening experience and more to an out-of-body experience.


Peter Cat Recording Co. are: Suryakant Sawhney (vocals/guitar/organ), Dhruv Bhola (bass), Kartik S Pillai (organ/guitar/electronics), Rohit Gupta (horns), Karan Singh (drums)

Benét betrachtet sein neues Indie-Rock-Album „Make `Em Laugh“ als eine Art Clue-Spiel. Er versucht herauszufinden, wann und wie genau eine Beziehung gescheitert ist. „Make`Em Laugh“ ist ein Dokument der Entdeckung und Selbstverwirklichung, das eher Fragen als Antworten enthält und Benéts Fähigkeit, viele komplexe und widersprüchliche emotionale Zustände zu durchlaufen, prägt auch den Klang der Musik: Das Album ist dynamisch, lebendig und genreübergreifend. Seine warme Stimme glänzt in nachdenklichen Indie-Rock-Stücken wie „Pieces Of Me“ und „Demon“. In „Too Scared to Say“ setzt er Autotune ein, um ein Gefühl der Verwirrung zu vermitteln, ein Gefühl, das in dem experimentellen elektronischen Stück „Slimmer“ noch verstärkt wird. Benét und die Sängerin AnnonXL tauschen ihre Strophen aus, während sich die Produktion von kristallin und sanft zu aufregend laut und energiegeladen wandelt. Benét genoss auch die Zusammenarbeit mit den Künstlern, die auf dem Album vertreten sind. Er entdeckte die Musik von Margaux, als sie in dem Brooklyner Lokal Baby's All Right auftrat, in dem er arbeitet, und war begeistert, als er feststellte, dass die Fans in den YouTube-Kommentaren zu seinen Videos bereits eine Verbindung zu ihrer Arbeit hergestellt hatten. Faye Webster ist seine beste Freundin und jemand, von dem er glaubt, dass sie zu seiner Begabung passt, scharfsinnige Fragen über Beziehungen zu stellen. Und der wirbelnde, vibrierende Vers von AnnonXL auf „Slimmer“ war so gut, dass er Benét kreativ anspornte. „Make `Em Laugh“ mag damit begonnen haben, eine Trennung zu verarbeiten, aber als Gesamtwerk blickt es weit über die Besonderheiten einer einzelnen Beziehung hinaus. Es ist Musik, die sich über die großen Fragen des Lebens Gedanken macht, die uns alle verbinden, und die Trost in der Gemeinschaft findet. Wenn das Album ein Clue-Spiel ist, dann eines, das alle Einsichten und Geschichten der unzähligen Spieler im Raum ebenso einfängt, wie es sich auf das Ergebnis des Spiels selbst konzentriert.

Benét betrachtet sein neues Indie-Rock-Album „Make `Em Laugh“ als eine Art Clue-Spiel. Er versucht herauszufinden, wann und wie genau eine Beziehung gescheitert ist. „Make`Em Laugh“ ist ein Dokument der Entdeckung und Selbstverwirklichung, das eher Fragen als Antworten enthält und Benéts Fähigkeit, viele komplexe und widersprüchliche emotionale Zustände zu durchlaufen, prägt auch den Klang der Musik: Das Album ist dynamisch, lebendig und genreübergreifend. Seine warme Stimme glänzt in nachdenklichen Indie-Rock-Stücken wie „Pieces Of Me“ und „Demon“. In „Too Scared to Say“ setzt er Autotune ein, um ein Gefühl der Verwirrung zu vermitteln, ein Gefühl, das in dem experimentellen elektronischen Stück „Slimmer“ noch verstärkt wird. Benét und die Sängerin AnnonXL tauschen ihre Strophen aus, während sich die Produktion von kristallin und sanft zu aufregend laut und energiegeladen wandelt. Benét genoss auch die Zusammenarbeit mit den Künstlern, die auf dem Album vertreten sind. Er entdeckte die Musik von Margaux, als sie in dem Brooklyner Lokal Baby's All Right auftrat, in dem er arbeitet, und war begeistert, als er feststellte, dass die Fans in den YouTube-Kommentaren zu seinen Videos bereits eine Verbindung zu ihrer Arbeit hergestellt hatten. Faye Webster ist seine beste Freundin und jemand, von dem er glaubt, dass sie zu seiner Begabung passt, scharfsinnige Fragen über Beziehungen zu stellen. Und der wirbelnde, vibrierende Vers von AnnonXL auf „Slimmer“ war so gut, dass er Benét kreativ anspornte. „Make `Em Laugh“ mag damit begonnen haben, eine Trennung zu verarbeiten, aber als Gesamtwerk blickt es weit über die Besonderheiten einer einzelnen Beziehung hinaus. Es ist Musik, die sich über die großen Fragen des Lebens Gedanken macht, die uns alle verbinden, und die Trost in der Gemeinschaft findet. Wenn das Album ein Clue-Spiel ist, dann eines, das alle Einsichten und Geschichten der unzähligen Spieler im Raum ebenso einfängt, wie es sich auf das Ergebnis des Spiels selbst konzentriert.