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Elori Saxl's soundtrack for the VR film Texada is an exploration of the smallness of human existence within the grand scope of geologic time, mirroring the film's exploration of Texada Island's limestone-rich landscape. Saxl, inspired by her own experiences of island life on Madeline Island, assembled a soundscape that captures both the vastness of Earth's ancient processes and the intimate moments of human existence. Using analog synthesizers, baritone saxophone (performed by Henry Solomon), and processed field recordings of water and rocks, she created ambient layers that evoke cycles, waves, and the transformative forces of nature. The score begins with an exploration of Earth's origins and the emptiness of a rocky planet before life emerged. This foundation grows into pieces like "The Quarry," where the central geological feature, limestone, takes on a dynamic presence. As loops and rumbling textures evoke the rise and movement of stone over millennia, as abstracted creatures spiral upwards, full of life. The album concludes with "The Most Special Place," which serves as a final bridge between the cosmic and the intimate, leaving a lasting impression of how deeply human lives are intertwined with the ancient geology beneath our feet. Saxl's compositional process itself mirrors the themes of transformation and cycles. Working with limited time and resources, she recorded Solomon's saxophone parts early in the project, later repurposing fragments through re-pitching, stretching, and digital effects. As she explains, "I experimented with bringing out the human character of the saxophone by highlighting breath and imperfections while also pushing it into an alien/unrecognizable/bigger world through digital processing and effects." The result is a soundtrack that feels both organic and otherworldly, capturing the grand scope of Earth's timeline while remaining grounded in human emotion and connection.

Long and intermittent running duo of Discrepant head honcho Gonçalo F Cardoso and Angela Valid's Alex Jones, with sometime collaborator Phil Laney aka Kenny Hosepipe joining in somewhere along the way, Hair & Treasure crossover from Sucata Tapes to Discrepant wax via 'Disc Rot'. Described by the duo, in their cryptic and scatological fashion, as "a fetid spread from the buttery catacombs of Hair & Treasure", one can only speculate on the mindset, if not for the scenario, for these file swap recording sessions. As if decaying throughout this back & forth process, the synthscapes, field recordings, voices from who knows where? and subliminal pulses assembled in these 11 pieces all coalesce into this out-there murk where invocations of "a" real are mangled into unhinged, squinting eyes moments of near- consciousness.

Compared to previous Hair & Treasure ventures like 'Two Fucking Tapes' or 'Forked Piss Blues', 'Disc Rot' forgoes side-long tapestries by focusing on shorter and clearer transmissions from the netherworld. Still, the feeling of pieces of discarded hardware and sound hubris lying around and turned music of the duo remains unscathed, filtered through a newfound precision. After the opening feverish threat of 'Warm Night', the suspended synth pads and working machinery of 'Byzantine Turd Skirt' actually comes as a relief, pulling away (a bit) of the dread to resurface with the Texas Chainsaw Massacre OST ambience of 'Amateur Depravity' and 2004-ish Midwest noise stylings of 'Busy Hubby's Flight to Gstaad' and 'Tit Ale'. 'Roads Gonad Today' and 'Just Jerkers' are not that far removed from a lower fidelity take on Black Dice circa 'Creature Comforts', while -'Professional Babies' goes back a couple of years to their collabs with Wolf Eyes, bust mostly, all of this sounds like nothing but Hair & Treasure themselves. If you know, you know.

Bon Iver's debut full-length For Emma, Forever Ago has been making major waves in critics circles based on the strength of an early artist-pressed advance cd and a couple awe-inspiring sets at CMJ in October 2007. The New York Times called it "irresistible" and Pitchfork stamped its early review of the album with a Recommended tag. For those of you hiding away in a cabin of your own, it's time that you hear the story, and more importantly, the music. Bon Iver (pronounced: bohn eevair; French for "good winter" and spelled wrong on purpose) is a greeting, a celebration and a sentiment. It is a new statement of an artist moving on and establishing the groundwork for a lasting career. For Emma, Forever Ago is the debut of this lineage of songs. As a whole, the record is entirely cohesive throughout and remains centered around a particular aesthetic, prompted by the time and place for which it was recorded. Justin Vernon, the primary force behind Bon Iver, seems to have tested his boundaries to the maximum, and in doing so has managed to break free from any pre-cursing or finished forms. It wasn't planned. The goal was to hibernate. Vernon moved to a remote cabin in the woods of Northwestern Wisconsin at the onset of winter. He lived there alone for three months, filling his days with wood splitting and other chores around the land. This solitary time slowly began feeding a bold, uninhibited new musical focus. The days slowly evolved into nights filled with twelve-hour recording blocks, breaking only for trips on the tractor into the pines to saw and haul firewood, or for frozen sunrises high up a deer stand. All of his personal trouble, lack of perspective, heartache, longing, love, loss and guilt that had been stock piled over the course of the past six years, was suddenly purged into the form of song.

Man-of-the-minute Jorg Kuning returns to Facta & K-LONE’s Wisdom Teeth imprint with ‘Elvers Pass’: a new 6-track exposition of his singular sound, and his most accomplished and comprehensive work to date. By now, the Jorg Kuning trademark is well established. Cherrypicking influences from the wiggiest ends of tech house, electro and bass music, his music is instantly set apart by his totally unique sound palette.

In fact, it’s hard to think of another club artist who has emerged with such a distinct and recognisable voice in recent years. Bubbling and funky with that unmistakable dose of wonk, you can tell a Jorg Kuning tune the minute it enters the mix. Since last appearing on Wisdom Teeth with 2022’s ‘Chosta-del-sol’ EP, the Welshpool-based artist has become a cult name on the global club and festival circuit - his must-see live set turning heads wherever he pitches up. Anybody who frequents the summer circuits around Freerotation, Love International, Gottwood and Dimensions will know exactly what we’re talking about. Along the way he has picked up a number of ardent and outspoken fans, including Lukas Wigflex and Koreless - the latter of whom tapped Jorg for a stellar remix on last year’s ‘Deceltica’ EP on Young. On ‘Elvers Pass’, Jorg manages to ring an exceptionally rich diversity of life from the circuitry of his modular machines.

The record’s melodies flutter and swirl like deep-sea creatures, and his synths ooze as if dredged from some primordial swamp. More so than ever, a host of otherworldly voices have begun to creep into his music: ‘Mercedes’ centres around a fluttering chorus of disembodied vocal chops, while ‘Synthetic Squashies’ rocks back and forth on a looping dialog between two AI chatbots. Across the record, synths mimic animal vocal tones, from the belching bass licks on ‘Skudde’ to the amphibious synth groans on ‘Teen Frogue’. Playful, oddball and in a class of its own, ‘Elvers Pass’ is a welcome New Year offering for ravers and club adventurers worldwide.

QUEENDOM is an album that marks a new era for the project while staying true to the essence of Minuit Machine. Produced under the SYNTH RELIGION label, this opus immerses us in Amandine's introspective realm, oscillating between darkness and light, between doubt and self-conquest. While retaining the emotional DNA of previous productions, QUEENDOM stands out with a more pop-oriented touch, featuring tracks where Amandine sings in French for the first time.

The first single, "HOLD ME," is a powerful pop anthem addressed to the queer community, celebrating the freedom to be oneself and breaking free from societal and patriarchal norms. This track is a true empowerment statement, with striking electro beats supporting a strong message of emancipation and pride.

"Créatures," a collaboration between RAUMM and Minuit Machine, is a modern fairy tale—a timeless love story that could take place in any era. This salvific love, rarely seen today, embodies a poignant depth and beauty.

Continuing the journey, "Cent Fois"—a French-written track—takes us into a techno-pop universe with nostalgic yet hopeful undertones. This song perfectly reflects Minuit Machine's evolution toward a more radiant approach while staying faithful to its dark heritage.

"Party People," on the other hand, is a return to roots with dark wave/italo sounds. This hypnotic and haunting track questions identity in an increasingly robotic society, where individuals are forced to conform to imposed norms. This exploration of the individual versus the collective lies at the core of Minuit Machine's DNA.

"Mes Souvenirs," created in collaboration with Rebeka Warrior, dives intimately into the memories of Amandine and Rebeka. Together, they reveal fragments of their past—precious and vibrant memories that resonate through powerful and melancholic electro sounds.

Finally, the eponymous track "Queendom" invites us to plunge into the depths of Amandine's world—a universe that is both tormented and icy, yet resilient. Supported by a slow and captivating rhythm, this track is designed to grip and haunt the listener, like an incantation.

QUEENDOM is a bold and hybrid work where each track reflects a pursuit of sincerity and artistic reinvention while maintaining the ability to express emotions through rhythms that are both danceable and introspective. The album showcases Minuit Machine's artistic maturity, establishing itself as a must-listen in the darkwave and electronic pop scene.

Amandine entrusted the artistic direction of this album to Manon Dupeyrat, a brilliant young artist who crafted a bespoke universe perfectly aligned with the produced tracks. The album cover, both intimate and anachronistic, invites listeners into Amandine's private world through her bedroom, revealing what she wishes to share.

»Playing with Kris always reminds me of doing expeditions in a lake. Some kind of under water sound fiction observing sonic creatures. This album is a live recording (28-01-2012, Kunstencentrum Belgie, Hasselt, Belgium) which to me always felt like one of the best concerts we did. As with our previous album »Arrêt au Lac Chimère« Vincent de Roguin put his heart in editing and mixing the recordings, extending the dimensions of exploration to the deep bottom of the lake.« – Timo Van Luijk

My Boy, the third solo record from New Zealand singer/ songwriter Marlon Williams, announces an artist emerging anew. Gone is the solemn, country-indebted crooner with the velvet voice - in his place comes a playful, shapeshifting creature. Following the release of his second album, 2018's Make Way For Love, Williams' toured the world, playing major festivals and collaborating with Lorde, Yo-Yo Ma and Florence Welch. He also forged a fledgling acting career with roles in films The True History of the Kelly Gang and Netflix series Sweet Tooth, as well as a cameo in Oscar winning film A Star Is Born. My Boy parlays this flush of worldly experience into a vivid record as spirited and kinetic as the unfolding life of its performer. "I've always explored different character elements in my music," says Williams. "And the more I get into acting, the more tricks I'm learning about representation and presentation. To get braver and bolder with exploring shifting contexts and new ways of doing things." As the pandemic paused global travel, Williams found himself at home in New Zealand, reconnecting with family and friends. Soon new demos and lyrical themes emerged: of self-identity and escapism; tribalism and a gnarled family tree; and ruminations on the role of masculinity and mateship. Co-produced with Tom Healy and recorded at Roundhead Studios in New Zealand, My Boy finds Williams' leading a new band through a set of genre-hopping tunes: from the cheery sway of `My Boy' and chugging `80s noir sheen of `Thinking Of Nina', to the charging synth of `River Rival', and the sultry pop jam `Don't Go Back.' All this sonic and emotional whiplash is intentional, and ultimately My Boy sees Williams having fun, even while interrogating the behaviors of himself and those around him.

My Boy, the third solo record from New Zealand singer/ songwriter Marlon Williams, announces an artist emerging anew. Gone is the solemn, country-indebted crooner with the velvet voice - in his place comes a playful, shapeshifting creature. Following the release of his second album, 2018's Make Way For Love, Williams' toured the world, playing major festivals and collaborating with Lorde, Yo-Yo Ma and Florence Welch. He also forged a fledgling acting career with roles in films The True History of the Kelly Gang and Netflix series Sweet Tooth, as well as a cameo in Oscar winning film A Star Is Born. My Boy parlays this flush of worldly experience into a vivid record as spirited and kinetic as the unfolding life of its performer. "I've always explored different character elements in my music," says Williams. "And the more I get into acting, the more tricks I'm learning about representation and presentation. To get braver and bolder with exploring shifting contexts and new ways of doing things." As the pandemic paused global travel, Williams found himself at home in New Zealand, reconnecting with family and friends. Soon new demos and lyrical themes emerged: of self-identity and escapism; tribalism and a gnarled family tree; and ruminations on the role of masculinity and mateship. Co-produced with Tom Healy and recorded at Roundhead Studios in New Zealand, My Boy finds Williams' leading a new band through a set of genre-hopping tunes: from the cheery sway of `My Boy' and chugging `80s noir sheen of `Thinking Of Nina', to the charging synth of `River Rival', and the sultry pop jam `Don't Go Back.' All this sonic and emotional whiplash is intentional, and ultimately My Boy sees Williams having fun, even while interrogating the behaviors of himself and those around him.

Red Motorbike maestro Eddie C drops on the ensemble with an anthemic ode to the most sought-after of desires. We’ve been keeping this secret for far too long; it’s time to bring U Be Mine into the light, complete with remixes from Lex, Da Silva and Marcello Giordani aka Italo Deviance.
It was just over a year ago when Eddie sent us his original demo of U Be Mine. I remember plugging i the speakers in my fat, pressing play. A fash from a place of love that wet, grey day. The lyrical bass, euphoric stabs, the iconic delay, the pining vox. There are times where things seem naturally bound, designed to intertwine. An instant essential. We couldn’t wait to throw it down in the disco. Much like the coveted desire of its vocoder-clad protaganist, we needed a club-ready fx. Eddie, getting the message, sent us over a quick master - the Eddie C ‘Cash’ Version. Over the next year, at parties from Lisbon to Ibiza, I saw how those swirling arps locked onto the foor, how dancers cosied up to its decadent groove. It was peak time, warm-up and wind-down at once. In the true spirit of the ensemble, we got to work curating a cast of balearic technicians to write their distinct shade of depth onto Eddie’s golden letter. And that’s where it lands.
Lex from Athens casts an exotic, eclectic spirit with his Plaka Remix, all shufing percussions and wild, breezy strings, rejigged baselines and NYC disco tackle. Label curator Da Silva ups the ante with his 7-minute club-ready fx: tight kicks and searing acid, all the bells and whistles for your peak-time excursions. Finally, Marcello Giordani shifts into hyperdrive with the ITALO DEVIANCE ACID CONTROL version, conjuring creatures of the night in kaleidoscopic confgurations, a trusted party roller for the most decadent dancefoors.
We’re releasing U Be Mine on 150 pristine discs only. Claim it as yours, forevermore.

Tuning the Wind was created in 2022 as an installation piece. Since then, it has been adapted into multichannel, 4DSOUND, and stereo installations, as well as performed live on numerous occasions around the world. The piece has a duration of 36 minutes and 15 seconds. For the vinyl pressing, it has been divided into two parts.

Composer Aimée Portioli, known professionally as Grand River, recorded various types of wind and then reworked them through layering and pitch adjustment to create a musical piece where the wind itself becomes a prepared instrument. At times, the sound of the wind is tuned to the 440 Hz reference, while at other times, the instruments are tuned to the sound of the wind. In Tuning the Wind, nature and music merge seamlessly. Synthesizers and wind recordings become indistinguishable, blending natural sounds with human-made instruments. The boundary between a gust of wind and an instrument-generated sound fades away. Human artistry and nature’s symphony merge to become one.

Wind is air in motion. It makes no sound until it encounters an object. The sounds it produces depend on the strength of the wind and the shape and material of the object it touches. When the wind blows, trees sway, buildings rattle, materials move, and sound waves are generated. Some believe that temperature changes create layers of air, and that the friction between them forms a unique sound—perhaps the true voice of the wind, which birds may be the only creatures capable of recognising. Sometimes the wind howls; at other times, it sings or whistles, shifting from a gentle murmur to an angry roar. The wind’s range of frequencies, tones, and timbres is vast and varied. Tuning the Wind is a piece about the wind, made with the wind—an abstract expression of our ongoing conversation with nature.

Concept, composition and production by Aimée Portioli. Wind recordings by Aimée Portioli and Pablo Diserens.
Mastered by Rafael Anton Irisarri. Front cover photo by Bárbara Cameán and Aimée Portioli. Back cover photo by Maria Louceiro. Design by Daniel Castrejón.

A valentine for black hearts! An electric array of magic sounds! The shock return of a missing legend! The surprise formation of HOUSE Of ALL by five former members of The Fall was bound to provide some pleasant surprises, not the least of which being the creation of an identity distinct from that of any specific Fall line-up, and here the band offer an steep evolution of sound of their two previous albums . . . darker, more elliptic and can we say it? A more mystical sum of talents than most groups ever manage. They've kept their open door policy to former members of The Fall and expanded it. Phil Lewis, who's stepped in live for Pete Greenway, makes his studio debut, and the long-lost Karl Burns has emerged from his mystery lair to add a third set of drums to the line-up . . . besting The Glitter Band by 50%! How this will work live has yet to be determined, but the band has already scheduled dates in Spring, 2025. House Of All Souls is somewhat more psychedelic than its predecessors, and despite seven players, each with his own particular style, the songs and production are shockingly cohesive. From the breakneck pace of first tune, Tempest And Storm to the superb album closer, Born At Dawn And Dead At Sunset, there's quite a lot to unpack - it's an album-lover's album, each track magnificent in its own way and impossible for us to pick a fave from the lot of 'em. Plenty has been written about The Fall, whose 50th birthday is just a few years off, but rare is the group with an equally perverse and persuasive influence in that period. When HOUSE Of ALL debuted, Martin Bramah remarked on it being "part of the Fall family continuum" - a matter of actual fact, given the pedigree of its members. With this, HOUSE Of ALL's third full-length album, it's proven fact that the bright lights of those multiple talents behind the band have yet to dim.

Before they were Alligators, They were Ladies.

Ben Avgay (Silvi Jan) and Eden Atiya (Rasco) met in 2020, both working on their own musical projects and bands. In 2021 love has sprung and it was inevitable that the two would start their own musical project. Thus came Alligator Ladies to the world, a love-child of two people who share excitement for the same genres and aesthetics. Influenced from garage, freak folk and mystical creatures such as Ramases & Selket, Thee oh Sees, Ty Segall, MGMT and more, Ben and Eden begun writing songs and recording Demos in their home studio. Eden's song writing qualities and Ben's production, sound engineering and orchestrations mesh together to form the two-headed monster we call - Alligator Ladies.

"It was only natural for us to make this album the way that it is - short, funny and emotional"

For Peggy Gou, recording an instalment of !K7’s DJ-Kicks series was one of the items on her list of career goals. “It’s the premier class of DJ mixes,” she says. “Some of my favourite selectors have contributed to it.” In 2019, Peggy Gou was able to tick that off her list as she proudly presented the 69th edition of the mix series.

To kickstart 2025, which is !K7's 40th anniversary year, the release is re-issued on a tigerfur-coloured 2LP. Peggy started working on the mix in 2018. It was a busy time for the then 28-year-old: she’d just scored her first Mixmag cover and her single ‘It Makes You Forget (Itgehane)’ was receiving awards and critical acclaim. Each month she would DJ in 20 nightclubs all over the world. And yet, the goal for her mix was ambitious: instead of trying to capture the energy of her DJ sets, she aimed to create a portrayal of her own musical journey.

An 18-track listening session that takes you straight into Peggy Gou’s living room where she plays you the formative tunes from her collection. No genre boundaries – she moves across disco, house, techno and electro. No tempo limits – the mix ranges from 90 to 150 BPM. And no age restriction – the earliest tunes on the mix are from 1983.

The same level of attention was brought to the arresting cover artwork, in which the well-documented animal lover references both Korean iconography and the endangered status of the creature of the country's foundational mythology, the tiger. The album artwork shows Gou posing alongside a tiger. "As the first Korean woman to contribute to the DJ-Kicks series I wanted to do something from my heritage," she said in a statement. "I chose the tiger, which is very important in Korean traditions and a metaphor for my personality. As it is inhumane to shoot with a real tiger, I and the photographer Jonas Lindstroem used a library image to make a composite. The tiger disappears when you turn to the inside-cover photo, to highlight that these beautiful animals are already extinct in my home country and in danger of disappearing from our world entirely.”

It took a village to create Le Motel’s Odd Numbers / Số Lẻ. Beneath its pulsing, shimmering tones, the record is alive with the sounds of everyday life—purring mopeds, idle whistling, the din of kitchens and whisper of rain, voices joyful and contemplative, scenes of bustling cities and domestic intimacy.

Le Motel—who runs the Brussels-based record label Maloca—gathered sounds, photographs, and videos while traveling in Vietnam in 2023. From Hanoi he ventured to Hmong communities in the mountains near the border with China, building out a network of contacts gathered from friends and friends of friends. But Odd Numbers / Số

Lẻ—which takes its title from traditional Vietnamese numerological beliefs and customs—is wholly unlike the extractive product typical of exploitative modes of Western tourism; the album’s final shape was deeply dependent upon the participation of the people the artist met in Vietnam.

Back in Brussels after his travels, as Le Motel began working with his materials, he sent early drafts to his contacts, inviting their input. This back-and-forth eventually yielded a dynamic collective effort in which nine of the album’s 15 tracks feature multiple composer credits. Among the album’s diverse collaborators are Yvonne Quỳnh-Lan Dươn, an educator and ethnomusicologist; Chi Chi, the daughter of a Hmong shaman; and Phapxa Chan, who contributes three poems inspired by landscape and Le Motel’s own music (and, in one case, psychedelics).

The result is an album that is not about making sound, broadcasting it as a one-way communication, but instead about the empathic practice of listening—about listening as an integral and even ethical part of musical creation, even (especially!) when that music is created on a computer, rather than conjured by a group of players sharing space in real time. It’s an album that adopts many of the traditional trappings of ambient music while reminding us of the importance of intentional modes of creation. Brian Eno famously said that ambient music must be as ignorable as it is interesting, but Le Motel’s Odd Numbers / Số Lẻ suggests, to the contrary, the richness of experience available to us should we make the effort to open our ears.

Complementing the album, Le Motel’s Odd Numbers / Số Lẻ also takes the form of a multimedia exhibition including photographs, video, and text-based works created in collaboration with Belgian designer and programmer Antoine Jaunard and Vietnamese poet Phapxa Chan. The exhibition is on view from January 23 until March 2, at Brussels’ 254Forest gallery, as part of Photo Brussels Festival 2025.

Being Dead knows how to make an entrance - within the first several seconds of EELS, the duo's new record, the bright, hard-strummed guitar line on "Godzilla Rises" conjures cinematic immediacy, a creature emerging from the depths of the ocean in campy, freaky stop motion, fittingly so. Being Dead's records are mosaics, technicolor incantations, each song its own self-contained little universe. And while the dreamlike EELS probes further into the depths of the duo Being Dead's psyche, it is, most importantly, in the year of our lord 2024, a 16-track record that is genuinely unpredictable from one track to the next: a joyous and unexpected trip helmed by two true-blue freak bitch besties holed up in a lil' house in the heart of Austin, Texas. They decamped to Los Angeles for two weeks to record with GRAMMY-winning producer John Congleton, writing songs for the record until days before they left. The radical shift in process was welcome - a good balance and a challenge, Congleton helping them find new ways to work and helping peel back the layers on the core of their songwriting. Being Dead has grown from a duo to a trio live, including bassist Ricky Motto (who is immortalized finally on record here, particularly in the giggles on "Rock n' Roll Hurts") The resulting EELS is a darker record, tapped more into the devilishness within, but it's also a more raucous, rougher ride sonically. There's heartbreak, excitement, enchantment, dancing - we move through it all at a high-octane pace. Falcon Bitch and Smoofy never want to do the same thing twice on any song, and they don't. From the pummeling garage rock distortion of "Firefighters" to "Dragons II," which appears in its demo form taped on a hand recorder, it's unexpected but intuitive, and, most importantly, singularly Being Dead. Like its animal namesake suggests, the songs on EELS are malleable, the record like slithering through murky waters or strange half dreams, mysterious and beautiful in how it moves, reflective in a wavering sheen. Dipping into each song feels like uncovering a new cavern, plunging into depths unknown but fully open to what will be revealed. On the album artwork, an illustration by the artist Julia Soboleva, there are some weird disparate spectral creatures, a stark glimmer against a cloudy darkness. It's a fitting encapsulation of Being Dead, exuding a welcoming, playful energy even if something foreboding lurks just beyond the pale - more out of frame that's left to uncover, no path unexplored, strange and beautiful in the light.

Purple Tree Fog Vinyl. Being Dead knows how to make an entrance - within the first several seconds of EELS, the duo's new record, the bright, hard-strummed guitar line on "Godzilla Rises" conjures cinematic immediacy, a creature emerging from the depths of the ocean in campy, freaky stop motion, fittingly so. Being Dead's records are mosaics, technicolor incantations, each song its own self-contained little universe. And while the dreamlike EELS probes further into the depths of the duo Being Dead's psyche, it is, most importantly, in the year of our lord 2024, a 16-track record that is genuinely unpredictable from one track to the next: a joyous and unexpected trip helmed by two true-blue freak bitch besties holed up in a lil' house in the heart of Austin, Texas. They decamped to Los Angeles for two weeks to record with GRAMMY-winning producer John Congleton, writing songs for the record until days before they left. The radical shift in process was welcome - a good balance and a challenge, Congleton helping them find new ways to work and helping peel back the layers on the core of their songwriting. Being Dead has grown from a duo to a trio live, including bassist Ricky Motto (who is immortalized finally on record here, particularly in the giggles on "Rock n' Roll Hurts") The resulting EELS is a darker record, tapped more into the devilishness within, but it's also a more raucous, rougher ride sonically. There's heartbreak, excitement, enchantment, dancing - we move through it all at a high-octane pace. Falcon Bitch and Smoofy never want to do the same thing twice on any song, and they don't. From the pummeling garage rock distortion of "Firefighters" to "Dragons II," which appears in its demo form taped on a hand recorder, it's unexpected but intuitive, and, most importantly, singularly Being Dead. Like its animal namesake suggests, the songs on EELS are malleable, the record like slithering through murky waters or strange half dreams, mysterious and beautiful in how it moves, reflective in a wavering sheen. Dipping into each song feels like uncovering a new cavern, plunging into depths unknown but fully open to what will be revealed. On the album artwork, an illustration by the artist Julia Soboleva, there are some weird disparate spectral creatures, a stark glimmer against a cloudy darkness. It's a fitting encapsulation of Being Dead, exuding a welcoming, playful energy even if something foreboding lurks just beyond the pale - more out of frame that's left to uncover, no path unexplored, strange and beautiful in the light.

Pattern-Seeking Animals comes out of the gate in 2025 with the release of their fifth album
Friend of All Creatures due out on February 14th, on GEP Records. The Los Angeles-based
quartet have been one of the prog scene’s most prolific and well-received artists, beginning
with the release of their self-titled debut album in 2019, followed by Prehensile Tales in
2020, Only Passing Through in 2022 and Spooky Action at a Distance in 2023.
Originally formed with past members of Spock’s Beard, Pattern-Seeking Animals (P-SA) has
long since staked claim to its own identity, forging a strong path in the prog world. The
band, named after a quote about human behavior from science historian Michael Shermer,
PS-A is Ted Leonard (lead vocals and guitar), John Boegehold (keyboards, guitars,
programming), Dave Meros (basses) and the energetic Jimmy Keegan (drums and vocals).
Friend of All Creatures (named from a verse in the Bhagavad Gita) contains 7 songs, all
written by Boegehold, who also produced the album. It was engineered and mixed at
Woodcliff Studio in Los Angeles by Frank Rosato in 2024.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Biography by Blake Gillespie
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