Suche:chatter b

Swiss percussionist Julian Sartorius and UK electronic artist Dan Nicholls team up as Clay Kin, presenting their debut record on Squama.
They had never planned to make an album yet through pure improvisation and spontaneity, Clay Kin have crafted Vevey. An album of seven tracks, distilled from over seven hours of improvised percussion and electronics. Recorded mostly outdoors––on pedalo boats, up mountains and deep in forests near the namesake Swiss town of Vevey, it is imbued with the soft fascination of birdsong, rushing water and chattering children.
Vevey resists genre. As musicians, Sartorius and Nicholls bridge the divide between acoustic and electronic soundscapes. Sartorius’ raw, organic percussion interweaves with Nicholls’ keyboard-triggered samples and harmonic landscapes, creating a dialogue where the lines between rhythm, melody and noise dissolve. Clay Kin identify their outfit as an audio-visual collective, with visual artist Lou Zon (Louise Boer) rounding out the group, creating videos to accompany both the recorded music and the live experience.

Krystof is the nom de plume of Polish-born composer, producer and DJ Krzysztof Skonieczny. After a decade in London, Krystof relocated to the remote, serrated landscape of La Palma, in Spain's Canary Islands. There he came into possession of a piece of land scattered with natural caves - one of which became his home and recording studio.

It was here that Krystof wrote his debut album, Diario di Vacanza. This record is a paean to the fertile terrain of La Palma, replete with its tangled networks of hiking paths, minas galerias (water tunnels), black sand beaches and banana groves.

Recordings of these spaces, melded with modular synthesis and electronic composition, form the basis for Krystof's work. These are soundscapes that hum with volcanic activity, bubble, burst and chatter - cooling to reveal locations, impressions, and fragments of a shared lived experience on the island.

REPRESS

New Delhi-based Peter Cat Recording Co. will release their debut album, ‘Bismillah’ on June 14, 2019 via French independent label Panache Records. Debut UK live shows are soon also to be announced by the band.


Peter Cat Recording Co. could almost have a question mark on the end of its name. Not least as founder & frontman Suryakant Sawhney refuses to explain where that name really comes from or what it means (perhaps a reference to the Tokyo jazz club owned by Haruki Murakami), but also since the very existence of the band itself raises a raft of questions. When was the last time we fell for an indie rock band for the right reasons? Not because the band in question nostalgically imitate a perceived ‘golden age’ but because they innately embody the fundamentals of such music: fantasy, sincerity and the freedom to make music without rules or career aspi- rations. And when was the last time this kind of band sounded like Sinatra, Barry White, the sweetest doo-wop, humid fanfares and a psychedelic wedding band, all at once? And all of this coming from India?
In truth, the story of Peter Cat Recording Co. was written within the triangle of San Francisco, Delhi and Paris.
In the first of these cities, Sawhney (a native of Delhi) pitched up to study film-making. More distracted by the city’s peaking live scene of the early noughties, this is where he started to make music and to sketch out an idea for the band.“
The people I lived with supported my idea of writing music, they introduced me to great mu-
sic. There used to be a great garage scene in San Francisco, like The Oh Sees also Ty Seagall, Mikal Conin, all those bands. This is a world I had never seen in my entire life. A big inspiration from San Francisco was that you could record yourself. You don’t need to be in a studio and spend a lot of money to make an album. You can do it”.


At the end of the 2000s, Suryakant returned home to New Delhi, and started his band for real, more or less the same band that plays today. “I wasn’t so concerned about will we be performing, will we be the greatest band, will we be trendy. I just wanted to make something that was consequential and important for us, I think. Something which would last, something people could listen to and be like « this is life changing ». It was for the sake of beauty”.


For the first few years and in India alone, this is exactly what Peter Cat Recording Co. did, in total indifference to the rest of the world. This was until young Parisian label Panache stumbled across the band online via Vice’s THUMP subsidiary, stupefied by the band’s cosmic video for seven-minutes-and-counting track, ‘Love De- mons’. And so in spring of 2018, ‘Portrait Of A Time: 2010-2016’ was released on Panache - making the first international release from Peter Cat Recording Co., bizarrely enough, an anthology of re-mastered, hidden gems from the band’s ramshackle back catalogue, previously recorded in Suryakant’s own living room. With Peter Cat’s off-kilter charm hitherto unheard of beyond the fringes of India, the release provided a gateway op-
Whilst the title track found its way onto Tracks Of The Year lists at the Guardian & NME, it was tricky for new PCRC enthusiasts to get a firm grip on the startling push/pull between the immediate, uncanny music this release gathered, and the cultural backdrop of New Delhi at which it was so startlingly at odds.


Opportunity for a wider fanbase to fall in love with their cloud-like, drunken songs for the first time.
If discovering your favourite new band via a ‘Best Of’ feels a curious premise, then ‘Bismillah’ does more than hint towards the promise of Peter Cat Recording Co’s future. Blending gypsy jazz, psychedelic cabaret, space disco, bossa supernova, Bollywood and uneasy listening with kaleidoscopic ease, in many senses, the band’s knack hasn’t altered. Always different, paradoxical, unpredictable yet somehow familiar. The new album opens to the strains of bird chatter, the whisper of a city’s soundscape and the first few notes from an instrument which seem to be calling us to the departure lounge, a fore-shadow of the flight ‘Bismillah’ launches its listener
on. Suryakant sings with the detached, rueful elegance of Sinatra marooned on a desert island, whilst his band create small space-time capsules which navigate their way through genres and eras – including the future – and between nostalgia and eccentricity.


Peter Cat recently trailed ‘Bismillah’ with the release of ‘Floated By’, an appositely titled musing on failure & missed opportunities, punctuated by the fulsome brass section which weaves through so much of the album.


The languid, blue quality to the track is offset by the attendant music video, created with footage shot, implau- sibly enough, at Suryakant’s own marriage ceremony (needless to say, the wedding band hired for the day was of course, Peter Cat Recording Co.) Sawhney dryly notes; “Hopefully it’s not a many-a-times-in-a-lifetime event. You can’t fake that set, those people actually having a good time, being really emotional and intense.” ‘Bismillah’’s colour-drenched album cover also captures Suryakant’s father-in-law making his wedding toast on that same day - a nod back towards the cover of ‘Portrait Of A Time’, itself a black & white image taken at the wedding ceremony of Suryakant’s own father.


A stumbling but gracious collection of songs rooted in a kind of drunken soul music, the melancholy nature of some of the songs on ‘Bismillah’ renders them almost liquid, before they develop into more dance-like shapes. Suryakant’s rangy voice swoops from the falsetto glide of ‘I’m This’ to the beat-up baritone blown along by the warm breeze of ‘Soulless Friends’. The elliptical structure of album opener ‘Where The Money Flows’ also al-
lows for the use of brief bursts of autotune effect on his vocal without feeling incongruous, whilst the desultory lyrics of ‘Heera’ (a Hindi word for diamond) - sharing something with the Morricone school of grand storytelling - have an emotional weight that would impress even coming from a native English speaker. Perhaps the most gleefully unpredictable moment on ‘Bismillah’ comes with the illusory, vocal loops on the intro to ‘Memory Box’, errupting into 8 exhilarating minutes worth of unbridled, string-backed disco joy. A cat might have nine lives, but on ‘Bismillah’ and beyond, Peter Cat Recording Co. are hinting towards an un- knowable multitude of dimensions. Throw them all together, and it equates less to a listening experience and more to an out-of-body experience.


Peter Cat Recording Co. are: Suryakant Sawhney (vocals/guitar/organ), Dhruv Bhola (bass), Kartik S Pillai (organ/guitar/electronics), Rohit Gupta (horns), Karan Singh (drums)

// We hope to be among the damned who refuse to have faith in their masters and who do everything to escape the cameras in the streets. Those damned are the enemy within and it's vital for our masters to twist the meaning of their words to undermine their convictions. Political opponents are rioters. The defenders of the ZADs are ecological-terrorists. Those who denounce genocide are against peace. //War is peace. //Freedom is slavery. //Ignorance is strength. //Evil is good and good is evil. //Darkness is light and light is darkness. At the end, everything is noise or at worst, chatter.. We love you.

// We hope to be among the damned who refuse to have faith in their masters and who do everything to escape the cameras in the streets. Those damned are the enemy within and it's vital for our masters to twist the meaning of their words to undermine their convictions. Political opponents are rioters. The defenders of the ZADs are ecological-terrorists. Those who denounce genocide are against peace. //War is peace. //Freedom is slavery. //Ignorance is strength. //Evil is good and good is evil. //Darkness is light and light is darkness. At the end, everything is noise or at worst, chatter.. We love you.

j.o.y.s. is both the moniker of and the debut self-titled LP by the Los Angeles based artist Ramon Narvaez. j.o.y.s. is an acronym for “jump out of your skin”. While the phrase can conjure moments of shock and surprise, Narvaez, however uses the phrase as a foot lamp illuminating a path towards momentary transcendence through creating beautifully conjured ambient music that recalls work by Daniel Lanois, suss, Dean Hurley and Tim Hecker. While the pedal steel is prominent, j.o.y.s., as a project, is more in conversation with shoegaze and noise than what has recently been deemed ambient country. Heavy brutalist slabs of noise, swirling feedback create the sound bed of these songs. Collaborator Justin Gaynor’s pedal steel on this album operates as important connective tissue as both the road and the traveler between the light and shadow zones. Drones are wrapped in distortion, processed just below the threshold where we’d throw the word “harsh” around. Rather, there is a delicate dance between Gaynor’s top-rope pedal steel lines - always sweet and always just a bit mournful - with Narvaez’s ringing bass notes and noise chatter. j.o.y.s. revels in intransigence. Nothing can last. As Matt Colquhoun puts in the introduction to Mark Fisher’s heartbreaking Ghosts of My Life - our identity and relationship to the past are “portals in perpetual collapse”. Depression, friendship, longing are all briefly satiated while in the peak experience of creating something as a response to them. But even that is impermanent. These sounds - improvised, exploratory, ecstatic - are eventually edited, whittled down and pressed to wax - not tombs but portals to the past.

Bugge Wesseltoft has long been a shaper of his own jazz idioms, through his diverse solo albums, his group projects such as New Conception of Jazz, OKWorld! and RYMDEN, and collaborations with artists such as Sidsel Endresen, Henning Kraggerud or Henrik Schwarz.

"Am Are" features special constellations of superb musicians that spans both generations and styles, and is an exploration of sonic textures, dynamic contrasts of mood and style, and ranges from sparse arrangements through to complex layers of dubs and loops and improvisational interplay.

The album begins with Bugge alone on "How?" with layers of undulating atmospheric synth, brought into focus by Bugge's piano at the forefront, creating a minimalist miniature that is both emotive and serene. For "Villrein" Bugge is joined by Elias Tafjord on drums, beginning with a santur-like synth figure, floating over ominous formant sci-fi bass synths bubbling and pulsing, and overlaid by phrenetic piano that only stops to lock into the santur figure before relaunching on its own journeys, all underpinned by Elias Tafjord's expressive drumming. "Is Anyone Listening?" demonstrate's Bugge's songcraft, layering muted percussive piano behind Rohey's distinctive and beautiful vocals punctuated by Martin Myhre Olsen's tenor saxophone, creating a soulful mood tinged with desperation.

"BAG" presents the first classic piano trio of the album - Bugge on piano and synths, Arild Andersen on bass, and Gard Nilssen on drums - announcing itself with an insistent riff, chattering drums, breaking into a progressive rock-style passage of bass and piano in unison. "Reel", the second track from this trio, is a mellow soundscape that evolves to become hazy urban downbeat jazz.

The second piano trio of Bugge (Rhodes and Korg MS20 synth), Sveinung Hovensjø (Electric Bass), and Jon Christensen (Drums and Bells) offers a completely different perspective. The first track "Render" features Bugge's Zawinul-esque Rhodes and monosynth leads, Sveinung's fuzz bass in something of a leading role, all carried with chattering gusto by Jon Christensen's dynamic drumming that brings texture and space as well as rhythm to the piece. "Vender" begins as an atmospheric piece, with reed organ-like synth washes, and octave-processed bass with a somewhat sitar-like tone, meandering until the track breaks down into drums and bass weaving around an insistent drum machine loop, dripping with synth pads and monosynth lead.

"JazzBasill" introduces the third piano trio - featuring Bugge (Piano), Jens Mikkel Madsen (Acoustic Bass) and Øyunn (Drums) - and offers a classic piano trio style with urban sophistication, that is lyrical, and interspersed with staccato cadences, giving a feeling of broken swing, slightly staggered yet driving forwards. The title track "AM ARE" is late night jazz, with baroque whispers, and distinctly melodic.

The final track, "Think Ahead" features the non-standard trio of Bugge (Piano/Organ), Oddrun Lilja (Guitar) and Sanskriti Shrestha (Tablas/Harp). Beginning with a minimalist piano figure, table, and sustained guitar, the track breaks down to a noise surge and ambient windscape, with guitar birds and abstract grinding, before returning to minimalist melodicism.

The shifting personnel across the album, as well as the three different studios in which it was recorded - Village Recording in Copenhagen, Rainbow Studios in Oslo, and his own Buggesroom Studio - creates a feeling of dynamic change and musical variety that is unified by Bugge's piano and keyboards. His playing moves between foreground, where he allows the music to elevate him, and background, where he move gently like a beneficent presence, tending to the demands of the spirit of the musical moments he has captured. It is an album powered by restless exploration and shaped by distinctive musical personalities; it is a journey through different moods, illuminated and brought into focus by Bugge's measured approach and guiding hand.

Jafa Sound’s latest 7” release is guaranteed to Nice Up each and every dance. produced by Rob Smith (RSD,Smith & Mighty, Jafa Sound) Kingstonian Young Garvey comes with his eternal positive vibes and links with the UKs ’ champion chatter Mr Williamz for this refresh of Sugar Minott’s ‘Chant a Psalms” riddim. The release is both digital and physical with a limited edition run of 300 7”s in a full colour sleeve with Kyoko Shirai’s beautiful artwork.

Pianist Masako Ohta and trumpet player Matthias Lindermayr are back on Squama with 'Nozomi', the follow-up to their 2022 debut 'MMMMH'.
The Japanese title, which translates to ‘hope’, felt fitting, as the album was conceived during a time of personal loss for Ohta, during and after which music proved itself as a beacon of hope.
The music on Nozomi unfolds gently, with Lindermayr’s airy tone and lyrical playing being wrapped in Ohta’s chordal backing that moves from tender to tense and back over the course of the album. While most tunes were written by Lindermayr, the only exception being an interpretation of Ryuichi Sakamoto’s ‘Hibari’, the arrangements are largely improvised, letting the duo’s intuition guide the course and build the form.
Solemn slowness has become a signature trait of the Munich-based duo and it makes listening to their new record a healing retreat from the frantic chatter of the present.

M.I.T.A. makes his debut on FJAAK's CROWD label with the highly anticipated Night Owl EP, a fresh offering that sees the producer delving deep into his signature sound, blending intricate rhythms, atmospheric textures and hard-hitting beats to create an immersive journey through the nocturnal world. The Night Owl EP unfolds across four meticulously crafted tracks, opening with the title track listeners are plunged into a brooding soundscape characterized by pulsating basslines and haunting melodies, embodying the enigmatic energy of the night. 'Ego Bash' follows, delivering a high-octane groove infused with relentless percussion and electrifying dynamics, a track destined to ignite the dance floor. On the flip side, 'Broadcast Chatter' takes a more experimental route, weaving intricate sonic details and hypnotic loops into a piece that commands attention with its depth and complexity. Rounding out the EP is 'Venus of Intensity', a visceral and emotive closing track that builds to a crescendo of raw power, leaving listeners in awe of M.I.T.A.'s ability to balance intensity with elegance. With Night Owl, M.I.T.A. cements his place as one of the most exciting names in the Italian contemporary electronic scene. This EP not only highlights his skillful production but also his artistic vision - whether experienced in the dark corners of a club or through headphones on a late-night drive, Night Owl promises to leave a lasting impression.

After many releases on labels with different techno imprints such as Mord, Hex, Raw, KR/LF and now BPitch Control, in his most recent works Under Black Helmet has pushed his sound in a more essential and hypnotic direction, raising the level of processing in rhythm and sound research. That's what you will find on Tempio Omega 02.

Seu Jorge, the internationally successful Brazilian singer and actor, needs no introduction. In 2024, his second solo album, CRU, will celebrate its 20th anniversary. This album, which has become a "classic", has established him as the new "king" of Brazilian music. Released shortly after the cult Brazilian film "City of God", in which he plays the role of bus driver "Mané Galinha", CRU was immediately hailed by the international press and acclaimed by audiences the world over.

Blake Lee has always been fascinated by the unknown, and space, in its isolating, mysterious vastness, embodies this theme immaculately. The open void, captured so memorably by Stanley Kubrick in '2001: A Space Odyssey', is Blake's far-reaching canvas on 'No Sound In Space', a cinematic meditation on the cosmos that's painted in nuanced, emotionally sincere colors. The Los Angeles-based composer has been contemplating his full-length debut since 2021, using his guitar as a sonic paintbrush rather than find himself snared in its traditional aesthetic constraints. Transforming its characteristics with effects and subtle processes, he layers sustained tones and intimate improvisations, creating richly visual polychromatic utopias teeming with unknown life.

Since 2011, Blake has been most known for being the guitarist and a music director for Lana Del Rey, notching up three songwriting credits on her acclaimed ‘Ultraviolence’ full length. He sees his solo work is a form of escapism, a place where he can experiment and find comfort and catharsis outside of expectations and formal structure. The album was written instinctively, and Blake made sure he didn't force anything, letting go and getting out of his own way, listening intently as sounds and textures materialized organically. "I didn't want to ruin it by being a perfectionist," he laughs. And his collaboration with Kenyan sound artist KMRU, who runs the OFNOT label and contributes to two of the tracks on the album, occurred similarly organically.

Blake was moved to reach out to KMRU when he caught a performance of 'Natur' at Los Angeles' Zebulon in 2022, leading to a prolonged back-and-forth. They didn't meet in person until earlier this year, by which time they'd become firm friends, continuously sharing music and conversation. KMRU had lent a valuable ear to Blake, who sent early playlists of 'NSIS' that, over the months, slowly evolved into the finished album. It's the first release on OFNOT that's not by KMRU himself; the label emerged last year with the release of KMRU's own 'Dissolution Grip', and Blake's debut immediately expands its sonic universe. Alongside the playlists, Blake also provided KMRU with the tracks' raw stems, which KMRU began to edit and expand in his Berlin studio. 'Miura' and 'Waiting' are the result of this process, two sublime abstractions that augment Blake's dreamlike, euphoric tones with KMRU's pebbly distortions and booming low-end rumbles. And this same playful sense of freeness seeps into Blake's other compositions.

On the misty 'In A Cloud', he surrounds cascading string tones with soft-focus pads that swell until they're like crashing waves, and on the two 'Echoplexx' pieces, he uses delay and reverb to smudge his sounds until they're viscous residue, the harmonies obscured by whooshes of white noise and distant chimes. The mood is quieted somewhat on 'Moving Air', as Blake's swirling tones form half-heard lullabies, coalescing into a dense, melancholy crescendo, and he fills out the sound with reverberant airport recordings on 'Pan Am', letting pitchy My Bloody Valentine-esque drones warble beneath the transitory chatter. Each track melts into the next, forming a billowing, cryptic narrative that leaves more questions than answers. Blake is constantly searching, and fills his unoccupied space with warmth, perception and sensitivity.

Blake Lee has always been fascinated by the unknown, and space, in its isolating, mysterious vastness, embodies this theme immaculately. The open void, captured so memorably by Stanley Kubrick in '2001: A Space Odyssey', is Blake's far-reaching canvas on 'No Sound In Space', a cinematic meditation on the cosmos that's painted in nuanced, emotionally sincere colors. The Los Angeles-based composer has been contemplating his full-length debut since 2021, using his guitar as a sonic paintbrush rather than find himself snared in its traditional aesthetic constraints. Transforming its characteristics with effects and subtle processes, he layers sustained tones and intimate improvisations, creating richly visual polychromatic utopias teeming with unknown life.

Since 2011, Blake has been most known for being the guitarist and a music director for Lana Del Rey, notching up three songwriting credits on her acclaimed ‘Ultraviolence’ full length. He sees his solo work is a form of escapism, a place where he can experiment and find comfort and catharsis outside of expectations and formal structure. The album was written instinctively, and Blake made sure he didn't force anything, letting go and getting out of his own way, listening intently as sounds and textures materialized organically. "I didn't want to ruin it by being a perfectionist," he laughs. And his collaboration with Kenyan sound artist KMRU, who runs the OFNOT label and contributes to two of the tracks on the album, occurred similarly organically.

Blake was moved to reach out to KMRU when he caught a performance of 'Natur' at Los Angeles' Zebulon in 2022, leading to a prolonged back-and-forth. They didn't meet in person until earlier this year, by which time they'd become firm friends, continuously sharing music and conversation. KMRU had lent a valuable ear to Blake, who sent early playlists of 'NSIS' that, over the months, slowly evolved into the finished album. It's the first release on OFNOT that's not by KMRU himself; the label emerged last year with the release of KMRU's own 'Dissolution Grip', and Blake's debut immediately expands its sonic universe. Alongside the playlists, Blake also provided KMRU with the tracks' raw stems, which KMRU began to edit and expand in his Berlin studio. 'Miura' and 'Waiting' are the result of this process, two sublime abstractions that augment Blake's dreamlike, euphoric tones with KMRU's pebbly distortions and booming low-end rumbles. And this same playful sense of freeness seeps into Blake's other compositions.

On the misty 'In A Cloud', he surrounds cascading string tones with soft-focus pads that swell until they're like crashing waves, and on the two 'Echoplexx' pieces, he uses delay and reverb to smudge his sounds until they're viscous residue, the harmonies obscured by whooshes of white noise and distant chimes. The mood is quieted somewhat on 'Moving Air', as Blake's swirling tones form half-heard lullabies, coalescing into a dense, melancholy crescendo, and he fills out the sound with reverberant airport recordings on 'Pan Am', letting pitchy My Bloody Valentine-esque drones warble beneath the transitory chatter. Each track melts into the next, forming a billowing, cryptic narrative that leaves more questions than answers. Blake is constantly searching, and fills his unoccupied space with warmth, perception and sensitivity.

SITW’s fourth studio album is a satirical celebration of mistakes. A joyous lambasting of everyone and everything that’s wrong in the world, against the real-time backdrop of global uncertainty, corruption and political unrest.

A London Charivari. Rough Music. A gleeful old-fashioned cancelling. A Chaunter’s delight. 14th Century recording demons collecting mistakes in a sack. Women mugging rich merchants. Nettles being pissed on. Shit food at Lent. A terrible plan. An undoing. The aftermath of a car crash. Catching people doing something they shouldn’t. Nursery rhymes reimagined as death threats. Behind the sarcastic acerbic delivery, Nicola Kearey and Ian Carter convey thoughtful, essential interpretations encouraging us all to check ourselves, through the multi-layered music of cities through time.

This is about as far away from pastoral folk music as you can get.

In their typical wry city-weary style, a beady eye is cast over those committing wrongs in plain sight, with Kearey narrating a series of tales of people fucking up, or being fucked up, with some brief respite in Lavender - one of London’s oldest street melodies - the album being named after the 14th Century story of Tittivilus, the recording demon, who collects scribes’ mistakes (pokes) and the idle chatter of the “liars with their hairy tongues” congregation.

Despite this seriousness, the album’s working-class dry gallows humour carries a stoic “if you don’t laugh you’ll cry” feeling amongst the corruption, scandals and barefaced lies we all observe on a daily basis, with a warning that “only you can fix your deficits” and “it’s your words and deeds that matter…and let me tell you, they speak volumes”.

The core of the record imagines a sound of traditional London music, where the musical continuum is unbroken by the population decimated by the world wars, or by gentrification and social cleansing that has forced communities apart, and yet absorbs all the influences of all the communities that call London their home.

Carter and Kearey attempted sessions at The George Tavern, Whitechapel, and in Spitalfields, at Denis Severs’ House, and a restored weaver’s townhouse, carrying the aesthetic of the record in their heads as they moved from location to location, before settling into an old factory building and their own workshop. The resulting sparse and economical sound is harsher, more present, more essentially them. It is a mighty haranguing that demands your attention.

»lacuna and parlor« is anchored in the left-field chamber music and incidental recordings that have long accented more eaze’s roving sound. Composed with one ear pressed to the rich textures of instrumental recording environments, this is a resonant and tactile collection tinged in rephrased space and skewed time.

Taking the rudiments of tonal music theory as her conceptual base, more eaze formed the compositions around her own manipulations of these core principles. Simple chord progressions stretch over minutes rather than seconds, for example, while elsewhere specific tonal signifiers were deleted from harmonic progressions, altering the expectations of these tropes.

These and many other bespoke techniques underpin compositions that span Americana-inflected ambient ballads and jaunty string recitals. With wistful vocals, bursts of improvisatory noise, loose chatter and overdubbed room sounds flowing in and out of the mix, more eaze invites us to lounge and linger in these lacunate moments, at once heard, felt and imagined.

Frankfurt’s Max Buchalik is in the early phases of his production career but has many years of experience throwing parties in his hometown, where he is a pioneering force. With his deep understanding of dancefloor dynamics, he now pairs his love of the 80s with rich sound designs on his debut release for Brooklyn-based imprint Melodize.

Opener ‘Higher State’ is a bright house cut awash with sugary, pixelated chords and twinkling pads. Its retro-future charms and colourful, uplifting arps all serve to get hands in the air and heads amongst the stars. Remixer Venice Arms is an alias of accomplished dark disco don Curses, who has long been a fixture in the Berlin underground. His take on ‘Higher State’ is a snappy proto-house cut with 80s synth work and natty chords that are busy and full of fun.

The second original ‘Midnight Passion’ is another vibrant track with throwback synth progressions and retro textures. The melodies shine bright as they rain down over snappy drums and melancholic leads packed with exciting emotions. Remixing this one is Italian DJ, producer and label owner Fabrizio Mammarella, who has a fine discography that takes in releases on DFA, Permanent Vacation and Correspondant, as well as his own Slow Motion Music, Wrong Era Records and Emet. His lively disco-house version is lit up with shiny chords, chattery percussive patterns, woodpecker-like hits, and sustained chords that will dazzle the dance floor.

Composed in the aftermath of family tragedy, NY Graffiti’s Burden is an album full of peace anthems, psalms, dirges, and confessionals. In the pursuit of consolation, the tectonics of techno, dub, and post-club aesthetics are pushed past their margins onto new emotional plateaus.

Like the series of EP’s that NY Graffiti has released in recent years – including a split with Subtext affiliate UCC Harlo – Burden is an amalgam of dub-informed club music, acoustic emulations, and doom-scroll sourced social media chatter, filtered through the artist’s unique sonic palette that has developed over years on the fringes of New York’s contemporary club scene.

From the largely-improvised opener (and closer) “Approximation”, to the discord of the steppa-inflected track “98 Prayers”, and the dystopian ambiance of “Reach” (evoking early Hype Williams), Burden constantly reconfigures itself in search of catharsis. The album's seven tracks are dense and claustrophobic yet unexpectedly grounding. Amid the weight of grief, and the bleakness of our shared geopolitical realities, the NYC-based artist provides moments of solace that are intimate, direct, and revelatory.

Burden was initially released as a digital album earlier this year and is now available on vinyl through NY Graffiti’s own Peace Anthem Records and Switzerland-based Präsens Editionen. While the former has primarily focused on releasing NY Graffiti’s own projects, the latter is the publishing house of zweikommasieben Magazin and has released music and sound works by artists such as Anom Vitruv, Red On, Belia Winnewisser, Martina Lussi, Samuel Reinhard, and Magda Drozd

Dubstep's origins lie in dark 2-step mutations that evolved on dancefloors and in studios in the early 2000s. That same fusion of swing and space and subs can be found by the bucketload throughout the new EP by one of DNO’s staples, Kercha.
Skippy speed garage hats and slippery globules of bass animate the otherwise sparse production on the opening track ‘Feature’, while the wild beat on ‘Absurd’ could catch out any DJs not giving it their full attention. Wrapped in Kercha’s signature sonic debris, it delivers three and a half minutes of rattling, clicking, squelching wizardry.

The B-side gives us ‘Stimulate’, a collaboration with new-gen rising star Hypho. Indebted to trap, it’s full of militant 808 hi-hat rolls and the kind of firing synth tones that spell doom in a sci-fi movie (and tear up festival stages).

Finally, ‘Saturday’ is classic Kercha: sub-bass from the Seventh Circle, and so many suspicious chirps, whistles and hoots that it could soundtrack a nighttime stroll through the woods just as easily as skanking in a smoked-out sweatbox. The track is peppered with voice notes from a friend — snatches of funny, halfcut chatter, as random in content as Kercha's non-vocal sampladelia. The final snippet, which translates to “Saturday dictates its rules”, gives the track its name. A statement that can be read in all sorts of ways, it could even confer a motto for this whole collection, reflecting Kercha’s trademark originality.

The ‘Absurd’ EP is one of Kercha’s most dancefloor-directed releases to date, and whether conjuring the ghosts of club nights past or envisioning the raves of the future, it’ll be dominating sound systems for a long time to come.

Rhythms of postmodern realism at the very bottom of the DNO.

goat (JP) are renowned for two albums released in 2013 and 2015 that took Kraftwerk’s man-machine concept back to its roots with swingeing, inch-tight drums, bass and guitar patterns that needed to be heard to be believed. For their long-in-the-making new album ‘Joy In Fear’, band leader Koshiro Hino (YPY, KAKUHAN) describes the process as “90 percent pain” - and we can well believe it - few other records we can think of transmute DAW-composed rhythmic precision into such an expressive instrumental performance. It really is a feat of determination, skill and execution that seems to defy human dexterity.

Make no mistake - an academic exercise it ain’t - in the most visceral sense, goat (JP) make BODY music, for dancing, flailing, for losing yourself in completely. As usual, Hino plays guitar, backed by bassist Atsumi Tagami, while Akihiko Ando joins on saxophone, while Takafumi Okada and Rai Tateishi step in to handle percussion, with the latter moonlighting on flute. Every sound is sculpted into a fragment of cadence: guitar and bass prangs alternately echo and dance between the drums, and Ando's sax is mutated into a respiratory slobber of guttural smacks and phantom breaths.

In some respects, it's tempting to label it jazz, but the kind of jazz that Miles Davis spearheaded on the game-changing 'On The Corner', the blueprint for so much post-punk, electronic music and avant rock. goat (JP) take that raw alloy and sharpen it like a blade, mangling the template with the knotty metrics of Autechre or Ryoji Ikeda. The accuracy is galvanic; it's almost impossible to comprehend each player keeping a mental note of the mathematical time signatures, and yet they floss them out with trills and icy stutters that seem to evaporate around the thick, taiko-like thuds.

They practically get our teeth gnashing with the bruxist rictus chatter of ‘III I IIII III’ , before ‘Cold Heat’ introduces subtly harmonised, new aspects to their sound with slivers of Hassellian flute and ringing overtones of their percussion, while the winding sensuality of ‘Warped’ slips down very nicely. Their links to OG no-wavers like Glenn Branca & Wharton Tiers’ Theoretical Girls - is manifest in the 8 mins of chipping stop/start pulse and parry to ‘Modal Flower’, while a total left turn into Mark Fell-meets-Ligeti-esque messed up metronomics in ‘GMF’ ties it off with a properly beguiling flourish.