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Oceanine, Jolanda Moletta’s third album and her first for Beacon Sound, is a powerful and ethereal statement of artistic community. Expanding on her previous work, each track represents a collaboration with a different female vocalist, with the foundational elements being generated entirely by her own voice. By turns haunting, enchanting, and inspiring, you won’t want to come up for air once you’ve been pulled under. Representing a
musical practice that is distinctly feminist, this is an album with a longer view in mind, to an age when the altars were to goddesses and women were centered as powerful beings representing the earth’s cycles of regeneration and renewal. Oceanine then, in all its beauty, can be viewed as an album of survival. It is deeply transportive, accessing something that lies within all of us. As the late, great Lithuanian folklorist and archaeologist Marija Gimbutas noted, “We must refocus our collective memory. The necessity for this has never been greater as we discover that the path of 'progress' is extinguishing the very conditions for life on earth.”

Jolanda Moletta is a multimedia artist and one-woman electronic choir. She creates wordless compositions through extended vocal techniques, integrating wearable-controlled live processing, alongside symbolic visuals. Moletta considers her performances to be a collective ritual and creates her Sonic & Visual Spells following the cycles of nature and the moon. Jolanda's 2022 critically acclaimed album Nine Spells was released on the Ambientologist label, followed by Night Caves on Whitelabrecs in 2025. Moletta’s artistic practice is a radical and spiritual journey through sound art, ritual, and the symbolic archaeology of the feminine.

Oceanine is inspired by sirens, water nymphs, and the timeless call of the sea. At its core lies Jolanda’s deep, lifelong connection to the Mediterranean Sea and to the ancient and modern myths and folklore that have emerged from its waters. Growing up by the Mar Ligure, Jolanda was surrounded by stories carried by salt, wind, and waves: legends of sirens, echoes of ancient voices, and the sea as both origin and oracle. This intimate relationship with the Mediterranean is not merely a backdrop, but a living source that shapes Oceanine’s emotional, symbolic, and sonic world.

Each track features a different female vocalist, creating a rich tapestry of voices, styles, and perspectives. This artistic choice not only broadens the album’s sonic palette, but also deepens its narrative core: celebrating the power, beauty, and mystique of feminine energy through myth, history, and sound.

The entire album is built exclusively from the human voice, processed and layered, yet always remaining voice, and nothing else. For each piece, Jolanda invited every vocalist involved to contribute a raw stem: a short, unedited melodic fragment of just a few seconds, inspired by the album’s themes. These intimate vocal seeds became the foundation of each track: the guest artists’ voices appear as brief, melodic stems, while the entire surrounding “orchestral” fabric is created solely from Jolanda’s own layered and processed voice. In this way, Jolanda’s voice becomes the Ocean itself, embracing, absorbing, and carrying the sirens’ calls within a vast, immersive soundscape. Every song is a unique expression of the feminine experience, revealing its depth, complexity, and emotional range, echoing the call of the sea and the many faces of the siren archetype.

The figure of the siren has transformed across centuries. In myths of Ancient Greece and Rome, sirens were hybrid beings, part woman, part bird, whose irresistible songs lured sailors to their doom. During the Middle Ages, the image shifted toward the half-woman, half-fish figure, often associated with temptation and danger. Historically, the voice of women has often been feared. Sirens were considered harbingers of misfortune not simply because they seduced or destroyed, but because they were powerful liminal beings.

In Ancient Greek, sirens functioned as psychopomps: figures who existed between worlds and guided souls, especially between life and death. Their songs were believed to carry forbidden knowledge, including prophetic insight and the ability to reveal truths about fate and the future. The danger of the sirens lay in what they revealed: knowledge that humans were not meant, or ready, to hear.

Oceanine confronts this legacy head-on. The voices heard throughout the album are not merely beautiful: they are dark and luminous, wild and enchanting, magical, soothing, dreamy, and at times fractured or distorted. They whisper, lament, beckon, and enchant. Like sirens, they skim the surface of the water and sink into its depths, hovering on the edge between tenderness and danger, vulnerability and power. They rise toward the sky, dissolve into mist, and return as echoes charged with raw, elemental emotion: voices that seduce, warn, mourn, and remember. They refuse to be reduced to decoration.

Alongside the album’s release in May, Oceanine will also unfold as a visual and performative work through a short art film. The film includes a live session recorded inside a sea cave facing the Mar Ligure, the very coastline where Jolanda spent her childhood, dreaming of sirens and listening to the sea as if it were speaking directly to her. This site-specific performance reconnects the music to its place of origin, allowing the voice to resonate within stone, water, and air, and transforming the cave into both a sanctuary and a threshold between myth and reality.

What if the sirens’ songs were considered dangerous because they carried another truth, an ancient truth long forgotten?

Oceanine embraces the idea that we are still deeply woven into myth. Though we may see ourselves as rational and modern beings, our world is saturated with ancient symbols and archetypes, often distorted, simplified, or stripped of their original meaning. And if those symbols are allowed to shift, if the mirror once held by the siren becomes an invitation to look beyond appearances and into what has been obscured, then we may finally uncover a deeper truth and reclaim the voice that was always ours.

Oceanine is not just an album. It is a reclamation, a spell, and a call from the depths.

This expanded edition presents the soundtrack with previously unreleased material not included on the original vinyl release, offering a more complete overview of Micalizzi’s work. The package is further enhanced by an 8-page full-color booklet featuring original artwork, extensive liner notes on the film, direction, and score by journalist Fabio Babini, as well as a personal contribution from Franco Micalizzi himself.

Composed by Maestro Franco Micalizzi for the cult 1984 film Non C’è Due Senza Quattro, starring the iconic duo Bud Spencer & Terence Hill in a rare fourfold role, this soundtrack captures the playful spirit and global flair of the film.

Micalizzi delivers a vibrant and rhythm-driven score, infused with warm Latin influences, breezy melodies, and an unmistakable sense of lightness. The result is a richly entertaining listening experience that perfectly mirrors the film’s humor, energy, and escapist charm.

A joyful and sun-soaked addition to any collection, this release stands as both a nostalgic tribute and a testament to Micalizzi’s enduring legacy in Italian cinema soundtracks—best enjoyed, perhaps, with a well-mixed cocktail in hand.

©℗ 1984 – Beat Records Company. Reissued by Holy Basil Records under license by Beat Records.

“Arde” is the creative peak of the Madrid-based experimental collective: 14 cinematic, hypnotic, and emotionally devastating songs that masterfully blend post-rock atmospheres, alt-folk introspection, traditional Spanish elements, and complex, often cathartic arrangements.
The album's UK connection is through Stuart David (Looper, Belle & Sebastian), who championed the band to Sub Pop, leading to their international breakthrough. On Metacritic, it holds a 77/100 score based on 6 reviews, with AllMusic praising its "spectacular balance of beauty and tension”. CMJ New Music Monthly highlighted it as "one of the brightest artistic lights in the diverse Iberian indie-pop scene".
Pitchfork awarded it a 9.3/10 in 2001—the highest score for any Spanish artist to date—describing it as “nothing short of elemental in its beauty”. The album also succeeded in France (PopLane, 2001), with strong coverage in Les Inrockuptibles, Magic!, Le Monde, and Libération. Migala shared stages with key acts like Smog (Bill Callahan), Mark Kozelek (Red House Painters), The Magnetic Fields, Damon & Naomi, and served as Will Oldham’s (Bonnie “Prince” Billy/Palace) backing band during his Spanish tour in 1998.
This new edition has been painstakingly remastered from the original Cubase projects (summer/fall 2000). Every track was exported individually and given a fresh, zero-compromise mastering. The result is a significantly clearer, more open, defined, and powerful sound — especially in the rhythmic foundation — while fully preserving the warm, organic lo-fi character of the original. An absolute must-have for indie, post-rock, alt-folk, and collector sections — a genuine classic that belongs in every serious record store and deserves rediscovery.

“The music on this record is a reflection of journeys and travel. The real world kind and the metaphorical ones as well. Having experienced the arrival of my children, the decline and departure of my parents, and the many years of venturing out and returning home in my own life, travel feels like the perfect tropology to consider the mysteries we inhabit. Travel and its impressions, rituals, superstitions—the possibilities and risk-all open up onto the landscape of our biggest questions, fear and wonder.

“Two songs established the spine of this music. Songs I’ve always loved, it seems even before I’d heard them. The first one, and the source of the title is ‘You Belong to Me’ by Jo Stafford. Colonial overtones unmissable to our modern ears aside, it’s also a beautiful mid century romance—and an ode to the threat of a shrinking world. The song represents the loneliness and the mystery of being alone and left behind. The singer is not asking their loved one to shut down horizons, merely reminding them to return when the traveling is done. To set aside The Silver Plane of transition, change and the in-between for the intimacy of solid earth.

“The second song is ‘Promised Land’ by Chuck Berry. Also about a journey and another one that moves easily between allegory and narrative. The singer is on the move across segregated America trying to get to the promised land of California. The song is both a tall tale that evokes Mark Twain, and an American epic that can keep good company with Herman Melville. When the hero finally makes it to California, his first instinct is to call home and reassure the Old World that he’s safely arrived in the new one.

“The songs on Fly the Ocean in a Silver Plane were recorded at home over the last couple years. I played electric guitar, rubber bridge acoustic guitar, Ableton Live and an Electron Digitone synth. My friend Mallory Linnehan aka Chelsea Bridge contributed beautiful violin and vocals to a couple of the songs. We recorded those performances on a summer afternoon in Chicago at the Not Not space with the windows open.

“The cover is a photo of my mom—one I never saw when she was alive. With the headscarf and that excited, nervous expression, she looks about to embark on a journey. Ready, finally, to cross the tarmac and board the Silver Plane. “Wishing safe travels to all.” — Mark N / Pan•American



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Seefeel sind mit ihrem ersten Album seit fünfzehn Jahren zurück – einer wunderschönen, verträumten und entrückten Sammlung fragmentierter Melodien und ätherischer Klangtexturen.

In gewisser Weise kann man dieses Album als Seefeels "Dub"-Album betrachten: Die täuschend wolkenartigen Arrangements von Mark Clifford wirken bei geringer Lautstärke fast wie Ambient, doch über eine gute Anlage kommen der wuchtige Bass und der gekonnte Einsatz von Effekten deutlicher zum Vorschein und verändern die Wahrnehmung von Zeit und Klangort. Wie immer bei Seefeel driftet das Album jedoch nie zu weit in kalten Experimentalismus oder synthetische Klangfarben ab. Der stark bearbeitete Gesang von Sarah Peacock verleiht den Stücken eine wichtige menschliche Note, während bearbeitete Gitarrenloops Melodiefragmente durch die Hallfahnen schweben lassen.

Da die Band lange Zeit als Schnittpunkt zwischen elektronischer Musik und experimenteller Gitarrenmusik wahrgenommen wurde, wurde sie während ihrer Anfangszeit oft übersehen, da ihre Musik keiner der beiden Szenen sofort zugeordnet werden konnte. Im Laufe der Jahre erwies sich diese Verschmelzung der Genregrenzen jedoch zunehmend als prophetisch für die zukünftige musikalische Entwicklung. Seefeel schufen sich einen Musikkatalog, der im Gegensatz zu manch anderen Bands nicht so schnell gealtert ist. Ihr Einfluss wird von einer neuen Generation von Künstlern wie Maria Somerville und Yu Su hervorgehoben, und 2026 melden sie sich mit "Sol.Hz" zurück, einer Sammlung neuer Tracks, die die Annahme bestärkt, dass Seefeels Zeit endlich gekommen ist.

Istanbul-based producers Grup Ses and Gökalp K present their collaborative album on SOUK Records, showcasing a distinctive fusion of musical styles such as hip hop, grime, dubstep, and jungle. Two years in the making, their self-titled album features contributions from Cologne-based multi- instrumentalist Elektro Hafız, Marseille-based DJ Syr from Scratch Bandits Duo and Ethnique Punch, a Turkish MC & producer now based in Bremen.

Grup Ses project began in 2007, initially focusing on edits and breakcore mash-ups. By 2008, it evolved into a beatmaking project incorporating elements of humor and local materials such as records, tapes, and radio broadcasts, which have become the signature Grup Ses sound. Grup Ses has previously collaborated with sub-labels of Discrepant, releasing two albums on SOUK and three mixtapes on Sucata Tapes.

Gökalp K, the alias of composer and sound designer Gökalp Kanatsız, has been releasing music since 2011. Under this name, he has released two albums and performed as a DJ. Alongside his beat production, he also composes electro-acoustic music and collaborates with creative studios as a sound artist on various interdisciplinary projects.

* Edition of 500 colored vinyl (transparent purple)
* Artwork developed in collaboration with Paris-based visual artist Caroline Ventura
* Including download code

i got a song, it’s gonna make us millions is the highly anticipated new album by Sirens Of Lesbos, led by sisters Jasmina and Nabyla Serag. The dynamic release is a vibrant showcase of the group's expansive musical range, blending R’n’B/Soul, Afrobeats, electronic music, and lo-fi indie pop into a rich, genre-defying experience. With its eclectic sound and captivating melodies, the album solidifies Sirens Of Lesbos as a standout force in modern music.

Featuring on the album are the singles “Room 333” feat. Kendrick-Lamar-collaborator Zacari, a futuristic R’n’B song with progressive club beats; the epic “Call Me Back” (feat. Drake-co-signed rapper SadBoi and the Kabusa Oriental Choir); and dub-infused reggae song “Let It Hurt”, plus new song “My Moon”, which draws inspiration from artists like Bruce Hornsby, Justin Vernon, and Jai Paul. Sirens Of Lesbos have earned widespread acclaim from outlets like CLASH, COLORS, Dork, Tsugi and Earmilk, with BBC 1Xtra’s CassKidd calling the collective “magical.”

As Black women living in the diaspora, Jasmina and Nabyla navigate the intersection of their parents’ collectivist North-East African culture and the Western emphasis on individuality. Questions of identity have always been central to their journey. While society often demands clear-cut definitions, the sisters have come to embrace their multifaceted identities: “We have always been many things.”

Both artists are deeply rooted in the technical and philosophical dimensions of sound. Jasmina recently completed her Sound Arts degree, and Nabyla is now finishing hers. Their academic pursuits have included creating abstract sound installations in exhibition spaces. However, their focus for the foreseeable future is on elevating the Sirens Of Lesbos project, writing and producing standout indie pop tracks, performing live, and delivering unforgettable experiences for their audiences.

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The vinyl version of i got a song, it’s gonna make us millions is published by Präsens Editionen, a Switzerland-based publishing house and music label. Founded in 2011 in the process of launching zweikommasieben Magazin, Präsens Editionen has since released music on vinyl, cassette, CD, and digital formats—alongside magazines, books, and other printed matter. Recent audio releases include works by Martina Lussi, spalarnia, Magda Drozd, Anom Vitruv, Belia Winnewisser, and Red On, among others.

Hip-hop royalty returns—Bun B and Statik Selektah team up once again for the fourth chapter of their blazing collabo-rative saga: TrillStatik 4. Recorded in real-time with that unmistakable underground urgency, this album is a master-class in modern rap chemistry, blending Bun B’s Southern grit with Statik’s boom-bap precision.

The guest lineup is nothing short of legendary. From DJ Premier setting the tone on “Live From Houston,” to Griselda heavyweights Westside Gunn, Conway The Machine, and Boldy James blessing “Trillselda 2,” every track hits with purpose. Regional flair runs deep, too—Paul Wall, Maxo Kream, and Lil’ Keke represent H-Town with pride, while East Coast lyricists like Termanology and Tek bring bar-for-bar fire.

This is more than a record—it’s a cipher of cultures, connecting street narratives, soul-drenched beats, and coast-to-coast talent.

Just before dropping the 3rd chapter in his "Threesome" series, Hus Kingpin surprises us with a brand new EP on which he gets out of his comfort zone, rapping on some chill hop beats provided by Wun Two and Made In M, once again proving the versatile and creative MC he's always been! Hand-Numbered pressing limited to 350 copies.

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.

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.

Season 2 formed in late 2024, bringing together seasoned Melbourne musicians with previous and current projects including Parsnip, The Stroppies and Phil and the Tiles. The five piece, comprising Carolyn Hawkins, Claudia Serfaty, Charlotte Zarb, Freya McLeod and Matt Powell, quickly set to work writing winsome, DIY, shimmer-pop hits that careen through your mind in a gratifying dizzy rush.

With a clear collective vision and little time to waste, Season 2 spent 2025 writing and recording, appearing live only a handful of times. Finally, this April, the band are primed for their debut release, a full-length album entitled 'Power of Now'. ‘Power of Now ‘is a cerebral explosion of melody, hooks, drones and rhythm. In the vein of The Feelies, The Vaselines and The Clean, Season 2 have whipped up a sonic whirlwind. It's a giddy thrill of snappy slap, catchy gang vocals and crystalline guitar refrains.

'Abundance of Power' is a bittersweet bop of ponderous bass, crisp chord flashes and grounded vocals that dwell on slighted futures and bored realities. 'Becomes a Dream' is a delirious race of scrappy strumming and flying phrases that unsettle as much as they pinball endorphins - "pour the ink into the sand, watch the dog it bites the hand". "Tell me something, elbows on the table, I'll tell you nothing, leave you tugging at the cable" they sing on the peppy future single 'Tugging at the Cable', capturing a certain innocent, wide-eyed expressiveness. Season 2 do sparky well, their songs are instant rewards, tunnelling into your subconscious and testing the dance floor. They keep everything moving, the beat and the conversation. Season 2 sound barely controlled and all the better for it, you have no choice but to be swept up.

'Power of Now' was recorded by Alex Macfarlane (The Green Child, Chateau) and mastered by Mikey Young. It will be released digitally and on LP (black vinyl) on April 24th, internationally via Upset The Rhythm and locally in Australia by Spoilsport Records.

p:m is delighted to welcome Kumarachi to the fold - a Nottingham-based artist with a deep catalogue steadily built over the past 11+ years. For the label’s first 10” vinyl cut, Kumarachi teams up with his old friend, the wonderful Liam Bailey, for some rudeboy pressure on the a side, while flying solo for the b.

Tracklist:
A. On Sight: snappy snares, snarling bass, and shifting percussion meet the dulcet tones of Liam Bailey, who turns in a different kind of original dancehall style vocal that gets people skanking and swaying.

B. Cast No Shadow: a heavy-hitting track of pummelling breaks and beats, heavy bass, dub fx, and synth stabs, reminiscent of Star Wars’ X-wings in space.

In Kumarachi’s own words: “On Sight was just a loop when I sent it to Liam, then arranged and built around his vocals. I played it to a couple of people for feedback and to test out, it luckily found its way to DJ Flight via Sweetpea, so a big thanks to her too. Both myself and Liam felt play:musik is the perfect label for On Sight, with what Flight stands for musically and culturally, there’s a definite alignment within the lyrical content aswell. It’s a perfect fit. Cast No Shadow was written later and specifically for this release to contrast and complement the flip. It actually came together quite quickly - referencing classic combinations, whilst hopefully sounding fresh for 2026.”

2026 Repress

Anenon's tenor saxophone breathes an emotive contemplation on loss, meshed with sustained piano and field recordings. 'Moons Melt Milk Light' is a hyper-personal statement contained in a visceral beauty.

LA native Anenon returns with a highly anticipated new album 'Moons Melt Milk Light' on Tonal Union, bearing his most personal, expressive, and arresting works to date. Anenon is the ongoing solo studio and live project of Brian Allen Simon, whom since 2010 has released multiple albums and EPs to critical acclaim, including the highly revered 'Tongue' (2018) and 'Petrol' (2016).

'Moons Melt Milk Light' is direct, efficient, and unwavering in its immediacy. Anenon departs from the electronics of previous works, and embarks on a reductive, almost entirely acoustic approach consisting of piano, tenor saxophone, bass clarinet, and field recordings. All of the music was improvised with everything recorded as either a first or second take with no edits. Any layering happened fast and in the moment, and yet the sonic architecture of the whole feels both planned and refined.

"I feel a kinetic and messy honesty that doesn't exist in any of the other music I've ever made. There is also a sense of being settled, of calm. There is no faking it here."

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.

VERY LIMITED BLACK VINYL WITH DOUBLE-SIDED INSERT (NON-RETURNABLE)

California composer Phil Geraldi’s vinyl debut both refines and refracts his signature muse of interstitial Americana across 11
melted glass mosaics of processed guitar, decayed radio glow, and Harmonia synth horizons: Rural Deceased Undiscovered. He
describes his vision for the pieces as “multilinear,” rearranging classic radio songbook elements like hooks, choruses, and
emotional cues into unfamiliar topographies of “alien country.”

Shards of acoustic guitar and pedal steel flicker in long shadows of amplifier hum and airwave static, like the scrambled
broadcast of some heartland station along a desert highway. It’s music both rustic and placeless, warped by weather and
technology, shimmering like northern lights over the badlands.

They Came Like Swallows is the first album-length collaboration between Thurston Moore and Kramer (now officially Bonner Kramer), two giants of alternative/ experimental music. The accomplishments and influence of these two artists in the world of independent music cannot be overstated and the result of their artistic union is a startlingly cohesive statement that burns through landscapes of primitive outsider rock, avant-garde composition, progressive ambient and further locales boldly and beautifully unnamable. “Kramer and I reconnected in Miami, Florida, a few years back, many many years after each of us had departed NYC on separate life adventures. It was only a matter of time before Kramer and I started making plans to record together and with his irrepressible due diligence he quickly set up a mobile recording contraption in the pad I was decamped in, the Florida sunshine flowing through the palm leaves, lithe lizards skittering across the windowsills, and we just went for it.

Kramer had the idea to cover a Joy Division tune, a left turn from the improvisations we had been tracking, though wholly in keeping with both our sensibilities of light and dark unifying in transcendent songwriting, both of us devotees of 'the song' as well as 'the freedom.’ What transpired is They Came Like Swallows, a session we immediately felt should exist as a prayer to the war-torn souls of the families of Palestine continually decimated by the brutality of genocide. We agreed beyond words to offer our music as a sonic activism and as a beneficent energy. This album is our duo exchange for human dignity, it is our soul music for any semblance of a peaceful planet.” ~ Thurston Moore “For the first time in our nearly 45 years of friendship, we had identical time windows open to make a record together,” recounts Kramer. After all this time not a moment is wasted as the duo immediately taps into the heightened core of improvisational tension across these seven offerings. Volcanic opener “Urn Burial” notches a similar historic union (John Cale and Terry Riley) to meet the circumstances of the moment, with swirling mists of organ and pounding toms over guitar that thickens the atmosphere with jagged, grimy dissonance.

Solemn strings open the second track, “The Redness In The West,” with Kramer’s cello and viola in dueling bow beneath the high tension drive and sustain of Thurston’s electric guitar, tapping out a Morse code of tension that mounts endlessly into a fog of inevitable war by the end. Moore and Kramer’s sense of experimentalism is in free and full grandeur throughout They Came Like Swallows, though the duo keep a strong and constant sideways eye on melody, composition and architecture, to the ends that any strict lines between song and improvisation are blurred beyond qualification.

As if to punctuate this point, Swallows closes with a nightwork cover of Joy Division’s “Insight,” a doleful coda that breathes out with a solemn inner grace under Thurston’s instantly stylistically recognizable guitar melodies as they weave into he and Kramer’s unison voices. As the lone vocal piece and only traditional ‘song’ form on the album, “Insight” is unique to this set and as a closing statement draws connective lines back to the kind of dynamic, electrified melodicism that wove deep, melancholy patterns into the untamed fire of Sonic Youth’s Sister and Daydream Nation. In the album’s final moments, the two voices repeat the lyric “I’m not afraid anymore” as mantra, underscoring the heavy, unsettled themes and methods that preceded it. Kramer describes the creative process of They Came Like Swallows: “I had composed and recorded a few pieces at my home studio over the course of a couple weeks. Thurston was spending the winter in South Florida, so I flew down and spent a few days recording his guitar parts in his home there. Watching him spontaneously compose his parts was pretty astonishing, to say the least. Once we'd finished working on those pieces, we began improvising and following wherever the music pointed us, and another few pieces were born. We got straight to it, without anything driving us other than the joy of finally working together.

My personal goal was to remain present and catch as many surprises as I could from Thurston's guitar work, and there were plenty during those few days. We had a fucking blast.” Thurston’s contributions here will be readily familiar to any acolytes of his other works, the through-line between his inspired playing, cradled in Kramer’s meticulous, solid arrangements. “If I had to make this record again, I'd do it all exactly the same way,” Kramer says. “It’s like jazz, you don't think about it. You just do it. It was miraculous, and you don't fuck with a miracle.”

They Came Like Swallows is the first album-length collaboration between Thurston Moore and Kramer (now officially Bonner Kramer), two giants of alternative/ experimental music. The accomplishments and influence of these two artists in the world of independent music cannot be overstated and the result of their artistic union is a startlingly cohesive statement that burns through landscapes of primitive outsider rock, avant-garde composition, progressive ambient and further locales boldly and beautifully unnamable. “Kramer and I reconnected in Miami, Florida, a few years back, many many years after each of us had departed NYC on separate life adventures. It was only a matter of time before Kramer and I started making plans to record together and with his irrepressible due diligence he quickly set up a mobile recording contraption in the pad I was decamped in, the Florida sunshine flowing through the palm leaves, lithe lizards skittering across the windowsills, and we just went for it.

Kramer had the idea to cover a Joy Division tune, a left turn from the improvisations we had been tracking, though wholly in keeping with both our sensibilities of light and dark unifying in transcendent songwriting, both of us devotees of 'the song' as well as 'the freedom.’ What transpired is They Came Like Swallows, a session we immediately felt should exist as a prayer to the war-torn souls of the families of Palestine continually decimated by the brutality of genocide. We agreed beyond words to offer our music as a sonic activism and as a beneficent energy. This album is our duo exchange for human dignity, it is our soul music for any semblance of a peaceful planet.” ~ Thurston Moore “For the first time in our nearly 45 years of friendship, we had identical time windows open to make a record together,” recounts Kramer. After all this time not a moment is wasted as the duo immediately taps into the heightened core of improvisational tension across these seven offerings. Volcanic opener “Urn Burial” notches a similar historic union (John Cale and Terry Riley) to meet the circumstances of the moment, with swirling mists of organ and pounding toms over guitar that thickens the atmosphere with jagged, grimy dissonance.

Solemn strings open the second track, “The Redness In The West,” with Kramer’s cello and viola in dueling bow beneath the high tension drive and sustain of Thurston’s electric guitar, tapping out a Morse code of tension that mounts endlessly into a fog of inevitable war by the end. Moore and Kramer’s sense of experimentalism is in free and full grandeur throughout They Came Like Swallows, though the duo keep a strong and constant sideways eye on melody, composition and architecture, to the ends that any strict lines between song and improvisation are blurred beyond qualification.

As if to punctuate this point, Swallows closes with a nightwork cover of Joy Division’s “Insight,” a doleful coda that breathes out with a solemn inner grace under Thurston’s instantly stylistically recognizable guitar melodies as they weave into he and Kramer’s unison voices. As the lone vocal piece and only traditional ‘song’ form on the album, “Insight” is unique to this set and as a closing statement draws connective lines back to the kind of dynamic, electrified melodicism that wove deep, melancholy patterns into the untamed fire of Sonic Youth’s Sister and Daydream Nation. In the album’s final moments, the two voices repeat the lyric “I’m not afraid anymore” as mantra, underscoring the heavy, unsettled themes and methods that preceded it. Kramer describes the creative process of They Came Like Swallows: “I had composed and recorded a few pieces at my home studio over the course of a couple weeks. Thurston was spending the winter in South Florida, so I flew down and spent a few days recording his guitar parts in his home there. Watching him spontaneously compose his parts was pretty astonishing, to say the least. Once we'd finished working on those pieces, we began improvising and following wherever the music pointed us, and another few pieces were born. We got straight to it, without anything driving us other than the joy of finally working together.

My personal goal was to remain present and catch as many surprises as I could from Thurston's guitar work, and there were plenty during those few days. We had a fucking blast.” Thurston’s contributions here will be readily familiar to any acolytes of his other works, the through-line between his inspired playing, cradled in Kramer’s meticulous, solid arrangements. “If I had to make this record again, I'd do it all exactly the same way,” Kramer says. “It’s like jazz, you don't think about it. You just do it. It was miraculous, and you don't fuck with a miracle.”