Buscar:beneath

Many Amerindian cultures share the belief that the future lies behind us, while the past is what we face ahead. This challenge to Western chronology is, however, rooted in common sense: the open possibilities of what is to come are, in theory, what we cannot see—the uncertain—whereas the events that have already happened unfold before our eyes and are available for us to learn from.



This second album by Chilean producer, live performer, and DJ Valesuchi could be described as an experiment with time through music. Some years after relocating to Rio de Janeiro, she released Tragicomic LP (2019) on MAMBA rec—a label founded by the boundary-pushing Brazilian party Mamba Negra—and the self-released EP Cascada (2024). In both works, we can already appreciate her musical imprint: rhythmic and emotional timbral lines—wet, filtered, mathematical,

devotional, multilingual, fantastic, and unreal. However, in Futuro Cercano (Discos Nutabe, 2025), we can hear a leap: the sedimentation of her lived experiences in electronic communities across Latin America, her search for a universal yet personal language to convey emotion and new spiritual meaning, finds in this release a consistency and spontaneity that is rarely heard these days.



In a time when all cultural expression is not only expected to be taggable, but is also increasingly produced from templates that precondition our perception—favoring categorization and connections to works or scenes of the past—the tracks on this album are generically unclassifiable. They represent an openness to experiment without prejudice with electronic instruments and rhythms that are asancestral as they are futuristic. They publicly reveal an intimacy born from the compositional process, a bond formed through the encounter—sometimes tense, sometimes harmonious—between human will and that of the machines themselves. Or, as Valesuchi put it, "cyborging my friendship with the machine and becoming a tempest." Tempest as an eruption of the unknown into the present, the result of opening oneself to a nearly meditative state to uncover the deepest feelings through improvisation on cybernetic feedback and loops. And in that improvisation, to develop “técnicas para estirar o medir el tiempo”

“techniques to stretch or measure time” as she sings in 22, the album’s first track. “Connecting knowledges” as a portal to access that future so near it lies behind us, and to anticipate it as intuition and prospection.



That’s why Futuro Cercano is more than just electronic music: it is a technological ritual, an immersion into the secrets that machines hold as artifacts of human and non-human knowledge, as mysterious objects that allow us to connect with our own otherness—the personal alien hiding beneath the skin that opens us up to uncertainty as possibility rather than catastrophe.

Joanna Duda Trio’s new album, 'Delighted' weaves a hypnotic tapestry of sound that immediately captivates the listener. From the very first note, the track invites you into a world where inventive rhythms and melodies dance with a mesmerizing intensity. The crispness of the percussion and the looming intensity of the double bass create a vivid sonic landscape that feels both fresh and accessible, while undeniably complex.

Duda’s composition is one of her strengths, having been sought out to compose the music for the first Polish film for Netflix Originals (Erotica 2022), and she again demonstrates her uncanny ability to blend subtle complexity with melodic piano hooks that ooze playfulness. Beneath the surface a darker, more menacing undertone that keeps the listener on edge.

"This delightful composition was worth the wait" (Twisted Soul Music) "Effortlessly interchanging some mind boggling time signatures, I love their precision" (Soweto Kinch, BBC Radio 3) "To say that Joanna Duda is a jazz pianist is an understatement. The artist transcends musical boundaries, often using jazz as a starting point for broader sonic explorations" (Polskie Radio)

The Trio has an extensive European tour planned to support her album release.

„All is love and pain in the mouse parade“ ist das lang erwartete vierte Album der Band. Es ist eine Sammlung von Geschichten darüber, wie Liebe und Schmerz miteinander verwoben sind. Gefühle, die auf den ersten Blick unvereinbar scheinen, aber gleichzeitig existieren und einander brauchen. Das Album wurde im Heimstudio der Band in Island geschrieben, aufgenommen und produziert, mit Unterstützung ihres Kindheitsfreundes, dem Toningenieur Bjarni Þór Jensson.

Mit ihrem 2011 erschienenen Durchbruchalbum „My Head Is An Animal“ schafften Of Monsters and Men den Sprung von Reykjavík auf die Weltbühne und wurden von isländischen Indie-Lieblingen zu internationalen Chartstürmern.

Inmitten ihres kometenhaften Aufstiegs veröffentlichte die Band 2015 ihr zweites Album „Beneath the Skin“, das auf Platz 3 der Billboard 200 debütierte. Begleitet wurde die Veröffentlichung von einem Überraschungsauftritt in der HBO-Erfolgsserie „Game of Thrones“. Ihr cineastischer Sound tauchte überall auf, von „The Hunger Games“ bis „The Secret Life of Walter Mitty“.

Nach über einem Jahrzehnt hat sich die Band von folkigen Newcomern zu einer festen Größe des digitalen Zeitalters entwickelt. Sie hat 9 Millionen monatliche Hörer:innen auf Spotify und erreicht eine neue Generation, die entdeckt, dass die Schönheit Islands über Fjorde und Thermalbäder hinausgeht.

Rare groove fans, take note of yet another gem from the good folks at P-VINE as they reissue Les DeMerle's iconic cover of 'A Day In The Life,' famously sampled in O.C.'s hip-hop classic 'Time's Up.' It's a laidback and jazzed up sound with deep cut rhythms, big horns and conversational sax leads that hit different. Alongside the jazz-funk gem comes 'Aquarius' with DeMerle's sharp drum breaks (which in the past have been sampled by Jurassic 5, De La Soul and DJ Shadow) ride beneath funky keys work and joyous horns that persuade you to get up and move. Pressed in very limited quantities, it's a vital addition to any hip-hop or rare groove set.

10 year anniversary edition of Kreng's massive »Works for Abattoir Férme 2007 - 2011”« 4 LPs worth of slow, skin crawling cinematic ambience made for the Belgian theatre group Abattoir Fermé.

It could hardly be a better time to again dive deep into Kreng and Abattoir Fermé's disturbingly beautiful underground worlds. Through 8 full- length vinyl sides we are transported through the most terrifying, shadow- filled, down-right bizarre moments of the subconscious. What could be the sound of your darkest dreams or most surreal fantasies gradually unfolds throughout the three and a half hour duration. Exactly this is what Abattoir Fermé specialises in, and Pepijn Caudron's scores perfectly reflect and accompanies both this theatricality as well as our own fears and desires in a masterful way.

Each extended side is crafted from an arsenal of samples, disintegrating vinyl and corroded tape, and Pepijn Caudron manipulates these sounds in a way that belies the sources. Rather than allow the sounds to emerge, they stay trapped beneath swathes of noise, tape delay and oppressive bass giving us a compositions that emerge like a cross between William Basinski, Jerry Goldsmith (circa Alien) and Henryk Górecki.’ »Works for Abattoir Fermé« is not for the faint of heart, but for the rest of us it might be just what the Doctor ordered...

DEVO’s Hardcore documents the group’s beginning as pre-punk outcasts in the fertile Akron, Ohio, underground rock scene. Spawned at the nearby college of Kent State, site of the infamous May 4 Massacre, DEVO formed as a conceptual art project armed with the radical philosophy of de-evolution. Brothers Mothersbaugh (Mark, Bob and Jim) and Brothers Casale (Jerry and Bob) along with drummer Alan Myers soon whipped up an otherworldly brand of “devolved blues” that could hold its own alongside the beatnik groove of 15-60-75 (a.k.a. The Numbers Band) or the primal rock poetry of The Bizarros. Recorded on various four-track machines and in tiny studios, basements and garages between 1974-1977, Hardcore reveals their strikingly clear vision: rock ’n’ roll stripped bare of its collective cool and jerked back into propaganda fit for post-modern man. It’s no surprise that these transmissions would soon catch the eye and ear of Brian Eno, who later produced their landmark 1978 debut album. Noisy synth, strangled guitar chops and a primitive rhythmic thud power the early DEVO sound. Threaded beneath it all are lyrical themes of post-McCarthy paranoia, middle-class ephemera and DEVO’s long-running topic of choice: sex, or lack thereof. Few moments in pop music history can match the grinding, pent-up energy of “Mongoloid” and the spastic bounce and sputter of “Jocko Homo” (two anthems presented in their earlier and superior versions here). Cult favorites like “Mechanical Man” and “Auto-Modown” make Volume 1 essential listening. Superior Viaduct and Booji Boy Records are proud to present DEVO’s Hardcore to a new generation of spuds, lovingly packaged with Moshe Brakha’s stunning cover photography. As David Bowie said in 1977, DEVO is indeed “the band of the future.”

NYC punk-chic, discodelic funk band Say She She is back with Cut & Rewind, their politically-charged, dancefloor-crushing third album. Led by the powerhouse vocal trio of Piya Malik, Sabrina Mileo Cunningham, and Nya Gazelle Brown, the group channels progenitors like Minnie Ripperton, Charles Stepney, Liquid Liquid, and Raw Silk to create a groove-forward, psychedelic soundscape of pulsing disco beats, heavenly whistle tones, and soaring three-part harmonies. There's a feeling of righteous rebellion simmering beneath these songs' body-moving exterior, though: "She Who Dares" is a call to fight against a near-future dystopia where women's rights have been decimated globally; "Disco Life" decries the racism and homophobia of Steve Dahl's 1979 "Disco Demolition Night," reclaiming the dancefloor as "a playing field where all are free." Cut & Rewind is protest music dressed up as a sweat-dripping, hip-shaking, mind-expanding good time.

Animistic Resonance marks a new stage for artist and electronic musician Leslie García, as it is her first album under her own name, following several releases as Microhm and her parallel work as founder of the contemporary art studio Interspecifics, where she has developed an extensive body of sonic projects presented in major museums and programs around the world. The album is the culmination of a profound and extended exploration of sound as language. It is also a statement against the classicism of long-form ambient pieces. Narratively, each track is conceived as a finely detailed work that functions as a condensed temporal fragment, each with its own individuality while simultaneously forming part of a broader universe.

The compositional language of the album draws on minimalist structures, deep listening strategies, and experimental approaches to electronic sound. Each track offers a meditation on repetition, density, and micro-variation, unfolding like a sonic landscape shaped by temporal tension and perceptual ambiguity. Animistic Resonance resists categorization, situating itself between ambient, noise, and abstract rhythm, while grounding its aesthetic in a Latin American sensibility that embraces technological poetics, affective depth, and critical imagination.

The album invites listeners to move beyond the surface and inhabit a world of vibrational and animistic temporalities. It offers a refuge in sound, a suspended space where calm can emerge. In the midst of contemporary turbulence, Animistic Resonance opens the door to imagining new ways of listening and feeling, demanding an embodied and visceral form of engagement.

Composition sound synthesis and programming by Leslie García. Composed between 2022—2024 in Mexico City.
Mastered by Rafael Anton Irisarri at Black Knoll Studio, NY. Artwork by Daniel Castrejón.

Identified Patient returns to Dekmantel for a third time with his Reset EP. The future-facing four tracker is another mutant fusion of bass and techno with low-end power with cerebral sound designs.

Job Veerman debuted on the Dekmantel UFO Series in 2019, returned in 2020 and has lit up the festival several times with transportative sets that balance power with precision. Like his productions on the Nerve Collect label, he co-runs with Gamma Intel, they are leftfield explorations of genre and tempo that find strange sensuality in often abstract ideas. Once again here, the Dutchman draws on eclectic influences to craft music that sounds like no one else but remains anchored by magnetic rhythms.

Opener 'Light' kicks off with a fuzzy synth line that slithers between syncopated drums. Whispered vocals drift through the mix as lurching basslines swell and collapse beneath them. The groove disassembles and reassembles in waves, propelled forward by bursts of glitchy, off-kilter percussion that's unsteady yet seductive. 'Scales' is a slow, menacing descent into rhythmic darkness. It sounds both ancient and futuristic with ghoulish vocalisations and filtered synths flickering like a badly wired circuit. There's a rave tension lurking throughout, but always in the shadows.

'Internal Pace' drives on but rides fluid, wobbly bass while tightly looped hits build the pressure. Layers of static and subtle distortion add grit to this unrelenting heads-down roller. Finally, 'Return' is a kinetic, razor-edged ride where jungle breaks collide serpentine melodies. Ethereal female coos drift in and out, brushing against spat-out vocal fragments so that tension crackles throughout this hallucinogenic trip.

With Reset, Identified Patient reaffirms his status as a singular voice who twists sound into evocative new worlds.

Honour's debut album is a ligament stretching from Lagos to London and to New York, curling across the diaspora and brushing the darker hues of blues, hip-hop, free jazz, ambient, gospel with Christian mythology and Yoruba folklore. As cinematic as it is painterly, Alàáfíà is a meditation on themes of life, death and love that pulls inspiration from the unexpected poetic profundity of casual conversations, field recordings, literature, ephemera, or personal archives. The result is an impressionistic vision in Black and Blur that both exhausts and implicates language_substantiating a mythos proposed by Fred Moten that sublimates boundaries between everywhere and nowhere; history and the present; the individual and the universal. Alàáfíà delineates a gothic landscape cut by overdriven beats, swooping orchestral blasts, choral bursts and ear- splitting fuzz, where the fleshly and spiritual realms commune. Dedicated to Honour's late grandmother, the title track began to take form after their last embrace and remains steeped in her influence and spirit_a tape-saturated composition that starts in Lagos and ends in London's smoke-stained cityscape, the song's dream-like quality developed out of the artist's grief and PTSD coping with this loss. Beneath the stretched guitar drones and stuttering loops, their grandmother's shared faith bubbles to the surface. "When Angels Speak of Love," borrows its title from two works by Sun Ra and bell hooks, respectively. Sculpting echoes of praise music into disorienting spirals perforated with syrupy DJ Screw-inspired breaks and sharp splinters of melancholic guitar, "When Angels Speak of Love" engages a conceptual dialogue with the spirits of both late thinkers, folding them into Honour's pantheon of ancestral guides. The album's ninth track, "Giz Aard ($uckets)," is a dirge of regimented drums which anchor this somber melody as it whirls into a blizzard of heartache, uncertain if its consequence will be death or eternal joy. The album's sole lyrical offering, "Pistol Poem (Lead Belly)," begins with a darkly humorous bar, "He went thru hell and back/ came back/ 2 get the strap," that swells into a haunting allegory based on the life of Philip "Hot Sauce" Champion. A modern take on the Blues, Honour's lyrics reify the artist's status as a student of both literature and popular culture, crossbreeding the artist's clever wordplay with additional references to Richard Pryor, Robert Johnson, Kelly Rowland & Bryon Gysin. Setting core principles of hip-hop, R&B, jazz and gospel music to atemporal soundscapes and compositions, Honour crafts a record that marinates in its own knotty contradictions. The ghosts that sit on the artist's shoulders have never been more tangible than with this emotive debut.

»Downriver« unfolds like a dérive through obscured geographies, echoing the psychogeographic journeys of Iain Sinclair. Just as Sinclair’s writing blurs the tangible and the imagined, Sequences, the project of Antwerp-based artist Niels Geybels, drifts into spaces where memory and environment overlap. Single-take recordings stretch into slowly mutating drones, fractured textures, and ghostlike voices that seem to seep in from unseen thresholds. The atmosphere is one of decayed grandeur, evoking disused monuments, neglected warehouses, and corners of the landscape where centuries of history accumulate beneath the surface.

This is music shaped by wandering without a map: a patchwork of distortion, hidden detail, and abrupt rupture. The sense of time loosens, the everyday unravels, and new contours emerge out of drift and delay. Downriver situates itself between sound art and environmental music, drawing listeners into liminal zones where place becomes porous, haunted by what has been and what might yet be.

Written and recorded by Niels Geybels Mastered by Jacob Calland

First released on August 18, 2023, "Outline of Nature" started as an experiment in building a modular synthesizer system and ended up as a voltage controlled outpouring of love for the natural world. Sylvan-born and pastoral-powered, sap-blooded and lightning-charged, this album grew out of the damp florescent corners of the woods, each note and sound, a fractal extension of their seedling sounds. It was nurtured into being at The Twilight Research Centre, a studio facility situated on the border of Somerset and Dorset. During Covid lockdown 1.0, I spent the outdoor hours we were permitted, wandering through the centre's surroundings, in the green lanes, woodlands and corridors of the wilds with their wary and flickering inhabitants, beneath the distant eyes of the soaring buzzards and the hulking red kites. I didn't expect it, but it was in the quiet, ferociously vibrant dens of nature, that I found a deeply profound connection with the natural world. It once again made sense to feel as much a part of the woods as the trees were; I felt like a natural entity in its habitat again, not something I'd properly felt since running wild through the gullies, dells and fells of the Midlands as a child. And I became afflicted with a powerful urge to build strange electronic sound systems that were organic, chaotic, fractal and in some way reflective of the awesome natural systems that surround us and surround the centre. I plugged in the modular, and went searching for signs of life. Adding to this, just before the lockdowns, I stumbled across a three volume nature encyclopedia in a local charity shop, called "Outline of Nature in the British Isles" by Sir John Hammerton. The sub-heading reads "A Comprehensive Photo-Survey of the Varied Life of Field and Hedgerow, Moor and Mountain, River, Pond and Sea", and it's a stunning collection of grainy photographs, beautiful illustrations and wondrously poetic writing, some of which inspired track titles and of course, the album title. I also rekindled my love of Ladybird nature books such as the "What to Look for in Spring/Summer/Autumn/Winter" series, "Birds and How They Live" and "Butterflies, Moths and Other Insects", rebuilding a small collection I had as a child and discovering numerous volumes new to me. Between the two literary sources, I had a rich well of imagery, writing and pastoral nostalgia to draw from; and coupled with the extended sessions of blissing out in my own heavily ecstatic awe descended on me in the sheer grandness of the wilderness, I set about enticing out of the woods an album of phosphorescent electrical music, abundant with comparatively microscopic, but persistent and wild life-forces.

180 gram pressing.

Producer, DJ, multi-instrumentalist and live performer Alek Lee returns with his second LP, an immersive instrumental journey shaped by his raw, smoky, guerrilla-style production. Cold Feet invites you deep into the Alek Lee universe, rich with swirling synths, layered percussion, Balearic guitar lines and dub-infused horns.

From the psychedelic, Sade like grooves of the title track and “Too Soon,” both steeped in cinematic mystique, to the sun drenched energy of “Pino Pino” and “The Right Thing,” which shimmer with Balearic disco flair, the album glides effortlessly across moods and tempos. A highlight arrives with the summer dub anthem “Was Was Was,” featuring long time collaborator and former Shame On Us bandmate Yovav Arzi on electric guitar.

The journey winds down with “Illusions,” a sultry, downtempo banger laced with an oriental twist, before dissolving into the final track “Cold Feet Desert”, a return to stillness, barefoot on white desert sand beneath a star strewn sky.

With a career spanning over two decades, Alek Lee has carved out a unique space in the global music scene. Known for his long, genre defying DJ sets and dynamic live performances, he moves fluidly between dub, house, and his own idiosyncratic productions. As a solo artist and through projects like Shame On Us and Project Runaway, Alek has played some of Europe’s most respected venues and festivals, including Sisyphos, Kater Blau, Glastonbury, Garbicz and Fusion. His releases have earned radio play from BBC6’s Iggy Pop and NTS’s David Holmes and featured on Peggy Gou’s Boiler Room and France’s legendary Radio Nova.

Now based in Athens, Alek continues to evolve his distinctive sound with Cold Feet, his most expansive statement yet.

Signals Aligned stands as a sonic testament to the intersection of science, spirituality, and the vast unknown. Inspired by pioneering theories on the nature of anomalous phenomena, viewing them not as extraterrestrial but as a complex, multidimensional enigma.

There’s a consistent theme of “discovery through distortion.” Truth is often obscured by layers of misinformation, disinformation, and misperception. The music plays with the concept of clarity and distortion, revealing hidden textures beneath shifting layers of sound.

The sound palette is vast and ethereal, incorporating elements of noise, shimmering synths, and organic textures. There’s a sense of both wonder and unease that mirrors theories on the strange and unexplainable.

The latest by Andrew Clinco's acid punk alias VR SEX takes its title from an architectural phrase but more importantly refers to the warped, wicked underworld the songs both chronicle and condemn. Donning the moniker Noel Skum - an acerbic anagram of Elon Musk - Clinco vents his scorn for and fascination with the seedy, surreal margins of low-life Los Angeles, doomed to dead ends of vanity, lust, and technology. Although initially launched as an outlet for "heavier sounds" beyond Clinco's duties in new wave fantasists Drab Majesty, the project has ripened into a compelling exercise in world building, weaving themes of gritty city neofuturist sleaze within a framework of driving, distorted guitars and cathode-blasted synths. Echoes of Chrome, Wire, Minimal Man, and Sisters Of Mercy ripple through the collection but ultimately Rough Dimension charts its own twisted vision of "our unforgiving reality." Written and demoed across two weeks alone in a Marseille flat using his prized 1980's Gibson "Invader" and a laptop, Clinco then took the tracks to Strange Weather studios in Brooklyn to record with Ben Greenberg (Uniform, The Men) who helmed 2019's debut, Human Traffic Jam. The results are notably ripping, refined, and riveting. Riffs in alternate tunings chug and churn over mid-tempo drums punctuated by spikes of sci-fi electronics while the vocals swagger and spit venom ("where we walk is also where we shit / but if we bark at our reflections are we hypocrites? / impulses bleed right into our seed / where hate culminates the apple rotted on the tree"). It's a bristling mix of the melodic and the macabre, absurdist observations of fast living and desperate measures, the clock of youth ticking towards midnight as dreams unravel in Babylon. VR SEX's specialty is making these cautionary tales of psychic decay and tainted love a thrill rather than a drag. There's a sunglasses at night glamor to Clinco's choruses and solos, a wit to his black leather judgements ("what is the answer / to cancerous people / walking in my line of sight?"). The music's milieu tends towards parasites and predators but its mood skews refreshingly accelerated and amused, cruising the strip with a cigarette, watching goths and limousines crawl in gridlock beneath digital billboards. The Rough Dimension may be a cesspool, but it's home.

Feel the Magic, the latest EP from DJ Paradiso released under the Tranceatlantyk label, is a radiant tribute to the golden era of Eurodance and early ’90s rave culture. The five-track collection bursts with high-octane rhythms, euphoric synths, and infectious melodies that transport listeners straight to the heart of a neon-lit dancefloor. From the opening track “MYB to the Beat,” with its punchy tempo and catchy vocal snippets, to the blissful tones of “Feels Like Heaven,” DJ Paradiso crafts an atmosphere brimming with nostalgia and joy. Each track is a carefully constructed homage to the spirit of carefree rave nights, rich with shimmering pads and driving beats.

The second half of the EP ventures deeper into the dancefloor’s hypnotic side. “Magic Shine” offers luminous arpeggios paired with an upbeat pulse, while “Underground” dives into moodier territory, layering darker grooves beneath an entrancing rhythm. Altogether, Feel the Magic balances retro homage with modern clarity, offering a feel-good yet dynamic journey through sounds that once defined a generation of ravers—and now, through DJ Paradiso, feel excitingly alive again.

LTD. CLEAR BLUE VINYL

New York painter and musician exploratory industrialist Tor Lundvall initially envisioned his 14th album, Beautiful Illusions, as an entirely instrumental affair, "inspired by memories of sitting in a church or cathedral watching the shifting sunlight through stained glass." Although he ultimately chose to wreath the majority of the tracks with hushed, poetic vocals, his original muse still resonates. These are certainly songs of shadowplay and vaulted skies, the quiet grandeur of dusk deepening on the horizon. Lundvall characterizes the lyrical subject matter, too, in ways both specific and surreal, exploring "the doubts, the anxieties and even the bleak fantasies the mind spirals into during moments of isolation, separation and distance." Tricks of the eye, mind, and ear, magnified by silence and the looming long winter. Shivering pulses and muted bass lines tread the twilight while icicle synths and wiry guitar map the melody until the voice enters, narrating oblique moods of essence and absence, tenderness and truth. Glimpses of dark humor flicker in the wordplay but the greater sonic landscape is one of falling leaves and failing light, small gestures rendered as revelation, cloaked in reverb and spatial fog. Lundvall's mastery of nuance and negative space continues to heighten, whispered brushstrokes of the invisible and the unsaid, what lies beneath and what lies beyond: "Behind the shields and false fronts is usually a sadness. The heartbreaking reflections of what might have been."

Brazilian Psychedelic Rock Artist Firefriend via Cardinal Fuzz and Little Cloud Records announce a first time vinyl pressing for the classic - “999 to 666 ts Street” Prepare to take the long way through the void — Brazilian sonic architects Firefriend present the searing “999 to 666 TS Street”, a full-length LP that bends time, bleeds color, and dives deeper into the cracked corridors of psychedelic rock. With roots tangled deep in the underground of São Paulo and their eyes forever fixed on the cosmic unknown, Firefriend has carved out a space uniquely their own — a distorted dreamscape where shoegaze meets fuzz, noise folds into melody, and every track is a doorway. “999 to 666 TS Street” is a concept record that navigates a haunted psychogeography: an address etched between realities, where spiritual unrest collides with dystopian daydreams.

A Journey Through Sound and Shadow Drenched in fuzzed-out guitars, whispered vocals, analog synths, and pulsing rhythms, this LP sees the trio — Yury Hermuche (guitar/vocals), Julia Grassetti (bass/vocals), and Cacau Bandeira (drums) — begin to forge the fearless vision they seek. From the opening surge to the final fractured lullaby, “999 to 666 TS Street” is both a destination and a transmission: a call to the wanderers, the outsiders, and the seekers. But Firefriend's mission isn’t just sonic — it’s political.

As proudly left-wing artists with an internationalist vision, the band channels the disillusionment and resistance of a generation watching the world teeter. Their music radiates both critique and hope, connecting the dystopia of late capitalism with a dream of liberation. Whether playing São Paulo basements or European festivals, Firefriend brings an urgent message beneath the haze: solidarity is louder than silence. "This album is a street you can't find on any map — it's the place your mind goes when you turn the lights off," says frontman Yury Hermuche. "It's noise, beauty, and a little bit of danger." "We wanted to build a record that feels like a fever dream on vinyl," adds bassist Julia Grassetti. "Something physical, something that glows in the dark." About Firefriend Known for their hypnotic live shows and cult international following, Firefriend has shared stages with underground legends and graced the grooves of multiple celebrated independent releases.

They’ve become essential listening for fans of Spacemen 3, The Brian Jonestown Massacre, and The Velvet Underground — yet remain wholly, defiantly themselves. “999 to 666 TS Street” marks the start and is another milestone in their prolific catalog, pushing the limits of psychedelic rock while remaining anchored in the beautifully bleak emotionalism that defines their sound. Beneath the distortion lies a worldview — anti-authoritarian, borderless, and defiantly alive.

Still Forms in Air is the debut album by Italian composer Francesca Marongiu under her own name. It draws inspiration from mid-1980s Japanese ambient music — Hiroshi Yoshimura, Satoshi Ashikawa, Takashi Kokubo — and, more subtly, from Italian experimental echoes rooted in both personal and cultural memory.

The album unfolds like suspended time, like architecture that quietly bears witness to the shifts that have shaped our cities and the ways we live in them. These tracks reflect an emotional and urban landscape, shaped by a gaze cast upon the mid-1980s and early ’90s — a time of subtle yet lasting changes in the form and meaning of shared space. That period marked a delicate turning point, later described as les années d’hiver: the slow onset of fragmentation beneath a surface of creative openness.

Still Forms in Air doesn’t dwell in nostalgia (though it draws from it), but reimagines that duality through a contemporary lens. Its sound blends memory and presence, layering ambient textures with a refined spatial sensitivity. It is a dialogue across decades — clear-eyed, affectionate, and quietly luminous.

Written, arranged and recorded by Francesca Marongiu in Rome and Pistoia between May 2024 and March 2025.
Francesca Marongiu: electronics, synthesizers, vocals, sound objects.
Antonio Gallucci: wind arrangements on track 1 and 4, bass and sound objects on track 3, drums on track 3 and 4.
Mixed by Francesca Marongiu and Antonio Gallucci. Mastered by Antonio Gallucci at Mercurial Mastering in Pistoia. Artist photo by Elisabetta Scarpini. Artwork by Daniel Castrejón.

Pyrex’s post-apocalyptic punk slithers out of the melting pot that is New York City, nodding to influences ranging from early thrash to Crass Records post-punk and the city’s own storied hardcore lineage. Rooted in the classic acid-damaged sound of Chrome, Pyrex takes notes from disparate influences like Poison Idea, Needles and Crazy Spirit, delivering a rolling boil of punk nihilism with hints of psychedelia simmering beneath. Their latest, Slugman, is four tracks of irate punk fury packed into a taut eight minutes—all toxic sludge and raw nerve spilling in abundance. It’s nasty, unhinged and volatile but won’t leave your turntable for a long while. Approach with caution.