Across four tracks of lean and potent workouts with his unmistakable sonic signature, Peverelist returns to Livity Sound with his first release of 2026. After three years shaping out the Pulse series, Pace The Wrecks EP finds Pev shifting focus in subtle ways while upholding his focus on impactful, sprightly club modernism.
It's clear there are fresh inputs into the Peverelist sound from the very first note of 'Wreck I', which opens on an ominous lower-register piano note leading into a brooding house-tempo cut laced with sci-fi synth licks. On 'Wreck II' the dial shifts towards a more rapid-fire, electro-informed rush before swerving towards the bass-heavy, bleep-loaded jack of 'Wreck III'. 'Wreck IV' closes the EP out on a more sparsely arranged broken beat tip primed for lighter moments in the mix.
True to Pev's singular sound while maintaining the consistently fresh, uplifting energy of his recent output, Pace The Wrecks opens up the next phase in his studio work with assured poise and a sustained commitment to keep pushing forwards.
‘I have always been drawn to those ambiguous territories between beauty and terror, and the Trinity test is their epitome: magnificent, sublime, terrifying, annihilating. A destructive power that, somehow, only love can compare with.’
The prescriptive art and performance of Berlin based, French producer, Julienne Dessagne, has concluded with a starkly beautiful reimagining of Chris Isaak’s Wicked Game.
As Fantastic Twins, her continuing creative manifestation for music and performance, has released an array of electronic art for the body and mind. A sonic exploration of dual characters shaped through experimental pop, cinematic electronics and the outer edges of techno.
First appearing on the cult Hippie Dance label, before establishing a long and warm collaboration with Keith McIvor aka JD Twitch and his inspiring Optimo Music label, as well as her own House Of Slessor label, this release comes full of mythology and symbolism.
Immersive sound design, narrative tension, and emotionally charged atmospheres, the origin of the project – Wicked Game (Trinity Version) – was composed for a live performance at the Beta Biennale Of Architecture Of Timișoara in September 2024 and given a limited digital release soon after.
The impact on the artist and the music was multi-layered:
‘While recording this cover, images of the Trinity nuclear test, as reimagined by David Lynch in Twin Peaks (Season 3 / Episode 8) kept resurfacing, almost on a subliminal level, suggesting another wicked game: humanity’s love affair with science and technology, driven by the same mix of desire fascination and inevitability that animates Chris Isaak’s original song.’
Approached by Emotional Response, this updated “vinyl” edition is re-recorded / remastered and comes with new interpretations by Julienne herself, as well as remixes by Aho Ssan and Optimo (Espacio).
Dessagne offers a spectrum of mixes and moods; the centrifugal ‘Trinity Version’ a sweeping cinematic masterpiece, between beauty and terror, the artist transmits the aesthetics of sublime; while ‘Thousand Suns Version’ fuses industrial and techno soundscapes for a beatdown reimagining; the melancholia ‘Atomic Love Version’, where the beautiful vocals are matched with a glitchy, clipping ambience; and the finale, the ‘Core Version’ shines a personal, drifting odyssey.
The accompanying remixes see Aho Ssan (Niamké Désiré), composer and sound artist, his remake merging a love of darkcore drone with moments of uplifting energy, the ‘Core Version Aho Ssan Remix’, a fusion of craft and Dessagne’s vocals.
To close, taking up the Optimo remix mantle, Jonnie Wilkes embraces the propulsion, his ‘Thousand Suns Version Optimo (Espacio) Remix’, offering brooding, electro-driven percussion that overflows with emotion and completes this stunning, evolving, organic and singular remake.
In The Dark Again continues to stand for timeless electronic music at its finest. Release No. 14 is yet another testament to that.
The journey begins with the stunning anthem «Tomb of Ligeia» by Scottish artist Sebastian Swarm.
Next up is synth master Heinrich Dressel, delivering the beautifully melancholic and effortlessly cool «Elka Snow Cat.»
Electro hero Konerytmi rounds off Side A with a deep and bleepy cut.
The flip side opens with the massive, brooding «Ruined Horizons» by Be Dellow, a project by Violet Poison, whom the label fans will also know as Bakunin Commando.
Another familiar face brings the record to a close: Igors Vorobjovs, whose unmistakable sci-fi electro never fails to captivate.
Dark Entries is Elbow Deep in the Hoopla thanks to J.D. Slater. Legendary actor, director, and composer J.D. Slater is sometimes known as “the Lou Reed of gay porn.” Slater cut his teeth in the New York punk scene, even opening for the Talking Heads and Blondie at CBGB with his project Frenzy. A true polymath of the erotic, he co-founded Raging Stallion Studios with Chris Ward in 1999, which has remained a prolific outlet in the world of gay pornography. Elbow Deep collects the scores from three late 1990s fisting-focused Club Inferno films: At Arm’s Length, Hand Over Fist, and Heads or Tails. Never before released, these works show Slater digging deeper into the electronic music production techniques that were blossoming in that era, like loop-based sampling. Says Slater, “Suddenly I could have access to every instrument in the world. My whole concept of sound and structure evolved with the technology.” The works here are trance-inducing groovers, laced with acid and dosed with brooding ambience. Check out the Gregorian vibes on “Grand Fuck,” the legato lurch of “Stallion Funk,” or the frosty atmospheres of “At Arm’s Length.” Elbow Deep in the Hoopla comes with an insert featuring an interview with J.D. Slater. Starkly sexy, these tracks remind us of Slater’s creed: “The main rule for writing a porn score is to remember what you are writing for.”
Mining the rich seam between transcendental escapism and crushing physical pressure, Sciama delivers his first album for Samurai Music. Exploring an energetic pitch between half-time and full-tilt 170, the London-based producer sculpts brooding soundscapes of sheer peaks and deep pits, driven by unrelenting but light-footed forward motion and an imposing strain of sound design. As Sciama, Michael Watters has been marking out his exacting sound since 2019 with an assured run of albums on ASC's Auxiliary label. His second EP for Samurai — the Wave Interaction 12" released earlier this year — pointed to his current area of focus inspired by the teachings of electronic music pioneer Daphne Oram. Contemplating the relationship between precise electronic frequencies and human perception, Celetal Form now delivers the full findings of his exploration. Oram coined the term 'celetal' in her 1972 book An Individual Note of Music, Sound and Electronics, trying to sum up a connection between the celestial and electrical. It's this spiritual dimension contained within sound waves Watters is concerned with, and the shape of the music on Celetal Form follows suit. In an opening statement of abyssal ambience, 'Overload Into Silence' establishes an atmosphere that endures throughout the album. Caught between steely textures, vaporous reverb tails and subtle harmonic interactions, the glacial shift of the many layers under Watters' control reveals an intense amount of detail at play even before drums and bass come into play. From there on in, the intensity ramps up from one heavyweight stepper to the next. There is agile, brittle top-end percussion at work on the likes of 'Induced Resonance' and 'Consuming Pulse', perhaps the most closely connected to D&B, while 'Rational Echoes' and 'Scanning Waveband' deal in urgency and techno-coded tension. A half-time roll guides the huge kick drum undulations of 'No Panacea', and 'Celetal Emergence' opens up into more spacious surroundings to let the subtle microtonal inflections of the synth tones set a curious mood. The two 'Intermodulation' tracks bring Watters' exacting approach into sharp focus, pushing the drums back and foregrounding alien frequencies that coalesce into unfamiliar yet strangely uplifting forms. Throughout Celetal Form this uncanny sensation charges the music with a power that reaches beyond its immediate, surface level impact. This intentional reflection on Oram's visionary thinking charges the current sound of Sciama with energetic intrigue that stands apart and invites a mindful, maybe even spiritual, engagement.
Nu Vision is a modern salon for visionary leaders, fighting for their art, standing by truths, defending voices, honoring progenitors, whilst pushing forwards towards a new paradigm. The band all have their own stories and extensive discographies, records released on labels you might know, gigs played in places you might have attended but none of that matters. This is a new beginning. A group. A collective.A movement. Nu Vision is a band in the classic do-you-believe-in-alchemy sense. Equal parts rhythm, damage, and deep feeling. Their friends at DFA noted that the album “sounds like Depeche Mode scoring a Michael Mann montage: brooding,motorik, and shot through with black-and-blue beauty.” this idea is taken further in the first video from the album for track one / side one “Time” that launches the project publically along with the albums announcement. The palette of ‘The Seed’ is defined and refined in the best way. It’s an album that opens up many pathways. Brisker, freakier tracks like “Shadow In The Dark,” “R U Serious?” and “Humanity” run towards a softer finish with “Somedays” and the seven-minute, eyeliner-smearing closing ballad, “Lullaby Garden.” These are proper songs made with vintage machines, with a sound that carries obvious influences. ’ The Seed’ pulses forward as the body of the beast is turned inside out, wearing a beating heart on its sleeve, honoring those who left us too soon - DAF’s Gabi Delgado, Nitzer Ebb’s Douglas McCarthy, Depeche Mode’s Andrew Fletcher, and Sandwell District’s Juan Mendez. It’s important to note the emotional core of ‘The Seed’ album is the song ‘Synchronicity’ that is filled with both love and regret, the story of losing a friend without properly making amends. It is unquestionably heartbreaking, but is also delivered with a pang of hope, the feeling that with so many sunrises caught, so many additions and subtractions in life, a perspective has been gained. This is no freshman effort; but rather, a masterclass in continuing sonic education, delivering a unified experience from beginning to end. A New Vision
Title track ‘Haunted City’ is five-and-a-half minutes of bumping techno cut through with plaintive pads. Metronomic drum patterns propel the EP from the get-go, fist-pumping forwards like marching music for our inevitable mech overlords.
‘Knopfmond’ is a brooding chugger. With its muted synth stabs and prominent kick, you can practically smell the smoke machine in the break.
‘Pinch Hitter’ ups the tempo further. Despite its propulsive intent, it shifts into something deeper and more introspective than typical peak-time territory; a tool for selectors willing and able to surf intensity and create intimate moments.
Closing track ‘Trix’ is an energetic cut from the off, utilizing a pendulous bassline that coaxes feet to the floor when unleashed at the right time.
Not much is known about the background of this cache of firepower, other than it originates in Canada. Use all weapons wisely to avoid any future arms embargoes.
Diaspora II continues Exit Safe Mode’s evolution with a sound that leans deeper into
dub-influenced textures while maintaining their techno foundation. The album shifts
into noticeably darker territory, embracing heavier tones, more brooding energy, and
a mood that feels both introspective and ominously intense.
“The Long Transition From Death To Wisdom” marks a new chapter in Dmitry’s evolving sonic world – a contemplative, slow‑burning journey through grief, memory, and the quiet emergence of clarity. Rooted in a brooding fusion of shoegaze, goth, and darkwave, the album drifts through washed out guitars, spectral synths, and poignant vocals – its emotional landscape suspended between sadness and awakening. On vocal duties is Dmitry’s longtime collaborator Valeria Simonova, whose presence deepens the album’s atmosphere. Each track feels like a step forward in the ritual of becoming aware of one’s own existence, moving through silence and ancient memories toward a sense of spiritual renewal.
The album opens with the mysticism and layered metaphors of “Liar,” before descending into the ancient, biblical presence of “Serpent Queen.” Midway, “Zenith” rises with shimmering synths and steady, triumphant percussion, while “Echoes of Yesterday” lingers in celestial melancholy, dissolving the boundary between remembrance and insight. The Bside begins with “The Other Side of Life,” a threshold into a quieter, more reflective space, followed by the meditative, ritual like ambience of “Shrine of Ruins.” Closing track “Cold” offers a final exhale from the fading realm of the past – an acceptance shaped by distance, time, and the erosion of old wounds.
An array of musicians contributed to the recoding of the album: Mathys Dubois (No One Is Innocent, exBlack Strobe), Loïc Maurin (M83), Victor Sologub (Deadушки, Странные Игры), Alexander Titov (Кино, Аквариум), Ben Easton (Deary), and others. The album was mastered at Abbey Road Studios by Miles Showell.
After inaugurating Saibai with the Samurai Music sub label's first release in 2025, Brendon Moeller returns with a new six-track excursion into the realm of splintered dubwise electronics. 侍栽培六 arrives alongside a partner release on Samurai Music, offering a subtle distinction of expressive, internal reflections that widen the landscape of Moeller's unique, prolific take on experimental soundsystem music. There are codes of classic dub that creep through the moody hinterland shaped out across these new works, and they inject warmth into the relatively forbidding atmospheres Moeller shapes out with eerie drones and chasmic reverb decays. The bassline on 'Disintegration Suite' has a steppas-like propulsion begging out for a mammoth rig loaded with heavyweight subs, while 'Fate's Rhythm' bristles with skeletal percussion rattling in the middle distance. 'Signal Path's synthetic murmurs of melodica and liberal spring reverb come straight from the Perry-Tubby school of sound sorcery. Of course, these ancient inflections are only part of the picture. Moeller's affinity for head-nodding half-time immersion and tense scene-setting define 'Dislocation' while his techno instincts guide the psychoactive arps modulating through 'Magnetic Sleep'. Every track has its own nuanced complexities, reference points and alchemical fusions bedded into a cohesive, brooding universe of sound that exponentially expands around his studio. Alongside the steely structures of Codebreaker, 侍栽培六 adeptly pushes at the observable edge as he leads us into unexplored space.
Continuing his compelling exploration of dubwise pressure at 170, the relentlessly prolific Brendon Moeller returns to Samurai Music with six stunning demonstrations of purposeful minimalism and spatial intrigue. Arriving in tandem with a second EP of introspective meditations on Samurai sub label SAIBAI, Codebreaker finds Moeller's peerless run of shadowy broken dub techno yielding startling new forms as the upstate New York artist continues to mine a rich seam of inspiration.
There's a pronounced economy of sound exacted on Codebreaker that binds the tracks together aesthetically, taken to the furthest reaches of subtlety on 'Dorian Grey Frequencies' as filigree slithers of percussion skitter across a brooding surface of sub bass with little in the way of distraction. This approach allows the microscopic detail of Moeller's engineering to shine through, as every inflection and murmur crackles with lithe movement to give each track its captivating energy.
Fractured beatdowns creep into earshot on 'Static Possession', edging towards Gescom-informed B-boy structures head-spinning in cryo-stasis surrounded by the hum of machines from a distant future and punctuated with occasional bullet points of delay soaked acid. Even when the bass starts to snarl and the hi-hats start ticking faster on 'Interzone Pulse', they're managed with brutal precision and a narrative flow of anti-build-ups that maintains a nail-biting tension throughout.
The decision to lean into a stripped-back sound on Codebreaker shows the faith Moeller places in his particular interpretation of bassweight 170, as his jaw-dropping sound design speaks volumes with the most modest of lexicons in a dialect never heard before.
In Dead Deities, SATANIC PLANET’s new album for Relapse Records, we see a band coming into its own while offering an aggressive, pitch-black, deeply surly call-to-arms against autocracy in the age of Christian Nationalism. Lucien Greaves (The Satanic Temple co-founder and spokesperson), Luke Henshaw (Planet B, Sonido de la Frontera, First Power Crew, Variations In the Key of the Afterlife), Dave Lombardo (Slayer, Misfits, Mr. Bungle, Dead Cross), and Justin Pearson (The Locust, Swing Kids, Deaf Club) are now a fully together-in-the-studio band with razor-sharpened focus, creating a sound and lyrical catalog of ideas that Greaves says is both more personal and even closer aligned to the goals of The Satanic Temple, which through art, action, and activism seeks to “encourage benevolence and empathy, reject tyrannical authority, advocate practiced common sense, oppose injustice, and undertake noble pursuits.” The Satanic Temple and SATANIC PLANET are here to empower all those who are needed in the ongoing battle against theocracy, apathy, and inequality. Dead Deities begins as a brooding, doomy soundscape with backwards ritualistic vocals that churn forward like a barbaric horror flick scene before launching into the aptly named “Antichrist,” with a hypnotic, screamy post-post-post-hardcore intro that melds into a slow, nasty, heavy vision of what pop music might sound like in Hell. This 11-track stygian brute of an album is a journey through modern dark music with tolling bells, blackened synth, diabolical noise interludes, drums as heavy as a mountain, and group vocals torn straight out of your best-worst nightmares.
Some recordings herald the future in ways that are impossible to see in real time. Teodros Makonnen With His Organ (ቴዎድሮስ መኮንን ከኦርጋኑ ጋር), by the artist Teodros Makonnen, also known as Teddy Mak, is one of those. Today, electronic sounds, synthesizers, and digital production are taken for granted in Ethiopian music, but in the early 1980s, they were novelties that polarized opinion. Even to this day, the story of Teodros Makonnen’s legacy has never been properly told. He played a decisive role in defining the sound of the digital era of Ethiopian music that emerged in the 1980s and beyond, both as a keyboard player and as a producer, songwriter, performer, and sound designer.
Ethiopian music was at a crossroads in the early 1980s. Much like music in the rest of the world, technology and automation heralded either a quantum leap in musical development or the annihilation of musicianship, depending on who you’d ask. The changes were incremental nonetheless, but with the benefit of hindsight one can clearly see that the changes meant different things in different contexts. Drum machines and electric organs came to replace many hotel bands because, all of a sudden, one musician could control drums, melody, and accompaniment. Teodros was one of the first musicians in Ethiopia to explore the possibilities this opened up.
Teodros’ father, Captain Makonnen Beri, was a chief pilot at Ethiopian Airlines and a music enthusiast at that. This would prove important to his development, as Makonnen brought back a piano from Germany, which would lead to the first steps in Teodros’ long musical career. Captain Makonnen’s work as Head of Flight Operations and as a pilot exposed him to the wider world that was far from commonplace for most Ethiopians. In a house where music captivated the whole family, the piano gave Teodros’ talent an outlet. Not only was a piano at home rare in Ethiopian households, his father also brought an Indian teacher to their home to teach Teodros and his brother, Captain Samuel Makonnen, music theory (solfeggio or ear training) and piano. Teodros and his youngest brother, the late great Dereje, a member of both the legendary Ibex Band and the Ethiopian reggae group Dallol, took up music from that point onward, with Teodros beginning to develop his proficiency at the age of eight. His father encouraged him to practice tirelessly at home, and Teodros later received musical schooling at the German School in Addis Ababa. His obvious talent led to studies and formal education at the Yared School of Music, followed by continued studies in American jazz at Northern Virginia Community College in Virginia. Teodros cut his teeth professionally in his mid-teens, not only as a keyboardist, but also as an arranger for the Wabi Shebelle and Dahlak bands in the 1970s. He mastered electronic sequencing early, rising to prominence through the midnight recording sessions held during the military curfew. The pressures imposed by the curfew required precise and disciplined recordings, and Teodros delivered just that. This, in turn, led to collaborations with iconic artists such as Mulatu Astatke, Aster Aweke, Menelik Wossenachew, Tilahun Gessesse, Mahmoud Ahmed, and Alemayehu Eshete. In those days, he sat in as a keyboardist with the Dahlak Band when Dawit Yifru took a hiatus to study in Russia, and also with the Ethiostar Band. He secured a residency at the Wabi Shebelle Hotel with the Shebele Band, together with Zelalem Tadese (drums), later succeeded by Elias Bekele, Mulugeta Hailu (bass), Teferi ‘Bibisha’ Mengesha (guitar), Kumelachew G/Selassie (trumpet), and Teshome Deneke (saxophone). A friendly competition developed between the bands associated with the Ras Hotel (the Ibex Band), Ghion Hotel (the Dahlak Band), and Wabi Shebelle Hotel (the Shebele Band). The music scene at Wabi Shebelle saw teenagers commanding the spotlight in an industry otherwise dominated by musicians of an older generation. At the Wabi Shebelle Hotel, Teodros met a diplomat from Saudi Arabia and later visited him at his home in Addis Ababa, a meeting that had unexpected musical consequences. The man owned a Yamaha double-deck keyboard. That evening, they recorded Teodros Makonnen With His Organ (ቴዎድሮስ መኮንን ከኦርጋኑ ጋር) in one take. This recording, a cornerstone in the early digital sound of Ethiopian music, came about almost by chance, simply because Teodros got the opportunity. Traditional Ethiopian songs were cast in a wholly electronic style. Once freed from backing duties, Teodros’ keyboards could explore dreamlike soundscapes that took Ethiopian music in new directions. Even though the cassette contained well-known Ethiopian songs, they were given highly original arrangements, performed on an electric organ with drum machine backing and rhythm patterns that left the listener with suggestive, lingering sounds. “Libesh Kabashen” (also known as “Anchi Bale Game”) and “Odu Gol Golesa” wrap you in the very stuff that dreams are made of. Originally released on cassette only, this recording exudes a mystique that surpasses even some of the most obscure Ethiopian recordings of the day. It remained more or less unknown outside of Ethiopia until now. Some of the tracks, like “Addis Fikir,” are permeated with an almost naive buoyancy, free-floating sounds that lost contact with the ground the moment they were conceived. Others, like “Meche New Hageren Yemayew” and “Lelitu Alnega Alegn,” carry a moodier, quirkier timbre, with pulsating rhythms in the background. Yet even the darker pieces contain an unmistakable wave, something essentially Ethiopian. If most recordings of Teodros’s contemporaries at the time were teeming with atmosphere, his songs seem instead at home in the stratosphere, almost ethereal. Some of the music here could be filed under “lullabies,” were it not for the recurring, almost brooding feeling that engulfs the listener on the aforementioned tracks. You could easily be forgiven for drifting into a blissful haze as the music washes over you.
Up to the advent of electronic music production, Ethiopia was totally dominated by big bands on the one hand, and small groups on the other. The former were tied to large institutions such as the military, the latter emerged from the entertainment industry, in hotel bars and nightclubs. These groups were commercially driven, and bands ultimately had to foster a mercenary approach to employment, albeit not to the passion for music. In the light of this, Teodros’ musical legacy can be seen in two ways. On the one hand, he is a key player in Ethiopian music from the 1970s onwards, leaving an indelible mark through hundreds of compositions and arrangements, including soundtracks for numerous documentary films and advertisements for different companies. On the other hand, the way he and others employed electronics brought Ethiopian music onto a fork in the road.
The replacement of traditional instruments with electronic equipment was seen as impending doom by some. Others, like Teodros, saw new avenues for performance, production, and creativity. Just as later producers like Abegasu Shiota of Admas, Teodros was a trailblazer who opened paths that it took Ethiopian music as a whole more than a decade to rush into. The hotel scene had already been pushed toward electronic music by financial necessity and cost-cutting. Today’s revived global interest in Ethiopian music from the seventies and eighties, alongside a broader resurgence, has changed the reasons for using digital means of music production. They have become tools for musical dreaming. This is where the dreaming began.
Channeling his honed sample craft towards the ominous portent of modern times, Romare returns with his fifth album Oblivion, with the previous 3 out of 4 LP's appearing on Ninja Tune. Across a suite of downtempo, broken beat, bubbling grooves and brooding reveries Archie Fairhurst threads a narrative that wrestles with the big questions of the present moment — the tipping points of the planet and technology, the fight for social justice and the power structures that govern our existence. While his trademark source material continues to cast a long line back through recorded history, this is Romare at his most contextual.
Nothing is placed by accident. 'Machines' hums its throbbing 4/4 pulse along to a German language recital of Johann Wolfgang von Goethe's 'Blessed Longing' — an enduring reflection on the human condition that rings true from way back in the 19th Century when it was written. 'Computer Love' slinks into a sumptuous trip-hop lull laced with sci-fi flourishes sculpted from samples of old computer documentaries — a bittersweet romantic backdrop to our complicated situationship with the devices in our lives. 'Take Us' goes one step further on its hard-stepping boom-bap strut as a subtle tale of possession by screens unfolds around Romare's signature strain of technicolour mutant funk.
There is space for optimism in the message on Oblivion as well — the strength of the suffragettes as a benchmark for social justice and activism amidst the speakeasy slink of ‘Deeds, Not Words', and spring-loaded acid house joint 'Change' pointing to the need for positive action in the face of imminent calamity.
The artwork for the album follows Fairhurst's thought process, drawing on Edvard Munch's iconic 'The Scream' along with Philippe Halsman and Salvador Dali’s ‘Voluptuous Death’ to help render the ideas of the album visually.
The wild ride of Oblivion races towards a final beguiling opiate on 'The Last Lullaby' — the perfect sedative after the rush of information and emotion that comes with a full-length trip through Romare's vivid, uniquely creative world of sound.
Initially recorded in 1996 and officially released February 1997, 2nd Family's Killaz from the Blackside tape is one of the most distinctive examples of unpolished, stripped-back & paranoid mid-90s Memphis rap. Recorded by King JC together with 2nd Family MCs Pistol Grip & Killa Chrome in a home-studio set up at the group's base in Southern Hills Apartments in Whitehaven, South Memphis (known locally as Blackhaven or the Blackside, a short trip from Graceland) the sparse, brooding and somewhat introspective production sets the record apart from the more raucous, overdriven precedent of the period. Pressed on vinyl for the first time via Death Is Not The End in an edition of 300 copies.
Helene Rikhard had remained a hidden gem in the Norwegian electronic music underground for years, before she fully emerged on the international scene with these two critically acclaimed albums. Her sound is an ingenious mix of psychedelic disco, 80’s wave music, techno, krautrock, ambient and it truly operates in a world of its own. Drawing inspiration from the cosmic disco of Daniele Baldelli, the jazzy depths of Detroit techno and the esoteric dreamscapes of Laraaji, it’s astral music for astral people! Psychedelic to the core, but also warm, adventurous and highly original.
Her debut album Unpredictable Express is a dark, brooding masterpiece combining elements of cosmic disco, electro and techno Everlasting High serves as a beautiful, atmospheric counterpoint to its moody and mysterious predecessor, Feeling like a blissed out, hazy summer day, echoing childhood memories from Helenes youth, in the beautiful southern part of Norway. Everlasting High also sees Helene’s vocals coming more to the front. Mad Girl and Lions Eye are both beautiful, dubbed out synth pop with traces of 80’s synth, shoegaze, and reveals a fine-tuned pop sensibility, with a vocal style that’s sits somewhere between Kate Bush, Enya and Fever Ray.
Both as a producer and DJ, Helene’s style is easily recognized for her bold, genre-blending approach to electronic music. Mixing elements of ambient, techno, and experimental sounds, creating immersive, intricate and psychedelic tracks. Her DJ sets work the same way, blending Italo, High Energy and synth nuggets, effortlessly with strange, modern club sounds.
Portuguese experimental musician António Feiteira returns to Perf with Amuleto Apotropaico’s sophomore album. Língua Espúria (Spurious Tongue) withdraws from the guitar-and-drums interplay that anchored the self-titled debut, moving toward fully electronic arrangements of concrète mechanics. What was once shaped through shared physical gesture now condenses into a singular current: a hermetic pulse carving its own labyrinth through the pandemonium.
The album draws inspiration from Milford Graves's visionary mapping of the body's secret rhythms into function generators. Amuleto Apotropaico has engineered a system that emulates Feiteira's own improvisational drumming language such that muscle memory becomes stochastic digital precision.
Língua Espúria opens with 'Abafador'. A track relishing in burnt afterimages as it patiently leads the listener into Amuleto Apotropaico’s new sound world. Its insistent double-tapped rhythm splinters into four cascading versions of itself, a pulse folding & refolding until it becomes its own perforated haze.
'Carpideira' follows as an algorithmic lamentation set in motion by shimmering temporal reversals: motion-captures of cyclic grief. The track persistently builds until only a few pure tones remainder.
The album's most pared-down moment is 'Espinha de Vidro'. It is the clearest statement of the system underlying Língua Espúria. Here, Feiteira's rhythmic concern is laid bare, every detail exposed in a distilled form, its melodic thread emerging with equal exactness.
'Apotropia III' begins as a subtle hinge in the catalogue, its brutalist‑liturgical atmosphere recast in a divined, techgnostic register. A narrative, gestural drift threads through the piece that connects it to Feiteira’s 'Killswitch Counterpoint', which appeared on his Eastern Nurseries release Performing the Heimlich on an Ouroboros. Shared samples cross-feed his parallel projects, letting them momentarily run on the same signal path. Stuttering percussion, flickers of glitched air & a brooding bass melodic line fill out the margins before the track finally shears off into harsh, serrated noise.
¡NO PASARAN! is the extension to Extrawelt's DYSTORTION, from brooding tension to playful relief, the album took listeners on a six-year-crafted exploration. Their next EP picks up where this epic chapter left off and is clearly related. It's a hypnotic dive into shadow and dream, darkness and melancholy with subtle flashes of light.
The title track of the EP, already known from the album (D1 - Extrawelt - ¡No Pasaran!) carries a commanding presence, pulses with a rolling, insistent bassline that anchors shifting rhythmic currents and evolving sonic layers. Between tension and release, shadows and melody, it's a track that moves like a living entity.
Arctic Dead Run hits like a surge of raw energy. Acid lines roll relentlessly, building tension that feels alive. Then a melody sneaks in - soft, almost fragile - cutting through the intensity, until hi-hats erupt and the groove snaps into full focus. Maximal yet controlled, every element finds its place.
Clipping Me Softly dissolves the pressure with a dark, playful groove. Precise rhythms meet spacious pads, opening into a dreamlike state where night slowly gives way to warmth and light.
A focused and uncompromising continuation of Extrawelt's sonic language: Dense grooves, acid pressure, and dreamlike relief collide in a release built for deep listening and late-night floors.
Luis Reich and Max Wurden's Reverence traverses superb ambient and electroacoustic territory with sustained tones, radio interference, fragmented speech and plenty of harmonies that shift almost imperceptibly. 'Sono' opens wide with drones meeting distant brass, before 'Lens' marries brooding bass pulses with floating brass top notes that pass by like half-remembered thoughts. The title track strips everything back to a sparse, suspended core and 'Horfunk' brings damaged broadcast noise to a textured soundscape. 'Studio Blue' closes out slowly and patiently with plenty of sonic decay. A subtly dramatic record.
Berlin-based Dutch-Italian composer and musician Aimée Portioli aka Grand River presents the new album Temporary, returning to the renowned Editions Mego label with her most expansive and focused LP yet.
Rooted in existential ideas of impermanence and flux, Temporary is a deeply emotive work centred on the rich interplay between resonant guitar work and innovative electronics. Written in the wake of profound personal grief and loss, the album sees Portioli infuse her music with a raw, expressive intensity anchored in this experience. Across eight strikingly melodic and affecting soundscapes, Portioli powerfully embodies a dramatic encounter with mortality.
Temporary reprises Portioli’s exceptional streak of material across acclaimed labels including Donato Dozzy and Neel’s Spazio Disponibile, Caterina Barbieri's light-years, Ghostly International, Tresor and Umor Rex. The LP represents the latest tour de force in her distinctive electronic practice. Alongside a raft of lauded releases, Portioli has devised visionary multichannel installations which dissolve the boundary between the art gallery and the performance space.
Her new album signifies a culmination of her work, imbued with the depth of Portioli’s artistry. Shaped by a paradigm shift rising from loss, the record reflects a contemplation of the human condition and the ephemeral nature of existence. Ruminating on the thoughts and experiences that have fed into the record, Portioli reveals a consequential recognition underpinning the record:
"Sometimes, when travelling in places far from home that I know I will most likely never return to, or while accompanying someone I loved towards the end of their life, I become intensely aware of the singularity of the moment, and of how precious and sad this feels at the same time. It carries a particular weight because it will never happen again in quite the same way. Through experiences like these, I have gradually come to understand the temporary nature of all things. They taught me that to live is to experience the present while already feeling the trace of its disappearance, something both painful and blissful." - Aimée Portioli, Grand River
The album is invested with a potent mood and momentum from the outset. Establishing an evocative tone with the subtle, pulsating synthesis, rustling undertow, and oceanic low end of 18 circles to heaven, Portioli gradually ascends through the incandescent modular majesty of Come to stay, and the turbulent, brooding guitar figures of The crossing of the body, the crossing of the mind. The album progresses through the rapturous electronic phasing of The little we last into the coruscating synth grandeur of Let me know when you’re pure, before a thrilling endgame.
Closing with the wavering harp runs, heavy percussive thud, and cataclysmic guitar discordance of Maybe I am dead and this is paradise, and the evanescent atmospherics and beautiful acoustic refrains of Work of ending, Portioli takes the listener through vast landscapes of sound and mercurial emotional states. Intimate and immersive in equal measure, the record traces a compelling sensory journey.
Each part of the album is part of a larger poetic sentence, with track titles forming fragments that together articulate a meditation on transience. From 18 circles to heaven and Come to stay through From the other side and Work of ending, they read like quiet statements about being human, about loving, losing, remembering and eventually fading. The record moves through these states as a continuous passage, depicting a poignant soundworld guided by temporality.
The awareness that our time is limited sharpens the value of what remains. Each encounter, each gesture, each fleeting moment becomes more vivid. Temporary lingers in the space where presence and disappearance coexist, where everything is already passing away and therefore becomes infinitely precious. Things matter because they do not last. Mortality does not diminish life; it intensifies it. In confronting these ideas, Temporary feels irrepressibly alive.
Composed, produced and mixed by Aimée Portioli
Production and mixing assistance by Luca Sammartin
Acoustic piano on Maybe I am dead and this is paradise by Andert Tysma
Mastered by Rashad Becker
Cut by Marta De Pascalis at Schnittstelle, Berlin
Artwork by Nicola Tirabasso
Layout by Riccardo Piovesan
