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There’s a lot for MAYDAY PARADE to celebrate these days. The T allahassee, Florida-formed quintet recently
wrapped a career-defining tour marking two decades together, one that saw more than 70,000 fans pack sold-out venues to celebrate their storied catalog. They performed a triumphant main-stage set at the 30th anniversary of the V ans W arped T our, a full-circle moment for a band that made their name selling self-released CDs in those same sweltering parking lots nearly 20 years ago. Their landmark debut LP, A Lesson In Romantics, turned 18, still beloved for its iconic singles like the platinum-certified “Jamie All Over” and gold-certified “Miserable At Best.” And the group released Sweet, the first in a self-released three-album series that reaffirmed just how vital and creatively energized Mayday Parade still remains. Now, on Sad, the second installment in that trilogy, the band continue diving deeper into the emotional nuance that’s defined their most captivating albums, blending aching sentimentality with melodic urgency as only they can. Once again produced by longtime collaborators Zack Odom and Kenneth Mount, Sad sees Mayday Parade stripping back some of the tempo that colored Sweet in favor of more deliberate grooves, more introspection, and a sharpened focus on mood and space.

Black Ice Vinyl. On her debut album One Sided, 20 year-old Georga-native Sydney Rose wrestles with growth: growing up, growing apart, growing within. While the singer/songwriter’s 2022 EPs You Never Met Me and This Kind of Thing Doesn’t Last showcased intimate lyricism with the help of understated synths, muted drum machines, and stacked harmonies, One Sided returns to her stripped-back roots, offering tenderhearted meditations on childhood, love, and the evolution of friendship, with a guitar in hand. After Feb 2025 single, We Hug Now, had huge viral success, Syndey Rose has sold out shows all over the US, UK, and Europe.

A Milan-born multi-instrumentalist of Venetian heritage, Alberto Baldan Bembo was a gifted vibraphonist, organist, pianist, arranger, and composer whose work bridged jazz, pop, and film music. By the early 1960s, he was performing with Italy’s leading ensembles, including I Menestrelli del Jazz and Bruno De Filippi’s group, and soon became an in-demand session musician. For several years, he toured with the legendary Mina, providing the piano and organ backbone to her live shows—a role that sharpened the cinematic sensibility and refined musicianship that would later define his soundtrack work. In the years to come, he would be celebrated for his scores to films such as L’Amica Di Mia Madre (1975) and Lingua Argento (1976), earning a place alongside Piero Umiliani, Alessandro Alessandroni, Berto Pisano, and other luminaries of Italy’s golden age of soundtrack and library music.

Io E Mara is the soundtrack to a film that was never made. Originally released on the CGD label in 1969, this debut album from the brilliant Maestro Baldan Bembo is a sophisticated concept-album tracing 24 hours in the life of two young lovers. Told entirely through music, the record unfolds as a continuous suite of ten tracks, where cinematic lounge, bossa, and jazz flavors mingle to create a dreamlike atmosphere. Baldan Bembo’s signature piano and organ are masterfully complemented by Mara’s ethereal vocals, while immersive soundscapes of crashing waves, seagulls, and rain showers enhance the feeling of a deeply personal and intimate journey. A cast of exceptional musicians brings this vision to life, including Bruno De Filippi on electric guitar and sitar, Carlo Milano on electric bass, Rolando Ceragioli on drums, and Pasquale Liguori on sound effects. This singular work not only showcases the burgeoning talent of a future soundtrack master but also features the original pop art front cover by Italian cult illustrator Guido Crepax.

END[GER] Die Band Wednesday aus Asheville, North Carolina errichtet im Laufe der zehn Songs von "Rat Saw God" einen Schrein voller aufregender Details: Halb lustige, halb tragische Botschaften aus den Südstaaten, die sich klanglich irgendwo zwischen dem wimmernden Skuzz von Neunzigerjahre-Shoegaze und klassischem Country-Twang entfalten - mit verzerrter Pedal Steel und Frontfrau Karly Hartzman, die mit ihrer Stimme, den Lärm durchschneidet. Ein Song von Wednesday ist wie ein Quilt. Eine Kurzgeschichtensammlung, eine verschwommene Erinnerung, ein Flickenteppich aus Porträts des amerikanischen Südens, der disparate Momente einfängt und als Ganzes doch irgendwie einen Sinn ergibt. Karly Hartzman, die Songschreiberin, Sängerin, Gitarristin und Leiterin der Band, ist eine Geschichtensammlerin als auch eine Geschichtenerzählerin: Eine aufmerksame Beobachterin von Menschen und witzigen Bemerkungen. "Rat Saw God", das neue und beste Album des Quintetts aus Asheville, ist ekphrastisch, aber ebenso autobiografisch und vor allem sehr einfühlsam. Es wurde in den Monaten unmittelbar nach der Fertigstellung von dem zweiten Album der Band, "Twin Plagues", geschrieben und innerhalb einer Woche im Drop Of Sun Studio in Asheville aufgenommen. Die Songs auf "Rat Saw God" erzählen keine Epen, sondern das Alltägliche. Sie sind lebensnah, erzählen vom wahren Leben, sie sind verschwommen und chaotisch und seltsam zugleich - was Hartzmans eigenem Ethos entspricht: "Everyone's story is worthy. Literally every life story is worth writing down, because people are so fascinating." A Wednesday song is a quilt. A short story collection, a half-memory, a patchwork of portraits of the American south, disparate moments that somehow make sense as a whole. Karly Hartzman, the songwriter/ vocalist/guitarist at the helm of the project, is a story collector as much as she is a storyteller: a scholar of people and one-liners. Rat Saw God, the Asheville quintet's new and best record, is ekphrastic but autobiographical and above all, deeply empathetic. Across the album's ten tracks Hartzman, guitarist MJ Lenderman, bassist Margo Shultz, drummer Alan Miller, and lap/pedal steel player Xandy Chelmis build a shrine to minutiae. Half-funny, half-tragic dispatches from North Carolina unfurling somewhere between the wailing skuzz of Nineties shoegaze and classic country twang, that distorted lap steel and Hartzman's voice slicing through the din. Rat Saw God is an album about riding a bike down a suburban stretch in Greensboro while listening to My Bloody Valentine for the first time on an iPod Nano, past a creek that runs through the neighborhood riddled with broken glass bottles and condoms, a front yard filled with broken and rusted car parts, a lonely and dilapidated house reclaimed by kudzu. Four Lokos and rodeo clowns and a kid who burns down a corn field. Roadside monuments, church marquees, poppers and vodka in a plastic water bottle, the shit you get away with at Jewish summer camp, strange sentimental family heirlooms at the thrift stores. The way the South hums alive all night in the summers and into fall, the sound of high school football games, the halo effect from the lights polluting the darkness. It's not really bright enough to see in front of you, but in that stretch of inky void - somehow - you see everything. The songs on Rat Saw God don't recount epics, just the everyday. They're true, they're real life, blurry and chaotic and strange - which is in-line with Hartzman's own ethos: "Everyone's story is worthy," she says, plainly. "Literally every life story is worth writing down, because people are so fascinating." But the thing about Rat Saw God - and about any Wednesday song, really - is you don't necessarily even need all the references to get it, the weirdly specific elation of a song that really hits. Yeah, it's all in the details - how fucked up you got or get, how you break a heart, how you fall in love, how you make yourself and others feel seen - but it's mostly the way those tiny moments add up into a song or album or a person.

"Pop" is a tag that's been assigned to Minus The Bear throughout their career. It's been used to set a distinction between the unique brand of complex indie rock they introduced on their first EP and the more angular and aggravated sounds of their previous bands Botch, Kill Sadie, and Sharks Keep Moving. It's also a tag that was thrown around frequently in the wake of their streamlined fourth album, OMNI. And it's a descriptor that immediately comes to mind within the first few seconds of their classic second formal EP, They Make Beer Commercials Like This. Now celebrating its 10-year anniversary and first time in print since 2011, Beer Commercials is the evolutionary step between Minus The Bear's first two landmark albums, Highly Refined Pirates and Menos El Oso. Opening track "Fine + 2 Points" remains one of the band's strongest opening tracks in their discography,charging out of the gates with a syncopated stomp that comes across as a more agitated take on Kylie Minogue's "Can't Get You Outta My Head". If Minus The Bear were looking to make pop music without any of its major-scale bubblegum trappings, they nailed it here. The band follows it with "Let's Play Clowns" and "Dog Park" - nods to Highly Refined Pirates' formula of frenetic clean guitar work, bombastic choruses, and Jake Snider's lyrics of detached romantic nostalgia. These tracks may represent Minus The Bear's original trademark version of pop, but on songs like "I'm Totally Not Down With Rob's Alien" the band eschews it's restless energy for atmosphere and dynamics, creating a sound that's inspired more than a handful of contemporary melodic post-rock bands. By the time the band belts out "Pony Up!" the listener has watched the three-year sonic transition between Minus The Bear's first two full-lengths transpire within under half-an-hour, with the their earlier math rock predilections yielding to the tightly wound club-banging pedalboard trickery that defined their sophomore album. Even if Beer Commercials doesn't fit within your definition of pop music, the unorthodox energetic charm of this relatively low-profile release serves as an exciting reminder of why Minus The Bear became one of the most important and influential indie rock bands of the new century.

Mitreißende kubanische Rhythmen treffen auf zeitlose Weihnachtsklassiker
„Cuban Christmas ist ein Fest der Kulturen, des Miteinanders und der Musik, die die Weihnachtszeit so
magisch machen“, sagt Sarah Willis, Hornistin der Berliner Philharmoniker. Gemeinsam mit ihrem kubanischen Ensemble, der Sarahbanda, lädt sie mit diesem Album zu einem ganz besonderen Weihnachtsfest ein!
Die farbenfrohe, mitreißende Energie der kubanischen Musik trifft dabei auf zeitlose Weihnachtsklassiker
wie We wish you a Merry Christmas, Feliz Navidad u.a. - einige davon mit Gesang von Carlos Calunga,
bekannt durch den legendären Buena Vista Social Club. Zu hören ist ein fröhlicher Mix aus Klassikern
wie Jingle Bells und Stille Nacht, alle durchdrungen vom unwiderstehlichen Groove von Salsa, Mambo,
Bolero und Son. Auch Tchaikowskys Nussknacker-Suite und Bachs Brandenburgisches Konzert Nr. 3
erklingen voller kubanischem Flair. Ein beschwingtes Weihnachtsfest mit Tanz um den Weihnachtsbaum
ist garantiert!

Welcome to Pfefferkorn: a countryside studio hidden inside a former 1950s café. The stylish interior stayed, the cake display is gone, but the mountain panorama is still very much in place. Out of this unlikely combination came Obsolescence, Feater's new album and a record that wasn't supposed to happen, but insisted on doing so anyway.

Originally, Pfefferkorn hosted a merry-go-round of guests and genres: jazz, kraut, pop, experiments, even the occasional field recording. Among the many, Mara Oldofredi aka Mietze Conte became the most frequent and inspiring visitor. Their sessions set sparks, and one of them, "Trio," landed directly on the album.
The method? Call it instant archaeology: live jams on two-track tape, then pushed through edits, resampling, Fairlight IIX sorcery, and endless tape-laptop relays. Quick, raw, and without too much overthinking, more sketch than sculpture, more instinct than intent.
The result is Obsolescence, a record born out of detours, made for personal delight, and proof that side products can be main courses if you let them.

Emerging from the house scene of the 2000s with his label Place Blanche, Greg Kozo has been a bartender in naughty bars, music director at Galeries Lafayette, bassist in funk bands, and legendary producer and DJ with his former band Make The Girl Dance. Far from settling down, he returns to the arena with a sharp sound. Several catchy tracks such as "Reviens" and "After" are sultry and subversive electro-pop songs, reminiscent of the sensuality of French Touch House or 80s Synth Pop. These tracks are performed by La Montespan, a mysterious creature and poetess of carnal desires, who gives them a gently erotic tone. In the dead of night, "Flamingos," "The Room," "Who Take Me Higher," and "Club Melancholia" take us to the depths of Paris' hottest clubs, where the beats pound like bodies on fire. "Magnolia" feat. Coeur (from the punk-rock band Schlasss) is a return to raw electro-rock, like a total experience of letting go. Finally, to climb the stairs out of the club, "Amour Fou" and "Turbulences" are hymns celebrating pure love in a couple who have weathered all the dangers of the nighttogether.

Die verschollenen Originalaufnahmen des zweiten Cradle Of Filth-Albums erblicken endlich das Tageslicht! Aufgenommen 1995 im Original Line Up, welches auch das wegweisende Debüt »The Principle of Evil Made Flesh« einspielte, wurde diese Version aufgrund von Besetzungswechseln vor Veröffentlichung zurückgezogen.

Das neue Band-Lineup spielte dann das Album erneut ein, welches offiziell released wurde. Nun endlich nach 21 Jahren erscheinen die Original Aufnahmen plus zwei Bonustracks auf dem wiederbelebten britischen Extreme Metal Label Cacophonous.

»The Original Sin« bietet rohen, ungezähmten britischen Underground-Black Metal in seiner Urform.

Die verschollenen Originalaufnahmen des zweiten Cradle Of Filth-Albums erblicken endlich das Tageslicht! Aufgenommen 1995 im Original Line Up, welches auch das wegweisende Debüt »The Principle of Evil Made Flesh« einspielte, wurde diese Version aufgrund von Besetzungswechseln vor Veröffentlichung zurückgezogen.

Das neue Band-Lineup spielte dann das Album erneut ein, welches offiziell released wurde. Nun endlich nach 21 Jahren erscheinen die Original Aufnahmen plus zwei Bonustracks auf dem wiederbelebten britischen Extreme Metal Label Cacophonous.

»The Original Sin« bietet rohen, ungezähmten britischen Underground-Black Metal in seiner Urform.

Die verschollenen Originalaufnahmen des zweiten Cradle Of Filth-Albums erblicken endlich das Tageslicht! Aufgenommen 1995 im Original Line Up, welches auch das wegweisende Debüt »The Principle of Evil Made Flesh« einspielte, wurde diese Version aufgrund von Besetzungswechseln vor Veröffentlichung zurückgezogen.

Das neue Band-Lineup spielte dann das Album erneut ein, welches offiziell released wurde. Nun endlich nach 21 Jahren erscheinen die Original Aufnahmen plus zwei Bonustracks auf dem wiederbelebten britischen Extreme Metal Label Cacophonous.

»The Original Sin« bietet rohen, ungezähmten britischen Underground-Black Metal in seiner Urform.

Ostinato as resistance: Rafael Anton Irisarri’s landmark work reimagined. Marking the tenth anniversary of the American composer’s critically acclaimed album 'A Fragile Geography', this new edition arrives renewed, both sonically and visually.

First released in 2015 (Room40) during a period of personal upheaval and creative reinvention, it endures as a testament to resilience, transformation, and the connection we hold with the places that shape us.

Written in the aftermath of a devastating theft, A Fragile Geography was born out of loss. Just days before a cross-country move to New York, Irisarri’s entire Seattle-based studio was wiped out. Instruments. Recordings. Archives. Gone without a trace. He arrived on the East Coast to an empty room and the daunting task of starting over.

“This album wasn’t just a record; it was a lifeline,” Irisarri reflects. “It became a way to process the emotional chaos that followed: uprooting, instability, and ultimately, the slow, intuitive rebuilding of a life.”

Composed and recorded in the rural woods of the Hudson Valley, the album took shape in seclusion, surrounded by nature, and through a process guided by improvisation. Embracing limitations, Irisarri wove textural layers of field recordings with half-remembered melodies from his Seattle years, piecing them together like fragments of memory. Tracks like “Displacement,” “Hiatus,” and “Persistence” juxtaposed haunting stillness with restless momentum, mapping an inner terrain of grief, catharsis, and rebirth.

Among its defining sounds is “Empire Systems,” a monumental centerpiece built around a simple four-chord progression, organ textures, and guitar drones. Gradually, the track expands into layers of immersive loops and thick, enveloping distortion that wash over the listener like a rolling wave. Often cited as the album’s most majestic passage, it captures Irisarri at his most sonically ambitious. With a harmonically saturated structure crafted from restraint and repetition, it remains one of his most recognizable compositions: an exercise in the art of maximal minimalism.

From the outset, “Reprisal” received praise from BBC’s Mary Anne Hobbs, who championed the track on her radio show. Her support played a key role in introducing Irisarri’s work to wider audiences and solidifying his place within the lineage of electronic, drone, and experimental sound artists. A slow-burning elegy, the piece emerges from a haze of distortion and sub-bass, with dense, unrelenting drones carrying a sense of mounting tension. Just as it seems to collapse under its own weight, flickers of guitar emerge like distant light through fog. It’s a meditation on dissonance, resolve, and the elusive possibility of release.

The closing track, “Secretly Wishing for Rain,” is steeped in saudade: a longing for Seattle’s dour grey skies, lush green landscapes, and desaturated sunsets. Through it, Irisarri mourns a vanished chapter of life bound to the city, a time documented in scattered mementos and cherished collections, now permanently gone. A reflection on what could never be recovered: an era lost to time. Julia Kent’s looped cello motifs added a melancholic warmth to the track, marking the first collaboration between the two artists and sparking a musical dialogue that would keep growing in the years that followed.

More than a career highlight, A Fragile Geography has laid the foundation for Black Knoll studio, which Irisarri rebuilt from the ground up. The studio has since grown into a creative hub for countless projects, with Irisarri engineering records for iconic music figures like Terry Riley, Ryuichi Sakamoto, William Basinski, MONO, Devendra Banhart, Grouper, Emeralds, Steve Hauschildt, Julianna Barwick, and many others. Carried by its lasting influence, the album has quietly captured the ear of a younger generation, its sound and emotional arc finding new listeners in unexpected corners.

The album’s new visual language was reimagined in collaboration with Mexico City–based designer Daniel Castrejón. Irisarri captured ghostly images at Gaztelugatxeko Doniene, a historic coastal site in Bermeo, Euskal Herria. Castrejón then treated the photographs with distressed textures and spectral overlays. The final artwork channels the rugged, elemental forces that shaped both the music and Irisarri’s aesthetic, renewing his ties to ancestral ground inspired by the Basque homeland of his bloodline.

Mastered by Stephan Mathieu with exceptional attention to detail, this anniversary edition uncovers every nuance in the sound design, enhancing clarity and presence. With each listen, new elements emerge, inviting discovery and reconnection.

“I don’t experience this album as a document of grief anymore,” says Irisarri. “I hear adaptation and I'm reminded that when everything falls apart, something meaningful, maybe even beautiful, can emerge.”

Ostinato as resistance: Rafael Anton Irisarri’s landmark work reimagined. Marking the tenth anniversary of the American composer’s critically acclaimed album 'A Fragile Geography', this new edition arrives renewed, both sonically and visually.

First released in 2015 (Room40) during a period of personal upheaval and creative reinvention, it endures as a testament to resilience, transformation, and the connection we hold with the places that shape us.

Written in the aftermath of a devastating theft, A Fragile Geography was born out of loss. Just days before a cross-country move to New York, Irisarri’s entire Seattle-based studio was wiped out. Instruments. Recordings. Archives. Gone without a trace. He arrived on the East Coast to an empty room and the daunting task of starting over.

“This album wasn’t just a record; it was a lifeline,” Irisarri reflects. “It became a way to process the emotional chaos that followed: uprooting, instability, and ultimately, the slow, intuitive rebuilding of a life.”

Composed and recorded in the rural woods of the Hudson Valley, the album took shape in seclusion, surrounded by nature, and through a process guided by improvisation. Embracing limitations, Irisarri wove textural layers of field recordings with half-remembered melodies from his Seattle years, piecing them together like fragments of memory. Tracks like “Displacement,” “Hiatus,” and “Persistence” juxtaposed haunting stillness with restless momentum, mapping an inner terrain of grief, catharsis, and rebirth.

Among its defining sounds is “Empire Systems,” a monumental centerpiece built around a simple four-chord progression, organ textures, and guitar drones. Gradually, the track expands into layers of immersive loops and thick, enveloping distortion that wash over the listener like a rolling wave. Often cited as the album’s most majestic passage, it captures Irisarri at his most sonically ambitious. With a harmonically saturated structure crafted from restraint and repetition, it remains one of his most recognizable compositions: an exercise in the art of maximal minimalism.

From the outset, “Reprisal” received praise from BBC’s Mary Anne Hobbs, who championed the track on her radio show. Her support played a key role in introducing Irisarri’s work to wider audiences and solidifying his place within the lineage of electronic, drone, and experimental sound artists. A slow-burning elegy, the piece emerges from a haze of distortion and sub-bass, with dense, unrelenting drones carrying a sense of mounting tension. Just as it seems to collapse under its own weight, flickers of guitar emerge like distant light through fog. It’s a meditation on dissonance, resolve, and the elusive possibility of release.

The closing track, “Secretly Wishing for Rain,” is steeped in saudade: a longing for Seattle’s dour grey skies, lush green landscapes, and desaturated sunsets. Through it, Irisarri mourns a vanished chapter of life bound to the city, a time documented in scattered mementos and cherished collections, now permanently gone. A reflection on what could never be recovered: an era lost to time. Julia Kent’s looped cello motifs added a melancholic warmth to the track, marking the first collaboration between the two artists and sparking a musical dialogue that would keep growing in the years that followed.

More than a career highlight, A Fragile Geography has laid the foundation for Black Knoll studio, which Irisarri rebuilt from the ground up. The studio has since grown into a creative hub for countless projects, with Irisarri engineering records for iconic music figures like Terry Riley, Ryuichi Sakamoto, William Basinski, MONO, Devendra Banhart, Grouper, Emeralds, Steve Hauschildt, Julianna Barwick, and many others. Carried by its lasting influence, the album has quietly captured the ear of a younger generation, its sound and emotional arc finding new listeners in unexpected corners.

The album’s new visual language was reimagined in collaboration with Mexico City–based designer Daniel Castrejón. Irisarri captured ghostly images at Gaztelugatxeko Doniene, a historic coastal site in Bermeo, Euskal Herria. Castrejón then treated the photographs with distressed textures and spectral overlays. The final artwork channels the rugged, elemental forces that shaped both the music and Irisarri’s aesthetic, renewing his ties to ancestral ground inspired by the Basque homeland of his bloodline.

Mastered by Stephan Mathieu with exceptional attention to detail, this anniversary edition uncovers every nuance in the sound design, enhancing clarity and presence. With each listen, new elements emerge, inviting discovery and reconnection.

“I don’t experience this album as a document of grief anymore,” says Irisarri. “I hear adaptation and I'm reminded that when everything falls apart, something meaningful, maybe even beautiful, can emerge.”

Berlin musician and DJ Nastia Reigel presents her debut solo album, Identity, on Function's legendary Infrastructure New York imprint. Following a constant output of EPs on heavy-hitting techno labels like fabric, Rodhad's WSNWG and Token, and playing regularly at the likes of Berghain, Reigel now returns with new music that pushes deep into the core of her craft. She has honed and sharpened her sound into something sleeker and more uninhibited. Identity embodies the core of Nastia's production DNA, showcasing her as a powerful and precise engineer. These eight new tracks, mixed by herself, all offer something distinct and carry her unmistakable signature. Much like human identity itself, the album explores contrasting layers of tension, groove and mood, oscillating from hypnotic rollers to peak time intensity with ease. It is both a personal artistic statement and a DJ-ready techno toolkit for fans of Function and Sandwell District.

Living in the present is an album built around the work of American minimalist poet, Robert Lax (1915-2000) who is widely praised for his artistic concept of reduction, in which a pause becomes as important as the things said.

The album brings together the sound of Robert Lax reading his poetry, narrative field recordings by Nicolas Humbert and subtle yet imaginative timbres by Carina Khorkhordina (trumpet) and Miki Yui (electronics) who is also behind the final mixing of the album.

Living in the present is drawing from an archive of audio recordings originally made by film maker Nicolas Humbert while shooting a film on Robert Lax entitled Why Should I Buy A Bed When All That I Want Is Sleep?, ( Nicolas Humbert and Werner Penzel, Germany, 1999) The film was made on the Greek island of Patmos where Lax has lived withdrawn for 3 decades.

More than 25 years after the premiere of Why Should I Buy A Bed When All That I Want Is Sleep?, Humbert, Khorkhordina and Yui are revisiting the original audio material and patiently open worlds within worlds, pointing to new harmonic textures and isolating timbres, synchronizing different layers of time and traces of various locations into a new composition in its own right.

In some ways this album feels like an expansion of the work Humbert and Penzel did with Lax across six years, between 1993 and 1999, where they developed a unique intimacy in their textual-visual collaboration. On two long pieces, for each side of the album, “Where do i begin” and “One moment passes, another comes on” respectively – Yui’s electronics and Khorkhordina’s trumpet interweave beautifully with Humbert’s field recordings, in a manner that shadows the reflective reduction of Lax’s poetry. Indeed, it's no surprise that Lax’s poetry draws musicians into its orbit; it offers the curious a welcoming reduction in which only individual words and syllables represent the essence of language.

Lax’s poetry is notable for its qualities of near-stillness and its capacity to pause the reader’s thought, asking them to hold the sensuality of language for an extended, quietly revelatory moment. His readings on this album share a similar cadence, interested in settling with syllables, with single or several words, for an extended time.

Ultimately, Living in the present unfolds with unforced grace and poetics – one moment passes, then another comes on. (Jon Dale)

Off The Record (faitiche 39), the new album by French collagist Roméo Poirier, is an amusing romp through the discarded history of recording studios. It contains fourteen miniatures based on accidental recordings of studio talk, revealing things that were never meant for the public: we hear instructions from studio staff, scraps of talk between musicians, or just microphones being adjusted, as well as false notes, false starts: everyone stops. Start again: 1, 2, 3, 4!

Poirier’s approach recalls Accumulation, an artform practiced by Arman, Jean Tinguely and Daniel Spoerri that involved piling up everyday items into assemblages. The objects themselves often remained unaltered, the artistic gesture consisting in the careful curating of a distinctive selection. Poirier’s audio collages explore similar terrain. The fourteen pieces on Off the Record combine more than a thousand found sounds from studio archives into complex miniatures. The audio content of these outtakes is twisted, stretched, cut, reassembled, slowed down and accelerated. Voices cut into a microgroove, from a very old recording, intertwine with digital voices gleaned from YouTube. All of them in dialogue, engaging the listener with the impression of being part of a new music group.

Poirier uses the mundane routine of setting up before the actual recording gets underway to tell a universal story about working in a recording studio. And he manages something few achieve, transforming specialist knowledge into a narrative whose beauty goes far beyond its immediate subject. It speaks to everyone, because the story is told in a musical language that is open and accessible, evoking magical images reminiscent of Oz – a world consisting less of events than of camp hallucinations, captured in grainy black-and-white photographs. En passant, Poirier shows us how the notion of material accumulation can produce great art.

Written and produced by Roméo Poirier, mastered by Stephan Mathieu, photos by Roméo Poirier, graphic design by Tim Tetzner.

Deux Filles were Simon Fisher Turner, former child star/teen idol and future soundtrack composer, and songwriter/technician Colin Lloyd Tucker. Turner and Tucker left an early incarnation of The The in 1981 to pursue a different musical direction.

Turner claims that the idea of Deux Filles came to him in a dream, and the novel fiction/roleplay would be strictly maintained throughout the girls' short career. As well as posing in costume for the album covers, the duo even performed live without the audience realizing that the girls on-stage were actually a pair of blokes from south London having a giggle.

Deux Filles released two highly collectable albums: Silence & Wisdom (1982) and Double Happiness (1983)