Cerca:circuitry

The more you recall a particular memory, the more it distorts and plays on your sense of narrative continuity. In this way, the vividly textured layers of Secret Recess – the debut Dauw LP from Luke Entelis aka Viul – comprise a sacred experience that leaves a unique emotional residue with each listen. Some pieces feature delicate melodies curling over themselves, while others offer gradually evolving loops underpinned by subtle guitar plucking, distant found sounds and obscured voices at half-speed. All are crafted meticulously with analogue sources and sifted through soft-edged tape processes that reward a dedicated headphone session, conjuring the solitary space promised in the album’s title.

From a home studio replete with analog synthesizers, guitars, effects and tape machines, Secret Recess emerged slowly across an era when most of us turned inward by necessity, drawing upon a library’s worth of sketches, recombinations and lightning strikes. Entelis also cites in particular a road trip to the national parks of the southwestern US that significantly informed the hazy, spacious atmospheres of the work that followed; by his account, “the desert wind was too intense for field recording,” but you can still feel it drifting across compositions like “Taurum” and “Eighties”. Such a union of urban huddle and open-sky expanse allows the album to take on new colours anywhere it’s heard.

Whether fully formed in one brief spell or developed over months of revisitation and refinement, each facet of the Viul catalogue conveys a rare, sweet melancholy pulled from thoughtful circuitry and the core artistic impulse to simply document the ephemeral – those moments in existence that you have to accept losing, but which replay endlessly once the day unravels.

“In the depths of the recording process I often feel simultaneously in touch with past and future versions of myself, which is strange, but good, I think.” (Viul)

Viul has been the primary project of Brooklyn’s Luke Entelis for nearly twenty years, but only in the last half-dozen has it come to fruition beyond the ears of friends and family. The albums Bright Decline (Disques d’Honoré, 2019) and Outside the Dream World (Past Inside the Present, 2019) beautifully justified this patient arc, and the collaboration Konec with Benoît Pioulard (A Strangely Isolated Place, 2022) entwined the two artists’ sensibilities into one of the most notable ambient/experimental collections of the year.

In C and Rainbow in Curved Air get all the ink (inc?), but its own somewhat subtle way, 1980’s Shri Camel, the last of the three brilliant albums Terry Riley recorded for CBS, is every bit as groundbreaking as its hallowed predecessors. Not content to rest on his laurels as a minimalist master, Riley studied with Hindustani classical singer Pandit Pran Nath during the ‘70s; by blending that Eastern influence with his own experiments in just intonation (where tuning is dictated by equal mathematical intervals rather than the “tempered” tuning familiar to Western music), Riley made an album whose shimmering textures (played through a specially modified Yamaha organ) seem to change with one’s own breath or thought, like the reflection of rippling water on rock. And while Shri Camel is far more demanding and ultimately rewarding than any “New Age” recording, one definitely gets the sense that its ever-evolving, ecstatically hypnotic rhythmic and harmonic patterns are massaging the brain’s neural circuitry, leaving one refreshed, relaxed, and, yes, maybe even a little smarter than before listening. First LP reissue and long overdue!

Gregory T.S. Walker’s Minstrels & Minimoogs was self-published by a young, nomadic composer and virtuoso in 1988 to accompany an immersive multimedia performance at the University of Colorado Boulder’s Fiske Planetarium. Created with this outer, and other, world setting in mind, the four tracks find Walker stretching toward an ancient-to-future vision where Egyptian myths and Hieronymus Bosch-ian tableaus are rendered in a screaming three dimensional circuitry of electronic drums, synth guitars, and, of course, Minimoog. Given the musical terrains and outmoded topics traversed, and that this entirely DIY effort was originally released as a micro one-sided 12” edition, Minstrels & Minimoogs is as perplexing and euphoric a document lost-to-time as it is now found.

Born in 1961 into an intensely musical family spanning four generations, Gregory’s mother Helen Walker-Hill was a noted musicologist specializing in the rediscovery and work of historical Black female composers, while his father, George Walker, was the first African American composer to win the Pulitzer Prize for music. Both parents studied with the famed (and famously strict) Nadia Boulanger in Paris in the 1950s, and held to lofty aesthetic standards in their home life. Walker began studying the violin as a child, but when a burgeoning interest in the electric guitar and rock music as a teen manifested, it was largely verboten in the household. The rule was that the music played in the home was to be acoustic and classical. Although the elder Walkers eventually relented and allowed Gregory’s guitar to be plugged in for a brief interval on the weekends, the remaining days he settled for strumming it sans amplification.

Gregory, conditioned and eager for a life in music but looking to get out from under the influence and yoke of his famous composer father, ultimately chose to study computer music at the University of California at San Diego, where he earned a Master of Arts. This was followed by another MA in electronic music composition at that hotbed of West Coast experimental music, Mills College. Intermedia and multimedia in the arts was the rage in the 1980s, and Mills was one of the centers for it; audacious spectacle meeting visionary performance, such as one of the realizations for Anthony Braxton’s music for multiple orchestras a young Gregory performed in with his violin.

After a series of solo synthesizer concerts around California, Gregory followed a girlfriend on a mid-country move to Boulder, Colorado. After picking up yet another composition degree at University of Colorado Boulder, his life as a composer really started, writing a piece for extended technique for guitar, a passacaglia for vocoder and orchestra, as well as Minstrels & Minimoogs.

Envisioned as a multimedia performance such as the kind he’d experienced at Mills (which was all but unknown in Boulder at the time), Gregory roped in a number of college going or aged friends of varying skill levels and musical sympathies to accompany him with distorted sax or oblique spoken interludes. Confronted with a lack of finances, but driven to get his ideas captured in a complete musical package, the album was recorded in his brother’s apartment. If not every player assembled was on Gregory’s virtuosic level, so be it; it was more about capturing the spirit of his intentions and embracing the serendipity of mistakes.

An inspired attempt at world building, Minstrels & Minimoogs draws on the deep well of musical knowledge Gregory gathered from his parents and teachers, but all the while subverting that historical basis by incorporating mutant strains of prog and pop music. The work accumulated is not unlike the playful 1980s work of Gregorio Paniagua, where medieval estampies and rondeaus are wrenched into an anachronistic present where Hildegard Von Bingen and Kate Bush are contemporaries. Ars nova, new art, a 20th century minimalist jester and troubadour.

A one sided LP was the cheapest option Gregory found to have Minstrels & Minimoogs memorialized on vinyl, so somewhere between 50 to 100 copies were pressed. There was no distribution, outside of copies that were handed out to friends or sold at the performances at the planetarium. Gregory T.S. Walker’s cosmic-futuristic forays into oblique pop and baroque subversion could forever reside perfectly in both the domed simulacrum of our universe for which it was composed, in the formats it is being reintoduced now, and our own biblical firmament. For in the words of Gregory, straight from the original liner notes: “God Is A Minimoog”

Gregory T.S. Walker’s Minstrels & Minimoogs arrives again August 23, 2024 on vinyl and digitally as part of uncommon¢ (“uncommon sense”), an open-ended, serialized endeavor from Freedom to Spend that provides new meaning for rarefied recordings from music's outermost fringe.

JAPENESE IMPORT! :)

The poetry of the human voice encounters the magic of contemporary electronic musical technology. Heart, mind and spirit, conveyed by the word, are augmented and altered, enhanced and embraced, by electronic sound. Air from Air is a collaboration between Japanese vocalist/producer Dove and American electronic duo Georgia. This singular partnership is a collection of audio poems in which words breathed by Dove are modified and expanded, cradled and celebrated, syllable by syllable and phrase by phrase. Georgia thoughtfully highlight Dove’s voice, transforming breath and air through the ether of circuitry, dismantling meaning, yet paradoxically revealing new meaning, both verbal and musical. Part of the magic here is that Japanese-speaking listeners will find clouds and constellations of meaning in these atmospheres, while those who do not understand Dove’s native language will nevertheless find pure pleasure in these same atmospheres. While some listeners may perceive it as a brand new extension of the attempts of contemporary music pioneers to explore the possibilities of human
voice sound in sound art and electronic music, Air from Air will be rather a foray into the unexplored territory of new music, yet difficult to be named, extended into modern bass music and other fields.

Disc is made of environmentally friendly new material BioVinyl. Cover art by Sakura Kondo.

Colombian producer Faunes Efe known under his moniker Filmmaker, is one of the most productive and vital producers in the EBM, Industrial, Synth-wave and Electro community. He has quickly built a cult following amongst those with an affinity for dystopian electronics drenched in seductive darkness.

After more than 20 records within a 5 year span, Filmmaker keeps running engines with “Machinations”, a mini-album containing 7 cuts that blast a mechanical blend of Electroclash and Minimal Synth. This ride of prominent square waves, robotic beats and detuned atmospheres is born from mainly two instruments: a Syntakt & a processed guitar.

The formidable Rex The Dog returns with his first single for Kompakt in three years, “Change This Pain For Ecstasy”, a slow-burning disco-glitter stomp that’s charged with analog energy. Pushing his self-built modular hardware set-up to its limits, “Change This Pain For Ecstasy” is taut and thrilling, stripped-back and pulsating, with sweeping chords shimmering through a classic Moroder arpeggio, as a delirious voice sings out a psychedelic raver’s plaint for liberation, pleading for you to "take away my sorrow and this pain”. Deeply emotional, it’s also a masterwork in tension and release, dizzy with snare-rush peaks, and dark, humid valleys where Rex is bound to the patchbay.

On the flipside, Rex gives us “Moto”, which tickles your ear with cymatic phenomena, its gentle vibrations building, beautifully, into a monster-piece of stealth techno. Rex’s DIY synths work overtime as he chases patterns and phases through circuitry, wielding the tones until they erupt into a spray of pointillist pizzicato. The sounds here crackle and corrode, the textures so tantalizing, so sensual, you can almost grab hold of them with your hands. It’s great to have Rex The Dog back, making livewire, yet deeply human techno, alive and bursting with electricity.

Der formidable Rex The Dog kehrt mit seiner ersten Single für Kompakt seit drei Jahren zurück, “Change This Pain For Ecstasy”, ein mit analoger Energie aufgeladener, stürmischer Disco-Glitter-Stomper. Man kann förmlich spüren, wie Rex’ selbstgebautes modulares Hardware-Setup an seine Grenzen gerät. “Change This Pain For Ecstasy” ist eine Hymne an das Nachtleben, an die kathartische Qualität einer durchtanzten Nacht. Über schwungvolle Akkorde und ein hochenergetisches Moroder-Arpeggio bittet eine delirierende Stimme um Befreiung von allem Leid und Schmerz. Das ist zutiefst rührend und emotional – da es sich hier aber um ein Meisterwerk der Spannung und Entspannung handelt – schwingt sich der Track plötzlich auf in schwindelerregende Höhen der Euphorie.

Auf der anderen Seite gibt Rex uns “Moto”, das das Ohr mit zymatischen Phänomenen kitzelt, deren sanften Vibrationen sich zu einem Monster von Stealth-Technotrack aufbauen. Rex’ DIY-Synthesizer machen Überstunden, während er Muster und Phasen durch die Schaltkreise jagt bis sie in einen Sprühregen aus pointillistischem Pizzicato ausbrechen. Die Sounds hier knistern und korrodieren, die Texturen so verlockend, so sinnlich, dass man sie fast mit den Händen greifen kann.

Es ist großartig, Rex The Dog zurück zu haben, der hochverdrahteten und doch zutiefst menschlichen Techno macht, voller Leben und Elektrizität.

On Labyrinth, Heather Woods Broderick serves as our reflective host, subverting expectations of conventional songcraft with impressionistic language and quietly relentless explorations of the human experience that's at once light and dark, more circular and less linear. "Many of us yearn for stillness and peace, as an escape from the movement all around us," she explains when asked about the themes of the album. "Yet movement is perpetual, happening all the time on some level. It's as wild as the wind, yet eternally predictable in its inevitability. It is linear in part, but infinite in its circuitry. Our lives just punctuate it." Broderick began crafting Labyrinth in March 2020, when most forms of move- ment were brought to a screeching halt. The Maine-born, Los Angeles-based songwriter _ who, in addition to her work as a solo musician, built a life playing and touring with acts such as Sharon Van Etten, Beth Orton, Damien Jurado, and Efterklang _ was suddenly forced off the road for the first time in her career. She used this disruption as an opportunity to pare down her creation process and construct the scaffolding for Labyrinth in her apartment. Employing only the most crucial tools at her disposal, Broderick found herself opening different artistic doors as she focused on sharpening her recording skills, capturing the majority of the album on her own before finishing the remainder with co-producer D. James Goodwin. For all of Broderick's sage lyricism and vocal authority, Labyrinth never provides the listener with any easy answers. If the image of the labyrinth represents the enormity of modern life and the difficulty of navigating it, Heather Woods Broder- ick provides a guide to its endless kinetic wonders _ of being present, aware, and connected despite its disconnects. She describes the texture of its walls, its indifferent rhythms, and the inherent poeticism of feeling lost amid the dead-ends and unexpected turns. At this point in our history, perhaps that's all we need to keep moving.

Grey Vinyl

On Labyrinth, Heather Woods Broderick serves as our reflective host, subverting expectations of conventional songcraft with impressionistic language and quietly relentless explorations of the human experience that's at once light and dark, more circular and less linear. "Many of us yearn for stillness and peace, as an escape from the movement all around us," she explains when asked about the themes of the album. "Yet movement is perpetual, happening all the time on some level. It's as wild as the wind, yet eternally predictable in its inevitability. It is linear in part, but infinite in its circuitry. Our lives just punctuate it." Broderick began crafting Labyrinth in March 2020, when most forms of move- ment were brought to a screeching halt. The Maine-born, Los Angeles-based songwriter _ who, in addition to her work as a solo musician, built a life playing and touring with acts such as Sharon Van Etten, Beth Orton, Damien Jurado, and Efterklang _ was suddenly forced off the road for the first time in her career. She used this disruption as an opportunity to pare down her creation process and construct the scaffolding for Labyrinth in her apartment. Employing only the most crucial tools at her disposal, Broderick found herself opening different artistic doors as she focused on sharpening her recording skills, capturing the majority of the album on her own before finishing the remainder with co-producer D. James Goodwin. For all of Broderick's sage lyricism and vocal authority, Labyrinth never provides the listener with any easy answers. If the image of the labyrinth represents the enormity of modern life and the difficulty of navigating it, Heather Woods Broder- ick provides a guide to its endless kinetic wonders _ of being present, aware, and connected despite its disconnects. She describes the texture of its walls, its indifferent rhythms, and the inherent poeticism of feeling lost amid the dead-ends and unexpected turns. At this point in our history, perhaps that's all we need to keep moving.

- 2023 repress -

For the restless, living in a constant state of movement.
Proud to finally announce the first release on my new label, called "Phaaar".

The debut from new splinter alias of Manchester producer, sequencer designer, and Cong Burn label boss John Howes was made entirely on a Nord Modular G2, Elektron Machinedrum, and Monomachine – a rig he characterizes as “an authentic 2006 studio, best listened to on Windows XP Media Player or Winamp.” Paperclip Minimiser’s self-titled full-length collects eight elusively multi-dimensional constructs of stereo panned synthetics and slithering ambient techno, born of a web of generative patches subjected to improvisational alterations. Taking things further, Howes’ process involves “planting ghosts in the machines,” instilling each element with “some self-correcting behavior in a cybernetic / lo-fi AI / semi-autonomous agent kinda way.” The result is an ambiguous and dynamic hybrid of accident and intention, chaos and control, shuffling through an innerspace wilderness of psychic circuitry.

The title alludes to a 2003 thought experiment about the existential risk of artificial intelligence; how even a mundane objective, algorithmically extrapolated, could culminate in catastrophe. Here the notion is inverted, demonstrating the sonic infinities to be mined by “pushing and pulling at the strings” of musical systems. Howes aptly samples a vintage interview with electronic music pioneer Bebe Barron – co-composer of the Forbidden Planet soundtrack – discussing the anthropomorphic potential of randomized audio generation: “We thought of our circuits as actors in a script.” Paperclip Minimiser descends from a similar family tree, coaxed as much as crafted, flickering rhythmic synchronicities glimpsed in a mirage of wires and glass.

SoiSong is the stunning but short-lived partnership of Coil co-founder Peter "Sleazy" Christopherson and veteran Russian electronic experimentalist Ivan Pavlov. Though friends since 1997, the project birthed roughly a decade later in Bangkok, where Christopherson relocated following the death of his Coil collaborator John Balance in 2004. Named after the Thai word for `two' along with a notorious red-light district street nearby, the duo dialed into a cryptic language of lurching synthetics, Eastern minimalism, and interdimensional glitch, oscillating between elegance and mayhem. qXn948s collects some of their earliest recordings, and remains as transgressive and transcendent a listen now as it was upon its release a decade and a half ago. Pavlov characterizes SoiSong as less a musical group than a "utopian, semi-alien platform for collaboration, devoid of pronounced personality or centralized authority_ more like a message from elsewhere that anyone is welcome to participate in and spread." Every facet of the project was disruptive and oblique: self-released CDs packaged in elaborate origami that had to be destroyed to be accessed; a website with password protected sections, where different passwords were provided for different events, objects or releases; performance merchandise of headphones and a Walkman melted shut so the music can only be heard as long as the set of batteries last. Theirs was a muse as unprecedented as it was uncompromising, equal parts pranks and profundity. qXn948s began with samples and software composed intuitively in tandem before a large monitor, then progressively processed and scrambled into bewildering arrangements of digital frequencies, alternately spartan and claustrophobic, uneasy and uncanny. Vignettes of small melody emerge and are obliterated; gamelan-esque tones spiral above cybernetic pulse programming and funereal didgeridoo; skeletal piano meanders in the distance while flickering circuitry pummels patterns of white noise. Pavlov describes his and Christopherson's chemistry as "unspoken and sincere, and very efficient." That music this aggressively disorienting and complex congealed in a smoothly organic fashion is testament to the rare vision of its creators.

Clear Vinyl

SoiSong is the stunning but short-lived partnership of Coil co-founder Peter "Sleazy" Christopherson and veteran Russian electronic experimentalist Ivan Pavlov. Though friends since 1997, the project birthed roughly a decade later in Bangkok, where Christopherson relocated following the death of his Coil collaborator John Balance in 2004. Named after the Thai word for `two' along with a notorious red-light district street nearby, the duo dialed into a cryptic language of lurching synthetics, Eastern minimalism, and interdimensional glitch, oscillating between elegance and mayhem. qXn948s collects some of their earliest recordings, and remains as transgressive and transcendent a listen now as it was upon its release a decade and a half ago. Pavlov characterizes SoiSong as less a musical group than a "utopian, semi-alien platform for collaboration, devoid of pronounced personality or centralized authority_ more like a message from elsewhere that anyone is welcome to participate in and spread." Every facet of the project was disruptive and oblique: self-released CDs packaged in elaborate origami that had to be destroyed to be accessed; a website with password protected sections, where different passwords were provided for different events, objects or releases; performance merchandise of headphones and a Walkman melted shut so the music can only be heard as long as the set of batteries last. Theirs was a muse as unprecedented as it was uncompromising, equal parts pranks and profundity. qXn948s began with samples and software composed intuitively in tandem before a large monitor, then progressively processed and scrambled into bewildering arrangements of digital frequencies, alternately spartan and claustrophobic, uneasy and uncanny. Vignettes of small melody emerge and are obliterated; gamelan-esque tones spiral above cybernetic pulse programming and funereal didgeridoo; skeletal piano meanders in the distance while flickering circuitry pummels patterns of white noise. Pavlov describes his and Christopherson's chemistry as "unspoken and sincere, and very efficient." That music this aggressively disorienting and complex congealed in a smoothly organic fashion is testament to the rare vision of its creators.

Cabaret Voltaire co-founder Stephen Mallinder's second solo outing for Dais further distills his signature fusion of minimal synth, oblique wordplay, and "wonky disco" into a riveting rhythm suite ripe for our Age of Escalation: Tick Tick Tick. Channeling the temporal malaise of lockdown through a lusher palette of modular electronics and stereo strings, the songs embrace ambiguity and plasticity, loose systems of percolating circuitry and airless funk. Recorded across a handful of sessions at Meme Tune Studios in Cornwall with frequent collaborator Benge (aka Ben Edwards), Mallinder cites no guiding aesthetic premise for the collection beyond "cowbell on every track, and entirely no reverb." From the first coiled cybernetic groove of opener "Contact," the album's spatial dynamics are disorienting and asymmetrical, alternately cold and sensual, opiated and claustrophobic. But, throughout, "rhythm is the default, the bedrock, the building block-even the melodies are rhythmic." Across 40-plus years of electronic musicianship, Mallinder's sense of timing and tempo has honed into a rare tier of mastery, limber and fluid but knotted with strange frictions. Shades of Detroit technoid industrial ("ringdropp," "Shock To The Body") crossfade into now avy punk-funk ("Guernica Gallery," "Galaxy," "The Trial"), bad trip IDM ("Wasteland"), and jittery vapor house ("Hush"), at the threshold of modes both familiar and foreign. Lyrically the record is equally evasive, rich with allusions and associative linguistics, surveying liquid notions of societal noise, ecological ruin, art world pretension, and the trials of daily life. But the lack of fixed meaning remains Mallinder's main muse: "Music should draw you in; lyrics should make you think. Most interpretation is misinterpretation." This is music of countdowns and comedowns, fleeting pleasures and opaque futures, observing the great decline while dancing on its ashes. Flux is deathless and forever; the rest, illusion: "I will be a constant figure / Flickering a moving picture / Turning in your head forever / Split apart but held together."

Cabaret Voltaire co-founder Stephen Mallinder's second solo outing for Dais further distills his signature fusion of minimal synth, oblique wordplay, and "wonky disco" into a riveting rhythm suite ripe for our Age of Escalation: Tick Tick Tick. Channeling the temporal malaise of lockdown through a lusher palette of modular electronics and stereo strings, the songs embrace ambiguity and plasticity, loose systems of percolating circuitry and airless funk. Recorded across a handful of sessions at Meme Tune Studios in Cornwall with frequent collaborator Benge (aka Ben Edwards), Mallinder cites no guiding aesthetic premise for the collection beyond "cowbell on every track, and entirely no reverb." From the first coiled cybernetic groove of opener "Contact," the album's spatial dynamics are disorienting and asymmetrical, alternately cold and sensual, opiated and claustrophobic. But, throughout, "rhythm is the default, the bedrock, the building block-even the melodies are rhythmic." Across 40-plus years of electronic musicianship, Mallinder's sense of timing and tempo has honed into a rare tier of mastery, limber and fluid but knotted with strange frictions. Shades of Detroit technoid industrial ("ringdropp," "Shock To The Body") crossfade into now avy punk-funk ("Guernica Gallery," "Galaxy," "The Trial"), bad trip IDM ("Wasteland"), and jittery vapor house ("Hush"), at the threshold of modes both familiar and foreign. Lyrically the record is equally evasive, rich with allusions and associative linguistics, surveying liquid notions of societal noise, ecological ruin, art world pretension, and the trials of daily life. But the lack of fixed meaning remains Mallinder's main muse: "Music should draw you in; lyrics should make you think. Most interpretation is misinterpretation." This is music of countdowns and comedowns, fleeting pleasures and opaque futures, observing the great decline while dancing on its ashes. Flux is deathless and forever; the rest, illusion: "I will be a constant figure / Flickering a moving picture / Turning in your head forever / Split apart but held together."

Emerging when humanity needs him most, and currently adopting the body of a 60 odd-year old carpenter with a penchant for animation and Red Stripe; Terry Perace teams up with Red Laser's own Pharaoh Brunson to form a new perpetual EP series.
The Peraceamid project begins with EP 1. 4 x Hyper-ancient, super-hi-tek audio tools for us Earth dwellers to utilise, corrupting RL's standard "Manctalo" vigour with abandan.

(A1 - Terry Perace - Trip Pop 2020)
Perace himself, ditching the Carpenter attire and hardwiring himself straight into basic circuitry, conjures up skeletal, repetitive reduxes, born outta the oldest primordial gloop, churning together into embryonic life form rhythms that have now existed since the earliest signals of dual-cell organisms on our planet.

(A2 - Kid Machine S.D.M (Terry Perace's InSlaved mix)
Terry sparkles his Martian magic across Kid Machine's S.D.M from the 2020 'Magico' LP. An already high Manctalo watermark now given further accreditation by the highest Elders of Ancient Egypt which Terry confers with on the regular. Welcome to the top of the pyramid gee!

(B1 - Marcus Paulson - Wrecked in Utrecht)
The elusive Marcus Paulson we so far know very little about other than that he's an unconfirmed UFO enthusiast from Warrington...Terry received 'Wrecked In Utrecht' when he accidentally plugged a random USB drive into his earhole (he's not that up on our basic tech yet) in Pharaoh's studio at Hidden. An otherworldly Manctalo vortex and a holographic, plasma-soaked acid track designed to provide a cross-planetary bridge to raves and free parties on Cygnus.

(B2 - Ste Spandex - Examples of You)
Terry's been warmly applying his cosmic voodoo on Red Laser veteran Ste Spandex, nudging him further into the inter dimensional discipline of sonic energy manipulation, the fruits of which are a hyper-driven re-vamp of a '98, Earth-based club classic which he blasts into 5D thru the galvanised circuitry of his palladium-boosted studio.

Licensed and published by Red Laser Records here on Earth. First volume in a perpetual series...

RED/YELLOW MARBLED Vinyl

Internationally revered, multi-faceted artist Arnaud Rebotini arrives on Veyl with the new EP, 'New Territory'. While venturing into a wide array of musical genres and sonic realms, the release is still unmistakably Rebotini, fueled by infectious electro-body grooves and hypnotizing vocals.
From the utterly addictive, pulse pounding allure of “Special A” to the more industrial techno strains of 'A Noise Rose', Rebotini delivers a myriad of interconnected tracks which traverse fresh auditory landscapes but maintain a common circuitry. The poignant, anthemic lyrics of 'No More Love (No More Hate)' resonates loud and clear while the throbbing, Giallo flaire of 'Italian Sex Drive' sends shivers down the spine.
'The Pale Eastern Christ' injects a haunting atmospheric mood while the title track is irresistible ebmwave that falls perfectly in between the lines for an indelible sound that only the French producer can conjure. Rebotini’s work continues to shatter boundaries and fuse genres while essentially pioneering a category all of his own. 'New Territory' furthers the legend and keeps us begging for more.

*Text by Philip Sherburne: In the beginning, there was just a box of tapes and “Fate’s Gentle Hand.”

It was the autumn of 2010, and an anonymous figure known only as the Head Technician, an employee of Pye Corner Audio Transcription Services (“Magnetically aligning ferrous particles since 1970”), found himself at an auction in the village of Coldred, pop. 110. He was on the hunt for tobacco pipes when he chanced across a trio of boxes listed in the auction catalog, which described their contents only as “archived magnetic recordings.” The sole bidder, he won the lot, and upon receipt of his purchase took possession of an unspecified number of mouldering cassettes and ¼" reel-to-reel tapes. The collection contained no identifying information save for a single phrase scrawled on each box: “Black Mill Sessions.” And so, armed with razors, eyedroppers, and a bevy of solid-state circuitry, the Head Technician sat down at his machines and got to work

Faitiche presents, for the first time on vinyl, a selection from the 84-track (!!) remix project originally released in 2013 as a three-tape set by Trip Shrubb aka kptmichigan aka Michael Beckett. Known to many from bands like Tuesday Weld or The Schneider TM Experience, Beckett remixed his way through Harry Smith’s famous Anthology of American Folk Music – a compilation of American folk, blues and country recordings released in 1952, soon to become key point of reference for the emerging folk revival movement. Having translated the title into the local dialect of the part of Germany where he lives, Beckett began reinterpreting all of its 84 tracks using sampler, effect pedals and loops – sometimes making several tracks in a single day. A colossal undertaking whose results are beyond accomplished and that is summed up in the selection of thirteen tracks on 'Trewwer, Leud un Danz'.

Murray Royston-Ward writes about 'Trewwer, Leud un Danz':

"Total sacrilege ... A collection of remixes of tracks from Harry Smith’s Anthology of American Folk Music which was originally released in its entirety. The album is titled Trewwer, Leud un Danz (sorrow, song and dance) which is drawn from an endangered ‘Low German’ dialect (lippisch Platt) and is poetically approximating Smith’s volumes Ballads, Social Music and Songs. 

The hardware employed encompasses analogue, virtual analogue and digital. A primordial soup of electrical fields, striated granulation, micro-circuitry, molecular oscillations and mathematical manipulation; communicating directly with the guitars, zithers, mountain dulcimers, fiddles, jaw harps, banjos, harmonicas and human voices of 1930’s America: itself a reterritorialization of African and European folk traditions that reach back farther and farther into our collective pasts. (…)"

In the beginning, there was just a box of tapes and “Fate’s Gentle Hand.”

It was the autumn of 2010, and an anonymous figure known only as the Head Technician, an employee of Pye Corner Audio Transcription Services (“Magnetically aligning ferrous particles since 1970”), found himself at an auction in the village of Coldred, pop. 110. He was on the hunt for tobacco pipes when he chanced across a trio of boxes listed in the auction catalog, which described their contents only as “archived magnetic recordings.” The sole bidder, he won the lot, and upon receipt of his purchase took possession of an unspecified number of mouldering cassettes and ¼" reel-to-reel tapes. The collection contained no identifying information save for a single phrase scrawled on each box: “Black Mill Sessions.” And so, armed with razors, eyedroppers, and a bevy of solid-state circuitry, the Head Technician sat down at his machines and got to work.

Whether anyone believed it or not, this was the framing device surrounding Pye Corner Audio’s Black Mill Tapes Volume I: Avant Shards, which took the mysterious tactics of artists like Boards of Canada and Burial and raised them exponentially. Much like the narrator of a 19th century novel, the anonymous Head Technician purported merely to be the messenger of secondhand sounds. These were not compositions, we were told; they were tape transfers—“transcriptions” of an unknown author, slathered

RNXRX returns to VEYL for his debut album, 'Impreciso'. No stranger to the label, the artist first made an appearance on 'Previously Undisclosed Rituals' and then again with 'Sigil', a collection of B-sides which act as the perfect prelude to this offering.
Derived from an alchemy of inspiration, the album is the result of endless nights unearthing samples, vinyl oddities, effects databases from a bygone era and the artist’s own post-processed vocals - imprecise components which all combine perfectly to form this LP.
Unconstrained by genre, 'Impreciso' journeys through strains of body music, psychedelic rock, soundtrack and more, delivering electronic experimentations which expose the artist’s darkest tendencies while
revealing a long admiration of post-punk, hip hop and science fiction’s finest.
Twelve tracks falling somewhere between homage and reinvention, 'Impreciso' operates with 80’s circuitry, throws back to 90’s beat nostalgia and drills into a cyber-verse for a familiar yet unexpected trip perfect for this moment.

Half of Manie Sans Délire, June, turns up on Artificial Dance with his anticipated new mini-album, ‘Horizons’ - following on from his studio companion Trenton Chase’s ‘Planar Array’ released earlier in 2020. True to the signature synth-splattered sound of his and his duo, June’s newest wave-imbued manifesto has us swimming amidst an organized chaos of roughly extruded keyboard wizardry, punk-minded drum programming and a retro-futuristic headspace.

Scanning out the gap between Italo, new wave, EBM and new beat, ‘Horizons’ shifts seamlessly from forward-moving, arpeggio-laden circuitry (‘JW’, ‘Infinity Room') to hi-intensity body music (’New Horizons’), through ambientoid spaced-out sonic explorations (‘Uncharted Territories’) and quirky downtempo chuggers (‘Reverie’, ‘Psychic Process’). A kaleidoscope of rhythmic tricks and shape-shifting mirages, June’s scope-expanding six-track voyage vows to play mind games with its listener till all lights have gone off.

4xLP in tote bag (black canvas with white screen print) limited to 50 copies

Triangulating a slinky signal to a square mile off the Swan River, Glowing Pin bring us ‘Pentagon Palette’, a master blast of frequency adjusted house, swamp stomp and chakra charmers from Australian newcomer Jonus Eric.

Though opening brace ‘The Cult’ and ‘Collect’ made first contact back in 2014, a loose connection between Perth and Hamburg hindered progress before ‘Mirrors’, ‘Emulator’ and ‘Waterfall’ walked across the web in 2019 to round out a dope debut release from this house auteur. Specialising in mind altering sound design and melodic flair, Jonus generates a neon swamp on ‘The Cult’, serving up a psychoactive roller caked in radioactive fuzz and insectile fizz. Thick bass swells and circular marimba make for a hypnotic rhythm, while a shapeshifting vocal and moody keyboard riff drag us back towards terra firma. The paradisiac refrain of ‘Collect’ soon sounds out through the jungle with a euphoric haze,

its sub-tickling bass and acid gurgle riding hyperactive drum programming as the track warps in the humidity. Soaked in serotonin and brisk at 137 BPM, ‘Mirrors’ burns off the mist to offer an airy update on the French Touch template. Though frazzled circuitry and dislocated vox serve this one with a twist, the chiming pianos and bouncy beat are still best enjoyed in a Golf GTI in the summertime. Jonus reaches for the lasers via the restless rhythm and rave sirens of ‘Emulator’, a fresh take on the funky house of the late nineties updated with unexpected breaks, squealing feedback and treated vocals usually found on a Four Set banger.

Next it’s off to the chillout room for ‘Waterfalls’, a fourth-world tone poem describing crystal caves, undiscovered wildlife and a holographic waterfall. Ditching the doof, and letting those colours tesselate, Jonus offers a +2 bump to your mana, before the post punk bassline, growling EBM vocal and off key organs of ‘YR Mind’ combine for a confrontational bonus track, only available in digital format.

Purgate is the solo work of Frederic Arbour, one half of Industrial Techno duo Stärker and also works under the name Visions, creating Deep Ambient Atmospherics. As Purgate, Arbour explores purely analog circuitry through dense layers of treated modular systems and sparse, pulsing rhythmic structures. Monolithic, abrasive and atmospheric, he exerts the elemental properties of sound and the textural possibilities of signal processing as an exploration of the inherent forces, and physicality, of sound. His live A/V performance has been created with long time friend and experimental film maker Karl Lemieux (Live film projectionist for God Speed You Black Emperor), keeping a focus on all analog mediums with live projections of abstract layers of decomposed 16mm film experiments. Arbour is also the founder of the Cyclic Law and Aesthetical labels.

Late 20th Century outsider music from the outskirts of Buenos Aires featuring Alan Courtis, Pablo Reche, Quum and many more artists from the Argentinian underground.

Setting out as an archaeological excavation, literally exhuming material which has been under the surface for more than two decades, this special compilation features work by established and under the radar artists that helped set the now fertile Argentinian underground.

All tracks were directly digitized from the original cassettes masters (half of them never previously released either). The emphasis being to maintain the original sound quality as it was produced at the time (hence the cassette format). The compilation also showcases a broad spectrum style of music that was done at a specific time with very primitive gear - not by choice but because of the obvious economic restrictions of accessing sophisticated equipment forced these musicians on the DIY road. Domestic tape recorders making cassette loops, broken record players, toy keyboards and the noisy ‘fingers on circuitry’ long before Nicolas Collins championed it on Hand-made electronic music.

Whilst some artists actually had access to professional synths and drum machines (Unoxuno, Quum, Jaime Genovart), they still lacked of standard recording equipment. A crucial document then showing how their unique approach to music making influenced the forthcoming experimental scene of South America making these artists influential cult figures of the underground.



Compiled by Juan José Calarco y Pablo Reche
Digitized & Mastered by Juan José Calarco

Impromptu muscovite supergroup Lilipulu turn the needle neon with a quartet of unexpected killers for club cosmonauts, rainforest ravers, anxious insomniacs and giddy punks.

Unplanned, inspired and all the way live – the pin is glowing! Ever wondered why the Growing Bin releases sound so damn good? Well, it has more than a little to do with mastering magician Sergey Luginin, whose eagle-ears and technical know how have been a part of the process since GBR002. For the latest Glowing Pin powerplay, our man in Moscow joins some close friends on the other side of the console, letting the creative juices flow for ‘Four Amazing Tracks’. Luring Simple Symmetry brothers Sasha & Sergey and DJ & photographer Ivan Pustovalov into his studio with the promise of an afternoon stroll through the nearby Elk Forest, Sergey set the circuitry in motion and the quartet got lost in music. What begin with a plan for some simple edits and a woodland walk quickly became a full scale studio throw down, reimagining forgotten favourites amid a multi-instrumental stew of propulsive polyrhythms, low slung bass, cosmic synths and frazzled guitars. There’s techno-tribal hypnosis on the mind bending, brain blending A1, poetic post punk on the angular, janglier A2, outrageous Afro-cosmic on the freaky Floyd-in-Lagos B1 and languid ambience on the lysergic lullaby which closes the set. Recorded as they worked and presented in chronological order, this EP is a triumph of inspiration over perspiration - a snapshot of a moment which will last forever.
Patrick Ryder

The hyper talneted Stellar Om Source (NOT NOT FUN, RVNG, NO 'LABEL) blowing up new styles on this one!

"If there is one thing that leaps out from Stellar OM Source’s music, it is the sense of a highly active mind at work. There is an indivisible feeling that a real person is behind this dynamic flurry of tones, waves, vibrations and modulations. On I See Through You, the first full Stellar OM Source release in over four years, the spark that first LP piqued the interest of so many listeners is glowing stronger than ever.

In the 2010's, Christelle Gualdi carved a name as one of the most essential live electronic musicians around, dazzling dancers and home listeners in kind with her bombastic, acidic hardware jams. Circumstances outside her control forced a stop for the Stellar OM Source project. It was touring, including two shows in the summer of 2019 at Dekmantel Festival and Listen! that Gualdi credits as year highlights, which proved to be the integral jump-start to the engine.

Inspiration came rushing back thanks to the human connection of performing. Seeing a younger generation connect with her put fresh charge into the circuitry of her gear. All this accrued into new material on the road, and thus I See Through You was born.

The spirit of 2013’s cult favourite Joy One Mile is alive and well on I See Through You. There is once again immediacy, urgency and lust. But Stellar OM Source stepping into a comparatively more poppy and playful mode on these four tracks could also throw some. Fundamentally she says, it comes from a similar place, and ends with an enmeshed and positive outcome. Gualdi credits both “1995 rave” and “the clarity, bass and breath” of hi-def hip-hop productions as being twin northern stars for her to follow.

The artwork comes from friend and highly respected photographer & director Pierre Debusschere, whose work similarly flits between arresting close-ups and, well, the widescreen luxe of Beyoncé videos. “I’m definitely not a purist anymore,” Gualdi laughs – and with club-ready impact meeting human warmth, this shows in abundance.

“Night Alone” wastes no time in getting the listener up to speed. Is that an LFO sample running through “Night Alone”? Is this a lost Metro Area classic? Is that Stellar OM Source taking a diversion into searching Ibiza-rousing vocal for a moment, or did we imagine that in a heat haze? Where are the kicks? Oh there they are. How many elements are buried and revived within just over five minutes?
It’s hard to tell. Before we know it, “Lost Codes” is up and away, keeping pulses racing. A pitter-patter of baby kicks feel like a pre-tremor before a welting electro-Italo lead crashes into play. With fizzing energy, rasping synths and a frisson of danger, fans of Unit Moebius and The Hacker will be doing somersaults of joy.

“White Echoes” wastes kicks off the flip side with low gurgles descending briefly like a UFO reverse parking into the spot SOS had vacated. Soon, 303s are twisting like Chinese burns while warm chords offer a salve. The mood maintains on “Wild Palms”, the only song on this record not to feature additional mixing work from Peaking Lights’ dub-wise sensei Aaron Coyes.

True to form, the B2 is all Stellar: elements switching up and out, with all the fun and frenzy of capital-L Live action. Kick drums and bassline darting back and forth like a synchronised swimming routine, all elements in concert. The momentum of a runaway mine cart that you can’t help but strap yourself to. I See Through You is one for the dancers who have given Stellar OM Source the motive to move forward once again."

Perhaps one of the most unique and unlikely exponents of the highly collectible genres of ambient electronics, experimental tape-music and PINA (Private Issue New Age), this English-born Jamaican- raised sound designer, artist and existentialist furrowed his own unblinkered path through lesser chartered electronic fields for many moons before eventually teaming up with Bill Laswell (with Material) and Daevid Allen in New York to bring self-taught synthesis to Gong during their most oblique periods.

Creating two impossibly rare self-pressed vinyl LPs of conceptual inner-visionary outer-galactic angular tonal-dronal alien-art soundscapes in the process, the man known under figure shifting guises such as Dennis Wise/Denis Weise/Dr. Wise etc, combined a culture of sound system circuitry and radiophonic trickery adding Tea-pot poetry and sci-fidelity future- folk to his magnetic mesh.

Presented here as the first ever dedicated Wize Music collection this record combines compositions spanning 1979-1984 in both a solo capacity as well as small- group projects featuring members of the Emerald Web band.

Imagine a comic book where a Funkenstein monster called 'Laraaji-Scratch Perry' invaded your record shelf while Komendarek and Holger Czukay kept lookout... Dr. Dennis might be the only one Wise enough to outsmart all of them with his powerful amorphous anaesthetic.

Jan Bertil Svensson: co-founder of the legendary Börft Records, member of arch techno-primitivists Frak, the man responsible for Villa Abo and all-round underground don active in the field of machine music since 1987!

Whilst Jan's output will always conjure comparisons to Techno with a capital T, he has (and continues to) plough a singular and peculiar path in the realm of electronic music. For the Glasgow-based Full Dose, he presents his first ever solo 12' under the name of J.B.S: a four tracker of sluggish, minimal funk that bears the hallmarks of his most classic work as Villa Abo, and adds dashes of the brutal grit that his Studio SS project is infamous for. If there's any sort of recurring theme in Svensson's work, it's playfulness and humour, a particular Scandinavian form of sonic banter that cuts right through the po-faced, black-clad heteronomy of much of today's electronic landscape. The music on this record, with it's odd blend of stripped-back synth pop and brutish dungeon funk evokes exactly that: a body of work that doesn't even seem capable of taking itself too seriously, yet evades anything resembling a recognisable piss take. After all, nobody said that humour and credibility in music had to be mutually exclusive, and J.B.S is a master at weaving the two together at will.

In a world where dance music is often subjected to ludicrous conceptual analysis, sometimes the combined effect of hot circuitry, sincerity, vivaciousness and an anomalous attitude are the only thing for it. But then again, this is not just dance music either...

Minialbum EP + Insert CD
An Ardent Heart is a focused techno mini album that brings forward Stefan Goldmann's most dancefloor-centered material in a decade. The tracks push and pull relentlessly. Despite their linear appeal, there is an intricately balanced interplay between the heavy-handed kicks, the bouncy bass accents and the sizzling, yet clear-cut details whipped up by the rallying drums. The peculiar, seemingly 'vocalised' mode of synthesis is maybe the most unifying sonic characteristic of the six tracks and one coda. Formant shaping, vowel filters and airstream perturbations let a wide range of sounding elements speak in the tongues of a cybernetic Babylon. Layered polymetric patterns perforate the aural plane with alien scripts. Clearly structured, yet opaque messages that seem to have traveled for aeons emanate from the red-hot circuitry. They spill into a network of delays, channeled down into labyrinthine corridors, enveloped in electrostatic noise. Most tracks build on chance patterns evoked with hardware sequencers and freeform modulation sources. The resulting synthetic systems are as cohesive as they exhibit vast internal variation and range. Thus balancing simplicity and complexity right in the middle, the results are just as immediately gripping as they can feed sustained attention. A wide palette of distortion and overtones mark the contours of individual elements that seem to have near-physical qualities - as if there were metallic strings, thick membranes, a resonating sphere, all struck by electric mallets, caused to vibrate by mechanical bows and sung by silicone lips.

KUF create emotion-laden dialogues across layers of time and dimensions of sound. Voices recorded in private are chopped up and brought out center-stage to sing with beats hammered out right here and now. Glowing synths push forward. Basslines rise to grab the melodic role of a track while a vowel is truncated and locked into a grid, driving the rhythm. Voices move within the frame of a sample, performed by hands pushing keys, guided by the ear, immersed in a trio session's deep flow... A vortex of quirky hands, responsive ears and glowing circuits. Since Thomas A. Edison first recorded the human voice in 1877, the recording arts have changed music forever. Musicians have explored the endless possibilities of bouncing their input onto layers of tape, off the walls of an echo chamber or the circuitry of electronic helpers - technology that modulates, spatializes, shifts, divides or multiplies the work of human hands and mouths. An era of sampling offered a cubistic analysis of the recorded past and DJs took dancers onto intricately fractured time travels. This is the historic foundation that KUF keep probing. Just like the sampler and the DJ before them, they found new ways to re-allocate where machine and man stand when making music together. Most importantly, they turn the resulting friction into sparkling bursts of energy. 'Universe' digs deeper into the android vocal chords. The album offers sweeping melodies, different beats and persistent bass. Immerse in the intimacy of the voices, probably recorded in trains, backstage areas and at late night private parties during Berlin Lichtenberg warehouse rehearsals. By striking the keys, KUF squeeze out and serve up all