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Pete Lambrou, the visionary composer and multi-instrumentalist behind VLMV (pronounced "Alma"), is one of the most singular voices emerging from the ambient, post-rock, and experimental scenes in the UK. With a career that spans atmospheric solo work, film and television scoring, and evocative live performance, Lambrou has carved out a distinctive sonic universe he describes as "ambient-ish post-something" (Pete Lambrou) a playful yet accurate summation of a sound that is at once genre-fluid and deeply immersive. The album takes its title from Sara Teasdale's 1918 poem and Ray Bradbury's later short story, both of which imagine a world continuing quietly after humanity's disappearance. This idea became the gravitational centre around which the record formed. Written during a period of deep engagement with climate fiction and ecological thought, `There Will Come Soft Rains` reflects on humanity's legacy, its technological ambition, and its uneasy relationship with the natural world. A century on from Teasdale's poem, the balance of power feels less certain, and Lambrou's music inhabits that tension with remarkable subtlety. "The initial ideas stem mostly from chaos, randomness or sound exploration and then get shaped as I go. Typically, and certainly for this album. It's evolved since album 1, which was more song / chord based. It's a fun process of finding the sound and then working out whether it's speaking to me - or merely just a cool noise. That's fun, but it sometimes can't evolve or progress, so then begins the long journey of shaping it into some sort of song format - which doesn't have to be a-typica,l but whatever feels right to me. The subject matter and overall theme is important too - it's got to all make sense within itself. There's no point having a slowly creeping theme and then rush the music." (Pete Lambrou) VLMV embody an emotional honesty that works with patience and nuance. Whether you're encountering his music for the first time or returning to its quiet depths, VLMV offers an aural space that resonates long after the final note fades. Lambrou's singular sonic language sits at the intersection of ambient, post-rock, modern classical, and experimental electronic music, while remaining unmistakably human at its core. "Instrumentally it's far more synth based - as soon as I had the concept, I wanted to make sure technology clash and marry with traditional instruments (at different times) in a sort of slow-moving dance I suppose. One is nature, one is human development and technology. Sometimes working together and sometimes in opposition. On my previous albums I'd say that at least half of the tracks started life as songs, whereas with `There Will Come Soft Rains` I think the majority (if not all) started as experiments in sound." (Pete Lambrou) Sonically, the album is VLMV at its most cinematic and textural. Warm, intimate piano figures and elegiac string arrangements are set against unstable modular synthesis, fractured rhythms, and evolving sound design. The organic and the artificial are locked in a slow, shifting dialogue, mirroring the album's central themes. At times the music feels tender and nostalgic, at others unpredictable and mournful, yet it never tips into despair. Instead, a quiet resilience runs throughout the record. "The album is slightly unusual in that it was mixed in Dolby Atmos before being mixed down to stereo. Most, if not all, do it the other way round. That's because I got to work with a superb mix engineer who just happens to live opposite. It was extremely random and lucky, moving to a tiny hamlet in the South of England and there being a Dolby Atmos studio opposite with a genius of an engineer. We had in mind that we would do it this way round and enjoy the mix process and give everything its own space - it still had issues when folding down to stereo, but overall a more pleasurable mix!" (Pete Lambrou) There Will Come Soft Rains has a geological sense of time: themes creep, expand, erode, and reform, resisting conventional structures in favour of something more patient and immersive. Each sound exists because it needs to; they move, recede, and emerge with a three-dimensional clarity that enhances the music's cinematic quality, giving each element room to breathe while maintaining an enveloping sense of cohesion. Lambrou's unique voice is Intimate and fragile, his vocals hover above the instrumentation, a guiding thread through the expansive soundscapes, drawing listeners closer into the emotional core of each piece. "Long time vocal collaborator Anja Madhvani did lots of harmonies on the album - I wanted to include her voice as much as possible on this album. In terms of string players - 3/4 have been long term collaborators with me. Marie Schreer actually recorded all strings on my first album ALMA, and Fraser & Clodagh have worked on every album (and occasional live shows) since Stranded Not Lost. In terms of art - Joel Cammarata designed the cover, and accompanying art - he designed Sing With Abandon and I absolutely adore his work, but also - he's so great at understanding and developing and capturing the concept." (Pete Lambrou) Layered harmonies drift through the music like distant signals or half-remembered voices. Madhvani's presence adds a human fragility to the album's vast soundscapes, reinforcing the sense of memory and longing that runs beneath the surface. The strings, performed by a close circle of trusted collaborators, further ground the record in warmth and physicality, acting as a counterweight to the synthetic elements that threaten to unravel it. "Despite the heavy subject matter, I wanted to create an album that imparts hope and optimism, marrying traditional instrumentation as nostalgia, with technological innovation through the randomness of modular synths." (Pete Lambrou) The partnership with Pelagic Records feels both organic and significant. Known for championing artists who value emotional weight, sonic ambition, and artistic integrity, the label provides a natural home for VLMV's work. Lambrou's music shares Pelagic's ethos: immersive, patient, and unafraid of scale whether intimate or vast. With There Will Come Soft Rains, Pete Lambrou has crafted a work that feels timely without being didactic, expansive without being overwhelming. It stands as a quiet, but powerful statement that lingers long after the final notes fade. FOR FANS OF Sigur Ros * Olafur Arnalds * Radiohead * Keaton Henson * This Will Destroy You

Pete Lambrou, the visionary composer and multi-instrumentalist behind VLMV (pronounced "Alma"), is one of the most singular voices emerging from the ambient, post-rock, and experimental scenes in the UK. With a career that spans atmospheric solo work, film and television scoring, and evocative live performance, Lambrou has carved out a distinctive sonic universe he describes as "ambient-ish post-something" (Pete Lambrou) a playful yet accurate summation of a sound that is at once genre-fluid and deeply immersive. The album takes its title from Sara Teasdale's 1918 poem and Ray Bradbury's later short story, both of which imagine a world continuing quietly after humanity's disappearance. This idea became the gravitational centre around which the record formed. Written during a period of deep engagement with climate fiction and ecological thought, `There Will Come Soft Rains` reflects on humanity's legacy, its technological ambition, and its uneasy relationship with the natural world. A century on from Teasdale's poem, the balance of power feels less certain, and Lambrou's music inhabits that tension with remarkable subtlety. "The initial ideas stem mostly from chaos, randomness or sound exploration and then get shaped as I go. Typically, and certainly for this album. It's evolved since album 1, which was more song / chord based. It's a fun process of finding the sound and then working out whether it's speaking to me - or merely just a cool noise. That's fun, but it sometimes can't evolve or progress, so then begins the long journey of shaping it into some sort of song format - which doesn't have to be a-typica,l but whatever feels right to me. The subject matter and overall theme is important too - it's got to all make sense within itself. There's no point having a slowly creeping theme and then rush the music." (Pete Lambrou) VLMV embody an emotional honesty that works with patience and nuance. Whether you're encountering his music for the first time or returning to its quiet depths, VLMV offers an aural space that resonates long after the final note fades. Lambrou's singular sonic language sits at the intersection of ambient, post-rock, modern classical, and experimental electronic music, while remaining unmistakably human at its core. "Instrumentally it's far more synth based - as soon as I had the concept, I wanted to make sure technology clash and marry with traditional instruments (at different times) in a sort of slow-moving dance I suppose. One is nature, one is human development and technology. Sometimes working together and sometimes in opposition. On my previous albums I'd say that at least half of the tracks started life as songs, whereas with `There Will Come Soft Rains` I think the majority (if not all) started as experiments in sound." (Pete Lambrou) Sonically, the album is VLMV at its most cinematic and textural. Warm, intimate piano figures and elegiac string arrangements are set against unstable modular synthesis, fractured rhythms, and evolving sound design. The organic and the artificial are locked in a slow, shifting dialogue, mirroring the album's central themes. At times the music feels tender and nostalgic, at others unpredictable and mournful, yet it never tips into despair. Instead, a quiet resilience runs throughout the record. "The album is slightly unusual in that it was mixed in Dolby Atmos before being mixed down to stereo. Most, if not all, do it the other way round. That's because I got to work with a superb mix engineer who just happens to live opposite. It was extremely random and lucky, moving to a tiny hamlet in the South of England and there being a Dolby Atmos studio opposite with a genius of an engineer. We had in mind that we would do it this way round and enjoy the mix process and give everything its own space - it still had issues when folding down to stereo, but overall a more pleasurable mix!" (Pete Lambrou) There Will Come Soft Rains has a geological sense of time: themes creep, expand, erode, and reform, resisting conventional structures in favour of something more patient and immersive. Each sound exists because it needs to; they move, recede, and emerge with a three-dimensional clarity that enhances the music's cinematic quality, giving each element room to breathe while maintaining an enveloping sense of cohesion. Lambrou's unique voice is Intimate and fragile, his vocals hover above the instrumentation, a guiding thread through the expansive soundscapes, drawing listeners closer into the emotional core of each piece. "Long time vocal collaborator Anja Madhvani did lots of harmonies on the album - I wanted to include her voice as much as possible on this album. In terms of string players - 3/4 have been long term collaborators with me. Marie Schreer actually recorded all strings on my first album ALMA, and Fraser & Clodagh have worked on every album (and occasional live shows) since Stranded Not Lost. In terms of art - Joel Cammarata designed the cover, and accompanying art - he designed Sing With Abandon and I absolutely adore his work, but also - he's so great at understanding and developing and capturing the concept." (Pete Lambrou) Layered harmonies drift through the music like distant signals or half-remembered voices. Madhvani's presence adds a human fragility to the album's vast soundscapes, reinforcing the sense of memory and longing that runs beneath the surface. The strings, performed by a close circle of trusted collaborators, further ground the record in warmth and physicality, acting as a counterweight to the synthetic elements that threaten to unravel it. "Despite the heavy subject matter, I wanted to create an album that imparts hope and optimism, marrying traditional instrumentation as nostalgia, with technological innovation through the randomness of modular synths." (Pete Lambrou) The partnership with Pelagic Records feels both organic and significant. Known for championing artists who value emotional weight, sonic ambition, and artistic integrity, the label provides a natural home for VLMV's work. Lambrou's music shares Pelagic's ethos: immersive, patient, and unafraid of scale whether intimate or vast. With There Will Come Soft Rains, Pete Lambrou has crafted a work that feels timely without being didactic, expansive without being overwhelming. It stands as a quiet, but powerful statement that lingers long after the final notes fade. FOR FANS OF Sigur Ros * Olafur Arnalds * Radiohead * Keaton Henson * This Will Destroy You

A new EP by Extrawelt is always something special, as they continually manage to reinvent themselves while remaining unmistakably true to their sound. The a-side „Moonster“ of their latest record forms a subtle and almost magical bridge to early musical influences such as Immortal Coil, Chris & Cosey, The Cure, and Throbbing Gristle.
In doing so, they reclaim, or rather reintroduce, a powerful, mystical element into their music, one that is integrated so naturally it feels as if it has always been an essential part of Extrawelt’s sonic DNA. Beyond that, the track unfolds through numerous facets, constantly shifting and evolving. Just when you think it is settling into a familiar direction, small variations emerge, keeping the piece remarkably alive and unpredictable.
You can clearly sense how much fun Extrawelt had working on this track. It is bursting with ideas, energy, and vitality, radiating a playful confidence that makes it endlessly engaging.

The b1 track „Bettermaker“ takes a different route, dedicating itself entirely to a single mood. Through subtle pitch bending and a carefully shaped tonal palette, the track unfolds with a slightly eerie, enchanted atmosphere.
From beginning to end, „Bettermaker“ remains focused and unwavering. There are no breaks or dramatic shifts in direction, instead, the piece commits fully to its initial setting. A monolithic, almost mantra like motif forms the core, creating a distinctive ambience, mystical, shadowy and faintly oriental in character.
This atmosphere is carried and reinforced by percussive, ethno inspired drums, which add an organic, ritualistic pulse. The result is a hypnotic soundscape that draws its strength from consistency and depth rather than contrast, inviting the listener into a secluded, otherworldly space.

The final piece of the EP „Popcorn Forever“ reveals another side of Extrawelt’s thinking. The track unfolds like a curious experiment in motion. Instead of building toward a predictable climax, sounds are gradually tossed into an ever running loop fragments, textures and small rhythmic ideas appearing almost casually, as if the piece were assembling itself in real time.
At first the elements seem loosely connected, sometimes abstract, sometimes slightly mischievous in the way they twist and bend. It almost feels like an impossible construction task. But Extrawelt’s experience quietly guides the process. Bit by bit the scattered parts begin to communicate with each other.
Repetition becomes the hidden engine. With every return of the loop new details slip into the structure, and what once appeared random slowly starts forming relationships inside the listener’s mind. The track never forces a clear explanation, yet the brain begins to tie the loose ends together almost automatically.
Popcorn Forever therefore works beautifully as a kind of transit piece within the EP. It moves between ideas, linking moods rather than closing them off. In typical Extrawelt fashion, the result is playful, slightly surreal and full of subtle discoveries that reveal themselves over time.

With Dispersion, Loom & Thread return to the volatile architecture of the expanded piano trio - and quietly fracture it from within.

Daniel Klein (drums), Tobias Fröhlich (double bass) and Tom Schneider (keys, sampler) remain the sole agents on stage and in the final recording. The triangle holds. And yet, the field has expanded. For their second studio album, the trio fed their improvisations with the timbral signatures of guest saxophone and vibraphone players - not just as additional voices to be featured, but also as material to be absorbed, atomized and redistributed. The result is not augmentation but thorough refraction.

Where the debut album explored the recursive labyrinth of Schneider's live sampling of his own piano, Dispersion introduces an external grain into the feedback system. Breath and metal. Reed turbulence and struck resonance. The trio sampled extended improvisations by saxophone and vibes players: Victor Fox, Asger Nissen, Volker Heuken, and L&T's own Daniel Klein; dissected their attacks, overtones and decay curves, and integrated these fragments into the trio's internal circuitry. What emerges is a play of presences without bodies - instrumental ghosts circulating through the dense weave of rhythm and keys.

At first, one might hear the familiar relational tension: Klein's polyrhythmic elasticity interlocking with Fröhlich's tensile double bass figurations, Schneider poised at the hinge between tonal field and percussive impulse. But soon, the surface splinters - again. A vibraphone shimmer appears, yet no mallets are visible. A reed multiphonic surges through the texture, bending space between bass and drums. These events are neither quotations nor overlays; they are redistributed energies, dispersed across the trio's grammar. A digital multidimensional interplay ensues.

If the first album unfolded as a two-tiered game - live phrase and sampled reflection - Dispersion adds a further axis. The sampled materials from other improvisers are stripped of their erstwhile two-way interaction and reconstituted as malleable particles. Signifier detached from origin, resonance detached from gesture. The trio navigates a constantly shifting topology in which acoustic memory and electronic manipulation are indistinguishable.

Crucially, the album never abandons the physical urgency of three musicians reacting in real time. The additional timbral layers do not thicken the texture into opacity; rather, they introduce stark points and arrows of diffraction. Density opens into prismatic clarity. Lines splinter and regroup. What seems like a quartet or quintet collapses back into three bodies negotiating an expanded field.

Dispersion is not about addition but about distribution - of agency, of timbre, of temporal perspective. It is an album in which the trio setting becomes a site of multiplicity without surrendering its immediacy. A dissolution not only of the divide between present experience and memory, but between inside and outside, self and other.

Three musicians. Countless vectors. A music that fractures in order to cohere.

CREDITS:
Tom Schneider: piano & sampler
Tobi Fröhlich: double bass
Daniel Klein: drums & percussion

sample sources:
Victor Fox: tenor saxophone
Asger Nissen: alto saxophone
Volker Heuken: vibes
Daniel Klein: vibes

Recorded by Martin Dressler at Bauer Studios, Ludwigsburg.
Mixed & mastered by Martin Ruch.
Artwork by Viet Hoa Le.

First time reissue of JP free jazz rarity, pre-Seikatsu Kōjyō Iinkai group.

The single album self-released by the quartet Shūdan Sokai in 1977 is one of the most vital documents of mid-seventies Japanese free jazz, documenting Tokyo’s free scene at the precise moment when it began to shift to a handful of tiny venues on the western fringes of the city. In Free Jazz in Japan, Teruto Soejima identifies the extant venue Aketa no Mise in Nishi-Ogikubo as the pioneer of this decamping from the centre: a cramped basement beneath a rice shop, seating just 20 people. Musician-run, operated on a shoestring, these spaces offered a vital site for community, creativity, and a small measure of financial independence — “even though it was in a basement, in spirit it was a loft.”

Among the most active of the new venues was Alone in Hachiōji, nearly an hour from Shinjuku, in a district shaped by universities, lower rents, and a thriving counterculture. Originally opened in 1973 as a jazu kissa, Alone was unusually spacious and equipped with a stage, grand piano, and drum kit. Around 1974, Junji Mori and Yasuhiro Sakakibara began working there, booking free jazz players on weekends and establishing the venue as a crucial hub. Mori recalls early appearances by figures including Kazutoki Umezu, Toshinori Kondo, and others who would define the scene.

In early 1976, Umezu and pianist Yoriyuki Harada — recently returned from New York’s loft jazz environment, where they had played with musicians such as David Murray and William Parker — formed Shūdan Sokai with Mori and drummer Takashi Kikuchi. The name, meaning “mass evacuation,” pointed to their self-chosen exile in Hachiōji. With Alone as their home base, the quartet developed a music characterized by an infectious sense of enjoyment and a willingness to integrate free jazz with elements of song structure. Harada switched between piano and bass; the group experimented with rap-like vocal pieces, jabbering nursery rhymes over bass rhythms.

They returned to Alone on December 24 to record Sono zen’ya (Eve), releasing it on their own Des Chonboo Records, partially funded by advertisements from local businesses printed on the rear cover. The closing “Ballad for Seshiru,” dedicated to Harada’s newborn son, unfolds over a delicate piano melody that moves into emphatic chords as intertwining alto lines rise and spiral.

Alone closed in September 1977, and Shūdan Sokai soon dissolved, later morphing into the expanded Seikatsu Kōjyō Iinkai Orchestra. What remains is a recording rooted in a specific place and moment: a fiercely independent scene sustained by small rooms, close listening, and collective commitment.

DeepLabs opens 2026 with an exciting new release, “Förvandling,” from Tarik Hensen—the collaborative project of two exceptional producers, Martinou & Ben Kaczor.
This release completes a full-circle journey: rooted in Detroit techno, traveling through Malmö, and landing in Basel, where these influences converge into a singular, immersive statement.
Longtime admirer of both artists’ solo works, Luke Hess joins the project with his own interpretation of Förvandling, bringing his distinct Detroit-informed perspective to the release.
Förvandling is the Swedish word for “transformation,” describing the metamorphosis of a caterpillar into a butterfly.
The title reflects the evolution of techno itself—how it shifts and reshapes across cities, communities, and eras while retaining its core spirit.
Varp refers to the vertical warp threads in woven fabric—essential structural lines that hold everything together.
The track mirrors this concept: hypnotic percussion and immersive ambience interlace with melodic tones, unified through Tarik’s live dub mixing approach, creating a rich, fluid tapestry of sound.
Malm translates to raw ore, the unrefined material that, when forged with alloys, becomes durable metal.
True to its name, the track channels a deep, raw warehouse energy—refined into a functional gem through harmonious stabs, textured layers, and driving momentum.
Closing the EP, Luke Hess’s remix of Förvandling draws from elements across the original works while incorporating new audio stems from the DeepLabs studio.
The result is a seamless transformation of Tarik Hensen’s aesthetic into Luke’s unmistakable Detroit sound—an adventurous, atmospheric journey crafted for extended DJ sets and immersive dancefloor moments.
Tarik Hensen and Luke Hess invite you to weave these tracks into your curated selections and allow them to transform the dancefloor in unexpected ways.

Bristol's Tara Clerkin Trio return to World of Echo and the EP format for a five song collection of quixotic, emotional redolence. But do not mistake their absence for inertia. If their musical output has been a little sparse during those in-between years, limited to a few solo ventures and an astonishing ten minute long piece as a trio, their time has otherwise been richly spent: continuous writing and recording, extensive live performances across Europe and Japan, a cultivation of local and more far-flung artistic connections (musical and otherwise), and a monthly NTS show that, through the voice of others, speaks most obviously to their own unorthodox interests. It's the conflux of that winding activity that leads indirectly to On The Turning Ground, 26 minutes of probing, thoughtful composition that draws from no one specific source. Their inspirations might be centreless, but the trio still possess a very obvious anchor in the form of their hometown. Bristol stands as a city of multitudes, heterogenous and vibrant in such a way as to allow it to renew and remake time and again. Tara Clerkin Trio drink from that same well, duly reflecting a rich musical heritage built on fwd-facing electronic subcultures and experimental urges.

As such, On The Turning Ground finds them subject to their own subtle internal evolution, the pervasive sense that you've caught them mid-bloom, on their way to becoming but never anything but themselves. The two instrumental pieces that bookend the EP stand as a perfect case in point, displaying an increasing mastery of compositional space. Pensive and restrained, 'Brigstow' and 'Once Around' both emanate an interstitial quality that's not so much after- as in-between-hours, miniature dub-folk symphonies held together by the kind of tacit understanding that remains the preserve of only the closest of family units. If those two tracks are shaped by a sense of shifting temporality, then the three vocal-led pieces that comprise the record's core feel like a gentle ossifying of aesthetic into something approaching their own unique form of avant-pop. 'Pop' is, of course, a broadly subjective concept, but there's no avoiding the overt sparkling melodicism of songs like 'Marble Walls' and 'The Turning Ground', undeniable re-directions of that late 90s impulse to bend pop sensibilities into off-centre terrain, to render the familiar new again. This is what Tara Clerkin Trio do, gently pulling the ground from under your feet, turning you to face something you'd not quite seen before. To view the world as they do: sideways, sometimes, all of the time.

Geoglyph is the new duo project by Alohn and Khey Mysterio, a convergence of two deeply singular practices into a single subterranean signal. Their debut album arrives as the eighth reference on Organic Signs, not as a collection of tracks but as a carved artifact: six inscriptions pressed into vinyl, mapping a sonic territory where time, rhythm and texture are no longer linear, but layered like geological memory.

Through Geoglyph, Alohn and Khey Mysterio convey a message from below, or beyond. A pulse engraved from forgotten times in the basement of reality, reactivated by abyssal basses, vibrating layers and fractured textures. Exhumed from the subterranean strata where psychedelic dub, mineral techno and fractal dubstep fuse into raw energy, their music becomes a point of contact: every beat, every silence, every oscillation acting as a coordinate toward another perception. What unfolds is not simply sound design, but an invocation, rhythms as sigils, timbre as gnosis, signals that seem to arrive already charged with intention.

Across the album, Alohn’s guitar notes fall like cascades through the mix, dissolving at times into controlled feedback and crystallizing into melodic fragments that hover between tension and release. These organic gestures are interwoven with Khey Mysterio’s dense low-end architectures and rhythmic frameworks, creating a constantly shifting terrain: from weightless transmissions and ritualistic voices to moments of overwhelming propulsion where the music suddenly breaks open with tectonic force. The record moves fluidly between meditative suspension and explosive motion, never settling into a single state for long.

A strong undercurrent of what has come to be known as “druidstep” runs through the album, a term coined within the 95 Open Tabs universe to describe a form of dubstep untethered from genre convention, rooted instead in bass as ritual, in groove as invocation. Here it meets dub-techno pulse, psychedelic echoes and high-velocity 4×4 pressure, drawing subtle influence from underground bass cultures without ever becoming referential. The result is a body of work that feels both ancient and forward-leaning, cyclical rather than linear: a living geoglyph that reveals different meanings depending on how (and where) it is read.

As the final movement accelerates into its closing phase, the album releases its energy outward, with frequencies stretched toward their limits, leaving behind the trace of a completed ceremony. In this sense, Geoglyph’s debut stands as a defining moment within the Organic Signs continuum: a record that unfolds rather than explains, offering an experience to be entered, absorbed, and carried. With this release, the label continues to explore new sonic spaces, evolving and expanding while giving deeper meaning to its own essence. A message from beneath the surface, waiting for those willing to tune in.

Más de este género

Berlin Based DJ & Producer Johannes Klingebiel returns to Claptrap with “Dolce” a four-track EP served sweet, rich, and ready for peak-time indulgence.

Three original cuts and a heavyweight remix combine for a release that’s equal parts playful and potent. Consider this your sugar rush warning.

The title track, “Dolce,” is a warm and irresistible disco-house groover. Creamy acoustic drums lay the foundation while spicy xylophones and syrupy flute lines weave through the mix, striking a perfect balance between sophistication and pure dancefloor pleasure. It’s smooth, infectious, and built to move bodies.

Next up, “Follow The Line” blends shuffled house rhythms with 303 basslines and grainy vocal stabs. On paper, it’s an unlikely combination, on the floor, it locks tight. The result is hypnotic, driving, and effortlessly smooth.

On the flip, “Pink Forest” ventures into more mysterious territory. Built around an elusive, shifting time signature (one that even jazz-trained drummer Johannes struggles to explain), the track somehow feels both unpredictable and deeply groovy. It bends perception without losing momentum, a heady but danceable excursion into the unknown.

Closing the EP, Sun Damage delivers a remix of “Follow The Line” that both sharpens and distorts the original’s trajectory. Chunkier, weightier, and slightly off-kilter, this rework injects a tougher edge while maintaining the track’s hypnotic core, primed for late-night floors and heavy systems.

“Dolce” is indulgent yet refined, a release that balances musicality with movement, sweetness with punch.
Consume responsibly.

Thomas Peter debuts on Hallow Ground with »changing bodies,« an album inspired by the resonance and reaction of objects with and to sound. The Swiss composer and sound artist has worked with sounds generated with various materials, field recordings, and an array of analogue and digital synthesizers to create five ever-shifting pieces full of twists and turns in which even silence plays a significant role. Peter composed and recorded the album over the course of four years in an inherently physical process, led by both his intuition and his perception—what you hear on »changing bodies« is an artist intently listening to the material world around him.

Peter laid the foundation for »changing bodies« by making field recordings wherever he went, whether in closed rooms, cities, or rural environments, while also recording organic-sounding material with different synthesizers as well as working with objects made of wood, stone, or metal. »I viewed all these sounds as a kind of language that I was trying to understand,« he says. »I paid close attention to differences between sounds in motion, rhythmic patterns, and dense textures.« He further describes this as an inherently corporeal endeavour, quite literally becoming all ears and internalising the different sounds.

This process of concretion led to one of abstraction when Peter translated the source material and its psycho-physical reverberations into new musical structures. He applied repetition, densification, and recombination to unlock their true potential. Across its five tracks, the album sets literally unheard-of sounds into motion, creating intricate dynamics without ever overwhelming its listeners. »changing bodies« was born out of listening intently and physically.
It is recommended to listen to it in the exact same way.

A Profound Non-Event, the debut album by Sydney-based three piece Daily Toll, comprises 11 songs traversing three years of forged friendships, collaborative experimentation and a shared love of growing through words and song.

Those attuned to the ever-vibrant Australian underground may already be well familiar with Daily Toll, their consistent live presence since their inception in 2021 embroidered by a handful of (mostly) home-recorded, (mostly) digital self-releases that have steadily accumulated an appreciative following. Initially the project of self taught musician, poet & artist Kata Szász-Komlós(they/them) and Jasper Craig-Adams(he/him), and expended to a three piece with the more recent addition of friend Tom Stephens(he/him), Daily Toll represents the union of three unique creative dispositions, of relationships blooming through the push and pull of creative practice. Mapping the band’s existence through their recorded output is to bear witness to the flux of three people learning to respond to one another and gently ossify into a collective vision that at once calls to mind folk song intimacy, post-punk dynamics and the artful poeticism of an adjacent Flying Nun legacy.

If those earlier recordings reflect a band imagining themselves into being in real time, A Profound Non-Event observes a clear shift in both conviction and approach. Recorded in just three days with Alex Bennett at the purely analogue Sound Recordings studio in Castlemaine and holing up at night in the century old cottage situated beside the studio, sheltering from the late-June wind and rain within walls littered with instruments and microphones, lighting fires to stay warm. Kata describes the experience as defined by “candle light and creative camaraderie”, an idyllic account of a collection of songs that glide with an undeniably warm, easy charm, evidenced in particular in the record’s second half as the tone turns increasingly introspective, the very sound of a cold evening’s drift into night. When contrasted with the moody swirl and sing-song bounce of the opening trio of tracks, there’s clear evidence of a band not simply in the process of becoming, but committed to finding their truth in that process.
Still, if Daily Toll display a reluctance to be wholly defined, then album centerpiece ‘Killincs‘ (positioned in the middle for a reason) might just be their Rosetta Stone. A verbose rumination on unsettled feelings of isolation and longing, exploring the challenges in making peace with one's decisions amidst the uncertainty of an often harsh world and the realisation that some things remain best unresolved - “I have the keys still, but I’ve buried the path”.

The Activist returns to Sneaker Social Club with a fresh double-drop of mutant grime futurism featuring deadly flows from Tia Talks and Jammz.

Low End Activist first came through centred on link-ups with grime MCs before widening the scope of his sound with purely instrumental, conceptually-charged albums. This sure-shot double single reaffirms his affinity for outsider grime production as a vessel for deft bars from breakthrough talent and seasoned mic veterans alike.

On 'False Idols' and 'Atomic Clock' there's an emphasis on sharply angled, glitchy production that bends and warps well outside the established formula of MC-focused beats. Constantly shifting, hyper-detailed and front-loaded with walloping slabs of bass, both cuts are devastating in either vocal or instrumental form. Tia Talks pulls no punches stating her truth on the former, while Jammz muses on the endless battle against time on the latter, continuing the peerless run of avant-grime that courses through the Activist's back catalogue.

2026 Repress

A.Wild plots the course.

Goes Without Saying.

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

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

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

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

Spectral Bounce’s latest offering comes direct from Norway, courtesy of Anders Hajem — co-founder of Boring Crew Records. To date, the Oslo producer’s previous releases have been vessels for the exploration of myriad dance musics, seeing the artist fluently turn his hand to soulful house, dub techno and 2-step.

SPEC07 — the Myr EP — is a much more focused affair, finding Hajem in techno mode across 4 potent cuts typified by undulating drums and swelling echoes. Despite its emphasis on percussion, atmosphere has not been sacrificed for rhythm: vivid FX and meticulous attention to detail bring these tracks to life beyond the context of the dancefloor. This is music that can be stepped into and explored, productions that reward repeat listens.

Opening at full throttle, “Myr” is a jackin’ percussive workout, harnessing punchy drums for maximum effect. Its pulsating low-end runs in tandem with trembling synths that perpetually reflect and refract in the stereo field. Atop its rolling drums, hardgroove-inflected “Sprett” utilizes timestretched vocals, cavernous reverb and ecstatically quivering tones, elevating this 2000s-era framework to new heights. “Existence” brings things to a deeper and more hypnotic place: delays are turned up, siren calls reverberate and timbres ebb and flow. Hajem goes more chasmic still on “Concussion”, hitting the brakes for a much slower cadence and allowing space for a truly expansive listening experience. Heady and mystical, entrancing and otherworldly — listen close enough; beneath the dizzyingly shifting pulses and rattling drums you’ll hear incantations, while bass tones pulse in the depths.

SPEC07 — immerse yourself!

Credits:
Art by Susanne Janssen
Mastering & Cut by Marco Pellegrino @Analogcut
Words by Cameron Leaf

Das bisschen Totschlag’s new LP 0dB Headroom drifts through a cathartic kind of vulnerability—telling stories of losing, larking, and feeling everything all at once. Its soundscape echoes the act of remembering: manipulated samples and floating guitars bent through distorted electronics embody memory not as a fixed archive, but as something alive: tender, fractured, shifting. Moments come back in flashes—sometimes radiant, sometimes aching, always familiar, yet blurred and distorted. A beautiful mess that you can’t ever fully capture.
(FFO: Alex G, Wednesday, Maria Somerville)

2026 Repress

Melbourne’s DJ Ali is up next on Blue Hour Music with a powerful EP of fast percussive tribal groovers recorded live over multiple hardware sessions. ‘Interceptor’ kicks off the record with energising and rolling momentum laced in echoes of shamanic ritual. ‘Paradox Cell’ maintains the tension with a stripped back and pumping drum track enhanced by repeating tones and swirling winds that suddenly take over. On the flip ‘Nightwatch’ feels even more immersive, tunnelling down into hypnotic chambers where a voice guides and pulls the listener through a lucid void. ’Regeneration’ rounds up the record with an uplifting journey that begins to unfold with a series of shifting layers and hints of colour beneath a haze of euphoria.

The much-missed Vaughn Benjamin reminds us why his approach to reggae lyricism remains peerless with “Charges,” a standout track from the Polarities LP released on 7” vinyl for the first time. Arriving amidst an era of global economic shifts, the release feels forcefully timely. Genius metaphorical wordplay and wide-ranging subjects are distilled into a cohesive whole as the global economy and its entrapping neo-colonial rules come under the microscope. Produced by Zion I Kings with Tippy I at the helm, the track is anchored by the rock-solid drumming of Lloyd “Junior” Richards and the propulsive bass of David “JAH David” Goldfine. This release features a previously unheard B-side dub, giving space to the celestial synth work of the late Andrew “Drew Keys” Stoch. This series honours both the vocal and version culture of the reggae sound system and the profound lyricism of Vaughn Benjamin.

At the start of this summer, following a three-year hiatus for Daphni (punctuated only by his first ever collaborative Daphni track ‘Unidos’ alongside Sofia Kourtesis), he dropped ‘Sad Piano House’. The track represented something of a continuation in the Daphni catalogue, its roots growing from Cherry’s ‘Cloudy’ and its subsequent Kelbin remix, something in that song’s makeup having a profound effect when played on dancefloors by Snaith and countless others. ‘Sad Piano House’ deployed more intangibly irresistible bendy piano to equally satisfying effect and continues to achieve similarly rhapsodic dancefloor saturation.
Though a sizeable gap for Daphni releases, between Cherry and Butterfly however of course sits Honey, the latest Caribou album and one that saw the more instantaneous and dancefloor leaning traits of Daphni peaking through the cracks more than ever before. This blurring of the lines leads to an intriguing collaboration in Butterfly’s lead single ‘Waiting So Long (feat. Caribou)’. An unlikely duo - in that both artists are the same man, Dan Snaith - ‘Waiting So Long’ is not so much an identity crisis, ego trip, or the result of a chemical spill in the Snaith laboratory. It’s simply a track that Snaith felt for the first time belongs to both aliases, and might appeal to fans of both. He has never sung on a Daphni track before, and did not set out with the intention to do so this time, and yet this strange billing was born.

Daphni music has always been Snaith’s way of hitting directly to the core of the dancefloors he spends so much of his time playing to, and those dancefloors have been steadily expanding as his name grows, with the music following suit. This album however also draws from further back with a definite kinship to the very first Daphni album, the invigorating bag of ideas that was Jiaolong.
Butterfly is a showcase of the wonderful variety and surprising twists and turns that made that album such an exciting new prospect and that still to this day make Snaith such an intriguing DJ. There are more heavy hitters here, tracks that fill those dancefloors better than anyone, like ‘Clap Your Hands’ which picks up the energy of ‘Sad Piano House’ and flips it, exposing the gritty and intoxicating underbelly of Snaith’s hitmaking side, while retaining the playful urgency that runs through all of his work of late. Meanwhile ‘Hang’’s comic-strip horns are unpinned by gleeful force, unrelenting and thrillingly unshakeable. Elsewhere though comes a clutch of other tunes that might creep out somewhere more off the beaten path, a path Snaith has never stopped seeking in amongst his larger billings. ‘Lucky’ is squirmy and elusively intoxicating, ‘Invention’ skitters down meandering, inviting corridors, ‘Talk To Me’ grumbles and broods in the murk, and ‘Miles Smiles’ could roll on endlessly, so confident in its groove. There are no obvious peaks in these tracks or unifying moments, in fact many of them really have no business being on the dancefloor at all, and yet in the right setting, they could be the most fun to be had all night.

One such club is a good microcosm for the ethos of Butterfly as a whole. “Around the time I was finishing up this album I played a long set in a club called Open Ground in Wuppertal, Germany.” Snaith recalls, “It’s kind of, in one sense, the platonic ideal of the kind of club I’d want to play in. Every single decision has been taken, at great expense, with the aim of making the perfect sounding medium sized club room. But on top of it being the perfect acoustic environment it also is run by an amazing collection of people in a way that gives it a sense of community that dance music at its best provides. It is an absolute pleasure to play in that room to a crowd of people who come from all over. Playing in there you feel like you can play anything, and I played works in progress of pretty much every track on this album in my set there. Don’t get me wrong, I love playing a short set at a festival or in a more raw warehouse kind of club where you bang it out and only really functional music works but on record I guess the point of these Daphni records is to keep in mind a more expansive idea of dance music where the parameters are broad and the church is broad. I think that actually, putting really functional stuff next to weirder tracks (both on an album and in a dj set) might be the thing that’s still most interesting to me.”
This is the feeling that’s most palpable on Butterfly, and in every single time you see Snaith DJ. Right from the inception of the Daphni alias - and even before that – the thrill of trying stuff out, pushing at the boundaries has always been there and on Butterfly is present in all its twists and turns. It leaps all over the place and yet it hangs together, never feeling like a grab bag of dancefloor utilities but rather a distillation of all the strings to Snaith’s bow, exhilaratingly human and unified by one singular concept – simple and joyful exploration.

On Hungry Animal, Luke Temple continues to trace the invisible lines between the personal and the cosmic _ between what we feel, what we observe, and what we inherit simply by being alive. The album reunites Temple with Doug Stuart (bass) and Kosta Galanopoulos (drums), the core of his Cascading Moms ensemble, whose instinctive chemistry anchors the record's balance of rhythmic precision and melodic drift. Together they shape a sound that feels handmade and fluid, delivering sharp observations in soft focus. The album opens with "Clean Living," a tenderly libidinous groove, unraveling purity myths and self-discipline _ less a confession than a celebration of the futility of striving for perfection in a flawed world. From there, "Echo Park Donut" shifts into the memory of an unsettling vignette drawn from a violent incident outside Temple's Los Angeles home. The band moves with a quiet pulse beneath the story, suggesting both detachment and the surreal intimacy of fear. The title track, "Hungry Animal," grounds the album's broader questions: how well can we really know one another, or ourselves? Temple's lyrics circle around the idea that we are animals among animals, driven by instinct and affection alike. It's both playful and philosophical, one of the record's emotional centers. Temple's bandmates bring an understated mastery to these pieces. Stuart's melodic, infectious grooves converse fluidly with Galanopoulos's drumming, which breathes life into each song even as it gently propels them forward. The trio's interplay feels both weightless and deeply rooted _ commanding the listener's attention and empathy without ever forcing it. With Hungry Animal, Luke Temple and the Cascading Moms create a world where reflection becomes rhythm and consciousness gains texture _ a record of quiet revelations and deliberate grace.

With Spam Vol.2, KVR - Niels Broos, Dries Laheye & Lander Gyselinck - delivers its second statement.



Recorded in a beautiful studio tucked beneath a bridge in Rotterdam, the album distills a week of free improvisation into vivid, shape-shifting pieces. A beautiful chaos of bass guitars, synths stacked on clavs, drums and machines to get lost in, in between coincidence and intention. Jungle rhythms, elastic time, open structures and organic textures come together in a lively sound that feels playful as well as restless and deeply intuitive.



KVR is Niels Broos (Jameszoo, Binkbeats) on keys, Dries Laheye (STUFF., Selah Sue) on bass and Lander Gyselinck (STUFF., Lander & Adriaan, BeraadGeslagen) on drums.



For fans of Thundercat, Hudson Mohawke, The Comet Is Coming, Jameszoo, etc.

Força Maior combines the vital saxophone explorations of Pedro Alves Sousa with the infinitely subtle electronic processing of Pedro Tavares. Sousa (aka Má Estrela) is known for manipulating his woodwind through guitar pedalboards & amplifiers, creating far-from-ordinary sonics rooted in unceasing curiosity. For his part, Tavares (aka funcionário) conjoins video & sound work to create space for the pensive wanderings where memory and imagination interlace.

The album Morte Lilás was recorded over a week in June 2023 in Pedro Alves Sousa's family farm, located in the village of Ferreirim, near Lamego, in Portugal. The partly abandoned farm served as the residency, studio, and inspiration for the album: it is a 400-year-old granite farm that belonged to a member of the "40 conspirators"—a group that led the revolution for Portugal's independence from Spain in the 17th century.

Morte Lilás is a remarkable album of committed meditation. Each day on the farm was a recording day for the two Pedros: Sousa on sax & electronics, Tavares on sampler & processing. Apart from slight sonic incursions from the surrounds—the birds on 'Quinta à tarde'—and the sporadic use of sine tones, the source sounds all start from the saxophone. It is then processed both by Sousa & Tavares. The album unfolds as a saxophonic tapestry that breathes with quiet intensity. Each piece invites close listening, revealing fine gestures and tonal shifts that shape a contemplative, ambient space. Força Maior move with calm precision.

The album opens with the unhurried overture 'Quinta à Tarde' a Portuguese pun on Eno's Thursday Afternoon that announces the textures at play. Sousa's breathy entrance is paired with a soft, delicately shifting, backdrop. As the track progresses, time seems to stretch. The arrangement resists urgency, favouring subtle evolution over dramatic turns. Pensive layers shift & drift, creating a sense of suspended motion that brings the listener into the environs of Morte Lilás. 'Quinta à Tarde' is a long-form fade, shifting emphasis from Sousa to Tavares.

'Cubos' continues the gauzy feel, but with a more up-tempo tilt. Rhythmic clicks & pings setup a swung time for the sax to interpose melodic lines that are fed back & bent with cascading delays. Força Maior in distilled form.

Força Maior is in top form on the title track 'Morte Lilás', a sprawling centrepiece that showcases their command of atmosphere & emotional pacing. By turning up the reverberation & leaning into a continuous format, they dissolve the gap between hypnotic trance & articulate reverie. Then, a moment of stillness. The track pauses, not abruptly but like a tide pulling back, revealing the contours beneath. What follows is a return to the album's more relaxed architecture: understated rhythms, softened textures, and a sense of spaciousness that opens space for reflection. It is a transition that feels organic, as if the song itself needed to exhale before settling back into its contemplative groove.

'Menta' is another short-form miniature of the band's signature contours: beautiful loops of air pressure gradients that carry an emotive weight & light.

The album closes with 'Cascata do Inferno'. The title suggests violence, but the music whispers instead—an atmospheric cascade of breath & tone that emerges in slow, deliberate waves. Short melodic cycles are matched by shimmering electronic chords. It's a piece that rewards patience, draws the listener in to drift downstream, eyes closed, into the serene turbulence of its current.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

John Twells, 2025

Noctourniquet And then everything went black, at least for a while, at least for The Mars Volta. In the months and years following their fifth full-length, Octahedron, Omar kept on at his usual fearsome creative pace. In fact, he ramped up his output considerably, starting up his own Rodriguez Lopez Productions label and releasing a slew of solo albums. It was a practice he’d begun shortly after De-Loused’s release, with his solo debut A Manual Dexterity: Soundtrack Volume One, but as the decade reached its close, Omar grew to rely upon his solo recordings as an outlet for his prolific creativity, these albums often exploring musical pastures far beyond even The Mars Volta’s wide-ranging parameters. Before choosing to release music under his own name, Omar would always play it to Cedric first, to see if the frontman thought it had potential to become Mars Volta music. Shortly after Octahedron’s completion, Cedric flagged one batch of tracks Omar had cut with Deantoni Parks, a brilliant drummer and composer who’d briefly occupied the Mars Volta drumstool in-between Jon Theodore and Thomas Pridgen’s tenures, and whose volcanic creativity and unique, unpredictable approach to rhythm and composition had quickly made him one of Omar’s favourite artistic foils.

As with the music that made up Octahedron, the new tracks Cedric had optioned for The Mars Volta often veered far from the riotous, Grand Guignol visions of their earlier releases. It possessed the punchy, song-based focus of Octahedron, though this was a considerably darker, more menacing strain of pop, with synthesisers figuring heavily in the productions. Cedric took the tracks in 2009 and set about writing songs to the music. But no more new Mars Volta music would be heard until 2012. The years that passed in-between were nonetheless momentous, and busy, witnessing an unexpected reunion of the members of At The Drive-In, and Cedric joining his own side-project, Anywhere. But there wasn’t any sign of life within the Mars Volta until Omar, Cedric and their bandmates took to the road for a series of live shows in the spring of 2011, billed as The Omar Rodriguez-Lopez Group, debuting the songs that would become Noctourniquet. The album followed the next year, and it remains one of The Mars Volta’s finest, its electronic textures staking out unfamiliar but fertile new ground.

An unsettling, subtly turbulent listen, Noctourniquet found Cedric sketching out a story about “some sort of device that stops the darkness from bleeding”, drawing influence variously from the nursery rhyme Solomon Grundy, the Greek myth of Hyacinthus and the song Birth, School, Work, Death by British underground rockers The Godfathers. It was an album of dystopian futurism, signalled by the paranoid cyber-rock of opener The Whip Hand and its unnerving chorus, “That’s when I disconnect from you”. But it was also an album of inspired, unexpected moves and uncanny invention, like how Dyslexicon seemed to eerily evoke Blondie’s Rapture, before rushing headlong into its bruising chorus, tempos shifting restlessly throughout like quaking earth beneath the listener’s feet, or how Aegis put a brave new spin on The Mars Volta’s trademark rewiring of salsa’s overdriven passions, or how Cedric had never sounded as scary as he did on The Malkin Jewel’s mutant burlesque shuffle. Tracks like Molochwalker were sleek and concise in a way The Mars Volta had never really attempted before – which was all part of Omar’s plan.

“It had all been guitar, guitar, guitar, overdubs, everything fighting for space in the same frequency,” he explains. “So for Noctourniquet, it was all about subtracting elements, of sticking to how I made demos.” Deantoni’s presence helped revivify the group, playing against cliché and expectation, and taking each song in unexpected directions. “I’d beatbox a rhythm for him to play, to go with my guitar part, and he’d come back with three or four alternate options. It was so great.” Similarly, Cedric had never sung better than on Noctourniquet, staking out a fearsome spectrum from the chilling Tom Waitsian growl of The Malkin Jewel to the keening, beautiful vocalisation on Vedamalady, rising to match some of Omar’s most deft, most immediately effective and melodic songs yet. Indeed, Noctourniquet is the sound of a band discovering new ways to do familiar things, renewing their commitment to their mission, finding fresh inspiration a decade in, and shaking off any complacency that might have come with ten years of acclaim and success.

A chopped-and-screwed love letter to the sounds of rebajada – half-speed cumbia, pioneered by Sonido Dueñez in the 1990s, and born from an overheated turntable motor that didn’t make the crowd stop dancing. With Debit’s treatment, rebajada becomes an ethereal, at times intense ambient tapestry that’s also a history lesson.

Spend any amount of time pacing the streets of Monterrey, the bustling city in the north of Mexico where Delia Beatriz, aka Debit, grew up, and you’ll be sure to catch traces of cumbia echoing from Bluetooth speakers, DIY soundsystems, or car stereos. An Afro-Latin dance form and »practica cultural« originating in Colombia in the early 19th century, cumbia evolved rapidly in the early 1900s, as a localised sound played on drums and flutes quickly modernised to integrate European instrumentation like the accordion. When it reached Mexico in the 1940s, the sound shifted again, fusing with mariachi styles and integrating further vallenato folk elements. Eventually, cumbia spread across the entirety of Latin America, splintering into a spectrum of different musical styles such as chicha in Peru, and cumbia villera in Argentina. And over in Monterrey, cumbia inadvertently found its own idiosyncratic groove.

From the 1950s to the 1970s, waves of immigrants from across Mexico and Latin America headed to Monterrey to find work, making a home in Colonia Independencia. Colombian cumbia records, shipped in from Mexico City, Houston, and Miami, became the soundtrack of the neighbourhood, relaying familiar stories to a rural working class adjusting to their new industrial reality. The sound struck a chord with locals, and huge street parties hosted by ramshackle soundsystems known as sonideros unified the diverse community. So when cumbia rebajada materialised serendipitously in the 1990s, it emphasised and highlighted the memory distortions at the heart of the immigrant experience. Local record collector, selector, and sonidero Gabriel Dueñez had been playing cumbia for hours one night when disaster struck: his turntable’s motor overheated and slowed down, turning the music into a warped groan, with half-speed voices echoing over wobbly accordion drones and splashy drums. But the crowd kept dancing, and Sonido Dueñez realised he’d struck gold – cumbia rebajada was born.

Over the next few years, he dubbed a popular series of mixtapes, hawking them at the flea market on the dried-up Santa Catarina riverbed beneath El Puente del Papa, the bridge that links downtown Monterrey with Independencia. These woozy archives became the stuff of legend, poetically but subconsciously shadowing DJ Screw’s series of epochal cassettes that appeared over the border in Houston. Beatriz uses Sonido Dueñez’s first two tapes as the starting point for »Desaceleradas«, entering into a dialogue with time, culture, and geography as she recalls the sonic ecosystem that surrounded her decades ago, long before she emigrated to the USA. If 2022’s acclaimed »The Long Count« was an attempt to recover concealed pre-Columbian history in the face of colonisation, »Desaceleradas« jumps forward, figuring out how memory and shared celebration can resist a more contemporary form of cultural erasure. As AI systems scrape, blend, and decontextualise culture around us, leaving vapid slop, »Desaceleradas« proposes a slower, more careful, and ultimately more human kind of engagement. It’s an archive with a pulse.

Barry Adamsons Original-Soundtrack versetzt uns in die Unterwelt des nächtlichen Londons – ein lebhafter Soundtrack zum Underground-Kino und zur kulturellen Rebellion.



Barry Adamson, Gründungsmitglied von Magazine und Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds sowie gefeierter Solokünstler und Komponist, kehrt mit dem Soundtrack zu „SCALA!!!“ zurück, dem vielgelobten Dokumentarfilm über die Geschichte des berüchtigtsten Independent-Kinos Londons. Adamson, bekannt für seine Filmarbeiten, darunter Kooperationen mit David Lynch, bringt seine charakteristische Mischung aus Noir, Jazz, Funk und Atmosphäre in eine Filmmusik ein, die ebenso bewegend ist wie das Scala selbst.



Das Album fängt den Geist des Kinos ein: lange Nächte, klebrige Böden, schäbige Underground-Vorführungen und die berauschende Welt subversiver Kunst. In den 22 Titeln zaubert Adamson Stimmungen, die von grüblerisch und cineastisch bis verspielt und chaotisch reichen und die wilde Programmgestaltung und kulturelle Rebellion widerspiegeln, für die das Scala stand.



Der Film unter der Regie von Jane Giles und Ali Catterall erzählt die Geschichte des legendären Repertoirekinos King's Cross (1978–1993). Mit Interviews mit Mitarbeitern, Stammgästen und Ikonen wie John Waters, Mark Moore, Mary Harron, Isaac Julien und Ben Wheatley sowie seltenem Archivmaterial feiert er einen Ort, der zu einem Schmelztiegel für Gegenkultur, Sexploitation, Horror, Kung-Fu, LGBTQ+-Kino, Live-Musik und Kult-Doppelvorstellungen wurde.




Barry Adamson’s original score plunges us into the underworld of late-night London - a vivid soundtrack to underground cinema and cultural rebellion, available on vinyl and CD via Mute.



Barry Adamson, original member of Magazine and Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds, and a celebrated solo artist and composer, returns with the soundtrack to SCALA!!!, the acclaimed documentary chronicling the history of London’s most infamous independent cinema. Known for his film work, including collaborations with David Lynch, Adamson brings his trademark blend of noir, jazz, funk and atmosphere to a score that’s as evocative as the Scala itself.



The album captures the cinema’s spirit: late nights, sticky floors, sleazy underground screenings, and the intoxicating world of subversive art. Across its 22 tracks, Adamson conjures moods that shift from brooding and cinematic to playful and chaotic, echoing the wild programming and cultural rebellion the Scala embodied.



The film, directed by Jane Giles and Ali Catterall, tells the story of the legendary King’s Cross repertory cinema (1978–1993). Featuring interviews with staff, regulars and icons including John Waters, Mark Moore, Mary Harron, Isaac Julien and Ben Wheatley, alongside rare archival footage it celebrates a venue that became a crucible for counterculture, sexploitation, horror, kung-fu, LGBTQ+ cinema, live music, and cult double bills.

Swan Song

The vinyl LP at the heart of this éthiopiques 31 tracks 2 to 11 was one of the very last vinyl records ever released in Ethiopia. But above all it represents, we felt, the absolute masterpiece of the Ethiopian Groove – the Swan Song of Swinging Addis. The album leaves a clear idea for posterity of the level of sophistication and mastery that modern Ethiopian music had achieved, before being crushed under the Stalino-military heel of the Derg – as the bloody revolution that was unfolding came to be called.

Ethiopia1976.

The Revolution that broke out in February 1974 rolled on in a ruthless march. The whole of Ethiopian society was utterly stunned. The bouquets of flowers handed joyfully to the first tanks of the coup d'état were to wilt very rapidly. From September 1976 to February 1978, 18 months of Red Terror (the name given by the junta itself) spilled blood throughout the country. This fratricidal conflict took its heaviest toll among students and youth. The shift from feudalism to a cruel and primitive Stalinism left the country's citizens deeply traumatised, and snuffed out any pretence of activism, whatever the sector of society. This ice age was to last for seventeen long years.

ሙሉቀን፡መለሰ Mulukèn Mellèssè Muluqän Mälläsä

It was three tracks by Muluken that served as the opener for éthiopiques-1 more than 25 years ago. Seven more tracks appeared on éthiopiques-3 and 13, all accompanied by The Equators, which was soon to become the Dahlak Band.

The first track, Hédètch alu, also the very first piece that Muluken ever recorded, left audiences both unsettled and amazed. Reflecting the singer's extremely young age (he was just 17 at the time), this angelic voice mystified many, who thought they were in fact listening to a feminine voice. He was not yet 22 when he released his last vinyl record in 1976 with Kaifa Records (KF 39LP), one of the very last to be issued in Ethiopia, before the cassette tape became the dominant medium for music distribution – and before the new revolutionary regime put a stop to all independent musical life, via an unspeakable barrage of prohibitions and other persecutions.

Mulu qèn, literally, “A well filled day”. This tender maternal intention wasn't enough to ward off the cruelty of fate. His mother's premature death drove Muluken to leave his native Godjam, in northeast Ethiopia, to live with an uncle in Addis Ababa. Born Muluken Tamer, he took his uncle's last name – Mèllèssè.

The spelling Muluken appeared in his administrative records. Transcription of Amharic to the Latin alphabet, both in Ethiopia and for scholars, gives rise to controversies and quibbles that can never be neatly settled. French allows for a closer approximation of the original pronunciation, thanks to its battery of accent marks, confusing as they may be to anglophones.

Between rather accommodating administrative record-keepers and the various versions that pop up in interviews given by the artist, Muluken's year of birth oscillates between 1953 and 1955…

1954? One thing is certain: the artist's talent made itself known very early indeed, because he got his start in 1966-67, at the age of 13 or 14. Photos from the period attest to his extreme youth. It's a strange sort of initiation for a very young teenager to become a sensation in the heart of Addis's nightlife at the time, Woubé Bèrèha – the Wilds of Woubé. And what's more, in the club of the Queen of the Night, the Godjamé Assègèdètch Alamrèw herself, the very same that was portrayed by Sebhat Guèbrè-Egziabhér in his novel-memoir Les Nuits d’Addis Abeba2… The legendary female club owner who is remembered to this day by the capital's ageing boomers.

Muluken first tried his hand at the drums, before he grabbed the microphone. He emigrated briefly to the Zula Club, across the street from the old Addis Post Office, one of the ground-breaking bars of the burgeoning musical scene, before joining the Second Police Band in 1968, for around three years. He spent a few months with the short-lived Blue Nile Band founded by saxophonist Besrat Tammènè. As the musical scene grew increasingly successful, and pulled slowly but decisively away from its institutional ties, Muluken released his first 45rpm single in February 1972 (Amha Records AE 440). It was included in two LP Ethiopian Hit Parade compilation albums in September of the same year. All in all, Muluken released eight two-track 45s and the same number of original cassette tapes between February 1972 and 1984, the year that he departed for permanent exile in the USA. After converting to Pentecostalism in 1980, Muluken gradually abandoned all secular musical activity. In 1985, at the end of a concert in Philadelphia, he decided to quit concerts and recording for good. Mèlakè Gèbré, the historic bass player from the Walias band who was playing with him that night, recalls that everything appeared so irredeemably diabolical in Muluken's eyes, that it was to be the end of his contribution to Ethiopian Groove.

The end of the story, the beginning of a legend.

Dahlak Band, forgotten by History

Aside from his personal history and vocal talents, it must be remembered that Muluken Mèllèssè was one of the biggest names in the musical innovations that marked the end of the imperial period. These éthiopiques aim to convince those who are just discovering this hidden gem... As for Ethiopians themselves, they are to this day captivated by this singular and atypical figure in the Abyssinian pop landscape – even though he withdrew from public life some 40 years ago. Incorrigible devotees of poetic twists, of more or less hidden meanings, Ethiopians appreciate above all the care Muluken took in choosing his lyrics and the writers who penned them, such as Feqerte Haylou, Alemtsehay Wodajo and, here, Shewalul Mengistu (1944-1977). Love songs, written by women, a far cry from the conventional drivel that pleases sappy sentimentalists.

Muluken is equally acclaimed for his perfectionism when it came to music, the opposite of the overly casual approach that is all too common. He remained a faithful partner of musicians who came from a lineage that borrowed from several inventive and pioneering bands (Venus, Equators, Dahlak). Amongst them were certain artists who began their musical lives with Nersès Nalbandian at the Haile Sellassie Theatre and who come of age in around 1973 – at just the wrong time, you might say. Among them were the pillars Shimèlis Bèyènè (trumpet), Dawit Yifru (keyboards) and Tilayé Gèbrè (sax & flute). Most notably Tilayé Gèbrè, certainly one of the most important musicians, composers and arrangers of his generation, of the end of the imperial era, and of the early years of the Derg.

It was only in 1981 that a miraculous opportunity arose for Tilayé to escape the Stalinist paradise of the dictator Menguistou Haylè-Maryam. Once again it was Amha Eshèté (1946-2021) who provided a solution. The spirited and courageous producer, who had been in exile in Washington since 1975, succeeded, thanks to his incredible perseverence, in bringing the Walias Band to the USA. It was, in fact an extended Walias Band comprising ten musicians3, six of whom chose to slip away after a few concerts and the recording of an LP (The Best of Walias, WRS 100). Tilayé Gèbrè was one of these. He has been living in the USA ever since. There he joined the then-nascent Ethiopian diaspora, which lived largely unto itself, and was making only very modest headway in the American musical market. It seems unfair that Tilayé Gèbrè and the Dahlak Band were not able to benefit earlier from the public recognition that they do deserve.

A similar draining away of the top-rate talents would lead to the reorganization of the major groups of the “Derg Time”. The remaining artists spread themselves around between Ibex Band (renamed Roha Band), Ethio Star Band and a remodeled Walias Band. That spelled the end of the Dahlak Band.

With this record, produced by the essential Ali Abdella Kaifa a.k.a. Ali Tango, we can appreciate everything that the Derg not only destroyed, but also prevented from flourishing. This gem of Ethiopian-style afrobeat came out in 1976 (and, by way of a parenthesis, before the FESTAC 1977 in Lagos, which was attended by an impressive delegation of Ethiopian musicians — although Fela was already personna non grata in his own country). Despite everything that might distinguish this ethio-groove from Fela’s music – no colonial axe to grind, no question of political confrontation with the authorities, no claims to negritude or Africanism for the Ethiopian musicians, and less extrovertion! –, this LP fits beautifully into the saga of intense and electrified soul of the new “African” groove that Fela and Manu Dibango embodied so well from that point onwards.

In restoring this record to its place in the afrobeat epic, it can be seen that, if nothing else, the timeline bestows a legitimate pedigree and a historical primacy to works that had no international impact when they were originally released.

Warning! Masterpiece!

The capstone of Miles Davis’ electric period, Agharta reigns as a funk-rock fireball — a blazing comet streaked energy and elan, a fearless organism feasting on adventure and freedom, a seven-headed Godzilla stomping its way through Osaka, Japan. Recorded on February 1, 1975 at Osaka Festival Hall at the first of a two-show stand, the double album offers an endless abundance of surprises and shifts — as well as a road-proven ensemble whose chemistry and abilities equal that of any of Davis’ celebrated bands. If the true measure of jazz is the capacity to adapt to the moment and challenge perception, Agharta is consummate.

Sourced from the original master tapes, housed in a Stoughton gatefold jacket, and pressed at Fidelity Record Pressing in California, Mobile Fidelity’s numbered-edition 180g 33RPM 2LP set of this epic live release presents it in audiophile sound on a domestic pressing for the first time. Offering greater degrees of separation, detail, and richness than the compressed CD editions and more clarity, openness, and presence than older vinyl copies, this version of the 1975 release helps bring the concert stage to your home. Just make sure your turntable and speakers are up to the challenge of Davis and Co.’s explosive performances — and producing the decibels they demand.

Teeming with vibrant colors, tones, and pace, Mobile Fidelity’s reissue captures the hear-it-to-believe-it flow, sweep, and moodiness of the music. Though the group honors looseness and freedom with religious verve, the specificity and scale rendered by this remaster allows you to detect methods behind the alleged madness that are often otherwise harder to discern. This insight extends to the understated changes in volume, harmonics, and phrasings. In many ways, you can listen as Davis himself did that early February evening as he helped coordinate the overall direction and decided on whether to blow his wah-wah-wired trumpet or take a turn on the organ.

Tellingly, Agharta would likely never have been made if not for Davis’ ventures overseas and, specifically, to the Land of the Rising Sun. Having for years faced a backlash on his native soil for his choices to experiment and blow past all known borders, Davis was welcomed with open arms in Japan. The concert documented on Agharta — as well as the day’s later show, captured on the equally exciting Pangea — stemmed from a sold-out three-week tour that would ultimately mark Davis’ final public appearances for years, as he soon settled into semi-retirement and nursed the wounds connected to an unprecedented stretch of restless and relentless output.

For all the band-fueled merit of Agharta — and there’s plenty, given the cast of saxophonist Sonny Fortune, bassist Michael Henderson, drummer Al Foster, percussionist James Mtume, and guitarists Reggie Lucas and Pete Cosey seemingly blasts off to outer space and travels distant galaxies by the time this minimally edited record runs its course — Davis’ own playing often remains overlooked. As critics Richard Cook and Brian Morton observed, it is “often fantastically subtle, creating surges and ebbs in a harmonically static line, allowing him to build huge melismatic variations on a single note.” He attacks like a man on a mission, out to prove naysayers wrong and bent on trailblazing another new path forward. Convention and skeptics be damned.

Noisy and furious, dark and discordant, abstract and off-balance, radical and intense, abrasive and atmospheric, strangely beautiful and hypnotically eccentric: Agharta evades simple description, and refuses to be pinned down in any established category — rock, jazz, punk, ambient, prog, avante-garde, or otherwise. Shot through with trench-deep grooves, screaming riffs, scalding solos, and free-improv leads, its cosmic thrust comes on as the equivalent of an animated pointillist painting comprised of millions of textured dots, dashes, and dabs that hold your attention so raptly you want to revisit the ideas again and again.

Always steps ahead of everyone else, Davis knew what he was doing even when Agharta debuted in Japan before later hitting U.S. markets. Though “Maiysha” and “Theme from Jack Johnson” are identified in the track listing, the record contains a number of uncredited references to other Davis works, including a nod to “So What.” This decision to bypass labels only adds to the art of the reveal — the rare black magic in which Agharta expertly deals.

Supergroups existed before Emerson, Lake & Palmer formed in 1970. And, as we all know well, many came after. But few, if any, matched the English trio’s chemistry and its elevated combination of virtuosity, vision, and verve. Having influenced a multitude of followers, ELP’s prowess was obvious from the start. The band’s self-titled debut stands as a towering statement of creative imagination, execution, and discipline more than five decades after its original release.

Mastered at MoFi’s California studio, housed in a Stoughton jacket, and pressed at Fidelity Record Pressing, Mobile Fidelity’s numbered-edition 180g 33RPM LP of Emerson, Lake & Palmer presents the benchmark album in audiophile sound. Clear, dynamic, and balanced, this collectible edition honors the perfectionist approaches that both informed the playing and recording of the record.

Distinguished with black backgrounds, this reissue brings to light the epic scope, tonal depth, and mind-bending degrees of musicianship on display. Aspects — textures, nuances, effects, melodies, tempo changes — that go hand-in-hand with the trio’s compositions and interplay are rendered amid broad soundstages and delivered with pinpoint detail. Whether you’ve owned multiple copies of this touchstone or seeking out your first version, you’ll relish the presence, separation, imaging, and crispness that help make every song come across as if the group has set up shop in your listening space.

Opening the door to the seemingly infinite possibilities of progressive rock while steering clear of excess, Emerson, Lake & Palmer achieved a rare feat in that its complex, cerebral music didn’t prevent it from attaining mainstream success. The gold-certified effort launched the career of a band that would sell tens of millions of records. It also landed a Top 50 single in the form of the ballad “Lucky Man,” whose vocal harmonies, folksy strumming, multi-tracked instrumentation, and breakthrough Moog solo almost feel quaint in the face of the other fare on the album.

Comprised of genre-defying originals and hybrid arrangements of two classical pieces, the album Rolling Stone originally and rightly said is “best heard as a whole” matches outrageous ambition with the otherworldly skills of three musicians who remain among the finest to ever pick up their respective instruments. While Emerson soon drew the lion’s share of headlines for his ability on keys — clavinet, Moog, piano, Hammond organ, and pipe organ included — Greg Lake’s aptitude on guitar and bass, along with well as Carl Palmer’s monster talents behind the kit, created a three-headed hydra that devoured everything in front of it.

That extends to the radical reinterpretation of Bela Bartok’s “The Barbarian” that begins the LP, a performance that in less than four-and-a-half minutes runs the gamut from distorted to churchy to angular and blustery. More classical flourishes, keyboard wizardry, hard-rock heaviness, and gothic signatures emerge throughout “Knife-Edge,” which reimagines music by Leos Janacek and J.S. Bach — and ultimately invites you to explore a cathedral of sound teeming with separate bursts of keys and percussion.

And did someone say “drumming”? Check out Palmer’s monster salvo on “Tank,” a rhythmic showcase that marches out with knee-bent notes and mirror-reflected passages. Or dive into the mythological suite “The Three Fates.” Replete with three parts and Emerson playing the pipe organ at Royal Festival Hall, it shoots off sonic fireworks via sophisticated arpeggios, jazz improvisations, dancing counter-meters, sizzling chords, and a few explosions. Please don’t hold anyone at MoFi responsible if your system cannot handle it; this is heady stuff.

Indeed, everything on Emerson, Lake & Palmer is there for a purpose. Whether you aim to attempt to dissect all of the notes, shifts, and polyrhythmic bluster or just want to absorb this album as one living, breathing organism, this version invites you to do both as many times as you desire.

SPTLP007 - ASC - Vanishing Point LP

Evolving further with each release, ASC delivers his latest monumental album on Spatial, a varied and memorable journey through stunningly realised fusion of modern and classic atmospheric breakbeats.

A1 - Mystic Street

Setting a murky tone with light cymbals and synthwork flecking the intro, Mystic Street calmly purrs and growls towards a drop of analogue kicks and a sparse, menacing drum pattern to kick off this incredible album. Enveloped by a dense cloud of darkly atmospherics, the track coils with tension, each element rippling through the mix like distant memories as the suitably enigmatic bassline rumbles beneath.

A2 - Convergence

Straight into the beats with a DJ-friendly two step intro, ASC utilises sparse, sci-fi hits and persistent danceable breakbeats with a melodic bassline. As the atmosphere builds, percussive tones punctuate the swirling pads, creating a luscious sense of forward motion with echoing samples and effects combining in the mix to create a dreamlike soundscape perfect for the dancefloor and headphones alike.

B1 - Invisible Borders

No ASC album would be complete without an amen workout, and we certainly have that here as Invisible Borders rushes into view with simmering intent, melodic samples tore from battlegrounds of yesteryear providing a truly epic atmosphere, rippling breakbeat trickery teasing the listener before crushing full contact amens arrive with panache and veracity - twisted across yearning bass with an unflinching fighting spirit.

B2 - Celestial Bodies

Up next a moment of calm as we soak up the charms of the dreamlike Celestial Bodies, a soothing journey of beats, breaks and atmosphere from Spatial's label head. Melodic notes ripple across the mix with old school breaks filtering to and fro, conjuring images of a cosmic journey unfolding, where old school breakbeat rhythms pulse like distant constellations, echoes shimmering in the vast expanse of ASC's versatility.

C1 - Losing Track Of Time

Into an absolute stunner next as ASC unleashes a modern classic which has a wonderfully instant familiarity to it - like it was lifted directly from the golden era of atmospheric drum & bass. The old school breaks have a distinctive feel while a variety of pads teaming with life swirl around above. A myriad of spirited melodies develop and maintain your attention with classic 808 basslines to complete this remarkable composition.

C2 - Slipstream

Switching up the vibe in style, ASC delivers an intense, cosmic intro to Slipstream which builds gradually with whooshing effects and long female vocals before a crisp, crunchy slice of Hot Pants breakbeat heaven tears through the mix, chock-full of excitable edits portrayed in a brilliant clarity. Warm sub bass punctuates the track while a reverberating earworm melody slowly etches itself into your mind.

D1 - Paradigm Shift

A good old fashioned roller up next as Paradigm Shift sees ASC blend a superb 2-step rhythm with a sumptuous smooth bassline - guaranteed to move the dancefloor. Atmospherics take no back seat either as elegant synthwork swirls and washes across the soundscape with subtly used vocal samples adding texture and warmth to an impressively layered mix that maintains its pace right through to an echoing conclusion.

D2 - Transmitter

Sending us back to interstellar space for an inspired mission through vast unexplored star systems, Transmitter sees ASC create a stunningly evocative, ethereal collage of atmospherics with sonar-like beeps punctuating and persisting throughout. Driving the track along are the superbly programmed drums, filtered and layered with twisted, distorted vocal samples to complete this exhilarating album in pure Spatial style.

Emerging through waves of reverberation and haze, ‘Deep Star’ unfolds as a submerged odyssey through Coma World’s distinct terrain of leftfield dub and psychedelia. The duo of Maxwell Hallett (Betamax) and Pete Bennie craft a sound that moves between meditative underwater drift and sharp, rhythmic pressure.

Each piece develops like a current, where bass resonance and percussive detail create an undertow of motion that guides the record’s flow. Beneath the murk, subtle shifts in tone and momentum reveal the album’s depth: flickers of tension and release that mirror the shifting light below the surface.

‘Deep Star’ captures Coma World at a point of lucid refinement, translating improvisation into form without losing its raw edge. Immersive and alive with motion, it’s a record that invites listening as descent—sound as gravity, pulling you deeper the longer you stay.

Ston Elaióna is John Also Bennett’s first album for Shelter Press since his 2019 solo debut Erg Herbe. The American born, Athens, Greece, based flautist, synthesist, and composer weaves a strikingly singular electroacoustic excursion for bass flute and Yamaha DX7ii, largely recorded in the golden haze of the early morning hours - bending time at the otherworldly juncture of consciousness and place. Translating from Greek as “in the olive grove”, Ston Elaióna is permeated with the ambiences of the ancient and present world, guided into form by a playfully rigorous approach to sound.
Initially emerging during the mid 2000s as part of Columbus, Ohio’s noise scene, before relocating to NYC around 2010, Bennett’s diverse activities picked up an increasing sense of pace over the following decade - performing and recording as a solo artist (JAB), with the trio Forma and with CV &JAB, his prolific duo with his partner Christina Vantzou, as well as playing in Jon Gibson’s ensemble among many other multifaceted collaborations. However, since 2020 the flautist and electroacoustic composer has existed in a semi nomadic state: drifting between Brooklyn, Brussels, extensive tours, and Greece, where he finally came to rest in Athens last year.

Drawing upon a carefully honed attentiveness to the environments and experiences of everyday life, Ston Elaióna is a suite of nine pieces (with an additional track exclusive to physical formats), many of them composed and played live as the early morning sun touched the Parthenon, in full view from Bennett’s studio window in Athens. Bennett’s refinement and restraint, honed over his years adrift, led him to adopt a limited palette focused on his primary instrument, the bass flute, and a Yamaha DX7ii synthesizer tuned to just intonation scales. Alongside a handful of other keyboards, digital oscillators triggered by his flute, and occasional field recordings, this simple palette is reflected by the deeply emotive sense of minimalism that permeates the album’s two sides. Following two solo albums defined by outward facing temperaments - 2022’s Out there in the middle of nowhere (Poole Music), which used a lap steel guitar and generative oscillators to evoke the surreal landscapes of the South Dakota badlands, and the largely synthetic atmospheres of the 2024 anthology Music For Save Rooms 1 & 2 (Editions Basilic) - the shift in Bennett’s worldly circumstances offered an intuitive return to the calm, inward states of creative exploration that have historically defined JAB’s sound. In parallel, context provided clear sources of inspiration for many of the album’s themes, as well as sources for some of its sounds. The aura of Greece, from the ancient to the present, from its stones and olive groves to its traffic, figures heavily across Ston Elaióna’s two sides. John Also Bennett’s Ston Elaióna forms an elegantly rigorous world of electroacoustic sonority, bridging the expanse of time with the immediacies of environment and happening in the here and now: a profound sonic mediation on the countless dimensions unlocked by life in Greece.

New York-based producer Kurilo opens Tripsitter Records’ debut vinyl with "Take the Excitement", a hypnotic blend of rumbling bass and spacey synths. It's an immersive soundscape, perfect for both psychedelic journeys and late-night afterhours.

Next up, KVRK delivers a mind-bending techno cut—an intense, pulsating ride that feels like crossing an event horizon. Relentless and otherworldly, it transports listeners into uncharted sonic territory.

On the flip, Spain’s T.S.O channels '90s tech house with a bass-heavy roller full of nostalgic flair and modern groove. It's a confident dancefloor weapon, bridging classic vibes with a contemporary edge.

Closing the release, Jubley shifts into darker territory. With punchy percussion and eerie textures, his track oozes tension and atmosphere. A bold departure from his usual style, it’s a gripping end to a standout first release.

For his last solo record ‘Through a Room’, Bill Nace shifted his usual saturated guitar sound and added tapes, hurdy gurdy, doughnut pipe, bird calls and the mysterious Japanese taishōgoto. Setting up for the final night of his three day residency at OTO with only the taishōgoto soundchecked, Nace hoped that Parker would arrive with his small soprano as its opposite. “I’ve been interested in state change, you know, playing until there’s a shift in time.” Known for his development of multiphonics to produce a constantly shifting pattern, Evan Parker has evolved an instantly recognizable sound - his work the soprano most distinct. Happily, it was the soprano Evan brought with him and as soon as the two start to play they entwine - taking off in a double helix of keys and reed primed for endless reconfiguration. Space warps under the velocity of playing, the pitch rising unrelentingly. It felt like unending lift off in the room, sheer energy until the last note makes remember your feet have been on the floor the whole time. Total time bending shredding.

–

"They had never played together before. They had never even met each other before this springtime 2024 concert at London’s Café Oto.

Evan Parker, circular breathing maestro of the saxophone, a legend in the universe that is Free Improvisation since the late 1960s and Bill Nace, one of the most intriguing experimental “noise” guitarists of the 1990s/2000s underground scene.

For those of us who have been enamored by the live and documented work of both these gents, this Café Oto duo was a must-hear event. It could have gone anywhere musically and that would have been totally fine. Particularly with Evan having a history of being thrown into a variety of challenging collaborations throughout his career, employing the learned elegance of trust in his own sensitivity to listening, responding, leading, following, sparring, intertwining, dialoguing, creating in the instant and, essentially, dignifying the non-hierarchical grace of chance.

The aesthetics of socialist consideration in Evan Parker’s playing, in his community of expanded and personal technique, for a younger player such as Bill Nace, strikes an exemplary model. This notion of respect would be entirely the reason Nace, when offered a residency at the most critical “new music” room in England, would request to play in duo with Parker.

Bill Nace came to prominence mostly during the apex of experimental music activity in and around Western Massachusetts in the early days of the aughts, with a focus on visual art and free improvisation guitar action. He could be found in the daytime hours, his head hanging down over a notepad, penning fine-tuned illustrations and abstract line drawings, while in the evenings he’d be attending any number of basement noise gigs, many of which he’d be participating in. His guitar style came across as being informed as much as by the physicality of his writing utensils in friction to the page as it was to his hearing and redefining of radical recordings ranging anywhere from the Black Unity Group to Black Flag.

Utilizing various metal files and other small cylindrical objects Bill would allow his guitar and amplifier to be in tandem with the improvisatory movements of his body as the instrument balanced, intentionally and, at times, precariously, upon his lap. The performances came across thrilling and daring and they would be mostly in the context of venues nothing more than a low-ceilinged damp and dank New England basement, a clutch of people hanging onto rusty pipes or sitting up on dilapidated washer/dryer machines, the shards of Bill’s “file guitar” sounds ringing out like the most alive music on Earth.

By the time Bill reached Café Oto in early 2024 he had relocated to Philadelphia all the while releasing a succession of collaborative LPs on his Open Mouth label to present his developing progression of solo and collaborative work. He also would find himself considerably engaged with playing the electric taishōgoto, a keyboard-activated string instrument from Japan which can exist as a one, two, four, five, or six string oblong sound object. Bill’s approach to the taishōgoto would not be too unlike his approach to the traditional electric guitar, though no outboard implements such as files, sticks, and rocks are utilized. The similarity would lie wholly with Bill’s full immersion of high velocity action-playing where, with the taishōgoto, an electric drone beauty occurs. The flurry of sonics and resultant harmonics emanating from the amplifier (which Bill opts to dial into with borderline loud-as fuck volume settings) furthers the meta-mantra properties of the instrument in an astounding display of drone dynamism.

This sound world of Bill’s two-stringed taishōgoto on this Café Oto night worked beautifully with Evan Parker’s improvisatory saxophone conceptions. The duology achieved instant lift off at ground zero only to find it’s eventual finale as if it were organically ordained. Time seemingly morphed from its ancient human construct of control, rendered inconsequential to the torrential transcendence of the room wildly activated by the magic resonance of the multi-directional pan-spatial sonance of the music as if it were some beatific blessing. It was one of those nights where art as a liberating force of spirit gifted the listeners with an offering of exaltation and joy. It was entirely mystical and mind blowing. A night of Total Music."

Thurston Moore, London, 2025

For our ninth offering we have ventured out of our small but fertile swamp in search of another source of magick. Meandering across boggy pastures new, we crossed paths with Steevio, who sat hovering serenely in the fern covered shade of a nearby valley. Instantly recognising the singular vision of this fabled artist, we hastily gathered our nets and cast them under Steevio’s branches, capturing four beautiful offerings as they wriggled towards us. Upon the return to our mulch, it became clear that we could not contain Steevio’s creations, so willful was their vitality. It was therefore all we could do to release them back to the universal dance from whence they came.

The dance germinates with the writhing polyrhythmic ‘Apricity’. Hearing the crunch of frost laden grass beneath our webbed toes, we look above us to search for the sun. Angular beams of light escape over the horizon, as the warmth of Steevio’s machines coalesce. A glistening hi hat breaks through the membrane to bind his creation and anchor its ever shifting arms.

‘Octopus’ glides gracefully through a sun-dappled kelp forest. Sub frequencies rumble up from the shadowy darkness below, rippling along the fronds as they ascend. As the ocean begins to churn, a wriggling melodic tentacle parts the foliage, gleaming with primordial energy. Its joyful visit to the surface realm leaves us with a brief yet powerful reminder of the mystery beneath.

The glow of the midwinter sun warms our bones on ‘Apricity (Sunrise Mix)’. Percussive elements bubble out of the depths, forming intricate cascading patterns as they grow over the perfectly formed kicks. The moog filter tames the brew with Steevio’s intuitive restraint , until he releases its mighty power upon the gleeful forest dwellers, to their rapturous gratitude.

With ‘Adref’ we return home. The sedate tempo provides oceanic space for a melody which inhales and exhales over a familiar landscape of perfectly tuned percussion. With each breath the melody seems to increase its reach, until it’s buried deep within our bones, its memory resonating on long after it’s gone.

Steevio’s music reflects the universal moments where seemingly chaotic and disparate elements are suddenly revealed to be perfectly harmonious. Of course examples of this are always universally present in nature, and have been eternally, but we have to be reminded to appreciate them. In the same way that a wave deposits a perfect line of shells on a beach, dew freezes on grass, or individual strands of mycelial hyphae bind together to form incredible patterns, Steevio’s music is likewise; effortlessly considered. For us, it has more in common with the unrelenting flow of a river than it does with dance music. It is psychedelic music in the same sense that nature is intuitively psychedelic; without ever leaning into any tried tropes of what is culturally considered ‘psychedelic’ music.

Akhira Sano is a Tokyo-based artist working across sound, drawing, installation, and video. His practice finds generative potential for music in life's fleeting incidents, etching meaning from unassuming spaces and resonances. With releases on 12k, LAAPS, IIKKI, and The Trilogy Tapes, Sano has steadily carved out a distinctive voice within minimal and experimental music - one that privileges attentiveness and patience over spectacle.

"To Material Past", Sano's debut for SWIMS, carries this thread with a single 30-minute work built solely using glockenspiel tones and field recordings from his local neighbourhood. This is a night walk with no map or end point; Sano follows irregular, coiling fragments that extend to form a tessellating luminous whole - like a subliminal mass of tree roots quietly shifting the concrete slabs beneath our feet.

Under this faded gauze of gestures and interactions, Sano's glockenspiel interjects like a grandfather clock, softly marking the partitions that make up a day's collected experience; clicking and chiming like the sleeping brain, as it sifts and catalogues a lifetime's ephemera of thoughts, faces and puzzles.

Denmarks leading outlet for fresh, forward forward-thinking jazz, April Records, proudly presents the debut release from award award-winning Danish vibraphonist Viktoria Sondergaard. With wide ranging influences from jazz, chamber music, cabaret, pop, rap and SukumaSukuma-inspired grooves, as well as the hymns and melodies of the Danish Hojskolesangbog traditional/folk songbook, the music is grounded in collective expression and responsibility. The album s bold, boundary boundary-pushing sound was built on a strong sense of musical community, as well as Sondergaard s desire to integrate spoken word and lyrics into her practice to convey her thoughts and feelings on the world around her on a deeper, more personal level. Composing with her four collaborators in mind, Viktoria imagined her quintet playing each note as she composed, making the music inseparable from their presence. The album integrates spoken word, rap, singing, screaming, and whispering - a shared sonic tapestry that expresses joy, wonder, questioning and celebration. It s a band built on inspiration, joy, dreams and love, Viktoria says. For me, one of the most beautiful things in art is that we have a platform to say something about the society and world around us. This album is an attempt to do just this. this." Balancing warmth and intimacy with tension and exploration, the music weaves rich instrumental textures and spacious soundscapes with intricate vocal arrangements - intertwining voices that move between comforting folk folk-like harmonies and angular, avant avant-garde expression. The quartet s deep listening and intuitive interplay are evident throughout, shifting fluidly from open, exploratory passages to tightly locked grooves. The result is a sound that feels both grounded and searching: a sonic conversation inviting the listener into a space of vulnerability, curiosity, and connection. With a sparkling tone, emotive improvisation and refined control over her instrument Viktoria is recognised as a fearless explorer and bold musical voice. A recipient of the Aarhus Jazz Talent Prize, Tivoli Jazz Prize and the 2025 Carl Prize Honorary Award presented by Marilyn Mazur, she balances adventurous writing and collective invention with melodic immediacy and emotional power.

Belgian pop superstar Max Colombie, aka Oscar and the Wolf, announces new
album ‘The Shimmr’, on PIAS Recordings.
Enter Colombie’s world and you’ll discover a uniquely dazzling and shimmering
fusion of contemporary R&B and a more European electro-pop sensibility, uniting
shivery melody, shifting beats and vocals steeped in drama, sensuality and yearning.
Colombie hears, “a twilight zone where it doesn’t sound dark nor happy. It’s like the
name Oscar and the Wolf; it’s a balance between light and dark, this perfect
combination between the sun and the moon. It’s beautiful and scary at the same
time.”
Oscar and the Wolf’s official debut, the 2012 EP ‘Summer Skin’, showed his gifts
arrived virtually fully formed, but he truly came of age in 2014 with his debut album
‘Entity’. Balanced between dancefloor anthems and slow jams, ‘Entity’ went 4 times
Platinum in his native Belgium and quickly jettisoned Colombie to superstar status.
He sold out arenas in Belgium and the Netherlands, taking the penultimate
headlining slot (behind Muse) at 2016’s Lowlands festival before headlining
Belgium’s Pukkelpop festival, sharing the bill with Rihanna and LCD Soundsystem.
Released in 2017, the second Oscar and the Wolf album, ‘Infinity’, went Platinum at
home, whilst amassing a huge Middle Eastern fanbase across Turkey (where his
2018 tour sold out in minutes), Egypt, Israel and Iran. On stage, Colombie cut a
commanding and lithe performer, often garbed in shimmering outfits that interacted
with the dynamic lighting.
The new Oscar and the Wolf album, ‘The Shimmer’, distils the essence of Colombie’s
sound and vision in its title and the image of Colombie on the album cover, bathed in
starry light. The album is a benchmark of his transformation on record; whereas
‘Entity’ was recorded in a barn, “very lo-fi with no access to gear,” he recalls.
‘The Shimmer’’s bold, rich and layered dynamics were captured at ICP Studios in
Brussels, home to, “one of the best live rooms in Europe, with all this vintage gear.”
More intimate moments were added at Colombie’s house outside the city, “those
magic takes we made just after we’d written something, which are so hard to capture
again.”
By ‘we’, Colombie includes producer Jeroen De Pessemier and multi-instrumentalist
Ozan Bozdag, who had both worked on ‘Infinity’ (and Bozdag on ‘Entity’ too). “It’s a
magical trio,” Colombie says. “Everyone is allowed to be themselves, and to explore
themselves. I’m really happy with ‘The Shimmer’ because I hear a more mature
version of myself. I always want things to grow, and I’m proud that I allowed myself to
not follow people’s expectations and reproduce what had been successful before.
There are no four-to-the-floor clubby pop songs this time.”
Instead, ‘The Shimmer’ more accurately reflects Colombie’s personality. “My
emotions run from super-happy to super-melancholic in a split second,” he says. “To
me, ‘The Shimmer’ feels like the soundtrack to a blockbuster, with many types of
tracks and themes. It’s always changing."

Tensal is the solo project of Héctor Sandoval, also known as half of Exium and Komatssu. Since its creation in 2014,
Tensal has become the channel for his most personal vision of Techno, blending diverse rhythms and textures with a
powerful and distinctive identity. Alongside his own imprint Tensal Ltd, he has released on some of the scene’s most influential labels, including Mord, Modularz, Perc Trax, Blueprint, Arcing Seas, PoleGroup, Float, Kynant, KR3, A.R.T.S,
Warm Up and Soma, where he delivered his first LP in 2018.

He has remixed artists such as Slam, Electric Indigo, Anthony Linell, Mike Parker, Shed, Pangaea and Shifted, while his
tracks are championed by leading DJs like Jeff Mills, Richie Hawtin, Marcel Dettmann, Ben Klock, Ellen Allien, Laurent Garnier and DVS1. His DJ sets, built largely from his own productions, have taken him to more than 60 countries
worldwide, with performances at iconic clubs and festivals including Berghain, Tresor, Awakenings and Fabrik.

Beyond Tensal, Sandoval explores different frontiers of electronic music: with Juan Rico (Reeko) he formed Komando Terrorismo Sonico (K.T.S.), releasing the album Insurrección in 2021; in 2022 he launched Syndromania on Oaks
Records, a vinyl-only project fusing Techno with Trance, EBM, Electro and Acid. In 2023 he joined BPitch Control,
releasing several EPs and performing at the label’s We Are Not Alone events, while in late 2024 he debuted on Blueprint
Records with Highland Landscapes, a collaboration with Vince Watson (Amorphic), followed by a joint EP on Mord in
2025.

Clear Vinyl. Mit ihrem Debüt The Empty Space Between A Seamount And Shock Headed Julia hinterließen The Black Cat's Eye 2023 ein bemerkenswertes Echo in der Szene - ein energetisches und atmosphärisches Werk, das Psychedelic- und Postrock-Elemente auf einzigartige Weise vereinte und schnell vergriffen war. Nun, zweieinhalb Jahre später, präsentiert das Frankfurter Quintett sein neues Album Decrypting Dreams Of Weird Animals And Strange Objects. Auch diesmal lotet die Band die Grenzbereiche zwischen Psychedelic-, Kraut- und Post-Rock aus. Die Musik oszilliert zwischen hypnotischem Drive, verträumten Gitarrenflächen und dynamischen Spannungsbögen. Das Album umfasst sechs Songs, deren Spannweite von fünf- bis zehnminütigen Klangreisen reicht. Neu ist, dass diesmal zwei Bandmitglieder Kompositionen beisteuerten: Neben Gitarrist und Bandgründer Christian Blaser stammt die Hälfte des Materials von Bassist Jens Cappel. Sein kraftvoller, direkter Stil ergänzt Blasers atmosphärischen Ansatz ideal. Blaser: ,Auf dem Debütalbum stammten alle Stücke von mir. Als Gründer der Band lag mein Fokus zunächst darauf, eine musikalische Vision und Richtung vorzugeben. Jens war zu diesem Zeitpunkt noch nicht so in die kreativen Prozesse eingebunden, obwohl er ein außerordentlich talentierter und umtriebiger Musiker ist. Er veröffentlicht regelmäßig großartige neue Musik auf den Bandcamp-Seiten seiner eigenen Projekte, zum Beispiel The Black Black Paint. Als es dann an das Schreiben neuer Songs für das zweite Album ging, brachte Jens einige wirklich tolle Demos mit ein." Stilistisch verbindet das Album, wie schon der Vorgänger, klassische 70er-Einflüsse mit zeitgenössischer Rockmusik - man hört Anklänge an Can, Motorpsycho, Neu!, Indie- und Stonerrock, aber auch an David Gilmours Gitarrenästhetik. Die Musik ist instrumental, einzig im finalen Stück ,The Magic Balloon" übernimmt Jens Cappel den Gesang. Ähnlich rätselhaft wie bei der ersten Platte klingt der Albumtitel: Decrypting Dreams Of Weird Animals And Strange Objects. Blaser erklärt: ,Der Titel ist inspiriert von einem faszinierenden Aspekt der US-amerikanischen TV-Serie Westworld. Dort werden humanoiden Robotern Gefühle und Träume einprogrammiert. Doch weil diese Androiden dadurch immer menschlicher werden, geraten sie außer Kontrolle - die Programmierer suchen daraufhin den Fehler in den von ihnen geschriebenen Quellcodes, analysieren die künstlichen Gefühle, Gedanken und Träume mithilfe ihrer Computerprogramme. Übertragen auf unsere Realität ist der Titel durchaus ironisch gemeint. Unsere moderne Technik vermittelt den Eindruck, wir könnten jeden Bereich unseres Lebens vollständig steuern. Selbstoptimierung und die Kapitalisierung des eigenen Ichs werden zum obersten Prinzip. Eine trügerische Illusion, denn wir sind nur winzige Teile eines größeren, für uns unergründlichen Ganzen. Vor diesem Hintergrund stellt sich die Frage: Was kann Kunst zu unserer Wahrnehmung der Welt beitragen? Welche Bedeutung hat es, sich mit musikalischen Mitteln auszudrücken? Durch Technik, Mathematik, Physik und reine Vernunft kommen wir dem Wunder des Lebens und dem Sinn unserer Existenz nicht wirklich näher. Was uns bleibt, ist das Ritual, die Beschwörung, die Ekstase. Musik, Tanz, Malerei, Geschichten - sie offenbaren für kurze Momente den wahren Kern des Lebens, richten unser Verhältnis dazu neu aus und verbinden uns mit dem Universum." Aufgenommen hat die Band wieder im Tonstudio Bieber in Offenbach am Main. Oli Rüger, Studiobetreiber und selbst Musiker, hat langjährige Erfahrung mit dem Aufnehmen von Gitarrenbands. Innerhalb von drei Tagen spielte die Band die Basic Tracks live ein, anschließend ergänzten sie diese durch Overdubs. Rüger war auch als Co-Produzent beteiligt. Cappel: ,Oli hat das richtige Händchen für die perfekte Balance zwischen rohen, heftigen und filigranen Sounds, ohne gleichzeitig den Blick für das große Ganze zu verlieren." Das Werk wurde final von Krautrock-Legende Eroc gemastert - eine passende Wahl für eine Band, die sich nicht nur als Erben der 70er sieht, sondern diese Tradition aktiv in die Gegenwart weiterdenkt. Das monochrome Cover-Artwork unterstreicht eindrucksvoll die dunkle Atmosphäre der Musik. Es verdeutlicht den konzeptionellen Ansatz der Band, Musik nicht nur als Klang, sondern als Raum, Konzept und visionäre Erzählform zu begreifen. Das Titelbild - eine scheinbar endlose Spirale, Symbol für DNA-Strukturen und Ewigkeit - wurde vom italienischen Grafiker Daniele Stochino entworfen. Die Innenseite des Gatefolds verbindet dieses Motiv mit einer Illustration des in Berlin lebenden Grafikers und Musikers Max Emil Hurlebaus. Durch farbige Akzente eröffnet sie kontrastreich neue Perspektiven.

A Walking Contradiction resurfaces with a new release by their friend & collaborator Katatonic Silentio, channeling a collection of tracks submerged in echoes and pressure-shaped pulses. AWC011 traces fluid architectures built from delay, decay, and deep resonance--each composition unfolding like sediment in motion. Sounds sway with tidal pull, suspended in chambers where space thickens and time refracts. Basslines emerge like sonar beneath shifting layers, while percussive elements flicker at the edges, softened by current and drag. Elastic and disorientated, these underwater constructions are tuned to the language of depth and dissolution.