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The fifteenth release from electro label Gladio Operations once again brings us a multi-artist format, featuring new faces and a distinctly Spanish flavour.

This EP opens with the return of producer Cycloplex, with his characteristic minimalist sound.
This track, titled ‘EP01-A’, once again showcases his powerful and aggressive bass lines.
From Gerona comes one of the new and talented artists on the Spanish electro scene. David Pasajero makes his debut on Gladio Operations with ‘Dislektro’, a fluid journey of melodies and warm textures infused with acidic touches.

On the B-side we find Barcelona producer Dark Vektor, who needs no introduction, as he is one of the Spanish icons of electro sound. This artist also makes his debut on the label with ‘Te Voy A Dar Ahhhhh’, a dizzying track with suspenseful melodies and a powerful bass line that will keep you on the dance floor no matter what.

The Spanish duo Slit Observers is another of the label’s new faces and treats us to this vibrant track titled ‘Green Machine’, where we encounter dark passages with a perfect dose of acid and embellished with subtle vocoders.

The EP closes with a collaboration between German producers Intergalactic Noize Commander and Elektrotechnik, the latter an artist who has released music previously. ‘Informationen’ is a rough track, created in the most hidden German bunkers, featuring arpeggios and robust bass lines that dominate throughout the whole track, accompanied by gloomy vocals.

Specs: Wrapped in shrink, DL code, insert with liner notes

"Music in DNA" is an album recorded in the early 1980s in New York City by Yasuhito Ohno, a young Japanese man breaking free from the constraints of his homeland. The album is a naive burst of outsider DIY enthusiasm, inspired by the multiple avant-garde movements of the era, in music, painting and performance, as well as the native energy of 80s NYC. Ohno channeled his youthful “edge” and zeal into open-minded lo-fi musical explorations using a mere two machines: the then-new technological glories of a four-track cassette recorder and that polyphonic synthesizer masterpiece, the Roland Juno-60; on several pieces he vocalizes. These seven tracks have a zestful, innocent, anything-goes charm, free from preciousness and self-consciousness: a raw and youthful human spirit at play in a new world. Ohno was also inspired by the humanistic promise of the general technological developments of the day, including DNA research, personal computing, and early computer graphics, an example of which can be found on the cover. Ohno later returned to Japan, becoming a renowned composer/producer. In an era of jaded cynicism, "Music in DNA" is a welcome taste of big-hearted innocence, a revival of a raw self. Available on CD/LP/Digital, with E/J liner notes.

Death Is Not The End present a further volume of Arja Kastinen's eerie amalgamations of 110 year old wax cylinders with her own meticulously transcribed takes, this time focussing in on Armas Otto Väisänen's field recordings of kantele player Iivana Mišukka (b. 1861 d.1919).

"Ivana Mišukka (1861–1919) was one of the Karelian kantele players recorded by the folk music researcher Armas Otto Väisänen on wax cylinders in 1916 and 1917. In the early 20th century, the remote areas of Border Karelia were undergoing the final phase of a transformation in musical culture, with the ancient runo song tradition giving way to newer forms of music. This transition is reflected in Mišukka's repertoire and choice of instrument. The ancient small kantele, hollowed out of a single piece of wood, was already rare at the turn of the century. Mišukka's kantele was a new type of instrument with 26 strings, constructed of several parts, but he played it using the traditional plucking technique. Like other Border Karelian kantele players, his repertoire consisted of music rooted in runosong culture, as well as newer dances and songs from the east and west. Most of the recorded material falls into the latter category.

Ivan Bogdanov Mišukka was born out of wedlock in Suursara village, Suistamo, on 1 May 1861. He began playing the kantele at the age of five or six, quickly mastering the instrument. In adulthood, he was considered one of the area's best master players. Mišukka was landless for most of his life and lived in different parts of the Suistamo parish. His first wife, Tekla Markintytär, died in 1897 at the age of 40, and his second wife, Jevdokia Filipintytär Jeminen, died in 1907 at the age of 50. Seven children were born from the first marriage, two of whom died young. The third wife, Maria Ignatintytär Gurnan (Kuurnanen), was a well-known master of lamentations. Together with Maria, Iivana Mišukka worked as a tenant farmer in the village of Suursara. Mišukka suffered from rheumatism, which prevented him from participating in physical work like Maria. This was apparently partly the reason why Iivana Mišukka went to earn extra money by playing the kantele on gig trips. He often had other traditional artists from Suistamo as his travelling companions, such as the runosingers Konstantin Kuokka and Iivana Onoila. Iivana Mišukka died in Leppäsyrjä village, Suistamo, on 18 May 1919 at the age of 58, and his kantele was donated to Teppana Jänis.

Mišukka only used 14 of the 26 strings on his kantele, playing the same tunes either a fourth higher or lower. He tuned his kantele to the major scale using fifths, except for a low seventh scale degree on the upper strings, but not below the fundamental. Since he did not use the seventh note of the scale on the upper strings at all, he could use the major scale both lower and a fourth higher with this tuning. According to Mišukka, the sound of higher, or 'finer', strings is 'more beautiful', while that of lower ones is 'greater'. Among runosingers, the size of the thirds varied, ranging from major to minor to neutral. A similar phenomenon can be observed in kantele tunings, where the third, sixth and seventh scale degrees vary in a comparable way.

During a meeting, Väisänen suggested that Mišukka play the smaller kantele belonging to Konstantin Kuokka. The idea was to bring it closer to the horn to improve the recording quality. However, the kantele was completely out of tune, and now Mišukka tuned it to the Lydian scale (track 18).

Using the old plucking technique, Mišukka placed his right middle finger on the fundamental tone, his right index finger on the second scale degree, his left middle finger on the third scale degree and his left index finger on the fourth scale degree, and his right thumb on the fifth. The thumb also played the notes above the fifth note of the scale. As Mišukka remarked to Väisänen: 'Peigaloll' tuloo enemb ruadoa' (the thumb has to do more work). However, he did not use the seventh note of the scale on the upper strings at all. Below the fundamental note, he played the seventh and sixth notes of the scale with his right middle finger of and the fifth note of the scale with his right ring finger. This fifth scale degree below the fundamental is almost always used as a drone. Sometimes, when the melody required it, Mišukka, like other players, also varied the fingering. He would also occasionally strike the same string with the side of his fingernail after plucking it.

The wax cylinder recordings of Karelian kantele players are kept in the archives of the Finnish Literature Society in Helsinki, Finland. Copies were made of them onto reel-to-reel tapes in both the 1960s and 1980s. The 1960s copies are mono and the 1980s copies are stereo. However, not all kantele recordings from these decades have survived.

The sound of the kantele is difficult to hear in wax cylinder recordings due to its low volume, and it occasionally becomes completely obscured by noise. During the copying process, the cylinder sometimes rotates unevenly, resulting in breaks or jumps in the music. Additionally, the rotation speed of the cylinder in the copies does not correspond to the performance speed of the original music, which alters the pitch. However, since Väisänen's precise notes are available in the archive, it is possible to deduce the melodies, their speed, and the tuning level of the kantele in the recordings. Of the copies of the original recordings from the 1960s and 1980s, I have selected the one that best met the requirements of this publication and adjusted the speed of the recording to align with Väisänen's notes. To enhance the listening experience, I have replayed the songs, which now partly overlap the old recordings on this release."

— Arja Kastinen

Death Is Not The End present a further volume of Arja Kastinen's eerie amalgamations of 110 year old wax cylinders with her own meticulously transcribed takes, this time focussing in on Armas Otto Väisänen's field recordings of kantele player Iivana Mišukka (b. 1861 d.1919).

"Ivana Mišukka (1861–1919) was one of the Karelian kantele players recorded by the folk music researcher Armas Otto Väisänen on wax cylinders in 1916 and 1917. In the early 20th century, the remote areas of Border Karelia were undergoing the final phase of a transformation in musical culture, with the ancient runo song tradition giving way to newer forms of music. This transition is reflected in Mišukka's repertoire and choice of instrument. The ancient small kantele, hollowed out of a single piece of wood, was already rare at the turn of the century. Mišukka's kantele was a new type of instrument with 26 strings, constructed of several parts, but he played it using the traditional plucking technique. Like other Border Karelian kantele players, his repertoire consisted of music rooted in runosong culture, as well as newer dances and songs from the east and west. Most of the recorded material falls into the latter category.

Ivan Bogdanov Mišukka was born out of wedlock in Suursara village, Suistamo, on 1 May 1861. He began playing the kantele at the age of five or six, quickly mastering the instrument. In adulthood, he was considered one of the area's best master players. Mišukka was landless for most of his life and lived in different parts of the Suistamo parish. His first wife, Tekla Markintytär, died in 1897 at the age of 40, and his second wife, Jevdokia Filipintytär Jeminen, died in 1907 at the age of 50. Seven children were born from the first marriage, two of whom died young. The third wife, Maria Ignatintytär Gurnan (Kuurnanen), was a well-known master of lamentations. Together with Maria, Iivana Mišukka worked as a tenant farmer in the village of Suursara. Mišukka suffered from rheumatism, which prevented him from participating in physical work like Maria. This was apparently partly the reason why Iivana Mišukka went to earn extra money by playing the kantele on gig trips. He often had other traditional artists from Suistamo as his travelling companions, such as the runosingers Konstantin Kuokka and Iivana Onoila. Iivana Mišukka died in Leppäsyrjä village, Suistamo, on 18 May 1919 at the age of 58, and his kantele was donated to Teppana Jänis.

Mišukka only used 14 of the 26 strings on his kantele, playing the same tunes either a fourth higher or lower. He tuned his kantele to the major scale using fifths, except for a low seventh scale degree on the upper strings, but not below the fundamental. Since he did not use the seventh note of the scale on the upper strings at all, he could use the major scale both lower and a fourth higher with this tuning. According to Mišukka, the sound of higher, or 'finer', strings is 'more beautiful', while that of lower ones is 'greater'. Among runosingers, the size of the thirds varied, ranging from major to minor to neutral. A similar phenomenon can be observed in kantele tunings, where the third, sixth and seventh scale degrees vary in a comparable way.

During a meeting, Väisänen suggested that Mišukka play the smaller kantele belonging to Konstantin Kuokka. The idea was to bring it closer to the horn to improve the recording quality. However, the kantele was completely out of tune, and now Mišukka tuned it to the Lydian scale (track 18).

Using the old plucking technique, Mišukka placed his right middle finger on the fundamental tone, his right index finger on the second scale degree, his left middle finger on the third scale degree and his left index finger on the fourth scale degree, and his right thumb on the fifth. The thumb also played the notes above the fifth note of the scale. As Mišukka remarked to Väisänen: 'Peigaloll' tuloo enemb ruadoa' (the thumb has to do more work). However, he did not use the seventh note of the scale on the upper strings at all. Below the fundamental note, he played the seventh and sixth notes of the scale with his right middle finger of and the fifth note of the scale with his right ring finger. This fifth scale degree below the fundamental is almost always used as a drone. Sometimes, when the melody required it, Mišukka, like other players, also varied the fingering. He would also occasionally strike the same string with the side of his fingernail after plucking it.

The wax cylinder recordings of Karelian kantele players are kept in the archives of the Finnish Literature Society in Helsinki, Finland. Copies were made of them onto reel-to-reel tapes in both the 1960s and 1980s. The 1960s copies are mono and the 1980s copies are stereo. However, not all kantele recordings from these decades have survived.

The sound of the kantele is difficult to hear in wax cylinder recordings due to its low volume, and it occasionally becomes completely obscured by noise. During the copying process, the cylinder sometimes rotates unevenly, resulting in breaks or jumps in the music. Additionally, the rotation speed of the cylinder in the copies does not correspond to the performance speed of the original music, which alters the pitch. However, since Väisänen's precise notes are available in the archive, it is possible to deduce the melodies, their speed, and the tuning level of the kantele in the recordings. Of the copies of the original recordings from the 1960s and 1980s, I have selected the one that best met the requirements of this publication and adjusted the speed of the recording to align with Väisänen's notes. To enhance the listening experience, I have replayed the songs, which now partly overlap the old recordings on this release."

— Arja Kastinen

“France absolutely engage the body... but the spectacle is one for your mind, especially as you start to wonder how much of what you’re hearing is really there.” The Quietus

Legendary hurdy-gurdy-powered kraut/psych/folk/drone band France have announced a new album ‘Good Thoughts. Bad Thoughts’ on The state51 Conspiracy label; capturing a wild performance at The state51 Factory in East London - part of their very first tour of England. They played Liverpool Psych Fest as a one off some years back.

Forming 20 years ago as a trio in Valence, France, for this performance, were Jeremie Sauvage on bass, Yann Gourdon on electrified hurdy-gurdy, and Cyril Bondi (of La Tene and Cyril Cyril on drums (stalwart Mathieu Tilly was taking some much needed time off).

This album sees the band plunge into the depths of the human psyche, backed up by Hugo Hyart’s deep, all-over cosmic doodles and an unhidden homage to the Parliafunkadelicment state of mind : Uniting, dancing, staying creative and open minded despite the tribulations of life. Dedicated to the feeling of good (and baby they’re good... at being good).

On the night France were recorded by Hot Chip’s in-house engineer James Crump who subsequently mixed the record at Hot Chip’s studio in East London. The album was mastered by Richy Hughes at Binary Feedback.

When you notice the cheerful mystery playing with the synths, the edges of this small world start to look slightly distorted. In any era, someone is always creating mysterious music on their own. (7FO)

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Music in DNA is an album recorded in the early 1980s in New York City by Yasuhito Ohno, a young Japanese man breaking free from the constraints of his homeland. The album is a naive burst of outsider DIY enthusiasm, inspired by the multiple avant-garde movements of the era, in music, painting and performance, as well as the native energy of 80s NYC. Ohno channeled his youthful "edge" and zeal into open-minded lo-fi musical explorations using a mere two machines: the then-new technological glories of a four-track cassette recorder and that polyphonic synthesizer masterpiece, the Roland Juno-60; on several pieces he vocalizes. These seven tracks have a zestful, innocent, anything-goes charm, free from preciousness and self-consciousness: a raw and youthful human spirit at play in a new world. Ohno was also inspired by the humanistic promise of the general technological developments of the day, including DNA research, personal computing, and early computer graphics, an example of which can be found on the cover. Ohno later returned to Japan, becoming a renowned composer/producer. In an era of jaded cynicism, Music in DNA is a welcome taste of big-hearted innocence, a revival of a raw self. Available on CD/LP/Digital, with E/J liner notes.

In ,Osni the Flare", dem zweiten Teil von Tristan Allens mythischer Trilogie, zeigt der Komponist, Produzent und Puppenspieler, wie ein Sterblicher durch die Entdeckung des Feuers zu einer Gottheit wird. ,Osni the Flare" wurde über vier Jahre hinweg mit wortlosen Gesängen, Orgeln, Okarinas, einer Menge Spielzeuginstrumenten und einem ausgeklügelten Sounddesign aufgenommen und erzählt in vier akustisch und visuell beeindruckenden Akten von den Ursprüngen der Flamme und der Zeitlichkeit. Allen webt einen Schöpfungsmythos, der zwischen Schönheit, Schatten und wehmütiger Glut wechselt, und schafft so ein Portal zu einem sorgfältig gestalteten, emotional kraftvollen Klang und einer Geschichte, die durch ein fantastisches Reich hallen. Allen wurde in Saratoga Springs, New York, geboren und hat Kindheitserinnerungen an den Aufenthalt seiner Familie in Japan. Sein Weg führte ihn zu prägenden Begegnungen, darunter mit seinem Lehrer Andy Lorio, der das wachsende Interesse und Können des jungen Musikers am Klavier durch Improvisationstechniken förderte, und Amanda Palmer, die ihn mit 16 Jahren während eines Sommerprogramms am Berklee College entdeckte und seine erste Veröffentlichung durch Crowdfunding finanzierte. Nachdem er an der Berklee Klavier studiert, das Live-Elektronik-Kollektiv Nue mitbegründet, mit der Metal-Band Dent durch China getourt und zwei Solo-Klavier-EPs veröffentlicht hatte, zog Allen 2018 von Boston nach Brooklyn. Eine Anzeige auf Craigslist führte zu einer Puppenspielausbildung bei Mike Leach, der ihnen sechs Monate lang beibrachte, wie man eine Marionette richtig führt, was ihnen eine Stelle als Darsteller am renommierten Puppetworks Theater einbrachte. Diese harte Arbeit, zusammen mit dem Kontakt zu den Artefakten des Bread and Puppet Theater ihres Vaters und dem balinesischen Schattenspiel, brachte Allen zu ihrer kreativen Praxis: Komponieren für akustische Instrumente, elektronisches Arrangieren und Auftritte mit Puppenspiel. Osni the Flare erzählt einen Schöpfungsmythos, in dem die Titelfigur in einem Garten aufwacht und Äpfel von einem Baum pflückt. Von einem Loon herbeigerufen, macht sich Osni auf, den Baum vor der Kälte des Winters zu schützen. Als der Loon von einem Drachen verschlungen wird, wagt sich Osni in dessen Bauch und entdeckt dort Glut. Als er diese Glut dem Baum anbietet, entzündet sich dieser - der Ursprung des Feuers selbst. Iso, der Gott des Meeres, greift mit einer Flut ein, die Osnis Garten überschwemmt. Nach seinem Tod gelangt Osnis Seele in das Reich der Schatten, wo sie sich Tin und Iso anschließt und zur Gottheit des Feuers wird - Osni the Flare. Das Album klingt menschlicher und kindlicher als sein Vorgänger ,Tin Iso and The Dawn" und wechselt von der Perspektive der Götter als Beobachter zu der des ersten sterblichen Charakters in Allens Welt. Unterstützt durch neue Liebe, kanalisiert das Projekt Gefühle in Musik, die zu einem ganz eigenen Zauber wird. Wie Tin Iso beginnt und endet das Album mit Klavierklängen als Portal, das die Heimat repräsentiert, während Osni sich auf eine Reise durch drei Reiche begibt: das Land der Lebenden, das Zwischenreich und das Jenseits. Osni the Flare wurde fast komplett mit einem Aston-Kondensatormikrofon in Allens Wohnung in Brooklyn mit Blick auf den Cypress Hills Friedhof aufgenommen und besteht aus Spielzeugklavier und Flöten, Okarinas, Harmonium, Pumporgel, E-Bass und Kontrabass, Gadgets und einer umfangreichen Sammlung von Spieluhren und Glocken. Die Gesangsmelodie - inspiriert vom Summen seiner Partnerin Virginia Garcia Ruiz, das an Pans Labyrinth erinnert - war Allens erster Ausflug in den Gesangsbereich, wobei er eine Melodie ohne Worte verwendete, um den Zuhörern zu ermöglichen, die Protagonisten zu bleiben. Die Flöten wurden Note für Note akribisch aufgenommen, darunter balinesische Sulings, Fundstücke aus chinesischen Souvenirläden und vogelförmige Okarinas. Die Spieluhren wurden langsam aufgezogen, einzeln gesampelt und dann neu arrangiert und gestimmt, um Virginias Summen zu verdoppeln. Ein ausgedientes Casio SK-1 mit einem kaputten Lautsprecher wird mit einem Harmonium kombiniert, um Akkordtexturen zu erzeugen. Stundenlange Improvisationen, die durch Bastl Thyme und NanoVerb geleitet wurden, erzeugten lange, ausklingende Delays, wobei die besten Momente für Songs ausgewählt wurden. Feuergeräusche entstanden durch Fingernagelklicken auf Klaviertasten. Feldaufnahmen hielten das Zerlegen eines Klavieruntergestells, das Löschen von Kerzen und Geräusche aus einem Hospiz fest. Die Stimme des Drachen spricht Worte aus Allens erfundener Sprache. Die Melodie liegt oft im Bass - inspiriert von Goth und Gamelan - mit nach oben gerichteten Verzierungen. Der detailreiche Ansatz spiegelt eine Punktierung wider, die Allens Original-Artwork für das Albumcover ähnelt und durch ihre obsessive Arbeit kleine Teile zu einem großen Bild zusammenfügt - unter der Dusche, vor dem Einschlafen, mitten im Satz. Das Klavier wurde von der Toningenieurin Katie Von Schleicher bei Figure 8 Recording neu aufgenommen, gemischt wurde das Album von Paul Corley. Der technische Leiter Jim Freeman arbeitete vier Monate lang am Halsgelenk und fünf Monate lang an den Schultern der Basswood-Stabpuppe, die von Bruce Schwartz' Ballerina inspiriert ist. Freeman verbrachte Jahre damit, ein selbstgebautes LED-System zu entwickeln, um das Puppenspiel von der Bühne aus zu beleuchten, und sein unwillkürliches Pfeifen während der Arbeit wurde heimlich aufgenommen und ist im Schlussmoment zu hören. Die Herstellung der Puppen wurde von Miryam Moutillet und Lauder Weldon überwacht, die hybriden Köpfe wurden von Duygu Bayar Ekren entworfen. Seit der Veröffentlichung von Tin Iso im Jahr 2023 hat Allen in der experimentellen Puppenspiel-Community von New York City eine Heimat gefunden und wird von der Jim Henson Foundation und La MaMa unterstützt. ,Osni the Flare" steht für Tristan Allens kontinuierliche Weltgestaltung mit akribischer Kontinuität - viele bewegliche Teile, die in funkelnder Kohäsion präsentiert werden, wobei sich jede Komponente aus einer Idee entwickelt, wie eine Fantasy-Serie, die im selben Reich spielt. Das Album erreicht das, was sich Allens kindliches Ich beim Anschauen von Fantasy-Filmen vorgestellt hat: Musik, die nicht so klingt, als würden Menschen Instrumente spielen, sondern wie das Werk der fantastischen Welt selbst. Durch die Kunst des Puppenspielers, ,wahre Lügen zu erzählen", lädt Allen die Zuhörer ein, etwas Ursprüngliches und Unmittelbares zu erleben. Während Osni sich von einem Sterblichen zu einer Gottheit verwandelt, zeichnet das Album nicht nur den Ursprung des Feuers nach, sondern auch den Ursprung des Mythos selbst.

On Blinking as the Starlight Burns Out Paula Kelley explores her reverence for the dark edges of pop music, crafting a deeply personal song cycle informed by her career as a musician, song-writer and arranger. Channelling some of her most treasured pop-noir classics by Judee Sill, Colin Blunstone and Big Star, the songs on her first album in almost 20 years are filled with heart-wrenching melodies and layer-upon-layer of lush, kinetic instrumentation.

Ange (lit. 'Angel') is a French progressive rock band formed in September 1969 by the Décamps brothers, Francis (keyboards) and Christian (vocals, accordion, acoustic guitar and keyboards).

Since its inception the band's music has been inspired by medieval texts, fantasy and the music of Procol Harum and King Crimson. Their music was quite theatrical and poetic.

Tour-Maubourg returns with a new 6-track EP, Dreams, further cementing his place as a key figure in today’s electronic music scene. Known for blending soulful house with rich jazz influences, the French-Belgian producer showcases both his DJ sensibility and refined production skills on this long-awaited release for French deep house label Noire & Blanche.



Nearly four years after Floating on Silence - his acclaimed EP for the label that quickly became a staple in DJs’ sets and underground all-night club sessions - Dreams follows the same inspired path while raising the bar even higher. Joined by a carefully selected group of collaborators, including American producer Kareem Ali (praised by Rolling Stone, Pitchfork, and Boiler Room), pop/R&B soul singer Nic Hanson, and Lithuanian producer and musician Cyan Lu, Tour-Maubourg blurs the lines between jazz and house. The result is a deeply musical, immersive EP that reinforces a sound signature now unmistakably his own, designed for both intimate listening and late-night dancefloors.
crédits

EvilDead fans, listen up: 27 March 2026 will see the re-release by the American thrash metal act of their cult album The Underworld’ including a number of bonus tracks. The original recordings date back to 1991 and have been remastered by Bill Metoyer (Slayer, Armored Saint). Remastered

A collection of tense and melancholic post-punk gems calling for rebellion. "Blurred Visions" sees the Parisian trio Bleakness deliver an unstoppable album filled with bursts of energy. For fans of The Damned, Killing Joke, Wipers, Poison Ruïn.

Ltd red marbled vinyl. A collection of tense and melancholic post-punk gems calling for rebellion. "Blurred Visions" sees the Parisian trio Bleakness deliver an unstoppable album filled with bursts of energy. For fans of The Damned, Killing Joke, Wipers, Poison Ruïn.

Here comes the first appearance on vinyl of Elf Bagatellen, a 1990 FMP classic from the legendary Schlippenbach Trio where the group achieved fever-dream beauty through self-imposed temporal limitations. The trio deliberately shaped the music, opting for more concise pieces rather than concert-length performances that had become standard practice. Those durational limitations clearly inspired them, bringing a jewel-like, compositional flow to many of the works, although even when the trio seems to be playing a tune in a piece like "Analogue: Scaled" the performance moves so rapidly into the next event any such notion is banished. And yet some of Schlippenbach's older themes resurface in abstracted ways, whether it's Pakistani Pomade's "Sun-Luck Night-Rain" appearing as quicksilver line in "Sun-Luck: Revisited" or Globe Unity's "The Forge" sneaking into "The Forge: Rebellowed." The concision of shorter pieces, including several solo works, arrive as a kind of fever dream in the usual context of free jazz. Schlippenbach Trio soon snapped back into its working methodology on its follow up album, Physics, in 1993, which further elevates the singularity of Elf Bagatellen. The album captured a different side of the trio and helped inform the modern classical tilt in European improvised music. Cien Fuegos is delighted to reissue this undeniable classic, making it available on vinyl for the first time ever, freshly remastered by Martin Siewert. Evan Parker - soprano & tenor saxophone - Alexander von Schlippenbach - piano - Paul Lovens - selected drums and cymbals This album was released as a cd on FMP 1990, remastering for vinyl by Martin Siewert 2025

Lush in strings and pedal steel, the nine-track 'How I Became A Wave' album features contributions from some of Ireland's most accomplished musicians, headed up by Pat Carey, and featuring string and piano arrangements by Cormac McCarthy (RT Concert Orchestra). 'How I Became A Wave' will be available as a limited edition 12" gatefold vinyl that brings together music and visual art, featuring cover artwork based on the original oil painting 'Towards Pabaigh' by Scottish artist Ellis O'Connor, design by West Cork creative Megan Clancy, insert image by Cork- based artist Leslie Allen Spillane, and handwritten liner notes and lyrics from Pat Carey, who steers How I Became A Wave as a collaborative, multidisciplinary project. Pat Carey says: "At the heart of How I Became A Wave is a sense of collaboration - of connection between artists. Inviting artists of different disciplines into the creative process has been key to the journey. Understanding how other people see, hear and feel my work has been enlightening, affirming and vital, making sure that what we have created is a living body of work that I hope will continue to be expressed in changing ways."

Anton Toorell’s second solo album, Solos II, deepens and intensifies the six-string language introduced on his 2022 debut, Solos. Rather than widening his scope, the Swedish guitarist, composer and producer sharpens his focus, homing in on the physical and sonic relationship between player, instrument and tuning. The result is three extended pieces of cascading tonality that feel disciplined yet light, their conceptual frameworks always secondary to the luminous sounds Toorell draws from two guitars.
Throughout Solos II, Toorell explores both the guitar’s potential for silvery, sometimes clashing textures and his own physical engagement with the instrument. Across ‘Volta’, ‘Cripta’ and ‘Scala’, he plays two guitars simultaneously: one fretted with the left hand using hammer-ons and pull-offs, while the right hand activates mostly open strings on a guitar resting in his lap. Despite the inherent complexity of this approach, the music never feels busy or demonstrative. Technique remains a quiet servant to Toorell’s compositional instincts and improvisational sensitivity.

The album leaves space for unplanned resonances and happy accidents, yet its structures are clear, resilient and finely balanced. The seventeen-minute ‘Volta’ unfolds as a shimmering continuum, its repeated figures gently reshaped through minute inflections, creating a sensation of constant motion. ‘Cripta’ spirals inward, cycling hypnotically in a way that recalls both Terry Riley’s iterative minimalism and the hallucinatory guitar loops of early Seefeel.
With the closing ‘Scala’, the recording environment comes fully into view. Captured in a 16th-century wine cellar at Palazzo Stabile in Piemonte, Italy, the room functions as a guiding presence and an implicit third instrument. Toorell tuned the guitars in response to the cellar’s reverberant character, seeking configurations that would open up the space itself.

Meticulously assembled from a good 15 years' worth of source material, Cong Burn boss John Howes' second Paperclip Minimiser transmission proliferates its predecessor's network of turn-of-the-millennium aesthetics and concepts, bringing us closer to the lost future promised by the mid-digital age. If the debut album rooted itself in 2006, using an era-specific rig to activate its vintage Winamp-ready sound, 'II' pushes the clock forward just a little, recycling an unreleased album that Howes engineered in various locations across the north of England, starting way back in 2011. Working quickly and methodically with his homebrewed "DIY DAW" system, Howes improvised live using the record's bank of sounds, transforming the skittering bio-electronic rhythms, bitcrushed modem whines and inclement Lancs soundscapes into a suite of sleek, bass heavy steppers.

Howes has refined his setup and process over the years to function as an antithesis of contemporary production logic, a system that he can use easily to retreat from the excessive layering, overdubbing and editing that plagues modern electronic music. With only limited separate channels in each track, 'II' sounds both archaic and strangely novel. Showing respect to the early days of techno, when stone-cold classics were jammed out live using just a drum machine, a sampler and a couple of synths, Howes simultaneously acknowledges the promise of the transition to a digital future, as nascent algorithmic technology began to rehydrate stale rhythmic and melodic patterns. Fabricating its wrinkled cyberpunk landscape from shovelware blips and whines, spacious environmental echoes and lustrous, plasticky FM hits, 'II' is dense but never congested. It's a reminder that bass music thrives when it's given the room it needs to breathe.

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.

The first resonant space Zosha Warpeha played in was the Emanuel Vigeland Museum in Oslo, Norway. Built as a mausoleum, its walls reach up into a gradual archway, creating an environment where sound expands and reverberates for twelve seconds before decaying into silence. Warpeha was greeted only by dim lights when she entered, and it wasn’t until she had spent several minutes listening that she was able to make out the frescoes that covered every inch of the room: graphic depictions of the cycle of life from conception through death. As the sound of her Hardanger d’amore encountered the walls and these slowly emerging scenes, they obscured its point of origin in both time and space, augmenting its own life cycle. The experience sat in the back of her mind over the next several years as she developed her own patient style of composition and performance, one that comes into full bloom on her new album I grow accustomed to the dark.

When Warpeha was selected as an artist in residence at Brooklyn’s ISSUE Project Room in 2025, she saw it as an opportunity to more intentionally explore how her music might fill a room with ample natural reverb. I grow accustomed to the dark documents two single-take solo performances for Hardanger d’amore and voice at IPR, with both pieces composed in a unique tuning system developed to interact with the space itself. Listeners can trace resonance from the contact of the bow on gut strings into the body of the instrument, its five sympathetic strings offering another layer of refraction, before the sound is thrown about the cavity of the room. The echoes emerge like a photographic double exposure, or wisps of smoke that linger in the air, creating ghostly harmonic convergences that blur the line between what is there and not-there. Sound begins to act like light, a synesthetic alchemy that transforms drones into beams and ornamental trills into flickers.

Both side-long compositions, “filament” and “visual purple,” exemplify a duality that animates Warpeha’s music: an expressive, individualistic style that draws on extensive knowledge of her instrument’s history in folk traditions, and an austere, devotional quality maintained by focus and precision. Though very different in character and structure, both pieces evolve slowly through numerous repetitive phrases, passages of stillness, and bursts of intensity. “filament” opens with a cycle of delicate melodic fragments played and sung around a drone before blossoming into an outpouring of swooping arpeggios, harmonics flying from the strings like sparks off a bonfire. The disorienting pulsation of harmonic beating forms the core of “visual purple,” the close-tone dissonance building to a swarm of open strings ringing boldly throughout the space. After the knotty tones reach their climax, the piece collapses into studied quietude, hushed, but without any drop in intensity.

When Warpeha first visited the Vigeland Museum in 2019, she was in Oslo to deepen her relationship to the Hardanger fiddle through the study of Norwegian traditional music, which is primarily passed down aurally. The experience of learning songs by ear, not only internalizing the tune but also absorbing the techniques and tonalities by listening, was a crucial step in her development as a composer. The years since have seen her sharpen those skills as a prolific member of the New York avant-garde and improvised music communities. Warpeha’s music encourages listeners to join her in this journey, to listen closely with each repeated phrase and through each dramatic shift. Like the frescoes on Vigeland’s walls, with time and intention, the depth of I grow accustomed to the dark comes on like a revelation.

Relive the hit soundtrack to Season 1 with the show that defined a generation, HANNAH MONTANA, and sing-along with The Best of Both Worlds, The Other Side of Me and more on this collectible green splatter LP!