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The news arrives in tandem with the release of two powerful new singles, "The Toughening" and "The Softening", shared in recognition of World Mental Health week At its core, 'Everythinglessness' is a record about masculinity and the mental health crisis facing young men, a subject Wolfe has lived through and now gives voice to with unflinching honesty. Turning his own experiences of depression, anxiety and ADHD into something raw, intimate and cinematic, Wolfe invites listeners into a world where vulnerability is not weakness, but a form of survival. Written after a period of intense personal reckoning, including time spent in a mental health rehab facility in 2023, 'Everythinglessness' is Wolfe's most emotionally resonant work to date, an album that unpacks what it means to be a man in a society that often demands silence and stoicism instead of softness and support.

Wolfe's voice channels the emotional resonance of Justin Vernon of Bon Iver and Nick Cave, while his songwriting explores everything from grief and generational trauma to love, loss and survival. The singles have been getting loadsa positive press. Radio support includes interviews and live performance on BBC London, Times Radio & 5 Live. More to come. Album launch show in Hastings, followed by UK and Europe tour supporting Alice Merton.

This new chapter marks Gordon’s first solo release as Leaving Laurel - a deeply personal and instinctive body of work born from a period of rediscovery. The record began as an open exploration of whatever music naturally came through, a process that became both freeing and revealing to Gordon. The album is a wordless love story told through sound. An emotional arc that mirrors the stages of falling for someone: the spark, the curiosity, the vulnerability, and the quiet realisation that your heart has opened without you even noticing. The album carries an uplifting, hopeful energy, reflecting both personal growth and newfound love - ‘our lives entwined' is a tribute to Gordon’s journey of finding “the one.” Following the loss that inspired ‘when the quiet comes’, Gordon’s eulogy to his late friend and musical partner Pierce, this album finds light emerging from grief. Where the previous record lingered in somber reflection, this album begins in that same emotional landscape but quickly blooms into something more vibrant and full of life. The opening track transitions from the cold, atmospheric tones of mourning into a more radiant energy - a sonic awakening symbolising the shift that came after meeting someone who changed everything. Sonically, the record expands Leaving Laurel's signature sound while embracing new textures. Gordon moved away from the lo-fi experimentation of earlier works, leaning instead into a more expressive palette driven by synths and fresh instrumentation, while still preserving the nostalgic warmth that defines Leaving Laurel. The result is a collection that feels both renewed and rooted - a reflection of growth, optimism, and the timeless beauty of connection.

In the summer of 2021, Brighton-based, Scottish-Thai songwriter Helen Ganya's grandmother passed away

The grief hit the artist hard, not only because it marked the loss of her last remaining grandparent, but also because it felt like her links to being half- Thai were disintegrating, roots quaking and shifting in uncharted territories. Ganya grew up in Singapore, but spent her summers in the northeast of Thailand where her mum's side of the family is from, visiting her grandmother. Where would all those memories go now that the person at the centre of them was gone? What was her relationship to this place without that glue? And so, in an attempt to process it all, Ganya began to write. "I got my diary and wrote every single memory of my time as a child in Thailand, spending time with her, my grandad, my aunts and cousins and everything," she explains, "I had these snapshots of memories that I just wrote down because I just suddenly panicked: it was like, who am I, then?" It was for this reason that, while Helen Ganya was waiting for her acclaimed 2022 album, polish the machine, to come out, she was already working on what would become her arresting new record, Share Your Care. Ganya has been releasing music since 2015 (formerly under the moniker Dog in the Snow). In the records she's put out over the years, she's shown a proclivity towards dark and artful rock and off- kilter sounds, garnering praise from the likes of the Sunday Times, Uncut, Clash, Loud & Quiet and more. But Share Your Caremarks a new era, building on Ganya's past sonic worlds and interspersing them with traditional Thai instrumentation, resulting in a plush, luminous, psych-tinged affair that is full of feeling. The result is a triumphant, abundant record, teeming with heart and cinematic warmth.

MJ Lenderman is a songwriter born and raised in Asheville, North Carolina. The anatomy of an MJ record might go something like this: warped pedal steels and skuzzed out guitar; a voice reminiscent of the high-lonesome warble of a choirboy; the keen observations and reflections of a front stoop philosopher. Songs snake their way from a lo-fi home recording to something glossier made with longtime friends at Asheville's Drop of Sun studios, but the recording setting
doesn't seem to matter much - at its core, a Lenderman song rings true.

MJ Lenderman was recorded, mixed and mastered for digital in 2019 by Colin Miller in Asheville NC, and was self-released online to quiet but firm acclaim. Now available as a Double LP and remastered for vinyl by Heather Jones, it offers a glimpse into the formative steps of a style; focused and precise, yet expansive and rough around the edges, that remains consistent across MJ's catalogue to date.

Looking as firmly to the legacy of 90s slowcore as it does to the tenor of Magnolia Electric Co. and sound wall of Neil Young and Crazy Horse, these 9 songs clock in at just over an hour and offer warm, patient worlds of heavy colour that blow by breezily. These are songs that wrap mysterious and urgent feeling in layers of patience and clarity that unfold anew with each timeless listen.

From the humdrum to the huge; Tiia explores heartbreak, disappointment, climate change, and dying house plants. The record plays with contrasts, light and shadow, fizz and gloom. Keys melt into darker textures before guitars and drums lift them back into sparkle. It's heaviest moment is the title track, written in an airport bathroom after Tiia's father passed, yet even here, hope breaks through in irresistible vocal harmonies and inventive melodies. "To me, 'Kind Eyes' is a feelings record," Tiia says. "The grief for my dad passing sits at the centre and expands towards the edges, but there's a range of other feelings too. Sometimes they're hard to pin down and navigate but the songs are my map, trying to chart where you are and where you're going. And listeners should remember that sometimes X does mark the spot."

Lead single 'Healing' hits like a mascara- smeared midnight drive through Lynch's America. First sketched with Prince in mind, it finally found its teeth on a long, lonely walk in north-east London: a rock song hiding in plain sight. Tiia says "As soon as I had a rough idea for the driving beat, I knew I had to get Sean Berry (fellow bandmate from the once mighty Comet Sands) involved on the guitar, and the hooks all fell into place". Dusted with plush keys, on 'Numbers Game', Tiia leans into classic rock drama - warmth turning suddenly cold, the floor falling away from underneath you. "The lesson here is don't spy on your exes, but when you do, be prepared to write a song about it. It was the first track I asked Paul Rains (of Allo Darlin' fame) to play guitar on and he instantly got where I was trying to go with it. Now he's my partner, I have no idea how he feels about the lyrics!" Tiia laughs. Having also worked with Tiia's previous cult all-girl indie band The Minor Characters, Seb Kellig lent his trademark dub- inspired production influences at the legendary sonic heaven of Sausage Studios, east London, which Tiia calls "My happy place".

Tiia will again be playing keys for Allo Darlin's four UK tour dates this October followed by tour dates as Count Jaakola. 'Kind Eyes' is set for release 21st November 2025 via Tip Top Recordings (Mandrake Handshake, Japanese Television, Pearl & The Oysters, Golden Toad).

Erik K Skodvin's feature-length score to Thomas Roth's thriller "Schächten" feels like the epitome of all his musical projects, conjuring a dark cinematic trip through 1960's post-WWII Vienna in a film that touches on topics such as law, justice & revenge.

Releasing a soundtrack as a stand-alone album can be challenging; and "Schächten" is by no means a typical listening experience. The record contains 24 more or less short pieces evolving through dramatic movements, underlaying menace and deep emotive scenes. One thing that stands out is the linear atmosphere throughout the story which creates a wholeness that keeps your attention to the very end. Set in wintery Austrian landscapes in dimly saturated colours, the film's dramatic events with dark political undertones feels like a perfect situation for Skodvin's atmospheric collages - perhaps sounding closer than ever to his early works as Svarte Greiner or Deaf Center. Cello, violin, piano, analogue synth and plenty of hardly recognizable instrumentation come together in a record that feels very organic in its subdued tones. The score also features percussion by Andrea Belfi as well as a Chopin piano interpretation by Kelly Wyse to the bizarrely schizophrenic piece "Judenfreund".

With the contemporary world sliding into darkness again, listening to the soundtrack feels like coming to terms with ones own anxieties - something that in the end comes through as a cleansing experience. As quoted in the film "Everyone is their own devil. And we make this world our hell".

Short synopsis : "Vienna 1960s - The young Jewish business man Victor has to witness how the prosecution of a Nazi crime against his family fails. The political and legal system is still virtually run by former Nazis with large parts of society being entangled in the past. When Victor also loses his grief ridden father and his girlfriend’s family opposes their relationship and his identity, Victor begins to loose faith in formal justice and takes matters in his own hands."

"I stood on top of the mountain and looked out over the landscape. It was so beautiful that my chest hurt. The light vibrated, time stood still, and the contours dissolved for a moment. Everything had changed; I felt it then. I took their little hands so as not to lose contact with the ground. Then we ran down the mountain, scraping our knees. Still, we didn't make it. You had already put away all the nautical charts, loosened the moorings and steered out among the skerries. Mum stood waving from the jetty. You were alone, you wanted it that way. It was to be just you in the boat this time. I called out to you. I think you heard me and felt less lonely. We couldn't carry each other anymore, no matter how hard we tried. We washed our wounds on the shore and scattered tears and rose petals in the bay. The children laughed and searched for treasures under water. We called to them that it was time to come up. They were cold, and we hugged them to warmth. One ran ahead, the other up on our shoulders. Up the mountain, our mountain."

In 2020 Anna Högberg put her widely celebrated band Anna Högberg Attack on hold, retraining as a nurse whilst continuing a solo practice and playing in other groups. With Ensamseglaren she makes a spectacular return with her own ensemble — this time a double sextet — performing an album length suite of new music written in dedication to her late father — the titular ‘ensamseglaren’ pictured on the LP cover as a young boy.

 (ensam in Swedish can mean both alone and lonely, seglaren = the sailor).

Shot through with renewed energy and a brutally affective emotional punch, Högberg’s formal experimentation opens up vibrant possibilities for the assembled musicians to let loose with some of their wildest and most ecstatic playing on record.

Högberg’s contention with grief leans into collective joy as method of mourning — the big band as extended family; where bonds are made through a shared experience of being together. Where everyone gets to be themselves without expectations of who they should be or what they can do. It’s a radical commitment to care — of her self and others — that animates and unifies this suite of music’s radical dynamics and variations in colour: from whisper-quiet textural intensity to harrowing distortion and double drum chaos; raucous and solemn song.

"Throughout history, humans have had different images of the transition between life and death. Imagine standing on the seashore on a summer evening and seeing a beautiful vessel being prepared for departure. The sails are hoisted. The evening breeze comes, the sails fill and the boat glides out onto the open sea. You follow it with your eyes as it heads towards the sunset. It gets smaller and smaller, until it finally disappears as a tiny dot on the horizon. Then you hear someone next to you say, ‘Now they have left us.’ Left us for what? The fact that they got smaller and smaller and finally disappeared is only how we see it. In reality, they are just as big and beautiful as when they were here, lying on the beach by our side. Just as you hear that voice say ‘Now they have left us’, there may be someone on another beach who sees them appear on the horizon, someone waiting to welcome them when they reaches their new port."

John Calvin Abney rises again from the Oklahoman prairies with his latest album Transparent Towns. The ten songs focus on how we remember, and ultimately accept, though he is not always certain the memories we carry adequately mark the moments that make us. "This record is wrapped around the passage of time, whether or not we can trust the memories that we swear on, how we forgive ourselves and others as seasons turn, and how we define what is important as we roll the boulder back up the hill," Abney says of Transparent Towns. "We build these routines and live our stories, we rely on our histories and our memories - spoken and recorded. Now, we're relying on copies of copies, memories of memories, all packed like sardines into our phones, and we're losing the ability to tell our own stories. I have to constantly remind myself, as well as redefine what matters at the end of a day." Transparent Towns is the seventh studio album for Abney, and his first since 2022's Tourist, which he crafted after spending the pandemic as an itinerant writer. In contrast Abney penned most of the album's 10 tracks during a period of introspection and convalescence while recovering from vocal cord surgery in 2023. The time to himself - "I didn't sing for nearly a year, and after surgery, I couldn't talk for a month, and couldn't sing for over three months," he says, left him contemplating how to trace his experiences in the silence. The album's title track is Abney's take on the inaccessible past, witnessing loss and grief through the years, damning the "days we let go left unsaid", and accepting the uncontrollable circumstances we are sometimes placed in. "The troubles and the joys exist vibrantly in your memory, but you're wondering if you remember correctly," Abney remarks. "I've sometimes had this sort of confusion between memory and dreams - you crafted this ideal in your head of how things were or might be, in order to soften the blow of a harsher reality." The places we inhabit dictate how our memories form, and for Abney, there is one place to which he is constantly drawn: Oklahoma. Although he was born in the biggest little city in America, Reno, Nevada, he grew up learning guitar and piano in Tulsa, playing bars and DIY spaces from Norman to Stillwater. His affinity for the land that raised him is evident in the production of Transparent Towns. Abney self-produced the record, tracking most of it at Cardinal Song outside of Oklahoma City, with Michael Trepagnier handling mixing and engineering. The band was comprised mostly of Sooner State musicians too, along with Lydia Loveless and John Moreland contributing harmony vocals. His signature vulnerable voice and lyrical handiwork comes through in each of the songs, along with his penchant for alternative pop melodies set against colorful chords and subtle soundscapes. Having toured for years backing up artists like Moreland, Wild Child, Ben Kweller, and S.G. Goodman, Abney embraces a lead role again, as he presses forward with the loving lament and defiant joy throughout Transparent Towns, calling us to leave behind the pressures we place on our ourselves and recognize that just because there is an ending, it doesn't mean it's the end.

Los Angeles trio Faetooth sophomore album Labyrinthine is a deeply felt exploration of emotional weight: grief, memory, uncertainty, and the quiet work of growing around your own wounds. Following the band's 2022 debut Remnants of the Vessel, which introduced the band’s signature blend of heaviness and mysticism, Labyrinthine pushes further inward. True to its name, the album winds through a maze of feeling and form, where meaning is never handed over easily. It’s rooted in self-discovery through disorientation, the idea that understanding comes not from escape, but from getting lost. Ari May (guitars and vocals), Jenna Garcia (bass and vocals), and Rah Kanan (drums) manage to stay grounded in the immediate in parallel with fantasy themes of the band's namesake. Labyrinthine holds space for this contradiction; tenderness and intensity, restraint and release. The band's self-branded “fairy doom” sound fits between shoegaze, doom, and grunge. It isn’t just texture; it’s a framework for navigating the unsaid. Like the myth that inspired its title, Labyrinthine doesn’t end in victory, but in confrontation—not with escape, but with the Minotaur. Only here, the Minotaur isn’t a monster. It’s something quiet and more familiar: unresolved feelings, old memories, and sadness that refuse to stay buried. The album winds like a maze, sometimes heavy, sometimes hushed, always intentional. Faetooth isn’t chasing catharsis. They’re creating space to reflect, to feel, and maybe to get a little lost along the way.
Artist quote: "White Noise" emerged from a diary entry, and is a relentless and intense reflection on inner turmoil. We’re often drawn to the familiar, even when we don’t realize we’re reaching out for it. It is an emotional upheaval, carrying harsh truths that weigh heavily on the heart. Guitarist, Ari May mentions, “Performing the song always takes me back to a specific place, even if just for a moment.”
“Riffs and melodies brimming with loneliness and longing… this band’s incantations affect my mood the whole day after listening.” — The Sleeping Shaman
“Bringing otherworldly hazy doom goodness… dreamy clean vocals, echoing harsh vocals, entrancing riffs, meditative shoegaze melodies.” — Nine Circles
“Slow, lumbering behemoths of great weight… couched in a melancholy atmosphere and explosions of crushing heaviness.” - Where Strides The Behemoth

Los Angeles trio Faetooth sophomore album Labyrinthine is a deeply felt exploration of emotional weight: grief, memory, uncertainty, and the quiet work of growing around your own wounds. Following the band's 2022 debut Remnants of the Vessel, which introduced the band’s signature blend of heaviness and mysticism, Labyrinthine pushes further inward. True to its name, the album winds through a maze of feeling and form, where meaning is never handed over easily. It’s rooted in self-discovery through disorientation, the idea that understanding comes not from escape, but from getting lost. Ari May (guitars and vocals), Jenna Garcia (bass and vocals), and Rah Kanan (drums) manage to stay grounded in the immediate in parallel with fantasy themes of the band's namesake. Labyrinthine holds space for this contradiction; tenderness and intensity, restraint and release. The band's self-branded “fairy doom” sound fits between shoegaze, doom, and grunge. It isn’t just texture; it’s a framework for navigating the unsaid. Like the myth that inspired its title, Labyrinthine doesn’t end in victory, but in confrontation—not with escape, but with the Minotaur. Only here, the Minotaur isn’t a monster. It’s something quiet and more familiar: unresolved feelings, old memories, and sadness that refuse to stay buried. The album winds like a maze, sometimes heavy, sometimes hushed, always intentional. Faetooth isn’t chasing catharsis. They’re creating space to reflect, to feel, and maybe to get a little lost along the way.
Artist quote: "White Noise" emerged from a diary entry, and is a relentless and intense reflection on inner turmoil. We’re often drawn to the familiar, even when we don’t realize we’re reaching out for it. It is an emotional upheaval, carrying harsh truths that weigh heavily on the heart. Guitarist, Ari May mentions, “Performing the song always takes me back to a specific place, even if just for a moment.”
“Riffs and melodies brimming with loneliness and longing… this band’s incantations affect my mood the whole day after listening.” — The Sleeping Shaman
“Bringing otherworldly hazy doom goodness… dreamy clean vocals, echoing harsh vocals, entrancing riffs, meditative shoegaze melodies.” — Nine Circles
“Slow, lumbering behemoths of great weight… couched in a melancholy atmosphere and explosions of crushing heaviness.” - Where Strides The Behemoth

Los Angeles trio Faetooth sophomore album Labyrinthine is a deeply felt exploration of emotional weight: grief, memory, uncertainty, and the quiet work of growing around your own wounds. Following the band's 2022 debut Remnants of the Vessel, which introduced the band’s signature blend of heaviness and mysticism, Labyrinthine pushes further inward. True to its name, the album winds through a maze of feeling and form, where meaning is never handed over easily. It’s rooted in self-discovery through disorientation, the idea that understanding comes not from escape, but from getting lost. Ari May (guitars and vocals), Jenna Garcia (bass and vocals), and Rah Kanan (drums) manage to stay grounded in the immediate in parallel with fantasy themes of the band's namesake. Labyrinthine holds space for this contradiction; tenderness and intensity, restraint and release. The band's self-branded “fairy doom” sound fits between shoegaze, doom, and grunge. It isn’t just texture; it’s a framework for navigating the unsaid. Like the myth that inspired its title, Labyrinthine doesn’t end in victory, but in confrontation—not with escape, but with the Minotaur. Only here, the Minotaur isn’t a monster. It’s something quiet and more familiar: unresolved feelings, old memories, and sadness that refuse to stay buried. The album winds like a maze, sometimes heavy, sometimes hushed, always intentional. Faetooth isn’t chasing catharsis. They’re creating space to reflect, to feel, and maybe to get a little lost along the way.
Artist quote: "White Noise" emerged from a diary entry, and is a relentless and intense reflection on inner turmoil. We’re often drawn to the familiar, even when we don’t realize we’re reaching out for it. It is an emotional upheaval, carrying harsh truths that weigh heavily on the heart. Guitarist, Ari May mentions, “Performing the song always takes me back to a specific place, even if just for a moment.”
“Riffs and melodies brimming with loneliness and longing… this band’s incantations affect my mood the whole day after listening.” — The Sleeping Shaman
“Bringing otherworldly hazy doom goodness… dreamy clean vocals, echoing harsh vocals, entrancing riffs, meditative shoegaze melodies.” — Nine Circles
“Slow, lumbering behemoths of great weight… couched in a melancholy atmosphere and explosions of crushing heaviness.” - Where Strides The Behemoth

"Against all odds!" ETERNAL DARKNESS bass player since 2019 Jeff Hausel knows what he's talking about. It took this cult death/doom Swedish mob thirty-five years to finally come up with their first proper album, only to see them splitting on the eve of its official release on Pulverised Records. But make no mistake: formed way back in Eskilstuna, Sweden in 1990 and revered ever since as one of Scandinavia most uncompromised death/doom entity ever, their self-titled full-length - produced, recorded and mixed by longtime friend and CRYPT OF KERBEROS/TYRANT guitar player Peter Bjärgö in their former rehearsal room - is probably the heaviest, as in HEAVIEST, thing you'll hear this year. Joining for the occasion the original members Make Pesonen (drums) and Janne Heikkinen (vocals) are John Carlsson on lead guitar (ETERNAL AUTUMN), Kristian Henriksson on rhythm guitar (UNPURE, SVARTSYN) and Jeff Hausel on bass. Eight brand new songs, written in between 2019 and 2024, marked by personal tragedy and about "the process of death, loss and grief", completed by the aptly chosen famous Italian 14th century tapestry, Triumph Of Death. Maybe their last move but talk about leaving with a bang. In Death!

Smut is the project of lyricist Tay Roebuck, guitarists Andie Min and Sam Ruschman, drummer Aidan O’Connor, and bassist John Steiner. Roebuck, Ruschman and Min started the band a decade ago in Cincinnati, Ohio. Since then, they’ve played alongside Bully, Wavves, and Nothing. After years in the Cincinnati DIY scene, they made their Bayonet Records full-length debut, How the Light Felt. The record was a revelation. Pitchfork called it “a rigorous, decade-spanning study,” and a “well-oiled spin on late-’80s guitar pop.” Under the Radar called it “pop perfection,” that “blends subtle hooks with wistful lyrics.” It was a record that explored grief through the lens of melancholic dreampop, using drum machines and layered, intricate melodies.
Tomorrow Comes Crashing, Smut's first record with O'Connor and Steiner, sees the band re-energized and trained on the limitless potential that comes with making music with people you love. Galvanized with a new lineup, Smut focused on creating a record that possessed the same towering intensity as the records that first got them into music: Three Cheers for Sweet Revenge, Relationship of Command. The outcome is ten of their most intense, bombastic, and focused songs to date.
Catharsis bursts through the seams throughout Tomorrow Comes Crashing. “Syd Sweeney, ”inspired by the actress, is the record's centerpiece. It's about how profoundly strange it can be to be a woman, to be misunderstood by people who don’t even know you. The song is driven by chugging guitars and big, rolling drums. In other words: stadium rock about perception. Paramore meets Dookie. “She connects to the youth and the girls in the water/All she amounts to is someone’s daughter,” sings Roebuck in one particularly poetic moment. The song comes to a thrashing metal-inspired breakdown. It’s ecstatic.
To make the record, Smut recorded “as live as they could,” alongside Aron Kobayashi-Ritch(Momma) in a studio in Red Hook, Brooklyn, over the course of ten days. “We have so much energy right now,” says Roebuck. Right before they went off to New York, Roebuck and Min got married, with the rest of the band by their side. The recording was a true labor of love — driving from Chicago with all their equipment, returning from 12 hour studio days to sleep on friends' couches and floors, Roebuck completely blowing her voice by the end. Smut has always been DIY. Because they love it. Because they have to do it–there’s no other option. Tomorrow Comes Crashing is the culmination of that DIY spirit: making a record that completely encompasses the intensity, moodiness, and emotion of their journey so far.

Mustang Island, the third album from Austin-based band Little Mazarn, is a gentle force. Waves of grief crest like surf on the Texas coast. Wild horses break through long-shuttered gates, only to come back around. Lead songwriter, vocalist, and multi-instrumentalist Lindsey Verrill (she/her) joins bandmates jeff Johnston (he/him) and Carolina Chauffe (they/thern), The tensong, collection continues work with Dear Life Records. A full-throated romp through the capabilities of community-minded songcraft, Mustang Island is both naturalistic and futuristic, completely recasting Little Mazarn's origins in primitive folk. Instead, the band reaches towards sonic experimentation and spacious expansion. Lindsey's heart-opening vocals and jeff's singing saw, both trademarks of the project, mix with unexpected bombastic drums, dissonant synthesizers, and a chorus of orchestral oddities. This mid-career ode dances confidently in the creative liberties granted by decades in the game - more dazzlingly lively, and honestly somber, than ever before. The band's crossroads branch across prominent Southern outsider music: On cello, Lindsey has recorded with Patty Griffin and Dana Falconberry. The longtime side player wouldn't write her first song until age 34, Jeff has played in Bill Callahan's band, as well as with LIl Capin Travis and Orange Mothers. Carolina is known for prolific solo project hemlock, Little Mazarn has also collaborated with Lomelda to release their last EP, Honey Island General store (2023), following past LPs Texas River Song (2022) and lo (2019). Alongside silliness and reverence, including covers from Kate Wolf and Bob Wills * His Texas Playboys, griet directs much of Mustang Island. Lindsey left her job of seventeen years teaching cello at a local school, Recording also aligned with the passing of Jeff's facher, a career educator in Jeff and Lindsey's hometown of Dallas. "Grief, and the avoidance of grief, is a big part of being human," says Lindsey. "You make a choice, and then you grieve for the other choice. Or you finish a meal and literally grieve that it was so good. If you really befriend griet, you re like, 'Oh, it's here, in this pancake, which I loved so much that I ate the whole thing, and now it's gone.**

There's no real way around it: Kelsey Waldon's new album, Every Ghost, is heavy stuff. Across its nine songs, she confronts addiction, grief, generational trauma, and even herself - and comes through it stronger and at peace. "There's a lot of hard-earned healing on this record," Waldon says. As she sings in the album's title track and first song, 'Ghost of Myself,' she's put in the work not only to better herself and leave behind bad habits, but also to learn to love her past selves. Compassion is a throughline on Every Ghost, whether it's for Waldon herself, for the person in the throes of addiction in 'Falling Down,' or for a suffering world in 'Nursery Rhyme.' The people in Waldon's songs aren't irredeemable - they're struggling.

Johnny and Robert began work on the album in the first weeks of the pandemic, wanting to make music that sang of those dangerous, disorienting spring days; when birdsong was brighter –– and the sense of bewilderment more powerful –– than any of us had known before. They drew inspiration in part from The Epic of Gilgamesh, the oldest surviving work of world literature; an epic poem from Ancient Mesopotamia that contains the earliest version of the Flood Myth. To Johnny and Robert, Gilgamesh resonated eerily with the present moment –– and it catalysed their song-writing. For Gilgamesh is a story of friendship, love, loss, grief, bad governance and good dreaming; of natural disaster and environmental crisis. It also contains the first recorded act of human destruction of the natural world: when Gilgamesh and Enkidu travel to the Sacred Cedar Wood, slay the guardian spirit of the forest, and cut down the trees with their axes, thereby bringing catastrophe upon themselves. Johnny and Robert wrote the album between March 2020 and February 2021, during a year in which we all wandered unsure of our path, lost in the cedar wood. The songs were composed in large part as a correspondence, through a back-and-forth of notebook pages, voice-recordings and WhatsApp-messages, at a time when lockdowns made meeting in person impossible. The first eight songs were recorded in an off-grid cottage deep in a Hampshire forest, with the sounds of chainsaws felling trees drifting in through the windows along with the birdsong. The result is an album at once urgent and ancient, which fuses poetry, landscape, myth and music into something unique. These are songs that ring with hope, love and sadness –– and one need not know anything about The Epic of Gilgamesh to be touched by them.

Planning For Burial is the solo project of Thom Wasluck, emerging from Wilkes-Barre, Pennsylvania. It’s Closeness, It’s Easy is the long-awaited follow-up to 2017’s Below The House. If Below The House was about returning home, following in the footsteps of one’s father and joining a union, and leaving behind youth’s wild days, It’s Closeness, It’s Easy embraces what comes next—the weight of all years, the quiet shifts, the reckoning with what remains. This record is many things. It captures the slow drift of time, the unnoticed shifts in a loved one—the creeping changes in mental health, the quiet pull of addiction, the kind of grief that settles in the bones rather than announces itself.
At its core, It’s Closeness, It’s Easy is about stepping into middle age and taking stock. It confronts the reality of living with the hand that’s been dealt and searching for meaning in what remains. It speaks to loss—the crushing weight of saying goodbye to a beloved 17-year old cat, the slow-motion grief of watching friends self-destruct, the inescapable passage of time as it bears down on aging parents and the self. But it also reflects the warmth of reconnection, the kind of love that never burns out but instead deepens. The feeling of picking up where things left off, untouched by the years in between.

While written over the course of two years, the recording process reflects a sense of immediacy. Rather than assembling songs piece by piece over time, the album took shape in singular, immersive sessions—less an act of construction, more an unveiling of something already waiting to take shape.
Rooted in a staunch DIY ethos, Wasluck handles every aspect of Planning For Burial project himself—recording the music, designing the artwork, and performing live as a one-man band. He books his own tours, ever and independent creative. This hands-on approach has led Planning For Burial to play hundreds of shows solidifying his place in the underground music scene. A defining moment came in 2018 when he performed at the Meltdown Festival in London, curated by Robert Smith of The Cure.

Planning For Burial is the solo project of Thom Wasluck, emerging from Wilkes-Barre, Pennsylvania. It’s Closeness, It’s Easy is the long-awaited follow-up to 2017’s Below The House. If Below The House was about returning home, following in the footsteps of one’s father and joining a union, and leaving behind youth’s wild days, It’s Closeness, It’s Easy embraces what comes next—the weight of all years, the quiet shifts, the reckoning with what remains. This record is many things. It captures the slow drift of time, the unnoticed shifts in a loved one—the creeping changes in mental health, the quiet pull of addiction, the kind of grief that settles in the bones rather than announces itself.
At its core, It’s Closeness, It’s Easy is about stepping into middle age and taking stock. It confronts the reality of living with the hand that’s been dealt and searching for meaning in what remains. It speaks to loss—the crushing weight of saying goodbye to a beloved 17-year old cat, the slow-motion grief of watching friends self-destruct, the inescapable passage of time as it bears down on aging parents and the self. But it also reflects the warmth of reconnection, the kind of love that never burns out but instead deepens. The feeling of picking up where things left off, untouched by the years in between.

While written over the course of two years, the recording process reflects a sense of immediacy. Rather than assembling songs piece by piece over time, the album took shape in singular, immersive sessions—less an act of construction, more an unveiling of something already waiting to take shape.
Rooted in a staunch DIY ethos, Wasluck handles every aspect of Planning For Burial project himself—recording the music, designing the artwork, and performing live as a one-man band. He books his own tours, ever and independent creative. This hands-on approach has led Planning For Burial to play hundreds of shows solidifying his place in the underground music scene. A defining moment came in 2018 when he performed at the Meltdown Festival in London, curated by Robert Smith of The Cure.

Inspired by Abba, early AC/DC, Beefheart and the dark heart of outsider pop, The Beyond and the Better Way is a record featuring warped orchestrations, extended autobiographical rants and sumptuous performances by a collection of Glasgow's (and Ireland's) finest musicians and singers The Gorgeous Pouting Mr AR is a pseudonym for Ronan Breslin - a recording studio owner, composer and academic who teaches sound and music at The Glasgow School of Art.

Ronan comes from an Irish family of musicians, with the most notable being his brother Niall Breslin, who helmed the iconic Irish band "The Blizzards" before becoming a highly regarded mental health podcaster and now presenter on BBC Radio 3. Niall's stellar guitar playing features on many of this record's tracks. The recording will be released on the 23rd May via Strength in Numbers Records on vinyl and digital platforms and will be accompanied by an online collection of song- related essays (aka rants). The album is distributed by Last Night From Glasgow. "The songs explore OCD, politics, anxiety, grief, regret, rage, lost love, but also reflect on joyous moments that define the transition from fearful child to fuck- you adolescence and finally reluctant adulthood. The album title song 'The Beyond and the Better Way' is morbidly confessional; however, it is also a statement of resilience, positivity and optimism for the human condition. There is always a better way." - Ronan Breslin

Posthumous record releases are always charged with emotion but when the release comes from a 17 year-old artist that was just getting started it is heartbreaking Anxious is a mesmerizing selection of songs that explore the highs, lows and uncertainty of teenage life through the eyes of Nell and is the follow-up to Where The Viaduct Looms, her debut collaboration with The Flaming Lips that explored the works of Nick Cave.

Guided by the talented Jack and Lily Wolter of Penelope Isles, who helped shape Nell's songs, some of which had been in the works since she was twelve years old, the result is an album brimming with emotion, playful melodies and a depth that hints at what Nell's future may have held. Nell's record includes three songs which were written in partnership with Canadian folk band Shred Kelly with whom she spent winter evenings writing in her hometown of Fernie, British Columbia, huddled round the fre in 2022. Jack and Lily Wolter subsequently completed these songs and the rest of the works in Brighton in 2023.

Nell's frst and only studio recording session at Bella Union's studio in Brighton at the tender age of 15 was an intense mix of long days with Jack and Lily expertly teasing out what was really going on in Smith's mind with the help of Doritos, Fizzy sweets, Coca Cola and inspiration gained by sneaking her into venues to see local bands play.

A lot of Nell's creative drive was rooted in raw teenage emotions; apprehension; love; travel; gratefulness; ambition; and grief. These moods are visited throughout the tracks on the album with an instrumental approach that brings joy into even the darkest of songs.

On April 4th, Brighton-based Australian vocalist, producer, and multi-instrumentalist Penelope Trappes will release her fifth full-length album ‘A Requiem’. It comes alongside news of her signing to London imprint, One Little Independent Records. ‘A Requiem’ collects ten haunting, ambient soundscapes - incantations of dreams and nightmares, of death and grief, as well as power and autonomy. Carnal, transcendent cello drones are used to exorcise historical and generational traumas in an evocative and macabre piece of gothic experimentalism.

Seeking solitude for what she knew would be an intense and cathartic writing experience, Trappes travelled to Scotland and isolated completely. Amidst meditative and psychedelic states, she channeled demons and accessed parts of herself she’d long desired to cleanse. During candle-lit recording sessions she found herself drawn to cello, an instrument she has no formal training in, she explains, “I always felt an affinity toward the cello, I embraced it, held it, and became one with it as a way to accompany my voice. The nerve-like strings of the cello became external chords of my vocal folds… I scratched on them, leaned into them, and conjured all of the textures I could muster”.

‘A Requiem’ is a musical service in honour of the dead, a sanctuary Trappes built for herself to explore familial chaos and history. “I was looking for an equilibrium between a ‘heaven' and a ‘hell’” she explains, “screaming out to the wisdom of our foremothers - surfacing and leading me into true strength and beauty. I listened to the sorrow closely. Death is a part of our reality. Inevitable. Omnipresent. But nightmares can be beautiful”.

She continues, “This album is my personal requiem for my parents, my ties to the land where I was born, along with all of my epigenetically connected ancestors before them. The songs helped me summon up the strength to move through my own awareness of mortality, death, and impending loss. This album is a living funeral. It’s a ceremonial collection of music. It’s an externalising of the power and strength to fight the generations of abuse and darkness that my parents self-admittedly played out in their parenting and to keep it away from my own social patterns and my psyche. It’s not an uncommon thing in the world and this lamented warcry goes out to everyone to help exorcise patriarchal, political, and religious systems of abuses of power”.

The Austin, TX-based singer-songwriter—whose decades-long career has seen six full-length studio albums, three EPs, countless collaborations, and an illustrious supergroup project in Glorietta—spent a season of rest away from his focus on writing songs. In the wake of the end of a long relationship, he wanted to prioritize processing his grief as a human, not as an artist bleeding on the page. “I love all the records I’ve made in the past. But in making them, there was always the thought in the back of my mind of where and what it could get me. I made both creative and business decisions with a goal in mind... a goal that often never came. This time it was all about just the joy of making it, about having fun with it.”

More a declaration of war than a collection of songs, Traitors burns w/ a desperate roar. Grinding metal powerhouse Misery Index has unleashed the soundtrack to a world gone mad and one of finest platters of extreme metal this year!

The follow-up to their eponymous 2022 debut album, ‘What Is Your Definition Of Happiness?’ finds Dubinski broadening their sonic palette with the help of Grammy award winning producers Mike Horner (Franz Ferdinand, Placebo, Hot Chip) and Robbie Nelson (Beck, Royal Blood, The Kooks). Across an album themed around the concept of happiness you’ll find tales of crushed dreams, doomed romance and the perils of trying to survive as a DIY live band, all set to a compelling suite of bulletproof melodies which fuse elements of Franz Ferdinand, Parquet Courts, The Clash, Maximo Park, and even Paul Simon.

“A lot of these songs have something bittersweet to them,” says vocalist Eugene. “It’s a record of love, happiness, pain, sorrow, grief, healing, growth and acceptance. We wanted to tell a story with this album, and it flows similar to the way the seasons change.”

Delicate Records delves into the swamp laden depths of heartbreak; inexplicable depth, darkness and twisted beauty with a 9 track full length debut from Saffron Bloom. The Iranian-American producer and performer; already prolific as Sepehr and known for his expertly raw and freaky sound, develops this alias to indulge the silver linings of agony. An illbient force of nature drawing on industrial atmospherics, trip hop flow and unbothered breakbeat influx. The record serves as an ode to the ever changing phases of lost love and grief, seasons of emotion weathering the passage of time each with their own ferocity and relation to the evolving cycle; one so personal yet universally understood.

Intro, the infrastructure of aura laced throughout the record, builds around an ominous and evocative piano soundscape bleeding with delay, intruding barely human vocal cries and percussive injections. Dripping into the DNA of Dirge of the Lonely and Jealous Desire, there comes a yearning, cries from beyond the grave; mourning relationships lost with an eerie familiarity. This sinister sanctuary bred through low slung stripped back breaks, those that echo within the soul and tie themselves to an anchor of inconspicuous growling sub bass; a signature idiosyncrasy perfectly elevated with Saffron Bloom timbre.

Quelling the urge to disintegrate, with power through distortion and commanding drumwork, corners of the B side like Curtain Call and Apathetic Rose reiterate a primal and hypnotic sonic discourse. At the heart of the LP and the artist’s ethos, it resonates through the mind and body in a psychedelic manner while remaining powerfully minimal. Time’s Up (It’s Over) featuring. Sam Weinberg feels like a fever dream, saxophone drenched and echoing throughout your brain, while album closer Ultimate Acceptance is named perfectly. A melancholic realization, soft in nature yet rich in complexity and beauty, a bittersweet conclusion.

Mutant, in partnership with Studio Ponoc, are proud to present the soundtrack to their latest animated film The Imaginary, now streaming on Netflix worldwide.

From the studio that brought you Mary and The Witch’s Flower (2017) and Modest Heroes (2019) comes a new sweeping and epic animated feature film based on the novel by A.F. Harrold. Studio Ponoc’s The Imaginary tells the story of Rudger, the made-up and invisible friend of young Amanda, through his eyes as he traverses the magical liminal spaces that Imaginaries inhabit, the dangers they face, and their adventures.

The original score is full of genre swings and poignant beauty. Bouncing from imaginary Yeti attacks, to Venetian Banquets, and Submarine battles, all while deftly navigating joy, and grief and everything in between - Kenji Tamai & agehasprings take us all on a journey that helps us find our imaginations again.

The anthemic closing track of the film, "Nothing's Impossible", written and performed by A Great Big World featuring Rachel Platten. We are proud to present it for the first time in any physical form.

This limited edition release features original artwork by Tom Whalen (continuing his Studio Ponoc series from Mary and the Witch's Flower), and pressed on 2x 140 gram "Zin-Zan Eyes" color vinyl

Dear Life Records is proud to present the physical reissue of the self titled debut of MJ Lenderman. MJ Lenderman is a songwriter born and raised in Asheville, North Carolina. The anatomy of an MJ record might go something like this: warped pedal steels and skuzzed out guitar; a voice reminiscent of the high-lonesome warble of a choirboy; the keen observations and reflections of a front stoop philosopher. Songs snake their way from a lo-fi home recording to something glossier made with longtime friends at Asheville's Drop of Sun studios, but the recording setting doesn't seem to matter much - at its core, a Lenderman song rings true. "MJ Lenderman" was recorded, mixed and mastered for digital in 2019 by Colin Miller in Asheville NC, and was self-released online to quiet but firm acclaim. Now available as a Double LP and remastered for vinyl by Heather Jones, it offers a glimpse into the formative steps of a style; focused and precise, yet expansive and rough around the edges, that remains consistent across MJ's catalogue to date (see also 2021's `Ghost of Your Guitar Solo' (DLR 016) and 2022's `Boat Songs' (DLR 031)). Looking as firmly to the legacy of 90s slowcore as it does to the tenor of Magnolia Electric Co. and sound wall of Neil Young and Crazy Horse, these 9 songs clock in at just over an hour and offer warm, patient worlds of heavy color that blow by breezily. These are songs that wrap mysterious and urgent feeling in layers of patience and clarity that unfold anew with each timeless listen.

It’s written in the Agreement Terms. There’s no getting out alive in Life. And yet, mankind keeps striving for eternal life; through art, through power, through cryogenics, through singularity. In that misguided quest against the inevitable, we all fall into the category of lost travellers. No one is exempt. In that understanding, Confucius MC and producer Bastien Keb offer no misgivings about the destination on the somber “Time Will Come”: Time will come for all of us / try to take your time.

Songs For Lost Travellers is a collaborative album by Con and Bastien Keb that merges unexplored pathways between rap, folk, and jazz into a spiritual triumvirate. Each genre is a balancing force within the record. The result is an album unlike either artist have made previously, possibly unlike any record in existence. Songs For Lost Travellers opens with bedtime stories and fairytales. Both “Tell Me Lies” and “Fairytale” present the creature comforts that trick us into forgetting the truth. Con’s first words spoken are “tell me lies ‘til I swear I can’t remember” over Keb’s lo-fi plucking that feels like it was lifted from a handheld recorder capturing a nursery mobile above a crib. Third track “Time Will Come” resets the album after acknowledging on “Fairytale” there’s “no nourishment in half-truths / no sustenance in eating lies.”

Honest and direct, Con and Keb imbue Songs For Lost Travellers with knowledge and truth from their lived experiences. There is grief hidden in the notes, an inherent sadness that is balanced with an awareness that grief is a protest against the social machinery of remaining numb. The record lingers in a meditative state, unafraid of restlessness and embracing solitude, with the expectation that peace is just as imminent as death.

The production contains a complimentary authenticity. Neither Con nor Keb bothered much with the professional studio in making Songs For Lost Travellers. Instead they opted for the raw state of their home recordings and first takes, matching the intimacy of being alone and reflective in their creative energies. Room static on “Tell Me Lies” makes it feel like you’ve entered their apartments. The immediacy continues on “Gutters,” as Keb plays guitar while watching the tele and Con hums along to the vocal melody in search of the proper pocket for his verse. Someone snaps their finger to mark a cue, but the snap never returns to the mix to keep time.

More drawn to Keb’s recent folk recordings on the Songs For Lilla EP than his funk roots circa Dinking In The Shadows of Zizou or the cinematic soul of The Killing of Eugene Peeps, Con leaned into the spacial freedom he heard in Keb’s lo-fi production cobbled from field recordings and voice notes. Both artists placed their families into the tableau. Con wrote “Little Man” for his son, hoping to add a positive contribution to the canon of parental rap songs. Later, his son appears at the end of “Paramount” to deliver a passage from Kahlil Gibran’s The Prophet. Keb secretly recorded his mum playing saxophone and sampled his cousin playing sax as well. The result is a near-drumless album (save for “Toulouse” and light tapping on “It Would Speak”) in which Keb’s raw production (plus a few sessions with Kofi Flexxx) gave Con a liminal zone, unencumbered by beats per minute, to craft melodies that turn his philosophical rhymes into mantras.

Perhaps there’s a message in the presence of family? It would be one of many. Con and Keb’s reflective, somber approach to Songs For Lost Travellers does not wallow in the mire. Music is action and it’s taking them through a portal to the other side of grief. We are welcome to join (which is also in the fine print of the Agreement Terms), but first there’s a password in the final song, a single request to answer: Tell me what you care about.

Biography by Blake Gillespie
credits

’之 / OF is a word that can be used as a preposition to express the relationship between a part and a whole. It is an unfinished tone, a broken sentence, a start and a whole. It is sustainable, full of potentials and longings.’’

London based performance and sound artist Li Yilei shared an experience familiar to many migrants during the past year of COVID-19 chaos. With their UK visa set to expire, and family back in China, Li made a last-minute dash to return to their nation of birth. Able to board one of the last few flights to China during the initial turmoil of the coronavirus outbreak, Li made it back to Shanghai for a two-week stint in a quarantine hotel.

Though Li had already begun creating OF, the reality of the pandemic began to seep into the recordings. Each of the 12 tracks is a study in horology, using metaphorical sound transcriptions and atmospheric extractions to focus on the temporal relationship between experience and surroundings. Li’s awareness of their own understanding of time became increasingly heightened during quarantine and the emotional involvement found within these new realities informed many of the sounds created.

‘’I tried to portray each song as a short, scattered poem - a moment that I captured to represent each hour.’’

Composed using analogue synthesisers, vocal samples, field recordings and string instruments such as the violin and guqin, Li indulges in moments of grief, panic, healing, cessation, melancholy, vastness, hope, joy and emptiness as they explore the acoustic relations between humans and the many forces of nature.

The art of the Song Dynasty, with its ancient traditions of poetry and timekeeping, were also great sources of inspiration for the album - whilst paintings from the period, specifically those of flowers and birds, are common themes throughout the tracks. Indeed, it is within the vastness of time that the album artwork comes to relevance. The eighth emperor of the Song Dynasty, Huizong, was a revered artist and a scene from his work ‘Finches and Bamboo’ adorns the album cover.

David Allred is a prolific composer and producer based in Portland, Oregon. His new album The Beautiful World captures an enriched, realised understanding of why he composes in the first place. Dedicated to the expression of existential themes such as death, grief, longing and loss, the album’s core theme centres around the suicide of a young girl Lauren, who was a family friend to Allred. For as long as he could remember, Allred always created music out of a kind of dissociative state which he finds alluringly easy to lapse into. A repetition of a motif is usually where he begins composing. But unlike his previous works, The Beautiful World firmly has one foot in reality and is deeply intertwined with Allred’s relationships, past and present. Through his correspondence with Erased Tapes label head and the album’s producer, Robert Raths, over the past year, he came to realise that everyone has a Lauren in a way – someone they’d lost. Through writing to Raths, Allred was able to draw out this thread from the work and position it more clearly as the central concept to this work. The music doesn’t reflect the chaos of trauma, instead it has a therapeutic quality. It was through this dialogue that Allred was able to create what may be his most cohesive body of work to date. The 11 track album unfolds around Oh Lauren, providing the core of the album’s sentiment – how grief returns to us throughout life over and over. Embedded more than halfway through the album, Allred allows listeners to cohabit a meditative space through ambient textures, drones and ballads echoing the vocal sincerity of Arthur Russell, Daniel Johnston and the hypnotic storytelling of Robert Ashley. To truly reckon with The Beautiful World’s emotional position, listeners must understand the importance of the figure of Lauren, and the significance she has had throughout Allred’s life. Lauren’s suicide as a child provided the catalyst for Allred’s lifelong grief. But it was death anxiety and grief itself which provided Allred a link to a universal relationship that people have with each other and the world they live in. Impermanence and loss are the driving force behind all of our connections. The trance-like nature of the album perhaps comes from David Allred’s time sense – particularly when it comes to memory and trauma. Time becomes non-linear rather than a straight line – where one can repeat or return to the same themes but older and in a different frame of mind. Grief continues to manifest itself in life and despite personal growth, there will always be moments where the same feeling will manifest itself again. The album encourages listeners to sit with the concept of grief, and Allred is hopeful they can find comfort and learn to process it in a healing way. The Beautiful World is therefore heavily influenced by Allred’s work in therapy, particularly his relationship to writing music. In the past, Allred would be composing music as a means to dissociate from his life, but the album sees him engaging and connecting more authentically than ever with others and himself. Despite his prolific previous works being made in the company of others, Allred needed to step back from the scenes that he’s worked in to discover what he really wanted to create. Allred concludes: “In the power of love, curiosity, humour, and reconciliation, we give you The Beautiful World.”

Following on from the release of their highly-praised 2020 LP ‘Darkness Brings Wonders Home’, which was applauded by the likes of Mojo, Clash Magazine, Q and many more, alt-folk duo Smoke Fairies return once again to announce the details behind their sixth studio album ‘Carried In Sound’, previewed by the wondrous new single “Vanishing Line”.

Continuing to pursue more of that warm and ethereal aesthetic the pair have cultivated since their earliest beginnings, “Vanishing Line” makes for a wonderfully warm and emotive introduction to their next full-length release. Accompanied by a cinematic video, the new offering tackles the difficult and intimate feelings loss and grief can have on a person and those around them.

A sense of inner strength dominates the new record. In keeping with the times that bore it, ‘Carried In Sound’ isn’t afraid to discuss darkness – but everywhere there is a longing for light. “Although the album has themes of sadness on there, it’s looking at those things from a place of strength,” says Jessica.

Mark Barrott’s 2024 album, 'Everything Changes, Nothing Ends', is a profound and deeply personal exploration of life, love, and loss. Released on Anjunadeep Reflections, this album is a follow-up to his critically acclaimed 2023 release, Jōhatsu (蒸発). Unlike his previous works, this album chronicles a more intimate and emotional journey, reflecting the life Mark had with his late wife, and the harrowing experience of her illness and eventual passing. It stands as both a tribute to her memory and a reflection on the profound impact she had on his life and music. Mark has been a constant innovator throughout his nearly four-decade-long career. He’s best known to some as Future Loop Foundation, the alias under which he created ambient drum and bass in the mid-90s. Others know him for his ‘Sketches From an Island’ series, released under his own name, which played a significant role in the revival of the Balearic music scene. He’s also the founder of International Feel, a label that was instrumental in the bespoke vinyl movement of the 2010s and played a role in bringing DJ Harvey back into the spotlight. Barrott’s work has always pushed the boundaries of genre, and 'Everything Changes, Nothing Ends' is no exception. However, this album is perhaps his most personal and emotionally charged work to date. The album’s creation was born out of tragedy. Barrott began writing music for the album during the eleven weeks of his wife’s illness, using it as a form of therapy to cope with the overwhelming grief and loneliness that followed her passing on January 25, 2023. “I actually started writing music most nights throughout this process—it was therapy to mitigate the loneliness of coming back to a cold, dark winter home after spending the day with her at the hospital,” Barrott explains. What began as a way to process his emotions evolved into a project that would ultimately become 'Everything Changes, Nothing Ends'. The album traverses genres, blending orchestral, ambient, and jazz elements to create a rich and varied soundscape. Each track on the album serves as an audio diary, capturing specific moments from the eleven weeks of his wife’s illness. The music oscillates between intense emotional peaks and more soothing, delicate moods, reflecting the rollercoaster of emotions that come with facing such a profound loss. Ultimately, this album is about acceptance and gratitude for what was, not grief for what could have been. It addresses the fundamental issue that confronts all human beings: life and death. ‘Everything Changes, Nothing Ends’ is out on 29th November on Reflections.

"Panopticon’s ""...on the Subject of Mortality"" is a poignant exploration of grief, written in the aftermath of the loss of one of Austin Lunn's parents. Originally released in 2009 and remixed in 2016, it delves into the emotional depths of human existence, processing death, and the fleeting nature of life. With atmospheric black metal and post-rock influences, the album reflects Lunn's personal journey through loss, deeply inspired by the existential themes of The Seventh Seal.

This LP version comes on a limited coloured vinyl (electric blue) with an insert containing liner notes and lyrics."

"“There are times in life when you’re so present, so fully immersed in the moment that you can catch a glimpse of another universe, of a realm beyond our own,” says Louisa Stancioff. “It might last for a second or an hour, it might come in the midst of bliss or sadness, you might be alone or with a lover, but when it happens, there’s nothing quite like it.”

When We Were Looking, Stancioff’s stunning Yep Roc debut, is full of those moments. Written and recorded through a period of deep heartbreak and uncertainty, the collection is the raw and unflinching work of a nomadic soul who spent stints living in Alaska, California, New York, and North Carolina before returning home to her native Maine, one that holds nothing back in its bittersweet reckonings with pain, healing, acceptance, and growth. Stancioff writes with a cinematic eye here, conjuring up richly detailed stagings for her emotionally-charged character studies, and the guitar-and-synth-focused arrangements are immersive and nuanced to match, thanks in part to the evocative sonic landscaping of producer/keyboardist Sam Kassirer (Josh Ritter, Craig Finn), who proves to be an ideal creative foil on the record. Add it all up and you’ve got a dreamy, nostalgic Polaroid of an album that blurs the lines between indie stoicism and folk sincerity, a lush, cathartic work that hints at everything from Phoebe Bridgers and Arlo Parks to Big Thief and Waxahatchee as it learns to find the beauty in grief and rebirth."

In Cornish slang it is said that things get done ‘dreckly’; that is, not now, not necessarily tomorrow, but, at some indefinite point...in the future...soon...

Fitting then that when Bristol’s Langkamer decamped to their de facto home-from-home in the picturesque south-west seaside town of Falmouth to record their third album in as many years (with an EP thrown in there too) - there was no particular need to rush things: “The process was much slower and more considered for Langzamer.”, drummer/vocalist Josh Jarman explains: “The first two albums felt pretty urgent, and each was finished in about 6 months, but this one feels a lot more deliberate. It’s taken us two years to get this done.”

Equally fitting too that Langzamer kicks off proceedings with ‘Heart of Tin’: the first bars are languidly lugubrious, so deliciously plucked-out and scuzzed-up that they linger in the air like passing smoke, magically, slowing time down to their own assured and steady will. And in so much time, that also feels like no time at all, comes an opening line of such stark, disarming confessionalism as might be found in the David Berman/Silver Jews songbook: “Do you want the good news or the bad news first? // They’re both bad news, but the bad is worse” It’s Langkamer in a nutshell: embattled, heart-on-sleeve Slacker Rock slaked with twinges of fret-sliding Americana, yet deeply embedded in the folk mythologies, colloquialisms and experiences of the band’s West Country roots.

Throughout Langzamer, confronting the listener again and again is this conflict between the band’s breezy, melodic charm, and the threat of something more sinister lurking in the undergrowth. While those more familiar with Langkamer’s oeuvre to date will have already come to know and love their often self-deprecating yet witty lyricism, the songs on Langzamer take this trademark ebullient gloominess to more challenging plains: “Principally this is an album about grief, and everything that entails...” explains Jarman. “in a sense death brought these songs to life.”

This thread is felt no more so than on ‘Salvation XL’. Inspired by a “particularly bad batch of food poisoning I had in Morocco”, Jarman explains, and beginning with the memorable opening line, “Jesus came to me a Burger King in Marrakech”, the band wind their way through the ‘big topics’: death and God.

“This trip was shortly after a few of my friends had passed away, and I think a lot of my thoughts and actions at that time were being influenced by my grief without me realising it.”, he explains, “Whenever I dwell on grief, and how death has given my life a new context, I come back to that. The ongoing battle between agnosticism and atheism. I wasn’t raised in a very strict religious home, but I come from a long line of methodists, and it’s interesting to think about the way theism and religion have shaped my life without me knowing it. I think that’s being channelled on this album a lot. The uncertainty that comes with disbelief.”

Our collective mortal frailties are also felt on lead single ‘Richard E Grant’. With a trademark bittersweetness, a track that begins as an appreciation of the actor’s humorous social media presence unfolds as a study on “finding healthy coping strategies to deal with loss.”. Elsewhere, ‘At The Lake’ - to the tune of mournful, folk-like balladry - explores binge-drinking culture and the troubled association between unhealthy behaviour and creativity. The listener is left in no mind as to the meaning behind the references to James Joyce and Janis Jopin as “souvenirs stolen from the dark”.

With themes as weighty as these strewn across the album’s 10 tracks, It seemed like a particularly astute move then for the band to personally approach Ben Woods, founder of the Golden Dregs, to assist on production duties. Not only would the delicate intimacies of Woods’ main project - see 2023’s On Grace & Dignity for reference - add an appropriate moodiness, but Woods was also born and raised in Cornwall, where the album was recorded; amidst “eating pasties” and breaks by the sea, Woods and the band transformed the vaults underneath iconic Falmouth venue The Cornish Bank into a makeshift studio for a weeks’ worth of recording. Occasionally friends would drop by to lighten the load; Zander Sharp tracking violin on ’Double Island’ and ‘Flight’; Josh Law and Ben Sadler of Breakfast Records labelmates Getdown Services, both of whom contribute to the soul-stirring ‘mountain’ chorus on ‘Aberfan’.

When compared to the brightness of 2023’s The Noon and Midnight Manual, Woods’ influence on the record seems indisputable. On the aforementioned ‘At The Lake’, for instance, which features backing vocals from Woods. Or, most acutely, on the piano strains of harrowing closer ‘Bluff’, a track with such chilling, spectral severity as to effect the band’s most heartbreaking effort to date. While it’s particularly sombre note on which end proceedings, it's also an appropriate one: Langzamer bravely stands tall as their most restrained, matured, and sincere collection to date. And almost by virtue of its impeccable honesty, those moments of sunshine-joy that creep through the cracks feel that much more golden.

Cloudy Baby Blue Vinyl. with you in spirit, the fourth Balance and Composure LP, is an arresting, atmospheric collection of melodic post-punk and towering rock. Due out October 4 on long-time collaborator and Grammy-nominated producer Will Yip's Memory Music, it's the band's first LP in eight years, and a thrilling full-length comeback after their four-year hiatus. It thunders and stirs, dipping between beautiful, crystalline arrangements and punishing, earth-shaking climaxes; in between all, a gripping, near-physical tension crackles and growls and grooves, waiting to rip open. It's an intensely self-reflective record for vocalist and guitarist Jon Simmons, an uprooting and examination of the supports on which a life is built. Preemptive grief, wrestling with god and faith, familial responsibility, familial mortality_these are the things Simmons was carrying while writing this material. They're also things he was trying, for better and worse, to avoid_ hence the record's title. with you in spirit feels like the work of songwriters reaching new heights, exploring new depths. Sometimes, the record itself feels like a band grappling with its own avoidance, its own mortality, and deciding to face these things the only way they know how. Balance and Composure are with us in spirit, yes, but in the flesh, too, for now.

with you in spirit, the fourth Balance and Composure LP, is an arresting, atmospheric collection of melodic post-punk and towering rock. Due out October 4 on long-time collaborator and Grammy-nominated producer Will Yip's Memory Music, it's the band's first LP in eight years, and a thrilling full-length comeback after their four-year hiatus. It thunders and stirs, dipping between beautiful, crystalline arrangements and punishing, earth-shaking climaxes; in between all, a gripping, near-physical tension crackles and growls and grooves, waiting to rip open.It's an intensely self-reflective record for vocalist and guitarist Jon Simmons, an uprooting and examination of the supports on which a life is built. Preemptive grief, wrestling with god and faith, familial responsibility, familial mortality_these are the things Simmons was carrying while writing this material. They're also things he was trying, for better and worse, to avoid_hence the record's title.with you in spirit feels like the work of songwriters reaching new heights, exploring new depths. Sometimes, the record itself feels like a band grappling with its own avoidance, its own mortality, and deciding to face these things the only way they know how. Balance and Composure are with us in spirit, yes, but in the flesh, too, for now.

DREAMLESS VEIL make their debut with the new album, Every Limb of the Flood. The band, featuring members of INTER ARMA, ARTIFICIAL BRAIN, and PSYCROPTIC manifest terrifying Blackened Extreme Metal and offer one of the year's most haunting releases. Every Limb of the Flood is a concept album. Through tracks such as "A Generation of Eyes", "Saturnism", and "Cyanide Mine" Vocalist Mike Paparo and co. task the listener to consider what it would be like for an individual to fully disappear. DREAMLESS VEIL delves into this murk through 8 tracks - dramatic swells, melodic crescendos, and abrasive blast-beat poundings make way to more introspective moments ultimately resulting in pure horror. Paparo explores the concept of corporeal disintegration with pained shrieks and disembodied bellows, resulting in one of the most unchained performances of his storied career. Lyrics for the record show, but don't tell. DREAMLESS VEIL's concept alludes to misery leading to grotesquery - The opener "Dim Golden Rave" throws the listener into an ambiguous time and place: "Grief, spiritless, collapses against the filth-ridden street". The second track, "A Generation of Eyes" follows this narrative by invoking Neil Young, quoting him to the extent of "rust never sleeps." What ensues is a grief so powerful it decomposes from within. The end result manifests in the album closer "Dreamless" - the body is now fully discarded, hinting at a possible enlightenment through a horrible, gruesome process. Sonically, Every Limb of the Flood is a caustic, corrosive journey. Critically acclaimed drummer David Haley flexes some of his most creative drum work to date, dragging the listener through wild tempo changes, breakneck speeds that come to sudden halts, while guitarist Dan Gargiulo (ARTIFICIAL BRAIN) interweaves disorienting guitar madness. Recorded by Brett Bamberger (REVOCATION) Every Limb of the Flood was mixed by Gargiulo and mastered by Colin Marston (Gorguts, Krallice, and more.)

"Moon Mirror, Nada Surf’s new record, has everything fans love and expect from them. Bittersweet anthems that begin quiet but explode into soaring harmonies? Check. Songs that are play-on-repeat heart punches? Check. Songs that are poetic and thought-provoking while also being absolute belt-at-the-top-of-your-voice-with-the-windows-down masterpieces? Check. It’s all here.

For the past 30 years, Nada Surf has had the same core lineup: Matthew Caws, Daniel Lorca, and Ira Elliot. Moon Mirror, their first for New West Records, was produced by the band and Ian Laughton at Rockfield Studios in Wales. For the recording, Matthew, Daniel, and Ira were joined by their friend and longtime keyboard player Louie Lino.

Moon Mirror is a thrilling and moving leap forward for Nada Surf. The songs on the album are true to the human experience—as meaningful and mysterious and sometimes absurd as it is. There’s love, yes, but also grief, deep loneliness, doubt, wonder, and hope. These are not the songs of a band in their 20s. There is hard-won wisdom here, and hard-won belief in possibility—the kind that comes from falling down and getting back up."

Coming out on September 6th on Sharptone Records, Sundiver is Boston Manor’s fifth album and one that represents a glimmering dawn for the Blackpool five-piece. Grown from a seedbed of optimism and sobriety, the LP celebrates new beginnings, second chances and rebirth. With two members recently stepping into fatherhood, hope is baked into every note. “Datura came out of these really dark few years over the hangover of the pandemic,” Henry reflects. “I'd been struggling a lot with drinking and not taking care of myself and bad mental health and stuff. We wanted Sundiver to be the next morning of the following day.” He explains that it feels good this time round to write through the lens of positivity. “The themes began to emerge, of rebirth, spring, dawn, sunshine and then other elements just started to fit into that.” It was during the making of Sundiver that Henry found out he was going to be a dad. This album is a significant one for the band. Originally coming out of the emo and pop punk scene, they’ve explored sonics and genres throughout their career, taken risks and achieved more than they could ever had dreamed of. They’ve grown up as Boston Manor – their lives and the world changing around them. They’re now taking stock, at a crossroads of the band they were and the band they could be.
While writing the album, they revisited the bands that shaped them in the late 90s and early 00s. “I was listening to the music I loved when I was a teenager and I just thought, why don't we make music like our favourite bands?”, guitarist Mike Cuniff remembers with a smile. “So we brought our interests to the table that way. Y2K kind of vibe. There are elements of Deftones, there are elements of Portishead in there, some Garbage, The Cardigans.” He laughs and adds NSYNC to the list of inspirations. From this cocktail of classics comes a dynamic and ambitious record, rich with depth, groove and more hooks than Peter Pan’s nightmares. Lyrics that foxtrot from parallel universes to personal growth, vivid dreamscapes to raw grief. Individually they’re single strokes full of meaning and magic. Together they’re a landscape.
Container (out Feb 15th) is the first single and it’s them at their best – impassioned and infectious. “This song is about the stagnancy of life creeping up on you & how that can bring about change.,” Henry explains, citing Ocean Song by US band Daughters as an inspiration.

The concept of the butterfly effect is present on Sundiver – how small actions can lead to big changes. This is no clearer than on their second single, Sliding Doors (out April 5th). It has the golden sound of late 90s Lollapalooza rock – think Smashing Pumpkins - rebooted with crisp 2024 production and a potent heaviness. In the lyrics Henry wonders, what if?, pondering on what could be. The idea that there are infinite versions of you whose lives splinter off in different directions at every decision you make. That there’s another you out there somewhere right now reading this sentence, and another me writing it. “So much is down to chance and circumstance,” Henry says. “You might catch that train and your life totally changes. Or you might miss it and things stay the way they are.”
Heat Me Up (out May 30th) is defiant and victorious, the audio equivalent of quitting your shit job and driving into the hot summer sun with a head full of dreams. “The lyrics are about love and gratitude,” Henry shares. “Another theme on the record is just appreciating what you have. It’s about not taking for granted the things that you've been afforded.”
There was some natural magic in the creation of Sundiver. They worked with their usual producer, Larry Hibbitt, and engineer, Alex O’Donovan, but instead of recording in London again they ended up in the green pastures of Welwyn Garden City. “Because Larry lives out in the countryside now, it was a way different environment and way different experience recording this time,” Mike remembers. “That contributed a lot to the brighter sound of the record.” The daily barbecues they had during their recording sessions imbued the process with harmony – five old friends spending quality time together and making quality music.
However, the album is by no means one-note. Birthing this new world they’ve created wasn’t without it’s pain, and that can be heard in the heavier moments on Sundiver. What Is Taken Will Never Be Lost is the most-stripped back on the album, a slow rock number seasoned with the downtempo Portishead influence. The heartfelt lyrics are Henry’s way of processing the loss of his grandfather, who died in a hospice last year(?). “It was just fucking horrible. It was always cold when I went there and they were always trying to get rid of me. The song title, What Was Taken Can Ever Be Lost, is the idea of his memory fading at the time because of dementia.” Henry goes onto explain that shoeboxes of photographs, diaries and a legacy is what he’s left behind. “He lived a really rich life and it has really impacted me and my father. His legacy is etched into the fabric of history in a very small way.” This song continues the connection between his grandfather and the band, as his painted face is emblazoned on the cover of the very first Boston Manor EP, Driftwood. As well as emotionally heavy themes, there’s heaviness in the music of Sundiver too. The closing song, Oil In My Blood, descends into an intense shoegaze outro with Debbie Gough from Heriot screaming hellfire. It’s in moments like this that the band show us aggression and fury can be as much a part of positive change as quiet introspection. The last lyrics of the song, “It resets and starts again,” leaves us in contemplation as the final chord rings out.
Touring the US, Europe and Japan over the years makes for an impressive CV, but if you know anything about Boston Manor you’ll know that they’re all about their hometown. Their choice to work with Blackpool-based photographer Nick Barkworth is testament to that. They’ve been working with him since the pandemic. “He captures Blackpool in a light that really reflects the weirdness and quirkiness of the town,” Henry says.” He's got a really good way of presenting that.” For the Sundiver cover, Nick photographed a 30ft tall abstract glass sculpture made by the local artist John Ditchfield. A striking and bewitching monolith that’s familiar to them but unusual to most people. “It has such kind of a gravity and power to it,” Henry describes the sculpture which stands in a field just outside of the seaside town. “It reminds me of either an explosion or a star or a supernova. To me it represents new life, power and radiance.” Boston Manor have got a knack for that - connecting the otherworldly and the everyday, the stars and the streets.
They’re a band known for using their music to make bigger statements about society. This time round they’re harnessing the uplifting power of music, and the communion it creates, as an antidote to the daily doom and isolation. “It seems like absolute chaos out there at the moment,” Henry says. “You’ve got Gaza and Israel, you've got Russia, you've got the fact that 40% of the world is going to have an election this year and increasingly most governments are leaning very far to the Right. The internet is dividing everybody, people are getting poorer and more desperate. It's really, really scary.” They considered trying to tackle the weight of it all in their music. “We could’ve written Welcome to the Neighbourhood on steroids, where it's just absolute darkness and misery”. He’s referring to their 2018 concept album that deals with class, inequality and the bleaker side of Blackpool. “But I think it's really important to write something that people can be immersed in and find some sort of solace in. Somewhere they can escape to from the modern day pressures and everything that’s going on. We’re all in this together.”