Cerca:body void

Atrocity Machine is the latest full-length album from the Vermont-based doom metal band, Body Void. The album, which was released on October 13, 2023, features six tracks of heavy, crushing, and atmospheric soundscapes that delve into themes of environmental collapse, societal decay, and the darker aspects of the human psyche. Atrocity Machine marks a further evolution of Body Void's sound, incorporating more complex song structures and a greater emphasis on dynamics. The album's lyrics are also particularly poignant, tackling issues such as climate change, social inequality, and the devastating consequences of industrialization.

Rhythmic Brutalism' is the title of this release, available as a two CD set or two separate LPs, the title is also a very apt description of the music itself. Romanian-born Alexandra Atnif was fascinated by the harsh, grey concrete beauty and minimally repetitive force of the brutalist post-war architecture of her homeland, and this fascination has given rise to the music here. Vol. 1 is an EM Records edition, compiled from an earlier self-released double CD featuring recordings from 2014-15. Vol. 2 consists of previously unreleased recordings from 2015 to 2017. Using elemental, inexpensive technology, Atnif' s music is heavy and harsh, stripped down to distressed skeletal frameworks, rhythmic noise, rusting metal and weathered concrete, a distorted DIY realization of her beautifully brutal vision. With a background in European modernist/avant-garde music, Atnif has been influenced by early rhythmic industrial music such as Throbbing Gristle, Esplendor Geometrico and Muslimgauze, as well as later practitioners of rhythm and noise including Pan Sonic, Autechre, Winterkälte, Prurient and Scorn. Across the relatively brief span of years contained within these two volumes, we hear the rhythmic structures begin to fracture and fray, and the outlines darken and become more obscure, with Antif's sensibility evident throughout.

The new label R.I.T.M.O. launches its journey with a clear statement of intent: VOID RIFT QUANTUM, a six-episode cosmic voyage by WHITE SOLAR DOG, complemented by two premium remixes from UNIVAC and PROMISING YOUNGSTER. The EP opens with “VOID RIFT QUANTUM” a dark, expansive electro exercise where crushing basslines, syncopated rhythms, and a dialogue between vocoders and acid lines evoke an interplanetary landscape. On “I.N.S.I.D.E.” the intensity ramps up through driving percussion, tribal voices, razor-sharp breaks, and an almost ritual force that propels the body into physical and mental trance.

UNIVAC’s reinterpretation of the title track unleashes his full arsenal: a steely remix of relentless energy that pushes the original into a hard-edged industrial realm, stamped with the unmistakable signature of the Catalan producer. “MOVE YOUR BODY” showcases WHITE SOLAR DOG’s most direct side: classic electro with heavy bass, pads, and bright melodies, where the machine calls the dancefloor to action without compromise. The journey reaches its most ethereal point with “SING TO ME” where a female vocal intertwines with broken rhythms, crystalline atmospheres, and fresh acid incursions—cementing WSD’s personal hallmark: equal parts intensity and spirituality. The release closes with Promising Youngster’s remix, which takes the vocal elements of “SING TO ME” and guides them into a hypnotic state, suspended between the dreamlike and the club. With VOID RIFT QUANTUM, R.I.T.M.O. presents its inaugural catalog, distilling the power of contemporary electro and the otherworldly vision of WHITE SOLAR DOG. A debut that clearly establishes its coordinates: impact, exploration, and progressiveness, introduces itself to the world through an inaugural catalogue that distills the present and future of electro: mysticism, power, and precision.

All covers are handmade. They feature a fluorescent strip along the sides for easy identification, and under black light, the Spanish version of the cover is visible. Each disc contains three handmade inserts: a pop-up of R.I.T.M.O., a template, and a paper synthesizer model based on the actual synthesizers used to create the album (a different one on each disc). Each disc comes in a plastic sleeve.

All covers are handmade. They feature a fluorescent strip along the sides for easy identification, and under black light, the Spanish version of the cover is visible. Each disc contains three handmade inserts: a pop-up of R.I.T.M.O., a template, and a paper synthesizer model based on the actual synthesizers used to create the album (a different one on each disc). Each disc comes in a plastic sleeve.

First Contact features CROÍ, Lukey, KAIR, Sahm, and HVSN. Our first release is a compilation of tracks that we’ve been collecting and to seize all the styles and genres which we will deal with in the future.

‘First Contact’ is the first song of the VA, opening with an invitation with a combination of a nostalgic ambience followed by the drums that go along with the vocals pointing to the start for our journey. In Irish, the word "CROÍ" (pronounced KREE) means "heart". ‘Target Lock’ from Lukey, is a track that will definitely surprise you. This song is meant to push you back to the dance floor with a feeling which you don’t get very often from listening to these kinds of songs. Everything is cool with ‘Target Lock’, drums, nice trippy vibes, and how the bass fits there… You should be blown away by this song. In a real old school style! Lukey has previously caught the eye of industry labels like Hot Creations, also his release on Carpet & Snares Records, Into The Wizard's Sleeve, The Void Project was hammered by some of the great DJ’s in the world.

KAIR introduces himself to us in his own way with ‘Let's Get it!’ Because this bomb won’t fail to make you dance and feel good! It’s pure house and joyful music that makes you dance and get lost within the music. Also, ‘Let's Get it!’ is just a preview of the upcoming EP. ‘Rainbown’ is a track which shows us that Sahm knows how to come out with a brilliant house track. A groovy old school house with heavy percussion, comes from a young talented producer from Brazil! This will be the track that you’ll be playing years from now on. And ‘Bust This’, you will hear among the bass, the claps and drums, a high energy that will make you move your body. HVSN presents his vision of how to bring the right emotions of a dance floor full of energy and the connection between the bass, synth, drums and melody is back!

Enjoy, This Is Real Talks Records.

VA – First Contact RTR001 incl CROÍ, Lukey, KAIR, Sahm, HVSN

This is the story of an artist in search of sound and breath: an artist who dares to question the rhythm of silence—an invitation to rethink music, sound, and musical collaboration. This is the story of a journey that, after opening countless paths, has finally found its vessel—and its messengers. Three artists of profound musical truth and radical freedom, merging into an exceptional trio that crosses genres and transcends words in a journey toward pure emotion.

Le Rythme du Silence is the culmination of this long search. Yom delivers it here with violinist Théo Ceccaldi and cellist Valentin Ceccaldi—kindred spirits in sound. “I’ve been working on this idea of the ‘rhythm of silence’ for years,” Yom explains. “I first heard the phrase from a Sufi master, describing the foundation of meditation. It struck something deep in me. I’ve practiced meditation for a long time, and we often think of it as a kind of stillness—opposed to noise and life. But in truth, the rhythm of silence enables meditation. It means accepting that the world continues to move and live around you, even as you try to be still. I wanted to compose from that place. To imagine sound as vibratory matter—the primal substance of creation. That required letting go of fixed structures: forgetting melodies, abandoning the idea of a constructed solo. I needed to leave behind music as a system, and touch sound as a living, breathing entity. It took years. Many projects led me elsewhere. But with the Ceccaldi brothers, I finally found the right resonance. Working with them was simply obvious—it was indredibly powerful.”

Yom first rose to prominence reimagining Jewish traditional music with his 2008 debut New King of Klezmer Clarinet. Since then, his path has led through rock (With Love, 2011; You Will Never Die, 2018), electronic utopias (The Empire of Love, 2013), meditative and sacred soundscapes (Prière, 2018), and countless unclassifiable hybrids (Unue, 2009; Green Apocalypse, 2010). It was inevitable that he would eventually cross paths with the free-spirited Théo and Valentin Ceccaldi—two artists who also place collaboration and genre-blurring at the heart of their artistic development. Their projects are always bold, demanding, and full of life (Kutu, Tricollectif, ONJ, Velvet Revolution, Grand Orchestre du Tricot, Lagon Noir, Constantine, etc.). And so, when the three met within the iXi string quartet, something clicked.
“I was seated between the two of them in the quartet,” Yom recalls, “and I could feel their energy flowing from both sides—it was wild! They’re so tuned into each other, they don’t need words. It’s like they’re connected by musical Wi-Fi. The groove happens instantly. They’re precise when they want to be—thanks to their experience in pop-influenced projects —but they can also let go completely, diving into pure sound. That’s exactly what this project needed.”

Without a single rehearsal, the trio formed instinctively. They began performing Yom’s compositions live, unfolding them into a single continuous piece, where clarinet and strings stretch the limits of sound and breath.
Bowed, plucked, or prepared with clothespins, the Ceccaldi strings engage in a playful and intense dialogue with Yom’s custom B-flat clarinet. Through their imaginative listening and fearless invention, air and space open into a vast new soundscape—one that lies somewhere between meditation and healing music.

“When Yom shared the concept of the rhythm of silence, we were immediately drawn in,” says cellist Valentin Ceccaldi. “There’s a deep intensity and spiritual commitment in his music that really spoke to me. With this trio, we’re trying to dive into the core of sound—but also to create a kind of communion with the audience. It’s like gradually turning up the volume on silence, and realizing it’s made of countless tiny sounds—the music of particles in motion" This stripped-down intensity demands full presence—body and mind—of these three musicians, vibrationally connected in a state close to trance. With them, we enter a journey - not religious, but sacred nonetheless.
The Rhythm of Silence becomes an echo of our most intimate, most distant inner landscapes.
An album—and a trio—to return to without end.

AN ATLAS OF LOSS

Do minerals dream of becoming semiconductors? Do they yearn to carry charges, amplify, switch, and convert energy into emotions comprehensible to humans? And what if, from the darkness of the underground, they had been listening to us sing in caves before the emergence of the first flute? Could they have guided us, through the course of history, to find them, extract them, and create new sounds through sinusoidal waves, to form valves and bend circuits?

If so, minerals would transition from what philosopher Eugene Thacker defines as the ‘planet’—that virginal and unreachable realm for humans that we study through geology, paleontology, and environmental sciences—to the ‘world,’ the space we inhabit, interpret, and synthesise in our daily lives. Sadly, we only remember the world when it erupts violently, through climate catastrophes or when a new virus emerges. Sometimes a tsunami collides with a nuclear plant, or viruses are cultivated as biological weapons in high-security laboratories, provoking a deep biological anxiety, hard to quell, which we all feel beneath our skin.

There exists a third realm, disconnected from both the world and the planet: the ‘earth’, an immense, dense rock floating in space alongside other planets, situated in the cosmological dimension. Relating to the earth is so complex that we only do so through theoretical speculations of a scientific nature or through science fiction, interweaving until one becomes the prophecy of the other, in an infinite, pendular dance. Beyond the darkness of space and Lovecraft’s cosmic horror, the fantasy of human extinction is the most recurrent: to reach a collapse so devastating that we do not survive it, even though the earth does, without us.

In a world where we quantify everything through body sensors, financial algorithms, nanometre-scale robots, and surveillance drones—a world in which everything that can be domesticated and controlled can also be commodified—a superior artificial intelligence would survive the collapse of the species (some speculate it might even cause it) and learn from our mistakes, thanks to our obsessive gathering of data.

Long after our voices fade, minerals will persist in the darkness of screens, in the silicon of chips, and in their pure form, still unexploited underground. Over the millennia, this intelligence might piece together fragments of our reasoning, as if an alien civilization finally connected with one of our spacecrafts loaded with messages cast into the void. It would sort through endless streams of data, unable to grasp the depths of emotion behind what it quantified, recreating simulations of our past, stripped of the nuance that once defined us and conducting experiments in sandboxes.

Some remnants of our existence—faint echoes of forgotten beauty—would be pieced together in an atlas of loss, buried beneath layers of numbers, decayed bots, and corroded hard drives. What will follow? Perhaps bison will once again roam—trotting to the strange pulse of techno, their ancient forms framed by the ruins of our cities.

Buildings will crumble, slowly dissolving under the soft touch of ambient music, and a thousand flowers will bloom with that ancient music created through electrical signals and computation. 7 songs for a future both improbable and inevitable—a final message from a world lost to itself, from planet Earth to planet Earth.

Alfons Pich, 2025

Occult Vision; a new LP based imprint, offers a space for artists to share a more complete body of their work. We create windows into the deeper, alternative and often more authentic sounds of carefully selected artists. It's rare a producer in the underground house and techno scene has this type of platform and Occult Vision aims to fill the void. Our first album is from one of Frankfurt's finest producers, Frank Heinrich. Known to most as Reboot and sharing what will be his first solo LP since 2016, we have here an intricately crafted collection of music that was brought to life during the lockdown phase of the pandemic. This unique time had a resounding impact on Franks creativity in the studio, leading to a sound that strongly represents his emotions throughout that period. The tracks we have helped to curate for this release are often melancholic, yet hopeful with carefully placed textures and rhythms carrying a stripped back yet emotive energy throughout. This isn't your typical club music; it's more personal and meant as a listening experience. "On A Grind" presents the harshness and rawness of that period for so many of us and whilst you will hear Reboots style weaved into these tracks, Frank hopes that you will feel the passion and emotions put into this record accompanying you in your own moments of reflection.

With a sonic palette coated in majestic melodies, luscious sound design, and masterful mixdowns, drum & bass duo GLXY have been creating some of the highest calibre liquid drum and bass since their emergence in 2015. Raising the levels once again with their latest body of work, Shogun Audio proudly presents the 'Fear, Ego' EP, a six-track, stripped-back masterpiece that sees Jon & Tom combine a handful of idyllic productions with collaborations with Lenzman, Halogenix, and Zoe Kypri.

Hot off the back of their 'By Design' EP, this latest project sees the duo further cement their beguiling signature sound whilst venturing into new spaces that encapsulate their ability to continuously keep things fresh year after year. Emitting sumptuous amounts of soul, sonic serenity, and superb sampling, the 'Fear, Ego' EP effortlessly wanders across moods in the most brilliant of fashions.

Whether you're listening to groove-laden sounds of 'Unconditional', their first collaboration with Halogenix, the dark and techy sounds of '3C Roller', or Lenzman's vibrant remix of 'New Soul', this EP is packed full of flavours that will appeal to fans across the drum & bass spectrum.

Laurel Halo returns with an album of original soundtrack music, composed for the film Midnight Zone by visual artist Julian Charrière. Following the path of a drifting Fresnel lighthouse lens as it descends through the Clarion-Clipperton Fracture Zone — a remote abyssal plain in the Pacific Ocean, rich in rare metals and increasingly targeted for deep-sea mining — the film traces a descent into one of Earth’s last untouched ecosystems.


Charrière’s film reveals the deep not as void, but as a luminous biome teeming with fragile life: bioluminescent creatures, swirling schools of fish, and elusive predators. The suspended lens becomes an abyssal campfire, attracting species caught in the tides of uncertainty, their futures hanging in the balance.


Echoing this tension, Halo’s compositions evoke a sensory freefall, where gravity falters and light and sound flicker in uncertain rhythms. Midnight Zone is a sonic drift through the space between what we seek to extract, fail to understand, and must protect.


Halo’s score evokes the life that exists beyond our physical airbound capacity. The material features long, subtle passages of electro-acoustic ambient, drone and sound design, slowly flowing and unfolding with rich detail. The music, composed largely on a Montage 8 synthesizer and Yamaha TransAcoustic piano at the Yamaha studios in New York City, possesses an uncanny quality: that of synthetic waveforms being amplified and sung through the stringboard of the physical body of the TransAcoustic piano. Combined with stacks of violin and viol da gamba, the music on Midnight Zone possesses trace elements of a human hand in an otherwise sunken landscape. Patient, submerged, and alive. The album will be the third on Halo’s imprint, Awe.


The film is central to Charrière’s current solo exhibition Midnight Zone. The exhibition engages with underwater ecologies, exploring the complexity of water as an elemental medium affected by anthropogenic degradation. Reflecting upon its flow and materiality, profundity and politics, its mundane and sacral dimensions, the solo show acts as a kaleidoscope, inviting us to dive deep.

2026 Repress

Flickering in ultraviolet, there is an elusive place where blue pill meets red, ups become downs, and day merges with night. Those liminal spaces where anything is possible is where you’ll find Nightbus and their hypnotic debut album Passenger. Doom, uncertainty, and opportunity lurk in the shadowy corners of their murky existence with stops at disassociation, co-dependency, and addiction before reaching its final destination - a glimmer of hope.

The in-between of Nightbus’ own Gotham lies where Manchester’s city pulse meets Stockport’s outer realm. An audio-visual entity formed among a musical family of friends, freaks, and foes in messy mills and after hours on dancefloors alike, their sound bleeds from tension where collective creative forces are bound together and collide with the fallout of being torn apart. Before even playing a show, their So Young released single ‘Mirrors’ – a knowing nod of respect to some well-known gloomy Northerners - may have made old school indie heads shimmy at shows in Salford’s The White Hotel but also signalled the duo’s knack for offering listeners a Bandersnatch approach to hitchhiking their own personal Nightbus in whatever direction they choose to take. “Everyone can have their moment with our songs; the music is our response to who we are as young people, living in the city full of this energy right now,” they say.

Whilst reverb hefty melodies and dread-filled loops embody isolation from writing at each of their home studio set-ups, magic happens in the ether across 90s trip-hop, indie sleaze and electronica; Jake’s production layers Olive’s pop sentimentality with drums and samples whilst tales of a cast of faceless characters place Olive as puppet master; her severed self’s perspective manipulating their stringed limbs at arm’s length to see how their stories play out when scenes reflecting her own lie close to the bone. “It’s a bit fucked; like having this out of body experience with a made-up movie running through my head,” she says. “As I write I can see they’re all from a similar world, but they allow me to explore different feelings without giving away part of myself.”

Recorded at The Nave in Leeds with producer-engineer Alex Greaves (Heavy Lungs, Working Men’s Club), surprise and danger lies in every crevice. Brooding whispers turn to chants on 6-minute opus ‘Host.’ Improvised when performed live, its immersive shift in tempo leads to hefty dub courtesy of Jake’s pedals. Even then, you won’t know shit’s hit the fan until its mid-point reveal when ominous bass blasts a thunderous soundtrack as its protagonist defiantly walks away after committing the perfect crime. “It makes you wait, and more songs should have sirens,” Olive grins.

Leaning deeper into alter-egos via the video game-psychological horror of a Silent Hill dystopia, the band’s Fight Club moment ‘Angles Mortz’ turns its literal translation of death angles on its head as it reflects upon kink and internalised shame reincarnated as pride. Elsewhere the ice cool ‘Landslide’ is a Requiem for a Dream about the addiction of being in a band; ‘The Void’ explores co-dependency and estranged relationships; and carefully selected samples revive house track ‘Just A Kid’ from the band’s early incarnation. Passenger’s every direction is to face challenges head on. “That is what’s so great about horror; you can see through predictable patterns so when the unexpected occurs it's more realistic and uncomfortable… I want to own the dark stuff!”

As for Passenger’s first single, the pulsating ‘Ascension’ is a spiralling deep dive into death, suicide, and legacy around who or what we leave behind. A noughties club banger by way of NYC beats - ergonomically designed for those who like to stay out a little too often and too late - it throbs like a house party’s partition wall as the literal levelling up undergoes a neon transformation; blue glitching to pink, diffusing the white construct of the Nightbus Matrix. “It really does feel like the end of something and was purposely written that way,” they say, “the ascension is like a firework going off!”

With wheels in motion, Nightbus has become a movement surpassing sonic realms. Between shows from Porto to Brighton taking in The Great Escape, Rotterdam’s Left Of The Dial and Paris’ Supersonic; DJing; remixing; guesting (BDRMM’s Microtonic album); and even enlisting talented like-minds to craft a 3-part queer coming-of-age music video series which ties in with a new ‘hyperpop’ phase in the evolution of their popular Nightbus Soundsystem club night, heads are now being turned from sports brands to high-end fashion designers. “There are things we can’t reveal just yet,” tells Olive, “but we’re excited about the direction this beast we’ve created is heading.” As the album philosophises and asks one ultimate question; what does it truly mean to be ‘Passenger’? Nightbus may not claim to offer a definitive answer, but it might make you feel a bit better about those demons.

Final LP of a productive year for Feral Child is an absolute cracker. The latest of a long line of superb full lengths from Stephen James Buckley's incendiary Polypores project. This one is arguably his most adventurous outing to date, the undeniably psychedelic “Hungry Vortex”. Four extended pieces exploring polyrhythmic fixations and cosmic jazz-prog freak-outs. Percussion-heavy opener ‘The Body Is The Spaceship’ is a fine example of the sort of seamless organic growth we tend to see in Polypores’ music, with slewed synth blips and rolling polyrhythms gradually twisting into unrecognisable strands of melody and unconventional groove before your very ears.

The prog-heavy ‘Wizards!’ sees Buckley’s trademarked playful use of time-signature changes, providing such a wealth of emotional and stylistic variance and immeasurable enjoyment without changing key once (honestly, who needs keys). It’s brilliantly evocative too and could indeed perfectly soundtrack a mushroom-trip wizard march. As we flip the record over, the flutey flourishes and minimalist clicks of the title track draw the listener into a trancelike state, repeated movements spiralling like myriad creatures crawling over a candy-coloured horizon, echoing forth into an inviting sonic oblivion. It’s ostensibly electronic, yet somehow more natural organism than machine, with little concern for the grid, or indeed, the rules. Finally, we end on something a little more subdued - the reassuring classicism of the beautiful ‘Void High’, with washes of warm noise and wobbly delay lines whirring and twinkling away, closing the record with an experience that is undeniably emotional, spiritual and as always, uniquely Polypores. This is a wonderful record with which to close the year out, it comes in a magnificent, spot varnished Jake Blanchard sleeve. A superb record released as a one time only vinyl pressing.

Utter presents Marshall Jefferson's previously unreleased meditation opus 'Yellow Meditation For The Dance Generation' alongside two remixes from French production maestro Joakim.

Marshall Jefferson: Chicago House music pioneer, creator of the anthemic ‘Move My Body’, an original collaborator of Adonis, Ce Ce Rogers and Roy Davis Jr., production mastermind of countless dancefloor classics such as Phuture’s ‘Acid Tracks’, Sterling Void’s ’It’s All Right’, Hercules’ ‘7 Ways’… and the soothing voice behind a 36 minute healing meditation guide. Yes, really.

But let’s rewind, slightly.

In 2017, Marshall was approached and encouraged by Ian ‘Snowy’ Snowball to write his autobiography and the pair set about putting Marshall’s account of the history of House music together. The book, ‘Marshall Jefferson: Diary of a DJ’ was published in 2019.

Following the book’s release, Ian and Marshall's collaboration continued and during the pandemic an outlandish idea arose to create a piece of music combining Ian's interest in meditation (he runs Club Chi specialising in Shibashi Qigong - a form of Tai Chi Qigong - which is a gentle form of movement therapy/exercise) and Marshall's willingness to experiment musically to see what might be possible.



The result is ‘Yellow Meditation For The Dance Generation’, where Marshall vocalises Ian’s lyrics in his instantly recognisable voice. The keen-eared out there may also recognise aspects of the music itself as a stripped back, lengthened and far mellower version of Marshall’s 1985 obscurity ‘Vibe’:

“I would take tapes to the Music Box and Ron Hardy would play my music. ‘Vibe’ was one of those tracks. I recorded ‘Vibe’ in 1985, but it became one of my tracks that I just forgot about until some guy on Facebook sent me a recording of it that was taken from a club. The only person who I ever gave a recording of ‘Vibe’ to was Ron Hardy. The other people I know who had copies of the track were Gene Hunt and Emanuel Pippin (DJ Spookie).

"The original version of ‘Vibe’ was made using a Roland 707, Roland JX-8P keyboard and a Roland 727 drum machine. I was still working at the Post Office at the time, and this was pre-‘Move Your Body (The House Music Anthem)’. ‘Vibe’ has the building blocks for ‘Move Your Body’ because it was using the instruments on the track that I discovered what I could do with the bass sound, to make a track like ‘Move Your Body’.”



Still, Ian’s initial intention for ‘Yellow Meditation’ was function and it was designed to be a ‘Sequential Relaxation Exercise’ focusing on the Solar Plexus. Bearing this in mind, Marshall took a bare-bones and hypnotic approach to this particular re-recording of ‘Vibe’ so that the voice takes centre stage and listeners (hopefully) find themselves on a meditative journey. In fact, this long-form track was always intended as a private tool purely for meditation at Club Chi rather than released to the public - after all, Marshall had also created and released a more drum heavy, ’traditional’ club-focused 'Vibe Three' instrumental version for that very purpose - but a chance airing of the full 36 minute version changed its path.



Much like those 1985 ‘Vibe’ cassettes, Marshall had sent the track to a few close contacts, one of whom was Kieran at Phonica Records who aired it over the shop’s basement soundsystem. Its unorthodox nature caught the ear of colleague Alex (of Utter) and the seeds of a physical release were planted.

Eventually, with the full-version carefully whittled down to a vinyl friendly length of 24 minutes, full track parts in hand and a b-side to fill, Alex sought out one of his favourite producers to take up the remix reigns: Joakim. The Tigersushi co-founder and Crowdspacer boss has a long history of boundary-pushing remixes that straddle both dancefloor functionality and experimentation. This time the original material resulted in Joakim coming up with a number of ideas and he finally delivered two versions - one club focused (‘Vertical’), the other more introspective and meditative (‘Horizontal’), both of which appear on the final 12”.

The limited edition 12” also includes a download code giving buyers access to all of the vinyl tracks plus an 18 minute extended version of Joakim’s ‘Horizontal’ remix, its instrumental counterpart (for those who can live without Marshall's voice) and full 12 minute acapella (for those who can't!)


Alex

a A1. Yellow Meditation For The Dance Generation (Edit) 24:00
b B1. Yellow Meditation For The Dance Generation (Joakim's Vertical Remix) 9:09
9:05

Nu-hardcore quintet, Bodyweb, are the sound of someone’s nervous system on the verge of breakdown—hyperactive, tormented and unflinchingly vulnerable. Born out of the Leeds hardcore scene, they’re a shape-shifting alloy of jagged emotion and precision chaos. What began as late-night jams between Louis Hardy (Higher Power, Big Cheese, Fate) and Ben Jones (Pest Control) eventually mutated into train_wreck_simulation, a debut EP filled with frantic breakdowns and nu-metal swag that felt like the soundtrack to a digital exorcism. The final piece of the puzzle came from Hardy’s estranged childhood friend, pq. His twisted samples and synthetic textures are haunted and disturbed, injecting cyberpunk soul into hardcore flesh. Contorting through several iterations in the following years, the band absorbed Luke Thompson (Stiff Meds) on drums, filmmaker Tom Hobson on guitar and Naomi Macleod (Empire State Bastard) on bass, and laid down their first collective offering. deadwired is due out on Flatspot Records later this year. Bodyweb's second EP is a violent thesis on connection and pain that sends Hardy’s unfiltered vocals through heaven and hell. Four overstimulating tracks run a gamut of styles and influences from Slipknot to Björk, constantly lane-switching between dizzying heaviness, ambient soundscapes and brain-burrowing hooks. Entirely self-produced, deadwired upgrades the sonic formula laid down on the last record and raises the question: what else could exist in Bodyweb’s twisted roadmap? Nothing seems impossible. What seems important, however, is retaining the rawness in a style that can often turn sterile. “We still wanted it to sound very human. It had to be well produced but not cold and lifeless.” shares Hardy. “We didn’t use a click track. All guitars were real amps with microphones. We tried to make everything as real and raw as possible, we recorded using all the same gear we use when playing live too to really capture the energy of how it feels when we jam together." ‘Deadwired’ is a snapshot of violent implosion. Four ADHD-fuelled transmissions from the edge of spiritual collapse. It drags metallic hardcore through glitched-out ambience to confront ego death, generational trauma, and the violence of being alive. On stage, Bodyweb don’t just perform, they purge. Raucous live electronics meld with digitally contorted guitars. Breakbeats meet breakdowns—no backing track in sight. Bodyweb enable a collective catharsis. Mosh, dance, dive, scream, heal. A physical therapy session screamed into the void.

The Australian master of the dark synth arts is back and – boy – he is out for blood.
We’ve been missing Marc Dwyer solo project Buzz Kull since his latest single Last In The Club from late 2019 and since back then we knew he was up to something. At first glimpse, the minimal wave days of We Were Lovers seem far away now that Marc has gone full Club Body Music with his upcoming new album, but there is a thread that binds Buzz Kull hits from the past such as Into The Void, Avoiding The Light and New Kind Of Cross with these ten new cuts: a thread of darkness proper to the most handsome man in the game and that’s here to stay.

Echoes of 90’s era Front 242 and Front Line Assembly will resonate from tracks like Fascination and Dead Inside; elements of early body music flirting with the dark side of British synthpop will rave from the grooves of Dancing with Machines and Man on the Beat, while late 80’s Belgian new beat cellar-like vibes rise from Do You See and Burn it to the Ground.

But Buzz Kull’s third full-length is not just about music subgenres we all know and love, it’s about a feeling that comes alive only with the dark and drives you through the small hours just to leave you drained and filled at once. The creature of the night is on the loose, the sticky dancefloor its natural habitat, its lust for the upside-down world of the club can’t be cured.

Cross Record's new album, Crush Me, is steeped in the pressures and wonders of existence—a profound statement, especially coming from artist and death doula Emily Cross. A two-and-a-half-year gestation period offered challenges, disappointments, and joys reflected in the cramped space of the album, which explores how we handle the weights we carry. Emily Cross had held hundreds of Living Funerals and was as many episodes deep into her podcast, What I’m Looking At. She was five years into serving clients as a death doula and fresh off a tour with Loma, her band with Jonathan Meiburg (Shearwater) and Dan Duszynski, when she began work on her fourth album. After moving from Austin, TX to Dorset, UK, she established the Steady Waves Center for Contemplation (named after a track from her second record, Wabi-Sabi ), where she hosted Living Funerals, met clients, scheduled mindful tea sessions, and showcased experimental music nights. All the while, she was scribbling down song ideas. Cross’s Tascam four-track demos finally reached readiness, and she sent them to an interested major independent label. She was encouraged to push her imagination to the limits of what a record could be. So, unlike her usual process of recording as inexpensively as possible, she prepared a two-week recording session in Germany with a group of skilled musicians from around the world. True to her previous work, Cross left plenty of room in her demos for experimentation, collaboration, chance, improvisation, and complete obliteration, then resurrection when necessary. Comfort and traditional structure were eschewed in favor of unaccountable magic, prayers whispered into The Void. Cross is comfortable with the chaotic and unpredictable, a perspective demanded by her work and writing style. The Berlin Airbnb was packed with people, instruments and luggage. During a ride down in a tiny elevator to the studio, Cross realized how central the sense of being crushed was to the album. “I thought of it later and it dawned on me that ‘Crush Me’ perfectly embodied the record,” says Cross. Yes, the weight of a body laying limply atop yours, or the tight squeeze of a hug, can be pleasant. Go too far, and you’re in the hands of a cruel, adolescent god. Upon leaving Germany, the record was unfinished, and without a roadmap. As passages were recorded as isolated parts, Cross and musician Marcin Sulewski collaborated, facing a haphazard brick pile, waiting to be assembled. Work dipped in and out of view like a buoy bobbing in a violent sea over many months. During that time, the aforementioned interested label went radio silent, suddenly not seeming so sure of a thing. Collaborators disappeared, continuing the themes of abandonment, surrender, and disarray that followed the project. Cross physically felt her entire body go numb: In a twist of fate, the record was rescued by long-time friend and supporter Ben Goldberg at Ba Da Bing Records who was eager to help realize the project. Cross worked for months on the album, all the while nursing a pregnancy and continuing her full-time funeral work. The last minute participation of Seth Manchester of Machines with Magnets, who mixed and mastered, was an essential liferaft. He gave true final form to the abstracted songs. Crush Me has the effect of a spell being cast, with songs balancing heaviness and levity. Vocals, guitars, and keyboards float above, as drums and upright bass (often bowed) lurch beneath. On “Rolling Backwards” percussion wanders about while feedback squeals and persists in the distance. “Dorset Area Of Natural Beauty” starts with a thick, unhinged church organ progression punctuated by the disquieting sounds of laughter reaching the point of hysteria. “God Fax” is a slow-moving panic attack, with shallow breaths in and out framing a guttural cacophony like a wooden freighter encountering increasingly turbulent waters and vocals struck emotionless by autotune. The album ends with “Twisted Up Fence,” a reflection on life from outside the wall--wistful, warm, and comforting. Cross, likely with a smile on her face, sings: “You say it’s an endless abyss” “And I say the abyss is the best”

Enxin/Onyx, the duo of Nicky Mao/Hiro Kone and Tot Onyx (formerly group A), joins Other People with their debut album "In Rupture," capturing the same mesmerizing energy for which their live sets have become known.

“In Rupture” is not painless but in rupture lies possibility. The elasticity of this time pitching us across unknown terrain, revealing new potentialities, eclipsing static being. Whether in breach, collision,shimmer or severance, Enxin/Onyx explores these as occasions for transformation. Peeling back the layers through discord and harmony, exciting the inversion of expectation, towing the listener to depths and back up again to illuminate the senses. At times metallic and feral, at others murky and sharp, each song serves as an offering for all that is in rupture; body, spirit, land, ecosystem.
The opening track “A Void” calls to mind some mutation in its mechanical ecstasy, but for what purpose remains unknown. Even in the near moments of stillness, “Needle Pierces the Threshold” breathes a forceful disquietude. Tommi’s vocals pulling the listener down into some subterranean
madness, to unravel upwards from all sides, flooding the once parched landscape. In “Embers Kissthe Eye”, all of time emerges in one moment, compelling the subject’s gaze towards a new horizon.
The album follows its subjects through exile, exhumation and discovery. Through this process plates shift, fissures are revealed and what once appeared to be indomitable absolutes crack, pointing towards their inevitable collapse. To be in rupture is regeneration, to be in rupture is to return.

Having thrived throughout the underground realms for the last ten years, Question built a respectable body of work displaying a sound meeting constant progression, a vision sharpened and perfected with each output. Six years following the debut full-length recording, the Mexican quintet unleashes “Reflections of the Void”, a grand tome of sheer Death Metal might in eight tracks that take Question’s sonic traits and overall concept to a whole new level of magnitude. In perfect unison with the majestic Shoggoth Kinetics artwork that adorns the album’s cover, “Reflections of the Void” stands apart and invites the listener to a pathway beyond the horizon, a detailed journey on life and death and yonder. Such carefully threaded concept meets its aural accomplice as Question carries a cloud of impending doom, a dense and arrestive atmosphere on brilliantly crafted songs that drink from the fountain of the past yet blistering in its very own with a striking sense of dynamics which assuredly puts the group in the major leagues of Death Metal mastery. Obscure, threatening riffs blaze through the first moments of the record, trading somber licks and faster belligerent attacks, yet never failing to enter a redundant path, for a tempo change or a dissonant endeavor spells unexpectedly and takes the listener on an intense rollercoaster. Fiercely crafted, the pulsing bass impulses and organic drumming patterns exhale as the pounding heart of “Reflections of the Void”. Technical, precise, enter a scorching performance in taste and dexterity, never sounding dull or plastic but shining for its soulful presence, side by side with the dazzling production, utterly potent and vibrant, taking the defying arrangements to greater extents. In and above this sonic frenzy, a vociferated voice grunts the illusions of our existence with a resonating dark tone spawned directly from the imposing void. As this opus resumes into the boundless vacuum, we are left with a sense of distress and awe. Question crafted a work for the ages, one which with every listening reveals a further dimension, a hidden mystery, just like the classics in the unholy pantheon to which this opus will surely belong someday.

“Reflections of the Void” is released under the banner of Chaos Records.

To give you an idea of what the New Jersey, USA band Cowardice sound like, “Atavist” exists somewhere on the spectrum between the sombre strains of Bell Witch and the tormented tones of Body Void, with the first half of the album (“Suzerain”) erring more towards the bleakly melodic style of the former, while part two (“Sentinel”) shifts the focus towards a darker, dirgier approach; somewhere on the edges between melancholic doom and experimental sludge metal. Perhaps inevitably, it’s not quite that cut and dry - the gut-churning grind of “Unforgeable Key” for example, is just as nasty and gnarly as anything found on “Sentinel”, while the desolate disharmonies of “The Diminutive Principle” channel a similarly angst-ridden aura as much of “Suzerain” - but this distinction between the two halves, subtle as it may be, plays a big role in giving the whole album its sense of direction and progression.

And while it is always recommended to listen to the totality of “Atavist” so as to get the most out of it - especially if you’re a fan of the likes of Cavernlight and/or Chained To The Bottom Of The Ocean, both of whom also serve as useful touchstones for any prospective listener - also pay extra attention to the gorgeously gloomy slow-burn of opener “To The Hilt Of Humanity”, the haunting melodies and heaving grooves of the sludge-soaked “Clairvoyance Anxiety” and the morbid majesty of “Hall Of Mages”, as some of the record’s major highlights. Indeed, it’s this last track which will both test your resolve and prove, once and for all, that “Atavist” is more than worth every second you’ve invested into listening to it so far, with every crushing, cathartic chord and ringing, harmonic note… every tortured, suffering snarl and trembling, melancholy melody… coming together over the course of seventeen absolutely massive minutes to demonstrate that, despite its imposing size and intense sound, “Atavist” is nothing to be afraid of. Green and red coloured double vinyl edition.

On alene et, Michaela Turcerová, a Copenhagen-based, Slovakia born musician, takes minutiae — the tiniest scrapes and breathiest hums — and distorts them into sprawling, collaged webs that barely resemble the instrument in its natural state. Each shard, when pieced together, makes a rhythmic, undulating sound born from the subtlest motions.

Alene et marks Turcerová’s debut as a soloist, putting a spotlight on the exploratory approach she has developed on her own and across a variety of collaborations. She has long studied the quiet excavation of her instrument, pulling it apart to find a new vocabulary. To develop this language, she unearths shards of sound from the instrument, muting it or bringing out its scratchiness and grittiness. Primarily working with open-ended scores and improvisation, she is inspired by various percussive music, looking to deep sonic awareness to guide her. As a soloist, her music harkens to the abstracted electronics present across the Editions Mego catalog or the distorted ruminations of Nyege Nyege tapes. And no matter where she goes, she is constantly in the pursuit of the unknown — the hidden elements of music that come to life through experimentation and listening.

With alene et, Turcerová presents her singular language on the saxophone to the fullest. To make this music, she placed many microphones close to her instrument, zeroing in to each sound and examining it from multiple different angles. She emphasizes the percussive possibilities of her instrument, puzzle-piecing each note into pulsating webs. Each track highlights a different side of the saxophone — the bristling distortion and amplification of a column of air as it blows through her saxophone’s body, the trickling tapping of the keys as she places her fingers onto them.

At its core, alene et presents Turcerová’s curiosity. The saxophone lives many different lives within her hands, shapeshifting through the uncovering of its possibilities. She shows us how the instrument is an ever-changing entity, a distorted and blown out drone with a thousand shards poking out from inside of it. But more than just a showcase of an individual instrument, alene et feels like a statement of the act of exploration. Turcerová is an excavator, always looking for new worlds hidden within her saxophone, and leaving room for more to come alive with each listen.

lack Sabbath is, along with Led Zeppelin and Deep Purple, the most important british hard rock band of all time.

With its dark, mystical, obsessive atmosphere, Black Sabbath built an unique sound that has influenced countless bands since its emergence in the late ‘60s to these days. As usual in our series The Many Faces, we will enter the fantastic secret world of Black Sabbath, and we will enjoy their collaborations, side projects and their greatest hits. The Many Faces of Black Sabbath is a fantastic album, especially for those of you who considers yourself fans of hard rock.

Now, it’s part of our Many Faces collection on vinyl format.

The seeds of composer Rafael Anton Irisarri’s latest LP were first planted during his 2016 tour in Italy, months before that Autumn’s unexpected presidential election. The linguistic glitch of an innocuous diner in Milan named “il Mito Americano” – meant as “The American Dream” but translated literally to English as “The American Myth” – sparked a series of ideas, both conceptual and musical.

Amid the chaos of 2020, while exploring the stark world of brutalist architecture and inspired by the false fronts of Potemkin villages, a vision started to take shape: FAÇADISMS. Composed over three years, it’s a late capitalist lament of simmering electric despondency.

Irisarri’s obsession with repeating motifs mirrors the cyclical nature of our tumultuous political history. The album’s eight tracks heave and storm like a tempest being drained of its rage. This is the sound of majestic dissipation, of morning afters, fashioned from a mournful haze with cavernous guitars and granular twilight. A euphony of a receding tide as one sifts through the remnants of what remains: dust, delusion, and memory.

Opening with the somber gauze of “Broken Intensification," FAÇADISMS moves fluidly between moments of absence and abandon. Ashen swaths of electronics billow above smoldering embers of melody, guitar, and scattered streaks of processed strings and voice, as on the rapturous doom of “Control Your Soul's Desire for Freedom,” featuring Julia Kent on cello and Hannah Elizabeth Cox on vocals. "The impoverished peoples of the Americas have known all along that 'freedom' is a cruel illusion crafted by the elites, akin to Potemkin's fake villages designed to impress Catherine the Great," Irisarri indicates. "FAÇADISMS illustrates a twisted inversion where the rulers deceive their subjects with illusions of safety, democracy, and free speech to create a grotesque mirage of control over their own lives.”

Elsewhere, Irisarri leans into passages of hushed oblivion (“Hollow,” “Dispersion of Belief”), while ragged drones rumble and disintegrate into wind-battered ambient wreckage. One has the sense that it’s all too late. The hour of fury has passed. The beauty has come and gone. Irisarri’s muse has become the crack in the façade of the unraveling myth.

The record closes with a climax of grand departure. Co-written with Kenyan sound artist KMRU, “Red Moon Tide” surges from flickering elegy to celestial disquiet, roiling waves of hymnal descent, and bristling noise. The effect is unsettling and unmooring: a soundtrack for the soul leaving the body, only to discover a void. It’s the sound of the center not holding, of shared illusions being dissolved in a tunnel of white light.

The cover photograph captures a profound sense of desolation. Taken in the historic shanty town of La Perla, Puerto Rico, where Irisarri spent his childhood, brutal colonial mysteries are lost to time. A skeletal concrete structure decays against an expansive blue horizon. Only the shadow of its shell ripples on the empty sea.

Has the American myth finally run its course?

The seeds of composer Rafael Anton Irisarri’s latest LP were first planted during his 2016 tour in Italy, months before that Autumn’s unexpected presidential election. The linguistic glitch of an innocuous diner in Milan named “il Mito Americano” – meant as “The American Dream” but translated literally to English as “The American Myth” – sparked a series of ideas, both conceptual and musical.

Amid the chaos of 2020, while exploring the stark world of brutalist architecture and inspired by the false fronts of Potemkin villages, a vision started to take shape: FAÇADISMS. Composed over three years, it’s a late capitalist lament of simmering electric despondency.

Irisarri’s obsession with repeating motifs mirrors the cyclical nature of our tumultuous political history. The album’s eight tracks heave and storm like a tempest being drained of its rage. This is the sound of majestic dissipation, of morning afters, fashioned from a mournful haze with cavernous guitars and granular twilight. A euphony of a receding tide as one sifts through the remnants of what remains: dust, delusion, and memory.

Opening with the somber gauze of “Broken Intensification," FAÇADISMS moves fluidly between moments of absence and abandon. Ashen swaths of electronics billow above smoldering embers of melody, guitar, and scattered streaks of processed strings and voice, as on the rapturous doom of “Control Your Soul's Desire for Freedom,” featuring Julia Kent on cello and Hannah Elizabeth Cox on vocals. "The impoverished peoples of the Americas have known all along that 'freedom' is a cruel illusion crafted by the elites, akin to Potemkin's fake villages designed to impress Catherine the Great," Irisarri indicates. "FAÇADISMS illustrates a twisted inversion where the rulers deceive their subjects with illusions of safety, democracy, and free speech to create a grotesque mirage of control over their own lives.”

Elsewhere, Irisarri leans into passages of hushed oblivion (“Hollow,” “Dispersion of Belief”), while ragged drones rumble and disintegrate into wind-battered ambient wreckage. One has the sense that it’s all too late. The hour of fury has passed. The beauty has come and gone. Irisarri’s muse has become the crack in the façade of the unraveling myth.

The record closes with a climax of grand departure. Co-written with Kenyan sound artist KMRU, “Red Moon Tide” surges from flickering elegy to celestial disquiet, roiling waves of hymnal descent, and bristling noise. The effect is unsettling and unmooring: a soundtrack for the soul leaving the body, only to discover a void. It’s the sound of the center not holding, of shared illusions being dissolved in a tunnel of white light.

The cover photograph captures a profound sense of desolation. Taken in the historic shanty town of La Perla, Puerto Rico, where Irisarri spent his childhood, brutal colonial mysteries are lost to time. A skeletal concrete structure decays against an expansive blue horizon. Only the shadow of its shell ripples on the empty sea.

Has the American myth finally run its course?

The seeds of composer Rafael Anton Irisarri’s latest LP were first planted during his 2016 tour in Italy, months before that Autumn’s unexpected presidential election. The linguistic glitch of an innocuous diner in Milan named “il Mito Americano” – meant as “The American Dream” but translated literally to English as “The American Myth” – sparked a series of ideas, both conceptual and musical.

Amid the chaos of 2020, while exploring the stark world of brutalist architecture and inspired by the false fronts of Potemkin villages, a vision started to take shape: FAÇADISMS. Composed over three years, it’s a late capitalist lament of simmering electric despondency.

Irisarri’s obsession with repeating motifs mirrors the cyclical nature of our tumultuous political history. The album’s eight tracks heave and storm like a tempest being drained of its rage. This is the sound of majestic dissipation, of morning afters, fashioned from a mournful haze with cavernous guitars and granular twilight. A euphony of a receding tide as one sifts through the remnants of what remains: dust, delusion, and memory.

Opening with the somber gauze of “Broken Intensification," FAÇADISMS moves fluidly between moments of absence and abandon. Ashen swaths of electronics billow above smoldering embers of melody, guitar, and scattered streaks of processed strings and voice, as on the rapturous doom of “Control Your Soul's Desire for Freedom,” featuring Julia Kent on cello and Hannah Elizabeth Cox on vocals. "The impoverished peoples of the Americas have known all along that 'freedom' is a cruel illusion crafted by the elites, akin to Potemkin's fake villages designed to impress Catherine the Great," Irisarri indicates. "FAÇADISMS illustrates a twisted inversion where the rulers deceive their subjects with illusions of safety, democracy, and free speech to create a grotesque mirage of control over their own lives.”

Elsewhere, Irisarri leans into passages of hushed oblivion (“Hollow,” “Dispersion of Belief”), while ragged drones rumble and disintegrate into wind-battered ambient wreckage. One has the sense that it’s all too late. The hour of fury has passed. The beauty has come and gone. Irisarri’s muse has become the crack in the façade of the unraveling myth.

The record closes with a climax of grand departure. Co-written with Kenyan sound artist KMRU, “Red Moon Tide” surges from flickering elegy to celestial disquiet, roiling waves of hymnal descent, and bristling noise. The effect is unsettling and unmooring: a soundtrack for the soul leaving the body, only to discover a void. It’s the sound of the center not holding, of shared illusions being dissolved in a tunnel of white light.

The cover photograph captures a profound sense of desolation. Taken in the historic shanty town of La Perla, Puerto Rico, where Irisarri spent his childhood, brutal colonial mysteries are lost to time. A skeletal concrete structure decays against an expansive blue horizon. Only the shadow of its shell ripples on the empty sea.

Has the American myth finally run its course?

Originally released on tape by SicSic in 2014, Aprilnacht commemorates a decade of music from Brannten Schnüre and marked the spring in a tetralogy of albums about the four seasons when it came out. Back then the Würzburg-based project consisted solely of Christian Schoppik, who later welcomed Katie Rich to take over the vocals. He used to perform as Agnes Beil, but dropped the name when, while making this album realized his music was becoming "much gentler and more fragile". Aprilnacht already captured the particular musical ideas that Schoppik would thoroughly keep exploring, delving deeper and deeper into the use and manipulation of samplers from sources so diverging as to wander between the five continents to post-war German family television and cult cinema. Heir of the ritualistic intensity of Coil, of the intricate sampler assemblies of Ghédalia Tazartès', and of the dusty, dismal old ballads from around the world, Brannten Schnüre manages to make these paths cross in a territory that is as inherent as it is uncanny; sieged by the past and intimate as a hearth. An organic approach to folk, ambient, and sound collage, where ethereal yet thoroughly textured pieces coalesce in enthralling, delicate, and innermost musical rituals.

The album cover paintings reveal the temper: dreary old towns where shadows come to dim the slow passage of crepuscular colors, a soft area of reanimation where wind and light come close and foresee the night of spring. Aprilnacht was inspired by the stories of German philosopher and writer Friedrich Alfred Schmid Noerr, whose work exhaustively examines the conflict between paganism and Christianity, safeguarding myth in a way that Schoppik describes as boldly modern, humorous and unpredictable in its variations of the Germanic folklore motifs. "I wanted to do the same with the music," he states, and the music here could as well be suitable for a night when household deities welcome wandering will-o'-the-wisps, water nymphs, and gyrovagues to discuss Perchta's leadership of The Wild Hunt, but this album is not a folk tale, it's not an elegy to worlds already gone, hidden in years; it's an intersection of routes that open mysteriously before our ears like a congregation of vapors. Aprilnacht is a gathering of voices; "There are too many children, and none of them keeps quiet," reads the last verse of «Requiem für eine Ringelnatter.»

Sensuality drips over the music to celebrate both the voluptuousness and tragic quality of nature; "It's raining on me, urine from your flowers," Schoppik sings in «Urin deiner Blüten» and later on, faced with a snake's erotic features, as if he wanted to be embraced by it: "Your quick, sharp tongue and your warm venom; that's what the pond is missing." Orality is where this profusion of contents thrives. When the voices get closer and condense, the words reveal the saliva employed to pronounce them; we feel the mouth and the tongue, but when breath envelops them in sorrow and softens their edges, they sound distant, diffused in the atmosphere, letting go of the body that held them. These two vocal facets oscillate permanently and interact naturally with the fertile assembly of samplers and instruments that develop throughout the album, which condense and disperse impersonating each other, interweaving to search for a specific syntax. Tangled whisperings of enigmatic phrases, timid voices that stick out to check the scene but hide away quickly, shivering trance chants and monastic ambiances, distant screams and clamors in between chaos and warfare swirl until bursting into subtle songs where even Mother Mary comes forth softly. Soothed by foggy atmospheres and crackling punctuations, these voices shape a vulnerable crowd, an occasion of fragility. Along this swarm of songs thrown into thin air, accordions sound like heavy-breathing lungs; clarinets sigh like curtains shaking; violin solos wander around like bees; Gjallarhorns cries distend like fleeing cattle; glockenspiels evoke remote music boxes and inherited toys; backward emanations emerge like slender waves retreating. On the banks of stretching loops and ember textures is where the songs slowly nest, collecting the words to find their tone.

A poem by Jorge Teillier says, "To talk with the dead you have to choose words that they recognize as easily as their hands recognized the fur of their dogs in the dark. To talk with the dead you have to know how to wait: they are fearful like the first steps of a child. But if we are patient one day they will answer us with a flame that suddenly revives in the fireplace." This may be Brannten Schnüre's main purpose: To find the voice to speak to those of whom we were a vision. Not in mourning, but acknowledging the obscure and volatile nature of spring's regenerative force, searching for the treasure of balance, as evidenced in the lyrics of «Requiem für ein Schwalbennest,» "Its nest was destroyed so many times before it was finished, and despite that, the shallow builds as if it is infatuated." The same idea is here in the words of Schmid Noerr, who made poetry an act of resistance to the horror of Nazism; "Since having seen the ability of a brilliant spirit to die, with a calm mouth that everyone saw, health is true again and we affirm it, even if rivers of blood flow." And as we call for the dusk's kindness, waiting to return home and eat with our kin by the stove, our ears become used to the games of the night. We feel like we're rowing on wetlands, while the "moon musick" keeps us vigilant against the slightest movement of water or sweet moan because eeriness here is imperative for survival. Do not succumb to the insipid howl of death, for nothing may last but mutability. You see, the rock has moved a little during the night; the rest is just wind fleeing from the void.

ACxDC—full name Antichrist Demoncore—are anything but subtle. So to make sure that their message is heard loud and clear, they take things a step further, smashing these ambiguous, sophisticated, and abstract notions into a pulp and shoving them down throats. What’s left are sharp, caustic, and unabashedly vicious bits of truth and poisonous tongue-in-cheek propelled by bursts of powerviolence, metallized hardcore, and grindcore. Over the seventeen short songs, the music closely follows these themes.

With time, we come to understand the way the joy of connection is mirrored by the void of loss, how the constancy of love is matched only by the impermanence of life, the simple idea that we could not create light if we did not risk the dark - we'd never need to. So it is with METZ, a band once known for blowing out eardrums with songs of joyous rage who have, over their past few records, begun exploring ways to turn abrasiveness into atmospherics, the evolution of their sound not only a reflection of the maturing of the band themselves but also of a changed world that demands nuance and compassion to comprehend and to survive. It was a journey already underway on 2020's Atlas Vending, but one that reaches new heights on Up On Gravity Hill, where the Canadian trio creates a kaleidoscopic sonic world as tender as it is dark, aided once again by engineer Seth Manchester (Mdou Moctar, Lingua Ignota, Battles, The Body). Deep, detailed, and unyieldingly personal, it is not only METZ's most powerful record to date but also their most beautiful. Still three punks from Ontario at heart, guitarist and vocalist Alex Edkins, drummer Hayden Menzies, and bassist Chris Slorach waste no time as opener "No Reservation/Love Comes Crashing" sweeps in like a wave, sonically and thematically setting the scene for the record to come. A dynamic song about feeling suspended in stasis, layers of dissonance melt into a restlessly heady outro marked by escalating crescendos of shimmering noise that reach for the stars - and is that a violin quivering brightly beneath those elegant swells of guitar, those charging drum fills, those intricate bass lines? It is indeed, courtesy of composer Owen Pallett; his presence an immediate indicator that METZ are thinking more cinematically than ever before. The change is partially inspired by Edkins' work as a scorer for film and television and his pop-leaning solo project, Weird Nightmare, where, he says, he learned to write more intuitively, letting his emotions lead the way. But make no mistake: Up On Gravity Hill is a total band effort, the work of three musicians who have been playing together for over a decade, with all the trust that entails. For those who believe in the power of the rock band to exemplify the highest resonance of human connection, there is much on Up On Gravity Hill to lift the spirit, a puzzle worth repeated listening to unlock or just to get lost in again and again. Rather than the music being flattened into a single plane, the band explores "the space above the cymbals," resulting in some of the most spacious, sympathetic, and accessible songs - could we call them pop? - of their career. If this seems contradictory, well, METZ has always been something of a contradiction. "We've never been heavy enough for metal or hardcore purists, but we're way too heavy for indie rock. We just don't have a lane - and that's okay. We exist outside the lines of delineation. I think this record is even more like that," says Edkins.

This is long overdue. I mean, looooooonnnnnng overdue. A solo album by Jim. The trap kit - so straightforward, so mysterious. What"s inside those things? Air and light - from which century? Which continent? Which planet? Depending on how and when you hit them it can be a vibration sent through a prehistoric breath, particles of Saturn"s atmosphere, the dead, wet leaves you walked through on the way to the first day of school. These are the memories of the drums on this record. Infinite and personal. Editing each other as they muscle to the front or soft shoe to the shadow. Cymbals can override/cancel everything out - wipe your memory clear or make the memory clearer. Drums are the instrument where you can feel the presence of the player the most - the full body - and sense the thoughts of the player the most. The instrument with the most choices to be made sends out the most brainwaves. A bouquet of brainwaves is on this LP. Jim oversees it all, surveys from the lost place we"re in, the void - the drumless song. We trust. We trust, Jim. His big green eyes search for the right tool (mallet, brush, etc), eyes that search you like you"re a song he wants to join, wants to see if he can add to or understand. Before humans, drums were playing - these drums. Genesis was a solo drum piece. After humans, these drums, this album. Someone - the last man - is out in a spaceship at the edge of space. He plays a single chord on a synth to set time free from its bind and then lets go. This album sets time free, lets it frolic, lets it graze, lets it remember. This is a record of thoughts, memories, surgery. A deft surgical operation you may not even realize is happening as it"s happening but you"re back on your feet when it"s over. Memories refreshed. Did you really even listen to it? -Bill Callahan, November 2023

This is long overdue. I mean, looooooonnnnnng overdue. A solo album by Jim. The trap kit - so straightforward, so mysterious. What"s inside those things? Air and light - from which century? Which continent? Which planet? Depending on how and when you hit them it can be a vibration sent through a prehistoric breath, particles of Saturn"s atmosphere, the dead, wet leaves you walked through on the way to the first day of school. These are the memories of the drums on this record. Infinite and personal. Editing each other as they muscle to the front or soft shoe to the shadow. Cymbals can override/cancel everything out - wipe your memory clear or make the memory clearer. Drums are the instrument where you can feel the presence of the player the most - the full body - and sense the thoughts of the player the most. The instrument with the most choices to be made sends out the most brainwaves. A bouquet of brainwaves is on this LP. Jim oversees it all, surveys from the lost place we"re in, the void - the drumless song. We trust. We trust, Jim. His big green eyes search for the right tool (mallet, brush, etc), eyes that search you like you"re a song he wants to join, wants to see if he can add to or understand. Before humans, drums were playing - these drums. Genesis was a solo drum piece. After humans, these drums, this album. Someone - the last man - is out in a spaceship at the edge of space. He plays a single chord on a synth to set time free from its bind and then lets go. This album sets time free, lets it frolic, lets it graze, lets it remember. This is a record of thoughts, memories, surgery. A deft surgical operation you may not even realize is happening as it"s happening but you"re back on your feet when it"s over. Memories refreshed. Did you really even listen to it? -Bill Callahan, November 2023

Psychedelic Anxiety, as a mood, goes something like this: overwhelming, existential, vertigoic, arising when we stare into the void. This metaphysical unease also serves as the title for Brooklyn-based musician Frances Chang’s second album, and as a feeling it’s present throughout, charged by all things occultish. Recorded by Chang and engineer Andrea Schiavelli, featuring a cast of revered NYC DIY players, including Schiavelli (Eyes of Love) and Liza Winter (Birthing Hips), Psychedelic Anxiety relishes in the refining of aesthetic, in the electricity of improvisation, in balancing bleakness with humor. It embodies an idiosyncratic genre Chang calls slacker prog — offbeat, but brimming with spiritual and emotional resonance. The record infuses artifacts of the mundane with otherworldliness— even the love songs live more in the realm of fantasy (or horror) than the romantic. The psychic twin and mirror image of Chang’s 2022 debut full-length Support Your Local Nihilist, Psychedelic Anxiety by comparison is less urgent, leaving space for more nuance and storytelling. Together, these albums represent a new cycle of creativity for Chang, a reset to zero. “Eye Land,” captures Chang on a tour around the Irish and English countryside, in a moment of major life change. “Lying around your spare room,” she sings, “Sky is cloudy here in June.” Around her, guitar sputters and stops. Vocals branch off like vines on the side of an old house. It is a profoundly lovely song, a freaky miniature in the way that a Broadcast song is a freaky miniature. “Darkside” opens up with a particularly memorable narrative moment. “Last night I saw Parasite,” sings Chang, describing how she saw it alone, how regular life that week was acute, weird, intense. How she found comfort in resignation. After all: Psychedelic Anxiety is a serene, bizarre record full of alien sounds and big introspection.

Brand new album from the Seattle cult band. Filth is Eternal's Find Out is the triumphant reawakening of one of Seattle's most energetic and committed bands. The new testimony whips forward with the force of a breakthrough and is a clear commitment to their own genesis with a deep awareness of themselves, their audience and the shared history
between them. The basic rules of the band: the immediacy must be in the foreground. The songs should have the power to ignite a pit in less than thirty seconds

Brand new album from the Seattle cult band. Filth is Eternal's Find Out is the triumphant reawakening of one of Seattle's most energetic and committed bands. The new testimony whips forward with the force of a breakthrough and is a clear commitment to their own genesis with a deep awareness of themselves, their audience and the shared history
between them. The basic rules of the band: the immediacy must be in the foreground. The songs should have the power to ignite a pit in less than thirty seconds

Brand new album from the Seattle cult band. Filth is Eternal's Find Out is the triumphant reawakening of one of Seattle's most energetic and committed bands. The new testimony whips forward with the force of a breakthrough and is a clear commitment to their own genesis with a deep awareness of themselves, their audience and the shared history
between them. The basic rules of the band: the immediacy must be in the foreground. The songs should have the power to ignite a pit in less than thirty seconds

Brand new album from the Seattle cult band. Filth is Eternal's Find Out is the triumphant reawakening of one of Seattle's most energetic and committed bands. The new testimony whips forward with the force of a breakthrough and is a clear commitment to their own genesis with a deep awareness of themselves, their audience and the shared history
between them. The basic rules of the band: the immediacy must be in the foreground. The songs should have the power to ignite a pit in less than thirty seconds

Remixes from Erika's second album "Anevite Void". "Anevite Void Remixed" showcases some of the many diverse influences on Erika's critically acclaimed second solo album "Anevite Void". Here her ambient album closer "Wandering Mountain" transforms into two faces of techno, first the monolithic hypnotic slab of sound from Mike Parker then to a powerful peak time melodic banger from Wata Igarashi. The other side features a totally different take on her influences, with Eris Drew delivering her "Body Rock Remix" fusing a number of styles to push the highlight of Erika's album to new heights, and Whodat discovering a deeper side to "Tomorrow's Fires". Pressed at Archer Records, Detroit.

In 1972, a foursome of design students set out to make a record. This was, in many ways, a strictly creative endeavor. The quartet — composed of Dave Pescod, Alan Lewis, Phil Rawle, and Ted Rockley — were all trained, not as musicians, but as creatives. Art school heavyweights, the four were well-versed in the methodology of intentional experimentation, in the delicate balance of pushing the limits without completely unmooring oneself from a guiding creative intention. Emboldened by a high-brow familiarity with thoughtful experimentation and all the non-conviction of non-musicians, Bowes Road Band’s stint in the world of popular music yielded a record that is as much mind-melting as it is a direct product of its time. Their sprawling LP “Back in the HCA” embodies the exigence “art for art’s sake,” but it is for art’s sake that this record, however off the deep end it seems to travel (hear: “Doctor, Doctor”), remains a unified, and stunning, body of work. The LP’s do-ityourself garage rock noisemaking meets highfalutin creative processes. “Back in the HCA” is warbling psychedelic freakout (“Two Fingers,” “Doctor, Doctor”), Donovan-esque English countryside folk stylings (“Inside My Head,” “Goodbye to Rosie”), and avant-garde jazz improvisions (“Grass is Grass,” “Tomorrow’s Truth”) in one luminous release.

Originally an 9-track LP, Jakarta, Uno Loop, and Bowes Road Band decided to mine the six most cohesive tracks for the reissue, though the extras may be released somewhere down the line. Cohesion efforts aside, “Back in the HCA” stands alone in its singular conception of a genre-bending continuum — it evades definition. That said, the LP can easily be situated in the sonic environment in which it was conceived. By the end of the 60s, England was crawling with blues-based rock outfits that were starting to venture into prog rock territory. You can hear this popular dint cast over the folkier side of the LP. But Bowes Road Band was armed with their non-musicianship: they existed completely liberated from the motivating yet ultimately paralyzing lust for stardom. Enjoying this liberation, Bowes Road Band was utterly free to make noise. This freedom meant drawn out sax interludes amidst sweetly folk stylings (“Grass is Grass”) and Shaggs-like fuzzed-out freakouts that spiral into a void (Doctor, Doctor). This freedom also meant straight-forward tuneful cuts like “Goodbye Rosie” that conspicuously introduce heavily distorted auto-organ accompaniment mid-track amidst poignant lyricism. Bowes Road Band crafts a unified sound and then cracks it open.

With a completely off-the-radar status, Bowes Road Band could only press 50 copies of the record — 10 for each of them and 10 for the school. The band’s lifespan was to end there, or so they thought. “Back in the HCA” was the accidental fruit of a Berlin flea market treasure hunt by Jannis Stürtz, DJ and co-founder of Habibi Funk and Jakarta Records. After finding and sharing the LP with a few colleagues, Stürtz managed to get in touch with the band, get ahold of the master tapes collecting dust in Ted Rockley’s attic, and start the reissuing process. The record is still adorned with its original cover art designed by Alan Pescod, both reminiscent of bygone school days and the Zoom calls of yesterday — in short, reunion. Its re-discovery was happenstance and ought to be listened to as such. That is, “Back in the HCA” was not made to be listened to on a broad scale, or, at least, was not made with this goal in mind; it is neither in its time nor of its time. Of course, the group explicitly cites the folk tunes of the English countryside, the distorted rock groups that reigned during the record’s conception, and the fringes of psychedelic music that only the uber-underground might recognize (e.g., “Dreaming of Alice”). Yet still with these obvious influences, “Back in the HCA” always existed beyond the domain of both traditional musicianship and conventional commodification. Bowes Road Band’s DIY musicality beams through in technicolor across “Back in the HCA.” The vinyl includes an 8-page booklet detailing the albums creation and interviews with the band.

Lead single “Grass is Grass,” out July 14 along with album pre-order, encapsulates the record’s range: the track unfurls into a sprawling sax-driven trip following a sundrenched, Donovan-esque intro w/ lyrics “naively about parks and gardens, not marijuana!” The keyed-down folk cut “Goodbye to Rosie” is single 2 and elevates stripped-down acoustics with golden tinges, out August 4th. Focus track “Tomorrow’s Truth” constructs the fuzzed-out underbelly of acid folk. Listen for echoes of late Beatles, Mark Fry, and Donovan (if they were armed by an unshakabele willful naiveté). Like Sgt. Pepper’s on a shoestring budget—take a trip to the underground with LP “Back in the HCA,” available everywhere physically and digitally on September 1st via Jakarta Records and Uno Loop.

Besides online promotion from label profiles, the album will be further promoted by external agencies within the UK and US.

Catorce reflexiones sobre el fin (Fourteen Reflections on the End) originated from an installation exhibited at the Museo de Arte Contemporáneo de Oaxaca, Mexico, in 2019. Fourteen magnetic bodies of tape that dialogued with the fourteen pieces of electroacoustic music now contained in this album composed from the sound anthology of Angélica Castelló. Thus, Catorce reflexiones sobre el fin is a complex piece consisting of multiple parts that, although articulated with each other, hold a life of their own.

Like every body, these have a unique history made up of mixed fragments spun by Angélica, ranging from field recordings, references, and self-references to previous pieces, experiences, and voice recordings made specifically for these compositions re-recorded in various formats, from lo to high fidelity, analog and digital, composed, decomposed and recomposed (Castelló, A., 2019). Likewise, as any body, they also reflect on their end, whether absolute or temporal, of the many ways of being finite and of saying goodbye.

During the Catorce reflexiones sobre el fin, Castelló takes you on a journey that is difficult to locate. An ethereal space between shattered glass, stridulation of cicadas, war drums, murmurs in French, Italian maledictions, and soft recitations in Spanish. From uproar to solace, all wrapped in a soft abstraction that only allows access to the subtle whisper of these expressions. A gesture between invitation and sharing because who does not recognize oneself in this emotional storm?

First, the approach of the winds, the first breeze that caresses the body. Then the bewilderment announced by the scent of uncertainty condensed in the air’s humidity. The prelude to the storm, to something that will shake you from head to toe, something from which there will be no return.

To the acceleration of the winds comes the percussions, the tremor of the storm with its lightning. la Ira (1). A vibration running through the whole body, unstoppable. This reverberating sound, resulting from its re-percussion with our body acoustics, owes its tones and echoes to the cavities and organs of different masses. From what is hollow and what is full; what is void and what is matter. There is no turning back. It is a dive into the void; to fight and resist because there is no other way to go. It is a matter of survival.

Ma fin est mon commencement Et mon commencement ma fin (2)

After this, the cicada resumes at the crack of dawn, a gentle breeze, and solitude, that temporarily musical silence of embraces (3) with hints of harpsichord and bells.

The breaking of the waves in Sicily is accompanied by the antenna that picks up radio transmissions that already invite other tastes. The Mediterranean and its currents mingle and divide tense routes of escape, exchange, and struggle between Blutorangen, tides, and birdsongs.

An immersion into deep waters.

And in the end, we all commit sins! Queste maledette! (4)

Lorena Moreno Vera, 2023

Roadburn festival is arguably the world's most cutting edge boutique music festival out there, and has been a fertile breeding ground for innovative acts from a broad spectrum of musical genres for many years. Last year saw the unique collaboration of Danish electro-industrial duo John Cxnnor and Hungarian doom-folk artist The Devil's Trade take the stage to deliver a sonic journey into the void of deep space. Today, we are ex- cited to release this iconic set on vinyl to immortalise this one-time convergence of three akin artistic minds. John Cxnnor is made up of one half of Danish sci-fi-sludge metal juggernaut LLNN and sees the brothers Rasmus G. and Ketil G. Sejersen collaborating with numerous fellow artists to explore the synth side of their main project. Inspired by the Terminator-franchise and the scores of other sci-fi movies, the Sejersen brothers have been creating menacing industrial electronic opuses, the frst of which a crushing rendition of a The Devil's Trade track. "We've been enjoying the music from The Devil's Trade for quite some time now," commented the duo on the release of «Dead Sister Merope», describing it as "an interesting match of musical expressions formed by the same DNA." Indeed, the haunting atmospheric folk compositions of The Devil's Trade mastermind Da'vid Mako' carry a similarly cavernous quality which, when taken to the stage of Roadburn, is only reinforced by the sonic violence of John Cxnnor. Unlike many other live records, this set is captured and excellently produced down to the finest level of detail. On centrepiece «Lullaby», the trio seem to have perfected their definition of heaviness, with heavy bass blasts beyond anything you've heard before booming from the speakers. Together John Cxnnor and The Devil's Trade reach new heights in their respective trades capturing both the pressing darkness that gathers `round a bonfire at night as well as the void darkness of deep space. FOR FANS OF Author & Punisher, Godfesh, Lustmord, LLNN, The Devil's Trade, The Body, Uniform Ltd Gold (single colour) edition!

Platform 23 again explores to the dense voids, this time with a touch of the funk, with a reissue of Dutch experimentalists De Fabriek and two tracks from their "Music For" cassette series, this time calling all Hippies.

Featuring both original and reinterpretations from modern-day heads, Dunkeltier and Khidja, this double-pack is something of an oddity, showcasing the bands' expansive range, moving away from the noise, drone and industrial soundscape releases they had become known for and crafting here, free flowing, groovy longform jams.

Active since the late 70s to today, De Fabriek (The Factory) have never considered themselves a real band - being also a label too - with an evolving and irregular line up centred around Richard van Dellen, they present their music and output as a kind of work-union.

With literally four decades and dozens of releases across all formats, 1988's cassette release, 'Music For Hippies', has become something of a cult curio, with the long improvisational tracks, Lullabye and Coming Down eschewing the rougher, industrial experience for something completely different.

In opener Lullabye, we go full leftfield P-Funk meets Motorik undertones. An incessant beat is laid from the start and doesn't cease for over 10 minutes, while spoken vocals call closer to the Krautrock realms of Can and hark to Liebezeit's stylised grooving best.

Analog, echo washed, with touches of glam and wrapped in simple effects pedal work, the secrets are passed to Dresden / Berlin inhabitant Dunkeltier aka Sneaker DJ aka Thomas Smorek. His darker moniker, appearing on obscure edits for Macadam Mambo and the much-missed Bahnsteig 23, his 'Hey Robot' mix adds bass, percussion, strings and synth to remold Lullabye into a late night, red light, basement denzien. This is followed by an additional, bonus reimagining, creating an all-new time piece, an ear worm of the best kind with Tik Tok Goes The Clock.

The second slab presents in Come Down, a more resembling De Fabriek werk. Edited to fit, the darkness is entered as snapshot vocal quips, oscillations and synthesised mutations are laid over a lazy, relentless ostinato rhythm where cymbals crash on the bar. Inviting, calling, De Fabriek's aptly titled downer is in fact, a joyous journey.

To complete, label affiliates, Khidja take a break from finalising their debut album to unfold their 'Psychebabble Mix', a dozen plus minutes of warped, twisted, cassette machinations that suck the listener further along the trip. Added bass propels their edit suddenly to a new direction, a hook for mind and for the open willed, the body. De Fabriek's "coming down lullabye" arriving on vinyl for the first time, with a twist and shake, calling deeper to acceptance.

Ground Groove, the third full-length release from the LA-based, Iranian-American producer and DJ, Maral, begins with an invocation: the sprawling, achingly heavy Feedback Jam opens the floodgates of history. Conventional (linear) spacetime collapses, crushed beneath the track’s lumbering 4/4 heartbeat and successive waves of distortion. As each wave recedes, samples trickle forward in the mix — seeking, perhaps, to fill the void. Voices and instruments rise and fall in uncanny reverse. Overlapping, implied melodies flicker into focus, then flit away. Feedback Jam is at once an initiation ritual, and a thesis statement for the record that follows.

Drawing upon a vast personal archive of Iranian folk, classical, and pop recordings (some sourced from mixtapes made by her parents in the eighties/nineties), Maral presents, on Ground Groove, a further refinement of the signature “folk club” sound she developed as a live DJ— a sound she would later codify on Mahur Club (2019) and Push (2020). By collecting, dissecting, and re/presenting sonic fragments from Iran, Maral practices a kind of dance-floor ethnomusicology. The subject of her inquiry: Iranian


culture and contexts, throughout history and in the present. But, crucially, this inquiry is instantiated within and throughout the body of the listener, whether this listener is dancing in the club, or riding the train, nodding along with headphones on.

Maral speaks of being in collaboration with her samples, treating each as a distinct bandmate, often consulting with an artist’s catalog (or even a single recording) as one would a trusted creative partner. In so-doing, Maral claims to seek to transcend the self. In this regard, her output neatly triangulates contemporary dance and heavy music with much of the traditional religious music that she samples. Broadly speaking, each of these idioms addresses a desire —shared by audience and performer alike—to transcend the self through volume, repetition, and movement.

Having, in her youth, studied the Setar under Nader Majd (the founder of Virginia’s Center for Persian Classical Music), Maral cycled through various genres (ex: punk, emo, dub) in her adolescence and early twenties, all the while expanding her knowledge of, and appreciation for, Iran’s diverse musical traditions during regular summer trips to Tehran. In college, Maral taught herself to make beats with a ripped copy of Ableton (which remains her DAW of choice), eventually transitioning to playing and hosting various club nights. Forever abiding by an autodidactic, DIY impulse to create art and foster community, Maral relocated to Los Angeles in 2013, where she quickly immersed herself in the city’s numerous overlapping music scenes.

Collaboration (beyond sampling) has proven an important component of her process, with notable spoken word contributions from the likes of Lee Scratch Perry and Penny Rimbaud, as well as a 2021 Panda Bear collab track (On Your Way), which the Animal Collective founder co-produced. Maral is equally attentive to the visual components of her records (album art, music videos, etc.), drawing upon the work of peers and friends for inspiration.

Indeed, the genesis of Ground Groove can be traced back to an audio-visual collaboration between Maral and the artist Brenna Murphy, originally commissioned for the 2021 Rewire Festival — a project that would eventually serve as the album’s foundation. Tracks eight through eleven on Ground Groove comprise Maral’s half of this installation, with tracks one through seven composed afterwards, inspired by the fruits of Maral and Murphy’s collaboration. Murphy’s visuals will be released alongside Ground Groove as a visual accompaniment. Additionally, Murphy designed the album’s art, directed the video for the lead single (the aforementioned Feedback Jam), and is featured on track six, Shy Night.

Composed largely on Ableton, Ground Groove features more frequent and more prominent live recordings from Maral (guitar, bass, and vocals) than either Push or Mahar Club. The cult favorite Roland MC-909 groovebox rears its head on Mari’s Groove. Mixed by Trayer Tryon (Hundred Waters) and mastered by Daddy Kev, the attention to sonic quality on Ground Groove constitutes another significant step in Maral’s development as a studio artist.

Ground Groove’s eleven tracks are “grooves” in the obvious sense, in that they are each driven by a persistent, propulsive rhythm, but the album’s title may just as well suggest the glacial passage of time—the scope of human history, in which individual voices, like streams, carve paths (impossibly) through earth and stone, winding their way to the vast sea of the present.

WADDUP Tricksters? Pandemics,WW111, or government disclosure of UIA’s stressing ya out? Come find refuge in the void, shut off your brain and let the rapture sweep you into the body zone. Get ready to peer behind the curtains in primordial Bataillen punk rock eletronix-esque sort of way. What are you waiting for download the wav files and get void surfing!

200 limited press black and orange vinyl no repress

Bleed-Abide ist das vierte Full-Length-Album der Band, das auf eine Reihe erfolgreicher Singles folgt, die 2020 und Anfang 2021 veröffentlicht wurden.

Bodysnatcher spielen eine extrem brutale Beatdown- und Slam-Version des Deathcore. Mit ihrem Vorgängeralbum This Heavy Void katapultierte sich die Band in die extreme Metalszene und absolvierte eine Reihe erfolgreicher Tourneen mit Chelsea Grin, Lorna Shore, Enterprise Earth und Slaughter To Prevail.

Das neue Album zeigt die Band in voller Stärke und klopft an die Türen der zeitgenössischen Anführer des Deathcore-Subgenres.

Trauma Collective go out all guns blazing with a fierce offering by ascendant Italian producer Sciahriar Tavakoli aka Sciahri (Sublunar Records/Unknot). The Trauma EP is at once an obviously loyal tribute to the imprint platforming him, while being a visceral soundtrack to the gradual setting in of early morning lights. Wasting no time in exercising his sonic assault, opening cut "Hypnotism" will affect you much like its name suggests on this punishing, splintered- beat body basher, before pummelling you into submission on the strobed-out warehouse techno epic "Plastic Rain". He then ventures into the more abrasive shades of texture and gradient on the experimentally minded "Ava" until getting off-the-grid once more with a descent even deeper into the void, on the knackered closer "Dead Waves".

Spaceship is Mark S. Williamson, a musician, sound artist and educator based in Todmorden, West Yorkshire. His work is often made in response to his environment, working on location, combining field recordings with electronic and acoustic instrumentation, usually recorded outside, amid the landscape and weather. Mark has recorded for wiaiwya, Apollolaan, the Dark Outside and his own Forged River Recordings. His work has been reviewed by The Wire, Electronic Sound, Shindig and The Quietus and he was recently one of the fourteen artists featured in Electronic Sound Magazine’s ‘field recording special’. His collaboration with Luke Turner on series of readings from Luke’s book ‘Out of the Woods’ has seen performances at Cecil Sharp House, Port Eliot Festival, The Trades Club in Hebden Bridge, Krankenhaus Festival and the Horse Hospital and he recently collaborated with the artist Michael Powell on his Calderfolk project. A direct sequel to 2019’s Outcrops (also on wiaiwya), Ravines moves its focus from the uplands above Todmorden to the narrow, steep sided ravines, known as cloughs, that contain the streams that flow down the valley sides to feed the River Calder. These valleys, formed over hundreds, if not thousands of years can be peaceful sanctuaries, their stepped pools and waterfalls a shelter from the windswept moors. In time of heavy rainfall though, they become the conduits for the rapidly descending overland flows which reach the Calder and, in extreme circumstances, cause the floods which remain a part of valley life. These cloughs also saw the beginnings of industry in the area. Colden Clough and Jumble Hole Clough contain the ruin of small water fed mills which would evolve into the much larger steam powered facilities in Todmorden and Hebden Bridge. Mostly recorded in the field using portable equipment, these pieces are intended to reflect all three of these aspects; the peace, the violence and the beginnings of humankind’s ultimate separation from the landscape brought on by the industrial revolution. The sleeve is by Maxim Peter Griffin, an artist, illustrator and writer based in Lincolnshire. A fine art graduate and former stonemason, over the past few years he has been building a body of work that echo his experiences on foot between the North Sea and the hills. "...a luminous soundtrack to the passage of geological time." Shindig // "Williamson is building desire tunnels, churning through the layers of rock and soil to find his conclusions." The Wire // "These rumbling synth drifts and ominous drones transport you to entirely different places-like being cast adrift in a cosmic void" Electronic Sound // "...the droning synthesizer waves conjure up something spectral and eerie, stretching out like the wide horizon..." The Quietus // "Beautiful." Hannah Peel

After the exploration of snowy mountains of Alpestres, released on Hands in the Dark in 2018, French composer Matthias Puech ventures into new territories, sketching a cartography of the invisible where the journey, in chiaroscuro, is announced as a rite of passage. A Geography of Absence, as introspective as unpredictable, immerses the listener into a unique sensory whirlwind where organic matter becomes almost palpable. A researcher in theoretical computer science and an engineer at GRM, Matthias Puech constructs a dialog between synthetic music and field recording, capturing sounds that surround him and creating his own sonic language with the help of synthesizers he designs and develops; notably the Oscillator Ensemble and the Tapographic Delay, made by the American company 4ms.

Composed during a moment marked by ordeal and mourning, A Geography of Absence retraces an inner journey where the physicality of sound leads the listener into an initiatory tunnel filled with apparitions, ghosts, visions. With sound oscillations as a navigational map, we progress, step by step, through the meanders of an unknown world, dazzled by the prospect of a new synthetic horizon, an electronic biotope teeming with life and incarnations. Playing with time, space and matter in an approach similar to that of musique concrète, Matthias Puech combines ambient and noise, floating sounds and electroacoustic experimentations, thus shaking up our listening perspective, which finds itself walking through a parallel universe, strata after strata, sequence after sequence.

The trip begins with “Hollow”, as if on board a night train travelling at full speed through ghost towns. Or is it a spaceship? Removed from their original habitat, sounds – picked up during walks or moduled by synths – are free to be interpreted differently by everyone, according to the memories that shape us. Granular and metallic, this first piece takes us to an elsewhere in orbit. "Work Song" is built around the pulsation of the void, of space, where strange creatures and liquid emanations abound. We become fetus, cocoon coiled in the placenta, heart beating to the rhythm of the gooey choreography of the human body. "Chrysalis" awakens the racket that lies dormant in us, when the skin changes, when the transition takes place. One seems to recognize certain sounds stemming from nature but they could also be mirages, imitating reality to render the barely perceptible engulfing. “Tunnel Vision” brings out a herd of haunted bells, slowly swelling in a pastoral maelstrom, ending in a deafening buzz. Further on, the chirping of an animatronic bird mixes with the hooting of an owl: "A Faint Beacon" invokes a nocturnal vigil that mixes the crackling of a fire and icy gusts of wind blowing everything away. Like an epic, sucking the listener into the breach of a black hole in the center of the Milky Way, it's up to "Homeostasis" to conclude in the high spheres and contemplative vapors, where the balance of dawn announces a rebirth.

A Geography of Absence is a meticulous and sensitive piece that constructs a delicate symphony of extremes, between introspection and desire for the unknown. Accompanied by the ink work of the artist Léa Neuville, whose folds of prints sketch this imaginary atlas, Matthias Puech becomes a narrator of mental adventures. And succeeds once again in transcending reality to dig a path to the unspeakable.

After a long delay due to his previous powerhouse 'Hypnotised' blowing up the worldwide spot, German maestro Purple Disco Machine finally lets loose the next step in his world dance domination. Every superlative under the sun has been used for this man's talents and he does not disappoint with a return to his updated Italo disco stylings on new single 'Exotica'.

Purple Disco Machine remains at the forefront of world dance music, following a series of remixes for A-list icons Diplo, Dua Lipa, Mark Ronson, Foals, Calvin Harris, Fatboy Slim, Sir Elton John, whilst more recently delivering his stellar cuts of Duke Dumont’s ‘Ocean Drive’, and Lady Gaga and Adriana Grande’s international hit single ‘Rain On Me’.

He now unveils yet another side of his impressive production prowess with new single ‘Exotica’ featuring the Italian electro funk producer Mind Enterprises on vocals, creating an electric club record exploring and playing homage to '80s German and Italian euro disco records that he grew up with.

Based around a replayed sample of 80’s Italo disco classic ‘Void Vision’ by Cyber People, Purple Disco Machine creates a high energy dance-floor heater with a lively modulated vocal. ‘Exotica’ shares its name with the forthcoming studio album, which the artist confirms will feature his playful interpretation of the music of the decade that birthed the Purple Disco Machine sound; Synth Pop, Italo Disco, Electro Funk, Soul, R&B and Boogie.

Certified as one of the most prolific electronic artists of our generation, the Dresden born producer ranks #2 on Beatport’s all-time Top Artists, with his 2013 breakthrough hit ‘My House’ remaining as one of the platform’s best-sellers through to today. With an undeniable midas touch, Purple Disco Machine landed himself in the record books once again in 2018, whilst amassing a stunning 100 million streams across his original ‘Dished (Male Stripper)’, and remixes of Weiss’ ‘Feel My Needs’, and most notably his remix of the seminal ‘Praise You’ by industry icon Fatboy Slim. With a slew of varied releases including hit singles ‘In My Arms’, ‘Body Funk’ and ‘Devil In Me’, the producer’s status was propelled by his debut LP ‘Soulmatic’, earning him critical acclaim across the globe.

PRESSED ON ECO-FRIENDLY VINYL AT THE GREENEST PRESSING PLANT IN THE WORLD

The ends of days are ones with which Damian Lazarus is familiar, but, much like his biblical namesake, he too, has come back from the brink and risen to fight on, his career is interwoven with themes of survival and re-birth. Fittingly then, his second solo album does not wallow in our current dark times but charts a path of hope. Flourish, offers a glimpse of a new world worth living in and surviving for.

Flourish takes us through the many lives of Damian Lazarus, who, as he has grown older, and traversed the globe, has come to more deeply examine the role the dance floor plays in his own life and that of others. With parties cancelled, it would have been easy to wallow, but instead urgency took hold, and isolated Italian countryside Damian took the space to tackle the larger questions he has been grappling with for years.

As anyone who has watched Lazarus DJ can attest, his inspirations are deep and varied, criss-crossing show tunes, drum n bass, jazz, electro, soul, house, techno and everything in-between. This album reflects his immersion in a multitude of scenes over the years, from the early days of London drum n bass, to his role as a figurehead in the electroclash scene, and of course the significant impact his Crosstown Rebels label has had on contemporary underground house and techno. Flourish is far from a box of functional DJ tools, in the same way as Damian’s debut album Smoke The Monster Out or the more worldly outings in his brace of albums with the Ancient Moons. It’s a personal, brave and varied body of work. It’s also the work of an artist who has grown over the ten years since his last solo album. Lazarus plays with nuances of texture, tempo and style to create a rich and dense album that takes us on an odyssey that is at times both dark and uplifting. Vocals of his own cast an intimate shadow over the album with those of his sole collaborator Jem Cooke offering a soothing balance amidst the madness.

Damian’s work reminds us that however taxing the journeys there are always moments of beauty to be found.

Casino Times? aka Nicholas Church and Joseph Spencer
from London have been betting against the house for
close to 10 years already, winning big with releases on
Wolf Music, Needwant, Omena and their own Casino
Edits label. The pair also hosts the radio Show “What’s
My Derivative?” on Bloop Radio.
Since Mireia Record’s big cheeses RSS Disco have been keen to gamble with the Time’s
music, routinely lighting up dancefloors with it, a loose connection and mutual admiration
formed over the years and eventually lead to this fine record here.
RUSH & KAWAI
Casino Times demonstrate their cunning yet natural and flowing sound with two originals:
“Rush” and “Kawai”. Both tracks are a proper trip of its own, psychedelic pinball machines
that’ll catapult you to the further edges of the known sphere.
An arpeggiated melody line leads the “Rush”, while a rock solid foundation of hard hitting
drums keep you steady. The melody filters into acidic fringes and a strange voice guides the
traveler to the core of this outer-body experience.
By intertwining a pulsating E-Bass with sharp percussions and a brazen guitar chords,
“Kawai” steers the travels even further out of world’s reach. A whole ensemble of sirens and
vocal fragments warn of imminent rapture. After this, it’ll be hard to return to the mundane.New Release Information
KAWAI (Conga Fever’s Belgian Fries Remix)
Leading the string of three remixes is Mireia’s Conga Fever. Known by now for impeccable
and inspired productions he might just have outdone himself again with this interpretation
of “Kawai”.
Taking cues from Belgian New Beat while sounding unconditionally modern at the same
time, Conga Fever has crafted a bona fide festival anthem. After confidently building up
tension and taking his time in the breakdown, the remix manages to release an incredible
amount of energy. We’ve seen people out of their minds and literally stage dive to this one.
KAWAI (Rigopolar Remix)
A new face and dream cast to the label: Rigopolar aka Menio Brown. The Brooklyn-based
producer and DJ has been on our radar for some years with a string of captivating releases
for Tom Tom Disco, Nazca Records and an upcoming EP on Duro. Especially “Sun Of
Lemuria’s” hypnotic brittleness turned our heads.
Adding a new high point to his repertoire, Rigopolar’s take on “Kawai” is an expansive, dark
journey into the void. Powerful lasers and strobe lights appear to lead the way, emergency
broadcast voices beckon the dancers to the floor. The clobbering bassline and twitching
melody help to reach previously unseen heights.
RUSH (Filburt Remix)
Working his signature slow-burn magic on his remix of “Rush” is Filburt. More than happy to
welcome him back to the label. The O*RS label head, DJ and producer is responsible for
some of our favorite material in the past and does not disappoint with this remix either.
Lush pad sounds oppose salient drumming, slowly tightening the atmosphere while a robotic
voice evokes a melancholic mood. The whole night’s rooted on this fervid bassline and it’ll
carry you into next Monday

Microdosing is a series of compilation 12”s selected by Julienne Dessagne aka Fantastic Twins, and designed in collaboration with French visual artist Geff Pellet. Microdosing is a collective experiment aimed at helping you fighting back your modern obsession with happiness. You may deserve a nice day but the day does not need a nice you, nothing should be forced, everything is permitted. Microdosing will provide you with sonic healing weapons on regular basis and at irregular dosage. Those doses will favour psychedelic social techniques against self help tyranny, creation over soma, provoking over numbing, our outer-selves over our inner-selves. Microdosing refuses the fatality of the pleasure principle. Life is a struggle, time to embrace it. —— "My battery is low and it’s getting dark” We at Microdosing will make Opportunity’s famous last words fully ours. Some would see these as an epitaph on a black screen, we embrace them as a reclaimed fragility. Are we grains of sand wandering in space, hoping for a goal? No. We are the cosmos, the cosmos is us, unafraid of the end, unafraid of the void. Before the rise of the infinite silence, Microdosing brings you new guiding lights, white sun or black hole being a simple permutation of the kinetic rainbow. Oceanic’s “Parallel Lines Of Stripes” is a meandering mantra, an synthesised Moebius ring, a mission to your heart, that furthest star in the sky. Gilb’R’s “Cosmogonie” simply reminds us of the profound relation between spatial systems and the holy act of birth (cosmo, world and gon, conceive). The universe is a body, your body is your universe. Lucas Croon’s “Threshold Stimulus” is the soundtrack of a never ending voyage, the man is on a trip to the core sanctum. Imagine Space as a reverberation room cladded with bakelite. Losing yourself in delay repeats sometimes is the shortest way. Neuzeitliche Bodenbeläge & Sam Irl’s “Faeden” is another hymn to the umbilical chords joining us to the outer world, a black monolith of kraut acid, a pagan dance as portal to a destination only you can choose. Microdosing will be back soon with more enablers, helping to turn your petty struggles into a search for a meaning of life. The Quest lives on.

Domestic Exile are proud to present the devastatingly deplorable and malevolent recordings (that are sure to corrode yet electrify your ears) by Glasgow's very own KLEFT.

KLEFT aka Vickie McDonald is rooted in and has actively propagated the underground DIY radical queer punk and feminist movement here in Glasgow. Their projects have included the skull crushing sludge doom of Cartilage, the unflinching and infamous multi- membered hard core stars that were DIVORCE and the sacrificial, druid drone glitch of MOURN. Alongside these projects they have uncompromisingly disrupted, motivated and facilitated collective endeavors to take down the capital power structure of the dominant system of patriarchal club venues and abhorrent fuckers in this town.

For this record 'H+ Sexualis', KLEFT explores the neo-modern space where flesh is left behind. Negotiating, analyzing and tearing to shreds the relationship and balance between flesh and technology. KLEFT's expansive and palpable sonic offerings delve into themes of transhumanism and body hacking and seep into our collective skin begging the question; can flesh ever be created digitally. Does a lack of physicality alienate human experience in a post transhumanism society Are we all destined to be skinless yet digitally connected Will the body become superfluous Toward "the utopian dream of the hope for a monstrous world without gender," as stated on Donna Haraway's essay ''A Cyborg Manifesto.'

From the opening track 'Ossein' the listener grasps a foreboding lethargic build up, lurking out of the spatial ritualistic shadows into a sea of suffocating nothingness. A void where there is no gravity. Skeletal and brittle shattering rhythms which echo DMZ / Skull Disco dubstep alongside the more frozen, glacial ominous explorations of grime are often felt proving KLEFT is an artist whose inspirations run deep and wide and generally exist in the darkest recesses of our subconscious. These fearful, disjointed rhythms are set against weightless atmospheric oscillated synths, as if roaming through bleakly opaque, claustrophobic narrow corridors on a first person survival horror video game such as Resident Evil.

Moving through to 'CMBR', KLEFT's dissonant, degrading soundscape ferociously ascends. The resilient kick drum is propulsive and pulverizing akin to 'ardcore tekno - or intense gabba if you have the guts to adjust the tempo up to +8 - aesthetics that overwhelm and agitate finally revealing it's grotesque biological / amorphous bio structure. Elevating the repetitive 4/4 kick to a destructive, distorted banger of a track as layers of converging atonal noise and sound design simultaneously further enhances the sense of imminent radioactive contamination.

Next is 'Writhe, Squirm, Broken' continuing the convulsive, nauseating permutations of the prior track but reconfigured like a mangled, gruesome Cronenberg-esque parasite that has infiltrated an open wound, excruciatingly feeding off of the inner anatomy of it's hosts body from within. Repulsively reformulating the shape and dimension. The intro is akin to a panic stricken bouncy ball contracting and expanding, the spring reverb building momentum and traveling further away in distance and speed.

'Hackfleisch Deluxe' is a muuurrderous stomper and is one of the more grime / bass orientated tracks that deconstructs and disrupts the tempo familiar to sub-low producers on Black Ops / Jon E Cash / DJ Dread D. The crawling, plummeting frequency of the synth is a nauseating rush of coagulating blood to the heed; a deep throbbing sensory depravation in sharp, paradoxical contrast with the driving harmony layered on top which proves to be infectiously addictive. Furthermore are splintering programmed vocal samples that gives a sense of artificial disorientation, mind over matter, a possible hint at our evolving sentient cognition within a nightmarish simulated, augmented reality

Second to last we have 'Keratin' which is filled with the near fatal dissolving thud of Djax-Up acid that gives the impression that you're a biologist peering through a microscope into a petrie dish and witnessing the rapid and furious genetic cellular replication of bacterial and viral organisms.

Culminating in 'Bruised and Bleeding Hands' where the squashed density of a deflated and depressurized helium filled balloon and elastic umbilical cords, barbed wire and copper wires grind n' coil around the lens of a zooming camera. Taking no prisoners, this is a punishing grime weapon. A phat, surgical kick drum bulldozes its way thru causing carnage, syncopated punching snares after every rave stab and dizzying third beat. It won't be long until ye hear this on Silver Drizzle's youtube channel in the near future.

This record transports us to the hyperkinetic mutation scene on the cult cyberpunk film Tetsuo The Iron Man where the organic flesh / mechanical rust of the Iron Man metamorphoses with the Metal Fetishist during the rebirth sequence and we say 'LONG LIVE THE NEW FLESH!''.

Sweden's Kess Kill And Italy's Veleno Viola Join Forces Resulting In A (nowadays) Rare Vinyl Split Release, Ie One Side Per Label.
Violet Poison Needs Little Introduction, Being One Of The First And Most Productive In The New New Wave Movement Of Industrial Music. He Helms The Side Veleno Viola, Coincidentally Being His Own Label, With Three Songs Of Purist Industrial With Its Feet In Both Body And Rhythmic Noise.
On Kess Killís Side B, The Very Same Signore Baudazzi Shows Another Side With His Anarcho Alias Bakunin Commando. Two Tracks Leaning Heavily Towards Post-punk And Proto-techno, Raising The Pulse Far Above The Wholesome, In True Kess Kill Manner.

Qu'est-ce Qu'il Fait Chaud!

We welcome the vinyl format after a hiatus to embark into an energy-driven journey, full of potent, cross-genre tracks courtesy of Mr. Ben Cano.

Ben, which previously collaborated on this label as TenienteTuko, builds on the previous album-creating experience and he outdoes himself in multiple ways, keeping the variety of groove encompassing all together with his propelling signature techno ethos.

'Deep Snowmass' starts the EP in a harsh, mental way to induce rapidly to a dark feeling which leaves you in the void with a malleable conscience that allows your body and soul to float, with the help of an ever-building acidic bass and pulsating percussion.

'Rocky Mountain' goes to other heights, using a uplifting Rhodes chord and effective drum programming to deliver a dreamy wave of full potential.

'Between dub', 'hitch' and 'Tube 8' seal the deal with energetic, acid-infused and sometimes-housey takes from his recent live set, which he manages to reorganize in the track format we currently offer as black pressed acetate.

Black & Clear Mixed Vinyl

aniel Schwerdel aka Acid Lab has been a familiar face on Lossless Music and Dope Plates over the last few years. Turning heads with his tracks 'Ancestors' and 'Tundra', Dan has laid the ground work for a bigger project, a solo album. 'A Matter Of Time' is a stunning 10 track breakbeat odyssey which sees Dan draw on influences from the past as well as futuristic visions which combine to form a body of work that perfectly fits the Dope Plates ethos.

Legendary Los Hermanos member Santiago Salazar's album 'Aspirations For Young Xol' is given a vinyl release courtesy of Rekids.

A heartfelt dedication to his son Isaias, 'Aspirations for Young Xol' takes us through the life of a pillar in the electronic music community - Santiago Salazar. From his formative years spent in California to his connection with Detroit and the passing of a childhood friend, the long-player's tracks signpost the musician's significant experiences, both positive and negative. This meaningful body of work was released digitally on Pastel Voids and now Rekids release the album on wax.

'Saturated Fear' sets a deep tone for the LP, flanging melodies and echoing claps float through the composition before the album's title track 'Aspirations for Young Xol' offers haunting arpeggios with occasional acidic overtones which are cleverly offset by beautifully designed lead synth transitions. 'Bloodlines' follows a similar musical vein with delayed bass riffs that are suspended above shimmering hihats and a weighted kick.

Santiago provides three beatless pieces throughout, which digress into more emotional territory whilst offering brief respite from his heavier drum work. 'Xol's Pain' combines orchestral strings and swelling synthesisers which build tension with a subtly complex, evolving motif. Both 'Dark Matter' and 'Ode to Stinson' use arresting atmospheres, warped arpeggios and ethereal pads which lull the listener into a retrospective mood.

An intensity builds in the later tracks, a gritty but powerful low end provides a solid foundation in 'Orange Blossom Thump', eventually making way for a hectic and elastic lead synth before 'Pachuco Dub' displays drones that build a dissonant pressure in which the complex tom rhythms and rolling hi hats can grow. 'Sarah Rivera' hypnotises with its delectable chord progressions and complimentary melodies which seem to float above a rigid drum composition to close the album with style.

After kicking off the year with Body Reflections pt.1 on Tresor, Berlin-based, Bournemouth-born Ben Thomas aka BNJMN is back with new label Tiercel. As an outlet for floor focused tracks he kicks off the imprint with "Paean" - 2 slabs of atmospheric, hypnotic, sci-fi Techno plus an ambient excursion in true otherworldly BNJMN fashion.

The A1 track "Mass Conductor" solidifies BNJMN as a producer who can take the mood in any direction, creating layer upon layer of dense sonics which build to a pulverising climax. "The Greater Void" is a jarring beatless soundscape which takes you to the edge of the earth and finally the title track "Paean" is a song of worship - smooth yet hard, manic yet playful; taking you on a journey of paradoxes and sonic mysteries.

THE ASSISTENZ is the culmination of a four year creative hot streak as vivid as any part of CRISTAN VOGEL's long career. The trio of dance oor-oriented records formed by 2012's The Inertials, 2014's Polyphonic Beings and now THE ASSISTENZ are sensual pleasures rst and foremost: a lifetime of study of frequencies and rhythms on the frontline of the world's clubs has been put into the creation of sounds that interface with the nervous system and emotional re- sponses with extraordinary immediacy. But there's much more too: together with the more ab- stracted album Eselsbru¨cke, these form an enticing sonic narrative, encoded themes running through them, each part revealing more about the whole. THE ASSISTENZ, then, is many things: a personal document, a tribute to Copenhagen where it was recorded and after whose famous cemetery it is named - but also the nal piece in this bigger puzzle, which unlocks untold secrets from the previous three records.

There's a deeper history, of course. CRISTIAN's productions going back to the start of the 1990s have woven their way into the fabric of underground culture. His own recent remasters of his early albums, and the Sub Rosa Classics 1993-1998 collections have shown just how potent his early work remains. But his new work exists in a very different world to those past works, and is far removed from the recent electronic generations who he has in uenced too. In fact, as you listen to THE ASSISTENZ, you realise that there's no point making comparisons with other elec- tronic producers at all. While you will certainly hear some of the most fundamental and enduring vectors of underground music - dub, electro, acid, funk - owing through the tracks, even those things are rebuilt from the molecular level, created completely afresh with new, precise, but some- what skewed vision.

CRISTIAN's understanding of music now is spectral. That is to say, with every step through his exploration of sound over the years, he has made more and more detailed analyses of the specif- ic frequencies that make up speci c sounds and produce speci c effects on the human mind and body. And as a result, his own sound synthesis - increasingly done via the Kyma programming platform - is more and more able to reach beyond the 'synthetic' and impact in uncanny and wonderful ways. The most obvious sense of this is the way his sounds touch on the human voice: not just in the chattering, shimmering, singing tones of THE ASSISTENZ's ghostly centrepiece 'Barefoot Agnete', in the alien radio signals of 'The Merman's Dream' or even in the subliminal 'aaah's hiding in the background of the noisy 'Vessels', but in the way any sound, anywhere in any track can sound peculiarly vocal, heard from the right angle.

And it's not just the boundary between human and non-human, or that between acoustic and synthetic, that get blurred to the point of non-existence. CRISTAN's creative methodology now is all about leaving you so uncertain about where anything came from, or what scale the sounds are operating on, that you have no choice but to let go of preconceptions and standardised criti- cal faculties and go with it. Sometimes that can take you to places where darkness and physical- ity close in on you as on 'Vessels' or 'Telemorphosis', or into haunted spaces on the edge of the void like those of 'Snowcrunch' and 'Barefoot Agnete', but even in those, there is euphoria. And in the voluptuousness of 'Hold' or the body-rocking funk of 'Cubic Haze', all the abstraction is grounded in the sheer pleasure of your own bodily responses to the sound.

So many of the science ction dreams of the 1990s are now (virtual) reality. We live in a time when social networks consciously manipulate our emotions, where data is money, where ma- chines learn, where images can't be trusted, and where the synthetic can feel more real than real. Over some 25 years, CRISTIAN's experiments have traced much of this weirdness and evolved with it, and his understanding of synthesis and algorithmic processes to create structure makes him one of the most important composers working today. But THE ASSISTENZ doesn't just ex- periment with the interfaces between mind, body and machine: it expresses those relationships in ways that are beautiful, troubling, moving and scary, and which even make you want to dance. Together with the preceding three albums it enacts a glorious, endlessly-explorable mapping of just what electronic music can do.