Search:bal

In 2023, Wood secretly worked with producer Kevin Antreassian on a new mix of his top-selling release "The Normal Album." Digging into the original 2019 recordings for more muscular takes, smoother edits, and a more nuanced and balanced mix, Antreassian and Wood created a version of the fan favorite that is one of the rare cases where a new mix is widely considered to improve on the original noticeably. "The Normal Album" is yet another turn in Wood's discography, sardonically playing with Americana and doo-wop sounds, strategically restrained but still highly emotive vocals, and lyrics densely packed with scientific and philosophical references. The dark mania of Wood's prior 2016 release, "SELF-iSH," continues on some tracks but is arranged with greater precision with a new band at his command. Like his 2015 debut "Everything is a Lot," the songs whiplash tonally but are brought together through intertwined themes and recurrent musical motifs and an undercurrent of simultaneous obtuseness and vulnerability. After the original mix of "The Normal Album" was released, a live version of the 4th track on the LP, "I/Me/Myself," had an unexpected viral moment, which brought attention to many other songs on the LP. Songs like "2econd 2ight 2eer" and "Laplace's Angel" continued to attract new fans with their dense wordplay and high-energy attitude, and the album became Wood's first major break into larger notoriety, proving that his sudden burst of popularity was not just a fleeting trend. After taking some time away from the public, Wood began to revisit the album with the intent of giving it the production that he had originally envisioned for it. Wood's top-selling album re-edited for a fuller sound and clearer instrumentation, bringing the album to a new level: new Modern Stereo Mix - 2023 Edit

Laurel Halo returns with an album of original soundtrack music, composed for the film Midnight Zone by visual artist Julian Charrière. Following the path of a drifting Fresnel lighthouse lens as it descends through the Clarion-Clipperton Fracture Zone — a remote abyssal plain in the Pacific Ocean, rich in rare metals and increasingly targeted for deep-sea mining — the film traces a descent into one of Earth’s last untouched ecosystems.


Charrière’s film reveals the deep not as void, but as a luminous biome teeming with fragile life: bioluminescent creatures, swirling schools of fish, and elusive predators. The suspended lens becomes an abyssal campfire, attracting species caught in the tides of uncertainty, their futures hanging in the balance.


Echoing this tension, Halo’s compositions evoke a sensory freefall, where gravity falters and light and sound flicker in uncertain rhythms. Midnight Zone is a sonic drift through the space between what we seek to extract, fail to understand, and must protect.


Halo’s score evokes the life that exists beyond our physical airbound capacity. The material features long, subtle passages of electro-acoustic ambient, drone and sound design, slowly flowing and unfolding with rich detail. The music, composed largely on a Montage 8 synthesizer and Yamaha TransAcoustic piano at the Yamaha studios in New York City, possesses an uncanny quality: that of synthetic waveforms being amplified and sung through the stringboard of the physical body of the TransAcoustic piano. Combined with stacks of violin and viol da gamba, the music on Midnight Zone possesses trace elements of a human hand in an otherwise sunken landscape. Patient, submerged, and alive. The album will be the third on Halo’s imprint, Awe.


The film is central to Charrière’s current solo exhibition Midnight Zone. The exhibition engages with underwater ecologies, exploring the complexity of water as an elemental medium affected by anthropogenic degradation. Reflecting upon its flow and materiality, profundity and politics, its mundane and sacral dimensions, the solo show acts as a kaleidoscope, inviting us to dive deep.

Jexy's back! After conquering post-pando dance floors with his celebrated Bad Timin' label, the Jexter is getting back to basics and bringing things home to his Good Timin' label. This time, the Balearic Bad Boy slams the breaks on the BPMs and delivers an album full of downtempo groovers, angelic diamondry and more hooks than a pirate convention! Get into it!

Some grooves don’t rush to the dancefloor — they crawl there, slow and heavy, like smoke wrapping around a bassline. With Fragments of Reality, The Balek Band sculpt an electronic funk that lives between shadow and light — an end-of-the-world fever dream, a Barjavel-style Ravage where chaos turns nihilistic.

No sequencer grid here — just four musicians sharing the same room, shaping air and tension together: drums locked tight with a slap bass, a guitar dripping with echo and heat, and a one-man orchestra behind his machines, weaving acid lines and synth arpeggios while mixing the band live — drenching it in delay, reverb, and saturation, like a dub producer in a Kingston studio, Lee Scratch Perry or King Tubby conjuring ghosts through smoke.

This isn’t fusion — it’s friction. A living ritual where the TB-303 hums, and machines don’t dominate but converse with the human pulse. Each track feels like a night that refuses to end — that humid in-between where trance slips into languor, and the body starts to think for itself.

The record recalls the cosmic jazz of Alain Mion or Eddy Louiss meeting the fiery energy of West African afrobeat musicians freshly arrived in a smoky Belleville basement in the mid-’80s. When The Balek Band summon ghosts, it’s only to reshape them — bending the past into something futuristic, alive, and strangely refreshing. Both disciplined and delirious, Fragments of Reality feels like a promise at dawn: dark funk for the late hours, slow acid for warm blood.

This EP isn’t nostalgic, though it remembers. It’s a transmission from a parallel past — a moment when jazz players met drum machines and decided never to stop playing. Each note sweats, each rhythm breathes. You can almost see the light cutting through the haze, faces half-awake, half-possessed.

The Balek Band aren’t recreating a moment — they’re keeping it alive.
Flesh and cables. Impulse and patience.
A band, not a loop.
A trip, not a format.

Spivak & Prins Emanuel - Imogen’s Lament

Three poems, three hymns, a lament…

Imogen’s Lament is the amalgamation of a slow-burning musical correspondence between Cypriot musician and lyricist Maria Spivak and Swedish composer and producer Emanuel Sundin, recorded over two years between Malmö and Limassol.

Imbued with a rectified balearic pop sentiment, these songs drift between myrrh-washed church pop and restrained machine dub—piercing through a veil of gothic haze as they trace the dimmer edges of an imagined Balto-Mediterranean continuum.

Fossils in Transit dropping their first EP with diverse club focused features. The label
wants to express their love for timeless pieces and extrapolating it to their own vision.
Brussel based duo Kappen & Latence showing their musical spectrum on the A-side. On
the B-side Ennio Tyson debutes his take on timelessness.
A1 is a warm and slowly building track guiding the listeners through a blissful state. This
percussion driven piece sets the perfect mood for sunrises/sunsets. In A2 the rebellious
nature is defined by punk vocals, an acid bassline and crunchy percussion. Produced for
dark clubs and peak-time slots. B1 ventures into a bass-heavy realm where scattered
perc-like vocals and stabby synths create an ominous atmosphere. Keeping the body in
check while the mind wanders. Closing the EP on B2 with an off-the-wall minimal tech
house roller. Balancing a steady energy level to keep a tight grip on the dancefloor.

While brothers Simon and Robin Lee have kept themselves busy, both with EPs as Faze Action and numerous offshoot and solo projects, it's been almost 12 years since we last heard a fresh, full-length excursion from the long-serving duo - at least under their most famous moniker. Predictably, Distant Dreams was worth the wait, with the Lee siblings continuing their richly organic approach - think live bass, guitars, strings, keys, flute and percussion alongside synth sounds and drum machine beats. Musically, it draws on their now well-known influences - warming disco, jazz-funk and Balearica with nods to other musical cultures - and delivers eight impeccable tracks that undoubtedly sit amongst their classiest work to date. It's good to have them back.

We are welcoming a fresh blood from the south of Italy: Delikwe

Words Create Vibrations is a solo EP recorded between 2023 and 2025, where techno and dub foundations merge seamlessly with ambient textures and breaky-step rhythms. Across five tracks, the record unfolds as a deeply atmospheric journey — hypnotic, spacious, and rhythmically dynamic. Sub-heavy frequencies meet shifting percussive structures, while layers of delay and texture generate a sense of depth that feels both physical and introspective. Each composition evolves patiently, acting as a meditation on resonance, movement, and the unseen architecture of vibration.

The A-side presents Delikwe’s original works in their purest form: immersive, restrained, and subtly transformative. Rooted in sound system culture yet open in structure, the tracks balance meditative stillness with rhythmic propulsion.

On the B-side, Australian producer Pugilist delivers a powerful reinterpretation. Known for his refined low-end pressure and deeply immersive productions, he reshapes the source material into a weightier, system-focused experience. His remix amplifies the sub frequencies and spatial depth while preserving the meditative core of the originals, creating a compelling dialogue between exploratory dub atmospheres and grounded sonic precision.

Words Create Vibrations stands as a sonic exploration where rhythm, space, and texture converge into a fully immersive listening experience — crafted for powerful sound systems, late-night sessions, and attentive minds alike.



c a3. Agna Street [Words Create Vibrations]
[d] b1. 6am [Ice Mix]
[e] b2. 6am [Pugilist Remix]

SOULFUL03 brings another deep and beautifully understated chapter from Soulful Dubs straight out of Finland with a special collaboration between Tm Shuffle, Monoder, and Tapani Rinne. warm, organic, and timeless. The record carries a quiet emotional depth, balancing hypnotic groove structures with spacious textures and subtle melodic detail. There’s a strong sense of atmosphere throughout, but always with enough movement and rhythm to keep the floor engaged. The collaboration feels natural and refined: you can hear the musical sensitivity in every layer, from the gently rolling low-end to the airy, dubwise treatment and the beautifully restrained arrangement style.

Katz Mulk's ''All the mess'' is a collection of songs about playing and play-work, recorded between 2023-25 in Glasgow and Tokyo. Developed from performances across the UK and during a residency at Xevarion Institute in Hong Kong, with dancers, costume design by Mary Hurrell, and mobile speaker design by Chris Ball. Slithering breath, crackling synths, dented gongs, and dub loops pull songs into unexpected, unsettling patterns, like being a kid again but with more electronics.

Another Country is the fifth full-length album by Cindy, the San Francisco-based group built around the songwriting of Karina Gill. Recorded, like all of its predecessors, in their hometown and with a consistent line-up held over from their previous record (the Swan Lake EP from 2024), it is replete with the poetry of private vistas, eavesdropped dramas and confusing winds. These are classic Cindy concerns, and yet, as always, contain new mystery and charm to somehow feel like quiet revelations each time. Another Country is both opaque in its intentions and specific in its presentation, and as such presents the kind of truth that keeps the listener on the search for answers just out of reach.
"The title of this record, Another Country, refers to the James Baldwin novel of that name. The book has a kind of drama that makes sense to me. When I look around, the obvious explanations are not enough. The miasma of feelings and ideas that is supposed to account for it all, doesn't. Baldwin washes past that to longings that begin to explain. Cindy songs come out of the x-rays my particular brain makes out of what I see and experience. What you hear on this record is the result of collaboration with the members of Cindy that transforms that shadowy thing into full color, fully fleshed. Each of them, in music, is sure-footed and unblinking, and making this record together felt like, yes, yes, you see what I mean."
Cindy is Karina, Staizsh, Will & Oli. Another Country will be released on 1st May 2026 via Tough Love.

Repress.

Step into a journey through time with Lapa Dula's debut album "Agua", proudly presented by the Early Sounds team. “Agua” is a sonic and aesthetic collage, a tribute to the sounds and memories of Naples and its surroundings in the vibrant cultural and social scene of the mid 1980s, not just a reflection of producer’s Alessandro La Padula childhood memories, but also a nod to the myths and legends of Partenope. Written between Rome and Naples and co-produced by label head Pellegrino, "Agua" is the latest addition to the imprint’s distinctive "Mediterranean sound" blending funk, Latin, world music, and disco, with songs like the balearic title track "Agua" and the nostalgic ode to rural life "Sibilla", also inspired by the myth of the Sibyl of Cumae, this album takes you on a journey of emotions and experiences.

From vernacular "Scemanfu", a fun play on the French expression "je m'en fous" (I don't care), to the contemplative "Navigante", dedicated to those who have found solace in the sea or in the virtual world, and the final track "Baibai", inspired by the adventurous and licentious affairs of English nobleman Sir Nathaniel Thorold, who lived on the island of Capri, each song tells a story and adds a piece to this mosaic of sounds, images, and places.

When Ryan DeRobertis announced the name change of his project from Saint Pepsi to Skylar Spence, there was no indication of any stylistic departure, though the change arrived with a musical shift toward faster tempos and more pristine production. Whereas Saint Pepsi had often used decades-old boogie, disco, and new wave as grist for the sampling mill, Skylar Spence is intent on trafficking more overtly in those genre aesthetics through his own production techniques and vocal contributions. With Prom King, DeRobertis reorients his music for his new full-band live act and winds up with an album full of tight and enveloping dance tunes.

Working with Carpark Records 'gave me the confidence to 'go big' with the new material: to write pop songs with universal messages in the sonic wrapping paper that I've grown accustomed to,' DeRobertis says. 'A few songs on Prom King are about specific events in my life—a party where I got too messed up, watching a friend's life spiral out of control and trying to help—but I tried hard not to be too autobiographical because I want my music to unite, above all else. I'm much more interested in connecting with the listener than mystifying my personality.'

While DeRobertis' previous long-players have been more amorphous collections in the style of beat tapes, Prom King is compact and cohesive, with the album's varied stylistic references (new wave, UK garage, boogie) united through strong guitar melodies and Todd Edwards-ian cobblings-together of tiny vocal samples. 'I slowed some music down and called myself an artist,' DeRobertis sings on lead single 'Can't You See,' acknowledging in his lyrics what is already apparent in the music's tone—he can maintain fidelity to his vision while working in more uptempo, disco-based song structures.

'Ridiculous!' and 'Bounce Is Back' are big groovers that capitalize on jacking hi-hats and hand drumming, respectively, and both have an air of Balearic warmth and smoothness. On the title track, DeRobertis entwines a chorus of unintelligible but expressive samples with his own vocals—what feels like a synthesis of two approaches—and the result is an affecting pattern of build and release. More contemplative sophisti-pop numbers like 'Fall Harder' and 'Affairs' add a realist's breadth of scope: thoughts of past foibles bleed into present-dwelling and dancing.

Prom King is DeRobertis making sense of missed opportunities. His high school did not have a prom king; he has filled the position with an imaginative album of personal and musical revisionism.

Meeting vulnerability with persistence, Lucerne-based musician Remo Helfenstein presents Spite, his first solo album on Präsens Editionen. Whereas his 2022 debut EP, Comforting Katharina, traced raw, devotional impulses, Spite expands the terrain—balancing psychedelic drift with sudden moments of clarity, wounded grandeur with flashes of pop transcendence.

The record thrives on contradiction: oscillating between the no wave austerity of Suicide and the meditative (and dadaist) expanses of Bitchin Bajas and Bonnie “Prince” Billy’s collaborative work, while opening into passages of gospel-infused spaciousness. At times intimate and porous, at times expansive and ecstatic, Helfenstein shapes a sound world that fuses analog and digital processes—both deeply personal and insistently collective. This duality comes to life most strikingly in recordings with fellow musicians Klara Germanier (background vocals and guitar), Raphael Loher (k

Somewhere close to Manchester’s ever changing city centre, as the sun fades and peeks through the newest glass facade, you’ll find Shaking Hand. One part in shadow, the other basking in prisms of light as they sketch out their own sonic landscapes in the dusty redbrick mill they call home. One that is just about clinging on from the encroaching developments that surround them.

Against this back-drop where buildings are constantly torn down & built back again, the three piece craft away. Pulling from early post-rock, and 90s US alternative rock, crafting their own brand of Northwest-emo. Assembling something new, yet nostalgic. Looking ahead towards the transforming horizon. Shaking Hand’s music is built on tension and release – quiets that stretch, louds that overwhelm. Repetition that feels both hypnotic and destabilising.

The band’s musical DNA runs through experimental guitar outfits like Women, Slint, Sonic Youth, Pavement, and Ulrika Spacek, balanced with the melodic sensibility of Big Thief and the dynamic intimacy of Yo La Tengo. Their compositions push against structure: sudden jolts of tempo, polyrhythms that almost fall apart, and riffs that unravel into something fragile or ecstatic. Yet, as Ellis notes, there’s an underlying warmth too: “Like walking through an empty city late at night but catching flickers of life in the buildings you pass.”

Early ideas like ‘Night Owl’ and ‘Sundance’ grew out of George’s lockdown “bedroom years,” where new tunings (open E, drop D, and stranger Pavement-inspired set-ups) opened up uncharted textures. Later, in grim rehearsal rooms, the murky epic ‘Cable Ties’ and the hypnotic ‘Mantras’ absorbed the gloom and grit of the band’s surroundings.

The album was recorded with producer David Pye (Wild Beasts, Teenage Fanclub) at Nave Studios in Leeds, housed in a converted church. “The live room was huge and perfect for capturing our sound,” says George. Determined to bottle their onstage energy, the band tracked the foundations live, layering vocals and guitars later. Soviet-era microphones, odd mic placements, and even phone-recorded demos fed into the mix. “You’ve got to watch out for David though,” Freddie laughs. “He made me play four tambourines in one hand, really hurt, man.”

Lyrically, the record drifts between abstraction and lived moments. George’s words often spill out instinctively, words falling into place before their meaning becomes clear. “A lot of the lyrics look like they’re buried in abstraction,” he says, “but when I look back I can see what they were about — whether that’s an emotional response at the time or just an observation of what was happening around me”. There’s contrast at the heart of it all – optimism vs. doubt, the lightness of youth vs. the monotony of work, a city in constant redevelopment vs. the people drifting through it.

The album artwork is taken from unused plans for the 1970s redevelopment of Los Angeles by architect Ray Kappe, entitled ‘People Movers’. Hypothetical buildings for real people, it feels a complement to the band’s own constructions. One thing’s for sure, Shaking Hand’s debut is built to last.

2026 Repress

johnny's disk record is an independent jazz label run by the owner of jazz cafe kaiunbashi no johnny located in rikuzentakata city in iwate prefecture, japan.

the legendary label released a string of albums of high quality but down-to-earth music, spanning from modern jazz, avant-garde jazz to left-field pop. albums such as 'farewell my johnny / left alone' and 'aya's samba' has reached cult status among fans as some of the best works to come out of the japanese jazz scene.

another japanese jazz classic, aya's samba was a debut effort by bassist eiji nakayama, who played as part of elvin jones' jazz machine and toured with don friedman.

this album is an important release in the johnny's disk catalogue, not only because it is the first ever release, but also because the owner hearing the band play was the reason why the label came to be.

'aya's samba' is a mellow jazz samba in minor key that's considered a japanese jazz classic. slow ballad 'yellow living' is drenched in melancholy with emotive keys and sax notes, while the dreamy 'sea sea town' impresses with a captivating, expressive sax solo. the 4 tracker ends with 'far-away road,' an uptempo tune with rhythmic keys.

Wasteland is a record that is unafraid to plunge into the darkness of the modern world and embrace the weirder, edgier and more unnerving moments that come from doing so. It is an album that captures all the enormity of life from the micro to the macro, zooming in on the personal as well reflecting on broader societal issues.

“Wasteland is about the idea of a place once known or familiar that is now broken down and unrecognisable,” says Ghedi. “It’s about exploring the process of watching someone’s surroundings and environment collapse.” And within that you have a lot going on. “It also explores death, personal loss, grief, mental health and how the natural world provides solace and meaning for that loss and how these worlds blur into one another.”
Ghedi has always been an artist that in many ways perfectly encompasses folk music in its purest form but he is also someone that frequently pushes the boundaries of that label and no more so is that apparent than on this record. As like previous albums, such as 2018’s A Hymn for Ancient Land and 2021’s In the Furrows of Common Place, Ghedi uses traditional folk songs as a means to explore contemporary issues via modern and experimentally-leaning music. “With the traditional material on this album I wanted to find songs with content that resonated with me,” says Ghedi. “But also that were based roughly around the north of England.” This is a central underlying theme to the album for Ghedi. The feelings of loss, erosion, and degradation are often most pronounced in working class communities and this was something he wanted to weave in. “It was important to voice and choose material that represented or expressed issues that correlated with things going on around me.”

However, as remarkable as some of the traditional material is, some of the most arresting work on the album is Ghedi’s entirely original compositions. Lead single ‘Wasteland’ is a stunning piece of work that while rooted in an environment being corrupted and broken – “there’s violence on these hills” Ghedi sorrowfully sings, before claiming this is no longer somewhere that can be called home – it is also a stirringly beautiful composition that soars and glides as it opens up, as sweeping strings swoop and in and out of Ghedi’s twangy electric guitar.

The decision to incorporate more fuller sounds, such as electric guitar and huge drums, results in a notable shift and evolution in tone for Ghedi. “The lyrical content needed something more band-driven and loud to deliver them,” he explains. “Incorporating the electric guitar in my songwriting was also a big part of opening the sound up, using drop tunings pushed me to use my voice in a wider range, which forced me to use falsetto a lot which I haven’t previously done before. That then opened the sound up and gave me creative ideas for bigger arrangements and to sonically really push things.”

What Ghedi has done in creating his masterpiece is construct a remarkable space where deeply intimate and personal feelings coexist with reflections on environment, place and society, while also interweaving historical context via traditional songs. Wasteland is as much of a world to explore and exist in as much as it is an album, with Ghedi carving out his distinctly unique sonic language and voice to explore that singular environment.

Wasteland is a record that is unafraid to plunge into the darkness of the modern world and embrace the weirder, edgier and more unnerving moments that come from doing so. It is an album that captures all the enormity of life from the micro to the macro, zooming in on the personal as well reflecting on broader societal issues.

“Wasteland is about the idea of a place once known or familiar that is now broken down and unrecognisable,” says Ghedi. “It’s about exploring the process of watching someone’s surroundings and environment collapse.” And within that you have a lot going on. “It also explores death, personal loss, grief, mental health and how the natural world provides solace and meaning for that loss and how these worlds blur into one another.”
Ghedi has always been an artist that in many ways perfectly encompasses folk music in its purest form but he is also someone that frequently pushes the boundaries of that label and no more so is that apparent than on this record. As like previous albums, such as 2018’s A Hymn for Ancient Land and 2021’s In the Furrows of Common Place, Ghedi uses traditional folk songs as a means to explore contemporary issues via modern and experimentally-leaning music. “With the traditional material on this album I wanted to find songs with content that resonated with me,” says Ghedi. “But also that were based roughly around the north of England.” This is a central underlying theme to the album for Ghedi. The feelings of loss, erosion, and degradation are often most pronounced in working class communities and this was something he wanted to weave in. “It was important to voice and choose material that represented or expressed issues that correlated with things going on around me.”

However, as remarkable as some of the traditional material is, some of the most arresting work on the album is Ghedi’s entirely original compositions. Lead single ‘Wasteland’ is a stunning piece of work that while rooted in an environment being corrupted and broken – “there’s violence on these hills” Ghedi sorrowfully sings, before claiming this is no longer somewhere that can be called home – it is also a stirringly beautiful composition that soars and glides as it opens up, as sweeping strings swoop and in and out of Ghedi’s twangy electric guitar.

The decision to incorporate more fuller sounds, such as electric guitar and huge drums, results in a notable shift and evolution in tone for Ghedi. “The lyrical content needed something more band-driven and loud to deliver them,” he explains. “Incorporating the electric guitar in my songwriting was also a big part of opening the sound up, using drop tunings pushed me to use my voice in a wider range, which forced me to use falsetto a lot which I haven’t previously done before. That then opened the sound up and gave me creative ideas for bigger arrangements and to sonically really push things.”

What Ghedi has done in creating his masterpiece is construct a remarkable space where deeply intimate and personal feelings coexist with reflections on environment, place and society, while also interweaving historical context via traditional songs. Wasteland is as much of a world to explore and exist in as much as it is an album, with Ghedi carving out his distinctly unique sonic language and voice to explore that singular environment.

No-one could have predicted the success of The 88, the first album from Minuit
(minwee), or how warmly it would be received. Equally no-one could have predicted that the band would return to the live arena a decade after their final fling or consider pressing their debut on vinyl for the first time.

Formed in Nelson, NZ in 1997, the trio cut their teeth playing regularly around the South Island’s underground club and festival scene. After a hiatus overseas, they began recording The 88 in 2002 in Ryan’s home studio. The lyrics were influenced by their travels around Europe and Ruth's time working for the UN in Kosovo and East Timor; the beats by The Prodigy, Portishead and the UK’s trip-hop and breakbeat scenes.

Signed to indie label Tardus, their tunes were eagerly picked up by the bNet student radio network, which then ballooned into high rotates on TV station C4, helped along by Alyx Duncan’s stunning video for Except You. A busy summer playing live every weekend for three months and seemingly universal praise from the music press led to them swiftly gaining gold sales.

Now 22 years later, with live shows looming, the trio have decided to revisit their debut, completing two previously unfinished tracks from the period to add a bonus to this inaugural vinyl release.