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For Louis Johnstone, making music has never been about waiting for the right equipment, the right environment or the right moment. Across more than a decade of work as both Wanda Group and A Large Sheet Of Muscle, the Huddersfield-based musician has built one of British experimental music's most singular bodies of work by embracing whatever happens to be within reach, allowing instinct, improvisation and circumstance to shape the outcome as much as conscious composition.
"'Chinese Benefits' was made over a year ago on an iPhone that had a broken microphone and was on its way out," he explains. "I have made many records after this with clearer sounds. Sharper ideas. That is never the point, though. You work with what you hold in your hands."
Recorded entirely on a failing iPhone 6 that stopped working shortly afterwards, 'Chinese Benefits' isn't a record about damaged technology. It is a record shaped by it. Rather than resisting the limitations of the device, Johnstone allows them to become part of the music itself, where distortion, interference and deteriorating fidelity are inseparable from the recording process.
Across twenty brief but disquieting pieces, corroded spoken word, environmental recordings, abrasive noise and fractured electronics continually emerge and dissolve. Voices drift in and out of range, reverberation stretches everyday sounds beyond recognition, and bursts of white noise interrupt moments of uneasy calm. There are echoes of radio transmissions, field recordings and musique concrète throughout, yet 'Chinese Benefits' never settles comfortably into any one tradition. Instead, it inhabits a space where accident and intention become almost impossible to separate.

That philosophy has long defined Johnstone's work. Through a vast catalogue of self-released recordings on his Umbro G imprint, alongside releases for labels including The Trilogy Tapes, he has consistently favoured immediacy over refinement, embracing imperfection not as an aesthetic but as a practical reality. His recordings are less concerned with perfection than with capturing the conditions in which they were made.
Looking back on 'Chinese Benefits', however, Johnstone's own assessment is characteristically understated.
"Listening back fully, it's quite a nice record actually. Fair enough, I make them and never really listen again TBH. Even better, it was the last Large Sheet Of Muscle record made on that phone with grit and damaged guts."

Like much of his work, 'Chinese Benefits' offers few fixed meanings. Its titles remain cryptic, its voices partially obscured and its structures deliberately unstable. What emerges instead is a deeply personal document of process over perfection, where the limitations of the tools become inseparable from the music they produce, and where the act of making something matters far more than the conditions in which it was made.

Trumpeter, rapper and sonic wanderer Pan Amsterdam has carved out one of the most distinctive voices operating at the intersection of jazz and hip-hop today.

Pan Amsterdam is a musical enigma wrapped in an enduring riddle. His creator is a jazz musician from Houston who’s found fame working with Detroit punk rock God, Iggy Pop, and British indie royalty, Metronomy, and now makes shapeshifting, adventurous hip hop out of the music’s spiritual home, New York.

He’s an irreverent character born out of frustration and named after a misunderstanding, yet one who’s on the verge of releasing his fifth album of truth-slaying, genre-crossing rhymes and beats. The result is a catalogue that feels both deeply rooted in Black American musical tradition and completely untethered by convention.

Pan Amsterdam returns with ‘Panarama’, his fourth full length album and a bold reassertion of his hip hop identity, released via Def Pressé. Created by Houston-born, New York-based musician and composer Leron Thomas, the record finds Pan Amsterdam embracing the harder edges of his sound while continuing to blur the lines between jazz improvisation, abstract rap, punk attitude, and experimental production

Written as a response to contemporary life and the endless cycle of information, conflict and distraction that defines modern culture, ‘Panarama’ unfolds as a stream of consciousness journey through hyper-normalised realities. Across sixteen tracks, Thomas navigates social commentary, personal reflection, absurdist humour, and cultural critique, delivering his observations with the same spontaneity and freedom that have become central to the Pan Amsterdam project

Lead single ‘Szechuan Beef’, produced by acclaimed collaborator 1FS, serves as one of the album’s defining statements. Built around Thomas’ signature free-flowing delivery, the track explores the overwhelming nature of contemporary life, where domestic conflict, social division, entertainment scandals and political discourse become flattened into a constant stream of content.

In Thomas’ own words: “My stream of consciousness style comes quite naturally to me due to the conditioning of scroll down culture where everything, no matter how minor or extreme, is hyper normalised.”

Elsewhere, the track ‘Vanilla Ice’ was written in response to widely publicised ICE killings and the speed at which tragedy is absorbed and forgotten within online culture. Thomas channels the anxiety and emotional disorientation of endlessly consuming information, allowing his thoughts to unfold in real time as social commentary collides with everyday digital noise. The result is both deeply personal and sharply observational, reflecting the fragmented reality of modern life. Other album highlights include the cinematic, Interpol-esque opener - ‘Old Friend’ complete with shimmering guitar lines and an far-reaching introspective, no-filter vocal as Thomas teams up with Nick Zinner (Yeah Yeah Yeahs) and Brad Truax (Interpol) across multiple tracks, often the production traverses left-field indie territory, but always maintaining Pan Amsterdam’s unique musical identity throughout. For the hip hop purists and beats lovers there are plenty of riches to discover from the clever nostalgic sample flips of ‘Cutlery’, the sleepy lofi of ‘Shuriken’ and the wonky LA beat scene / early Flying Lotus era beats of ‘Drunken Noodles’ - all boasting quick witted lyricism. ‘Deep Fried Shiney Things’ explores early electro and industrial sonics while album finisher is an upbeat new wave / indie band cut which sees Thomas take a break from rapping, but of course never letting up on the sharp observations nonetheless


While his previous record explored more alternative territory, ‘Panarama’ marks a deliberate return to rap, as Pan Amsterdam explains:

“I just wanted to do a rap album again.I enjoyed making my last album, but I felt like rapping again. I like to have the freedom to move in between musical worlds that suit the current state I’m in. Frequency accommodating frequency.”

This philosophy runs throughout the album. Tracks move effortlessly between jazz-inflected arrangements, experimental beats, punk energy and underground hip hop aesthetics, allowing ideas to evolve organically rather than conforming to traditional structures. Thomas describes himself as an improviser first and foremost: “I think like an improvisor. That’s how my albums pretty much move. It’s improvisation.”

Featuring additional contributions from Spice Programmers, AnOtter and Mr. Shn, ‘Panarama’ presents a wide-ranging cast of collaborators while remaining firmly rooted in Thomas’ singular creative vision. The record embraces contradiction, humour and unpredictability, capturing fleeting thoughts and observations with the same freedom and spontaneity that define jazz improvisation itself.

A musical enigma wrapped in an enduring riddle, Pan Amsterdam has built a reputation as one of contemporary music’s true outsiders. The project emerged from frustration, experimentation and artistic freedom, with Thomas drawing equally from his background as a jazz musician and his collaborations with artists including Iggy Pop and Metronomy. Operating from New York while carrying the spirit of Houston’s musical heritage, Pan Amsterdam has developed a distinctive voice that sits comfortably between avant-garde jazz, underground hip hop and experimental music.

Reuniting with Def Pressé for ‘Panarama’, Thomas explores what he describes as the more hardcore side of his artistic identity:

“They let me do anything and everything I wanna do so long as it’s on audio, and I need that freedom. What may verbally be perceived as vulgar to one group of people may be very thoughtful and a poignant description of the times that we’re presently in, so I’m glad that I’m part of a label home that understands that.”

Forgotten electronic treasures by composer Ton de Leeuw rediscovered: first release in the Dutch Oscillation Series

Dutch Oscillation Series (DOS) proudly announces the release of a box set featuring the complete electronic works of Ton de Leeuw (1926–1996). This publication marks the first instalment in a new series that brings the history of Dutch electronic music to life for a broad audience. The official presentation will take place on Saturday, 12 September, during the Gaudeamus Festival for contemporary music in Utrecht.

Unique discoveries from the archive. For far too long, twentieth-century Dutch electronic music has remained hidden away in dim archives, only occasionally accessible under optimal conditions. Many compositions have not been heard for decades, perhaps after being presented to an audience only once. For this project, the original tapes were carefully traced in basements and archives, including the mysterious work Chronos, which was rediscovered in the collection of the Netherlands Music Institute (NMI). Even close collaborators of De Leeuw were unaware of the existence of Chronos. Another highlight of this release is the radiophonic oratorio Job (1956), which was awarded the Prix Italia radio prize by broadcaster Rai.

The recordings were digitised by experts at the Institute of Sonology and the Instituut voor Beeld en Geluid (Netherlands Institute for Sound and Vision). The music was then meticulously restored and mastered in the studio of Jos Smolders (EARLabs), in accordance with modern standards, while strictly adhering to the composer’s original artistic intentions.

The edition includes eight works composed between 1956 and 1982. The collection is released as a deluxe LP and CD box set and is also available via streaming and as high-resolution downloads. For an optimal listening experience, originally four-channel works such as Elektronische Studie (Electronic Study) and Antiphonie (Antiphony) are available as special Dolby Atmos downloads, allowing listeners to experience at home the unique spatial sound world envisioned by Ton de Leeuw.

About Ton de LeeuwTon de Leeuw was one of the most influential Dutch composers of the twentieth century. A thinker with a distinctly cosmopolitan outlook, he immersed himself deeply in musical cultures from India, Japan, and Indonesia, among others. His work consistently sought to bridge Eastern and Western musical traditions and concepts.

In addition, De Leeuw enjoyed a distinguished academic career. He served for many years as senior lecturer and director at the Amsterdam Conservatory and was affiliated as a senior research fellow with the University of Amsterdam. His book Muziek van de twintigste eeuw (Music of the Twentieth Century) remains a standard reference work.

“I like to work with a variety of instruments and set ups,” says Mark Van Hoen, sometimes known as Locust or Autocreation but here working under his own name on the excellent Plan For A Miracle, his first physical release of solo music since 2018’s Invisible Threads. ”Sometimes it’s literally in my studio, with all the hardware electronics available. Sometimes the laptop, using software instruments. Some of the tracks on this record were recorded in the desert (Joshua Tree) using a 4-track tape machine and small modular synthesiser set up. Each track was recorded in different location using different instruments, which accounts for the distinction between each piece. It’s also about my own reaction to my environment, and what’s going on in my life at the time.”

The Croydon-born Van Hoen started musical life in the early 1990s, signing for R&S records in 1993 but developing his own, myriad and distinctive style across a range of releases on Touch, Editions Mego and other labels, using a battery of instruments, including analogue synthesizers and taking a number of different approaches to recording, rather than ploughing a single sonic furrow. He has worked on a number of collaborations, including with Nick Holton and Neil Halstead of Slowdive, under the moniker of Black Hearted Brother - their Stars Are Our Home was released in 2013. “I have known Neil Halstead since 1992,” says Van Hoen. “He shared a house with me for a couple of years, and the music I was making and listening to along with clubs I was attending had an influence particularly on Pygmalion, the final Slowdive album on Creation.”

Each track on Plan For A Miracle does indeed sound like a world unto itself, a mini-environment, a weather condition, an ecosystem created for the moment. It’s a collection of tracks recorded over the past few years, released on Bandcamp - despite his apparent absence, Van Hoen works constantly. Opener “Climates”, in its exquisite limpidity, feels like a homage to Brian Eno, one of his most formative influences in his teen years, commencing with Music For Films, which he bought in 1979. “This Is For Them”, feels like a ghostlike throwback to early drum & bass or electronica, reminiscent of his own, earliest outings. “There have been a number of requests from labels to make some more music like my very early releases on R&S,” says Van Hoen. “This is part of ‘letting go’ and realising that there’s nothing less creative about going back to those styles again.”

“Pencil Of Spheres” is something else again, a magnificent, imaginary glass structure, shimmering, refracting, without visible means of suspension, a thing of impossible beauty. “Electric Lights” evokes an abandoned fairground, its lights still pulsating, its music lingering. “The Underpass”, meanwhile, insofar as it reminds of anything at all, is faintly reminiscent of Cluster or Neu’s! West German ambience, the urban mundane rendered magical, the sodium lights, the whitewashed walls. The reverberant, faintly oriental chimes of “Insight” transport us yet again, burgeoning and intensifying.

The landscapes, the skyscapes rendered on Plan For A Miracle feel unpopulated as a rule - but when he does introduce vocal elements, Van Hoen has a history of doing so to spectacular effect - think of “Real Love” from 1998’s Playing With Time, the seductive intonation of its title recurring throughout like a series of massive holograms, echoing, stuttering, breaking up, surging. Here, there are just the faintest of vocals, barely distinct, disquieting. “There’s been a bit of a game changer in recent times,” explains Van Hoen. “AI software that enables you to extract vocals and instrument parts from virtually any recording. That means sampling individual parts from existing sources is no longer limited to the original mix exposing certain parts soloed. The vocal parts I use are from multiple sources and often pitch shifted altered rhythmically and melodically.“ There’s further vocal chatter on “I Really Do”, proceeding at a faster pace as if giving chase, or being pursued - distant, enigmatic. “The Music”, meanwhile, its beat tolling, lost in its own fog of static, features a curious intonation, like the ghost of a lost Walker Brother.

Sadly, the album’s title is in reference to a personal tragedy on Van Hoen’s part - the loss of his wife. Titles such as “I Won’t Give Up”, which faintly reminds of another Eno masterpiece, Another Green World, in its nautical hurly-bury, or the pastoral strains of “Mrs Who”, heavily clouded with sadness, seem to allude to this. “In fact the record was recorded entirely before she passed away,” says Van Hoen, “most of it before she even became very ill. The title was given to the album when it started to look like she wasn’t going to make it beyond a few months. It was something Osho said - “plan for a miracle” - so it was a statement of hope. Unfortunately it was not to be.” Although the album is non-thematic, non-specific in its atmospheres, sound paintings, elegant structures it most certainly stands as a magnificent monument to Osho’s memory.

-David Stubbs.

For fans of Signs of The Swarm, Thy Art is Murder and Lorna Shore The devastating new full length from one of Australia’s household names in the Deathcore genre. ‘The Darkest Side Of Humanity’ is a sprawling, hellish journey into the psyche of mankind, drawing influences from every colour of the heavy spectrum. ANIT have always been a razor sharp prospect, but with this album they seem to have found a powerful amalgamation of everything that made them so fun to listen to. The fat is trimmed, the concept is focused…the songs are HEAVY.

»Ampersand Curve« initiates a brilliant new phase of work by North Manchester’s most elusive artist, best known as Michael J. Blood. His string of ruffkut club bangers, as well as jams with Rat Heart & Samizdat over the past seven years, have made his records a true cult property, and now find him signed to one of the UK’s most foundational techno imprints – more of which later this year.

But under the Sees aegis, he swims in very different waters, following his instincts to use the studio-as-instrument to produce his most impressive, deep-minded work, made from – and for – the heart. Where MJB was all about off-the-cuff club jams cooked for immediacy, his new stylistic switch reveals myriad worlds of influence swirling under the hood, where interrelated spheres of spiritual jazz, dub, ambient, and concrète more clearly light up his rich inner world.

As the story goes, MJB was burgled a few years back and lost most of his studio just as the project was hitting its stride. It prompted a personal review of his practice, re-learning new kit, allowing him to bend the rules. Adopting a sort of first-thought, best-thought approach to composition, the new methodology fuelled a renewed imagination in flux, or what he identifies as Sees: a personalised way of conveying complex emotions. That undoing of musical and mental conditioning opens the walls of his music to vast new horizons. Opener »Ithaca« fathoms sonorous midnight jazz with 10 mins of a plangent, searching sax solo in HD widescreen, like some alternate version to the Blade Runner Love Theme, while a resonant vocoder soliloquy, »Unseem«, reaches into space harmonised between Alvin Lucier and Ron Trent, and »Sheer« chases the devil out of labyrinthine dub dimensions.

The floating dream architecture of »Caprices« caps the LP’s underlying narrative and painterly qualities with a romantic conclusion of blushing pads and shivered, metallic echoes of the subtropical that suggest a coming-to-terms with worries, refreshed and good to go again.

Formed in 1981 by two Rockford, Illinois, and two Brookfield, Wisconsin, natives in the midpoint of Milwaukee, Die Kreuzen (pronounced dee kroyt-zen) chose their name specifically to avoid stereotyping because “no one knows what it means. 'Die Kreuzen' roughly translates out of German meaning 'to intersect' or 'to hybridize,' which is exactly what they did on their five LP's for Touch and Go. Their self titled debut is considered one of the most seminal hardcore records of the early 80’s. As far as October File is concerned, remember that flannel shirt movement in the 90's? This is what those guys were listening to.

¡Hola amigos! ¡Dieciséis guarniciones de chile picante, peyote loco y tequila helado! ¡Hermoso!
If there's one thing I'm good at it's finding records. It doesn't matter where in the world I am, I find records, the best records, the rarest records. And always in Mint condition. I have a knack for it. One place I like to hunt for records is South of the Border, in Mexico. You can find great records there, way out in those pequeños pueblos del desierto. Another great thing you can find is cactus.
Mexico is famous for cactus. You got your Ariocarpus, your Turbinicarpus, your Mammillaria. You got cactus of all kinds, big and small. Little ones like Eplithelantha, psychedelic ones like the peyote Lophophora, and rare ones like Aztekium. But my favourite is Mammillaria humboldtii. Now this one is very hard to find. The villagers over in Hidalgo know where it is, and they go high up in the mountains to look for it.

Now these guys, they take their time. But when they come down from those mountains, they bring back the most beautiful specimens. I really mean it, they're beautiful. They're like clumps of fluffy white golf balls, and they have these cute little pink flowers. Beautiful I tell ya. I pay precio alto for a good specimen of Mammillaria humboldtii.

Recorded when the band members were barely out of their teens, this 1966 masterpiece captures Los Mockers at their rawest and most inspired. Fueled by obsession, talent, and urgency, the group forged a uniquely South American take on British rhythm & blues - wild, melodic, and timeless more than half a century later. Released at the end of 1966, Los Mockers' debut album stands as one of the defining rock & roll records to emerge from South America in the 1960s. While often compared to The Rolling Stones because of Polo Pereira's unmistakable vocal swagger, the band built a sound of its own: rooted in the bluesier side of the British Invasion, yet rougher, fiercer, and unmistakably rioplatense. Recorded in Buenos Aires under modest technical conditions, the album transformed limitations into creativity. The result is a collection bursting with urgency and inspiration - from swaggering rhythm & blues and explosive rock & roll to infectious pop melodies and unforgettable ballads. More than fifty years after its original release, the album remains as youthful, vibrant, and essential as ever.

Power Electronics, for the most part, stays within its lanes of transgressive misanthropy, with a blackened explosiveness of tortured psyches and nightmarish reflections for the darkest facets of the human condition. Since Whitehouse introduced the phrase, concept, and framework to Power Electronics, its authorship has been primarily male. But within the past decade or so, a diverse web of voices - female, feminist, non-binary, queer - has thrust the PE aesthetic beyond that of the tortured male artist. As such, the notion that Power Electronics is synonymous with true crime worship, political ugliness, degraded sexual fantasies, and misogynistic perspectives has been somewhat dispelled (though many still pursue such ignoble agendas).

Enter Ester Kärkkäinen. For close to a decade now, she has developed her own voice, tread her own path, and exorcised her own demons in her unique take on Power Electronics, recording as Himukalt. A Power Electronics album based on the collapse of a relationship is probably not as uncommon as one might think. The sexual violence portrayed through Power Electronics may very well have had its origins in the heartbroken, scorned, or otherwise romantically mistreated. Kärkkäinen gives us two very different perspectives on these themes through two rather different sounding records. There is Last Wish from the plague year of 2020, and there is Torn Asunder: The Half Girl, recorded in 2019. Where the 2020 record is a long-form fever dream of the erotic gone horribly wrong and turned morally questionable, Torn Asunder is the more fractured, yet more concise extrapolation of Kärkkäinen's anger, horror, confusion, and depression from the end of a sexless relationship. She nakedly reveals a psyche that has been shattered, scarred, and broken as she alternates between deadpanned proclamations and barked sermons amidst the harrowing articulation of heavy industrial electronics, laced with shrill feedback tones, disjointed rhythms, and harsh noise outbursts. Torn Asunder stands as a significant milestone in Himukalt's catalogue, but remains one her most rarely heard documents given it was originally published as part of Helen Scarsdale's instantly out of print, 10 cassette On Corrosion boxset. With this vinyl reissue, Torn Asunder can get a proper re-evaluation as one of her strongest works.

Hailing from Las Vegas, Himukalt began in 2016 as a vehicle for Kärkkäinen's noise constructs and crude programming that found references to Puce Mary, Anenzephalia, and Atrax Morgue’s Mörder Machine. Since then, she has maintained a manic schedule with releases for Tesco Organisation, Cloister Recordings, Old Europa Cafe and her own EK Verlag. With the release of Torn Asunder, Helen Scarsdale terminates the mission for the On Corrosion reissue campaign.

Ever since the late 1950s bossa-nova revolution, Brazil’s influence on French music has been undeniable. Pierre Barouh, Georges Moustaki and a vast array of lesser known artists, all made the Musica Popular Brasileira (MPB) an axis of promotion at the service of a cool and metaphysical, modern and mixed Brazilian lifestyle. Some were seduced by the poetic languors of the bossa, some were looking for fun, and others just loved the American hybridization of jazz-bossa, jazz-samba.



What is bossa nova? One of its creators, Joao Gilberto said: "Its style, cadence, everything is samba. At the very start, we didn't call it bossa nova, we sang a little samba made up of a single note - Samba de uma nota so .... The discussion around the origins of bossa nova is therefore useless”. It is nevertheless useful to remember that these magnificent Brazilian songs, which the guitarist describes as samba, were shifted and balanced around improbable chords. "I like things that lean, the in-betweens that limp with grace," said Pierre Barrouh, quoting Jean Cocteau.



With emotion, arrangements for violin and supple guitar licks, bossa nova rapidly changed. A transformation that can be heard in the Tchic, tchic, French Bossa Nova 1963-1974 compilation, the result of a cultural reappropriation, which traveled through the United States and supplemented itself in France.

A musical revolution that has remained significant, bossa nova was born in Rio. From 1956 to 1961, Brazil lived through its golden years. In five years, the country had invented its modernist style. Elected president in 1956, Juscelino Kubitschek de Oliveira, an elegant man with a broad forehead, brandished a promising slogan: "Fifty years of progress in five years". He quickly got to work. Not worried about increasing debt, he launched the project for a new federal capital, Brasilia, designed by the communist architect Oscar Niemeyer. Volkswagen opened state-of-the-art factories and created the “fusquinha”, the Beetle. In Rio, the Vespa made its first appearance. The Arpoador Surf Club crew run into the “girl” from Ipanema, Helô Pinheiro - the tanned garota ("chick"), between a flower and mermaid, who at 17 walked by the Veloso bar, where the fiery author and composer, Tom Jobim and Vinicius de Moraes, were getting drunk on whiskey. From then on, bossa symbolized cool.

In 1958, Joao Gilberto recorded Chega de Saudade, which the directors of Philips denied, calling it "music for fagots". The marketing director, who believed in it, secretly pressed 3000 78-inch vinyls and distributed them at schools around Rio, creating a tidal wave.

American jazzmen then took over. In particular, trumpeter Dizzy Gillespie and guitarist Charlie Byrd. In November 1962, the Brazilian Ministry of Foreign Affairs funded a "Bossa-Nova" concert at Carnegie Hall in New York, inviting the genre’s pioneers. Unprepared, the show soon turned to disaster. But the troupe was invited to the White House by Jackie Kennedy. The first lady loved "the new beat" and in particular Maria Ninguem, a song by Carlos Lyra, later covered by Brigitte Bardot.

In Brazil, the 1964 military coup quickly ended this euphoria. The destructive atmosphere that ensued pushed many Brazilian musicians to leave, if not to exile. Thus, Tom Jobim, Sergio Mendes and Joao Gilberto arrived to the United States. In New York, Joao Gilberto met saxophonist Stan Getz. At the time, he was married to the Bahianese Astrud Weinert Gilberto, who had a German father. She had never sung before, but she knew how to speak English. Getz therefore asked her to replace her husband on The Girl From Ipanema. The Getz/Gilberto record with Tom Jobim on piano, was released in March 1964. Phil Ramone, the "pope of pop" was in charge of sound.

Bossa nova arrived in Paris through the classic “guitar-voice” channel (Pierre Barouh, Baden Powell, Moustaki…) But France loved jazz and Paris had already welcomed its American contributors. All these good people were to pass through Saint-Germain-des-Prés. The cabaret l'Escale became the Mecca of Latin American sound where one could find Pierre Barrouh and his friends, such as the Camara Trio, samba-jazz aces, whose only record was published by the Saravah label. With a band strangely called Les Masques (a band that included Nicole Croisille and Pierre Vassiliu, among others), the Camara Trio recorded an interesting Brazilian Sound, including the track Il faut tenir which is present on this tasty compilation of rarities.

Other enlightened musicians can also be found on the compilation, such as Jean-Pierre Sabar (songwriter for Hardy, Auffray, Leforestier ...) and the French pop rock organist Balthazar. In 1975, Sabar recorded Aurinkoinen Musiikkimatka on a Finnish label, which featured the crazy Vai, Vai, included on this record. We are now following the footsteps of Brazilian electronic musicians such as Sergio Mendes, Eumir Deodato or Marcos Valle who created funk and disco sounds on their keyboards and synthesizers. A style that influenced Véronique Sanson when she wrote Jusqu’à la Tombée de la nuit in 1969 for Isabelle de Funès, the niece of Louis and a great friend of Michel Berger - Sanson did end up singing this track on her 1992 Sans Regret record.


The pinnacle of exoticism and travel, Sylvia Fels’ Corto Maltese includes bongos, sea mist and ocean sounds. The title was taken from Jacky Chalard’s concept album written in 1974, Je suis vivant, mais j’ai peur (I am alive, but I am scared), based on Gilbert Deflez’s science fiction novel.


However, bossa nova extended the scope of popularity. "In the 1970s, I was a fan of Sergio Mendes, Getz / Gilberto. I fell in love with this music that I knew because I had been an orchestral singer, " explained Isabelle Aubret, who in 1971 delivered a composite record of covers by the very funky Jorge Ben, Orfeu Negro, Tom Jobim, Vinicius de Morais and Jean Ferrat. "I recorded this album for Meys Records in Paris, far from Brazil, with wonderful musicians, François Raubert, Roland Vincent, Alain Goraguer...". The latter wrote the arrangements for Casa Forte, a very percussive title borrowed from Edu Lobo, one of the initiators of the bossa who spent time in California. "Jazz and bossa came together and produced very rhythmic music. I love singing, it allows me to dream, to have fun, to feel a high on stage, and these songs brought me joy, made me swing, my singing felt like a dance.”


The world tours of French singers and their desire for the tropics, often brought them to Rio with its hills, forests, caipirinhas and tanned bodies. There are surprises though, like this Iemenja (Iemenja is the goddess of the sea in the Afro-Brazilian candomblé religion). Not unlike the composer and musician Jean-Pierre Lang, based in Sao Paulo, Claire Chevalier taught Brazil to Brazil. In 1970, the singer and painter published a 45-inch vinyl, Mon mari et mes amants (My husband and my lovers), under the improbable pseudonym of Clarinha (little Claire). She was then living in Rio, with her husband, Joël Leibovitz, who founded a band called Azimuth, and who owned a record label specialized in "sambas enredos" songs for samba school parades.


For its B side, she asked Pierre Perret to come up with lyrics for a song composed by Carlos Imperial: "Oh goddess of the sea, o goddess Iemenja, I bring a white rose to adorn your long hair ..." . "Perret came to see us, and we had fun, remembers Joël Leibovitz. We wrote Lemenja for fun, we recorded it at the Havaí studio, behind the Central do Brasil the central station. Erlon Chaves, the arranger who worked with Elis Regina, joined us" adding his share of Afro-Brazilian percussions and funky brass to the mix.

There is a common misunderstanding in Franco-Brazilian history: that bossa, admittedly hedonistic, is perceived as funny, even though the poets who wrote the texts are often philosophizing on the human condition. Its French interpreters pull it towards a carnival inspired universe, far removed from its fundamental essence. Thus, Jean Constantin covered the famous Samba da minha terra, an ode to the art of samba written by the classic Bahian composer Dorival Caymmi, renaming it with the enticing title of Pas tant de tchi tchi pompon: "On your pier there is no tchi tchi / when you arch your back, you know everything is alright ”(lyrics by Gérard Calvi). This expedited bossa aims for the absurd, but retains a certain elegance.

Indeed, Jean Constantin was not an idiot, the rather large man had a huge mustache and liked fantasy, (Les pantoufles à papa, Le pacha, inspired by cha-cha-cha-cha, salsa and jazz) but he was also the lyricist of Mon manège à moi interpreted by Edith Piaf, the composer of Mon Truc en plume by Zizi Jeanmaire and the soundtrack of François Truffaut’s 400 Blows. Le Poulpe, published in 1970, from which this bossa is extract, was arranged by Jean-Claude Vannier, an accomplice of Serge Gainsbourg’s Melody Nelson. In short: "There is enough of samba / By looking at the parasol / Because my poor cabeza / Is going to die in the sun".

Even the American actress Marpessa Down, who was at the heart of the bossa nova revolution with her role as Euridyce in Marcel Camus’ film Orfeu Negro, winner of the 1959 Cannes Palme d'or, fed the clichée with Je voudrais parler au petit cuica - "Tell me how you manage to always make people want to dance / It's true, I must admit that I cannot resist your magic" - in consequence, once can hear the cuica, a little drum inherited from the Bantu.


But bossa nova had many angles. Societal, of course, pushing actresses who were symbols of women's liberation like Brigitte Bardot, Jeanne Moreau, or Sophia Loren to engage in the exercise of accelerated bossa. In February of 1963, Sophia Loren made a record in French in Rome, Je ne t'aime plus, featuring the song De jour en jour, a bossa written by two Italians, Armando Trovajoli and Tino Fornai, which was released a little later by Barclay. Bossa accompanied the 1960s, a decade of moral liberation. Ann Sorel, who interpreted La Poupée des favellas, caused a sensation with L’amour à plusieurs, a provocative song written by Frédéric Bottom and Jean-Claude Vannier. As for the actress Andrea Parisy, she displayed her bourgeois cheekiness in Marcel Carné's Les Tricheurs before interpreting Les mains qui font du bien. And Magalie Noël, the friend of Boris Vian, who sung Johnny fais-moi mal, was hired to sing Une énorme Samba, composed by Alain Goraguer (arranger to Gainsbourg, Bobby Lapointe and Jean Ferrat) with lyrics by Frédéric Botton.

But in the end, of what wood is bossa nova made of? The answer is given by Christianne Legrand, daughter of Raymond the conductor, and sister to Michel the composer: "With me, with jà" - jà means "immediately" in Portuguese. In 1972, the singer, an expert in vocal jazz and a member of the Double Six, published Le Brésil de Christianne Legrand. Two songs included on the Tchic Tchic compilation that demonstrate how bossa, jazz, funk, rock, etc. work like a swiss army knife: the music is used to denounce broken systems, or miracles, HLM et ciné roman, Cent mille poissons dans ton filet, two songs from the O Cafona soundtrack, a successful telenovela broadcast, at the time in black and white, on TV Globo. The first was adapted in French by the fighter and friend of the Legrand tribe, Agnès Varda. The second is content with a play on words, jostling them into a summer fun.



Véronique Mortaigne

*ZELDA SUITES (THE LIVE ALBUM) : A MODERN JAZZ REINTERPRETATION OF THE MUSIC FROM ZELDA, RECORDED LIVE!*

WRWTFWW Records continues its collaboration with Belgian jazzman Casimir Liberski with another Zelda-themed rendition, following his celebrated Z Suites album. This time it's a full-on live session - Casimir Libersk ReTRio's Zelda Suites (The Live Album) is a heroic Hyrule jazz adventure available in half speed mastered DLP in a heavyweight sleeve with obi.

Casimir Liberski reimagines the golden era of video game soundtracks with live jazz versions of Zelda favorites The Legend of Zelda (1986), A Link to the Past (1991), Link's Awakening (1993), and Oscarina of Time (1998) - and tons of Easter eggs! Dancing between nostalgia and avant-garde, the Brussels-born pianist and composer crafts a sonic world of pixelated folklore where melody and improvisation coexist in harmony.

Zelda Suites (The Live Album) is the origin story of Liberski's acclaimed Z Suites album. He explains:

The live recording of Zelda Suites (The Live Album) preceded the studio recording that later comprised ReTRio's first album, released on WRWTFWW entitled The Z Suites. This live recording was captured at the end of a tour in Germany and Belgium, in Osnabrück, in a small, intimate venue. This new album therefore contains only "hot first takes," imbued with all the emotion that permeated our playing that evening. In a way, it's perhaps more closely linked to my initial vision for the project: to "take the iconic themes from the Legend of Zelda games that shaped my childhood and perform them live through a jazz lens". For me, the conditions of live performance are the very essence of jazz. There's a frankness of being present, in the very moment the music is created and, one might say, listens to itself, that draws the musicians into a fervor and audacity that often transcends them. The magic of jazz comes at this price. Unapologetic, as they say in English. This album reveals a perhaps more authentic and unrestrained side of our playing. No excuses.

Again, long live Hyrule jazz!

Points of interests

For fans of Zelda, jazz, video game music, Nintendo jazz, modern jazz, piano, Ryo Fukui, Brussels, fantasy, the 80s, the 90s, nostalgia, vintage consoles, Hyrule, half speed mastered vinyl, adventures, the pleasure of feeling alive, and appreciating the small pleasures of life in a world that's going crazy.

Limited edition vinyl release of modern jazz re-interpretations of Zelda music, recorded live!

Los Amantes Oscuros" brings together for the first time on vinyl the recordings made between 1968 and 1969 by pioneers of Bolivian garage rock, Loving Darks, originally released on their three EPs. A selection packed with proto-punk covers of hits by the Stones, Cream, Tony Hatch, and more-often surpassing the originals in attitude and power. Their original records are highly sought after and are virtually impossible to find in any condition_ If we had to choose the Latin American country where the rawest and wildest garage and beat records of the '60s were recorded, Bolivia would be one of the clearest contenders. For some strange reason-surely related to the country's extreme conditions, its high altitude, and the influence of huayno-Bolivian recordings are truly unique and fascinating. A multitude of bands sprang up under the influence of groups-mainly British-that dominated the international charts. From the ashes of two of Bolivia's most important seminal bands, Los Black Byrds and The Turtles, two new groups fundamental to the history of Bolivian rock would be born: the mythical Climax and the legendary Loving Darks. "Los Amantes Oscuros" brings together for the first time on vinyl the recordings this band made between 1968 and 1969, originally released across three EPs on the local Lyra label. Their repertoire is packed with covers such as 'El Adivino,' a sped-up reinterpretation of 'Fortune Teller,' or even 'Algo de títere,' a reworking of 'Jumpin' Jack Flash.' They also adapt the classic 'Call Me' by Tony Hatch and 'Toad' by Cream, from whom they borrow the cover of one of their most iconic albums for the artwork of their EP "Complicado." In fact, 'Complicado'-a proto-punk version of the Rolling Stones' 'Complicated' and their signature track-is a perfect example of how a Bolivian band could outdo the British giants in attitude and power. Their importance lies in having paved the way for new sounds, styles, and aesthetics within a still-emerging scene. This compilation is a joint release with the Peruvian label Rey Record and includes an insert with notes on the band's history. First time vinyl reissue.

On her second album, Sawt El Doumouh (The Sound of Tears), Beirut-based Sandy Chamoun summons flickers of light from sadness. Influences from the Arabic tradition of Tarab – one of the first styles Chamoun learnt to sing – and polyphonic Cantu are reinterpreted and reimagined through her voice and electronics, synths from her SANAM and Ghadr bandmate Anthony Sayhoun, and live percussion from Ali Hout.
Marked by its times, the record isn’t what Chamoun had planned. “I wrote the lyrics between October 2023 and September 2025,” she explains. “The plan was to write about nature, since the album’s concept was inspired by Cantu, a tenor Sardinian ritual that celebrates humanity’s victory over nature. I intended to visit several places and regions in Lebanon and write a track for each, but after the genocide and the war in Lebanon, everything changed.”
“I chose the title because many mornings during this period I woke up crying silently. I remember a dark story from school: a teacher yelled at a small boy while he was crying and told him to cry without making any sound. I feel we are still living in that condition in the region — forced to die or suffer without making any noise.”
Sawt El Doumouh is a gorgeous refusal to be silent. It opens with a booming drum. Over keening autotune Chamoun’s pure voice cuts through, burying the despair to illuminate rays of hope. On “Ward W Shok” a shuffling swing gives way to a righteous organ interlude. The title track sees a choir of Chamoun’s vocals lull and lap. Drums arrive and indignation stirs, what’s mournful begins to stride.
Chamoun’s tracks are as beautiful as they are defiant. Why write songs in the face of horror? Perhaps because music can hold onto something better. By turning to song, Chamoun catches the hopeful glints and sparks that persist and strive outside the terror. In SANAM and Ghadr she often borrows lyrics from Arabic writers through the centuries, listening to what their words say in the present while reminding us the world can and has been different to how it is now. Solo she writes her own words, and the way her songs alternately soar and sigh evokes hopeful pluralities and suggestions of other, kinder realities. Even hearing someone cry is a connection to humanity.
It’s a possibility conveyed in the album’s most jubilant moments. “Shahed” is an incandescent dance of percussion and levitating synths. “I wrote it after I saw a photo of a small boy on a horse on the beach in Gaza,” Chamoun recalls. “I imagined a fantasy where the boy lives in the water and watches the terrifying reality on the shore, trying to bring water to put out the fire. Shahed is the witness who lives far from the shore, enjoying the water and trying to help. You can hear this duality: the percussion is desert-like, while the vocals and synths evoke the feeling of water.”
Although it comes from darkness, in Chamoun’s music we can hear faith in something beyond it.

A defining transmission in the history of Skylax Records. Originally released across different moments of the Skylax catalogue, these recordings are now assembled as the final chapter of the Skylax House Explosion series — a project exploring the architecture, memory and survival mechanisms embedded within house music culture. The record opens with Move D’s “Outer Rim 64”, originally released in 2018 as part of the Skylax House Explosion narrative. Suspended between motion and distance, the track establishes the conceptual perimeter of this final chapter — a space where rhythm no longer functions only as propulsion, but as orientation. Here the listener stands at the outer edge of the dancefloor’s architecture, where structure persists even as its original social conditions begin to disappear. The sequence continues with Hardrock Striker’s “Motorik Life (DJ Sprinkles Dub)”, originally released in 2011. Rather than operating as a conventional remix, the Dub reinforces the motorik continuum of the original composition, transforming repetition into endurance. DJ Sprinkles preserves the infrastructural skeleton of the dancefloor — its capacity to sustain bodies through duration alone, without narrative resolution or emotional release. The record culminates with “Motorik Life (DJ Sprinkles Mountain Of Despair Remix)”, one of the most politically explicit works ever associated with Skylax Records. Through the relentless repetition of the phrase “mountain of despair,” Terre Thaemlitz dismantles the traditional function of dance music, transforming remix culture into structural critique. Referencing Martin Luther King Jr.’s famous metaphor, the remix removes the promise of redemption and leaves only the architecture of struggle. The dancefloor is no longer presented as escape, but as a temporary condition of survival. Together these recordings reveal house music’s true function: not to resolve despair, but to create temporary conditions in which bodies can continue to exist despite it.

AFTER THE DANCEFLOOR

you cannot preserve a dancefloor
by archiving its sound
because the dancefloor was never sound

it was bodies
finding temporary protection
inside systems designed to erase them

house music was never a genre
it was a survival strategy

when the lights disappeared
the structures remained
and so did we

Chins For Lefty is the debut album and first recording by Gichard, a new duo chronicling the absurdities of end-stage capitalism and mouldering social rituals from their vantage point in Glasgow, Scotland. Recorded primarily in the band’s home studio straight to tape, Chins For Lefty combines gorgeous, ramshackle melody, DIY kosmische punk, drum machine + synth and, in vocalist/lyricist Lisa Jones, an absurdist commentator on the human condition as it navigates the anxieties of the modern world. Instrumentalist Chas Lalli’s swirling music accompaniment stitches an evocative mix of musical styles, the ragged wind beneath the lyrics’ wings.

Although the duo first collaborated in their previous group Dragged Up, their disparate musical and artistic backgrounds make for an alluring mix in Gichard. Lalli has spent the last 20 years in the Glasgow underground, most notably in the noise rock group VOM, while Lisa Jones’s practice was in poetry and spoken word. Beginning as co vocalist in her previous band, in Gichard her lyrics are centre stage; the vision concocted alongside Lalli amounts to a total world-build.

Chins For Lefty scans almost like a novel, with each track elucidating a skewed universe that bears only some resemblance to the one you and I partake in. Like all works of fiction Gichard’s songs are rooted in reality and the lived experiences of its authors, but here characters are exaggerated, social mores and habits are pulled apart to reveal their inherent alienness. Universal emotions are laid bare, the bright light of anxious examination searching out every hairline fracture in our relationships. Distorted and cracked, the mirror that Gichard hold up to our world is also pretty damn funny.

Opener Cholesterol Test launches an expansive, cosmic guitar and synth intro that belies the Tascam-tape recorder it was recorded onto, like a Chromatics cut substituting anxiety for overt sexuality. Here Jones intones an apology to a non-responsive recipient, in the medium of a long voice note forensically deconstructing an interaction from the night before. Over punk guitars and shuffling, lo-fi drum machine splutters, the narrator in Asking The Apes “prefers things to people” before being taken hostage in the city zoo to confess an obsession which consumes the protagonist, ending with the immortal two liner “I sleep in a cocoon of old newspapers at the end of your street / And I think I have been fired from my job,” On album standout Posthumous Hologram, the narrator is faced with a human simulacra, in this case an undead pop star; the face of the encroaching technological singularity. Yes, it does requests, it can do My Way in 200 different language options. But what are the implications? While you’re left pondering, the alternating deadpan verse delivery and undeniably catchy chorus keep you company.

By the time Break Up With Johnny Dogbirth rattles into view, the band are satirising a suburban inanity blown up to cartoon proportions, soundtracked with a drawled musicality that recalls Rowland S. Howard’s post-Birthday Party balladeering. This approach is furthered on Human Resources: over an angular guitar+bass track, Jones’s short story recalls Dry Cleaning’s erudite lyrical post punk. On Soft Face, Lalli’s guitar and drum machine are swathed in echo and delay, as Jones dissects dating rituals with a west of Scotland drollness. Hamming It Up brings a porcine perspective in a short story that begins with the line “I was breastfeeding discreetly in the service station. She didn’t mind.” What follows is a passage punctured with canned laughter and a narrative involving tribute acts, modern farming techniques.

Brilliant first single Your Private Hell closes the album, the closest the group get to earnest perhaps, filtered through a surreal central Scottishness. While Your Private Hell might seem like a sardonic take down of romance, perhaps it’s the very distillation of love in all its awkwardness, selflessness and weirdness. Here there’s a distinctive Glasgow-ness to this doomed romance: the protagonist falls for an outsider, offers them cheap jarred hot dogs and carbolic soap (the infamous, excoriating soap dished out in schools and government buildings throughout Scotland), offers to cover up a murder, stalks them in the all-night Spar. It’s a short story of intrigue, murder and the irresistible pull of self-sacrifice to share in someone else’s suffering. If that’s not love, what is it? You can see this vision mapped out in black and white on their video for 'Your Private Hell'.

Josh Mason’s new collection, "Wave Salt +7," emerges from an oblique origin. Unearthed from a dormant hard drive, it documents a set of work sessions only partially recoverable, their original continuity and intent fractured by time and technical failure. What remains is a constellation of mercurial gestures that proves, against all odds, to be entirely consonant with Mason’s ongoing musical concerns.

In a sense, the very condition of partiality proves generative, with elision operating on multiple levels - structural, sonic, and archival - shaping both the music itself and the circumstances of its (re)appearance. Phrases surface only to be truncated or displaced, hovering at the edge of resolution, and transitions are implied rather than fully enacted. Absence functions not as a deficit, but as an important compositional resource.

Central to the album’s sound is a distinctive use of vocoding. Deployed not to simulate vocal presence but as a tool for tonal sculpting, it yields a shifting lattice of smeared harmonics, angular melody, and attenuated noise. Sounds are pressed through one another, their edges softened, shifted, or selectively erased, producing surfaces simultaneously articulated and porous. Rather than reconstructing a lost whole, the album posits a mode of listening attuned to gaps, interruptions, and unstable forms. Even so, in keeping with Mason’s broader practice, this music remains grounded in melodic logic and a distinctly human scale, ensuring that its fragmentary structures register not solely as experiments, but as expressions of proximity and feeling.

San Diego’s Mrs. Magician has always bent surf music and punk into something delightfully off-kilter — sun-soaked, hook-heavy power pop with a lyrical fixation on life’s darker undercurrents. Their 2012 debut, Strange Heaven, was a nihilistic pop statement that grew into a cult classic. The 2016 follow-up, Bermuda, sharpened the edges with punchy, nervy songwriting. Both records were produced by John Reis (Rocket From The Crypt, Hot Snakes, Drive Like Jehu), cementing the band’s place in Southern California’s underground lineage. Now, in 2026, Mrs. Magician reemerges with their long-awaited third LP, Spiritual Hangover. Recorded at Dave Grohl’s Studio 606 and Singing Serpent Studios with producer Christian Cummings, Spiritual Hangover finds songwriter Jacob Turnbloom trading youthful nihilism for something more reflective. Where earlier records wrestled with existential dread through anthemic defiance, this new collection embraces uncertainty — an admission of ignorance in the face of the human condition, paired with a genuine longing for connection and understanding. The humor remains. The hooks are sharper than ever. But the perspective has shifted.

These songs feel less like a declaration of dominance and more like a celebration of fragility — an acknowledgment that life is fleeting, confusing, and still worth enjoying. The album features Andrew Montoya (drums) and Mark Rivera (bass) of The Sess, Ian Fowles (guitar) of The Aquabats, and John Reis (guitar). Spiritual Hangover channels the bright urgency of late-’70s power pop through a distinctly Californian lens — warm, melodic, and irresistibly alive. “Super fun, well crafted, with great melodies. It gives me that late ’70s power pop energy I loved so much as a kid. Every track has something joyous to grab onto. In a world full of bleak news, Spiritual Hangover is a warming blast of California sunshine.” — Walter Schreifels (Gorilla Biscuits/Quicksand)

In recent years, Midge Ure has spent his time playing live and not has time to fully immerse himself in the studios creating music To that end A Man of Two Worlds is his first album of new material in 12 years. Well worth the wait, the album is a formidable collection of outstanding music, divided into two clear parts.

The first half, World One: Music, consists of eight instrumental pieces, while the second half, World Two: Songs, features eight vocal songs. This concept was partly inspired by the time Midge spent during lockdown listening to instrumental music whilst presenting THE SPACE on Scala Radio. Hearing music that rarely finds a home on mainstream radio, he set about making something without lyrics, where the melodies had to speak for themselves. The eight vocal songs which form the second part of the album, came to Midge as the world reopened. A more divided world, in many ways a much harder and less empathetic one. Sharing an atmosphere with the preceding instrumentals, these songs are incredibly sparse and meditative, and whilst they are subtle, with some songs dealing with the frailty of the human condition, underlying many songs reflect Midge's concerns for the discord infecting world today.

Oceanine, Jolanda Moletta’s third album and her first for Beacon Sound, is a powerful and ethereal statement of artistic community. Expanding on her previous work, each track represents a collaboration with a different female vocalist, with the foundational elements being generated entirely by her own voice. By turns haunting, enchanting, and inspiring, you won’t want to come up for air once you’ve been pulled under. Representing a
musical practice that is distinctly feminist, this is an album with a longer view in mind, to an age when the altars were to goddesses and women were centered as powerful beings representing the earth’s cycles of regeneration and renewal. Oceanine then, in all its beauty, can be viewed as an album of survival. It is deeply transportive, accessing something that lies within all of us. As the late, great Lithuanian folklorist and archaeologist Marija Gimbutas noted, “We must refocus our collective memory. The necessity for this has never been greater as we discover that the path of 'progress' is extinguishing the very conditions for life on earth.”

Jolanda Moletta is a multimedia artist and one-woman electronic choir. She creates wordless compositions through extended vocal techniques, integrating wearable-controlled live processing, alongside symbolic visuals. Moletta considers her performances to be a collective ritual and creates her Sonic & Visual Spells following the cycles of nature and the moon. Jolanda's 2022 critically acclaimed album Nine Spells was released on the Ambientologist label, followed by Night Caves on Whitelabrecs in 2025. Moletta’s artistic practice is a radical and spiritual journey through sound art, ritual, and the symbolic archaeology of the feminine.

Oceanine is inspired by sirens, water nymphs, and the timeless call of the sea. At its core lies Jolanda’s deep, lifelong connection to the Mediterranean Sea and to the ancient and modern myths and folklore that have emerged from its waters. Growing up by the Mar Ligure, Jolanda was surrounded by stories carried by salt, wind, and waves: legends of sirens, echoes of ancient voices, and the sea as both origin and oracle. This intimate relationship with the Mediterranean is not merely a backdrop, but a living source that shapes Oceanine’s emotional, symbolic, and sonic world.

Each track features a different female vocalist, creating a rich tapestry of voices, styles, and perspectives. This artistic choice not only broadens the album’s sonic palette, but also deepens its narrative core: celebrating the power, beauty, and mystique of feminine energy through myth, history, and sound.

The entire album is built exclusively from the human voice, processed and layered, yet always remaining voice, and nothing else. For each piece, Jolanda invited every vocalist involved to contribute a raw stem: a short, unedited melodic fragment of just a few seconds, inspired by the album’s themes. These intimate vocal seeds became the foundation of each track: the guest artists’ voices appear as brief, melodic stems, while the entire surrounding “orchestral” fabric is created solely from Jolanda’s own layered and processed voice. In this way, Jolanda’s voice becomes the Ocean itself, embracing, absorbing, and carrying the sirens’ calls within a vast, immersive soundscape. Every song is a unique expression of the feminine experience, revealing its depth, complexity, and emotional range, echoing the call of the sea and the many faces of the siren archetype.

The figure of the siren has transformed across centuries. In myths of Ancient Greece and Rome, sirens were hybrid beings, part woman, part bird, whose irresistible songs lured sailors to their doom. During the Middle Ages, the image shifted toward the half-woman, half-fish figure, often associated with temptation and danger. Historically, the voice of women has often been feared. Sirens were considered harbingers of misfortune not simply because they seduced or destroyed, but because they were powerful liminal beings.

In Ancient Greek, sirens functioned as psychopomps: figures who existed between worlds and guided souls, especially between life and death. Their songs were believed to carry forbidden knowledge, including prophetic insight and the ability to reveal truths about fate and the future. The danger of the sirens lay in what they revealed: knowledge that humans were not meant, or ready, to hear.

Oceanine confronts this legacy head-on. The voices heard throughout the album are not merely beautiful: they are dark and luminous, wild and enchanting, magical, soothing, dreamy, and at times fractured or distorted. They whisper, lament, beckon, and enchant. Like sirens, they skim the surface of the water and sink into its depths, hovering on the edge between tenderness and danger, vulnerability and power. They rise toward the sky, dissolve into mist, and return as echoes charged with raw, elemental emotion: voices that seduce, warn, mourn, and remember. They refuse to be reduced to decoration.

Alongside the album’s release in May, Oceanine will also unfold as a visual and performative work through a short art film. The film includes a live session recorded inside a sea cave facing the Mar Ligure, the very coastline where Jolanda spent her childhood, dreaming of sirens and listening to the sea as if it were speaking directly to her. This site-specific performance reconnects the music to its place of origin, allowing the voice to resonate within stone, water, and air, and transforming the cave into both a sanctuary and a threshold between myth and reality.

What if the sirens’ songs were considered dangerous because they carried another truth, an ancient truth long forgotten?

Oceanine embraces the idea that we are still deeply woven into myth. Though we may see ourselves as rational and modern beings, our world is saturated with ancient symbols and archetypes, often distorted, simplified, or stripped of their original meaning. And if those symbols are allowed to shift, if the mirror once held by the siren becomes an invitation to look beyond appearances and into what has been obscured, then we may finally uncover a deeper truth and reclaim the voice that was always ours.

Oceanine is not just an album. It is a reclamation, a spell, and a call from the depths.

'The 1975 return new album, ‘Being Funny In A Foreign Language’, which will be released on 14th October via Dirty Hit.

The band’s fifth studio album was written by Matthew Healy & George Daniel and recorded at Real World Studios in Wiltshire, United Kingdom and Electric Lady Studios in New York.

Formed in Manchester in 2002, The 1975 have established themselves as one of the defining bands of their generation with their distinctive aesthetic, ardent fanbase and unique sonic approach.

The band’s previous album, 2020’s ‘Notes On A Conditional Form’, became their fourth consecutive No. 1 album in the UK. The band were named NME’s ‘Band of the Decade’ in 2020 after being crowned ‘Best Group’ at the BRIT Awards in both 2017 & 2019. Their third studio album, ‘A Brief Inquiry Into Online Relationships’, also won ‘Mastercard British Album of the Year’ at the 2019 ceremony.

DOODSESKADER clearly haven’t had enough of redefining boundaries – they’ve only just gotten started. Tim De Gieter and Sigfried Burroughs return on April 3rd, 2026 with their third full-length album, The Change Is Me, a rollercoaster that can only be described as the unstable lovechild between witch house, hip-hop, industrial dream pop, and stadium rock that can’t decide if it wants to watch the world burn or shout from the rooftops that we need to save it. Their combination of grungy 90s melodies with distorted synths, sludgy bass, hard tuned vocals, rapping, singing, and explosions of undiluted rage at the current state of the world leave you wondering just exactly what it was you smoked last night, and if it was too much or not enough. The Change Is Me is an album that grabs you by the arm and asks if you’re ready to go on a grand adventure, then pulls you into its chaos before you can say “yes” or “no.”

Tim and Sigfried aren’t just breaking the boundaries between genres; they’re breaking out of their own Year cycle, a path they had laid out for themselves at the band’s inception in 2020. Up until now, the duo had set out to document their “journey to getting better” through writing one album each year: Year Zero (2020), Year One (2022), and most recently Year Two (2024). After spending eight months throughout 2024 and 2025 writing, recording, producing and mixing Year Three, the band scrapped the finished record entirely. Playing shows while simultaneously navigating the process of mixing Year Three created a sort of disconnect – the people that they were when they wrote that record and the people that playing shows made them become were no longer one and the same. “We’re people with faults and strengths, and we realized we needed to accept it. That’s equal parts bleak and liberating. If you’re so focused on self-improvement, you can’t even applaud yourself for how far you’ve come,” the band explains. “This project is meant to be a document of us and of the human condition, not a self-improvement handbook designed to keep us all stuck on what may or may not have happened to us or because of us in the past.”

DOODSESKADER chose instead to embark anew on a week-long creative journey in Tim’s own Much Luv Studio with one goal in mind: to make an album that captures who they are right now. Finally writing everything together in the same room for the first time in years, the process of bringing "The Change Is Me" to life was captured by Diana Lungu in their latest documentary, "Now I Know You See Me", out December 2nd, 2025.

"The Change Is Me" marks the beginning of DOODSESKADER’s shift into a more positive era, both musically and conceptually. Over the course of the 40-minute record we hear the two friends unite in a fight against a world that grows more and more disappointing, a concept made crystal clear in tracks like “Celebrity Culture Simp Farm,” “It Keeps On Stinging,” and of course the album’s epic closer “Suffering In Technicolor.” While their previous albums saw them trying to outrun their pasts and arrive at a better version of themselves, here the search for some external or internal revelation that will “make them better” is no more. It’s been replaced by the realization that change isn’t something we force: it’s gradual, and more importantly, it’s something that’s already there – we just need to reach out and accept it.

The band’s live appearances over the last several years have been instrumental in shaping their ideology. On stage is where the duo find connection; not only with the audience, but also with each other. Their sold-out release shows at Ancienne Belgique (2022) and VierNulVier (2024) have proven that they are one of Belgium’s must-see acts. Abroad, their energy has translated into a month-long EU/UK tour with French band Alcest in 2024, as well as appearances at festivals such as Roadburn Festival (NL), Eurosonic (NL), Hellfest (FR), Mystic Fest (PL), Jera On Air (NL), ArcTanGent (UK), Fluff Fest (CZ) and more.

"The Change Is Me" is out April 3rd, 2026 on DOODSESKADER’s own label, 45 Records.

Salix is a bold new departure for modular synthesist Loula Yorke, seen here using an antique reed organ to explore the ancient roots of willow trees in magic, myth and medicine, as well as inviting another musician into her recording studio for the first time, clarinettist Charlotte Jolly.

The EP forms a sonic archive of a singular instrument: an antique free reed organ left behind by a previous encumbent of Asylum Studios, (the artists' co-operative in Suffolk where Yorke's Truxalis labelmate and life collaborator, Seiche, has a studio space). The organ is in poor condition and fascinatingly, painfully detuned. Yorke's recordings bring out its host of unusual quirks exacerbated by age and neglect: the powerful rhythmic creaking of the wooden treadles; the bone-shaking resonance emanating from its body at specific pitches; unexpected exclamations of harmonic collision from within the carcass redolent of a human voice; the piercing, shrieking whistles of broken reeds, and the powerful timbres unlocked via Yorke's experiments with various combinations of stops.

The three tracks that form Salix are inspired by a local weeping willow tree, a constant companion photographed over the course of a year. Boughs caught in a gyre. A maiden in mourning. Branches that gesture in the wrong direction. A tree turned upside down. A hand-woven willow basket, an old technology to gather and store. The journey of a lovelorn bard through the underworld, a bundle of willow under one arm for protection.

For the opening track, The Carrier Bag Theory of Fiction, Yorke recorded herself playing a simple unaccompanied improvisation on the organ, the only ornamentation being the processed sounds of the keys being struck and returning to their positions.

For Bundle of Styx, a spell of protection is cast and then broken. Yorke invited virtuoso clarinettist Charlotte Jolly into the studio to test combining the breathy textures of both brass and natural reeds, the instruments uniting and obsuring each other in turn during this one-take improvisation. The organ's unpredictable sharpened tunings take centre stage here, with Jolly using them as a point of departure to conjure a set of peerless harmonic improvisations live in the moment. Throughout the improvisation, Yorke, a self-taught musician, unpracticed on the organ, supports and challenges, freely admitting that she's not always sure what effect her decisions to move up and down the keyboard or pull out certain stops will have. Jolly's genius lies in her ability to meet and build on every uncertain pitch thrown her way, saying of the experience, "I love that Loula isn't classically trained, I can't predict at all what she's about to do."

For the final track, With the Red Dawn, Yorke has come up with another unique combination of textures, this time bringing her own specialism in modular synthesis to the fore. A ten-minute reed organ drone characterised with ever-shifting bass swells and overtones is layered with tuned sines, often shudderingly wave-folded, that ebb and flow both in intensity and harmonic colour according to the duty cycles of eight interrelated LFOs. These recordings are collaged with Yorke's singing voice and a langorous, ascending sequence across two octaves on Jolly's clarinet, all arranged to form a cohesive whole far greater than the sum of its parts. Smatterings of untuned percussion and a fragment of a conversation between the duo left in the final mix cements Yorke's unprecious DIY aesthetic into the release.

At its heart, Salix is like watching the wind in the willows; hundreds of thousands of identical tiny leaves moving in confluence on its branches; at once one thing and many things; moment-to-moment our perception makes out different individuals parts within this expanse of texture, before sinking back into the whole.

As collaborative projects often do, 33 has in time found a more fixed form, a kind of structure that turned it from a loose collection of collaborators gravitating around founders Bill John Bultheel and Alexander Iezzi into something resembling more of a traditional band. Not that there is anything conventional in their creative process tho, nor in the music itself… Nontheless Tripolar - their second album and first for Haunter - seems to take them closer to song territory than ever before.

The (progressive) graduation of multi-instrumentalist Cem Dukkha and vocalist/clarinet player Ivan Cheng from collaborators to full-time members has brought 33 to a more refined awareness of their possibilities as a creative unit, although their compositional process has retained a high level of spontaneity and musical madness. Tripolar was in fact assembled by editing hours of improvisation that Bultheel, Iezzi and Dukkah recorded with no specific endgame in mind. The sessions saw them exchange a variety of acoustic, electronic and electric musical instruments: percussions, guitars, strings, piano, hurdy gurdy, synthesizers and even CDJs as a tool of live sampling manipulation.

By molding the pieces into what they are now, the band managed to concoct some beautiful vignettes of contradictory mental and emotional states, as sonically playful as a renaissance fair happening within a broken timestream. Cheng’s lyrical and vocal contributions helped them coalesce even further into proper songs, adding a melodic presence that’s at once seductive and uncanny. But vocal duties are often ceded to guests, namely Danish pop-neoclassicist Astrid Sonne, Kenyan metal guru Lord Spikeheart, Irish goth raconteur Olan Monk and Japanese body-poet Golin.The amount of different sounds arranged into each of the tracks produces a unique sense of awe and bewilderment, a testament to the incredible talent and craft the musicians have employed into putting together such a broad range of influences and approaches into a coherent and extremely effective musical journey.

An equally erratic thematic thread seems to run through all the tracks, one ultimately preoccupied with mental health and its ramifications. Without turning the project into a concept album, 33 and their collaborators have sprinkled it with references to personality disorders and mental conditions that are all too relevant to the contemporary age, reflecting on the lineage of human inner life. A wide display of lyrical and musical tools is employed to explore these themes, ranging from Sonne’s expressionist depiction of ADHD in the opener, to Cheng’s queer-themed reinvention of an Irish murder ballad in closing track ‘Babymusicc’. Tracing lateral trajectories for introspection, Tripolar is not only highly captivating, but it ultimately sounds esoteric in the best possible way: progressively revealing layer after layer of incredible aural magic, its true meaning living in the form and in its manic scope of energies.

Siren Selector presents the first voyage of Remy Solar, as the producer takes a break from composing sound system exclusive dubs to expand his horizons with this by-turns lush, textured, menacing and plaintive album.

‘Heavy Terrain’ emerges from the depths of a lifetime inside the dub fraternity: reared on a potent diet of Lee Scratch Perry and Augustus Pablo, The Disciples and Digital Mystikz, it’s an album which stuck its head in a bass bin in an abandoned bingo hall in north London before striking out on a musical road-trip to imbibe sounds and rhythms from further afield.

The album opens with the militant drums and ethereal pads of 'Sound in the East' before being bookended by two mixes of 'Star Trail', where unformed musical space and time cross uncharted distances to coalesce into the beginning of direction and rhythm. The lush deep house chords and drilling synths of 'Lila #3' summon ghostly presences, while in its counterpart 'Lila #7' layers of melody rise and hang like mist before dissipating in percussive heat. 'Dakhla's’ swelling and retreating drones fade into swirls of drums. In the eponymous 'Heavy Terrain', off-beat keyboard chops respond to each other from uncertain depths while electronic horns pulse across miles of open space. 'Empty City 'sees walls of sound coalesce and fragment, falling into bursts of white noise.

Remy Solar explores a deliberately constrained hardware set-up to create the primordial conditions of trance, locking down a rhythmic foundation while semi-improvised excursions form and reform above it. It’s an album that takes the listener on a journey between order and chaos, past and future, all the while underlaid by a counterpoint of cavernous bass lines and echoing percussion, yang and yin, shade and light.

Michel Houellebecq is, of course, well-known for his novels, translated into more than 40 languages, and his Goncourt Prize (The Map and the Territory, 2010), but perhaps less so for his debut album, released exactly a quarter of a century ago on Tricatel label. One can sense the influence of Serge Gainsbourg's L'Homme à la Tête de Chou, a disillusioned Procol Harum and a world-weary Burt Bacharach hovering over Houellebecq's poems in Présence Humaine, a now cult classic album orchestrated by Bertrand Burgalat and the musicians of Eiffel. Twelve thousand copies sold and a few concerts later, the writer decided (or so we thought) to bid farewell to the stage, only to generate more media attention though his literary success. Frédéric Lo is, of course, known as an exceptional lyricist, composer, arranger, and producer, author of a sublime fourth solo album (L'Outrebleu, released last March) and a master of collaborative work, notably with Bill Pritchard, Peter Doherty and Daniel Darc. Initially, Michel Houellebecq and Frédéric Lo met for the tribute album that the latter was planning for the tenth anniversary of Daniel Darc's death, but their recording of "Psalm XXIII" was, to their great disappointment, rejected by the label and therefore did not appear on the final version of Cœur Sacré (2023). Fortunately, every cloud has a silver lining, and the two men decided to take their collaboration a step further. Lo decided to set the writer's words to music, in his studio in Pantin. Raw, stripped-down music draped in electronica, adorned with piano and antediluvian drum machines, often minimalist, sometimes repetitive, provides the perfect backdrop for twelve tracks that question and reflect on humanity's past and future (if indeed there is one). Reflections on the human condition, 21st-century style, a work of speculative fiction conceived by two eternally modern "young lads," Souvenez-Vous de l'Homme (Remember Man) is an album that might occasionally evoke The Stranglers' La Folie, and, given the title, that's probably no coincidence. But above all, it's a hypnotic and melancholic album, uncompromising and captivating. Most importantly, it's an album like no other.

First-ever official reissue - 180g black vinyl edition

In the late 1960s, a distinctive musical movement began to flourish in Italy—while also gaining momentum abroad, particularly in France and the United Kingdom. Known as library music (or sonorization), this genre consisted of genuine music libraries created specifically to accompany audiovisual productions such as television programs, commercials, documentaries, and films.

Produced under conditions of complete artistic freedom, these recordings often defy clear categorization, as they are not tied to any single musical genre. This creative independence allowed composers—frequently working in total anonymity—to experiment boldly, crafting avant-garde and forward-thinking sounds that, in many cases, anticipated musical trends that would only become widespread years later.

Oronzo De Filippiis known not only for his contributions to library music, but also for being part of the projectThe Braen's MachinealongsideAlessandro Alessandroni, one of the most significant figures in this field.

Meccanizzazione is a fully instrumental album—as is typical of the genre—literally dominated by the distinctive sound of the harpsichord. The record essentially alternates between two main compositional approaches: on one hand, more accessible and "friendly" tracks with a refined jazz-lounge and bossa nova flavor; on the other, darker and more hypnotic pieces, whose repetitive structures vividly evoke the rhythms and mechanical pulse of the industrial world.

8-page lyric / drawing booklet, glossy poster, download card (inc. mp3s), white inner paper bags, sticker on cover.

After 7 strange years of relative silence, and 13 years of being a band, Dog Chocolate have returned with ‘So Inspired, So Done In’. Their fourth album is their most focused, cohesive and song-y yet. They still sound like a bin full of wasps, but now the bin has double-cream or a Viennetta or something at the bottom. While many of the 16 songs on here barely make it past the 3-minute mark, each one is bursting with all the textures and colours of an office cupboard: full of old sweets, fluorescent markers, and multiple ways to fix paper together.

Thematically, a lot of ground is covered, with songs tackling subject matter as diverse as overheard conversations, healing fungal toenails, the Rogerian concept of the Actualising Tendency, bronze age living conditions, dreaming songs into being and human-plant relations. Work (and anti-work) is a recurring theme, as is artistic inspiration and burnout. Dog Chocolate revel in the mundane and incidental, to explore bigger, existential questions. Recorded and mixed by POZI’s Toby Burroughs and mastered by Sofia Lopes, ‘So Inspired, So Done In’ charts a long and confusing period in the band’s collective life, marked by major life changes, losses and shifts, colouring the band’s trademark frantic, daft and anxious energy with a contemplative glaze. Dog Chocolate continue to investigate their internal and external landscapes with playful curiosity, frustration, silliness and empathy.

Pre/history of the band: In the early 2000’s Andrew (vocals), Rob (guitar, vocals) and Matthew (guitar, vocals) played together as teenagers in South-East London-based maximalist, costumed surrealist punk band Yeborobo. They met drummer Jonathan playing with his instrument-swapping masked band Limn at art space Utrophia in Deptford. Later, when both bands had split, Dog Chocolate formed with a shared desire to make a band that was simpler than their theatrical past: small amps and light guitars, no more than 2 drums at any one time, a keyboard no longer than a ruler and a shared ethos… “it’s about giving a shit, but at the same time not giving a shit, but not ‘whatever’, not giving up never!”. The band floated the term “pencilcase punk” to describe their jumbled, colourful, dense and instant music.

Dog Chocolate built on this early scrappiness, bedding into their sound over several albums. Their first “Or” (2014) was a split with Ravioli Me Away, soon followed by “Snack Fans” (2016) and “Moody Balloon Baby” (2018). Along the way they played gigs with bands as wide ranging as Deerhoof, No Age, Dry Cleaning, Palm, Daniel Wakeford, Shopping and Pozi.

With a tendency to converse with each other both lyrically and musically cultivated over many years, the members of Dog Chocolate bounce off each other, respectfully disagree, try to make each other laugh and share some of their most vulnerable feelings with each other. ‘So Inspired, So Done In’ is their own unique offering during these unsteady times: a language of friendship translated into songs.

Synthpop, minimal wave, post-punk, goth, new romantic - fans and critics alike have dug deeply into their vintage thesauruses to describe the beguiling work of Nation of Language. And if you can't precisely define the band, that's the point. Frontman Ian Richard Devaney has become prodigious in expanding what synthesizer-driven music can evoke, such that his output is as much an extrasensory journey as it is an all-too-human destination. With that experience in mind, he wrote the band's fourth album - the spectral, spacious Dance Called Memory - in the most humble of ways: chipping away at melancholia by sitting around and strumming his guitar. Nation of Language's first two albums, Introduction, Presence (2020), and A Way Forward (2021), came as pandemic godsends: gorgeous, relatable soundtracks to our collective doldrums. But it was their last LP, Strange Disciple (2023), that catapulted the group from cultural standouts to critical darlings, with the album being named Rough Trade's Album of the Year. With that release, Pitchfork wrote that the band "are learning what it means to get bigger and better." This is Devaney's calling: soulfully translating individual despair into a comforting, collective mourning. The single "Now That You're Gone," which radiates and reverberates with a devastating wistfulness, was inspired by witnessing his godfather's tragic death from ALS, and his parents' role as caretakers for this ailing friend. At its heart, the song is a reflection of how friends can be there for each other, and also highlights a theme throughout the record: the pain and lost promise of friendships that fall apart. On Dance Called Memory, the band once again collaborated with friend and Strange Disciple producer Nick Millhiser (LCD Soundsystem, Holy Ghost!). "What's so great about Nick is his ability to make us feel like we don't need to do what might be expected of us," says synth player Aidan Noell, who, along with bassist Alex MacKay, rounds out the Nation of Language lineup. They imbued Dance Called Memory with a shifted palette - sampling chopped-up drum breaks on "I'm Not Ready for the Change" for a touch of Loveless-era My Bloody Valentine or smashing all of the percussion of "In Another Life" through a synthesizer to cast a shade of early-2000s electronic music. Ultimately, the hope was to weave raw vulnerability and humanity into a synth-heavy album. "There is a dichotomy between the Kraftwerk school of thought and the Brian Eno school of thought, each of which I've been drawn to at different points. I've read about how Kraftwerk wanted to remove all the humanity from their music, but Eno often spoke about wanting to make synthesized music that felt distinctly human," Devaney says. "As much as Kraftwerk is a sonically foundational influence, with this record I leaned much more towards the Eno school of thought. In this era quickly being defined by the rise of AI supplanting human creators I'm focusing more on the human condition, and I need the underlying music to support that_ Instead of hopelessness, I want to leave the listener with a feeling of us really seeing one another, that our individual struggles can actually unite us in empathy."

Athens-based percussionist and sound artist Yorgos Stavridis makes a stark, physical debut for Heat Crimes with »Solo Percussion«, a set of one-take improvisations that approach percussion as a field of friction between body, objects, space, and sound. Working with membranes, metals, found objects, and feedback systems, Stavridis foregrounds timbre, texture, and spatial presence, collapsing distinctions between instrument, environment, and recording apparatus.

Microphones and speakers are treated as unstable instruments in their own right, introducing opaqueness, resistance, and feedback into the performative chain. Scrapes, low-end pressure, brittle metallic chatter, and sudden bursts of resonance emerge through close bodily engagement with surfaces and materials, each piece documenting a specific configuration of objects, gestures, and acoustic conditions. Performed and recorded live, »Solo Percussion« captures sound in its most contingent state; situational, physical, and irreducibly present. Eschewing narrative, pulse, or formal development, the record sits squarely in Heat Crimes’ lineage of process-led, uncompromising sonic research, where listening becomes an active, tactile act and sound itself is the primary event.

Intricate structures with an intertwining of spontaneity and randomness, meeting the diverse genre influences of the band members from mediaeval music to shoegaze to noise. That is Unravel, the new album, and first in six years, from Czech band Manon Meurt.
"Unravel reflects the different stages of dissociation, a person's thoughts, observations - whether of the environment or of oneself - and admiration for the beauty and cruelty that nature mirrors," multi-instrumentalist and lyricist Kateřina Elznicová says of the album.
Produced by Eddie Stevens (Freakpower, Zero 7, Moloko, Roisin Murphy) the album was pieced together from recorded fragments, meticulously pieced together. The title Unravel refers to the development of the band, unravelling what they are to find the full potential of their music as well as uncovering the layered nature of the songs and emotions.
"Eddie Stevens’ approach to recording was a big surprise. We understood that there was no one right version of the songs. Each of our themes carries a certain energy that can manifest and blossom in many ways. Compared to previous records, the vision of each member was much more evident, while we learned not to cling to our individual ideas of a signifying break or a nu-metal bounce at the end of an ambient song. The main thing was a common concept," adds keyboardist David Tichý on creating the seven songs on the record.
Abum producer Eddie Stevens describes the collaboration, “Each album is an adventure. You do some preparation, check the route over and over, prepare for any eventuality that your packing space and imagination will allow, plan some places to stop and rest en route, places to eat, sleep, then consider the challenges - the ice wall, the summit, even just finding your way in foreign land. But despite all that planning, you can never really say for sure what’s going to happen, what unexpected path you might take, what strangers might invite you in for a cup of tea and to what ends. So it was making Unravel with Manon Meurt and engineer and studio owner Lukas Martinek at Svárov studios and of course back home in the relative safety of my studio. Musicians who quickly became friends showed me more than I showed them, people with ideas, with creativity seeping from their pores. Music making the right way: no blinkers, no walls, no preconceptions, no barriers, no rules. What a pleasure, and what a magical, technicoloured,
kaleidoscopic album we’ve made together, “
The combination of industrial material with plant motifs in the work Untitled_1 by Ukrainian artist Liza Libenko, which adorns the cover of Unravel, strongly attracted the band. After all, floral motifs have always been close to Manon Meurt's music. Libenko, a student of the Academy of Fine Arts and a finalist of the prestigious Austrian Strabag Artaward International Prize, has recently been working on overcoming the narrative boundaries of the canvas, the paintings "attack"the viewer. Sunflowers are a powerful symbol of life and the sun; in Libenko's paintings they are black and burnt, serving as an allegory for contemporary conditions. The work was photographed by photographer and artist Marcel Rozhoň, and the final processing of the Unravel album was done by graphic artist Zuzana Malá.

A chance meeting in Mexico City set Points of Inaccessibility into motion. When Ibero-American composer Rafael Anton Irisarri crossed paths with Dutch media artist Jaco Schilp at MUTEK in 2024, a conversation about how technology shapes perception revealed an unexpected common ground. Schilp invited Irisarri to a spring 2025 residency at Uncloud, the Utrecht-based collective he co-founded, where Irisarri's sound began to take form amid an environment shaped by Schilp’s visual research.

The Uncloud studio was located inside the former Pieter Baan Centre, a forensic psychiatric prison where suspects of violent crimes were once confined. Its long history of silence and containment shaped the atmosphere in which the project developed. Within this setting, Irisarri coaxed long bowed-guitar tones through a network of pedals and looping systems. The raw gestures thickened into a vaporous and architectural field of sound. Schilp processed the material through a custom point-cloud software patch that produced images in continuous flux. The visuals flickered, dissolved and reformed like memories that resist coherence, functioning as a digital Rorschach that reflected the observer’s own perception.

Amid these spectral echoes, the project evolved into an examination of how the past persists within present signals. Memory endures as residue and interference, continually shaping perception even when its source has faded.

Schilp’s visual process required a continuous stream of sound in real time. Irisarri improvised throughout the residency, generating material that allowed the visuals to develop in parallel. Once back in his New York studio, he began shaping the recordings by carving pathways through the improvisations and mapping selected passages into MIDI. This process allowed him to build outward from the bowed-guitar material with minimal overdubs, adding Prophet 5 textures, Moog bass and strings that expanded the harmonic field while keeping the original performances at the center. To refine the structure, Abul Mogard provided editorial input, working with Irisarri’s stems to guide transitions and strengthen the overall pacing. The material, originally created under conditions of immediacy and constraint, evolved into a fully realized work through careful revision, patience and sustained reworking.

The title engages the geographic concept of the Poles of Inaccessibility, locations defined solely by their distance from all surrounding points. Irisarri adapts this idea to the conditions of digital life, where new forms of inaccessibility arise through the informational enclosures that structure perception. What appears to be a fully connected network often produces a deeper kind of separation, one shaped by the filtering logic of the systems that mediate experience. In this sense, the digital sphere mirrors its geographic counterpart. We inhabit spaces saturated with signals, yet the possibility of genuine contact becomes increasingly remote.

At its core, Points of Inaccessibility considers what can be understood as the new rituals of capitalist realism. Irisarri uses the term digital shamanism to describe the forms of simulated connection that organize contemporary life. These systems promise comfort through algorithms, influencers and AI interlocutors, yet they often reproduce the same conditions that generate loneliness in the first place. What appears as connection becomes the echo of connection, a sequence of gestures that imitate solidarity while withholding it. Like the geographic poles, these rituals are defined by distance. They pull us into environments where everything is illuminated, yet meaningful proximity becomes increasingly rare. In this sense, the work approaches a hauntology of the present, a reflection on futures that have stalled and intimacies that have been thinned by the algorithmic infrastructures that surround us.

This thematic tension unfolds across the album’s four movements. Faded Ghosts of Clouds introduces the work with textures that rise and dissipate in slow cycles, creating an atmosphere that resists clear definition. Breaking the Unison occupies a pivotal position in the sequence and focuses on the moment when the individual and the system fall out of alignment. Its shifting patterns trace the scattering of signals that once suggested connection, revealing the instability at the heart of contemporary perception. Signals from a Distant Afterglow forms the center of the album and features vocals by Karen Vogt, whose presence enters the sound field like a fragile transmission shaped by distance and delay. The closing piece, Memory Strands, follows motifs that appear, recede and briefly intersect before returning to quiet. Across these movements, the album outlines a landscape in which emergence and disappearance continually inform one another.

Listening to Points of Inaccessibility is an encounter with a sound field that is constantly in flux. Elements surface briefly, shift position and recede, creating a sense of motion that resists stable interpretation. The music moves between closeness and vastness, carrying traces of memory while withholding a clear point of resolution.

The album’s visual identity completes the project’s conceptual arc. In Mexico City, where Irisarri and Schilp first met, Daniel Castrejón transformed stills from Schilp’s point-cloud visuals into the cover image. The final artwork captures a single suspended frame of the digital material, a moment extracted from a field that is normally in constant motion. Its surface recalls the texture and abstraction found in the work of Catalan artist Antoni Tàpies, where material presence and erasure coexist within the same plane.

What emerges is a work that examines the tension between technological systems and human presence. Points of Inaccessibility asks whether connection is still possible within environments shaped by mediation and delay, or whether we have become isolated points within the very networks that promise proximity. What possibilities for relation persist within environments organized by algorithms and interruption? And how are we meant to understand presence when so much of it is constructed at a distance?

Points of Inaccessibility will be released on BioVinyl on February 6, 2026, with audiovisual performances planned throughout 2026.

Mastered by Stephan Mathieu
Artwork by Jaco Schilp
Design and layout by Daniel Castrejón
Artist photo by Iulia Alexandra Magheru.

With a career spanning over 50 years, Earl Sixteen is one of the major artists in the history of Jamaican music. He has been produced by some of the biggest names in the business, from Studio One to Jah Shaka, Lee ‘Scratch’ Perry and Mad Professor. Earl Sixteen has always stood out for the accuracy of his performances and the smooth depth of his voice.

Today, in collaboration with Switzerland most active studio group of the last decade, The 18th Parallel, he presents his new single ‘My Son’, written by the genius lyricist Marc Ismail. The lyrics touch on the harsh reality of the younger generations in Jamaica who grow up in precarious conditions and, in some cases, have no choice but to turn to crime. Here, the elder's voice urges young listeners to take a hard look at themselves and weigh the consequences of their decisions.

The message is enhanced by Earl Sixteen's performance and the extraordinarily powerful rhythm section of The 18th Parallel. B side features a scorcher dub by Westfinga: 'Hear My Dub'. A masterpiece of contemporary roots reggae!

Emerging from the Ukrainian darkness in 2011, Kaosophia blend the raw energy of black metal with dissonant tones and emotionally resonant melodics. Their music is a sonic tapestry woven with intricate guitar riffs, powerful vocals, and haunting arrangements.
The band recorded their first demo “Towards The End” which was self-released by them in 2012 on a limited edition cassette.

2013 saw their first album “The Origins of Extinction” released on CD and cassette and the band followed up with many shows across Europe. 2017 saw Kaosophia expand and deepen their abyssal sounds even further with the monumental “Serpenti Vortex”, with lavish cover art produced by occult master artist Dávid Glomba, it rose Kaosophia to the upper echelons and forged their name as one the best and most formidable black metal acts in the scene at the time.

After a long period of silence, bloodletting and transformation, Kaosophia return with their darkest, most mature and powerful work to date. 2025 sees the return of Kaosophia with their new album “Beyond The Black Horizon”.
A dark and malevolent opus that explores themes of darkness, existentialism and the human condition. Delving deep into the complexities of the mind, the fragility of existence and Death itself.
Kaosophia preach orthodox ideas of Satanism in the most straightforward and ruthless form - total unconditional worship. Self-destruction as the overcoming of human essence and the cognition of pain to gain access to another level of reality's perception.
It is time to enter the end of days and venture beyond the Black Horizon…

From Ace Records’ early days, there’s always been a place in our hearts for music’s feminine side. A year having flown by since the release of our last compilation spotlighting the US girl group sound of the 60s – think castanets, anguished teen sirens, Svengali-esque producers and mini-sonatas about dreaming, dancing and moody boyfriends (sometimes deceased) – means the time has come for a new vinyl-only volume.

As 1968 drew to a close, the golden age of girl groups had seemingly been and gone: the Shangri-Las, Ronettes and Chiffons, for example, hadn’t had a hit record of note since 1966. Then along came ‘Condition Red’, a cleverly produced psychodrama performed by the Goodees, who grace the front cover and open the top side of this new comp in dramatic style. Over on the generally more soulful second side, Les Chansonettes are first up with ‘Don’t Let Him Hurt You’, a big production stomper written with Martha & the Vandellas in mind.

Elsewhere, Beverly Williams performs the very Lesley Gore-like ‘One Way Street’; ‘Go Away’ by the Murmaids (of ’66) is a lavishly produced number with a chamber pop vibe; ‘What Did You Do Last Night’ by the Drake Sisters was recorded in Phase-O-Phonic Sound; the lyrics of Denita James’ ‘Wild Side’ call to mind genre classics such as ‘He’s A Rebel’, ‘Out In The Streets’ and ‘Chico’s Girl’; and the Sweathearts close the show with a gorgeous harmony-filled update of the mid-50s oldie ‘Eddie My Love’. As usual in this series, the inner sleeve features a picture-packed 4,000-word track commentary by long-serving compiler Mick Patrick.

Another previously unreleased gem from Jah Life's mid 80s sessions at Channel 1 with the Gifted Roots Band, which we return to after a long while. Absolutely killer rhythm with brilliant added melodica, and youthman Patrick Cool at the mic. This rhythm is truly one of our favorite unreleased finds to date. The other cut with Nathan Skyers and this one by Patrick Cool are each backed with different dub mixes.

Within the world of theatrical archives, there are the known, the unknown, the forgotten, and the lost. Demetrio Stratos' stage compositions for Teatro dell'Elfo's groundbreaking 1979 production Satyricon - directed by future Oscar winner Gabriele Salvatores - represents one such lost artifact now wondrously returned to life. This radical sonic work, integrating extended vocal techniques, Balinese instruments, and pioneering whale song recordings, stands as the final masterpiece of Italy's most visionary vocal experimenter, lost for over four decades until Die Schachtel's extraordinary recovery. As Stratos himself explained: "The musical operation performed on Satyricon is particular: the composer-musician here does not compose, but borrows ready-made music, vivisects it, melts it, intervenes and recomposes it on magnetic tape. The structure of the signifier, from a morphological point of view, presents itself as a conceptual collage." The music is obtained by utilizing compositions and musical elements from David Behrman, Joan La Barbara, Balinese Ketyak, Turkish Nay flute, Yugoslavian bagpipe, Pan flute, and whale song, with synthesizer interventions by Paolo Tofani. It began as part of something known - a wild, immersive theatrical event that inaugurated Teatro dell'Elfo's historic venue in 1979, was almost entirely forgotten, becoming lost and then unknown. The original production marked a radical departure for the company: no longer popular street theatre, but a dark, immersive, sophisticated spectacle that transformed their space into a rough wooden arena with a sand floor. Demetrio Stratos, working with Paolo Tofani (fellow Area member), created an entire sonic universe that subverted every conventional function of stage music. Their composition wasn't accompaniment, but autonomous sonic dramaturgy that integrated extended vocal techniques, archaic electronic elements, Nay flutes, Balinese instruments, and pioneering whale song recordings. The result was a three-dimensional soundscape that enveloped audiences, creating an otherworldly acoustic dimension. Stratos' score even intervened in the actors' vocal delivery, with the recordings capturing both the performance and his coaching sessions with the cast. The production featured young actors destined for fame - Elio De Capitani, Ferdinando Bruni, Cristina Crippa, Corinna Agustoni, Ida Marinelli - guided by Gabriele Salvatores in this adaptation of Petronius' ancient novel. Shortly after the Satyricon performances, Stratos was hospitalized for the condition that would lead to his death at just 33 years old. This work represents his final composition - a haunting farewell from one of Italy's most innovative sound artists. Die Schachtel presents this recovered work in collaboration with Teatro dell'Elfo, pulled from the original magnetic tape and carefully restored. Satyricon '79 is one of the great artifacts of 1970s Italian avant-garde - a wild, grinding sonic expose which sucks the ear into its depths, made in the spirit of collaboration and creative risk-taking. The edition includes critical apparatus with essays, testimonies from protagonists, and period photographic documentation, documenting an unrepeatable moment where theatre, vocal research and sonic experimentation converged. This release marks a poignant moment in experimental music history - Stratos' final work, now rescued from the archives and restored to its rightful place in the canon of Italian avant-garde masterpieces. A true wonder of towering historical importance. As essential as it gets for any fan of experimental music, or the history of the Italian avant-garde. Fully restored and newly mastered from the original analog tapes. Absolutely essential.