Suche:creative use

After over a decade in the shadows, the mysterious and elusive Creative Use return to their secret headquarters for brand new manoeuvres.

Freshly kitted out with new prescience, flair, and a Maestro Echoplex EP-3, they deliver Creative Use 11 via newcomers, Powerhouse Jim & The Fitness Centre, direct from their dojo in the North of England.

The trio of delights offer something for all discerning DJs and collectors alike. This EP won’t be around for long, so we advise to buy or cry.

2026 REPRESS

COEO are back on Toy Tonics! After uninterrupted touring around the globe, followed by a short creative break the guys come back with an even stronger sound. With the new EP they go more underground again. Its addressed to the clubs and night owls out there, who turn night into day and won't stop dancing!

The sound is based on classic house patterns and includes a lot of cool saxophones, big piano stabs & rhythmic piano solos. They even go tribal, use arpeggios and switch into breakbeat heaven. The four Originals are a great next step in the COEO evolution. The unique warm, catchy atmosphere of the tracks can create that special COEO euphoria which made them a lot of fans. From Moodymann to Disclosure, Mall Grab to Kenny Dope, the list is long.

It’s fantastic to see how popular they became over the last couple of years. The last COEO vinyl sold over 2500 copies and some of their tracks have millions of Spotify plays. It’s DJ FOOD. Pure bliss!

“One foot out the door, another in the otherworld…”
So begins Hannah Lew’s debut, self-titled solo record, soaked in imperious, wide-eyed pop songwriting and a girl-group/post punk aesthetic that belies the artist’s history in the U.S. underground. A towering, hook-laden album, it’s infused with an optimism and surrealism that conversely deals with the times we find ourselves in.

Recorded at home in Richmond, CA and in The Best House studio with Maryam Qudus in Oakland CA, with the assistance of a crack team of West Coast musicians, this album sees Hannah Lew stepping out from behind the legacy of her two groups Grass Widow and Cold Beat. While musically bearing similarities with her previous work, “Hannah Lew” is a bold leap into direct pop territory, making ample use of a vocal style that teases out the inherent melancholy in her melodies. Mastered by Sarah Register, each song is a perfectly honed nugget that frequently pulls the heart in two directions at once.

Themes of change, breaking up, shattering old ways of being are shot through the record. For the front cover, a photograph of the artist’s face was printed, ripped up and re-assembled, resembling the creative process embarked upon by Lew for her first “solo” material. The album feels instinctual, almost dream-like in its assemblage of sweeping synths and pulsating, propulsive drum machine beat patterns with Lew’s vocal performances sensitive and caressing over the top. Increasingly relying on the subconscious and dreams to guide her creative process, Hannah Lew frequently abandons literal interpretations or linear narratives, the songs seeming to exist in a swooning, effortless flow-state while remaining emotionally hard hitting.

On an album where every song could be a single, there are kaleidoscopic shades and varying emotional tones in abundance. First single Another Twilight is carried along a pumping, Italo-disco-style 4/4 beat and mono-synth bass line, the low end pulling at the heart and body. Lew’s vocal melody teases the track before swan-diving into a gorgeous chorus as she sings “it’s all over baby and I don’t mind… in decline, I take my time…” The album is suffused with moments like this. On slow builder Damaged Melody, an arpeggiated synth elongates the verse before a cascading synth showers down melodic glitter. The stunning Replica uses dual swirling synth patterns before a driving, synthpop chorus for the ages carries Hannah Lew’s vocal into the stereo field, sailing in on a high register singed with the embers of a break up.

In a departure from previous groups, her solo songs are guided by dreams and free association inspired by Dada and the Surrealist movement and sculpted afterwards. As such, the songs reveal themselves on repeated listens, revealing traces of heartbreak inspired by both personal and global elements - Hannah Lew regards the album “a wartime album.” On Move In Silence, Lew intones “there’s a war outside, just out of view,” revealing the dichotomy at play throughout. With the songs evolving naturally and in a flow state, the pressures and sadnesses of the modern age bleed through, mixed in with Lew’s inherent love, sensitivity and fractured-but-intact optimism. On the swooning, sublime Sunday layers of Numanoid synths open up for the commanding vocal performance pontificating on grief, love, pain as she “feels the ache on Sunday…” As the chorus builds and Lew’s call-and-response vocal adds to the emotional tension, it almost feels like too much to take.

Elsewhere, there are echoes of Hannah Lew’s previous work. On Time Wasted a bass guitar comes in with a heavy, punk attack before the synths and vocal harmonies reminiscent of later Cold Beat elevate everything. The glassy, sweetly resigned closer The Clock sounds like so classic it could be cover, a sweetened Jesus & Mary Chain tune perhaps, before it erupts into volcanic chorus that could only come from Hannah Lew in 2026.

2026 Repress

Laurie Torres is a Canadian musician and composer raised in Montréal, Québec by Haitian parents. Since 2008, she has been a trusted stage and studio performer for Julia Jacklin, Pomme, and Land of Talk, as well as being a founding member of Folly & The Hunter, with whom she recorded four studio albums and toured Canada, Europe and the UK.

In 2023, Laurie shifted focus to work on her own creations, a process of making time - the will and the need becoming omnipresent. Drawing creative inspiration from contemporary artists like Tirzah, Gia Margaret, Valentina Magaletti, Tara Clerkin Trio and ML Buch, 'Après coup' finds Torres intersecting at a pivotal moment where artists whose marginalized identities are at the forefront in creating a beautiful array of "other options".

"Being othered and tokenized as a woman who plays music, as well as a queer and black person, takes a toll, while also positively feeding a strong urge to push and be seen."

Centering around piano, drums and synthesizer with interweaving field recordings, 'Après coup' follows the precursor ep 'Correspondances' in the form of a sprawling 11-track album. Translating directly from French - afterwards, after the event - its title subliminally points at something deeper between the lines. Recorded in 2023 between tours in a small window of time where 'normal' life hadn't quite recommenced, Torres meticulously crafted her debut solo material in view of surrounding nature, all providing the perfect nourishment for long streams of improvisation. Built right up to the edge of a lake, Studio Wild in St-Zénon, Québec offered an unparalleled location and set up for her freeform creativity.

Instrumental music seemed like a natural response and evolution for Torres who had long basked in the world of "pop music" as she elaborates: "I had an urge to use creativity as a sort of resting place, a place where things can unfold slowly and take time to reveal themselves. In other worlds words, I felt the need to make something slower, more elusive"

The immediacy of Torres' recorded takes doubled with minimal overdubs create a fiercely direct, intimate and unpolished lo-fi beauty. 'Après coup' then is self-reflective, open and inclusive with Torres allowing herself to be fully seen. An album to be felt at close distance with unrivalled authenticity. This album stands as a testament to Laurie's artistic evolution and serves as a beacon, inspiring her to continue nurturing her own creative pursuits and finding exhilarating freedom.

“Onomatopeikoa II” follows on from Irazoki's 2017 Gitarra Onomatopeikoa release, and that album's sense of untethered, questing curiosity is not only carried over but expanded upon even further here. Combining a fully committed approach to the guitar with an almost egoless lightness of touch, this album builds upon the already impressively scopious range of Gitarra Onomatopeikoa to dizzying effect.

Irazoki makes full use of an impressively broad palette. Yet nothing feels forced, nothing is for show – there’s just a sense of open-hearted generosity.

In lesser hands such a whirlwind tour of style and form might risk failing to get its hooks in deep enough, yet not only does Irazoki have the imaginative scope to tackle these varying approaches to the instrument, he has the technical chops to pull it off. Each composition seems to have an openness of intent that is utterly disarming; all cards are on the table and nothing is held back, resulting in a creative tour de force that builds, piece by piece, to a unifying cohesiveness that makes the whole far greater than the sum of its parts.

Featuring contributions from long-time OTO favourites Rhodri Davies and Raphael Roginski,

“Onomatopeikoa II” is nevertheless unmistakably a work of singular craft and vision.

FFO: Jeff Parker, Loren Connors, Keiji Haino

Limited edition vinyl of 250 copies

presented by Hegoa with a cover designed by Pablo Mirón.

This isn’t a compilation—it’s a vinyl conversation between cities, generations, and musical bloodlines. This inaugural release embodies the spirit of collaboration, community, and cross-generational artistry that defines each artist’s deep musical legacy.

A statement on wax bringing together Glenn Underground, Coflo, Jon Dixon, Kevin Reynolds and sillygirlcarmen, this four-song project documents the shared language of five Artists through deep house, jazz roots, and forward-looking soul. Though these artists have shared DJ booths and dance floors around the world, this release marks a rare moment where their creative voices intertwine on wax. Each track stands on its own, but together they form a continuum—past, present, and future etched into wax. Pressed with intention and made for real systems, this release exists for the heads, the selectors, and anyone who still believes vinyl is where the story lives. Meant to be played—not archived. The kind of tracks that feel alive in the room and grow every time you hear them.

‘Ease’ EP tracks:
Glenn Underground ‘Dive (Into The Deep)’; the Chicago legend & Strictly Jaz Unit co-founder combines deep house, freeform jazz & soul, here in a jazz-infused, laid-back, hypnotic melange of house beat, synth chord riff, rippling arps, with a whisper of disco in the bassline and 80’s electro in the high, singing strings.

Coflo x sillygirlcarmen ‘Never Forget (That Feelin’)’; East Bay CA-based Coflo combines Hawaiian & Portugese roots with a global reach. A collaborative skipping house beat, pattering percussion & melodic jazz synth piano embrace sillygirlcarmen’s soulful voice and heartfelt lyrics. This collaboration marks a merging of emotional storytelling and percussive sophistication.

Jon Dixon ‘Saturday At Northland’; Detroit’s modern jazz & techno fusionist, rooted in long study and prestigious performance of classical & jazz piano both in orchestral and electronic contexts, employs his keyboard virtuosity in a thrilling wave of melodic piano improvisation & complex lively percussion, combining sheer craft with spiritual heft.

Kevin Reynolds ‘I Got Music’; from an Irish/US Detroit family, producer/live artist Reynolds blends techno, jazz, soul, from influences as diverse as 90s underground techno, Kraftwerk & John Coltrane, and roles/performances in multiple prestigious venues & positions. Here, a stealthy beat & Kraftwerk-evoking robotic electro synth theme are joined by a dual vocal used as a riff, while clusters of piano chords flower into jazz motifs.

BLUE & WHITE COLOUR IN COLOUR VINYL

In the culinary arts, it’s easy to overcomplicate the final product. Theme, presentation, texture…they’re important but should work to complement the raison d'etre of any food. At the end of cooking a dish, it should taste good and feed people. Some dishes, like barbeque or provoleta, resist the tendency towards hollow showmanship. One of their expressions can be more or less aesthetic, but the first purpose is to be simple and tasteful. Argentinian provoleta goes so far as to blur the line between ingredient and dish. It relies on the inherent flavor of provolone being heated at the right speed for the perfect amount of time. You can add garlic or chives or red pepper to the slice, but ultimately they serve to bring out an essence that’s already there.

Los Angeles’ Cousin Feo has developed his rapping acumen in the five years since releasing Provoleta, but returning to the project today shows that he always had the penmanship, grit and delivery that christens an emcee worthy of remembrance. Like the bubbles rising up in the appetizer that is the album’s namesake, Feo showed that true profundity is found in the simple gestures.

Since dropping the project in 2019, Cousin Feo has expanded his vision of a world where hip-hop and football, two proletarian art forms, mingle in creative and compelling ways. He has collaborated across multiple continents, chronicled football histories, aided in canonizing legends, kept the flames high in age-old rivalries and constantly forced his audience to search for the last time they heard bars this hard. In anyone else’s hands it would be too great a task.

The maturity he showed on Provoleta wasn’t nascent, it was an inherent quality forcing itself to the surface. The songs refract his experience as a working class Angeleno through the archetypes of Argentinian football legends. The kernel that unites the two worlds is hustle. When Feo was coming up, missteps had greater consequences than crashing out in the group stage and street deals had the weight of a Boca-River Plate match.

Each track uses slightly different ingredients to let Feo’s underlying talent shine. “Maradona” feels salvific, fitting for a football legend canonized from the Andes to the Alps and a Los Angeles rapper looking to inspire similar hope in the neighborhoods that raised him. On “Di Stefano” Feo massages the instrumental with the same composure of the late forward, until he pierces through the headphones like one of Di Stefano’s arrows. It’s also refreshing to hear a song celebrating Messi before his meme-ification, focusing on the universal truths contained in his footballing talent instead of using number 10 as a stand-in to make a point in a fruitless argument. And he still finds space to show deference to Batistuta, Kempes and other members of the Argentinian pantheon who’ve been erased from the popular imagination by the national team's contemporary success.

Real ones know that true players, true rappers, and true artists will always stand the attacks of time and consensus. In Provoleta’s first verse, Cousin Feo says he moves with the hand of God. Maybe one day he’ll tell the whole truth and let us know how he was able to wrestle the pen away too. Limited edition of 300 hand-numbered copies.

Once I Was Young and The Airplane Album find the producer taking yet another sonic right turn. "These records were made in the same year with a very similar creative process. I moved almost completely away from sampling, experimented more than ever with ambient and techno elements and used the album format as a way to tell a story about moments in my life." Once I Was Young is a storytelling work that journeys through analogue synth-pop, modulated techno and raw, dusty drums with otherworldly melodies. Moments of beauty come through escapist, naturalistic ambient tracks and fusions of Kraftwerkian sequencing with more classical piano, while stark, clubready grooves keep things moving. Airplane contrasts similar shades of light and dark, synthetic and organic, rough and smooth. Glitchy, imperfect analogue sounds, knackered drum machine grooves and eerie synth phrasing evoke a post-human world with icy atmospheres. Elsewhere, warmth comes from bittersweet melodies and loose, funky drums that ooze retro-future charm.
Once I Was Young and The Airplane Album show a diff erent side to Escobar, one that embraces introspection and experimentation while exploring a whole other world of meaningful machine soul

Reframed is Vitess’ third album, released on his own label Retro Futura, and marks a new turning point in his artistic journey. Unlike his previous albums — the first fully exploring the Retro aesthetic, the second embodying the Futura — Reframed brings these two worlds together within a single, coherent yet eclectic body of work. The album opens with sounds inspired by 90s progressive music and gradually moves toward more futuristic textures. This album format gives Vitess complete freedom: the freedom to build a full, living musical experience, introducing for the first time a strong instrumental dimension — most notably through the use of live drums — and allowing each track to interact with others, transform, or mirror one another, while maintaining a clear narrative thread that guides the listener throughout.

The title Reframed directly reflects this approach. The album is built around tracks conceived as Recto / Verso, offering a form of double listening experience. On the one hand, electronic, club-oriented and progressive versions, designed for energy and dancefloor movement; on the other hand, more introspective, pop and instrumental counterparts, created for listening and storytelling. Starting from the same musical foundation — a vocal sample, a percussion element, or a melody — Vitess develops two distinct interpretations of the same track, generating contrasting yet deeply connected sonic worlds. This method, central to his creative process, highlights his ability to explore a single detail in depth and let a micro-element lead him toward radically different sonic dimensions, while ensuring coherence and a strong identity across the album.

For Reframed, Vitess also collaborates for the first time with other artists: Stupid Flash, ATOEM, and Lucile, selected for their ability to enrich his universe and push it toward new aesthetics. These collaborations recreate a sense of collective energy reminiscent of his early days playing in bands, while remaining true to the essence of the Vitess project: a primarily solitary approach rooted in exploration, experimentation, and embracing the unexpected paths each idea can take.

Call it soulful dream pop, proto-trip hop or downtempo jazz - "Tender Rain" is the follow-up LP to the successful "This Is" album and continues to deliver Ghia's unmistakable sonic magic. On this release, the band shares a selection of previously unreleased vocal songs alongside instrumental pieces, all carried by their trademark chilled and almost meditative atmosphere. Most of the recordings date from the early 1990s, while early demo versions of "New Love" and "Teardrops in Your Eyes" may reach back as far as the late 1980s.

The album opens with the title track "Tender Rain," where smooth vocal jazz harmonies merge effortlessly with soulful pop elements. The track originally appeared only on CD in 1993 on the small Mikado label run by renowned German guitarist Ulli Bögershausen. The band recalls that the piece was first pre-recorded using MIDI equipment and a Tascam 16-track recorder before being completed in the studio with drums by legendary drummer Mickie Stickdorn (Carsten Bohn's Bandstand, Cyklus, Elephant, Lake), percussion by Corinna Ludzuweit, and the final touch-Lisa Ohm's remarkable vocals.

At the time, Mikado was also looking for instrumental material for radio and synchronization use. They selected the track "Tropfstein" for a sampler CD and requested more pieces. In response, "und recken ihre schlanken Glieder" (roughly translated as "and stretching their slender limbs") was composed especially for the project, as Frank Simon remembers. Both tracks appeared on the now rare Mikado sampler CD under the alias z. Zt., short for "zur Zeit" ("at present" or "these days").

Several further pieces in a similar vein were created during this period, including the previously unissued "Auf unserm grünen Sofa," "Reise bei Nacht," and "Was ich Dir noch sagen wollte." These tracks are beautifully crafted downtempo pieces featuring smooth, jazzy piano lines combined with touches of ambient and New Age aesthetics. "Auf unserm grünen Sofa" stands out in particular and will likely resonate with all downtempo enthusiasts. Lutz Boberg recalls that many of these recordings were captured during a single afternoon in the studio, fueled by spontaneous ideas and creative momentum.

On tracks such as "Teardrops in Your Eyes," "New Love," and the haunting Dark Spirits Mix of Ghia's song "What's Your Voodoo?", singer Lisa Ohm delivers soulful pop performances with her clear and captivating voice. "Change Your Sex," the third track previously featured on the Mikado sampler, leans more toward late-1980s funk and was aimed at radio and DJs at the time. Its subject matter was relatively daring for the period, telling the story of someone contemplating a change of sex "to get rid of the troubles."

Together with "This Is" and "Curacao Blue", "Tender Rain" forms another essential chapter in the rediscovery of the band's work. More than thirty years after their creation, these recordings still sound strikingly fresh, reflecting a unique style that in many ways anticipated the rise of trip-hop in the early to mid-1990s.

Wasteland is a record that is unafraid to plunge into the darkness of the modern world and embrace the weirder, edgier and more unnerving moments that come from doing so. It is an album that captures all the enormity of life from the micro to the macro, zooming in on the personal as well reflecting on broader societal issues.

“Wasteland is about the idea of a place once known or familiar that is now broken down and unrecognisable,” says Ghedi. “It’s about exploring the process of watching someone’s surroundings and environment collapse.” And within that you have a lot going on. “It also explores death, personal loss, grief, mental health and how the natural world provides solace and meaning for that loss and how these worlds blur into one another.”
Ghedi has always been an artist that in many ways perfectly encompasses folk music in its purest form but he is also someone that frequently pushes the boundaries of that label and no more so is that apparent than on this record. As like previous albums, such as 2018’s A Hymn for Ancient Land and 2021’s In the Furrows of Common Place, Ghedi uses traditional folk songs as a means to explore contemporary issues via modern and experimentally-leaning music. “With the traditional material on this album I wanted to find songs with content that resonated with me,” says Ghedi. “But also that were based roughly around the north of England.” This is a central underlying theme to the album for Ghedi. The feelings of loss, erosion, and degradation are often most pronounced in working class communities and this was something he wanted to weave in. “It was important to voice and choose material that represented or expressed issues that correlated with things going on around me.”

However, as remarkable as some of the traditional material is, some of the most arresting work on the album is Ghedi’s entirely original compositions. Lead single ‘Wasteland’ is a stunning piece of work that while rooted in an environment being corrupted and broken – “there’s violence on these hills” Ghedi sorrowfully sings, before claiming this is no longer somewhere that can be called home – it is also a stirringly beautiful composition that soars and glides as it opens up, as sweeping strings swoop and in and out of Ghedi’s twangy electric guitar.

The decision to incorporate more fuller sounds, such as electric guitar and huge drums, results in a notable shift and evolution in tone for Ghedi. “The lyrical content needed something more band-driven and loud to deliver them,” he explains. “Incorporating the electric guitar in my songwriting was also a big part of opening the sound up, using drop tunings pushed me to use my voice in a wider range, which forced me to use falsetto a lot which I haven’t previously done before. That then opened the sound up and gave me creative ideas for bigger arrangements and to sonically really push things.”

What Ghedi has done in creating his masterpiece is construct a remarkable space where deeply intimate and personal feelings coexist with reflections on environment, place and society, while also interweaving historical context via traditional songs. Wasteland is as much of a world to explore and exist in as much as it is an album, with Ghedi carving out his distinctly unique sonic language and voice to explore that singular environment.

Wasteland is a record that is unafraid to plunge into the darkness of the modern world and embrace the weirder, edgier and more unnerving moments that come from doing so. It is an album that captures all the enormity of life from the micro to the macro, zooming in on the personal as well reflecting on broader societal issues.

“Wasteland is about the idea of a place once known or familiar that is now broken down and unrecognisable,” says Ghedi. “It’s about exploring the process of watching someone’s surroundings and environment collapse.” And within that you have a lot going on. “It also explores death, personal loss, grief, mental health and how the natural world provides solace and meaning for that loss and how these worlds blur into one another.”
Ghedi has always been an artist that in many ways perfectly encompasses folk music in its purest form but he is also someone that frequently pushes the boundaries of that label and no more so is that apparent than on this record. As like previous albums, such as 2018’s A Hymn for Ancient Land and 2021’s In the Furrows of Common Place, Ghedi uses traditional folk songs as a means to explore contemporary issues via modern and experimentally-leaning music. “With the traditional material on this album I wanted to find songs with content that resonated with me,” says Ghedi. “But also that were based roughly around the north of England.” This is a central underlying theme to the album for Ghedi. The feelings of loss, erosion, and degradation are often most pronounced in working class communities and this was something he wanted to weave in. “It was important to voice and choose material that represented or expressed issues that correlated with things going on around me.”

However, as remarkable as some of the traditional material is, some of the most arresting work on the album is Ghedi’s entirely original compositions. Lead single ‘Wasteland’ is a stunning piece of work that while rooted in an environment being corrupted and broken – “there’s violence on these hills” Ghedi sorrowfully sings, before claiming this is no longer somewhere that can be called home – it is also a stirringly beautiful composition that soars and glides as it opens up, as sweeping strings swoop and in and out of Ghedi’s twangy electric guitar.

The decision to incorporate more fuller sounds, such as electric guitar and huge drums, results in a notable shift and evolution in tone for Ghedi. “The lyrical content needed something more band-driven and loud to deliver them,” he explains. “Incorporating the electric guitar in my songwriting was also a big part of opening the sound up, using drop tunings pushed me to use my voice in a wider range, which forced me to use falsetto a lot which I haven’t previously done before. That then opened the sound up and gave me creative ideas for bigger arrangements and to sonically really push things.”

What Ghedi has done in creating his masterpiece is construct a remarkable space where deeply intimate and personal feelings coexist with reflections on environment, place and society, while also interweaving historical context via traditional songs. Wasteland is as much of a world to explore and exist in as much as it is an album, with Ghedi carving out his distinctly unique sonic language and voice to explore that singular environment.

Shimmering Xhosa traditions and deep electronic futures vibrate as South African sonic poet and composer Dumama unveils her groundbreaking debut solo album, Towards An Expanse. Sometimes gospel, sometimes electro-psychedelic space travel, Towards An Expanse unfurls from a languid lament into an ever-expanding sonic universe. Dumama defies conventional genre boundaries while excavating deep personal and cultural histories in this concise but boundaryless collection, recorded between New York, Johannesburg and Berlin. Dumama first gained international attention with her acclaimed 2020 collaborative album, Buffering Juju, created with fellow South African musician and artist Kechou, and lauded as Global Album of the Month by The Guardian. Her new solo work draws on a rich lineage of South African voices. Gugulethu Duma (aka Dumama) is a musician / composer / sonic poet / creative producer from the Eastern Cape Province of South Africa. Dumama is one of the few uhadi players in the world. Her use of the traditional Xhosa bowed instrument guides her profound story-telling, blending ancestral roots into an urgent electro-acoustic palette. The album was born out of sessions with acclaimed musician and producer Shahzad Ismaily in New York and South African powerhouse Nandi Ndlovu in Johannesburg.

Caterina Barbieri & Bendik Giske's At Source resounds music as wellspring, that which is essential and unknowable, and yet utterly primary. It finds two acclaimed composer-musicians building a world together in self-contained collaboration between analogue synthesis and an extended approach to the saxophone that conjures its own universe of sound. It is at once intimate and cosmic, drawing on the challenges and possibilities of their artistic exchange, tearing down technique to access all the expansive possibilities of their sonic meeting point.



At Source is a document of the world of sound to be conjured when two artists strive for something together, discovering the expansions and limitations of performance by bodies and machines. It is not an exercise in assimilation, but in productive exchange and creative confrontation. It does not draw on outside energies or influences, but grapples with what there is to find in their respective playing. "It also reflects how natural the collaboration was," says Barbieri, "a meeting at the source which was spontaneous, graceful and natural".



Barbieri and Giske first met and were enthralled by one another's performances at Kunsthaus Glarus in 2019, a meeting that spurred conversations on the power of transitions as a compositional force. Giske later contributed a rework of Fantas for Fantas Variations (Editions Mego, 2021), an ambitious undertaking to rescore Barbieri’s work for his saxophone and voice, a challenge Giske had started undertaking two years prior as an ongoing practice of transcription. “The request came as a proof of aligned ideas”, says Giske.



Their new collaborative project then started during an artistic residency in Milan’s ICA in 2021, by invitation of swiss artist and curator Jan Vorisek, as the world was emerging from lockdown. This meeting, and the preceding closure of sites for cultural exchange, made their work together 'feel like springtime' says Barbieri. Giske, who was on the brink of releasing his sophomore album, Cracks, then joined Barbieri's light-years tour, which functioned as an inaugural incarnation of her newborn label and platform through a series of multi-artist curated shows with appearances of Lyra Pramuk, Nkisi, MFO, among other artists.



Through the tour, they continued to develop material live, and this release, laid down in the studio, is true to that ever-evolving process of creation, where live feedback stays essential to the vitality of this collaborative effort. The tracks are each named with two evocative words that contain the two poles of their sound. Theirs is both abstract and cosmic, in the synth as machine undermined by Barbieri's naturalistic playing, and in Giske's continuous exploration of the symbiosis between his instrument, voice, and body. These binaries, of body and machine, posed various challenges, notably in how the stepped patterns Barbieri uses were near-impossible to translate for Giske's body to perform, and other times where mathematical resolutions were needed to sync their playing. Explains Giske: "It forced me to go to the core of what I am and what I have to offer”. Barbieri says that it "explores the liminality between the machine and the human, and the vulnerability in this process".



At Source is testament to two divergent practices finding a whole cosmos in which to convene; music is crystalised and made utterly enveloping through the focused and critical work of two musicians working at their peak. The versions here are, temptingly, "just one of many versions" of this abundant source material Giske explains. Like the best collaborations, At Source is more than the sum of its parts – bringing more to the feast than the simple combination of two musicians, promising versions upon versions of the exquisite material captured here.

Primordial Mind forms the mysteries and intensity of inner life into eight mandalic instrumentals where Mas Aya and Khôra, artists who share 15 years of music making, orchestrate an inspired, prismatic palette of percussive and melodic sources. Each composition presented stages a vigorous meshwork of colours and textures, contrasting riveting polyrhythms with towering arrangements for flutes, synths, and processed acoustic instruments. Tendencies which the artists trace in their solo practices are amplified, blended, and refracted sublimely in unison, serving as energetic portals to the collective awareness.

Combining trans-ethnic scaling alongside a heady brew of rhythmic influences and advanced electronic processing, the recordings on this album operate with a tactility that vaults between free jazz, dub, raga, ambient, and ritual music. Assimilated powers of primal drum patterning and psychoactive, ceremonial melodies, invoke fourth world adjacencies with the work of Don Cherry, Jon Hassell, Popol Vuh et al. There is an alchemical, Buddhist/Taoist/Hindu inflection that guides the record’s narrative, formed through dialogue between the artists over lifelong shared interest in spiritual modalities generally and the tantric approaches of the global east in particular. The album title is derived from an unexcelled esoteric work known as the Kalachakra (Wheel of Time)Tantra and its associated commentary the Ornament of Stainless Light which detail forms of inner and outer transubstantiation within its complex cosmology and metaphysiology.

Mas Aya is the moniker of Brandon Miguel Valdivia, acclaimed Nicaraguan-Canadian composer, producer, and musician whose electronic and jazz inspired works creatively interlace Colombian, Cuban, and a wide array of traditional music. Khôra is the name of the occult entity that uses multi-instrumentalist, producer, and writer Matthew Ramolo to pronounce itself. Returning to Marionette following 2024's monumental Gestures of Perception, Primordial Mind reinforces the rigorous and magical approach to creation which defines Khôra’s two decades of sonic output. Brandon and Matthew met back in 2011 and the pair toured around eastern Europe with Toronto band Picastro in 2013, also performing as a duo with Brandon contributing drums to Khôra's opening sets. After a short spate composing and playing in the ensemble Bespoken together, they continued to discover shared inspiration in psych/art rock, jazz, experimental and electronic music, providing a fertile soil for friendship and collaboration resulting in their collaged, lo-fi album Tangled Roots in 2017. Mythic and talismanic, the duo's Marionette debut weaves a luminous tapestry of organic pulses, offering itself as a support for resonant meditation and a motor for lucid action and intuition.

Brandon Miguel Valdivia: Percussion, Flutes, Log Drum, Korg Lambda, Angklung, Tambor Alegre, Udu
Matthew Ramolo: Modular Synth, Archival Samples, Angklung, Guitar, Duduk, Bass, Percussion, Arrangements and Mix

As Nathan Fake rises from the nocturnal subterranea and rave catharsis of his previous records, on Evaporator, he resurfaces into the domain of daylight, bringing a tangible sense of air rushing against your face, of big skies, and endless landscapes. The idea of pop accessibility that trickled into 2023’s Crystal Vision is refracted here through the prism of sweeping ambient, deep electronica, and trance uplift. Evaporator is Fake’s idea of “airy daytime music”, with each track a different barometer reading across the album’s varying atmospheres, which range from vibrant sunbursts, bracing rainscapes, and fine mists of clement melodics. “It’s not overtly confrontational electronic club music,” states Fake. “It’s quite pleasant, it’s accessible. As I was progressing through making the tracklist, I called it a daytime album. It doesn’t feel like an afterparty album.” For the past decade Fake has been gingerly introducing collaborations with heroes and friends alike into his lone, idiosyncratic working process. Border Community alumni Dextro AKA Ewan Mackenzie transmutes his ferocious drumming for Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs into the blurred choral thump of ‘Baltasound’. ‘Orbiting Meadows’, meanwhile, is his second collaboration with Clark, an eerily idyllic duet where microtonal 18EDO piano clangs slowly twirl around wailing pads. Evaporator marks the junction point of old technology and ever fresh creativity for Nathan. The trusty “dinosaur” age software, particularly Cubase VST5, that has powered two decades of music is rarely updated. “I used to sort of feel a bit ashamed of using such old software, and then I kind of had an epiphany – that’s just how I work”, comments Fake. “That’s just how I play. I’m very fond of these old tools, and I get the most joy out of them, but now I’ve incorporated new technology too.” When an artist accumulates so much synergy with their instrument, music making becomes instinctual. By Fake’s account, much of Evaporator just fell into place. The album title arrived randomly in his head (“it felt completely perfect. Airy.”), ideas looped and developed until things locked into place and just felt right. ‘The Ice House’ is a fleeting glimpse of the sonic world he taps into in this creative state, its glassy FM synths built around a counterpoint between rough-hewn crystalline arpeggios and sparse yet gravitas-bearing bass. “That riff I just wrote out on the keyboard, I just played it forever and ever and ever. The original track ended up being really short. Here you go, and it’s gone!” These unplanned channellings of sound call forth records from Fake’s past while he looks ahead, perhaps getting at the very essence of his musicianship. The opener ‘Aiwa’ (“the breeziest,” he muses) reminds of the introspection that characterised Providence, excited by the fire and grit of Steam Days’ textural experiments, its chunky slams and clatters surging into a flood of harmonic buzzing as they reach out for old wisdom. ‘Hypercube’ stampedes in a similar chronological confluence, infusing an incessant synth line reminiscent of the golden age of rave with the crackling, ecstatic energy of modern festival anthems. Like the vaporisation of liquid to particles, everything that Evaporator presents has a mutant desire to be amorphous. Sounds rarely settle; the irradiated garage beat of ‘Bialystok’ is pitched downwards to driving, rebounding effect, while ‘You’ll Find a Way’ warps static into shivering energy, cinematic synth strings building anticipation into a gradual gush of chords. This translates into a more expansive stereo field than Fake has explored before. ‘Slow Yamaha’ saves the wildest, most kinetic transformations for last with a cornucopia of crispy melodies and fried drums; a sibilance of cymbals on the left, a susurrus of shakers on the right, and kaleidoscopic lasers pulsing and fizzing all around. Evaporation culminating in pure excited atoms. In a world where music has increasingly become background content, making albums remains lifeblood for Fake: “It makes me realise how long; twenty years is ages! It’s weird to see how much the world has changed. Release day back then you did fuck all, now you spend all day on socials. When I grew up the people who made the electronic music I was into were quite mysterious, and the artwork was very abstract. There was a massive distance between you and that music, and that was a key part of it, really. Now it helps to be an extrovert, and I'm just not, but the album marks the first time my face has graced the cover art. I’ve never wanted to do this before, I'm very shy, and generally I don’t like being seen,” he professes. “But, twenty years in, I supposed I could try something new. I'm very lucky that I'm somehow surviving in this world, where the media world favours extroverts and interesting looking people. It’s not my world but somehow I’m still in it.” Evaporator continues to prove Nathan’s necessary presence, with some of his most engaging, varied, and magical music yet.

With »News from Planet Zombie«, The Notwist return to view after years of exploration and experiment with an album rich in both melancholy and positivity, sketched across a suite of thrilling, fiercely committed pop songs. It’s an album reflecting a chaotic world, but responding with warmth and generosity, to achieve creative and spiritual consolidation. Recorded in their home base of Munich, it reconnects with the security of the local to explore the troubles of the global: a guiding impulse writ large across this album’s eleven songs. It’s also the first studio album since 1995’s »12« that the entire band recorded together in the studio in its expanded live formation.

A new album by The Notwist is always a curious endeavour; their musical language is as consistent and resilient as the contexts for creativity are unpredictable and ever shifting. For »News from Planet Zombie«, the core trio of Markus and Micha Acher and Cico Beck embraced the plural possibilities of writing together, bringing songs to the collective and then arranging, rehearsing and recording that material live, in the studio.

The result is an album that’s energised, fully in ›the now‹, with spectacular moments where you can hear the magic bubbling up in the dynamic between the Achers, Beck, and fellow members Theresa Loibl, Max Punktezahl, Karl Ivar Refseth, and Andi Haberl. If »Teeth« begins »News from Planet Zombie« quietly and reflectively, by »X-Ray« everyone’s supercharged, blasting out future anthems with the collective energy cranked up high. The chiming keys of »Propeller« skim the instrumental’s surface like stones across burbling water; »The Turning« clangs its way into one of the album’s most heartwarming melodies.

»News from Planet Zombie« was recorded over one week at Import Export, a non-profit space for arts and music. You can tell, too; there are some pleasingly rough edges here, as though The Notwist’s striving for hazy perfection means they’re also confident enough to let the songs breathe and mutate between our ears. That openness to chance also takes in guest turns from friends both local and international, reflective of a cosmopolitan Munich: Enid Valu joins in on vocals, while Haruka Yoshizawa guests on taishōgoto and harmonium, Tianping Christoph Xiao on clarinet, and Mathias Götz on trombone.

The Notwist aren’t best known for cover versions, but »News from Planet Zombie« features two: a gorgeous version of Neil Young’s »Red Sun« (from 2000’s »Silver & Gold«), which the group originally developed for a theatre play directed by Jette Steckel, and a take on Athens, Georgia folk-pop gang Lovers’ »How the Story Ends«. They slot into the album’s narrative perfectly, nestling in like old friends, revealing The Notwist as poetic interpreters. Played well, the cover version is both acknowledgement of fellow travellers and act of generosity, and The Notwist nail both aspects here.

And that narrative, the way the album plays out? »News from Planet Zombie« acknowledges the distress of our current geopolitical impasse, while reminding us there are collective ways forward. Fed through the figure of the zombie, Markus Acher explores our anxieties: »In the title and some lyrics I reference B- and horror-movies, which is a reference to the crazy world at the moment, which seems to be like a really bad and unrealistic B-movie.« But there’s a reminder here not to lose the thread entirely, that these things, too, will pass.

»The river here in Munich I often go to has been there forever and will be there long after us,« Acher reflects, pinpointing an important source of succour for him, »always the same but always changing. Very calming, but also always reminding me that like this river time only flows into one direction and you can’t go back. Every moment is very precious.«

Artwork by Marie Vermont

The Notwist:
Markus Acher: vocals, guitar
Micha Acher: bass, sousaphone, euphonium, trumpet
Cico Beck: electronics, keyboards, guitar, recorder, percussion
Theresa Loibl: bassclarinet, clarinet, piano, harmonium, organ
Max Punktezahl: guitar
Karl Ivar Refseth: marimbaphone, vibraphone, glockenspiel, congas, percussion
Andi Haberl: drums, dulcimer
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Enid Valu: vocals on 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 7, 9, 10, 11
Haruka Yoshizawa: taishōgoto on 6, harmonium on 9, 10, 11
Tianping Christoph Xiao: clarinet on 4, 10, 11
Mathias Götz: trombone on 4, 10, 11