quête:between the buried

‘Colors II’ is the tenth studio album from American progressive metal band Between The Buried and Me (BTBAM).
UK is the band’s 2nd top International market.
The band’s 2018 record ‘Automata I’ hit the Billboard charts at #1 Independent, #4 Hard Music, #6 Rock Albums and #8 Top Albums.

REVIEWS
"Utterly gorgeous. This magnificent album is the gift that keeps on giving. Downright essential"
Electronic Sound (No. 6 Album Of The Year 2022)
"A cosmic swoon that plays with closeness and distance in the realm of revelation"
Pitchfork - 7.6
"Gloriously introspective"
Sunday Times
2022 Album Of The Year
The Thin Air

“One of Berghain’s longest-serving residents, Luke Slater has been defining bleepy, polyrhythmic, industrial-strength techno as Planetary Assault Systems since the mid-nineties. P.A.S albums tend to come together in their own time:

“External signals and signs combine until the recipe feels right, both musically and from being ‘out there’,” Slater adds. “10 years since I released Arc Angel on Ostgut Ton, and it’s a fitting pleasure to combine live show ideas and studio work for the new album, served up with raw energy” That patience runs through his whole Ostgut catalogue; since Temporary Suspension brought its machine-tooled weight and alien feeling to the label in 2009, each P.A.S. release on Ostgut Ton has been its own quest for discovery, from The Messenger’s search for sounds not yet present in club music to Arc Angel’s focus on melody to the deep hypnosis of Plantae.

His new album, Planetary People has the deliberate imagination and depth of a record that took its time, shaped as much by live rooms and crowds as by the studio.

“Into The Night” creates a haunting, dystopic environment of corroded acid saturated in echo, absorbing from the first second. “Labyrinth” breaks into buoyant tribal percussion, modulated chirps trading off over propulsive drums. “Quadrant 10” is clean, delay-drenched techno, buzzing with noise splatters over saturated thuds. “Sermon Of The Light Tides” scrambles metallic bell sequences that distort and evolve throughout, reminiscent of a dial-up modem crossed with a game of Frogger, squelching between percussive bursts and stripped-back kicks. “Brave Cosmo” is tormentingly menacing, eerie synths panning around buried vocal fragments over frantic percussion. “Retina Burn” rolls on fierce, cement-mixer 909 cycles, rave stabs over a ride that locks you in, the whole track stuttering and repeating before stripping back to a bare echoing kick and building itself again. “Thunder Major” barrels on open hats and reverb-drenched claps ricocheting through twisting wreaths of delay, mesmeric and relentless. “Beton Brut” marches juggernaut percussion stamping through hall reverb so vast you can visualise the room, the darkest and most unrelenting track on the record. “No Ninja” crunches in metallic and immediate, a wiry plucked lead threading through glitch with the bass held low and deep, mixed so precisely you can see every layer stacked in your mind’s eye. “Ha Jam” is danceable techno with plenty of funk and a sophisticated looseness, a vocal laugh bouncing off clanging metal blocks and rave stabs. “Lynx” lowpasses its rave stabs and crystalline beeps, chirpy hats ticking, cold metal repeats, old school and mesmeric. “Generation Slip” closes everything out, ominous and churning, skittering percussion and electrical sparks rattling through steel, a freight train barrelling on into oblivion.

Depeche Mode, Yazoo, Erasure's Vince Clarke, Blancmange's Neil Arthur and the electronic producer-writer-synth-nerd Benge have joined forces to form the new project Doublespeak. Set to be released on May 29th, their self-titled debut album revisits eleven of their favourite songs from the past four decades, each reimagined and renewed in the timeless space of gleaming analogue electronica.

The 'Doublespeak' album is divided between songs from the postpunk netherworld brought blinking into the light (Fad Gadget, The Sound, Young Marble Giants), pop radio monsters ushered back down a dark stairway into the club (ABBA, David Essex, The Carpenters) and buried treasures from the 1990s onwards (The Magnetic Fields, Ed Dowie and Laptop).

Collectively, the album amounts to a shadow autobiography of the three collaborators' continuing musical education. Doublespeak is the great human songbook, synthesised.
Empathic vocals, bold arrangements and glowing analogue electronics turn familiar and forgotten songs into a personal, forward-looking electronic statement.

These days – on the new, ninth Fink album – Greenall is operating within a lineage of authentic, quietly revolutionary artists from England’s verdant southwestern toe. Artists like Michael Chapman. In 1970, the elusive acoustic guitar wizard released an album called Fully Qualified Survivor. The cult-classic served as a lodestar for Greenall – along with bandmates Tim Thornton and Guy Whittaker – as he began jigsawing together The City Is Coming to Erase it All, the follow-up to 2024’s Beauty In Your Wake. He even considered covering a song from it, but in the process, inadvertently stumbled into what became the album’s opener. ‘Wishing For Blue Sky’ circles a universal teenage ache: waiting for life to start. “No point dying of patience” goes the first lyric as crunching footsteps cue a resonant, open-tuned acoustic swaying into view. By 18, Greenall was fed up with waiting, so he left suburban Bristol and saw the world, sending postcards from the edge, waiting tables, squirreling away tips for the next flight. Thornton had similar experiences when the guitarist/drummer busked across Eur

This is nowstalgia more than nostalgia, though; there’s a parallel between these 18-year-olds and Fink’s autumn-aged family men. “You’re expected to be boring and settling down at this age,” Thornton says. “But we’ve still got this tremendous wanderlust. We want to go and discover, and also achieve things. It’s a nice life – home and family – but fuck, I can’t wait to get back out there.” City is a product of this hunger for discovery, and idolatry of the album as a form – like we had in 1974. City’s cover mirrors its interior, the first song is the greeting, the instrumental closer the conclusion. It’s a story. It’s a record for people who, like its creators, are curious. People who happily face a little cold for music, who light a crackling fire back home, who sit with these songs until they’re ready to chase after their own blue sky

These days – on the new, ninth Fink album – Greenall is operating within a lineage of authentic, quietly revolutionary artists from England’s verdant southwestern toe. Artists like Michael Chapman. In 1970, the elusive acoustic guitar wizard released an album called Fully Qualified Survivor. The cult-classic served as a lodestar for Greenall – along with bandmates Tim Thornton and Guy Whittaker – as he began jigsawing together The City Is Coming to Erase it All, the follow-up to 2024’s Beauty In Your Wake. He even considered covering a song from it, but in the process, inadvertently stumbled into what became the album’s opener. ‘Wishing For Blue Sky’ circles a universal teenage ache: waiting for life to start. “No point dying of patience” goes the first lyric as crunching footsteps cue a resonant, open-tuned acoustic swaying into view. By 18, Greenall was fed up with waiting, so he left suburban Bristol and saw the world, sending postcards from the edge, waiting tables, squirreling away tips for the next flight. Thornton had similar experiences when the guitarist/drummer busked across Eur

This is nowstalgia more than nostalgia, though; there’s a parallel between these 18-year-olds and Fink’s autumn-aged family men. “You’re expected to be boring and settling down at this age,” Thornton says. “But we’ve still got this tremendous wanderlust. We want to go and discover, and also achieve things. It’s a nice life – home and family – but fuck, I can’t wait to get back out there.” City is a product of this hunger for discovery, and idolatry of the album as a form – like we had in 1974. City’s cover mirrors its interior, the first song is the greeting, the instrumental closer the conclusion. It’s a story. It’s a record for people who, like its creators, are curious. People who happily face a little cold for music, who light a crackling fire back home, who sit with these songs until they’re ready to chase after their own blue sky

2026 Repress

Sicily's SLV is able to merge technical mastery with emotional resonance. His potent techno sounds have come via the likes of SHWD's Mutual Rytm and Slam's Soma, and unite timeless yet forward-thinking sonics.
On 'Fleeting Dreams', he continues to refine his signature sound while channelling introspection and intensity into a collection of meticulously crafted cuts that balance precision and feeling, energy and space. Each track reveals a different side of his sonic identity: hypnotic rhythms intertwine with evolving soundscapes, while layers of distortion and melody merge into a dreamlike tension between the mechanical and the organic.

'Fading Moments' kicks off with a sleek blend of driving, supple kicks and warm synth ripples, while a euphoric vocal cry is buried deep to amp up the emotion. 'Scenario' then brings icy hi-hats and sinewy synths bring a futuristic feel to the unrelenting, high-pressure drums down low. 'Daruma' has a darker energy with menacing textures and paranoid FX bringing the rolling drums to life, while 'Bass Grit' has a hunched up rhythm, with groaning pads and fizzing static electricity that charge up the party. To close, 'Shimmer' sinks down into a muscular and deep rhythm that's marbled with restless synths and ever-rising tension.

In addition, digital bonus cuts 'Trust' and '1990' offer different perspectives with slamming drums, seductive vocals and feisty synth loops making for two more bold, immersive techno weapons.

Already in its title, Plume Girl’s debut thoroughly lets things go and takes them in – all at once. “In the End We Begin” is the first solo full-length from Sowmya Somanath, a Hindustani classical singer/composer and half of alt-pop duo Felt Out. Plume Girl’s music takes inspiration from the semi-regular musical form of the rāga (translated as ‘tinting’), invoking mood and atmosphere, each rāga thought to have its own distinct nature and personality, brought to life through improvisation. String swells and Somanath’s searching vocalisations envelop every track’s own blissful chamber. Exploring imagined binaries along the way — eastern vs. western, traditional vs. experimental, acoustic vs. electronic, Sowmya sees music as a curious dialogue between divine Self and an invisible reality. Beneath the illusion of a chromatic world, there remains a blissful oneness.

Plume Girl’s songs sit between ambient Hindustani music and emotionally-encumbered pop. In front of backdrops comprising sundrenched drones or glitches, sketched out beats, and criss-crossing glissandi or flutes, Somanath both murmurs intimately and spirals upwards into soaring choruses. The lyrics ponder innermost thoughts, never more literally than on the blissful emo folk closing track: ‘In my heart I know / what’s in my heart / I know what’s in my…’

“When I began writing this music, I was fresh off of an experience that completely twisted my reality,” explains Somanath. It was the end of a years-long relationship, and the blossoming of a long-buried love hidden in plain sight: “a best friend of a decade, my musical partner, someone who had always seen me completely…At once, I felt grief and loss. At once, excitement and love.”

Tastemaker and cult figure among some, noise vendor among others… lurking somewhere in the shadows between London and Paris, the man known as Sheet Noise emerges out of the blue with his debut LP, Shostakovich's 5th Played Backwards in a Concrete Silo.

A direct shock to the system: equally beautiful and evil, abrasive yet uncomfortably calming. The feeling that something is about to happen at any minute—impending love or hatred blaring from the speakers at breakneck speeds. Heavy-duty, reactor-melted junglism; twisted samples buried under layers of dust and static; familiar voices in unfamiliar places.

This eight-track album is as intense as it can get. Don’t call it ambient. Don’t call it jungle. Don’t call it noise. Just strap yourself into the electric chair and get ready for the end.

A classic in the making.

Following a string of acclaimed collaborations, including Agua Dulce with percussionist Laura Robles and Mapambazuko alongside Congolese guitarist Titi Bakorta, Peruvian artist Alejandra Cárdenas (aka Ale Hop) returns with her most personal work to date yet, A Body Like a Home. Marking her first album under her birth name, the project is a sonic memoir exploring the tangled realms of trauma, recovery, and love through autobiographical soundscapes.
A Body Like a Home is the artist at her most exposed. Comprising 13 songs and 15 poems, the album sees her set aside collaborative fusions for solo catharsis, channeling years of turbulence - intergenerational scars left by colonialism, racism, domestic violence, and alcoholism - into a work that oscillates between brutality and tenderness. Cárdenas states: “I grew up under Alberto Fujimori’s dictatorship, when a veil of hopelessness seemed to settle over everything. This is the backdrop of the album. The songs and poems trace the inevitable loop between private wounds - addiction, domestic violence, fractured intimacy - and Peru’s national scars, carved by colonialism. It’s not a straight story or a resolution. Writing and composing became a ritual of digging for meaning, into what’s buried, disguised, or renamed, until the body itself became a living archive.
” At the heart of the album is Cárdenas’s own voice - part witness, part confessor - reciting over layers of electric guitars, electronic textures, the haunting violin of Mexican musician Gibrana Cervantes, and a collage of field recordings, from rainfall, muffled whispers, broken glass, to archival protest footage from Peru. The result is a work that resonates like a diary written in sound.
The first single, "Motherland", is a searing testimony where Cárdenas voice cracks under the weight of history and personal loss. Amid a storm of distorted guitars, she traces the cyclical legacies of colonialism, from state massacres branding Indigenous bodies as “terrorists” to the spiral of addiction as an unavoidable future. The lyrics draw parallels between political and domestic violence: a mother’s drunken knife pressed to her chest, and a motherland where racism is currency. She utters: “sacrifice demands a body.” Yet, amid the wreckage, a willful grip on love and faith persists. Ultimately, A Body Like a Home is a document of transformation. Tracks like "Evangelina" and the title piece "A Body Like a Home" hold space for resilience, spirituality, and love, while "Early Road" and "Going South" thread subtle nods to Peruvian folklore, opening up bright vignettes into a sense of belonging.
The poetry chapbook accompanying A Body Like a Home (five of its pieces are also recited on the album) extends the work, building a parallel architecture. Oscillating between the documentary and the mythic, the intimate and the forensic, the profane and the oniric, these poems practice a theology of the ordinary, where everyday objects - cameras, knives, moth-eaten cotton - are charged withspiritual and historical weight. Here, the body is land, house, battlefield, collective pain, geological territory; and trauma is, in contrast, archival, cellular, ritualistic, inherited. Read alongside the music, the stories refract across two mediums: songs give them breath and poems give them bone.

Mythology has a recurring theme: creating ambiguity by rearranging worlds and creatures that normally don’t belong together. Centaurs, Minotaurs, Hydras and so on: mockery and mystery intertwine into entities that are in equal parts magnificent and ridiculous. Referencing this idea in the present, Loris S. Sarid conjures 12 compositions simultaneously showing traits of dreamlike trap, candy-flavoured New Age and Spoken Word. The lines between spiritual and mundane, drama and parody are bent and questioned, used as raw material and treated with the same importance. Binding the work together is the sense of feeling peacefully lost inside a shuffling iPod, buried in a quiet zen garden inside a noisy shopping mall or vice versa. What connects Ambient music, which often anonymously swims into endless sleeping playlists with monthly subscriptions to well-being, to the mainstream output of commercial music? "Ambient $" doesn’t explore the social aspect of this question, but rather celebrates the beauty of its paradoxes. This album is the morning choir of forgotten NFTs, brewing lyrics in their binary exile. The television homily of a wrestler turned priest, turned influencer chef, then hermit and then rapper. Randomness is reclaimed as a human quality, and the aesthetics of mass music consumption are repurposed into a rather inexpensive guide to streaming-service-enlightenment.

Sicily's SLV is able to merge technical mastery with emotional resonance. His potent techno sounds have come via the likes of SHWD's Mutual Rytm and Slam's Soma, and unite timeless yet forward-thinking sonics.
On 'Fleeting Dreams', he continues to refine his signature sound while channelling introspection and intensity into a collection of meticulously crafted cuts that balance precision and feeling, energy and space. Each track reveals a different side of his sonic identity: hypnotic rhythms intertwine with evolving soundscapes, while layers of distortion and melody merge into a dreamlike tension between the mechanical and the organic.

'Fading Moments' kicks off with a sleek blend of driving, supple kicks and warm synth ripples, while a euphoric vocal cry is buried deep to amp up the emotion. 'Scenario' then brings icy hi-hats and sinewy synths bring a futuristic feel to the unrelenting, high-pressure drums down low. 'Daruma' has a darker energy with menacing textures and paranoid FX bringing the rolling drums to life, while 'Bass Grit' has a hunched up rhythm, with groaning pads and fizzing static electricity that charge up the party. To close, 'Shimmer' sinks down into a muscular and deep rhythm that's marbled with restless synths and ever-rising tension.

In addition, digital bonus cuts 'Trust' and '1990' offer different perspectives with slamming drums, seductive vocals and feisty synth loops making for two more bold, immersive techno weapons.

Celebrated DJ, producer, and sonic explorer Auntie Flo (aka Brian d’Souza) — described by The Guardian as “one of global club culture’s most vital voices” — returns this autumn with ‘Birds of Paradise’: a rhythmically rich, emotionally resonant, and ecologically grounded new album, out 23 October via his A State of Flo imprint. The album will be launched with a special live show at London’s Jazz Caféon the same day.

‘Birds of Paradise’ draws on d’Souza’s global club experience while deepening his connection with the natural world. Built around classic Roland drum machines and iconic vintage synths, the record is a joyful, body-driven celebration of rhythm and movement, but one grounded in ecology and place. The album’s spiritual centre lies in Saligao, Goa, near d’Souza’s maternal homeland where his Auntie Florie (where the name is derived from) is buried. Where he found his ‘paradise’ nearby, staying in a converted fisherman’s hut and recorded dawn choruses from a riverside studio overlooking mangrove-lined waters. Environmental textures from Japan also make their way into the music, creating a sonic map rooted in lived experience.

“Birds of Paradise is about finding beauty and rhythm in a chaotic world. It’s about listening, to nature, to our bodies, to what’s real. It’s a reminder that dance music can be both joyful and grounded.” The album blends Afro-Latin polyrhythms with Western 4/4 patterns, fusing instinctive, dancefloor energy with field recordings that anchor the music in the earth. Described by d’Souza as “tropical with a few deeper edges, a balance of light and dark.”

The new record follows the acclaimed ‘In My Dreams, I’m A Bird and I’m Free’, which earned 4 stars and Global Album of the Month from The Guardian, featured in Disco Pogo’s Albums of the Year, and received support from Luke Una, Resident Advisor, Juno, Bandcamp, Mixmag, DJ Mag, Electronic Sound, The Skinny, Beatport, Ban Ban Ton Ton, and more. The album’s launch show at Omeara London sold out. Other recent projects include the ‘Outernational Dance’ EP on cult label Multi Culti, event series ‘Plants Can Dance (and Mushroom’s Sing)’ which explore plant and fungi bioelectricity as a means of live composition, and ‘Black Beacon’, a haunting cassette release and soundwalk series recorded on the abandoned military island of Orford Ness. There, d’Souza explored the eerie intersection of nature, decay, and deep time, gaining special access to restricted buildings to capture long-form soundscape compositions.

Alongside his production work, d’Souza has emerged as a leading voice at the intersection of sound and science. He curated music for Imperial College’s groundbreaking psychedelic therapy trials, developing six-phase playlists to guide participants through psilocybin-assisted sessions treating conditions such as fibromyalgia and gambling addiction. His five-hour ambient set at Watching Trees Festival, selected as Resident Advisor’s Mix of the Day, continued this exploration into the therapeutic potential of sound in altered states. He also spent six months collaborating with BBC producer Tom Raine on a documentary for BBC World Service, centred on a two-week journey through Kenya and Goa. There, he performed live, led plant music workshops, and joined a deep listening retreat rooted in field recording. “I realised my studio isn’t just four soundproofed walls filled with instruments — it’s the journey itself. It’s the people I meet, the natural world I listen to, and the connections I feel.”

This same commitment to deep listening fuels his live concept Plants Can Dance, a project that combines the biosonification of plants and fungi with modular synthesis. The next event, on 14 September at Hideout Hackney Wick, will feature performances by Stella Z and Lapalace, with d’Souza and resident Lamine playing live alongside responsive plants in collaboration with Repot Hackney Wick and the label Music To Watch Seeds Grow By. “I’ve spent years exploring how electronic music can connect us, not just to each other, but to the natural world. Whether it’s translating mushroom data into melody or capturing birdsong at dawn, it’s about finding resonance across bodies, ecosystems, and machines.”

Rooted in his Goan and Kenyan heritage and shaped by years of travel and collaboration, d’Souza’s creative mission is simple: to reconnect the electronic world with the natural one. Through A State of Flo, he continues to blur the boundaries between club culture, sound art, and ecological awareness.

Black vinyl LP. Following 2019's acclaimed self-titled debut album, Metal Preyers take the left hand path into a gloomy backwater filled with haunted creatures and fraught with peril. "Shadow Swamps" again finds London-based Jesse Hackett handling the music and Chicago's Mariano Chavez fashioning the album's visual identity, which this time includes a short film and book for a fully immersive experience. "Shadow Swamps" is the soundtrack to a pitch-black fairy tale about a father and daughter as they journey through a swamp avoiding gremlins, red swines and crater creatures. Musically, it pivots between the clattering Czech new wave experimentation of "Valerie and her Week of Wonders" composer Luboš Fišer, or the magical, eccentric lounge of Birmingham's Broadcast, and the grinding industrial grot of Italian pioneer Maurizio Bianchi. This time around, Hackett has roped in production assists from his six year-old-daughter wonder Nyasha hackett who used phone memos to record herself singing - veteran Metal Preyers collaborator Lord Tusk, and Manchester-based painter, DJ and producer Richard Harris, aka Sockethead. The crew inks an unsettling, richly textured sonic landscape, with claws of rhythmic smoke curling around chiming otherworldly xylophone, disembodied fiddle drones echoing over screwed 'n chopped beatbox dirt and half-heard magical vocals buried under clouds of white noise. Track listing: 1 Murking Shadows 2 Ecto Green Code 3 The Preyers Forest 4 Scream Dreamer 5 Red Swines 6 Crate Creature 7 Carpenters Cabin 8 Slime Things Accent 9 Wasp Faced Invasion 10 Metal Mans Revolt 11 On Her Way 12 Gremlin Gurgle 13 Shadow Swamps 14 Escape - The Sunrise

Past Tense returns with a second helping of buried treasure: three previously unreleased tracks from 90s and early 2000s written by US legend John Howard. Made between two millenniums, these cuts blend house, techno, and tech house into a hypnotic, time-warped trip. How they stayed in the vault for over 20 years is anyone's guess.

A disco-funk venture laced with balearic pop as nostalgic as it is buoyant, Dijon-based outfit FLAUR land their inaugural EP on Cosmocities Records. Comprised of three original songs shifting gears between electrifying grooves and washed-out downtempo, plus three remixes courtesy of Art of Tones, Gaettson and Faze Action, ‘Hold On’ speaks the language of lively waves and sun-streaked coasts. By turns explosive and contemplative, the duo’s vision covers a wide span of influences and styles, fusing Californian P-funk with a touch of Supertramp-esque disco and nuances of alternative pop lined with silky funk in the style of acclaimed Versailles band, Phoenix.

Full with suave Wurlitzer piano chords and ultra-syncopated slap bass, the lead-track ‘Hold On’ is an ode to 70s disco pop with its satiny textures, solar-powered melody and a swing bound to cause ravage on the dance floor. The perfect mix of luxuriant disco, vibrant boogie house and supra-sensual cosmic escapology. Even more elating, the layered funk of ’Now’ takes us into a choppy swirl of unshackled pizzicatos, iridescent envelopes and epic vocal flights. Recorded live at Mastoid Studio in Paris, ‘On My Mind’ trades the hi-velocity disco of the first two cuts for a poignant, introspective movement, revolving around the bewitching voice of Florian, a piano and riffs draped in melancholic reverbs. A sonic journey round the confines of soulful dream pop and further intimate songwriting.

In the hands of another rising Dijon-based artist, Gaettson, ‘On My Mind’ morphs into a dance floor-oriented missile, mixing a highly volatile strain of corrosive IDM, sharp breaks and nervy vocal samples. Remixing ‘Hold On’, South of France producer Art of Tones takes us on a proper cosmic trip, laying further emphasis on the original's funky impact through sun-drenched loops a la Alan Braxe and Fred Falke, and a buildup tailored for extended seaside afters; feet buried deep in the sand, head up in the clouds. UK groove legends Simon and Robin Lee, alias Faze Action, round off the package with a chiselled revamp of ’Now’. Slightly accelerated and built for the club, this remix treats us to a pure moment of dance-ready bliss, packed with sinuous rhythms, dynamic bass and fevered percussions.

Fashion Flesh tears the fabric of space and time. This is his first offering for the ESP Institute. With side A’s 'Atoms Revolt', ESP cordially introduces Fashion Flesh, AKA John Talaga, to the deepest corners of your mind. Using largely homemade electronics, circuit-bent gadgets, and tape manipulation, John manages to tap into the innate character of these otherwise introverted machines, eavesdropping and documenting their buried inner dialogue. His command of distortion is multi-tiered. On a micro level, he induces happy accidents and shepherds stray elements. Zooming out a bit, we begin to understand the sonic meat grinder that equalizes his bag of disparate ingredients. And from a macro vantage point, we fully recognize the greater tool that sculpts all of the above into form. Side B’s 'New Freedom' conjures a specific dystopian image—the byproduct of an artist involuntarily conditioned by the commute between up-river Bay County, Michigan and the Detroit metropolitan area. Like cutting away at flesh and muscle, breaking through the bone to suck the marrow, John depicts both the contrast and parallels between two post-industrial urban landscapes, the banal trek across The Thumb between them, and the gradual disintegration of agriculture as one nears the Techno city. Voice fragments begin to stutter in syncopation like radio frequencies interfering with our psyche, Geiger counters wail and moan, untamed oscillations mimic caged primates rioting at the zoo, and a steady-firing piston of drums struggles to break through a dense harmonic soot. The depth of personality John extracts through his manipulation process is remarkable— a point-of-view that foreshadows humanity’s looming technological singularity while hinting that it may have always been here, hiding in plain sight, waiting to be given a voice. These two songs will trip your circuit breakers.

The Rising Wave marks the debut collaboration between singer-songwriter Marlene Ribeiro (of psychedelic band GNOD) and electronic producer Shackleton under the name Light Space Modulator. The album will be released via AD 93.

Since launching her own club night, “Motivation,” back in 2018, B.AI has played a key role in bringing the underground’s club sounds to her home country, China. While introducing some of the scene's most exciting artists to her local audiences, she emerged as one to look out for as well: first as a DJ and quickly thereafter as a producer. Her original takes – a sensitive, highly personal approach to melody and a knack for playing with expectations – crystallized in a slew of A+ releases and a couple of international tours. This trajectory, shaped by taking matters into her own hands and self-empowerment, now sees a logical next step, with the inception of a label that will also operate under the “Motivation” banner and features her own “Hope” EP as its first release.

Sparkling mallets, with synth-pop quality catchiness, open the title track. Rather than further evolving, their two-bar arrangement gets looped over and again, serving as the foundation for a slick FM bass rhythm and a variety of hooks. Although these incline to the bright, the overall vibe is melancholic. In vintage B.AI style, the aptly titled “Hope” is more ambiguous than its patches suggest. Similarly, the vocal this type of palette would call for ultimately comes in the form of aloof, covert musings. A bit buried in the mix, they are most efficient – just like the tension that keeps brooding underneath the surface.

“Murderbot Diaries 1991” turbocharges four-to-the-floor synthetic drums with an arpeggiated rolling bass. The blue note melody on top feels sequenced via a pocket calculator, and the dissonant, electroclash-reminiscent stabs that follow might sound even more angular. The tune is frantic, sinister – and perhaps above all tongue in cheek. It reaches fever pitch with the arrival of a tubular bell theme between the two breaks.

“Once”’s slomo cutoff modulation on the 16th note mid-bass instantly creates a sultry atmosphere that meshes greatly with the pastel cool of the gently delayed DX7 leads. The energy drifts between effortless control and uncertain outcome. These contrasts are amplified as the drums alternate amidst moderation and beat-repeat rendered havoc.

On “Only We Know,” a progressive sine lead lays out the central motif. Yet as briskly as it appears, it makes way for detuned, gliding square waves taking on the same theme. This outlines the track’s structure: as slightly morphed repetitions keep getting introduced almost haphazardly, a dreamlike, mesmerizing ambience unfolds. Techy drum rhythms and a 101-type bass make sure everything stays fuelled. Within the ingenious tapestry of melodies and new twists, it never loses touch with the dance floor. It illustrates B.AI’s club savvy neatly and is therefore a perfect closer for this EP.

Maverick UK producer Kevin Richard Martin (Zonal / Techno Animal / King Midas Sound) joins Relapse for the release of his devastating new double album Machine, his first solo instrumental record as THE BUG.

Machine started life as a series of self-released "floor weapons" (to use Martin’s description), landing in installments between 2023 and 2024 on the Bandcamp page of Martin’s own PRESSURE label. And now - always his intention - Martin has collated a single, powerful, unified statement from those EPs. The album detonates apocalyptic dread-tech mutations of crushing intensity, fusing a unique new strain of futuristic dub with deadly deep electronics and killer bass riffs worthy of the heaviest metal. It is, writes Martin, “ice cold and dystopian.” It celebrates “atmospheric pressure, and the joy of full body assaults, via oversized sound systems in undersized club rooms.” Machine also represents the latest metamorphosis of the "Macro Dub Infection" philosophy Martin germinated with the groundbreaking series of compilations he began curating for Virgin Records as early as the mid 90’s.

Seoul duo Salamanda arrive on Wisdom Teeth with their latest and most focused LP yet: 'In Parallel' - a vividly textural and immersive record that brings a new level of clarity to their typically psychedelic, expansive approach. Since arriving in 2019, the pair - comprised of friends Uman Therma (aka Sala) and Yetsuby (aka Manda) - have been fast at work mapping out their elaborate, dream-state sonic world - prolifically honing their sound across four albums and over a dozen singles to date. Across their already-extensive discography the pair have established a few key calling cards. Mallet instruments and tuned drums play out playful music-box melodies. Thick washes of gaseous ambience invoke otherworldly or ancient soundscapes. And buried fragments of found sound and manipulated vocal give their otherwise synthetic compositions a warm sense of first-person narrative. Ambient and Reich-school minimalism are the music’s most obvious sonic touchstones - yet the pulse of contemporary club and pop music have never been totally out of earshot. All of these themes come in to play here - but 'In Parallel' signals a step well beyond Salamanda’s work to date. Since 2022’s 'ashbalkum' (released on Wisdom Teeth alumni Tristan Arp’s label, Human Pitch), the duo have toured extensively: at classical institutions like London’s Kings Place as well as DIY club dens like Manchester’s White Hotel, all via a series of globally renowned festivals like Mutek, Nachti and Dekmantel. Their creative set-up has grown steadily alongside to incorporate a whole suite of new machines, processes and perspectives, taking their music in bold new directions in the process. The clearest development here is in the duo’s use of vocals - a shift that has been slowly taking place over their last few records, but that comes to a head on In Parallel. The album’s lead single 'Homemade Jam' is the closest the duo have come to writing an all-out pop track: its buoyant beat and autotuned vocals sounding like something SOPHIE and Charli XCX could have written after a particularly potent batch of mushroom tea. It’s a razor-sharp slice of alt-pop that offers a mouthwatering first look at what happens when Salamanda’s sprawling, unbridled creative energy is distilled right down into something concentrated and polished. At other points their sonic explorations lead them to embrace a more upfront approach to rhythm, skirting closer than ever before to the dancefloor in the process. The meandering drums and vocal chops on 'Paper Labyrinth' are underpinned by a firm 4x4 pulse, while the dembow groove of 'Tonal, Fluid' would feel right at home in a Nick León or DJ Plead set. 'In Parallel' is a record about connection, and the warmth and nostalgic simplicity of friendship is felt vividly throughout. Its title refers to the harmony the duo have found between them as friends and collaborators - and sonic parallels are traced throughout the record as testament to this. Motifs come and go before reappearing at later points: take, for example, the melody underpinning ‘Sun Tickles’, which returns in a different key and tempo on album closer ‘Mysterious Wedding’. Parallel lines are traced between each artist and through their music, linking back to their past and pointing ahead to the future. Only Salamanda know where these will take us next.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Somewhere between revelation and delusion, Euphoria Bound maps a familiar trajectory: the irresistible pull towards dissolution, the gradual erasure of memory, the self rendered irretrievable. It moves between states of consciousness where such distinctions of enlightenment or self-deception are erased.

Across ten tracks, the album constructs a spectrum of sound that is both ambitious and Uncompromising. The approach here is more direct than recent releases, with textures that accumulate and disintegrate with renewed urgency.

Creaked out of an eck with two heads and no brain - just fracking around. Juli Zimmer and Sayizan Stange are Blowjobs Are Real Jobs, crawling right under your skin. Armed with guitar, MS-20 and a trashy drum machine, they bark about dogs, ostriches, stolen bodies, heads buried in sand, plastic spoons in freezer pops, and the big question of where the hell this whole loving-living thing is going anyway. The songs build up expectations like a delicious drink, which then, oops, gets taken away and never delivered. That’s how it is sometimes, you little puffball!

End of 2025, Blowjobs Are RealJobs dropped their first DIY tape, Bloody Situation Menstruation Masturbation. Their notorious sets, somewhere between performance art and riot gig, pop up almost monthly: gallery openings, summer garden chaos, or grimy St. Pauli basement bars. Now the duo’s first 7-inch vinyl brings 5 songs at 45 rpm with a fold-out cover, limited to 200 copies.

To decay is also to transform. Rusting metal is the visible traces of passing time, as the oxidation process accumulates dampness in our atmosphere and imprints it as unpredictable patterns onto hard iron and steel. Working in construction for a year now, Kensho Nakamura sees rust all the time, clambering up ageing chunks of material. Normally discarded as waste, Nakamura began discerning beauty in the phenomenon, organically spiralling around and consuming some of the very hardest of manufacturing stuffs into unique new forms.

‘Electric Rust’ continues the conceptual electronic composition mode of Nakamura’s previous works with a series of fractured musical dioramas. These scurrying notes, sparse hums, and quivering bleeps explore the topics of rust and the accumulation of time. The music ticks like a clock, drips like a tap, and manifests unknowable inorganic shapes. Recognisable musical snippets of bells, pianos, or murmured voices are buried inside counterintuitive synthetic rhythms and tension.

On ‘wet air’ piano notes tinkle and pipes gargle, digital detritus tap dances and arpeggios stumble. On ‘unique faces’, idle marimbas and malfunctioning animalistic squeaks flounder. This is music from the promethean space between being forgotten and being conceived. ‘Electric Rust’ is a topography of a world of rust, where corroding structures evolve into new — and beautiful — patterns of life.

Across an extensive suite of enchanting miniatures, Matthias Kremsreiter and Christian Schoppik present the hypnagogic vision of Taghelle Nacht. Recording under their respective Roudi Vagou and Läuten der Seele aliases, Kremsreiter and Schoppik combine their distinct but equally accomplished instrumental practices into a new collaboration that weaves swooning samples amongst instrumental passages. They lead us through 16 vignettes that revel in the cognitive dissonance and seductive magic of moonlight at midnight.

Both artists have past form within the folds of contemporary experimental electronic music in Germany. Kremsreiter's work as alibikonkret has manifested on DIY tape releases created with a methodical, technically-minded approach. Debuting his Roudi Vagou pseudonym on Taghelle Nacht, he pivots to a more playful, instinctively felt method that allows the compositions to flow with a natural cadence. Schoppik has been a key figure in the celebrated dark-ambient-folk scene, not least as part of the group Brannten Schnüre. His work as Läuten der Seele includes the acclaimed 'water trilogy' of LPs between 2022 and 2024, with a greater emphasis on instrumental, atmospheric production, and a last, stunning collaborative album with Nový Sv?t's Jota Solo.

On Taghelle Nacht the precise ingredients of each piece soften at the edges as tape loops and swathes of reverb seal the joints between spellbinding melodic refrains. Opening track and lead single 'Gleisende Lichter' sets the tone with ghostly murmurs, spine-tingling string refrains and splashes of cymbal that cut through the gloom with stark clarity. A lilting romanticism stirs at the heart of the orchestral samples that populate the likes of "Grenzu?berschreitung" - old-world beauty sometimes buried in dust, elsewhere rendered with startling clarity. 'So Süß' lets buzzing, sustained drones and dissonant sweeps of extended technique glide in and out of each other. Granular processing subtly breaks apart the mellow swell on 'Komischer Anruf', and forlorn sax calls out into heavy-hearted space on 'Glaskopf Mit Watte'. At every turn a new scene is painted, distinct from the last and yet all bound up in the pervasive, pale blue light cast over the sleeping landscape Kremsreiter and Schoppik have sculpted.

Snatches of song drift by like dreamlike fragments, and achingly tender flourishes fleetingly appear and retreat - ideas and expressions momentarily caught in the light before retreating into the shadows once more. This is the evocative world of Taghelle Nacht - an unsettling depiction of the surreal blend of memories and imagination that merge into each other once the sun goes down.

Jagged City unveils their debut instrumental EP, `There Are More of Us, Always`, a bold collection that moves between spacious, melodic guitar passages and raucous, swelling climbs. With heartfelt, melodious songwriting, a diverse range of eclectic touches buried within, and eruptions of dense, layered sound, this record delivers wonderfully balanced compositions through raw and personal production. The project began as a cross-continental art experiment between Jake Woodruff (Defeater) and Carlos Torres (former touring member of Explosions In The Sky). What started as a simple exchange of ideas quickly found real shape through collaborative composition and thoughtful arrangement. Early sessions with David Haik helped refine the songs' structures and drum frameworks, setting the groundwork for what would become Jagged City's striking debut. "We wrote with pure instinct, just tried to add something new to a genre that we love. As we traded ideas, we took some left turns and incorporated elements that may be unexpected." (Woodruff) The result feels immediate, deviously rough at the edges, and charged with a punk-minded intensity that keeps the momentum taut and the sound intimate. RIYL Mogwai, Do Make Say Think, Godspeed, Mono, Defeater, Explosions In The Sky

Jagged City unveils their debut instrumental EP, `There Are More of Us, Always`, a bold collection that moves between spacious, melodic guitar passages and raucous, swelling climbs. With heartfelt, melodious songwriting, a diverse range of eclectic touches buried within, and eruptions of dense, layered sound, this record delivers wonderfully balanced compositions through raw and personal production. The project began as a cross-continental art experiment between Jake Woodruff (Defeater) and Carlos Torres (former touring member of Explosions In The Sky). What started as a simple exchange of ideas quickly found real shape through collaborative composition and thoughtful arrangement. Early sessions with David Haik helped refine the songs' structures and drum frameworks, setting the groundwork for what would become Jagged City's striking debut. "We wrote with pure instinct, just tried to add something new to a genre that we love. As we traded ideas, we took some left turns and incorporated elements that may be unexpected." (Woodruff) The result feels immediate, deviously rough at the edges, and charged with a punk-minded intensity that keeps the momentum taut and the sound intimate. RIYL Mogwai, Do Make Say Think, Godspeed, Mono, Defeater, Explosions In The Sky

A meditative, folk-inflected score rooted in improvisation, ‘Dragon’s return’ echoes the soul of A film long buried behind the Iron Curtain



With Dragon’s Return, Australian composer and multi-instrumentalist Oren Ambarchi and Norwegian guitarist Fredrik Rasten present a new, meditative score to Eduard Grecner’s eponymous 1967 Slovak cult film — a stark, black-and-white parable.



The album captures a unique live performance recorded at the Videodroom Festival during Film Fest Ghent in October 2024, where this new score premiered alongside the film in collaboration with the Slovak Film Institute. What began as a fleeting, improvisational encounter between music and image has since taken on a life of its own — an evocative sound world that retains its power even in the absence of visuals.



The album will be available on vinyl and all digital platforms from September 12 via VIERNULVIER Records. The vinyl edition includes an obi strip, a booklet with film stills, and extensive liner notes on the film.



The label is known for shedding new light on forgotten films through reimagined soundtracks — claire rousay’s acclaimed The Bloody Lady being the most recent example.


“Folklore meets avant-garde in an ancient drama - a ballad about love, hate and finding a way out of loneliness” - Rastislav Steranka (Slovak Film Institute)



Ambarchi and Rasten do not accompany the images so much as speak through them. Their interplay — on guitars, flutes, percussion, and voice — unfolds slowly, without a fixed destination, culminating in subtle, entrancing drones. With few breaks or ruptures, this trippy, folk-inflected continuous composition invites surrender.



Rasten’s 12-string guitar and delicate use of voice create layered textures that shimmer and shift. Ambarchi, known for his electro-acoustic work, here explores a radically softer mode — strumming, bowing and coaxing tones from his instrument as though it were a string section unto itself. He blows into shells, adding breath and texture to the sonic palette, touching on something elemental.


Together, they evoke a sound world that feels both ritualistic and strangely familiar — as if echoing from a forgotten ceremony or dreamed into being after hearing an old folk tale. Rooted in improvisation, the music speaks in tones both intimate and expansive, shaped live in dialogue with the film and with each other, with only minimal overdubs added afterward.

2LP, 9mm spine gatefold sleeve with silver hot foil & metallic inks. Printed inner sleeves. Engraving on Side D, the vinyl here is of silvery colour. Pelagic reissued THE OCEAN's 2010 albums "Heliocentric" and "Anthropocentric" on vinyl! "Heliocentric" was the first album with current vocalist Loïc Rossetti, a game changer in the band's history. The album is characterized by his shimmering cleans alongside abrasive, powerful screams. "Heliocentric" sees the band venture into calmer territories as compared to its predecessors: the album is defined not solely by walls of guitars, but also by careful orchestrations of piano, upright bass, strings and textural electronics. Conceptually "Heliocentric" is a comprehensive critique of the legacy of christianity: the iconic opening track "Firmament", still a fan's favourite, starts off with original text from the bible; while "Ptolemy Was Wrong" and "Catharsis of A Heretic" tackle Gallilei's and Copernicus' discoveries that Earth is not at the center of the universe, for which Giordano Bruno was burnt at the stake. The album concludes with Charles Darwin's theory of evolution, and considerations by Richard Dawkins', the spearhead of modern day's aetheism, in the epic 14 minutes closing track duality "The Origin Of Species" and "The Origin Of God". For fans of BREACH TOOL THRICE NINE INCH NAILS CULT OF LUNA ISIS KARNIVOOL ROSETTA RUSSIAN CIRCLES MONO MASTODON OPETH BETWEEN THE BURIED AND ME PINK FLOYD

Reissued blue (!) vinyl! The "centrics"-albums saw the introduction of current vocalist Loïc Rossetti to the band's lineup, a game changer in their 17 years history. "Anthropocentric" is heavier than its same-year predecessor "Heliocentric", with the crushing 15-minutes openening track duality "The Grand Inquisitor" part I and II and following track "She Was The Universe", one of the most-streamed THE OCEAN tracks to date, setting the bar high for the rest of the album. Since 2001, the Berlin-based musician collective THE OCEAN have released 7 critically acclaimed studio albums, and a split EP with Japanese post-rock legends Mono. With an ever-changing lineup of various on- and off-stage musicians and visual artists, the relentlessly touring group have become well known for their immense, mind-expanding live shows, which they have carried into the most remote corners of the globe, from Siberian squats to colonial theatres in Ecuador. Over the course of their storied career, THE OCEAN have toured with Opeth, Mastodon, Mono,The Dillinger Escape Plan, Anathema, Between The Buried And Me and Devin Townsend, and have appeared on major festivals including Roskilde, Dour, Pukkelpop, Roadburn, Wacken, With Full Force, Summer Slaughter, Summer Breeze and Graspop. pn: this is coloured double vinyl, the stickersays Golden, but in fact it's Blue (Gold).

RAW, RUTHLESS AND CEREMONIALLY DARK!

Only two years after its inception in 2023, the ominous entity hailing from Germany has come up with their first full-length. Consisting of 6 songs with the first one being an instrumental intro, "Fiery Paths" is a very convincing effort on all levels. Notwithstanding the fact INFERNAL PRESENCE has only been active for 2 years, their hybrid of Black and Death Metal sounds as if it had been composed by a seasoned band. Unlike many outfits whose songs consist of a salad of riffs randomly thrown together, INFERNAL PRESENCE are apt at cleverly composing their material by frequently alternating between different tempi and moods. Fast tremolo picked riffs akin to DISSECTION or MAYHEM are alternated with palm muted Thrash riffs or atmospheric slow-paced arpeggios reminding of WATAIN or ONDSKAPT.

In so doing the two-piece creates dynamic songs that succeed in truly capturing the listener's attention. Just listen to standout tracks like "Eternal Exodus" or the exceptional "Tomb Procession" with its slithering groove and you will see our point proven. Although, only sharing certain musical elements with said bands, the suffocating atmosphere of "Fiery Paths" reminds of NEGATIVE PLANE's first album or early SECRETS OF THE MOON. Fortunately, the production fits the material just splendidly, too. While being gritty and raw, thus emphasising the album’s ferociousness, it's still polished enough so that no detail gets buried in the mix.

INFERNAL PRESENCE unleashed a record suffused with unrelenting darkness! If you consider yourself a fan of some of the bands mentioned above, do yourself a favour and listen to this beast of an album!

Autodidactic musicologist and sample collagist U turned his archival eye on the melting pot of ‘80s post-punk with his debut ‘Life Isn’t A Fountain?’ EP for Lex. He follows up with an experimental exploration of regional identity with ARCHENFIELD, a deeply personal collection of ambient music and found sound that examines the relationship between geographical space and aural histories.

To construct this record U mined a wealth of recorded material relevant to the area. With a nod to traditional music, he takes samples from these records and creates beautifully atmospheric sound pieces that are often mixed with painstakingly researched snippets to create a stirring reflection on local history and broader themes of how we interact, or even fail to interact, with English folklore today.

Pressed on 180g vinyl, the album comes with a 24-page visual companion that expands on its themes and folk stories through imagery and narrative, echoing the album’s soundscape. : The Caretaker, Oneohtrix Point Never, JG Bie1berkopf, Maxime Denuc, Leon Vynehall

Heavyweight Dub album by Alien Trackers, a new project by cosmic trumpet specialist Pablo Volt (STA) and Jahtari space ship mechanic disrupt, landing right in the sweet spot between soulful Black Ark-warmth, digital Firehouse dancehall hitters and Jahtarian Dub psychedelics.

A lazy day at a beach, in a galaxy far, far away... Feel the sand between your tentacles and splash in the emerald acid sea. Snorkel with plasma squids and shock eels. Marvel at the double suns during the magic twilight cycle and bask in their glorious gamma rays. Gaze into the depths of the local Vortex...

Coming on alien-green vinyl, with hand drawn art by David 8000 Farris, additional bass & guitars from Dubsworth, and an all four thumbs up-rating, 'Dubs from Vortex Beach' is landing in your orbit right now!
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Returning with its final instalments, Die Schachtel's Decay Music series extends its explorations of inspired contemporary experimental efforts of the ambient, ethereal, and emotively abstract with Luigi Turra and Elio Martusciello’s “Liminale” and Sergio Armaroli and David Toop’s “And I Entered Into Sleep”, two astounding electroacoustic gestures of blurred space and time, plumbing complexity of meaning bound to sonority. Creatively groundbreaking and inspired, radically rethinking the terms of what ambient music can be perceived to be, they stand among the most striking efforts to appear within the series to date.

An aural bridge between two distinct generations of Italian experimental musicians, “Liminale” is the debut collaborative outing from the creative partnership of Luigi Turra and Elio Martusciello. Active within the context for roughly two decades, Turra (b. 1975) is a reductionist/electroacoustic composer, noted from his tense deployment of concrete and acoustic sources — particularly small sounds and noises — whose work threads the balance between silence, tactile auditory perception, and aleatoric music. Martusciello (b. 1959), on the other hand, is a musician and composer working across the fields of acousmatic and electroacoustic composition, sound installation, multi-media and audiovisual art, and computer music improvisation, who is widely celebrated for both his solo efforts and his collaborations with Eugene Chadbourne, Mike Cooper, Alvin Curran, Chris Cutler, Rhodri Davies, Iancu Dumitrescu, Michel Godard, Tim Hodgkinson, Lawrence D. "Butch" Morris, Jérôme Noetinger, Tony Oxley, Evan Parker, Z'EV, and others.

A single, nearly 40 minute work, extending across the two sides of the LP, “Liminale” — as its title eludes — is an exploration of the liminal through sonic means: “places that exist on the threshold, transitional spaces suspended between a before and an after, between the real and the evanescent” conceiving the soundscape as “a liminal place, a space to be inhabited without the certainty of where it leads.” Unfurling like a labyrinth navigated in darkness, the piece’s first half is marked by sparseness and restraint, as slow-paced guitar tones and harmonics thread silences and resonant ambience within a sprawling sense of space, delicately populated by tiny sounds, fleeting punctuations drawn from undeterminable sources, vocal utterances, and the unexpected appearance of intoxicating piano tones.

As “Liminale” progresses into its second half, Turra and Martusciello enter a more densely populated notion of the in between. No less defined by the presence of space and mystery, discreet textures rustle and writhe within passages of pure concrete abstraction and a fragmented, stretched sense of musicality: long-tones, metallic pulses, minimal vibrations, processed vocalizations, guitar harmonics, and deconstructed piano melodies, buried in spectral, gauzy hazes drifting from beyond arm’s reach within an imagistic and immersive landscape of profoundly meditative scope, where each sonic element flirts the line between emergence and disappearance.

Intimate, fragile, and achingly beautiful, “Liminale”, Luigi Turra and Elio Martusciello’s debut collaboration, is a masterstroke in sound-craft and composition, revealing the potency of meaning locked within transitional spaces and the undefined, and imbuing silence with monumental gravity and weight. Mastered for vinyl by Giuseppe Ielasi, and taking electroacoustic minimalism to an etherial extreme, “Liminale” is issued as the ninth entry in Die Schachtel’s Decay Music series, highlighting inspired contemporary experimental efforts of the ambient, ethereal, and emotively abstract.

Erik K Skodvin summons his alter ego Svarte Greiner for a dive into the dark, wintery Swedish forest with the score to the psychological thriller/horror film “From Darkness” (orig: Ur Mörkret).

The film is director Philip W. Da Silva's debut and is set largely at night, deep in a Swedish nature reserve where mining used to take place. Loss, mental health and Nordic mythology come together in a story that revolves around the search for a missing woman. The score follows an eclectic and atmospherical path throughout the narrative with an uneasy underlaying vibe; although one with occasional points of refuge in the otherwise vast darkness. There is a gloomy, barely tangible sound of Nordic folk tradition buried in the music, even if it comes across in a different, more abstract way, where the various instruments are often used more as sound sources that are improvised (and abused) into becoming their own element. Skodvin performed and recorded the majority himself. In addition, he commissioned free improviser Axel Dörner to participate with his unique, custom-built electro-acoustic interface, which, along with Claudio Puntin's processed reeds and additional electronics, has been built into the elaborate backdrops to create an entire world that balances on the border between the approachable and the elusive - not unlike the journey of the protagonists. Skodvin's partner in Deaf Center, Otto A Totland, appears on piano in the stand out piece “What have you become?”.

The result is a harrowing yet deeply melancholic journey through the human psyche. One that echoes through the dark forests, cabins and lost mines of the desolate Swedish woodlands.

“It is presumed that as humans mined ore in the 1800s, they had many mishaps and dug too deep, leading them to assume they had unleashed some evil spirit that was guarding the ore. She was referred to as "Cave Wraith". It was said that she employed darkness to lure miners to their deaths. They prohibited villagers from visiting during the darkest months of the year. Some used sacrifices to subdue the evil entity.”

The vinyl is released in an edition of 150 numbered copies, with screenprinted artwork on black cardboard inside a screenprinted PVC sleeve, incl. Riso-printed insert with liner notes by Mike Lazarev, 180g vinyl.

Los Angeles trio Faetooth sophomore album Labyrinthine is a deeply felt exploration of emotional weight: grief, memory, uncertainty, and the quiet work of growing around your own wounds. Following the band's 2022 debut Remnants of the Vessel, which introduced the band’s signature blend of heaviness and mysticism, Labyrinthine pushes further inward. True to its name, the album winds through a maze of feeling and form, where meaning is never handed over easily. It’s rooted in self-discovery through disorientation, the idea that understanding comes not from escape, but from getting lost. Ari May (guitars and vocals), Jenna Garcia (bass and vocals), and Rah Kanan (drums) manage to stay grounded in the immediate in parallel with fantasy themes of the band's namesake. Labyrinthine holds space for this contradiction; tenderness and intensity, restraint and release. The band's self-branded “fairy doom” sound fits between shoegaze, doom, and grunge. It isn’t just texture; it’s a framework for navigating the unsaid. Like the myth that inspired its title, Labyrinthine doesn’t end in victory, but in confrontation—not with escape, but with the Minotaur. Only here, the Minotaur isn’t a monster. It’s something quiet and more familiar: unresolved feelings, old memories, and sadness that refuse to stay buried. The album winds like a maze, sometimes heavy, sometimes hushed, always intentional. Faetooth isn’t chasing catharsis. They’re creating space to reflect, to feel, and maybe to get a little lost along the way.
Artist quote: "White Noise" emerged from a diary entry, and is a relentless and intense reflection on inner turmoil. We’re often drawn to the familiar, even when we don’t realize we’re reaching out for it. It is an emotional upheaval, carrying harsh truths that weigh heavily on the heart. Guitarist, Ari May mentions, “Performing the song always takes me back to a specific place, even if just for a moment.”
“Riffs and melodies brimming with loneliness and longing… this band’s incantations affect my mood the whole day after listening.” — The Sleeping Shaman
“Bringing otherworldly hazy doom goodness… dreamy clean vocals, echoing harsh vocals, entrancing riffs, meditative shoegaze melodies.” — Nine Circles
“Slow, lumbering behemoths of great weight… couched in a melancholy atmosphere and explosions of crushing heaviness.” - Where Strides The Behemoth

Los Angeles trio Faetooth sophomore album Labyrinthine is a deeply felt exploration of emotional weight: grief, memory, uncertainty, and the quiet work of growing around your own wounds. Following the band's 2022 debut Remnants of the Vessel, which introduced the band’s signature blend of heaviness and mysticism, Labyrinthine pushes further inward. True to its name, the album winds through a maze of feeling and form, where meaning is never handed over easily. It’s rooted in self-discovery through disorientation, the idea that understanding comes not from escape, but from getting lost. Ari May (guitars and vocals), Jenna Garcia (bass and vocals), and Rah Kanan (drums) manage to stay grounded in the immediate in parallel with fantasy themes of the band's namesake. Labyrinthine holds space for this contradiction; tenderness and intensity, restraint and release. The band's self-branded “fairy doom” sound fits between shoegaze, doom, and grunge. It isn’t just texture; it’s a framework for navigating the unsaid. Like the myth that inspired its title, Labyrinthine doesn’t end in victory, but in confrontation—not with escape, but with the Minotaur. Only here, the Minotaur isn’t a monster. It’s something quiet and more familiar: unresolved feelings, old memories, and sadness that refuse to stay buried. The album winds like a maze, sometimes heavy, sometimes hushed, always intentional. Faetooth isn’t chasing catharsis. They’re creating space to reflect, to feel, and maybe to get a little lost along the way.
Artist quote: "White Noise" emerged from a diary entry, and is a relentless and intense reflection on inner turmoil. We’re often drawn to the familiar, even when we don’t realize we’re reaching out for it. It is an emotional upheaval, carrying harsh truths that weigh heavily on the heart. Guitarist, Ari May mentions, “Performing the song always takes me back to a specific place, even if just for a moment.”
“Riffs and melodies brimming with loneliness and longing… this band’s incantations affect my mood the whole day after listening.” — The Sleeping Shaman
“Bringing otherworldly hazy doom goodness… dreamy clean vocals, echoing harsh vocals, entrancing riffs, meditative shoegaze melodies.” — Nine Circles
“Slow, lumbering behemoths of great weight… couched in a melancholy atmosphere and explosions of crushing heaviness.” - Where Strides The Behemoth

Los Angeles trio Faetooth sophomore album Labyrinthine is a deeply felt exploration of emotional weight: grief, memory, uncertainty, and the quiet work of growing around your own wounds. Following the band's 2022 debut Remnants of the Vessel, which introduced the band’s signature blend of heaviness and mysticism, Labyrinthine pushes further inward. True to its name, the album winds through a maze of feeling and form, where meaning is never handed over easily. It’s rooted in self-discovery through disorientation, the idea that understanding comes not from escape, but from getting lost. Ari May (guitars and vocals), Jenna Garcia (bass and vocals), and Rah Kanan (drums) manage to stay grounded in the immediate in parallel with fantasy themes of the band's namesake. Labyrinthine holds space for this contradiction; tenderness and intensity, restraint and release. The band's self-branded “fairy doom” sound fits between shoegaze, doom, and grunge. It isn’t just texture; it’s a framework for navigating the unsaid. Like the myth that inspired its title, Labyrinthine doesn’t end in victory, but in confrontation—not with escape, but with the Minotaur. Only here, the Minotaur isn’t a monster. It’s something quiet and more familiar: unresolved feelings, old memories, and sadness that refuse to stay buried. The album winds like a maze, sometimes heavy, sometimes hushed, always intentional. Faetooth isn’t chasing catharsis. They’re creating space to reflect, to feel, and maybe to get a little lost along the way.
Artist quote: "White Noise" emerged from a diary entry, and is a relentless and intense reflection on inner turmoil. We’re often drawn to the familiar, even when we don’t realize we’re reaching out for it. It is an emotional upheaval, carrying harsh truths that weigh heavily on the heart. Guitarist, Ari May mentions, “Performing the song always takes me back to a specific place, even if just for a moment.”
“Riffs and melodies brimming with loneliness and longing… this band’s incantations affect my mood the whole day after listening.” — The Sleeping Shaman
“Bringing otherworldly hazy doom goodness… dreamy clean vocals, echoing harsh vocals, entrancing riffs, meditative shoegaze melodies.” — Nine Circles
“Slow, lumbering behemoths of great weight… couched in a melancholy atmosphere and explosions of crushing heaviness.” - Where Strides The Behemoth

Chickasha, Oklahoma is not a place known for producing a lot of original proto-punk bands. In fact, there is, to our knowledge, only one: Debris'. Formed in 1975 by bassist Chuck Ivey, guitarist Oliver "Rectomo" Powers and drummer Johnny Gregg, the trio created some of the most art-damaged outsider rock 'n' roll this side of MX-80 Sound.

When a local studio offered the package deal of ten hours for recording and mixing as well as pressing 1,000 LPs and two-color jackets, Debris' came in well-rehearsed – nailing all eleven of their songs in just one take. In April 1976, the same month as Ramones' debut album, Debris' would release their lone record onto the world.

Opener "One Way Spit" could easily be mistaken for a lost KBD single – from Chuck's bizarre count-in to the band's trashy start-stop rhythms, unfurling a Dadaist flag around Johnny's visceral vocals. On "Tricia," a reference to the then-current Patty Hearst trial, Oliver's gruesome groans are sardonically juxtaposed with an electric saw. These LSD-tinged tunes are a potent mix of Beefheart-ian controlled chaos and the genuinely weird avant-rock associated with the mid-'70s Cleveland scene.

Enhanced by analog synthesizers and electronic effects, the album sounds like Eno-era Roxy Music or Stooges' Fun House buried deep in the red Oklahoma dirt. While punk would spark a handful of bands who boldly straddled the line between the primal and the experimental, the relatively unsung Debris' were one of the first to do so.

Debris' had a standing invitation to play New York at Max's Kansas City and CBGB in 1976, although they never made it out of Oklahoma. The private-press edition of their self-titled album (also known as Static Disposal, which was actually the label name printed on the original front cover) has since become a collector's item and is even namechecked on the infamous NWW list.

If anyone knows how to roll with the punches, it’s Travis Roberts. At 24, the Texas songwriter has already battled addiction, buried friends, and been so broke he couldn’t put a roof over his head. Hell, he even joined an underground fight club just to pay for studio time.

“Whoever won the fights took home the lion’s share of the money,” he explains, “but even if you lost, you made something. I lost a lot, but I got what I needed out of it.”

It should be no surprise, then, that Roberts comes out swinging on his blistering debut, Rebel Rose. Recorded with Roberts’ longtime live band, The Willing Few, the album fuses earnest country storytelling with rowdy rock and roll energy as it blurs the lines between roots, punk, folk, and power pop. The writing is raw and visceral here, built on gritty portraits of working-class underdogs just trying to get by, and the performances are nothing short of explosive, propelled by a relentless rhythm section, searing guitars, and infectious melodic hooks. The result is an exhilarating album that defies easy categorization, an alternately bruising and triumphant reflection on growing up, getting clean, and giving it your all from an artist who’s taken more than his fair share of hits.

Every fighter knows, it doesn’t matter how many times you get knocked down. All that matters is how many times you get back up

Congratulations, Electro connoisseur! You are about to enter the Electrifying Dojo. A place where Sifu pdqb and Sensei Rolando teach a transcendental, one-of-a-kind neo-futuristic martial art that does not use hands but something far more delicate and powerful: MUSIC.

Blending martial discipline with the art of electronic music is something deeper, something that no words can properly describe. The skills you will be taught here are feeling music, embodying it. pdqb and Rolando believe that true harmony comes when the mind, body, and soul are united in the sounds that vibrate through the air.

The sounds of this first lesson are soft at first, almost imperceptible. But then they grow into a delicate, trembling melody that fills the room with an emotion that is difficult to place. It isn’t sadness, nor is it joy, but something in between. The more you listen, the more you will be aware of something strange: tears will fall gently, silently. They are not forced, nor are they out of sorrow - it is simply because the music feels so beautiful. Your deepest emotions will be triggered, every note will carry out an old truth, a secret truth, buried deep in your heart.

Another quality drop from Synaptic Cliffs. 4 dark and beautiful signature-style Electrocognition journeys from pdqb, playful with a modern twist while still remaining loyal to its roots. And on the flipside: two stunning, classic Rolando remixes, each with the potential to be the crowning moment in the club.

Khadim is a stunning reconfiguration of the Ndagga Rhythm Force sound. The instrumentation is radically pared down. The guitar is gone; the concatenation of sabars; the drum-kit. Each of the four tracks hones in on just one or two drummers; otherwise the sole recorded element is the singing; everything else is programmed. Synths are dialogically locked into the drumming. Tellingly, Ernestus has reached for his beloved Prophet-5, a signature go-to since Basic Channel days, thirty years ago. Texturally, the sound is more dubwise; prickling with effects. There is a new spaciousness, announced at the start by the ambient sounds of Dakar street-life. At the microphone, Mbene Diatta Seck revels in this new openness: mbalax diva, she feelingly turns each of the four songs into a discrete dramatic episode, using different sets of rhetorical techniques. The music throughout is taut, grooving, complex, like before; but more volatile, intuitive and reaching, with turbulent emotional and spiritual expressivity.

Not that Khadim represents any kind of break. Its transformativeness is rooted in the hundreds upon hundreds of hours the Rhythm Force has played together. Nearly a decade has passed since Yermande, the unit's previous album. Every year throughout that period — barring lockdowns — the group has toured extensively, in Europe, the US, and Japan. With improvisation at the core of its music-making, each performance has been evolutionary, as it turns out heading towards Khadim. “I didn’t want to simply continue with the same formula," says Ernestus. “I preferred to wait for a new approach. Playing live so many times, I wanted to capture some of the energy and freedom of those performances.” Though several members of the touring ensemble sit out this recording — sabar drummers, kit-drummer, synth-player — their presence abides in the structure and swing of the music here.

Lamp Fall is a homage to Cheikh Ibra Fall, founder of the Baye Fall spiritual community. The mosque in the city of Touba is known as Lamp Fall, because the main tower resembles a lantern. Soy duggu Touba, moom guey séen / When you enter Touba, he is the one who greets you. After a swift, incantatory start Mbene sings with reflective seriousness. Her voice swirls with reverb, over a tight, funky, propulsive interplay between synth and drums, threaded with one-two jabs of bass. Cheikh Ibra Fall mi may way, mo diayndiou ré, la mu jëndé ko taalibe... Cheikh Ibra Fall amo morome, aboridial / Cheikh Ibra Fall shows the way forward, he gives us strength, he gathers his disciples... Overflowing with grace, Cheikh Ibra Fall has no equal.

Interwoven with Wolof proverbs, Dieuw Bakhul is a recriminatory song about treachery, lies, and back-biting. Over moody, roiling synths and ominous, lean bass, Mbene throws out fluttering scraps of vocal, as if re-running old conversations in her head. The music shadows her despair to the verge of breakdown, at one moment seemingly so lost in thought and memories, that it threatens to disintegrate. Bayilene di wor seen xarit ak seen an da ndo... Dieuw bakhul, dieuw ñaw na / Stop judging your friends and companions... A lie is no good, a lie is ugly.

Khadim is a show-stopper; currently the centrepiece of Ndagga Rhythm Force live performances. The song is dedicated to Cheikh Ahmadou Bamba, aka Khadim, founder of the Mouride Sufi order. Serigne Bamba mi may wayeu / Serigne Bamba is the one who makes me sing. The verses name-check revered members of his family and brotherhood, like Sokhna Diarra, Mame Thierno, and Serigne Bara. Though Islam has been practised in Senegal for a millennium, it wasn’t until the start of the twentieth century that it began to thoroughly permeate ordinary Senegalese society, hand-in-hand with anti-colonialism. The verses here recall Bamba’s banishment by the French to Gabon, and later to Mauritania, in those foundational times. During exile, his captors once introduced a lion to his cell: gaïnde gua waf, dieba lu ci Cheikhoul Khadim / the lion doesn’t budge, it gives itself over to Cheikh Khadim. Deep, surging bass, steady kick-drum, and simple, reverbed chords on the off-beat lend the feel and impetus of steppers reggae. A reed plays snatches of a traditional Baye Fall melody; the dazzling polyrhythmic drumming is by Serigne Mamoune Seck. Mbene compellingly blends percussive vocalese, narrative suspense, exultant praise, introspection, and grievance.

Nimzat is a devotional tribute to Cheikh Sadbou, a contemporary of Bamba, buried in a mausoleum in Nizmat, in southern Mauritania. Way nala, kagne nala... souma danana fata dale / I call upon you and wonder about you... If I am overwhelmed, come to my aid. The town holds special significance for Khadr Sufism. An annual pilgrimage there is conducted to this day. The rhythm is buoyantly funky; the mood is sombre, reined-in, foreboding. Punctuated by peals of thunder, Mbene sings with restrained, intense reverence; huskily confidential, steadfast. Nanu dem ba Nimzat, dé ba sali khina / Let us go to Nimzat, to seal our devotion.

Mbene Diatta Seck: vocals.
Bada Seck: bougarabou, thiol, mbeung mbeung bal, tungune.
Serigne Mamoune Seck: bougarabou, khine, mbeung mbeung, tungune.
Text by Mark Ainley (Honest Jons).
Mastered by Rashad Becker.
Everything else by Mark Ernestus.

I must admit to being a sucker for two-guitar bands. Ok, Hendrix pulled off a trio. But I don’t care what anybody says: The Yardbirds were a better band than anything that came out of them (Ok, maybe not Zep. But Cream?).

Maybe the reason I go back so far in my references is that, within the two-guitar band format, original new roles are difficult and rare. There’s the classic (socially problematic and often boring) “rhythm/lead” solution. There’s the JB’s or Nile Rodgers’ chicken pickin’ vs comping solution (which avoids chordal clashes by relegating one of the guitars to the role of single-note percussion instrument). There’s Ornette’s Prime Time division between Bern Nix’s rolled-off “jazz” tone and Charles Ellerbee’s trebly wah. Almost everything else is a variation on one of these.


In Ches Smith’s record Clone Row, each piece is built around a different concept for guitar interaction. The delightful and gifted weirdness of Mary Halvorson’s playing is counterpointed, contrasted, unisoned with, played off, juxtaposed (that is to say, enters every relationship possible) with Liberty Ellman’s equally amazing sound palette, chops, and imagination. This definitely ain’t your father’s guitar band.
The overall vibe of the record—despite Halvorson’s occasional noise outbursts or Ellman’s distorted guitar lines (see Mixed Fridge) is neither punk/funk, nor Zorn-ish metal—and certainly not the looser parameters of Ornette’s improvised harmolodics. Smith’s vibraphone playing, Halvorson’s guitar tone (whammy pedal squiggles aside), the brilliant electronics, and (most of all) the compositions themselves are somehow strangely West Coast cool. It’s as if I’m hearing a Jim Hall concert in which one of us did a lot of mushrooms, or (dare I write this?) some post-punk post-Dave Brubeck post-trip-hop experiment with classical form.

This recording is, most of all, about Ches as composer. He’s picked up a lot on his long, strange trip of the last few decades. The Haitian funkiness of his work with We All Break is audible—but deeply buried, encoded in the polyrhythms (check out Heart Breakthrough). His long-running side musician collaborations with John Zorn and Tim Berne are also evident but sublimated here into something new.

Not that improvising is absent. Check out the compelling collective statements in Sustained Nightmare and Ready Beat. Check out the brilliant interplay and bass soloing on Abrade With Me (a Weather Report for the age of extreme weather?) Nick Dunston is my favorite bassist of the new generation, and he plays brilliantly throughout. And Ches’ drumming here has all the groove, energy, and incredible range that have kept him in demand from Saturday night Vodou services to jazz and new music recording sessions (…the thinking man’s rock barbarian?).
The sus chords in Abrade With Me do build, for a moment, towards a fusion type of climax...but just at the moment I was gritting my teeth in anticipated defense against some horrible synth solo, the drums drop out, and we’re transported to the ambient lounge at the rave, and we suddenly understand we’re in the hands of a composer with the power to transport us just about anywhere.
So, this is a composer’s record most of all; a composer’s record performed by musicians who happen to be great improvisers. Ches Smith builds here on his reputation as a gifted new voice with an important vision, while showcasing some of the most creative musicians of our time.

Man was meant to replace God as the universal measure. The events of the 20th and 21st centuries, however, have brutalized the creature once known as Man beyond recognition. There is no going back. We are left with an erased image, a misnomer-a sacred animal wasting away in a profane world. Man is both insufficient and irreplaceable. Man Under Erasure is a musical exploration of this new, uncertain universe, where the last remnants of humanist hopes and dreams have been reduced to embers-barely legible carvings etched into eroding earth. Our trust in ourselves has been misplaced. Everything we ever knew will be erased. Feversea is a post-metal band from Oslo, Norway drawing on influences from black metal, sludge metal and shoegaze. Their music lies in the intersection of fast black'n'roll ferocity, heavy and fierce metal riffage and ritualistic and ethereal soundscapes. Musically, their debut album Man Under Erasure draws from various forms of metal while incorporating influences from neofolk and post-punk. The album is melancholic, despairing, and cathartic. Haunting and melodic while maintaining a strong sense of structure with recognizable riffs-an element often lacking in atmosphere-driven music. Fluctuating between song and scream, the voice is both from beyond and from below. Lyrically, it is deeply personal but delivered through impersonal images, parables, and riddles-like a spiritualist or Orphic medium carrying messages from beyond. A muffled scream buried under several inches of ice. The album begins in sardonic despair and ends with uneasy, desperate acceptance.

Haggerston-based production wizard Jeigo kicks off the year after a standout 2024 by serving his own label Fleurella Records' first release. For the occasion, he reissues his track 'Pearl Leaf' which sits in between the worlds of Bicep, Sasha and UKG. It has floating pads and airy, organic beats that carry you away on a melancholic mood with deeply buried vocals adding a blurry, heart-tugging hook. On the flip are two new and unheard jams. 'Headpains' is full of a flurry of breaks but is also laden with introspective emotion in the vocals and chords and 'The Days You Were Here' is a more downtempo cut with shimmering pads, pitched-up vocals and languid bass.

Each of the ten tracks on "mixtape suite" is likely to evoke such absurd associations in music lovers. The album authentically and unpredictably creates a feeling of total boundlessness with a global approach. Effortlessly uniting an entire record shop within itself. One time you think of Madlib or the Bee Gees, then of Joan Baez or Amon Düül, other times of Beck or Gorillaz. Between boom bap and Krautrock, disco styles, folk references and trip-hop vibes spread out organically. Analogue percussion blurs with 90s sampling sound aesthetics.
TIKHET sounds unplanned and anarchic, with a raw core and some well rounded patina on the outside.
1883 Magazin: "Keep an eye on this emerging act"

Mesmerized: "the project has all the elements needed for a powerful musical output..., an impressive debut for the visionary pair"
Indieshake: "Fucking love this"

The Crystal Hum is the debut vinyl release by Taiwan-based artist Yuching Huang and her first release for Night School.
A beguiling dreamscape of crackles, spluttering, love-struck Casios presided over by the the spectral vocal and guitar work of Huang, Yuching sings love songs at the end of this world and the beginning of the next. Recorded during a hiatus from her group Aemong (a duo with artist Henrique Uba) in Berlin, these songs elevate Huang’s unique vocal style and grasp of atmospherics. The Crystal Hum deconstructs balladry, Garage, guitar music and reforms it into a
unified ghostly otherworld version of these languages.

The Crystal Hum thrums with buried desire, trails of nocturnal reverb seeping out of apartment windows, diaristic vocal performances and deeply emotive, evocative Western-style strings. Formulated by Yuching Huang after periods of frustration and experimentation, the album is an exercise in minimalism and paring back, with some tracks like JohnJohn featuring little else than an elastic bass, spring reverb trails, an interjecting vocal and swelling, dislocated synths. The effect is spellbinding, the soundtrack to getting lost in the labyrinthine, closed streets of Venice, Taipei, Hong Kong, or mirror versions of them in the imagination.

On opener Fly! Little Black Thing, a subterranean funk bassline roots Huang’s singing, a rudimentary, unreliable beat floundering in whimsy underneath. Demure, dream Dance music, Huang references classic lo fi experimenters Suicide and Arthur Russell as well as Night School label mates The Space Lady and Ela Orleans. In fact, after the release of Aemong’s third album Crimson, Huang credits the direction of The Crystal Hum to being enchanted by The Space Lady’s Greatest Hits,
the landmark lo-fi recording made by Susan Dietrich Schneider in 1990. The new, minimalist approach to her sound world reveals and shrouds in equal measure. On the heart-melter Love, a sultry mid-tempo Casio + bass backing drops into the ether with Huang’s vocal swimming in preternatural void before emerging anew, in awe at the world. Every chord change heralds new perspectives, every guitar flurry swells and drips emotion, nothing is wasted and space billows out from between the grooves.
Huang never reveals more than necessary, making this an in-between love album: the right amount of mystery and darkened mirror shines wanely on The Crystal Hum while remaining fragile and vulnerable in the sweet spots. Turning over in pillowing smoke and night in the dark corners, Huang sings in both Mandarin and English. The songs speak of earthly matters seemingly at the edge of dissipating into nothing. Distorted, beguiling Sambas warble like sweating dancehalls in an imagined Lynchian 60s, as on Thoughts. Closer You, An Illusion warps a classic 60s Girlgroup bassline beloved of the likes of Les Rallizes

Denudes into a slight ballad on the edge of the void, held back by the teary-eyed, wistful and enveloping vocal cooed by Huang. Each song feels like a love song dedicated to the bits between worlds, between beats, the negative space between people where desires, feelings and loss hangs in the air, resolute and unresolved.

Haken-Gitarrist Charlie Griffiths kehrt mit einem Nachfolger zu seinem Soloalbum von 2022 zurück. Diesmal wählt Charlie Grif-fiths den Künstlernamen "Tiktaalika" und präsentiert "Gods of Pangaea". Das Album knüpft dort an, wo das Vorgängeralbum auf-gehört hat und erzählt von einer uralten, vergessenen Welt, die mit dem heutigen, von Menschen bewohnten Planeten kollidiert. Musikalisch ist das Album eine Hommage an die Kunst der Gitarrenriffs, deren DNA bis in die goldene Ära des Metal zurück-reicht, mit Einflüssen von Mercyful Fate, Judas Priest, Megadeth und Metallica. Charlie wird wieder von dem hervorragenden Schlagzeuger Darby Todd (Devin Townsend) unterstützt, und die Bassfrequenzen werden diesmal von Haken-Bandkollege Conner Green beigesteuert. An den Vocals wird Charlie von einigen der Besten im Geschäft unterstützt: Tommy Rogers (Between The Buried & Me), Daniël de Jongh (Textures) und Vladimir Lalić (Organised Chaos) sind alle wieder mit von der Partie und Rody Walker (Protest The Hero) steuert seine Vocals zu einem Track bei. Erhältlich als limitierte CD & Gatefold transparent-magenta LP-Edition (beide mit Bonustrack) sowie digital.

Pinkman is proud to present the debut album of darkwave artist Skelesys. Across nine evocative tracks, "Fading Echoes" navigates the tension between nostalgia and self-discovery, weaving together a moody blend of synth-pop, post-punk, and goth influences. The result is an atmospheric exploration of memory, heartache, and resilience--a soundtrack for those moments when the past refuses to stay buried, and the future feels uncertain. From the cold, creeping synths to the mournful guitar lines that echo like distant whispers, Fading Echoes immerses the listener in a soundscape where shadows and light coexist. The album has a distinct cinematic quality, evoking the smoky allure of neon-lit cityscapes and rain-slicked streets, where every track feels like a chapter in a film noir tale of introspection and escape. There's a sense of longing that runs through the album, a desire to hold onto something beautiful, even as it slips through your fingers.

Steven Wilson is no stranger to composing music that appears to counter everything else before it in his catalogue. Bass Communion, his long running solo electronic project, is no exception to this perverse streak that apparently likes to turn all expectations upside down. The Itself of Itself, Bass Communion's first album for 12 years, skilfully pays testament to this. Long established as a purveyor of mostly atmospheric or ambient textures, the seven cuts that represent The Itself of Itself take detours from this approach in order draw as much from musique concrete, noise music, abstract electronics and uneasy listening. Whilst still rippled with the same shades of light and dark that can be found throughout all of Bass Communion's work, The Itself of Itself reveals a fascination with analogue sounds and, more importantly perhaps, 'unwanted' analogue artefacts like tape hiss, wow and flutter, static noise, and sonic break-up, taking the music into a space at once different yet familiar. 'Apparition 3' presents a stark nod to Wilson's established command of shifting textures steeped in penumbral gauze, while 'Bruise' is akin to a space probe adrift and headed towards a white dwarf as all communication is reduced to a disturbing and indecipherable crackle. Between the other five cuts we witness fragmented, garbled and buried voices, vast vacillating banks of grainy hum, what sounds like the dying gasps of an oboe, spooky swirls from an indiscernible source, swathes of tape hiss, moody drones, and spiralling slivers of noise. Meanwhile on the title track, a mellotron flute rusts and collapses in on itself in a way that renders it the very antithesis of the one deployed on 'Strawberry Fields Forever'. Everything adds up to a dynamic listening experience where unease, dread and comparatively claustrophobic torrents of sound make (un)natural bedfellows to moments of enchantment and serenity. Above all, The Itself of Itself sees Steven Wilson cutting his teeth on an album that's at once cinematic and moody whilst proving him to be a master in electronic music craftsmanship. It's an album that might surprise some of those who have thus far been paying attention to his work as Bass Communion, but setting out to please everyone was never part of his raison d'etre. The Itself of Itself catches Bass Communion spreading its weatherbeaten wings to embrace new strategies and a strong desire to journey elsewhere. Arriving in a wonderful Carl Glover designed deluxe cover also comprising a 24pp. booklet of his photographs and an obi strip, this version of The Itself of Itself arrives in December on Lumberton Trading Company as a 2LP pressed in an initial run of 1000 copies.

The eighth and latest slate of refined retro-futuristic synth-pop by Liz Wendelbo and Sean McBride aka Xeno & Oaklander is named after and inspired by "the study of what not to do, a negative image of a positive, the other side, the other:" Via Negativa (in the doorway light). Recorded in the fall of 2023 at their modernist Connecticut home fashioned into a two-story synthesizer laboratory and mixing studio, the album is uniquely visionary in spirit yet precision in execution, a contrast central to the duo's enduring chemistry. Embryonic piano sketches were translated to nuanced modular systems, which McBride weighted with "harmonic padding," tuned percussion, and a spectral transfer device capable of "rendering spasms of rhythmic overtonal filigree." Despite the technological complexity of their craft, emotively the songs require no deciphering - these are technicolor widescreen anthems of the cybernetic age. The eponymous opening track sets the pace, soaring sleekly over glittering synths and call-and-response vocals about arias, shattered light, and faces in stereo. From there the record expands and contracts, cycling through a gallery of moods and masks, animated by the band's fascination with drama, "the idea of personae," and theatrical characters. Track by track, a murky, tragic backstory reveals itself: forlorn figures navigating a treacherous mercury mine, alternately poisoned by fumes or buried in collapsing caverns. The tension between Teutonic, utopian synthetic pop and lyrical narratives of ghosts in silos, ruined mills, and the traumas of mineral excavation creates a compelling friction, alternately futurist and obsolete, elevated and subterranean. Wendelbo describes the music's polarities perfectly: "The heavy machinic din of extraction in contrast with the enchantment of the mined precious gems and metals." From bilingual odes to bloodstones ("O Vermillion") to cosmic chrome dance floor classics ("Lost & There" "The present tense can never feel real / So many pasts conspire in the burning sun") to strutting EBM sensualities ("Actor's Foil"), Xeno & Oaklander re-prove themselves masters of the axis of technology and poetry, snaking cables and synesthesia, mining melodies and myths across 15 years of focused artistry. Theirs is a muse still gilded and gleaming, burnished red and silver, attuned to "the unobservable, the unfamiliar, that which you don't see directly."

The eighth and latest slate of refined retro-futuristic synth-pop by Liz Wendelbo and Sean McBride aka Xeno & Oaklander is named after and inspired by "the study of what not to do, a negative image of a positive, the other side, the other:" Via Negativa (in the doorway light). Recorded in the fall of 2023 at their modernist Connecticut home fashioned into a two-story synthesizer laboratory and mixing studio, the album is uniquely visionary in spirit yet precision in execution, a contrast central to the duo's enduring chemistry. Embryonic piano sketches were translated to nuanced modular systems, which McBride weighted with "harmonic padding," tuned percussion, and a spectral transfer device capable of "rendering spasms of rhythmic overtonal filigree." Despite the technological complexity of their craft, emotively the songs require no deciphering - these are technicolor widescreen anthems of the cybernetic age. The eponymous opening track sets the pace, soaring sleekly over glittering synths and call-and-response vocals about arias, shattered light, and faces in stereo. From there the record expands and contracts, cycling through a gallery of moods and masks, animated by the band's fascination with drama, "the idea of personae," and theatrical characters. Track by track, a murky, tragic backstory reveals itself: forlorn figures navigating a treacherous mercury mine, alternately poisoned by fumes or buried in collapsing caverns. The tension between Teutonic, utopian synthetic pop and lyrical narratives of ghosts in silos, ruined mills, and the traumas of mineral excavation creates a compelling friction, alternately futurist and obsolete, elevated and subterranean. Wendelbo describes the music's polarities perfectly: "The heavy machinic din of extraction in contrast with the enchantment of the mined precious gems and metals." From bilingual odes to bloodstones ("O Vermillion") to cosmic chrome dance floor classics ("Lost & There" "The present tense can never feel real / So many pasts conspire in the burning sun") to strutting EBM sensualities ("Actor's Foil"), Xeno & Oaklander re-prove themselves masters of the axis of technology and poetry, snaking cables and synesthesia, mining melodies and myths across 15 years of focused artistry. Theirs is a muse still gilded and gleaming, burnished red and silver, attuned to "the unobservable, the unfamiliar, that which you don't see directly."

The eighth and latest slate of refined retro-futuristic synth-pop by Liz Wendelbo and Sean McBride aka Xeno & Oaklander is named after and inspired by "the study of what not to do, a negative image of a positive, the other side, the other:" 'Via Negativa (in the doorway light)'. Recorded in the fall of 2023 at their modernist Connecticut home fashioned into a two-story synthesizer laboratory and mixing studio, the album is uniquely visionary in spirit yet precision in execution, a contrast central to the duo’s enduring chemistry. Embryonic piano sketches were translated to nuanced modular systems, which McBride weighted with "harmonic padding," tuned percussion, and a spectral transfer device capable of "rendering spasms of rhythmic overtonal filigree." Despite the technological complexity of their craft, emotively the songs require no deciphering – these are technicolor widescreen anthems of the cybernetic age.

The eponymous opening track sets the pace, soaring sleekly over glittering synths and call-and-response vocals about arias, shattered light, and faces in stereo. From there the record expands and contracts, cycling through a gallery of moods and masks, animated by the band’s fascination with drama, "the idea of personae," and theatrical characters. Track by track, a murky, tragic backstory reveals itself: forlorn figures navigating a treacherous mercury mine, alternately poisoned by fumes or buried in collapsing caverns. The tension between Teutonic, utopian synthetic pop and lyrical narratives of ghosts in silos, ruined mills, and the traumas of mineral excavation creates a compelling friction, alternately futurist and obsolete, elevated and subterranean. Wendelbo describes the music’s polarities perfectly: "The heavy machinic din of extraction in contrast with the enchantment of the mined precious gems and metals."

From bilingual odes to bloodstones ("O Vermillion") to cosmic chrome dance floor classics ("Lost & There" "The present tense can never feel real / So many pasts conspire in the burning sun") to strutting EBM sensualities ("Actor's Foil"), Xeno & Oaklander re-prove themselves masters of the axis of technology and poetry, snaking cables and synesthesia, mining melodies and myths across 15 years of focused artistry. Theirs is a muse still gilded and gleaming, burnished red and silver, attuned to "the unobservable, the unfamiliar, that which you don’t see directly."

The eighth and latest slate of refined retro-futuristic synth-pop by Liz Wendelbo and Sean McBride aka Xeno & Oaklander is named after and inspired by "the study of what not to do, a negative image of a positive, the other side, the other:" 'Via Negativa (in the doorway light)'. Recorded in the fall of 2023 at their modernist Connecticut home fashioned into a two-story synthesizer laboratory and mixing studio, the album is uniquely visionary in spirit yet precision in execution, a contrast central to the duo’s enduring chemistry. Embryonic piano sketches were translated to nuanced modular systems, which McBride weighted with "harmonic padding," tuned percussion, and a spectral transfer device capable of "rendering spasms of rhythmic overtonal filigree." Despite the technological complexity of their craft, emotively the songs require no deciphering – these are technicolor widescreen anthems of the cybernetic age.

The eponymous opening track sets the pace, soaring sleekly over glittering synths and call-and-response vocals about arias, shattered light, and faces in stereo. From there the record expands and contracts, cycling through a gallery of moods and masks, animated by the band’s fascination with drama, "the idea of personae," and theatrical characters. Track by track, a murky, tragic backstory reveals itself: forlorn figures navigating a treacherous mercury mine, alternately poisoned by fumes or buried in collapsing caverns. The tension between Teutonic, utopian synthetic pop and lyrical narratives of ghosts in silos, ruined mills, and the traumas of mineral excavation creates a compelling friction, alternately futurist and obsolete, elevated and subterranean. Wendelbo describes the music’s polarities perfectly: "The heavy machinic din of extraction in contrast with the enchantment of the mined precious gems and metals."

From bilingual odes to bloodstones ("O Vermillion") to cosmic chrome dance floor classics ("Lost & There" "The present tense can never feel real / So many pasts conspire in the burning sun") to strutting EBM sensualities ("Actor's Foil"), Xeno & Oaklander re-prove themselves masters of the axis of technology and poetry, snaking cables and synesthesia, mining melodies and myths across 15 years of focused artistry. Theirs is a muse still gilded and gleaming, burnished red and silver, attuned to "the unobservable, the unfamiliar, that which you don’t see directly."

" The myths of our Western tradition have often captivated me, whether they be Greek, Roman, or Judeo-Christian. Myths are a transcendent collective narrative; a buried memory, not intellectual but spiritual, alive to all the senses of another world. These stories often describe forbidding passages guarded by terrifying monster-like creatures, which, if conquered, give access to other planes. 'Door 1 - Door 2' are two of these planes, opening to prophecy and kingship." (Christopher Chaplin)

Following the release of his powerful and dark album trilogy "Je suis le Ténébreux", "Paradise Lost" and "M", British avant-garde composer Christopher James Chaplin has unveiled his latest project in 2021: "Patriarchs", released to critical acclaim. This project is a musical exploration of the Antediluvian patriarchs, from Adam to Noah, and is another captivating and daring work of art that straddles experimental electronic music and the avant-garde. Chaplin has also been wowing audiences with his live performances, releasing the concert album "Patriarchs Live" to shorten the wait for his new studio album "Door 1 Door 2", which will be released on September 20, 2024.

It is another powerful work of art, located between electronic music and avant-garde. Once again, Christopher Chaplin breaks genre boundaries and manages to condense experimental and colorful electronics in chamber music in a unique way, transporting the listener into mental and spatiotemporal intermediate states. A completely unique musical microcosm that can also be experienced in his impressive solo live performances.

2024 repress

Rush Hour’s RSS series excels in unearthing buried treasure, offering a second chance for artists and releases that have long been overlooked. That’s certainly the case with ‘Witches’, the superb sole single by British 1980s wave trio Zenana.

Originally released on seven-inch by the tiny PRM label in 1986, ‘Witches’ was the product of a sister-brother songwriting team whose music was mostly recorded in the front room of a terraced house in Nanpean, a small industrial village in Cornwall, England’s most south-westerly county. While the single was infectious, impeccably produced and dancefloor-ready, it sold in limited quantities at the time.

Zenana’s story can be traced back to the early 1980s, when singer-songwriter Anita Tedder founded the all-female trio as a vehicle for her musical ambitions. To bring her songs to life, she joined voices with her brother Mike, an early adopter of electronic music who had built a studio – nicknamed MFR, short for ‘Mike’s Front Room’ – in his Cornish home.

Countless Zenana tracks were recorded at ‘MFR’ between 1984 and ’86, with the resultant demo cassette securing the band a management contract, a slew of live bookings, a video shoot and even a television appearance. Buoyed by this underground success, they headed to the remote Sawmills Studio in Cornwall – famously only accessible by boat – to re-record ‘Witches’, a song inspired by local folk tales of witches gathering near Mike’s home.

While this version of ‘Witches’ failed to make an impact at the time, it has become something of a cult classic following its’ rediscovery by crate digger Kiernan Abbott – and subsequent championing by other dusty-fingered DJs including Antal, Skyrager, Trevor Jackson and Luke Una – in early 2023. The buzz inspired Zenana to perform live again for the first time in decades, with the story of their surprise comeback being covered by British media outlets including the BBC and (more surprisingly) the Daily Mail.

Now presented in re-mastered form, ‘Witches’ is a genuinely slept-on gem. Propelled forwards by punchy drum machine beats, a killer synth bassline and fizzing keyboard sounds, the song benefits greatly from strong vocals and an extra-percussive middle eight layered with vocalisations, cosmic spoken word sections and swirling noises.

It comes backed by a brand-new extended ‘spell of love’ courtesy of Bristol duo Bedmo Disco, AKA music journalist Matt Anniss (author of Join The Future: Bleep Techno and the Birth of British Bass Music) and DJ/production partner Gareth Morgan. Anniss is a long-time friend of Mike and Anita Tedder who has fond memories of visiting Mike’s home studio with his family around the time that ‘Witches’ was recorded.

Working from Zenana’s original MFR eight-track recording (tapes of the single version were lost years ago), Anniss and Morgan have turned in the extended ‘dance mix’ the track never had first time around. More atmospheric, clandestine and dancefloor-focused, it offers authentic nods to New York proto-house, mid-80s Shep Pettibone dubs, and the pioneering synth-pop productions and dub mixes of Factory Records regular Martin Rushent.

There are ghosts all across AVANTI, the debut album from Malice K. At points it's howling and unhinged, a grungy layer atop a lush foundation of melodic capital-s Songwriting, but in other moments it dissolves into a gentle, wistful haunting. Malice K's songs are blunt, uncomplicated and unflinching as he probes the interiority of memories, of mistakes - saturated with an innate intensity that sucks you into his gnarled and visceral world, so barbed it could draw blood. Malice K is helmed by visual artist and songwriter Alex Konschuh, New York-based but born and raised in Olympia, Washington. Following a stint living in Los Angeles, where he became a member of the artist collective Death Proof Inc., a trip to New York resulted in him simply never leaving the city. A period of chaos ensued, Malice K exhausted and unmoored and ultimately, unwell. The record is unpredictable across its 11 songs. The album opens with a jarring scream on "Halloween," Malice K's breathless vocals buried beneath a grungy, roving Nineties riff. The track emanates a manic energy, enveloping. It's a fitting entrypoint for the record, and for the vividness of Malice K. The snarling and obsessive "You're My Girl" has a swaggering paranoia: "I got so high I thought my hand touching my hand was your hand." But AVANTI exists in quieter moments too; "Radio," with its fluttering morose cello, moves at an almost glacial pace comparatively. The aching wistfulness of "The Old House" is an album stand-out, anchored in an acoustic guitar, an uneasy lullaby that never quite settles into itself: "I think to myself I got the things that I wanted, but I can't help think there's something else that I forgot to do." A recent press interview called Malice K a shapeshifter, but he's not amorphous in that way. He's decisive and intense, more concerned with carving his own path, and building his own world. Every part of Malice K is distinctly himself: from his sweaty high-octane shows to the high-flash high-contrast photos; from his gnarled and unsettling illustrations to the studio recordings that vacillate between grief and tenderness, there's an exceptional ferocity across everything Malice K touches. AVANTI feels lived in, like peering into an abandoned house through a window smeared with grimy fingerprints, relics of a life well-lived scattered inside - despite being a debut, there's the sense that Malice K arrived fully-realized, imperfections and all.

There are ghosts all across AVANTI, the debut album from Malice K. At points it's howling and unhinged, a grungy layer atop a lush foundation of melodic capital-s Songwriting, but in other moments it dissolves into a gentle, wistful haunting. Malice K's songs are blunt, uncomplicated and unflinching as he probes the interiority of memories, of mistakes - saturated with an innate intensity that sucks you into his gnarled and visceral world, so barbed it could draw blood. Malice K is helmed by visual artist and songwriter Alex Konschuh, New York-based but born and raised in Olympia, Washington. Following a stint living in Los Angeles, where he became a member of the artist collective Death Proof Inc., a trip to New York resulted in him simply never leaving the city. A period of chaos ensued, Malice K exhausted and unmoored and ultimately, unwell. The record is unpredictable across its 11 songs. The album opens with a jarring scream on "Halloween," Malice K's breathless vocals buried beneath a grungy, roving Nineties riff. The track emanates a manic energy, enveloping. It's a fitting entrypoint for the record, and for the vividness of Malice K. The snarling and obsessive "You're My Girl" has a swaggering paranoia: "I got so high I thought my hand touching my hand was your hand." But AVANTI exists in quieter moments too; "Radio," with its fluttering morose cello, moves at an almost glacial pace comparatively. The aching wistfulness of "The Old House" is an album stand-out, anchored in an acoustic guitar, an uneasy lullaby that never quite settles into itself: "I think to myself I got the things that I wanted, but I can't help think there's something else that I forgot to do." A recent press interview called Malice K a shapeshifter, but he's not amorphous in that way. He's decisive and intense, more concerned with carving his own path, and building his own world. Every part of Malice K is distinctly himself: from his sweaty high-octane shows to the high-flash high-contrast photos; from his gnarled and unsettling illustrations to the studio recordings that vacillate between grief and tenderness, there's an exceptional ferocity across everything Malice K touches. AVANTI feels lived in, like peering into an abandoned house through a window smeared with grimy fingerprints, relics of a life well-lived scattered inside - despite being a debut, there's the sense that Malice K arrived fully-realized, imperfections and all.

Repress!
Note - Sleeve says contains a bonus CD, these represses do not have a bonus CD, they have a download card.

Hate Your Friends is the 1987 debut album by the Lemonheads, one of only three full-length releases to feature the original band line- up of Evan Dando, Ben Deily, and Jesse Peretz. The album showcases a hardcore-punk-to-pop-rock sound and sensibility as playfully fierce as it is surprising…especially to listeners who know the band only from their better-known major label recordings of the 1990s. The roots of Hate Your Friends begin with the genesis of the band itself: when high school friends Ben Deily and Evan Dando—inspired by a shared love of the 70’s absurdist comedy troupe the Firesign Theatre, literature, and punk rock—began playing their own songs together in 1985. Dando and Deily first started out as a two-piece ensemble: swapping back and forth between a shared Guild guitar (and a crappy amp) and vocal mic, and pounding a drum kit “borrowed” from the high school jazz band. With the addition of classmate and friend Jesse Peretz on bass, the two-man outfit quickly became a power trio. With a handful of original songs, a passionate love for their favourite bands—from Husker-Du, the Replacements, Black Flag and the Germs, to the Saints, Wire and ‘77 UK punk—and a tiny recording budget, the Lemonheads set about their first studio session within days of their high school graduation in June of 1986. During that summer, a significant amount of what would become the band’s debut album was recorded in Brookline, Massachusetts, with Deily and Dando sharing vocal, guitar and drumming duties. Above and beyond bass, Jesse proved pivotal as the band’s manager, booker and tireless promoter—helping arrange for the Lemonheads self-released debut EP, Laughing all the way to the cleaners, later that summer, and shortly thereafter helping establish the relationship with Curtis Casella of TAANG! records that paved the way to full-length LP Hate Your Friends. Finally, with the addition of full-time (and fairly short-lived) drummer Doug Trachten, the last songs of Hate Your Friends were recorded in the winter of 1986-7. BONUS TRACKS: This Fire Records re-issue features bonus tracks including 12 never-before-released live tracks from a 1987 radio session, rare tracks from the early compilation Crawling From Within, and additional tracks not included on the original release of Hate Your Friends (“Buried Alive” and “Gotta Stop”).

Bruno Berle, the young songwriter and poet originally hailing from Maceió, the capital of Brazil’s Alagoas state, crafts songs that are simple, direct, and full of tender nuance. With his first album No Reino Dos Afetos (which translates to "In the Realm of Affections” and was released in 2022), Berle firmly established himself as a unique and important voice in the burgeoning scene of new Brazilian artists making a global impact, including peers like Ana Frango Elétrico, Tim Bernardes, Bala Desejo, Sessa and more. Now back with his second album, No Reino Dos Afetos 2, he stretches that further.

Bruno Berle’s music lives between two worlds – a traditional Brazilian folk talent steeped in history, and a contemporary, dreamy electronic pop; the result is songwriting that’s genre-bending, intentional, iconoclastic and consuming, spacious and sinewy and singular, a striking reflection of its composer while leaving space for the listener to settle in. The album follows Bruno’s relocation to São Paulo, and the songs are a reflection of his past and present. A rebuke of former categorizations of his work in Brazilian music scenes, and an idea of where his music can move, unfettered.

Berle’s music is purposeful in being a true portrait of himself, and a reflection of the music, art, and fashion scenes he personally moves through. Berle aims to provide an entrypoint for Black queer joy in his music, in his storytelling, in his presence and vision as a creative. For him, it feels subversive to be playing MPB laced with dubstep and lo-fi, a sort of intentional sacrilege, capturing a dialogue of modernity in traditional music.

Berle wrote most of the arrangements and co-produced his new album, Reino Dos Afetos 2 with longtime friend and musical partner Batata Boy, who is also from Maceió; the album was recorded in Rio de Janeiro, Maceió, and São Paulo, his new home, and picks up the conversation begun in 2022 on Berle’s debut album No Reino dos Afetos. Both records are the result of a nonlinear but coherent seven-year music creation process culminating in these albums, holding hands across space and time.

“Tirolirole,” the first single from the record, was released at the end of 2023; sun-soaked rhythms and soft voice coat the song, the lilting refrain of “Tirolirole” throughout – hushed, gentle, but somehow almost tactile, a golden-hour moment unlocked in the mind. “Tirolirole” is a triumphant future classic about the temporality of a blossoming love, with Bruno’s stunning vocal soaring over melodies which ebb and flow like the waters on the Atlantic shore. Of the track, Berle explains: “Despite ‘Tirolirole’ being an expression that evokes my childhood, just like the light words about nature, the harmony, and the poetry are epic, carrying a great hope for love.”

In fact, the guiding theme of No Reino dos Afetos 2 is a relationship, unfolding in the arc of a weekend. It traverses the innocence of an early young love, how that can be formative, can stretch on to take new shapes, or shape you. The album happens at the genesis of meeting someone and falling for them, before the relationship is thrown into overdrive – set in a big city, against a backdrop of major life changes, rising energy, the sound of São Paulo.

Something transcendental emerges in “Dizer Adeus,” with an arrangement that echoes a gospel atmosphere (evangelical and Catholic environments were pivotal to Berle’s upbringing). On “É Só Você Chegar,” piano and flute gracefully intertwine, a dance, while “Quando Penso” skews sparser, the voice-and-guitar minimalism somehow cultivating an entirely different shape – somehow both cozy and melancholy, with the background sound of a rainy day. Coupled with the lo-fi aspects that shape much of the album’s personality in the vocals and the production, No Reino Dos Afetos 2 is meticulously elaborated by Berle’s sonic alchemy, like on the mid-album instrumental “Sonho,” which feels like floating. “It’s the apex. It’s when lovers are sleeping together,” Berle explains of the feeling he wanted to encapsulate in the song.

On “Love Comes Back” Berle interprets Arthur Russell, the late Iowa musician who only reached greater visibility after he died in 1992. “His way of making music is similar to mine,” Berle explains. “He sings in a more fragile way, has more of an experimental way of recording, letting ‘chance’ appear in the final work.”

Even so, Berle doesn’t want his music to be buried in sentimentality – and the purposefulness of his craft serves as a sort of north star. The production, the arrangements, his restraint and intentionality in crafting his songs feel just as vital as their emotional cores. His songwriting is amorphous, fluid, an encompassing genre-bending movement in-and-of-itself, quietly daring. The songs are often in conversation with other works – drinking in fountains as diverse as the filmmaking of Ingmar Bergman, the poetry of Walt Whitman, the rhythm of Djavan, and the painting of Maxwell Alexandre. Musically he weaves together a rich tapestry of Brazilian folk, UK 2-step garage/dub, trip hop and sun soaked west coast songwriters; something akin to the worlds of Milton Nascimento, Arthur Russell, James Blake, Feist, and Sade colliding into one. But even then No Reino Dos Afetos 2 floats separately, a romanticism driven by a simplicity and intimacy, an open-ended possibility, Berle’s singularity as an artist at the helm of the ship.

A resident of Berlin's long-running Gegen, a multifaceted queer techno and performance art event, Samantha Togni has seen her profile rising with appearances on Mixmag's Lab series in London and a heavy release schedule on established and upcoming labels: Stay Up Forever, Noise Manifesto, her own Boudica, and others, quickly accumulating a significant discography since her 2019 debut. Her latest is the Lunaversal EP on Rant & Rave, representing another edgy release from upcoming female techno talent. It leads off with the title track, not exactly as cosmic as implied with buried, indecipherable vocals and buzzsaw synth riffs seesawing between intermittent breakdowns which only serve to increase tension 'Minor Goddess' takes an old school rave approach with abrasive, rising stabs and dissected vocals against a hammering framework of kicks and crushing bass pressure. With its lilting ambient chopped vocal samples slightly counterbalancing the surging forward motion of the rhythm, 'Pit of Truth' hits deeper, but the pit in the title obviously leans more towards dungeon or grave. 'Jesters Have a Heart Too' rubs unstable synth sweeps against blasts of industrial noise and jackhammer percussion, reaching peak intensity in its brutally chopped final run.

Music is a form of world building. I love to develop sonic characters and set them into fictional ecosystems with unique textures, acoustics and atmospheres. Each song forms a different landscape, through which a vocal character guides us and tries to tell us its stories." — Ludwig Berger

Ludwig Berger's 'fictional' debut album "Garden Ediacara" unfolds as a musical eco-fiction, guiding listeners through a speculative ecosystem with synthesized vocals. Infused with storytelling techniques from sci-fi and fantasy, the album intertwines melodic songwriting with electroacoustic sound design. Inspired by hydrofeminism and eco-fiction novels, such as "A Door Into Ocean" by Joan Slonczewski, the album delves into the geological period of Ediacara around 600 million years ago — an era so remote it resonates as a glimpse into a possible future. The Ediacaran period was characterised by a peaceful and thriving ecosystem inhabited by soft-bodied creatures without eyes and bones, which were completely wiped out through the appearance of a new species. "Garden of Ediacara" alludes to this period, celebrating both the pleasures of biodiversity as well as mourning its inevitable loss. The narrative unfolds as an exploration of growth and interconnection in the shadow of a coming extinction. The track titles, written by Daisy Lafarge, reveal themselves as a cohesive poem and contribute to the album's narrative.

Informed by his practice of field recording that focusses on intimate encounters with plants, animals and geological phenomena, as well as his studies in electroacoustic composition, Berger expands his palette for his debut in 'fictional' music. The album prominently features a post-human, non-binary death metal voice synthesizer, physical modeling instruments, and microscopic field recordings of plants, insects, as well as aquatic and geological life. With impressionistic strokes, Ludwig Berger crafts vibrant worlds using glassy timbres and more-than-human voices, guiding listeners through emotionally ambiguous terrain, seamlessly oscillating between moments of intimacy and irritation, melancholy and playfulness.

Ludwig Berger is a landscape sound artist, educator and musician. In his compositions, installations and performances, he enables intimate and playful sonic encounters with plants, animals, buildings and geological entities. He is founder and curator of the label Vertical Music, which releases field recordings and experimental music. Berger holds degrees in electroacoustic composition, as well as musicology, art history and literature. As a sound researcher and teacher at the Institute for Landscape Architecture at ETH Zurich from 2015-2022, he studied the sonic dimension of Japanese gardens, alpine glaciers and urban landscapes, which among other things led to the release of the acclaimed album trilogy 'Melting Landscapes', 'Dammed Landscapes' and 'Buried Landscapes'.

The latest suite by composer (and Stars Of The Lid co-founder) Adam Wiltzie took shape following a move north from Brussels into the Flemish countryside, although it was initially inspired by a recurring dream wherein “if someone listened to the music I created, then they would die.”
The album uniquely evokes and evades the allure of oblivion, keening between beauty and ruin, forever unresolved. Wiltzie cites the barbiturate of the title as both muse and sacred escape: “When you are sitting face forward on the daily emotional meat grinder of life, I always wished I could have some, so I could just fall asleep automatically and the feeling would not be there anymore.”
Recorded at Wilzie’s home studio, with strings added in Budapest at the old Hungarian National radio facility (Magyar Radio), the tracks feel simultaneously intimate and infinite, unfolding vistas glimpsed in an inner space.
Robert Hampson of English drone rock icons Loop mixed the album, further lending the music a sense of cinematic expanse and oblique hypnosis.
These are fugue states as much as fugues in a literal classical music sense—smeared epiphanies of uncertain memory and spatial dislocation, coaxed from the unconscious and set aloft.

Bruno Berle, the young songwriter and poet originally hailing from Maceió, the capital of Brazil’s Alagoas state, crafts songs that are simple, direct, and full of tender nuance. With his first album No Reino Dos Afetos (which translates to "In the Realm of Affections” and was released in 2022), Berle firmly established himself as a unique and important voice in the burgeoning scene of new Brazilian artists making a global impact, including peers like Ana Frango Elétrico, Tim Bernardes, Bala Desejo, Sessa and more. Now back with his second album, No Reino Dos Afetos 2, he stretches that further.

Bruno Berle’s music lives between two worlds – a traditional Brazilian folk talent steeped in history, and a contemporary, dreamy electronic pop; the result is songwriting that’s genre-bending, intentional, iconoclastic and consuming, spacious and sinewy and singular, a striking reflection of its composer while leaving space for the listener to settle in. The album follows Bruno’s relocation to São Paulo, and the songs are a reflection of his past and present. A rebuke of former categorizations of his work in Brazilian music scenes, and an idea of where his music can move, unfettered.

Berle’s music is purposeful in being a true portrait of himself, and a reflection of the music, art, and fashion scenes he personally moves through. Berle aims to provide an entrypoint for Black queer joy in his music, in his storytelling, in his presence and vision as a creative. For him, it feels subversive to be playing MPB laced with dubstep and lo-fi, a sort of intentional sacrilege, capturing a dialogue of modernity in traditional music.

Berle wrote most of the arrangements and co-produced his new album, Reino Dos Afetos 2 with longtime friend and musical partner Batata Boy, who is also from Maceió; the album was recorded in Rio de Janeiro, Maceió, and São Paulo, his new home, and picks up the conversation begun in 2022 on Berle’s debut album No Reino dos Afetos. Both records are the result of a nonlinear but coherent seven-year music creation process culminating in these albums, holding hands across space and time.

“Tirolirole,” the first single from the record, was released at the end of 2023; sun-soaked rhythms and soft voice coat the song, the lilting refrain of “Tirolirole” throughout – hushed, gentle, but somehow almost tactile, a golden-hour moment unlocked in the mind. “Tirolirole” is a triumphant future classic about the temporality of a blossoming love, with Bruno’s stunning vocal soaring over melodies which ebb and flow like the waters on the Atlantic shore. Of the track, Berle explains: “Despite ‘Tirolirole’ being an expression that evokes my childhood, just like the light words about nature, the harmony, and the poetry are epic, carrying a great hope for love.”

In fact, the guiding theme of No Reino dos Afetos 2 is a relationship, unfolding in the arc of a weekend. It traverses the innocence of an early young love, how that can be formative, can stretch on to take new shapes, or shape you. The album happens at the genesis of meeting someone and falling for them, before the relationship is thrown into overdrive – set in a big city, against a backdrop of major life changes, rising energy, the sound of São Paulo.

Something transcendental emerges in “Dizer Adeus,” with an arrangement that echoes a gospel atmosphere (evangelical and Catholic environments were pivotal to Berle’s upbringing). On “É Só Você Chegar,” piano and flute gracefully intertwine, a dance, while “Quando Penso” skews sparser, the voice-and-guitar minimalism somehow cultivating an entirely different shape – somehow both cozy and melancholy, with the background sound of a rainy day. Coupled with the lo-fi aspects that shape much of the album’s personality in the vocals and the production, No Reino Dos Afetos 2 is meticulously elaborated by Berle’s sonic alchemy, like on the mid-album instrumental “Sonho,” which feels like floating. “It’s the apex. It’s when lovers are sleeping together,” Berle explains of the feeling he wanted to encapsulate in the song.

On “Love Comes Back” Berle interprets Arthur Russell, the late Iowa musician who only reached greater visibility after he died in 1992. “His way of making music is similar to mine,” Berle explains. “He sings in a more fragile way, has more of an experimental way of recording, letting ‘chance’ appear in the final work.”

Even so, Berle doesn’t want his music to be buried in sentimentality – and the purposefulness of his craft serves as a sort of north star. The production, the arrangements, his restraint and intentionality in crafting his songs feel just as vital as their emotional cores. His songwriting is amorphous, fluid, an encompassing genre-bending movement in-and-of-itself, quietly daring. The songs are often in conversation with other works – drinking in fountains as diverse as the filmmaking of Ingmar Bergman, the poetry of Walt Whitman, the rhythm of Djavan, and the painting of Maxwell Alexandre. Musically he weaves together a rich tapestry of Brazilian folk, UK 2-step garage/dub, trip hop and sun soaked west coast songwriters; something akin to the worlds of Milton Nascimento, Arthur Russell, James Blake, Feist, and Sade colliding into one. But even then No Reino Dos Afetos 2 floats separately, a romanticism driven by a simplicity and intimacy, an open-ended possibility, Berle’s singularity as an artist at the helm of the ship.

If 2022’s The Children Of Scorpio was the debut album that turned people onto the world of Project Gemini aka Paul Osborne, Colours & Light is the body of work that will be buried deep into their hearts. It is a majestic album, bringing together the worlds of folk rock, psych soundtracks and hazy cinematic funk.

A growing confidence and ease emanate from the writing and production of this sophomore LP, bolstered by the reception to his standout debut. “It’s a more layered and diverse record” Paul mentions, “with a more outward-looking, global sound, born out of the records I was listening to and the musicians I was lucky enough to collaborate with”. It feels relaxed yet self-assured, with a kaleidoscope of sounds that twist together in a mesmerising fashion.

The theme of the album developed naturally through the lyrics Paul began writing. A creative process both plagued and fed by insomnia, nourished by relationships, entwined in emotions, nights out, nights in and the after-effects on the human condition. Relatable themes yet seen through the prism of a soundscape that takes in many a different culture and scene. From acid folk to psych-funk, Francophile elements to Anatolian and Eastern inspirations, all interlocking and rotating as one.

Drawing inspiration from those he admires, Colours & Light radiates with collaborations. The title track, which tips its hat to a live 1973 TV version of Pentangle’s ‘Wedding Dress’, features the folk rock, guitar brilliance of Jack Sharp from Wolf People/Large Plants.

Elsewhere, two tracks are blessed by the sultry, smokey French vocals of Gloria’s Wendy Martinez, ‘Extra Nuit’ and ‘Entre chien et loup’. The former echoes Paul's love of classic French psych-pop from the late ’60s and early ’70s and artists such as Laurance Vanay, Calcium, Leonie, and Serge Gainsbourg. Martinez's sublime vocal work nestles perfectly within Paul's psych-folk-funk productions, as her Gloria partner, Alexis Morel (aka Kid Victrola) sprinkles a dose of entrancing guitar line magic on proceedings.

The list of collaborations extends further with Raz and Markey Funk, drummer Tony Coote and percussionist Paul Elliott all featuring. Regular collaborator and underground icon Barrie Cadogan (Little Barrie) returns along with Bert Page from The Cromagnon Band, who between them provide a hit of whacked-out, fuzzed-up country guitar and Moog madness respectively on ‘Lost In The Woods (Bacchanal)’.

Rounding off the record Paul’s daughter, Olivia Osborne, supplies the keyboard intro on the penultimate track ‘Twilight’. Dorian Conway from The Soundcarriers (whose bandmate Paul Isherwood returns on mixing duties) then layers echoing heavy flute parts to magically capture the psychedelic sunrise images brought to mind.

Balancing light and shade on this record, there is beauty and tension all wrapped up in Paul’s vivid and visceral, storytelling gift.

If 2022’s The Children Of Scorpio was the debut album that turned people onto the world of Project Gemini aka Paul Osborne, Colours & Light is the body of work that will be buried deep into their hearts. It is a majestic album, bringing together the worlds of folk rock, psych soundtracks and hazy cinematic funk.

A growing confidence and ease emanate from the writing and production of this sophomore LP, bolstered by the reception to his standout debut. “It’s a more layered and diverse record” Paul mentions, “with a more outward-looking, global sound, born out of the records I was listening to and the musicians I was lucky enough to collaborate with”. It feels relaxed yet self-assured, with a kaleidoscope of sounds that twist together in a mesmerising fashion.

The theme of the album developed naturally through the lyrics Paul began writing. A creative process both plagued and fed by insomnia, nourished by relationships, entwined in emotions, nights out, nights in and the after-effects on the human condition. Relatable themes yet seen through the prism of a soundscape that takes in many a different culture and scene. From acid folk to psych-funk, Francophile elements to Anatolian and Eastern inspirations, all interlocking and rotating as one.

Drawing inspiration from those he admires, Colours & Light radiates with collaborations. The title track, which tips its hat to a live 1973 TV version of Pentangle’s ‘Wedding Dress’, features the folk rock, guitar brilliance of Jack Sharp from Wolf People/Large Plants.

Elsewhere, two tracks are blessed by the sultry, smokey French vocals of Gloria’s Wendy Martinez, ‘Extra Nuit’ and ‘Entre chien et loup’. The former echoes Paul's love of classic French psych-pop from the late ’60s and early ’70s and artists such as Laurance Vanay, Calcium, Leonie, and Serge Gainsbourg. Martinez's sublime vocal work nestles perfectly within Paul's psych-folk-funk productions, as her Gloria partner, Alexis Morel (aka Kid Victrola) sprinkles a dose of entrancing guitar line magic on proceedings.

The list of collaborations extends further with Raz and Markey Funk, drummer Tony Coote and percussionist Paul Elliott all featuring. Regular collaborator and underground icon Barrie Cadogan (Little Barrie) returns along with Bert Page from The Cromagnon Band, who between them provide a hit of whacked-out, fuzzed-up country guitar and Moog madness respectively on ‘Lost In The Woods (Bacchanal)’.

Rounding off the record Paul’s daughter, Olivia Osborne, supplies the keyboard intro on the penultimate track ‘Twilight’. Dorian Conway from The Soundcarriers (whose bandmate Paul Isherwood returns on mixing duties) then layers echoing heavy flute parts to magically capture the psychedelic sunrise images brought to mind.

Balancing light and shade on this record, there is beauty and tension all wrapped up in Paul’s vivid and visceral, storytelling gift.

Janis Joplin wouldn't be denied on Pearl. The powerhouse vocalist had kicked her addictions, teamed with a stupendous band, and partnered with a producer that knew how to best showcase her voice on record. She came to the sessions with an armload of astonishing songs, and a burst of creative energy that mirrored her rejuvenated emotional state and undeniable spirit. You can hear it on every note of the 1971 record. Ranked #135 on Rolling Stone's 500 Greatest Albums of All Time list, Pearl sold more than four million copies and stands as the first female rock superstar's definitive studio work.

Mastered from the original master tapes, cut at 45RPM, and pressed on dead-quiet vinyl at RTI, the iconic audiophile label's reissue takes Joplin and Co.'s stupendous performances to newly transcendent levels. Boasting a fidelity that further magnifies the singer's passion and producer Paul A. Rothchild's clear production, this pressing benefits from increased spaciousness, dynamics, and openness afforded by the wider grooves. Joplin's husky, strong, and penetrating singing has never sounded so vibrant or made deeper connections. Warm, organic, and free of any artificial ceilings, this version lets you step into Sunset Sound Recorders with the performers, such is the degree of realism and authenticity. Indeed, few, if any words, describe Joplin better than "authentic," and her spirit comes to life on this 2LP set in positively transcendent fashion. Like its headliner, this pressing leaves it all on the floor.

While Joplin's electrifying vocal prowess is universally lauded – she's recognized as the greatest white female blues singer the world has ever seen – her mix of compassion, confidence, and charm play as large a role in attracting listeners and keeping them ensnared more than four decades after her tragic death. And on Pearl, she burrows into deeper stylistic veins, teasing out sides of her persona and craft she'd never previously displayed. Her signature desperation, sadness, and vulnerability remain – the harrowing, lonely wail that begins her soul-ravishing take on Jerry Ragovoy's "Cry Baby," underlined with a Wall of Sound-like piano accompaniment, could only come from a person severely scarred by loss and disappointment – yet Joplin also reveals a sense of humour and beatnik innocence that helped propel the album to the top of the charts for nine straight weeks.

Playfully introduced as "a song of great social and political import," the acapella "Mercedes Benz" reflects Joplin's throaty timbre as well as her enhanced, sunnier mood. Similarly, her definitive read of Kris Kristofferson's "Me and Bobby McGee" signals a laidback demeanour and a move into country strains, with the delivery as natural, carefree, and loving as any in the rock canon. As she does throughout the record, Joplin invests her all in the narrative so that there's no line between the performer and the song. She makes everything on Pearl feel autobiographical, and by extension, gut-wrenchingly honest, and devastatingly intimate. Joplin achieved these feats often during her brief career, yet there are differences on Pearl, chiefly among them her balance of impeccable timing and raw emotion. Heart-aching anthems such as "A Woman Left Lonely" offer both grit and control, subtlety and attack, resulting in cathartic releases distinguished with originality, personality, and instinctual passion.

Pearl remains Joplin's finest hour, with credit also owed to the Full Tilt Boogie Band – the only group she ever considered to be her own – as well as the Doors alum that sat behind the boards. Joplin and Rothchild both admitted to sharing a common bond and understanding, with the latter inheriting the role of teacher and Joplin, a willing student ready to discover how she could use her voice in new, more expressive ways. The fruits of the pair's labours fill Pearl, be it the guardedly optimistic "Get It While You Can" or assertive, fleet-footed "Move Over."

Experienced in the new light brought to fore by this definitive Mobile Fidelity edition, Joplin's swan song is no longer about a masterpiece that its creator never lived to see finished. Rather, it's about a once-in-a-lifetime vocalist realizing mammoth potential and wringing passion out of every note. It's not a tragedy, but a triumph. Get it while you can.

Experiences Limited, now 3XL, with a new LP from Exael on a highly atmospheric ambient jungle tip, deploying 30 mins of percussive spasms seeping into smoked-out zoners - highly tipped if yr into anything from Lee Gamble to Malibu.

Clearing their cache of stray bullets, Exael returns with a gyring plunge into percussive wormholes and low-lit mood enhancers .The tracks are broadly cleft along schisms of dark/light and demonic/angelic, switching from restive propellers to more sublime sensations in a fine testament to their practice - making for prob our favourite Exael release thus far.

On the “darker” side, they commit the convulsive, fractious footwork pulses and warped tones of ‘Circle (Squishy Mix)’ in a sort of parallel to 33EMYBW’s insectoid rhythms and combustion systems, while ‘Ice That melts The Tips’ trades in rapid, ice-skating thizz and ‘Ghoul Search (Demonic Attachment Mix)’ fires up the junglist particle accelerator for a proper gauntlet of hyper techstep dynamics.

The contrast is epitomised by ’Composure’, arranging flinty breaks on a luscious waterbed of floating pads, before ‘Eidolon’ renders a sort of airborne dembow pressure in the vicinity of Ben Bondy & special guest dj’s xphresh works. ‘L-theanine’ closes the session on a fine tread inside emo ambient styles and flurries on the same spectrum between DJ Lostboi and Teresa Winter, complete with a reverberating, half-buried vocal.

Life is what happens between curtain rise and curtain fall. And when you’re in the middle of your performance, it can be tough to un-blur, categorize, and interpret the details buried within the perpetual collapsing rubble of past, present, and future. On January 26th, Chayse Porter will release his third studio album, Endless / Boundless via Earth Libraries, nine new musical excavations and epiphanies the Birmingham-based songwriter dug up from life’s bedrock and polished to a shine in his basement lair. How to describe Porter’s solo work...mischievous pop? Cotton candy spun with barbed wire? Beatle-esque, Burt Bacarach-inspired soft rock left to freeze in the warped confines of a funhouse mirror? Whatever your preferred descriptor, Endless / Boundless is a fresher, more direct record than the high-concept psyche excavations of Chay’s Palace, his 2022 sophomore album. Lyrically, Endless ruminates on unrequited love, toxic American exceptionalism, and, in one of the record’s lighter moments, unexpected kindness from strangers. There’s jubilant dream pop (opening stunner “Bleeding Hearts”), shoegaze with threats of violence (“Lead Pipe Cinch”), and a cinematic instrumental centerpiece best enjoyed with eyes closed (“Copter”). With the record on the way and a live band assembled and ready to go, Porter has left listeners a trail of breadcrumbs in anticipation.

In the 1970s, Robert Cahen turned to the burgeoning field of video art, where he became a pioneering artist. He was originally trained in musique concrète, his creative background, and joined the Groupe de Recherches Musicales in 1972. The pieces on this record were composed in the GRM studios between 1971 and 1974. They testify to a lively inspiration and imagination combined with a precocious formal mastery that already carries the seeds of later developments, which the artist cleverly and inventively deployed in the field of visual arts. (François Bonnet, Paris, 2022)

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«La nef des fous» (1974), 12’00

There are pieces of music whose title is obviously a mere label given afterwards to a finished product. And others, on the contrary, which develop in spiral around a bundle of images and impressions condensed into a few words. This is the case indeed with La nef des fous. However, this work by Robert Cahen oddly wraps itself around its title, with bends, breaks, and an impetus driven further every time to close a new circle, for such is the very essence of the spiral. This, at least, is the way I perceive the form of the work, with its theme-chorus which, in part one, both ponctuates and disrupts the emerging musical curve in various ways and at irregular intervals, as well as its broader and more open second part, which closes with a recollection of the beginning of the work. The challenge of a musical form justified by the topic it illustrates, right down to its gaps, its wanderings and its twists, and which would confer upon it the necessity of a profound logic, that of insanity, is the challenge attempted by Robert Cahen. In such a genre as tape music, so careful with respect to form, one can appreciate its audacity. La nef des fous, or Unity through heterogeneity, or Each to their own madness, but all in the same boat. This means that if we can listen to each of these sound characters, “broken chants”, which create the work for themselves, through the singularity of their delirium, we can also, from one to the other, trace the continuous chanting of a music that is inherently and spontaneously poetic, a music that carries “the unconscious under its skin” (Christiane Sacco). (Michel Chion, January 1976)

«Masques 2» (1973), 08’34

Concert version (for tape only) of an audiovisual work entitled Masques, in which the faces of old dolls and «masks», filmed during the Basel Carnival, were projected in 16mm. Masques 2 is a metaphorical version of Masques in which music is featured in its arcane musicality.
Through its concrete and suggestive music Masques 2 aims to bring to light hidden memories, buried within us, thus enabling an awakening, the resurgence of events from our own history. (R. C.)

«Plurielles» (1971), 08’35

Premiered at the Paris Biennale, 24 September 1971. Suite based on the score of a TV film directed by Sophie Talmon.

«Persona» (1971), 08’34

Premiered at the Paris Biennale, 24 September 1971.

«Passé composé» (1971), 05’29

After the fall of the Deep City label, Rocketeers bandleader Frank Williams set up shop under the name of his twin daughters Saadia and Giwada and got to work reinventing the Miami Sound. Tracked between 1968-1970, this LP gathers 15 of Saadia's funkiest and deeply soulful moments, featuring Pearl Dowell, Joey Gilmore, Little Beaver, Frank Williams' Rocketeers, Robert Moore, Brother Williams, and Sam Baker. Your next sample, first dance, workout jam or closing credits is buried in here somewhere.

Super Funky Forest Green and Blue Splatter Vinyl.

After the fall of the Deep City label, Rocketeers bandleader Frank Williams set up shop under the name of his twin daughters Saadia and Giwada and got to work reinventing the Miami Sound. Tracked between 1968-1970, this LP gathers 15 of Saadia's funkiest and deeply soulful moments, featuring Pearl Dowell, Joey Gilmore, Little Beaver, Frank Williams' Rocketeers, Robert Moore, Brother Williams, and Sam Baker. Your next sample, first dance, workout jam or closing credits is buried in here somewhere.

Emerging from the depths of Cardiff’s burgeoning music scene, heirs to their country’s lineage of storytellers, are Slate. Formed by frontman Jack Shephard and drummer Raychi Bryant, the four-piece band are barely touching their twenties, but together, they have command of post-punk which rings with the gravitas of a death knell; a grasp of atmosphere and melody which touches on the ethereal.

With the addition of bassist Lauren Edwards and guitarist Elis Penri who completed the band at the end of 2021, the four bonded over the written word playing poetry games over pints. Together, they found an affinity with the surreal works of Arthur Rimbaud and the Welsh poets R. S. Thomas and Dylan Thomas, whose reverence for their country and its people bleeds into Slate’s own lyrics.

The 7" collects Slate's stunning 1-2 of debut singles 'Tabernacl' and 'St Agatha', which were both produced by Buzzard Buzzard Buzzard's Tom Rees. Both songs come loaded with frontman Jack Shephard's distinctive, poetic drawl, blistering yet gothic and ornate guitars and rollicking, road-ready drums. Together they offer a snapshot of a band born fully-formed and prove a statement of intent that's hard to ignore.

Of the track, Shephard explains: "'St Agatha' is the first song we wrote about being Welsh. Though, living in in the south, we each converge at the forefront of anglicisation. At the time of writing, we were indulging in literature, landscapes as well as each another, in an attempt to re-connect with much of our disregarded national identity. So much was left unrevealed to us in school. We read about a churchyard on the border, where some people are buried with their heads in Wales and their feet in England. It was the perfect place to tell the story of a conflicted protagonist. Severed at St Agatha’s, between there and the homeland

"Join us as we welcome back New York Underground Funk Band with “Funk & Soul”, “Wanna Be Free”, and a previoulsy unreleased EP-bonus track ""By The Time I Get To Phoenix"" from the early 1970s — all a more psychedelic take on their funk sound.

Funk & Soul states, “I’ve got funk and soul...don’t have to worry about a doggone thing” — and we’d have to agree. imagine Sly and the Family Stone getting Jimi Hendrix for a session, then asking him to drop a fuzzed-out guitar solo. You might then end up with “Funk & Soul” — the heaviest, fuzz-driven Sly track you’ve never heard. Though it’s also NYUFB from start to finish.

Now, you’re in the right frame of mind for “Wanna Be Free” — the deep funk B-side that trades out the spirit of Jimi Hendrix for the spirit of Jim Morrison. With all the respect that is due to these greats, NYUFB crafts their own psychedelic sound in this raucous cut that features thunderous drums and alluring interplay between organ and guitar. This was certainly designed to free your mind, and we believe the group succeeds.

The B Side holds a very special treat— dig New York Underground Funk Band’s version of “By the Time I Get to Phoenix,” the Jimmy Webb-penned classic that gets a heavy soul treatment on PP12007. While covered many times, this hyper-syncopated interpretation is a standout with its long rap intro, call-and-response style singing and shimmering vocal harmonies.

These three tracks comprise one of our most exciting releases yet, as that promising band from the New York or New Jersey area further displays their remarkable range. These songs simply cannot remain buried. They’ve finally found their way to you on PP12007, and we hope you’ll get a hold of it while you can."

"Join us as we welcome back New York Underground Funk Band with two more unreleased funk tracks from the early 1970s, “Funk & Soul” and “Wanna Be Free” — a more psychedelic take on their funk sound.

Funk & Soul states, “I’ve got funk and soul...don’t have to worry about a doggone thing” — and we’d have to agree. Yet another excellent track from NYUFB, though a little more psyched-out this time: imagine Sly and the Family Stone getting Jimi Hendrix for a session, then asking him to drop a fuzzed-out guitar solo. You might then end up with “Funk & Soul” — the heaviest, fuzz-driven Sly track you’ve never heard. Though it’s also NYUFB from start to finish.

Now that you’re in the right frame of mind from side A, you’re ready for “Wanna Be Free” — the deep funk B-side that trades out the spirit of Jimi Hendrix for the spirit of Jim Morrison. With all the respect that is due to these greats, NYUFB crafts their own psychedelic sound in this raucous cut that features thunderous drums and alluring interplay between organ and guitar. This was certainly designed to free your mind, and we believe the group succeeds.

These two tracks comprise one of our most exciting releases yet, as that promising band from the New York or New Jersey area further displays their remarkable range. These songs simply cannot remain buried. They’ve finally found their way to you on PP007, and we hope you’ll get a hold of it while you can."

Featuring exclusive performances by Donnie Emerson and Noah Jupe, score selections by Leopold Ross, plus vintage classics from Donnie & Joe Emerson -Includes the original version of the cult-classic hit, "Baby" -LP release housed in a gatefold jacket -Mastered by John Baldwin at Infrasonic Sound -Directed by Bill Pohlad, Dreamin' Wild, stars Casey Affleck, Zooey Deschanel, Beau Bridges, Noah Jupe, Walton Goggins, and Chris Messina // Acclaimed label Light in the Attic proudly partners with River Road, Zurich Avenue, and Roadside Attractions to release Dreamin' Wild Original Motion Picture Soundtrack. The film follows the real-life story of brothers Donnie & Joe Emerson, whose teenage dreams of rock stardom suddenly came true 30 years later. The soundtrack blends vintage recordings by Donnie & Joe (including the cult favorite "Baby") with exclusive new performances by Donnie Emerson, Nancy Sophia Emerson, and actor Noah Jupe, plus original score selections by composer Leopold Ross (Black Mirror, A Million Little Pieces). Jupe, who portrays a young Donnie Emerson, re-recorded several of the duo's classic songs for the film, including their debut single, "Thoughts in My Mind." The wistful ballad, which was written and recorded while the brothers were still in high school, was originally released in 1977 on their own Enterprise & Co. label. The soundtrack also includes "When A Dream Is Beautiful," a new song by husband-and-wife duo Donnie Emerson and Nancy Sophia Emerson, and recorded in Nashville by the film's music producer and multi-GRAMMYr winner Dave Cobb. Also available are Donnie & Joe's 1979 album, Dreamin' Wild, as well as the acclaimed 2014 collection Still Dreamin' Wild: The Lost Recordings 1979-81, which culls highlights from the brothers' prolific collection of songs. Additionally, fans can find exclusive Donnie & Joe merch at DonnieAndJoe . Adapted from a profile by journalist Steven Kurutz and written, directed, and produced by Oscarr and Emmyr-nominee Bill Pohlad (whose extensive credits include Brokeback Mountain, 12 Years a Slave, and the Brian Wilson biopic Love & Mercy), Dreamin' Wild stars Academy Awardr winner Casey Affleck, Emmyr-nominee Zooey Deschanel, Emmyr-nominee Walton Goggins, Chris Messina, Noah Jupe, Jack Dylan Grazer, plus Emmyr and Grammy Awardr-winner Beau Bridges. A true story of love and redemption, Dreamin' Wild centers around Donnie Emerson (Affleck/Jupe), a middle-aged singer-songwriter who learns that a record label is interested in reissuing the album that he and his brother recorded as teens in rural Washington State. Suddenly, the Emerson brothers find themselves thrust into the spotlight, as their 30-year-old album is hailed as a lost masterpiece. While the album's rediscovery brings hopes of second chances, it also unearths long-buried emotions as Donnie, his wife Nancy (Deschanel), brother Joe (Goggins/Grazer), and father Don Sr. (Bridges) come to terms with the past and their newly found fame. Named for the brothers' 1979 debut album, Dreamin' Wild is a River Road - Innisfree Production, produced by Academy Awardr-winner Jim Burke, Academyr and Emmyr-nominee Pohlad, Kim Roth, Viviana Vezzani, and Karl Spoerri. Casey Affleck served as executive producer, alongside Emmyr-nominee Christa Workman, Dan Clifton, Steven Snyder, and Tobias Gutzwiller. More about Donnie & Joe Emerson: Brothers Donnie and Joe Emerson grew up on a 1600-acre farm in Fruitland, WA with dreams of musical stardom. Far removed from the punk and disco scenes of the late '70s, the boys' inspiration primarily came from a tractor radio, which they listened to for hours on end while working the fields. In between farm duties and high school, the brothers spent their remaining time on music, with Donnie serving as the primary songwriter, vocalist, guitarist, and keyboardist, and Joe holding down the beat on drums. Donnie & Joe's parents encouraged their sons' talents - so much so that they leveraged the family farm in order to build a state-of-the-art recording studio, where the brothers self-produced their debut album, Dreamin' Wild. Released in 1979 on their own Enterprise & Co. label, the album offered a lo-fi blend of FM rock, pop, soul, and funk - evoking such contemporaries as Marvin Gaye, Hall & Oates, and the Brothers Johnson in songs like "Good Time," "Dream Full of Dreams," and "Baby." Despite the Emersons' passions, however, Dreamin' Wild wasn't the bestseller that they envisioned. In fact, it tanked, nearly bankrupting the family in the process. Donnie and Joe's dreams did actually come true though. It just took three decades and a heavy dose of kismet. Around 2008, record collector, actor, and Out of the Bubbling Desk blogger Jack Fleischer discovered a copy of the LP at a Spokane antique shop. Initially intrigued by the jacket image (which features the boys in flashy, Elvis-style jumpsuits), Fleischer was blown away by what he heard. Before long, word began to spread about the Emerson brothers, while their soulful ballad "Baby" became a viral hit, eliciting multiple cover versions (most popularly by Ariel Pink & Dâm-Funk). Since its digital release, the track has been streamed over 30 million times on Spotify. In 2012, Light in the Attic brought Dreamin' Wild to the masses, giving the Emerson brothers a second chance at stardom and an outpouring of long-overdue accolades, including features in the New York Times, Los Angeles Times, and The Guardian, a shout-out from Jimmy Fallon, and praise from the likes of Pitchfork, which called the 1979 album "A godlike symphony to teen-hood." The Emersons' inspiring story caught the ears of writer, director, and producer Bill Pohlad, who recently told PEOPLE, "Being able to go deep to explore this amazing family was the real reason that I was drawn to this material. Dreamin' Wild ultimately became a story about family, faith and forgiveness for me."

‘Life And Death - The Five Chandeliers Of The Funereal Exorcisms’ pulls back the veil unto a nocturnal scene populated by shadows, embers burning coldly in the underworld. Marina Zispin is your guide, siren and protector both. Marina Zispin is the negative space between musicians Bianca Scout and Martyn Reid. Love And Death is the duo’s debut release, five chandeliers of melancholic, vibrant synth pop twinkling in the inky blackness. Both originally hailing from the North East of England and forming a musical partnership before lockdown, Bianca Scout and Martyn Reid initially worked remotely. Having relocated to South London and Newcastle respectively, Marina Zispin was born in earnest after the duo could begin writing and practising in the same space. Bianca Scout is a celebrated musician and dancer with a number of solo and collaborative works in her discographywhile Martyn Reid is a mainstay of the UK noise and power electronics scene, most recently with solo project Depletion. Marina Zispin largely eschews both Scout’s deconstructed approach to song and Reid’s focus on visceral, noise- based productions; the result is a new entity, the underground pop star that exists only in darkened dreams. Marina Zispin, then, is an avatar cajoled, nurtured and directed by Scout and Reid. Analogue electronics redolent of the early 80s Cold Wave and Synth Pop era form the base of the Zispin worldview, with Bianca Scout donning the Marina disguise, embodying the character over five songs of swooning drama, playful melodic interplays and tear-stained, doe-eyed sentiment. Flowers In The Sea opens with an austere 4/4 beat and hypnotic synth parts before Scout/Zispin floats in across the lagoon. Scout’s vocal tone is an instant winner, sweet like honey pouring down over the cold, robotic productions and stereo-panned synth work. We can almost see the petals drift into the horizon before being pulled under by the artist’s sadness. Ski Resort bursts out with a Jacno-inspired bassline and backing that could have been buried in a French disco in 1982 (think Stereo or Linear Movement) before Scout’s narrative details frivolousness and regret before a magical shift for the final coda into major key. Backworth Gold Club closes Side A, a mysterious rigid beat and minor chord synth arpeggios swimming in space, floating and obscure. On Side B, Hymn carries the tone on, church-like synths holding down the pattern for Zispin/Scout to float above in a flowing gown of reverb. The marriage of Reid’s cold musical backbone and Scout’s effortless vocal and co- production is in full flow here, the vocals at times rising to the rafters of this nocturnal place of worship, at other points they’re fuzzy samples cutting in and drifting out or sung with an extreme autotune, abstract and perfect in the moment. Surprise Party is the most straightforward pop bullet, Scout/Zispin’s vocal peering out more from the fog, perhaps revealing more than usual: vulnerability, maybe, the wandering muse of the artists behind the veil or just another layer of mystery behind the enigma? Marina Zispin’s Life & Death - The Five Chandeliers Of The Funereal Exorcisms ends as it began, scintillating in obscurity, leaving everything unanswered but open.