Cerca:birds

Clear Vinyl / Pressed 180 grams.

Third Proces Kabaal Recut project offers three organic acid trips. Defenitely unformated live feelings out of conventions and in total cohesion of the Ned' acid music since ages.....

INFO :
A1 - Masscalation from BBQMasters is a repress from Proces Kabaal 02 (2003).
B1 - Why Birds Die In Our Court from Tamahata is a repress from Proces Kabaal 01 (2002)
B2 - 3000 from Smokescreensis a repress from Proces Kabaal 04 (2008).

Formed in Southend in the late 90’s, Beatglider’s tale is a familiar one taking in early acclaim only for momentum and promise to be dashed by major label statis and indifference.

After the release of the debut long-player, ‘40 Days Of Summer’, in 1999 the band signed to Sony subsidiary Lakota and decamped to LA to record its follow-up, ‘Dreaming Of Roads’, an album that was never to see the light of day.

And now, over 20 years later, ‘Dreaming Of Roads’ eventually gets a deserved release on 28th February via the Arlen label. A beautiful 11-track understated delight which musically falls somewhere between the likes of Elliott Smith, Grandaddy, Yo La Tengo and Sparklehorse, the album has not only stood the test of time, but arguably sounds as fresh as ever in 2026.
The tracklisting of the album - recorded in Los Angeles at the famed Sound City studios - is as follows:

Making a welcome return nine years on from his last outing on Dekmantel, Makam offers up a generous helping of wayward grooves that take his curious spirit even further into unmarked territory. With a strong dub sensibility grounding his rich tapestry of percussion and instrumentation, Guy Blanken follows his own path to arrive at an album that embodies house music as a launchpad for experimentation.

Blanken says himself he was determined to approach his first Makam productions in years from a place of total freedom — "It's not a single direction, but rather a landscape of sounds, moments, and textures. TARP feels like a new beginning, a free project that just had to happen naturally." The steady pulse of the club remains a guiding principle boldly manifested on heads down roller 'Static Shade', but even in the lilting organic loops and tumbling percussion of 'Forgive' there is a funkiness that's beholden to continuous movement.

At times the direct thump of 4/4 disco juts out as a call to dance, not least on 'Flying Birds' and 'La Tuna', but elsewhere the rhythms are more slippery. 'Dub In Loen' plots a delicate path through dub techno and 'Lummel Spirit' casts off into pattering Balearic bliss. The pervasive dub mood of the record comes to the fore on expertly crafted stepper 'Diagonal Rain' and crooked album opener 'Clear Skies'. 'Jackie B' lands as a love letter to quintessential deep house, and yet still there's a left-of-centre charm that gives the track a personality that is pure Makam.

Exuding warmth and imagination at every turn, TARP is the perfect example of how to make a groove-oriented album a rich home listening experience. There are ample moments primed for the spectacle of the dancefloor, but the mellow hue and broad sweep of approaches make Makam's welcome return utterly compelling from end to end.

rot/schwarzes Marble Vinyl. Offensichtlich parkverliebt_ eine musikgewordene Parksituation: Du schlenderst langsam durch das zerbrechliche Idyll inmitten der Stadt, die Luft ist kalt und klar, die Arme hinter dem Rücken verschränkt. Hochgewachsene Bäume spannen den Raum auf, gedämpfter Stadtlärm mischt sich mit dem Rascheln der Blätter, mehr oder weniger verwirrte Tiere sehen aufmerksam in Deine Richtung. Du setzt Dich auf eine Parkbank, hältst inne und fängst an Dich darüber zu freuen, wie schön das alles eigentlich ist. ParkWalkers emopop/slowcore sound ist bestimmt durch zwei cleane Gitarren (Hannes & Nicola), eindringliche Basslinien (Arnaud), entspannte Drums (Armin) und der warmen Stimme von Nicola. Melodien, die hängen bleiben, in meist klassischer Songstruktur. Die lieben 90er oder Nullerjahre lassen grüßen, vielleicht fällt einem American Football, Snow Patrol ein oder fühlt sich an Death Cab for Cutie und Weakerthans erinnert. ParkWalker haben sich 2018 gefunden, und leben verteilt in Berlin, Stuttgart und Karlsruhe. Klar in der DIY-Szene verwurzelt haben sie viele Stunden auf Bühnen im In-und Ausland mit verschiedenen Formationen verbracht, u.a. Tidal Sleep. Nach ihrem Debüt "Distant Phenomena" im Jahr 2021 ist für Herbst 2025 das zweite Album "The Extra Mile" bei This Charming Records geplant. Das Album wurde in den RAMA Studios aufgenommen und von Christian Bethge (z.B. Messer) produziert und gemastert

Un-easy listening from »anti-singer« and improviser Sofia Jernberg, a celebration of the voice in its rawest, most malleable form. Jernberg was born in Ethiopia and grew up in Vietnam and Sweden, so one can only imagine these diverse languages opened up a wealth of phonetic possibilities before she entered academia to study jazz and composition. If you dive into her catalogue you’ll clock her startling range – working as a jazz soprano and as an improviser, collaborating with everyone from Stefan Schneider to Mats Gustafsson, as well as appearances on the stage and screen, most notably in Matthew Barney, Erna Ómarsdóttir, and Valdimar Jóhannsson’s »Union of the North«.

On »Voice«, Jernberg provides a ground-level entry point to her work, meticulously running through a litany of unconventional techniques (non-verbal vocalisation, split tones, toneless singing, and distortion) without any effects, just pure batshit sonics designed to show off the voice’s scope as an experimental instrument. On »Mouth Synthesizer« she purses her lips to make ratcheting pops like some analog oscillator, hoarsely mimicking the sort of blustery, Merzbow-coded distortions you might get if you patched a RAT pedal into a broken guitar amp. It isn’t an act of caricature, it’s Jernberg’s way of demonstrating that expensive modular rigs aren’t an essential tool for experimental music, before throwing a side-eye to the field recording industrial complex on »Birds«, transforming her vocal chords into a nightmare aviary. But it’s Jernberg’s startling »multiphonic« experiments that hit hardest. The album opens on »Multiphonic I«, and it’s difficult to tell that you’re listening to a human voice at first – you could just as well be on Colin Stetson’s overblown sax airstreams. Jernberg creates a captivating spiral of crooked, phased tones and hoarse, guttural croaks that she develops over three movements. On »Multiphonic II«, her voice is turned into a storm of pained shrieks, and on the third and final segment, it almost resembles Arve Henriksen or Jon Hassell’s muted brass curlicues. Each track pulls a different musical muscle, whether it’s »One Pitch« with its unsettling yodel-like quivering drones or »Gurgle«, sounding like a close mic-ed recording of a small pot gently simmering.

2026 Repress

DJ Quik is a giant of West Coast hip-hop. With his fourth album Rhythm-Al-Ism he created his masterpiece, a perfect hip-hop album. As Quik explains, “the name Rhythm-Al-Ism alone tells you what I was doing. I was mixing up rhythms. I was meshing R&B with hip-hop and jazz. And a little bit of comedy”. It’s absolutely sensational and as with a lot of mid-90s albums those original vinyl copies are now rare so here’s the Be With re-issue.

A preternaturally gifted producer/rapper, DJ Quik has produced scores of LA gangsta rap classics. He’s released platinum and gold records of his own, as well as helped craft them for the likes of Tupac, Snoop Dogg, and Dr Dre. Quik has always been quirkier and more interesting than his gangsta rap peers, both musically and lyrically. An old-school funk producer at heart, he’s also incredibly nice on the mic. His raps often deal in boasts, jokes and good times but also cover his beefs, his trials and his trauma. Partying and pain, all mixed up. DJing and producing hype beat tapes from age 14, Quik’s tracks blended the languid funk and rubbery synths of Zapp and George Clinton with a gangsta aesthetic, creating a more danceable foil to Compton’s more typical nihilistic hedonism. Ultimately, his records sound custom engineered to drift out over sun-soaked barbecues.

Released in 1998 on Profile, Rhythm-Al-Ism was the closest Quik ever got to making a commercial splash. “You’z A Ganxta” and “Hand in Hand” made radio waves across the country and the less radio-friendly tracks like “Medley For A ‘V’” were bumping out of car stereos. Combining his soulful, jazzy P-Funk/G-Funk beats with his effortlessly smooth flow, Rhythm-Al-Ism was the quintessential West Coast Party. Squelchy synths, bouncy bass, monstrously knocking drums and freaky keys - this is peaking acidic party-rap, straight out the gate. Music for gliding, for skating, for time with your people and your poison. Sunshine. No cares. BBQs. Heavy smoke in the air. Dripping with wit and good humour. A real swing to the vibe.

The album opens with Quik setting out his mission statement with “Rhythm-Al-Ism (Intro)”, telling us what this is all about before the self-explanatory “We Still Party” rocks the spot. It’s definitely all about the party here, complete with Quik’s signature head-nod/body-moving beat. Next up, the undeniable laidback funk and dripping swing of groove-laden “So Many Wayz”. This positively slaps.

Then we get to the three huge singles. The R&B-tinged radio-friendly minor-hit “Hand In Hand” closes the first side only for the flip to get straight into the rolling and scratching of bleepy computer-funk banger “Down, Down, Down” (featuring a particularly nice use of Howard Johnson’s epochal “So Fine”). The effortlessly smooth, flute and guitar-laced “You’z A Ganxta” completes the trio. Next up the fast-paced, vocoder-enhanced, woulda-beena-global-hit “I Useta Know Her”. This coulda (shoulda) been a single too. Head-nod funk workout “No Doubt”, with its ace sample of Prince's “Sexy Dancer”, closes out the second side.

“Speed” races out the gate on the second disc, sampling Edwin Birdsong’s “Rapper Dapper Snapper” in a harder, better, faster, stronger way than those daft Parisian punks. Amphetamine-swift raps over soaring, string-drenched b-boy beats. A total anthem. Up next, the staggering, near 8-minute laconic, lounge-y sax-rap of “Whateva U Do” cools things down and smooths things out with its flute wrapping around a sample of Smokey Robinson’s “So In Love” and some oh-so-classy lounge-piano tinkling. And speaking of smooth, things don’t get much smoother than the blissfully melodic glider-anthem “Thinkin’ ’Bout U” riding that ace flip of SWV’s “Use Your Heart”. Exceptional.

The exquisite funky-flute-slapper “Medley for a ‘V’ (The P***Y Medley)” opens the fourth and final side, with star turns from Snoop Dogg and a typically suave Nate Dogg. It’s followed by the supremely skanked-out “Bombudd II”, a beautifully sweet reggae-fuelled ode to the herb. “Get 2Getha Again” is slick funk. Stunning.

This 2022 Be With double LP re-issue has been mastered for vinyl by Simon Francis, cut by Pete Norman and pressed at Record Industry. Unusual for the time, Rhythm-Al-Ism was originally pressed as a double and we’ve reproduced the original LA vibe picture sleeve and insert to match.

As that original front cover says, this is “over 70 minutes of commercial free music” and it’s absolutely perfect from start to finish. There are no stand-out tracks here. It’s all gold.
: Rhythm-al-ism (2LP)

Buoyed by an ever-evolving collage of pop influences, Mumble Tide’s work has regularly swung between the sweet and savage, the grungy and glistening. But at its heart is the meeting of two minds; singer-songwriter Gina Leonard and multi-instrumentalist Ryan Rogers. Over the last few years they have honed their distinctive brand of kaleidoscopic indie, all anchored by Leonard’s crystalline, plaintive voice.

Now, following a series of acclaimed singles and EPs, they return with new single ‘Pea Soup’, the third to be previewed from their upcoming debut album ‘Might As Well Play Another One’, to be released on the 1st May via Breakfast Records. Produced by Stew Jackson (Massive Attack), it’s their most self-assured and compelling work to date, a sweeping, orchestral vision of struggle, sadness, and the beauty in between.

Toronto-based musician and producer David Psutka’s long dormant Egyptrixx alias returns, with How Tidal. A compendium of sorts, which retells the story so far, reworks of highlights from his catalogue sit alongside brand new tracks, serving as a bridge between the past and the future, preceding more fresh music in 2026.
With the originals still sounding remarkably current, a straight best-of wouldn’t have been out of question, but ever the tinkering student of sound, Psutka thought he’d break them apart, just to see how he could put them back together again.

The music on is How Tidal is cutting-edge and futuristic, but never difficult, instead offering accessible gems where multiple strains of bass music are infused with a zingy, techno-pop bounce, whilst ambient moments gift sonic lozenges for maximum contentment. Psutka creates optimistically welcoming environments, where synthetic birds chirrup in cyan skies over babbling rainbow brooks, as 15 inch subwoofers boom by.

Egyptrixx gained renown across the 2010s with his hard hitting yet tranquil experimental dance music dubbed ‘celestial jeep music for a Saturn moon’. Colourful sound design was braided with dancefloor structures, creating an exhilarating tension between melodic and dissonant, euphoric and inward. The debut album Bible Eyes was released in March of 2011 to critical acclaim.

As Egyptrixx, Psutka has released four studio albums, collaborated, remixed, and toured with some of the biggest names in electronic music.
The widely acclaimed moniker is foundational to Psutka’s complex body of work that encompasses multiple solo projects, plus a diverse range of collaborative work. He has performed live at Sonar Festival, Roskilde, Mutek, MOMA PS1 Warm-UP and CTM Festival, and presented sound installations at Galeria Civica Commune di Modena and Art Gallery of Ontario (AGO).

In 2015, Psutka launched Halocline Trance as a home for his various sound projects, events and collaborations. In recent years, the label has quietly established itself as a platform that facilitates many of Canada’s most exciting creative music projects.

When you listen to birds, they usually talk about food, sex/family, or anxiety. If they knew about the true nature of humanity's cruel and exploitative relationship with birds, they would be discussing rebellion. Humanity's current trajectory about birds is to cause the extinction of one-third of all bird species by the end of this century.

This record crystallises the borders between memory, beauty, and anxiety. At the core is an amalgam of all the birds we have met and heard, their sounds synthesised from a blend of memories. Esthetically it simulates the qualities of bird sounds, hitting similar frequential sweet spots. There is a great variety of birds captured here, from high to low frequencies, from solo voices to groups, from birds standing on their own to complex world-building, where the bird voices are part of an ecosystem, becoming one of the instruments.

You could stop there, enjoying this record on a musical level, but it invites us to do one step further, to consider reconfiguring our relationship with the Earth and its inhabitants. To question our impact, and to ask why we need synthetic bird music. Is it just a visionary endeavour or is it because we are failing at fostering a world in which organic birds and other creatures can thrive?

32 artists from the whole world, including our favourite artists from Eastern Europe, have contributed to this compilation both with new and previously released music. Their music is ordered from dawn to dusk and into the night. For many of the artists it's their first time on mappa, but some have previously released an album with us.

Allowing yourself to find meaning or beauty in the mundane is an act of generosity, Whether it’s seeing a smiling face in an electrical outlet socket, or discerning cosmic design amidst the forest floor detritus, it comes from a place of kindness to yourself and senses – and openness to hidden spirit of the world. These tracks came together during a period of intense personal change for adaa, rooted in a fruitful reflection on the connections between spirit and body, “feeling my flesh so I can feel and understand my spirit,” as adaa puts it. The sense of a crossover and clash of multiple connected realities – on-screens, on-line, on-earth, off-world, after-life – unites adaa’s multifaceted productions.

Ostensibly an assemblage of found sounds. scribbled thoughts and poems from diaries, and musial snippets, the album's scattered production reflects adaa’s own many mirror worlds. Field recording sit behind most tracks, alongside VST synths, guitars, and a variety of voices, from adaa’s own mangled vox to EVP samples taken from YouTube (recorded sounds believed to be spirits or paranormal activity), all processed to varying degrees.

While the music was mostly produced either in adaa’s studio in Providence, Rhode Island, or in bed, the field recordings bring the outside world in. The result of walks in the woods, hum of roads and highways, hiss of beaches, warmth of walks with friends and past lovers “around the East Coast”. It sits behind tracks like ‘sight’ where a lilting piano lin bobs atop a pond of rustling and distant whistles. Is that birdsong? Or ghosts? Saccharine hyperpop arpeggiation crossfades sharply into noise guitar squall. Angelic demon voices yawn into a hefty crescendo. Pure drones duet with gales of undefinable field sounds.

“Sometimes I feel like a seed in frosted soil,” says adaa. “If i choose to be optimistic.”

From the opening notes – arriving as if in mid-air – to its final, cheerful burblings, Sean Mac Erlaine and Caoimhín Ó Raghallaigh’s Old Segotia is an album about friendship: both musical and human, the product of two distinctive musicians visiting each other’s worlds with a sense of veneration, and a sense of joyful wonder.
Here, Mac Erlaine (This is How We Fly, Quiet Music Ensemble) and Ó Raghallaigh (The Gloaming, This is How We Fly) meet on common ground developed over 20 years of playing together, with Mac Erlaine’s musical language rooted in jazz and sonic experimentation, and Ó Raghallaigh emerging from an Irish traditional music that he has shaped and reshaped in a deeply personal way.
In this place, Mac Erlaine and Ó Raghallaigh’s music is profoundly integrated and emotionally textured: at times bursting with explosive energy, at times almost sighing into life, but always searching. Here are the touching unison duets of ‘Cantandor’, the lyrical wanderings of ‘Swallow Dive’, or the flirtations with finding a groove in ‘Reverse Burst’.
The palette of instruments speaks to the album’s feeling of abundance, with Mac Erlaine performing on clarinets, chalumeau d’amore, three different flutes, car hooter, percussion, live electronics, Wurlitzer, synthesiser, vocals and alto saxophone; and with Ó Raghallaigh bringing his signature hardanger d’amore sound plus a turn on the flute and live electronics, too.
With the title echoing a well-worn Dublinese expression for “friend”, Old Segotia plays out with ‘Oiche Crua Sna Sleibhte’ (A Hard Night in the Mountains), with ornithologist Seán Ronayne’s field recordings of birdsong rising out of the musicians’ playful explorations, offering a taste of life echoing music, echoing life.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Junun is the debut collaborative album by composer Shye Ben Tzur, Radiohead guitarist Jonny Greenwood, and the Indian ensemble the Rajasthan Express. Originally released in November 2015, the album was recorded in a makeshift studio within the 15th-century Mehrangarh Fort in Jodhpur, India. Radiohead's longtime producer Nigel Godrich worked on the album, creating a 2LP/CD release. World Circuit is set to reissue Junun on 16th January 2026, marking the album's 10th anniversary. This special edition will be available as a 2LP Gatefold Yellow & Orange Marble vinyl and a CD digisleeve. The album features Ben Tzur's compositions, which incorporate devotional Sufi qawwal musicians singing in Urdu and Hebrew. Greenwood contributed guitar, bass, keyboards, ondes Martenot, and programming, aiming to use chords sparingly and instead focusing on North Indian ragas. The recording process sought to capture the ""roughness"" of Indian music, avoiding the high fidelity often found in world music recordings. The making of Junun was also documented by acclaimed filmmaker Paul Thomas Anderson, offering an intimate look at the creative process and vibrant daily life during the album’s production. His film, also titled Junun, debuted at the New York Film Festival in October 2015. Junun (an alternate spelling of ""junoon,"" meaning ""mania"" or ""the madness of love"") received widespread critical acclaim—including Album of the Year honors from The Sunday Times, who called it “one of the most inspired releases of the year” and “intriguing, sinuous, and essential listening”. The group also supported Radiohead's 2018 Moon Shaped Pool tour, performing under the name Junun.

“Yeah Yeah Yeah just arrived out of the blue. I just took a chance. I had some ideas for a new album I’d been working on, but we weren’t planning on recording until the year after. It all happened very fast. There was a window of opportunity- youth was free, the studio was free, and the band were free- and I thought, let providence prevail. No one had heard the songs apart from myself and Alan McGee, but we both thought that we had something. You could feel it, even though none of the songs were really finished, and so we decided to roll with it and go and record them. I think with Yeah Yeah Yeah it was more than just trying to capture a vibe- it was about trying to record something majestic, which is how youth describes the record. There are gospels and strings on tracks like Free Love and don’t look away, which have kind of turned into these massive anthems. It has P.P. Arnold as a featured vocalist on a couple of tracks- the first, the single poison vine, which has a groove and a blistering chorus. She’s also on another song that’s a psychedelic funk track: the way it’s gotta be (oh yeah). Songs like Teardrops or Birds Heading South- we’ve tried to capture that classic, slightly
Wistful theme- whereas the weight of the world just rocks out. There’s also a little acoustic track to break it all up called the devil and the deep, which is a favourite of mine. We recorded the album over in Spain at space mountain, Youth’s studio, way up in the mountains, just as the almond trees were in blossom- which I took as a good omen for the session”.

“Yeah Yeah Yeah just arrived out of the blue. I just took a chance. I had some ideas for a new album I’d been working on, but we weren’t planning on recording until the year after. It all happened very fast. There was a window of opportunity- youth was free, the studio was free, and the band were free- and I thought, let providence prevail. No one had heard the songs apart from myself and Alan McGee, but we both thought that we had something. You could feel it, even though none of the songs were really finished, and so we decided to roll with it and go and record them. I think with Yeah Yeah Yeah it was more than just trying to capture a vibe- it was about trying to record something majestic, which is how youth describes the record. There are gospels and strings on tracks like Free Love and don’t look away, which have kind of turned into these massive anthems. It has P.P. Arnold as a featured vocalist on a couple of tracks- the first, the single poison vine, which has a groove and a blistering chorus. She’s also on another song that’s a psychedelic funk track: the way it’s gotta be (oh yeah). Songs like Teardrops or Birds Heading South- we’ve tried to capture that classic, slightly
Wistful theme- whereas the weight of the world just rocks out. There’s also a little acoustic track to break it all up called the devil and the deep, which is a favourite of mine. We recorded the album over in Spain at space mountain, Youth’s studio, way up in the mountains, just as the almond trees were in blossom- which I took as a good omen for the session”.

Hello Spiral returns to the same North London block, the same triangulated geometry of balconies and courtyard, but with a shift of orientation. His previous record looked outward from the eighth floor, these four new recordings move inside, into the building’s arteries. Joe explores the hallways of the complex where he has lived and listened for years, using the same tool as before, an iPhone and its voice memo app. The recordings were made in situ, each exactly eleven minutes, captured without ceremony.

The hallways feel different. Less private, less scenic, more neutral. They are the connective tissue between hundreds of domestic units, a space of transit rather than rest. The carpet absorbs certain frequencies. The fire doors catch and release pockets of air. The lights hum. Elevators drone in soft cycles of arrival and departure. These are the institutional sounds of shared living, yet once recorded they begin to behave strangely. A kind of internal weather appears.

As with the previous album, Joe remains attentive to what is often overlooked, irrelevant or discarded. The hallways, with their scuffs and signage, their coded access and polite functionalism, provide an unexpectedly rich field. The ambience is not shaped by storms or scaffolding, not by birds or street spill. Instead the material is the building’s own breath, its mechanical rhythms, the low frequency traces of neighbours, the occasional shuffle of footsteps that pass but do not return.

Joe talks about this record as a possible middle chapter in a trilogy. If so, it sits between the exposed openness of the balcony and whatever comes next. A hinge point. These recordings continue Joe’s long practice of defamiliarization, sharpening attention to the unnoticed while withholding narrative. They invite repeated listening, not for revelation, but for the subtle shifts that occur when a familiar space is treated as an instrument.

'In 2023, sound artist and composer Weston Olencki toured across the American South. Beginning in their hometown in South Carolina, they snaked a circuitous path from the mountains of West Virginia to the banks of the Mississippi River. As the miles accumulated, so did the initial seeds of new work.
'Instruments and artifacts they acquired hitched a ride in the backseat, while songs and sounds filled their portable recorder: water in its various states, the familiar insectoid buzz of those summer nights, trains cutting through the landscape, the traditional music that lived alongside the communities that kept it. Olencki took it all in, and over time, found ways that these experiences coalesced into a bramble-like perspective of time, where past, present, and future intersect in ways both barbed and beautiful.
'Broadsides, Olencki’s newest solo full-length is the multilayered result of this journey. The album follows their landmark release Old Time Music from 2022, which presented radical interpretations of traditional tunes from Appalachia and throughout the South alongside original compositions that drew significantly on archival recordings. On Broadsides, Olencki rejects delineations between the unmoored avant-garde and the rootedness of one’s cultural heritage, revealing their porous and intertwined nature. “My mother was a quilter. Her mother before that,” they write in the album’s liner notes. “Quilting, like music, is a practice of embedding knowledge and remembrance into the very core of the thing you are making. It’s not just about the materials, but how they’re reassembled, recontextualized, stitched, woven to form new patterns - the minutiae of craft holding significance to those looking to find it. Stories woven from stories, never told the same way twice.”
'Like all great road trips, Broadsides unfolds slowly and continuously, with moments of dramatic reverie punctuating the endless melt of highway in the rearview. We’re immediately confronted by the uncanniness of revisiting old haunts, as Southern storms break through the initial churn of the freight locomotives of Alabama. Olencki’s interpretation of the bluegrass standard “Foggy Mountain Breakdown” captures the euphoria of melancholy in motion. The permutational plucks of banjo are bounced around the frame by a computer, its pitches determined within algorithmic sequences and transcriptions of classic three-finger licks. The tonalities of old-time are smeared and stretched until all that’s audible is the insistence that Heaven might be real.
'In the album’s second half, “Omie Wise,” a murder ballad made famous by Doc Watson, follows an interlude recorded on the river in North Carolina in which the titular character’s body was laid. Ghostly echoes of a dozen other renditions float through the substrata as Tongue Depressor’s Henry Birdsey accompanies them on the pedal steel guitar. The album’s central composition, “all my father’s clocks,” is a profound meditation on entropy and impermanence. The sound of their father’s extensive clock collection ticks away as Olencki pulls a bow across the length of an autoharp sourced from a rural strip mall. The instrument was left as detuned as it was found, the resonance of its deep bass drone and clanging high-end the result of years of neglect and the warping effects of Southern humidity.
'Historically, broadsides were an early form of broadcasting, an often- musicalized telling of current news pasted in the public square. The name was later taken up by Sis Cunningham and Gordon Friesen in the 1960s, whose Broadside magazine published songs and social commentary when American folk music resurfaced as an urgent way of communicating the multifaceted politics of its time.
'Olencki borrows the phrase to recall both this old form of songmaking and that later prominent reexamination of traditional music’s role in modern life, but also to draw attention to the fragmented and machine- mediated way heritage is diffused in this very different, but no less pivotal, moment.
'As a sanitized past is used as justification for current violence and domination, we can turn to these artifacts to better understand the history of ourselves, but only if they are consciously pushed to evolve. Broadsides represents one personal, striking vision of what far-flung futurisms could be respun from = these high, lonesome sounds: a reflection of the unbridled joy and deep sorrow inherent to living together through time, and a desire to push further into the untold and unknown.'