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For Metro Beirut’s latest release, Cem Mo steps forward with his debut vinyl EP, a record that bridges the roots of Chicago and Detroit house with his own deep and textured approach to groove.

Born in Ankara and having taken piano lessons at an early age, Cem drifted from classical into jazz, re-teaching himself harmony and improvisation before finding his way into production. After moving to Amsterdam in 2016, the city’s community and music scene expanded his horizon, shaping a sound that treats producing like improvising, with curiosity for grain, color, and repetition, where subtle shifts make all the difference. Along the way, Cem has released on Handy Records and Rhythm Section, while his project Nowhere People has appeared on Artisjok Records.

This EP brings together a tight circle of artists who deepen its character. Saxophonist Moritz Schuster, known for his work across electronic music and past work with Cem and Malik Kassim, formerly known as Retromigration, delivers a striking, free-flowing performance charged with raw intensity. On “The Hard Way”, Franco Corica joins Cem for a deep, soulful, jazz-leaning moment that feels both reflective and quietly defiant. Finally, longtime friend Malik pulls up with a dancefloor remix that preserves Cem’s melodic sensibility while adding his own loose, resulting in a circular dialogue between two artists who’ve grown side by side.

Artwork: Shahd Issa

The irreversible Monsieur Van Pratt is back with more edit magic on a new 12" that offers up a sharp transatlantic pairing aimed squarely at late-night selectors. He begins with 'What You Got', which is all tight groove science and polished uplift, before 'Disco Woman' retools a rare source into driving, peak-time tackle laden with soul. On the flip, Rob Castillo brings Afro-leaning firepower as 'Zig Zag Eoh' rides hypnotic percussion and loose funk swagger, while 'Good Time Woman' signs off with an irresistible strut. Potent weaponry as ever from this always naughty but nice label.

Born in Madrid and now entrenched deep in Boston's underground, Ketzaal operates at the darker more, textural end of the techno spectrum. He shows off that signature again here with a tightly wound four-tracker. Opener 'Placed Upon Thee' lands with great tension, all driving stabs and forward thrust, while 'Final Ritual' dips into a rolling, bass-heavy stride that loosens the grip without losing pace. On the flip, 'The Throne' locks into a head-down groove before 'In Bloom' stretches into something more elusive and shapeshifting. Purposeful construction and a clear sense of function don't mean there isn't plenty of character in these dance floor bombs.

There is a particular kind of strangeness that arrives on long drives across Europe. Flat light, service stations and fields stretching endlessly past the window. It might look mundane at first glance, but becomes faintly surreal when the tiredness of touring blurs the edges of everything.

That feeling became the quiet engine behind Driving Through Belgium, the debut solo album from Anton Pearson, best known as one of the guitarists in respected post-punk outfit Squid. The title grew from a track that felt like the record’s centrepiece, which itself came from the recurring image of extensive periods on the road across the continent. It is a record shaped in the margins of touring, and finessed in the in-between hours.

Across six pieces, Pearson leans into atmosphere, texture and space. It is ambient in spirit, adjacent to contemporary classical in feeling, but composed less with notes in mind than with sound itself. The compositions rarely began with harmony or melody, with Pearson instead responding to his environment and sounds in real time, placing trust in his instinct.

Although initial inspiration came from the road, the album was recorded in a studio he shares in Brighton, and marks his first fully solo project made in that setting. It gave him access to not only new tools and techniques, but a hitherto un-experienced freedom. Much of the process began experimentally, feeding instruments into unfamiliar chains, pitching loops into unexpected registers and playing with previously unused synthesizers simply to see what they might reveal. Many of the sounds were created out of pure curiosity, wanting to understand a piece of equipment or technology, and then following wherever it led.

The album was built with this experimentation at its core, as Pearson would layer then extract, processing stacks of sound until things blur and confuse. Guitars dissolve into drones, a Pianet Clavinet dances against muddier textures whilst a Korg PS-1000 occasionally cuts through with its glittering top end. On ‘Driving Past the Muscular Cows in Belgium’, a flat, still drone is pushed through valve amps until it growls and tightens with tension, before receding again. Even the trumpet, which Pearson freely admits he is not technically proficient at, is embraced in its naivety, its squeaks left intact rather than corrected. The twin ‘Tintinnabulation’ pieces frame the record with looping, pitched bell like tones, accidental discoveries that became structural anchors. Meanwhile, ‘Teeth to Cut the Grass’ deliberately introduces abrasion, some of the harshest textures on the record, a refusal to become passive background music.


That embrace of imperfection is central. In contrast to the hyper-analytical precision of his band, Pearson was keen to honour first takes. If something felt good, it would stay. The end result is an album that favours looseness, instinct and the energy of creation itself. If Squid thrives on propulsion and tension, Anton Pearson finds his energy in suspension on Driving Through Belgium. It is curious rather than declarative, creating a space where experimentation feels playful again.

Some records are collections of tracks. Others are fragments of a life. I AM A CULT HERO is not a debut. It is a return to origin. Before Skylax Records. Before Los Angeles. Before the architecture of house music became clear. There was Sarcelles. Concrete towers. Invisible youth. Yet a coded multicultural energy where funk, soul, early hip-hop and primitive electronics coexisted before categories existed. Sarcelles was not Compton, but spiritually it was the same frontier.

95200 is not just a postcode. It is the birthplace of Hardrock Striker. 368 was the bus to the train station — the crossing line between isolation and possibility. Each journey toward Paris felt like entering another system. Those nights required discipline. Instinct. Strategy. Music was not distraction. It was structure.

Years later, Los Angeles revealed the hidden architecture behind those early intuitions. House music was not a genre but a living mechanism — built on vinyl culture, extended mixes, dubplates and repetition as language. That system had already been shaped and transmitted by pioneers such as Ron Hardy, Larry Levan, Frankie Knuckles, Electrifying Mojo, Hot Mix 5, Mark Kamins and Ron Murphy. Hardrock Striker did not imitate that language. He internalized it. The tracks on I AM A CULT HERO operate as transmissions.

Gospel For Dancers (95200 Mix / Dub) is vertical — ritual energy, lift and controlled expansion. Dance here is elevation. Erotic Loop (368 Mix / Dub) is horizontal — hypnotic repetition, circular bass motion and gradual immersion. Repetition becomes destination.

95200 and 368 are coordinates. Origin and transit. Memory and motion. Anchor and crossing.

From Sarcelles to Paris to Los Angeles to Skylax & now, back to the source.

This record closes the circle. Hardrock Striker has transformed origin into signal. Signal into structure. Structure into permanence.

A cult hero is not declared. A cult hero is revealed. Vinyl is the only truth.

"All the tracks on this release come from a live concert at Sharmanka, a beautiful and unique museum of kinetic sculptures in Glasgow, and throughout the record, the sounds of the sculptures moving and emitting noises are incorporated into the music performed. The four pieces presented are entirely improvised. There was no discussion beforehand of what instruments or what approach would be taken, and each piece evolved as a musical negotiation as the performers individually made choices about what instruments to play and how to support and meet each other within the unfolding musical narrative. While Macdonald and Ferlaino both share a lifetime of work with their chosen primary instrument, the saxophone, they also share a passion for exploring other instruments and objects for their sonic and socio-creative potential. This record foregrounds both these aspects of their work: they use saxophones, but also incorporate bells, toys, bagpipes, accordions, percussion instruments and voice.
"Raymond MacDonald is a saxophonist and composer with an extensive career in music, cross-disciplinary arts and academia. He has played on and released over 100 albums, toured and broadcast worldwide and has composed music for film, television, theatre, radio and art installations. He is a founding member of the Glasgow Improvisers Orchestra, and his work is informed by a view of improvisation as a social, collaborative, and uniquely creative process that provides opportunities to develop new ways of engaging musically.
"Christian Ferlaino is an Italian saxophonist, bagpipe player, improviser, composer and ethnomusicologist. He composes for ensembles of improvisers, both from the jazz and improvised music scene, as well as for contemporary music ensembles. His work explores the relationships between composition and improvisation, and the expressive potential of improvised music. His musical research also focuses on creatively engaging with the sonic and musical realm of Calabria, with special attention to its performing techniques and approach to sound and music generation."

Extinction Burst! is the new invocation in album-form by Guttersnipe, Leeds’ premier and pre-eminent XFCER (XFCER: Xenofeminist crisis-energy rock)* duo. Slamming at full speed to multi-dimensional oblivion, Extinction Burst! is the most full, hidefinition lurid dream-mare yet spewed out by Uroceras Gigas & Tipula Confusa. Engineered and mixed by Ross Halden at Hohm Studio in Bradford and mastered by Rashad Becker, Extinction Burst! follows 2018’s My Mother The Vent, which garnered universal critical adoration. Nevertheless, this long-awaited follow up is more extreme: it is wildness beyond reason, splitting new tears in the reality gauze, ultimate hallucination through sound ecstasy. 2026’s Guttersnipe are evolved, mutated by 8 years of touring together and with the labyrinthine network of groups both Guttersnipe members are involved with - Tristwch Y Fenywod, Nape Neck, Petronn Sphene, Yexxen to name a few. On Extinction Burst!, as with previous material, the duo are heavily augmented with technology. Tipula Confusa's drum kit triggers chasm-causing synth pulses with thumping low end attack.. Strafing from all over the stereo field the constant shatter of the cymbals and toms feel like Sunny Murray or Rashied Ali in full flight during a John Coltrane session in 1967. Uroceras Gigas’s guitar + synth storm is by-now similarly an instantly recognised tool kit in underground music. Switching from screeching guitar atonality to intricate riffs from the black metal/Voivod hinterland to ultra-distorted synth meltdown, it’s an utterly overwhelming, essential and vital pouring-out of the full emotional spectrum. Both artists vocalise, ecstatic and primal, drawn out or yelped in pain or pleasure or panic. Alive On Tuesday begins with some of the only space on Extinction Burst! Digital crackles and tight-delays blow out into a fullthrottled death-dive into sweet opaqueness, offset by the duo’s vocals. There’s a popular believe that Guttersnipe is chaos, but over 9 mins here the group are clinical in their control of the simulated entropy. Mincing while the Maelstrom Churns’s guitar is modulated into jagged atonal atonement, duetting with the virtuoso drum patterns before it thuds into gear at quadruple the speed. Threads Of Radical Unaliveness veers close to the extreme Metal influences with blast beats and guttural vocalisations until the track exhausts itself into unaliveness. Keep Honking summons a demonic digital panic, with the duo reincarnating in real time as haunted versions of themselves, almost translating the lurid, ultra vivid, simultaneous hell+heaven of being alive in this dimension. Primordial Invagination harnesses No Wave’s dissension of normality before the structured collapse of Skra¨ckblandad Fo¨rtjusning, in which Tipula Confusa’s accelerating drums simulate a bouncing barrel of brimstone descending into a primordial gunky ooze, a respite in the middle before the record splutters to a stuttering finale, both members’ vocals out there in the neon realness, alive with crisis energy. There is nothing on this cursed earth like Guttersnipe. For over 10 years they have whirled in a wiggliness both woebegone and wonderstruck on a mission of radical mutant exaltation using rock music weaponry loaded with a queer hysterical ammunition to rupture the fabric of the known Rock universe and unleash a tendril-soft hallucinatory violence; thrumming with the bracing vividness of insect bodies, crazed with alien synaesthetic emotions, harnessing jagged excoriating illogic as a face meltingly snazzy affront to redundant macho mediocrity with the hope to break minds, squeeze hearts, explode pelvises and maybe even reset the parameters of reality. Addendum: xenofeminist : proposing and creating a world defined not only by sexual/gender equality, queer empowerment and the toppling of the racist heteropatriarchal hegemony and it’s tyranny of phallogocentric signifiers, but a philosophy of radical queerness that explodes the basic notion of embodied existence itself beyond even the human, where we see bacteria, invertebrates, reptiles, marine life, animalia in general, inanimate objects, quantum phenomena and as yet inarticulated bodies and minds as social and political equals that may inspire and inform our concepts of self, feeling and meaning as we labour to build a collective reality that doesn’t completely suck!! crisis energy : a term borrowed from the weird fiction author china mieville to describe a type of extreme concentration of power which emerges when a system or organism is pushed to it’s absolute limit; the point of rupture, chaos, entropic overload, just before it all breaks apart. rock : Rock ’n’ Roll, rock music, the devil’s music, sex, guitar, drums, voice, rhythm, riffs!

CQ Wrestling are today announcing their sophomore album Resistance for release on 29th May.
There’s a saying that simmers beneath the sonic assault of Resistance, the new album from CQ Wrestling. “Nothing changes if nothing changes,” recites Jake Mac, who knew of this idiom before 2024; before the loss that turned his and bandmate Charlie Woods’ worlds upside down; before the “year of complete mayhem, mess and chaos” that followed. From the outside looking in, the Brighton-based duo may have seemed on the top of the world. Then known as Chappaqua Wrestling, the exhilarating energy of their debut album Plus Ultra had seen the band lauded as future British music scene conquerors. The pair had a major label record deal to their name. Sweat dripped from the walls at headline show after headline show, in front of rapturous fans – and yet something felt amiss.
“We were selling out tours and people were loving the music, but honestly, we just felt f****** lost,” says Woods. Then tragedy struck. “It completely derailed us,” says Mac, recalling how the sudden death of his father – “a big part of the project” since its inception – sank them both into a period of grief and introspection. Amid the mourning emerged a desire to transform.
RESISTANCE is an album forged in the embers of personal tragedy and hammered into shape by desire, resilience and resolve. Detailing a metamorphosis, new single ‘Pacifico’ draws a line in the sand for the band as they recover from a time of tremendous upheaval to find themselves following their own creative compass, with renewed vitality.
"This album is a collection of songs above all about trying to find joy and hope in dark times”.

2023 Backstock

New album of one of the biggest Reggae/Dub french soundsystem starring MacGyver, Rooty Step & Pupajim (who worked with Alpha Steppa, Biga Ranx, High Tone, Mungo's Hi-Fi ...).

Since their inception at start of the 2000s, Stand High Patrol have rocked sound systems to their own riddim, assimilating and re-purposing the codes of the genre in their own unique style. From tiny bars in Brittany to huge festival stages, on independent radio or across national airwaves, the crew have quietly trod their own path, never compromising their core value of independence. Connoisseurs have long recognised Stand High’s credentials both as a dub group and a leading sound system, but they stand out from the crowd because of their ability to deliver the unexpected, whether live or on record. Their ability to draw such a diverse audience is testament to this atypical approach to making music.

In 2020, almost 20 years since their humble beginnings, the collective presents their fifth album, “Our Own Way”. As with their first two albums “Midnight Walkers” and “Matter Of Scale”, now considered as classics in their genre, this new opus asserts itself as the latest representation of the crew’s versatile approach to crafting sound. Their music, a blend of its own known as “Dubadub”, has always borrowed influences from multiple sources, and over the course of their career their roots in dub and reggae have intertwined with hip-hop, jazz, new wave, trip-hop and numerous other genres. The ‘Dubadub Musketeers’ have never ceased experimenting, forever seeking to increase the sonic territory they cover, day after day. Both live and recorded, they’ve made it a point of honour to never offer up the same thing twice. Any resemblance that “Our Own Way” might bear to those first two albums is a consequence of this obvious creative continuity, rather than of going “back to basics”.

In contrast to the last two Stand High Patrol records, the hip-hop inspired “The Shift”, or the Bristol indebted “Summer On Mars”, “Our Own Way” doesn’t have a unifying concept or theme. Rather than being limited to a single aesthetic, the LP pays respect to the entire canon of Jamaican music, all unified under Stand High’s inimitable production values. With the wealth of experience gained during the recording of their last two records, the collective decided to aim for a freer project, letting themselves be guided by their own music and their own instincts. The end result is a musical portrait of what Stand High Patrol is in the present moment.

The tracks that make up the new LP burst out of the studio, each born out of unbridled, impulsive creativity. Previously unheard compositions and specially re-tooled dub plates have been assembled into a tracklist that shifts and moves like a classic Dubadub Musketeer live set. Each step of the process has been refined by years of practice : composition, effects, and the final mix. Throughout “On Our Way”, the brutal dub stepper, though still a favourite for sound system sessions, is noticeable by its absence. Instead, it’s the full weight of the crew’s reggae heritage that’s expressed in the mix. It's not just the depth and weight of each tune that strikes the listener, but also the spaces heard between the notes that grab and hold their attention.. The sense of a trip, whether musical, internal or geographic, is omnipresent throughout the LP, linking each track to those before and after. “Our Own Way” finds Stand High Patrol exploring as usual, yet also narrating their journey as they’ve rarely done before.

Chins For Lefty is the debut album and first recording by Gichard, a new duo chronicling the absurdities of end-stage capitalism and mouldering social rituals from their vantage point in Glasgow, Scotland. Recorded primarily in the band’s home studio straight to tape, Chins For Lefty combines gorgeous, ramshackle melody, DIY kosmische punk, drum machine + synth and, in vocalist/lyricist Lisa Jones, an absurdist commentator on the human condition as it navigates the anxieties of the modern world. Instrumentalist Chas Lalli’s swirling music accompaniment stitches an evocative mix of musical styles, the ragged wind beneath the lyrics’ wings.

Although the duo first collaborated in their previous group Dragged Up, their disparate musical and artistic backgrounds make for an alluring mix in Gichard. Lalli has spent the last 20 years in the Glasgow underground, most notably in the noise rock group VOM, while Lisa Jones’s practice was in poetry and spoken word. Beginning as co vocalist in her previous band, in Gichard her lyrics are centre stage; the vision concocted alongside Lalli amounts to a total world-build.

Chins For Lefty scans almost like a novel, with each track elucidating a skewed universe that bears only some resemblance to the one you and I partake in. Like all works of fiction Gichard’s songs are rooted in reality and the lived experiences of its authors, but here characters are exaggerated, social mores and habits are pulled apart to reveal their inherent alienness. Universal emotions are laid bare, the bright light of anxious examination searching out every hairline fracture in our relationships. Distorted and cracked, the mirror that Gichard hold up to our world is also pretty damn funny.

Opener Cholesterol Test launches an expansive, cosmic guitar and synth intro that belies the Tascam-tape recorder it was recorded onto, like a Chromatics cut substituting anxiety for overt sexuality. Here Jones intones an apology to a non-responsive recipient, in the medium of a long voice note forensically deconstructing an interaction from the night before. Over punk guitars and shuffling, lo-fi drum machine splutters, the narrator in Asking The Apes “prefers things to people” before being taken hostage in the city zoo to confess an obsession which consumes the protagonist, ending with the immortal two liner “I sleep in a cocoon of old newspapers at the end of your street / And I think I have been fired from my job,” On album standout Posthumous Hologram, the narrator is faced with a human simulacra, in this case an undead pop star; the face of the encroaching technological singularity. Yes, it does requests, it can do My Way in 200 different language options. But what are the implications? While you’re left pondering, the alternating deadpan verse delivery and undeniably catchy chorus keep you company.

By the time Break Up With Johnny Dogbirth rattles into view, the band are satirising a suburban inanity blown up to cartoon proportions, soundtracked with a drawled musicality that recalls Rowland S. Howard’s post-Birthday Party balladeering. This approach is furthered on Human Resources: over an angular guitar+bass track, Jones’s short story recalls Dry Cleaning’s erudite lyrical post punk. On Soft Face, Lalli’s guitar and drum machine are swathed in echo and delay, as Jones dissects dating rituals with a west of Scotland drollness. Hamming It Up brings a porcine perspective in a short story that begins with the line “I was breastfeeding discreetly in the service station. She didn’t mind.” What follows is a passage punctured with canned laughter and a narrative involving tribute acts, modern farming techniques.

Brilliant first single Your Private Hell closes the album, the closest the group get to earnest perhaps, filtered through a surreal central Scottishness. While Your Private Hell might seem like a sardonic take down of romance, perhaps it’s the very distillation of love in all its awkwardness, selflessness and weirdness. Here there’s a distinctive Glasgow-ness to this doomed romance: the protagonist falls for an outsider, offers them cheap jarred hot dogs and carbolic soap (the infamous, excoriating soap dished out in schools and government buildings throughout Scotland), offers to cover up a murder, stalks them in the all-night Spar. It’s a short story of intrigue, murder and the irresistible pull of self-sacrifice to share in someone else’s suffering. If that’s not love, what is it? You can see this vision mapped out in black and white on their video for 'Your Private Hell'.

Take Me, I’m Yours is the first collaboration album between Alan Abrahams and Jan Jelinek. Released through the latter’s faitiche, it builds upon multi-layered vocal sketches by the former. The Paris-based artist, primarily known for his work as Portable and Bodycode, supplied Jelinek with multi-layered song sketches that the German artist subjected to a rigorous process of manipulation, excavating the ambiguities of the original material and transforming its rhythms into subtle pulses. Take Me, I’m Yours is neither a typical Abrahams record nor a classic Jelinek album—it is something third, mediating between the physicality of the voice and the abstraction of electronic sound design.

The two had crossed paths before really getting to know each other after Abrahams invited Jelinek to play at one of his Süd Electronic parties. The idea of a collaboration emerged slowly. “It started as an experiment, and over the past few years grew from a few tracks into this album,” says Abrahams. He describes recording the basic material as a “tantalizing” process, not knowing how Jelinek would transform his material, some of which was based on wordless chanting, while other tracks were working with lyrical content. However, their mutual trust allowed Jelinek to remove the harmonies, radically reduce the rhythms, and concentrate on Abrahams’ voice.

Jelinek heard something “fragile” in this voice, “moments of doubt and dark premonitions.” He points to Forever as an example. “Alan’s original song reminded me of classic vocal house, but his voice seemed to almost break,” he says. “This contradiction made the piece even bigger, because we hear a singer in the moment of an awakening.” He further accentuated such tensions through arrhythmic synth modulations and time-stretching algorithms, while also adding concrete sounds from a variety of sources. With its dedication to both transforming and amplifying the emotional qualities hidden within Abrahams’ pieces, Take Me, I’m Yours functions as a dialogue between those two singular artists.

New Stand High Patrol album, featuring Joe Yorke, Nazamba, Jah Thomas - and remixes from Mad Professor, Androo & Jeanville.


Dub and House Music. Two aesthetics born in the shadows, shaped far from the mainstream music industry. Two underground cultures where independence is often a necessity and ingenuity is essential. Two scenes rooted in the margins of society, with dance, sound systems and minorities at their heart.
From the Jamaican sound system sessions of the late sixties, through the nights at Chicago's Warehouse, to the murmurings of the New York house scene in the early eighties — history shows that house, reggae and dub share far more than many people may assume. Collective action, resistance as a driving force, music moving straight from studio to turntable, shared messages: these are the threads that bind these landmark musical movements together. It is at this crossroads, driven by the spirit of experimentation that defines them, that the members of Stand High Patrol found yet another territory worth mapping.
"Skanking & Jacking", the new Musketeerz album, reveals a side of the Dubadub sound never heard on record before. Built for the dancers and for DJs, the LP brings together the pulse of house music and the vibrant groove of reggae. Uncharted territory, never interfaced like this before. The result of a meticulous blending of styles, house, reggae and dub intertwine across 12 extended tracks. The sound is carefully crafted. Built on immersive loops and interlaced with micro-variations that give it an organic texture. Born from the interaction between being and machine. This is not about simply bringing worlds closer together; it's about mobilising influences to chart a new sonic galaxy.


Beyond it's aesthetic statement, "Skanking & Jacking" also stands out for its international cast. The most extensive Stand High Patrol have ever assembled on an album. From England, Italy, Switzerland and Jamaica, the guest vocalists, producers and MCs deepen the sense of dialogue between cultures and styles. At the mic, Joe Yorke, Marina P, Nazamba and Jah Thomas join the Dubadub Musketeerz on their explorations. Each appearance subtly reshaping the contours of the project.
Never fixed, always in motion, "Skanking & Jacking" pays tribute to the traditions that shaped it and closes, as a final nod, with remixes from Jeanville, Androo and the legendary Mad Professor. The album stands as further proof of a crew that shows no signs of stopping its reinvention. Available on stream, digital and double LP on May 29th.

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.

Ten years ago, Adolph Robert Thornton Jr. planted his flag. Released on February 19, 2016, King of Memphis wasn't just a debut studio album; it was a bold declaration of independence and a flawless blueprint for self-made success. To celebrate a decade of this foundational Southern rap masterpiece, Paper Route Empire is honoring Young Dolph’s legacy with a series of exclusive, limited-edition 10th Anniversary vinyl variants.

Before King of Memphis, Dolph had already built a massive underground following through a relentless run of mixtapes. But this official debut elevated him from a local hero to a national powerhouse.

By bypassing the major label system and releasing the project entirely through his own Paper Route Empire (PRE), Dolph proved that undeniable talent, relentless hustle, and business savvy were all you needed to take the crown. The album peaked in the Top 50 of the Billboard 200, an incredible feat for a fiercely independent artist at the time, and cemented his status as a CEO who called his own shots.

King of Memphis is all killer, no filler. Over 11 tracks, Dolph's signature slow-flow delivery and larger-than-life charisma glide over heavy-hitting, trap-defining production from a legendary lineup of producers, including Mike WiLL Made-It, Zaytoven, TM88, and Cassius Jay.

With zero guest features, the project relies entirely on Dolph’s magnetic presence. From the motivational hustler's anthem "Get Paid" to the menacing confidence of "Let Me See It" and "Royalty," the album plays like a victory lap for a self-made king.

BLUE & WHITE COLOUR IN COLOUR VINYL

In the culinary arts, it’s easy to overcomplicate the final product. Theme, presentation, texture…they’re important but should work to complement the raison d'etre of any food. At the end of cooking a dish, it should taste good and feed people. Some dishes, like barbeque or provoleta, resist the tendency towards hollow showmanship. One of their expressions can be more or less aesthetic, but the first purpose is to be simple and tasteful. Argentinian provoleta goes so far as to blur the line between ingredient and dish. It relies on the inherent flavor of provolone being heated at the right speed for the perfect amount of time. You can add garlic or chives or red pepper to the slice, but ultimately they serve to bring out an essence that’s already there.

Los Angeles’ Cousin Feo has developed his rapping acumen in the five years since releasing Provoleta, but returning to the project today shows that he always had the penmanship, grit and delivery that christens an emcee worthy of remembrance. Like the bubbles rising up in the appetizer that is the album’s namesake, Feo showed that true profundity is found in the simple gestures.

Since dropping the project in 2019, Cousin Feo has expanded his vision of a world where hip-hop and football, two proletarian art forms, mingle in creative and compelling ways. He has collaborated across multiple continents, chronicled football histories, aided in canonizing legends, kept the flames high in age-old rivalries and constantly forced his audience to search for the last time they heard bars this hard. In anyone else’s hands it would be too great a task.

The maturity he showed on Provoleta wasn’t nascent, it was an inherent quality forcing itself to the surface. The songs refract his experience as a working class Angeleno through the archetypes of Argentinian football legends. The kernel that unites the two worlds is hustle. When Feo was coming up, missteps had greater consequences than crashing out in the group stage and street deals had the weight of a Boca-River Plate match.

Each track uses slightly different ingredients to let Feo’s underlying talent shine. “Maradona” feels salvific, fitting for a football legend canonized from the Andes to the Alps and a Los Angeles rapper looking to inspire similar hope in the neighborhoods that raised him. On “Di Stefano” Feo massages the instrumental with the same composure of the late forward, until he pierces through the headphones like one of Di Stefano’s arrows. It’s also refreshing to hear a song celebrating Messi before his meme-ification, focusing on the universal truths contained in his footballing talent instead of using number 10 as a stand-in to make a point in a fruitless argument. And he still finds space to show deference to Batistuta, Kempes and other members of the Argentinian pantheon who’ve been erased from the popular imagination by the national team's contemporary success.

Real ones know that true players, true rappers, and true artists will always stand the attacks of time and consensus. In Provoleta’s first verse, Cousin Feo says he moves with the hand of God. Maybe one day he’ll tell the whole truth and let us know how he was able to wrestle the pen away too. Limited edition of 300 hand-numbered copies.

Transamericas reissues Atom™’s Kraftwerk-goes-chachachá classic

After 25 years out of print, El Baile Alemán — the cult album by Señor Coconut (one of Atom™’s many aliases) — returns on vinyl via Transamericas. What began as a half-joke (“The only way I’d cover Kraftwerk is as chachachá or death metal…”) became a fever-born epiphany: Kraftwerk’s electronic minimalism recast through a tropical imagination — where chachachá, mambo, and cumbia intertwine with glitch, breakbeats, and distressed samples.

Long before reggaeton and trap filled stadiums and playlists, Señor Coconut was already mapping the fault lines between Latin rhythm and electronic form.
Originally released in Japan in 2000, El Baile Alemán caught the ear of Kraftwerk’s Florian Schneider, who unexpectedly championed the project. This reissue has been cut from Atom™’s 2022 remasters, preserving the album’s detail for a new generation of listeners. In the second half of 2026,

Transamericas will also reissue El Gran Baile (1997), his first outing — a rawer but equally idiosyncratic fusion of what Atom™ was going to frame as electrolatino.

“Released on Joe Boyd’s Hannibal label here was a band rooted in Thompson/Swarbrick Fairport but also a snatch of the Velvet Underground and a sprig of The Byrds. The Eighteenth Day Of May evoked a legendary era, and now they are a justifiably legendary band too.” – KLOF Mag

Beginning life as a trio in London, 2003, the original line-up consisted of Allison Brice (vocals, flute), Richard Olson (acoustic guitar) and Ben Phillipson (guitar, mandolin) before expanding the following year to include the rhythm section of Mark Nicholas (bass) and Karl Sabino (drums, autoharp) and finally Alison Cotton (viola).
This being the mid zeros, the independent music scene in the UK was reluctant to embrace a sun-dazed folk band but this, their sole album, has gradually feathered a bed of affection amongst international folk fans. Twenty years on, the album is now rightfully seen as a trailblazer for the myriad alternative/psych folk bands that emerged in its wake.
Andy Childs who signed the band originally takes up the story. “I first heard their music on a cover mounted CD with the much missed Comes With A Smile magazine and as far as I could tell no-one was making music like this anymore, certainly not with such panache and confidence. To my jaded ears it all sounded so uninhibited - old weird folk songs, Americana, original psych-folk, minimalist drones. Great melodies and all six of them could sing! A joyous, unfettered sound that could in one moment conjure up flashes of The Byrds and then effortlessly the spirit of Velvet Underground would drift through. They even covered a Spacemen 3 song. I loved the fact that they had the aplomb to tackle traditional folk songs like Lady Margaret and Flowers In The Forest and not be afraid to stamp their own identity on them.
Signing them to the Hannibal label was straightforward. If anything the album somehow sounds fresh and undated, even better than it did in the day when perhaps eclecticism was out of synch with the times; its subtleties have become more apparent.”
“Their rendition of Lady Margaret builds to a headswirling crescendo that challenges anyone who claims Shirley Collins, Buffy Sainte-Marie or Trees have recorded the definitive version and the hallucinatory The Waterman’s Song To His Daughter raises an already brilliant album to an unholy level” - IT’S PSYCHEDELIC, BABY Magazine

Philip Glass, the great American composer, was already in his mid-30s before his first album appeared, and then only because he produced the double LP himself. Music With Changing Parts was the inaugural release on his own Chatham Square imprint in 1971.

At this point, Einstein on the Beach, Glass' first opera, was still five years away. Yet in Changing Parts, one can already hear much of his vocabulary in full bloom: the buoyant arpeggios, the melding of electronic and acoustic instruments, the elongated drones of human voice, the primary emphasis on pulse (an interest he shared with fellow composer Steve Reich) and the ecstatic potential inherent in repetition.

The album features the original Philip Glass Ensemble – the composer himself, along with Jon Gibson, Dickie Landry, Art Murphy, Steve Chambers and Robert Prado – playing Farfisa organs and woodwinds as well as Barbara Benary on electric violin.

As Glass describes in his memoir Words Without Music, he secured a $500 interest-free loan for the recordings' initial release from the Hebrew Free Loan Society – an organization intended to help immigrants from the Old World upon arrival in the US. Though Glass was merely the grandson of immigrants, the venture wasn't far off the society's charter as Changing Parts helped usher in a new world of sound that would become known as Minimalism.

Chatham Square went on to release albums by other composers in Glass' circle, including Gibson and Landry. The label was named after the Manhattan intersection where Landry had a studio and the ensemble rehearsed.

Born in Baltimore in 1937, Glass first moved to New York to attend Juilliard at just nineteen, having already graduated from the University of Chicago. A staple of the Downtown scene, he can perhaps be appreciated as akin to the likes of sculptor Richard Serra or filmmaker Jim Jarmusch: mavericks who became major cultural figures entirely on their own terms.

This first-time vinyl reissue reproduces the original side-breaks and gatefold sleeve.

Welcome to the modern 'Spaghetti Western' revolution. Never before pressed to vinyl, Sydney-based indie band The Slims will release both their EP's on a special double EP vinyl record release. Off the back of touring with Jet, The Slims are looking to release their debut LP Nov 2026.

A sprawling, meditative journey into inner and outer space, the new double album from Ivan The Tolerable sees Oli Heffernan retreat fully into the solo realm - crafting an expansive sonic world that feels both intimate and cosmic in scope. Recorded entirely alone and released via Riot Season, this latest work drifts away from structured forms and toward something more fluid, exploratory, and transcendent.
Drawing on the devotional atmospheres of early ambient pioneers and the hypnotic pulse of kosmische music, the album unfolds as a series of slowly shifting soundscapes—analog synths breathing in long, patient waves, tape loops dissolving into shimmering drones, and melodies that seem to emerge from nowhere before gently receding again. There are echoes of ritual, of vast landscapes, of time stretching and folding in on itself.
Across its two discs, Heffernan embraces a deeply immersive approach—less concerned with destination than with the act of drifting itself. It’s music that invites stillness and surrender, equally suited to deep listening or quiet disconnection from the noise of the everyday.
Unbound by genre yet rooted in a rich lineage of experimental sound, this is Ivan The Tolerable at his most introspective and transportive - a double album that doesn’t just ask for your attention, but your presence.