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The word "amateur" originates from the Latin word "amator," meaning "lover" or "admirer". This Latin term is derived from "amare," which means "to love". The French adopted "amateur" from Latin, and the English then borrowed it from French, initially retaining the sense of someone who loves or is devoted to something. Over time, the English usage of "amateur" also developed a meaning related to a lack of professional skill or experience. How did a word derived from love become a slur? Is love really so defenseless? They say love conquers all, but in reality isn’t love quite ridiculous? It has no intention, no motive, no agenda. How could it possibly prevail? It can’t be bought or sold, or so they say.Its mere existence can't be proven or even measured. What an impossible thing. Trying and failing, time and time again, no wonder cynicism always seems to win. I see “amateurism” as a delighted, even foolish, protest. Protest against everything. Of what’s expected of someone, or expected of someone to desire or strive for. To be elite, to be expert, to be professional, to be a master, to excel and succeed. Where’s the joy in that? I just want to have fun. I want to want. I want to love. And keep doing it, forever. I want to have fun, even when it’s tiring and sometimes even heaven is boring as hell. I want to be bad. I want to do my own thing. “I vant to be alone”. I want to be someone so dedicated to their passion that it starts to seem like there’s something wrong with them. All the way. We can take it all the way, and never get it back. ” - Molly Nilsson Amateur is the 12th studio album by Molly Nilsson. Deep in the teeth of a career that threatens to tip into something resembling a “legacy,” Molly Nilsson celebrates with an album recorded instinctively, quickly and bursting with so many moments of emotional brilliance and clarity it may be her greatest yet. Hers has been a career spent reaching out, perennially powerful in her earnestness, a warrior ridiculously defenceless and armed with a glittering sincerity. Shearing herself of the machinations of the music industry, recording at home, writing direct to the heart. Amateur is a jubilee for losers. A treatise in 13 songs, Amateur states clearly that we should live our life with eternal curiosity, offers us an open hand of comradeship out of the rat race. The songs on the album are both some of the most personal of Nilsson’s career and the most anthemic. First single How Much Is The World asks us to re-evaluate value in the face of a Neo-liberal system squeezing the life out of our loves. Pulsing opener Die Cry Lie satirises the commercialisation of emotion in the form of a shout-along diss-track. With a pounding rhythm track held down by gorgeous chord changes, heartbreaker Valhalla carries the torch for the main themes of the album: never growing up, making mistakes with kindness, moving on. When the drums crash in on the line “It’s going to get better now, you’ll see, going to be much better off without me” there is a world of feeling swirling about in the vocal delivery. One reading of the track might be that it’s a break up song but the subtext is classic Molly Nilsson: by living truthfully, making mistakes, we’re active agents against the myriad oppressions of the world. All The Way takes the theme for a run into the eternal sunset. It’s a manifesto for living fully. “Take it all the way, and never get it back” - it’s the process that’s the important point. The journey not the destination. Big Life, follows on like a part 2: An ode not only to Molly Nilsson’s career of endless gigs, endless connections with people, it’s a massive ode for following your dreams, doing it yourself. Closer The Bitter End is a powerful anthem for friendship, another definition of love infused in Nilsson’s work, A beautifully poignant ode to comradeship til the end, it seems to be the songwriter approaching aging, approaching life’s inevitability with the same vigour and earnestness, the same love of life she enjoyed at the onset of her career. There are moments on Amateur shrouded in reverb, slightly out of focus, forcing the listener to step deeper into the Mollyverse.. Nilsson’s open-armed beseeching to the world permeates every beat, every chord. These are songs exploding with life: the chunky, aggressive bassline on the punker Get A Life can’t hide its massive, catchy chorus. The sweeping Swedish Nightmare might be a tongue-in-cheek self-reference, but at its heart it’s a song about the duality of living life large, what is a dream, what is a nightmare? Molly Nilsson says you can’t have one without the other, and why would you want to? Here’s to making mistakes.

Anushka Chkheidze + Robert Lippok’s »Uncontrollable Thoughts« on Morr Music is the duo’s debut joint release. The Netherlands-based Georgian composer and the German sound artist from Berlin first met in 2019 in the context of a workshop programme that took place in Tbilisi, and later worked with Eto Gelashvili, Hayk Karoyi, and Lillevan on the massive »Glacier Music II« music and book project, released in 2021. This led them to engage in a less conceptually driven form of musicking and real-time composition that corresponds with their respective environments. They draw on traditions such as minimal music or late 1990s and early 2000s electronica to integrate subtle beats with elegiac organ drones, playful melodies with lush textures. The first document of an ever-shifting intergenerational dialogue, »Uncontrollable Thoughts« is a product of mutual listening outside time.

Though Chkheidze and Lippok had access to professional studios, they chose to rent a simple rehearsal space, equipped with only the bare essentials—bass and guitar amps as well as a small PA—to maintain immediacy in their working process. The music they made together corresponded to and drew on the respective possibilities and shortcomings of this studio, much like their collaboration in general is characterised by the care with which they approach each other's talents and ideas. While both had loosely defined roles—Chkheidze was responsible for the free-flowing beat programming and the evocative distortion came courtesy of Lippok, for example—they individually contributed in different ways to their joint process, which is as free of hierarchies as it is limitless. Hence, the duo’s focus on spontaneity and out-of-the-moment emergence makes them organically move beyond tried and tested conventions, resulting in music that seems to suspend time altogether.

When the first chimes on »Bird Song« announce a piece that sets rattling kickdrums against a backdrop of layered drones and rhizomatically entangled melodic elements, it becomes clear why »Uncontrollable Thoughts« carries this title: The album follows the constant detours of the subconscious of its makers, letting them explore moments of ecstasy such as on »Rainbow,« melancholy with »Field,« and the interplay of suspense and release through the ten-minute-long title track. But the different pieces also tie into one aother in various ways. The dirge-like organ drones on which »Rainbow Road« ends reappear in the beginning of »Uncontrollable Thoughts,« much like Chkheidze’s gentle yet emphatic piano chords on »Field« seem to provide the starting point from which the artist develops the striking motifs of the final piece »Opening«, whose title itself suggests that the record as a whole can and should be enjoyed as a loop. All this creates a unique, idiosyncratic temporal logic.

While there is much that sets Chkheidze and Lippok apart as solo artists, the major shared leitmotif in their respective bodies of work is the sonic engagement with space. »Uncontrollable Thoughts« is hence best understood as an extension of this practice; as an album that maps the geographies of their minds in motion, tracing musical movements as they melt into each other.

WRWTFWW Records is very happy to announce the first-ever vinyl release of Japanese electronic music producer Virgo's unheralded sophomore album, Remnants, a sleeper underground hit from 1999, now finally available as a limited edition 45rpm cut double LP housed in a heavyweight sleeve.
Released only on CD in 1999 by Tokyo-based cult label FORM@ RECORDS, Remnants is a quietly visionary record: mellow ambient techno, fluid electronica, and soul-laced atmospherics with the spirit of Detroit close to the heart. As the follow-up to his essential debut Landform Code, Virgo expands his palette here - working in widescreen textures, warm synth tones, and patient, emotive arrangements that feel both intimate and cinematic. The result is lush, heartfelt, and simply brilliant - a late '90s statement that rewards deep, repeated listening.
Remnants sits comfortably alongside the era's best explorations in soulful techno, ambient, and IDM, recalling the sensibilities of B12, The Black Dog, Ian O'Brien, and the lineage of labels Warp, Likemind and Clear, while remaining distinctly Virgo - subtle, sophisticated, and unexpectedly moving.
The album is released alongside Virgo's Landform Code, also available on vinyl for the first time ever, as part of a collaborative reissue series between WRWTFWW and FORM@. It aslo signals more archival treasures to come : vinyl pressings of FORM@ compilations Art Form I (1997), Art Form 2 (1998), and Re-Form Ver-1.0 (1999).

Recital releases The Holy Restaurant, the new full-length album by Derek Baron, and their first solo LP since Curtain (Recital, 2020).

The album is built from years of miniature transcriptions of improvisations, functioning in many ways as a sister to Curtain. Half-thoughts and mistakes are revisited, gilded, and illuminated. The floorboards of the album are laid with piano, organ, string pads, while serrated accruements (distortions, flourishes, and recording interferences) step and drop overhead. The resulting conflux, as Baron notes in the accompanying booklet “becomes the point and the problem to explore.”

The second track “Oven Girls” opens with us galloping on a horse in some video-game meadow on a bed of MIDI strings. Abruptly, a helicopter soars over us and we transition to a latticed guitar and woodwind exploration. The album rolls on in this fashion, juxtaposing musical half-sentences within a museum of sounds rag-picked from history and daily life. Emotional interviews with Midwestern friars who build and sell caskets are set against gothic piano and guitar duets. On “Music in the Casket,” A disorienting and hilariously epic guitar solo erupts. The penultimate titular piece, “The Holy Restaurant,” sets a text written by Baron’s grandfather. A small chorus voices his words, echoing the humanistic storytelling of “Blue” Gene Tyranny’s A Letter From Home. Under sunlit piano progressions, a fleet of smokey trumpets emerges.

Running throughout the album is a series of “traces”: short melodic phrases painted over again and again with different real and MIDI instrumentation. The “luxurious asceticism of doubling” as Baron puts it. They explain, “Part of the allure for me is that the ‘original’ material is itself kind of thin, sketchy, meaningless, maybe calling attention to itself only by way of a felicitous mistake. Hearing, transcribing, and learning what was basically only ever played first on accident becomes the guiding concern.”

The album’s shifting, variegated forms and voices pass quickly; the record feels both comforting and elusive, suitable for any hour of the day.

The Holy Restaurant features guest players Ed Atkins, Lucy Liyou, Quentin Moore, Emily Martin, Dominic Frigo, Jacob Wick, and several of Baron’s family members. It is released in a limited edition vinyl pressing of 200 copies, accompanied by a booklet of effusive program notes by the composer, alongside an assemblage of photographs, scores, and artwork.

For the third time, they had been sent to this forsaken land. It was neither east nor west, neither north nor south. They said it had once been a kingdom, somewhere in the heart of the old continent, something they had pieced together from the ruins scattered across jagged hills sprouting here and there from the ground. Everyone else went islands, dived to the seabed, drilled at the poles, and explored waste in the east, but these two were sent here again, as if someone were trying to get rid of them, just to keep them out of the way.

What were they really supposed to find here? They wandered the land, aimless and bored, like the last bird watching from the sky. Sometimes they landed, took samples for the lab, and then caught a nap by the river bend. They avoided the hot fumes of active volcanoes. Compared to those on other planets, these were more like small, whispered fumaroles, but even so, they had to be careful.

They felt as if they had stepped into a scene from a movie they had once glimpsed. A mad and exhausted conqueror screamed and wildly flailed his arms on a ridiculous wooden raft in the middle of a raging river. It was somewhere in the south of this planet, deep in the jungle. There were many movies made on this planet, but only fragments of the reels survived, and this one quickly became iconic.

When a trumpet sounded in the distance and flooded the land with a booming murmur, when all the fumaroles hissed together, and when wind rolled in, covering the land in heavy fog, both of them knew the third expedition would not be like the previous ones.

At that moment, Kult Masek and Petr Vrba were flying over the land that was once called České středohoří.

Latest record off the Kalahari production line comes courtesy of a real one. Klon Dump in the building, moving like a madman across four barrelling tech house scorchers.

Part-producer, part-engineer and a long time co-conspirator of A Colourful Storm’s Moopie. Better known to some under the alias Mark, but always surefire for some serious dancefloor potency. Doubters, look no further-this is another demonstration of his mastery.

Big with the radiant stabs, even bigger on the earworm groove. Ploughing the furrow of tough, direct but deft as the Klon Dump faithful will have come to expect by now. Proper belters.

Always flexing outstanding rhythmic ingenuity, whether it’s hardcore hybridity as Mark or the tech house innovation shown here. If anything in life is certain, it’s that a KD record will lay down some serious torque.

There’s also an off-kilter playfulness that kinda feels reminiscent of T+++’s ‘Space Pong’ or Fiedel and Errorsmith’s MMM project. Another ace in the hole from the Antipodean shapeshifter.

Thank You For Almost Everything is the sophomore album for Headache, a collaboration between writer and poet Francis Hornsby Clark and music-producer Joseph Thornalley aka Vegyn. This new album follows on the surprise underground success of their debut: The Head Hurts But The Heart Knows The Truth (released 31 May 2023) releasing on Vegyn's own PLZ Make It Ruins label. The debut record has streamed over 19.4 million times on Spotify alone and sold over 8,000 physical copies worldwide. The debut gained its popularity entirely organically with zero marketing or PR spend. Since its release, Headache has built a dedicated global fanbase, with several fans even going so far as to get lyrics or the project's logo tattooed on themselves. Thank You For Almost Everything continues the original's distinct style of Trip-Hop / Downtempo Electronica but combining with its own unique (and now imitated) AI-voiced spoken word. For this new album, Headache steps away from the hum-drum of Blighty and instead focuses his gaze to sunnier shores. Recalling personal histories of ruffled hair and school cafeterias, ancient unsolved Albionic riddles, Rome's changing seasons and its poignant graffiti, arguments with girlfriends at luxury hotel beachfront restaurants, and what it truly feels like to be alive in this inscrutable but beautiful world. The project features a further collaboration with artist Cali Thornhill DeWitt who returns to design the packaging and cover for this new album. This double 12" vinyl release, like the first, includes the instrumental versions exclusive to the vinyl version. The album, mixed and mastered by Margo Broom at RAK Studios, will use a similar surprise drop strategy as with the first album. "Follow up to the 2023 debut that gained its popularity entirely organically with zero marketing or PR spend. "Total Streams Since Release (31 May 2023): 19,413,173 (Spotify alone) "Previous vinyl album sold over 8,000 physical copies worldwide. "2nd Disc contains instrumental versions exclusive to vinyl format

Zum 50. Jubiläum von Bad Company und anlässlich ihrer Aufnahme in die Rock and Roll Hall of Fame 2025 erscheint am 24. Oktober das erste von der Band autorisierte Tribute-Album:
„Can’t Get Enough: A Tribute to Bad Company“

Diese besondere Veröffentlichung vereint namhafte Künstler*innen aus Rock, Country und Americana – darunter The Pretty Reckless, Charlie Crockett, Slash, HARDY und Def Leppard – die Bad Companys Klassiker auf persönliche, frische Weise interpretieren.

Ein echtes Highlight: Frontmann Paul Rodgers und Drummer Simon Kirke wirken selbst an mehreren Songs mit – in Kollaboration mit den teilnehmenden Künstlern.

Ein Must-Have für Fans von Classic Rock und eine ehrwürdige Hommage an eine der einflussreichsten Rockbands der Musikgeschichte.

Die Nine Mile Section in der Gemeinde Saint Ann ist die Geburts- und Ruhestätte der Reggae-Legende Bob Marley. Das Mausoleum, das seine sterblichen Überreste beherbergt, ist eine wichtige Pilgerstätte für Fans aus der ganzen Welt. Nine Mile wird oft mit der Rastafari-Kultur in Verbindung gebracht, die die Reggae-Musik stark beeinflusst. Die Gemeinde spiegelt das langsamere Lebenstempo, die tiefe Verbundenheit mit der Natur und das afrozentrische spirituelle Ethos wider, das dem Roots-Reggae zugrunde liegt. Dies inspirierte Alborosie zu seinem neuesten Album, das seine persönliche Hommage „Trench Town Legend“ enthält.
„Come My Way“, die erste Single aus dem Album, ist eine Neubearbeitung von „King Tubby Meets Rockers Uptown“, einem weiteren Markenzeichen von Roots Reggae und Dub.

Die kommende Single „Calling Selassie“ liefert einen einheitlichen Roots-Sound und eine inspirierende Botschaft.
Alborosie ist im Frühjahr und Sommer 2025 auf Tournee und wird diese Songs bei seinen Live-Auftritten präsentieren.

As summer winds down in Europe, we head back to South America for release number seven — coming in the form of a debut EP from the talented Argentinian producer Mich.

The EP delivers three original cuts, each tailored with the dance floor in mind. Finishing off the release is the first remix by our close friend Sohrab, adding his unique touch to the project.

Zonate presents its fifth release, The Roots EP, uniting four tracks from three exciting new voices in the scene. The A1 comes from Guzman with Final Point - a grooving electro cut that builds patiently before unleashing a roaring drop in the second half. Bassy Bee follows with Will Not Hurt You - dark and evolving, driven by growling low-ends and self- recorded vocals. The flip side is all Gaston Cabrera. On B1, Persiguiendo Pesadillas is propelled by a defining arp that touches into prog-trance territory. Closing with B2, A La Luz De Las Velas, Cabrera returns to his South American–infused sound - hypnotic, driving techno / prog.

oDYSea is back for its second release with the much-awaited debut EP of Penelope, featuring four compelling club tracks brimming with power and grace.

Opener ‘Unexpected Dreams’ surges with muscular basslines and acid liquidity, while ‘Usual Suspects’ adds crashing breaks into the mix.

On the B-side, ‘Strange World’ steps into outer space with a broken beat, alien foghorn motif and big synth riffs, before the electro-house groove of ‘Flow’ sends us home with a funky bang. A hypnotic blend of techno pulse and delicate breaks, ready to take you on a full dance floor immersion.

We are very pleased to share with you our fourth vinyl release: “Volvió el minimal, dicen los Content Creators” (FYC008) by Santiago Uribe.


An EP that confronts the current relationship between the world of electronic music and social media.
Through four compositions, the work unfolds with sonic rawness and radical abstraction, challenging both the dominant aesthetic and the logic of accelerated consumption.


"Deeply tied to the composer’s own life, the narrative of Lacrimosa invites reflection in the face of loss. This sonic work draws inspiration from Alice Coltrane’s spiritual Eternity (1976) as well as the traditional structure of the Requiem, a mass for the dead. One of its sections, the Dies Irae, evokes Judgment Day and concludes with the Lacrimosa (literally, “full of tears”), depicting the weeping of souls in search of salvation.

In Lacrimosa, Low Jack transforms autobiographical elements into a messianic, polyglot form, unfolding across eight movements that chart the storms and serenity of grief. The piece unfolds from dawn to dusk, as the eyes open and then close. An initiatory solar cycle, from which one returns like Dante in his Divine Comedy, transcendent yet grief-stricken by the loss of a guiding presence.

Low Jack crafts one of his most intimate compositions, weaving together musical archetypes and universal narrative structures, drawing from both classical lyrical music and pop standards."

In between the folds of ceremony and commonality lies a perennial spring of musical expression.

A statement along the time continuum, or a testament to the resilient resourcefulness embedded in that truth, forms the philosophical approach of this album – the first outing of Dídac.
Studying an extensive archive of instruments, artifacts, and field recordings at the Musée d’ethnographie de Genève—a space steeped in folkloric gesture – Dídac encountered a cosmos of liturgical music and folk song. Anchored in reverance for tradition and transformation alike, this album navigates the old-world Mediterranean lore through a post-modern ambient lens, threading drone, gentle rhythm, electroacoustic textures and the crude tactility of archival material into one woven tapestry.

Under the guidance of Dr. Madeleine Leclair, Dídac was invited to work within one of the world’s most extensive ethno- musicological archives—L’AIMP. In the saturated basements and tape-lined backrooms of the museum, he submerged himself in the sounds of ritual and rural life: wax cylinders from the Eastern Mediterranean, tapes of liturgical hymn, the worn edges of communal song.
In a makeshift studio on the fourth floor of the museum, he sifted through the hours of material he collected, gradually discovering that the archive was no static source – It did not dictate; rather, it served as a companion—offering not answers, but questions. Not a beaten track, but a cluster of sonic clues and riddles. Samples do appear occasionally, tenderly interwoven into the dialogue of the songs. In Dídac’s self-titled debut, the past is not worn as ornament or kitsch; it is listened to and responded to. The museum, its archives, and the visit to Geneva became a foundational culisse of sorts, igniting a myriad of rough cuts and improvisational outtakes.
Dídac, or Diego Ocejo Muñoz, was born in Madrid in 1994 to a family of both Catalan and Castilian origin.

Brought up in a religious household, the influence of the Catholic Church innately shaped the social fabric, schooling and daily life. This lingering dominance led the adolescent Diego into a path of rejection of everything sacramental, promptly resorting to subversion in the shape of grafitti, skateboarding and underground music. Only later in life, after a rigorous venture as an acid and electro producer, the Church re-emerged before him in new light, invoking a deep fascination for its mysticism, iconography and choral tradition.

Spain in general and Catalonia in particular, has long served as a crossroads of the eastern–western Mediterranean continuum, with many of its cultures sharing aspects of way of life and ceremony. At the MEG, Diego found himself puzzled with this realization, resulting in a sonic amalgamation that reaches farther away from the rugged mountains of Catalonia than you might perceive at first encounter.

The deeply embedded memory of rite and public ceremony, religious hymn and landscape—sieved through the undercurrent of personal re-emergence, forms the emotional topography of this album. The record does not trace this landscape; it inhabits it. Its repetitive mysticism and ambient, wide-eyed gaze could possibly evoke (perhaps redundant) comparisons to artists such as Dimitris Petsetakis, or Popol Vuh’s late 70’s cinema scores.
The delicate lines between the sacred and the secular – between memory and re-invention – serve as a cipher to understanding this album in its entirety. Titles like Malpàs Mines or Pantocrator’s Portal Outro nudge toward a folkloric and devotional bedrock—places where labor and spirituality coexist, where names preserve both dust and veneration.

Nevertheless, this is far from mere nostalgia. It is a reclamation — singing alongside the spirits of the past, nurturing what still hums beneath the soil. It is an intimate reflection on tradition, rebellion, adolescence, ceremony and fantasy – a pastoral contemplation on what once was and what is to be.

An electrified meeting of minds, Candy Girl is a lost 1975 session by jazz pianist Mal Waldron, recorded in Paris with core members of the mighty Lafayette Afro Rock Band, the American funk unit who had made France their home and whose deep grooves would later be mined by generations of hip-hop producers.

By 1975, Waldron was a decade into his self-imposed exile from the United States—a transformed musician who had reassembled his sound in Europe and Japan after a devastating breakdown in the early '60s. His post-1969 output had stripped jazz down to its core elements: modal intensity, locked grooves, and hypnotic repetition. Candy Girl doesn’t interrupt this trajectory—it extends it, wrapping Waldron’s minimalist mantras around the funked-up chassis of the Lafayette rhythm section.

Originally released in microscopic quantities on the Calumet label and long shrouded in obscurity, Candy Girl was recorded spontaneously in the studio of French producer Pierre Jaubert, whose Paris HQ had become the workshop for both avant-garde jazz (Archie Shepp, Art Ensemble of Chicago, Steve Lacy) and psychedelic funk (Lafayette Afro Rock Band AKA Ice). This session finds Waldron jamming freely with bassist Lafayette Hudson, drummer Donny Donable, and keyboardist Frank Abel on clavinet, Moog and more—laying down raw, unfiltered instrumental funk with an experimental edge.

Highlights include the low-slung vamp of “Home Again”, the crisp, break-laden groove of “Red Match Box”, and the mesmeric swirl of the title track “Candy Girl” —a minor-key electric piano waltz with hints of cosmic soul. There's even a deep cut for the crate diggers: the somber yet meditative “Dedication to Brahms”, where Waldron deconstructs the Romantic composer’s third symphony into a sparse jazz reverie.

Unlike his polished sessions for Japanese labels or the avant-garde swing of his earlier Prestige work, Candy Girl feels more spontaneous, even accidental — and that’s part of its power. It’s a document of Waldron as bandleader, collaborator, and explorer, captured in the midst of a vibrant, cross-cultural scene in mid-70s Paris. Never officially issued with a cover and barely released at all, Candy Girl is a rare convergence of two underground traditions: Waldron’s Euro-exile electric jazz and the raw, sampled-future funk of the Lafayette Afro Rock Band. Now finally resurfaced, it deserves its rightful place in both stories.

Hailing from Raw Culture, Anna Funk Damage returns with his third release on the Roman label, delivering a record as fierce as it is intimate. Tarantola was born out of a winter suspended between contrasting emotions – melancholy, anger, love, confusion – distilled into a sound that transforms personal fragility into collective energy. There’s no pursuit of perfection here, but rather an urgency running through the veins, taking shape across supersonic punk, wave, ambient and industrial.

Each track is an emotional fragment, a bite that leaves its mark: from the electric tension of Vivere Distaccati to the feverish rush of Trasmissione, from the rawness of Decadente to the hypnotic title track Tarantola, which embodies the beating heart of the album. Side B unfolds into more nocturnal and intimate landscapes, from Chiang Mai to the disenchanted sincerity of Lavoro Troppo, closing with a party that carries the bittersweet taste of reality.

Tarantola is a journey into the chaos of human emotions, an album that doesn’t just narrate but pulls you deep into its sonic labyrinth, giving noise back its vulnerable yet powerful soul.