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The notion of home isn’t precise, even a dictionary will offer multiple definitions. A home can be a place where you live, a place where you belong, where you originate from or a place where you’re given care; it can be a physical space, a land, a people or even a person. The concept isn’t completely universal, but everyone possesses a unique idea of what home means to them. On her fifth album, Ziúr considers not just what home symbolizes from her perspective, but the word’s resonance to the diverse community that surrounds her, and how their stories have impacted her over the years. Indeed, it’s the first time she’s felt it necessary to examine her own nationality. In the past, she’s deliberately avoided labelling herself as German, feeling disconnected from her country’s politics, culture and even the German language itself. In 2025, the idea of Germanness is in flux and progressives are under attack from all sides. The country’s politics aren’t only being turned inward by the growing throng of far-right voices, but by scared moderates, opportunists and those blinded by comfort, willing to ignore hatred to maintain their privilege. Stepping up to provide a different narrative, Ziúr scours her soul, writing and singing in German for the first time and proposing growth and evolution, not fear and regression. “I never considered being part of Germany,” she explains. “But I am.”

A solemn mood permeates the album’s opening track ‘Brown is the Color’, and Ziúr sings in measured, slow-motion breaths over noisy synth oscillations and doomed piano flourishes. Already, it’s a significant departure from her last run of releases, veering away from the frenetic, satirical chaos of 2023’s Hakuna Kulala-released ‘Eyeroll’ or its fantastical, dubby predecessor ‘Antifate’. Ziúr pulls on real world insights here, tracing her oldest, dearest musical inspirations to present her origins to anybody who might be listening. “Cold world is holding up,” she laments with a metallic crunch. “To let go of your heart, let me go.” And her voice emerges from the shadows completely on ‘Tame’; unprocessed, Ziúr sounds naked and vulnerable on ‘Tame’, curving her precise words around broken, lopsided rhythms and jangling new wave guitars. It’s pop music in its own way, inverted and reconstructed to fit snugly into her well-established sonic landscape. On ‘No Yawn’, brittle, downsampled hi-hats and industrial scrapes ping-pong around distorted riffs, provided by James Ó Ceallaigh aka WIFE; “You fail to sugarcoat your half-ass attempt,” she deadpans, “to build your promised wonderland on quicksand.” Even the beatless ‘All Odds No Chants’, a collaboration with Elvin Brandhi and Sara Persico, reveals another room in Ziúr’s autobiographical suite, mirroring György Ligeti’s enduringly influential choral works with its gnarled, dissonant vocal harmonies.

Songs for Nothing was written upon Olan Monk’s return to the west coast of Ireland. The album is imbued with the influence of sean-nós singing, Irish language songs in the “old style” that often proclaim tales of love, loss and landscape; and also heavily indebted to the late Sinéad O’Connor’s confessional songwriting. Reconstructing these influences through their unique perspective has resulted in a fragmentary album veering between collaged pop, machinic rock and slow airs, “dedicated to Conamara and all who have called it home”. The western, Atlantic-facing edge of Ireland has a particular feeling and energy, one that permeates the release: the granite pulsates, the ocean and sky reflect intensities, seaweed rots on shingle shores, plants bloom, ancient trees come up for air from the drowned forest in Galway Bay, the sun splinters through the low clouds.

All songs written and arranged by Olan Monk
Vocals, guitars, piano and tin whistle performed by Olan Monk
Drum programming by Olan Monk featuring recordings of percussion performed by Michael Speers
Vocals on ‘Down 3’ and ‘Fate (Reprise)’ performed by Maria Somerville
Cello on ‘Blank Page’, ‘Oatmilk’, ‘Pomegranate’ and ‘Fate (Reprise)’ performed by Risteárd Ó’hAodha
Violin on ‘Corp’, ‘Down 3’ and ‘Drón Feadóige’ and accordion on ‘Amhrán Mhaínse’ performed by Peadar Tom Mercier
Bodhrán on ‘Corp’ and ‘Drón Feadóige’ performed by Aindriú De Buitléir
Harp on ‘10 Days’ performed by Róisín Berkeley
Flute on ‘10 Days’ performed by Dylan Kerr
Accordion on ‘Blank Page’ performed by Olan Monk

Recorded and mixed by Olan Monk
Additional mixing on ‘Can’t Wait’ by Patrick Burniston
Mastered by Noel Summerville
Photography by Charlie Joe Doherty
Artwork by Nicola Tirabasso
Thanks to Nic Tasker

With love to friends and family for their support in making this record
Dedicated to Conamara and all who have called it home

Originally released in 1973 and pressed in very small quantities, Emerge is the second album by the McCrary family and their non-gospel debut. Long sought after by collectors and modern-soul and funk connoisseurs, it's an exemplar of what was considered "progressive soul" in the early 70s as well as what emerged a generation later as "neo-soul." This long-overdue reissue was produced with the full cooperation of the McCrary family and gives this remarkable record wide distribution and easy accessibility for the very first time since its initial low-key release over half a century ago. The McCrary family started out as a gospel group in their native Youngstown, Ohio but turned to secular music upon relocating to Los Angeles in 1970 and recording this album for the tiny Cat’s Eye label of Beverly Hills. The music veers between sophisticated, jazzy R&B (Charity McCrary’s beautiful “Matter Of Time”) to occasionally grittier funk (as on “Kung Fu”). “Be A Father To Your Son” and “People Run On Love” bear messages that are still relevant decades later. The McCrarys would later gain wider recognition with their hit “You” featuring Stevie on harmonica and with “Any Old Sunday” which was memorably covered by Chaka Khan.

OOOOH! by Alex Bad Baby Lukashevsky with Cocoa Corner (2025)

Celebrated veteran of Toronto’s music scene, known for his boundary-pushing approach to folk and avant-garde music, twists rock music into strange and brilliant new shapes with the help of young jazz players, U.S. Girls, and his own immensely talented son.



OOOOH! is hard on the outside and soft on the inside. Made in the spirit of unity,
humanity, and poetry — disobediently renouncing the glory of personal triumph for the
generosity of an honest experiment. On the last track of the album you’ll hear “Or do you only ever never want to make a single enemy? / That’s not freedom or humility / It’s nothing, honestly.” Oooh, that's a bad baby!

A celebrated Toronto songwriter and performer, Alex Lukashevsky has always been disobedient. Which simply means, nothing is off the table when he’s looking for his
poetic voice; when trying to find the realest I of the teller. As he sings on the lead track “that musician that’s dead” The musician is radical/ it’s the world that’s demented/ listening with their eyes, the music looks dented/ they’re over-represented.
OOOOH! was recorded in January 2024 at Sound Department in Toronto, engineered by Patrick Lefler (ROY), mixed by Grammy-nominated producer Matt Smith. All the songs were tracked live off the floor in two days, with one extra day for recording vocals, to keep the recording fully alive and breathing. As leader of Deep Dark United, as a solo performer, and a sideman in Brodie Wests’ Eucalyptus and Luka Kuplowsky’s Ryokan Band, Alex has been an outsized influence on the Toronto music scene that spawned acts like Broken Social Scene and Owen Pallett. (Pallett, who has toured with Lukashevsky, went so far as to record an entire album’s worth of Alex’s songs, backed
by a full orchestra.)

Lukashevsky has approached each of his albums and projects as something completely new, using only the musical boundaries he creates with each song. Even when he
has recorded songs with nothing but his voice and his own acoustic guitar accompaniment, the results are never “stripped down” or “back to basics,”
Gong! How do you get to heaven / have fun! have fun!
It’s cool to approach music as a game of “spot the influence”; Burt Bacharach-meets-Black Flag; Lana Del Rey-meets-LCD Soundsystem etc. Glorified mash-ups are promising because of their conversational nature. But they can turn us into hyperboreans; blowing cold air beyond ourselves while doing what we can to remain warm. To devise a game or a narrative is to have a winner and a loser, but we all know that just as you win/ so you lose. And does anything really change? Alex Lukashevsky and Cocoa Corner are more at ease drawing blind contours or playing an old game like consequences. They let things add up without knowing particularly how. Cognition is recognition.

Lukashevsky, in addition to writing all the songs, plays guitar and sings on OOOOH!, doing both in ways that are soulful and spikey at the same time. Joining him on guitar and vocals is his oldest child, Charlie Lukashevsky, who, at 23, is already a talented performer and songwriter in his own right. Cocoa Corner also includes Aidan McConnell, an in-demand drummer and composer, Jack Johnston, a jazz bassist and Barry Harris acolyte, and percussionist Evan Cartwright (The Weather Station, U.S. Girls, Cola, Tasseomancy), who plays steel pan and marching drum.

Working with his son and with other younger musicians is central to the album’s
unpredictable aesthetic. It reinvigorated the sound in unexpected ways. Lukashevsky says, “I had to reconsider my own instincts. I had to deal with being 99 years old.”
In addition to these performers, the album includes a tasty contribution from Meg
Remy, the visionary musician and producer who is the leader of the critically acclaimed
project U.S. Girls. Remy duets with Lukashevsky on the imagistic and sprawling album
closer “things keep happening.”
About that album title: OOOOH! is taken straight from “that musician that’s dead” an
arch and unhinged comment on the exertion required to navigate a lifetime of music making.
Lukashevsky’s delivery of that one emotive word is a kind of cultural posture, but also a
hundred percent primitive expression. The impact is never less than visceral. His vocal
delivery ranges through rich baritone blues to keening falsettos to a kind of sprechstimme that periodically steps out from the music to grab the listener’s shirt. He
doesn’t sound too nice, but he is sincere. When life gives you lemons lament.
For OOOOH! his first official full-length album since 2012’s Too Late Blues, (a collection of knotty-yet-effervescent tunes built upon the enchantingly serpentine harmonies of Lukashevsky and his vocal collaborators, Felicity Williams (Bahamas, Bernice) and Daniela Gesundheit (Snowblink, HYDRA)), Alex has once again broken apart and rebuilt his own approach to music. Or rather (because that sounds too over-determined), he
has allowed his music to build itself into strange new shapes that only fleetingly and
coincidentally, but happily, resemble anything that might be called rock and roll. There is some editorializing within the song’s lyrics— Lukashevsky even cheekily contributes to the “spot the influence” game with the line “Muddy Waters, Rite of Spring!” a funny preemptive strike against anyone already reaching for some variation of avant-blues to describe what the song is up to here. In fact there are many names checked on this record (literally and in spirit); they are the lily pads that trace the path of this expression! Palestrina, Peter Pears and Benjamin Brittain, Andrés Segovia, Stravinsky, Lotte Lenya, Alice Coltrane, Skip James, Chuck Berry, D’Gary, Betty Carter, Mukhtiyar Ali, Chuck D, Yoko Ono, Hailu Mergia, David Bowie, Jane Siberry. rhythm is a skeleton mansion / haunted by melody / feckless prodigy / the world is under a spell / cast by some demon angel / Practice day and night / Try as hard as hell / no one can sing that well Musicians are often worried by the way in which they are prepared to fail rather
than how they would like to succeed; it’s such a deep concern that it tempers their creativity and shackles their process. Current cultural proclivities, tend to comfort a certain kind of artistic failure and abnegate another kind. How many testimonials, full of heartfelt care and investment, have you heard for Taylor Swift, and yet a craftsman like Chris Weisman is often dismissed easily as though he’s doing something anti-social. what’s throwing itself in my ears and my eyes / arrogant devil ad hominem christ.
The music you will hear on this recording veers off in multiple directions at once,
and features a rock and roll spirit with a divergent heart. This is no sclerotic clomp of the Average Rock Song, but in fact a flood of humanity in all its darkness and moodiness and unpredictability. If most performers make songs that are like sports cars or pickup trucks to drive around, Lukashevsky has built something more akin to a rowboat in a tree: it’s weird and beautiful.

Following the reissue of his debut album Dispatches, Field Records is proud to return to the seminal work of Mike Parker with an overview of his releases on Prologue — a truly original strain of steely, hypnotic techno that has touched upon many different waves within the wider scene.
Having pioneered a hard-edged, reductionist style via his Geophone label since the mid-90s, around 2010 Mike Parker found himself at the vanguard of an emergent sound alongside artists like Donato Dozzy and Cio D'or exploring the possibilities of immersive, profoundly transcendental club music. The Prologue label came to define this cult zeitgeist, where reduction and repetition took on a truly psychedelic quality and the subtle details made all the difference. It ran from 2008 to 2015, laying the foundations for the deep techno sound that remains a vital, evolving subculture in the present moment.
From Parker's first appearance on Prologue with the Subterranean Liquid EP in 2011 through to the Lustrations LP in 2013, he delivered some of the most incisive music of his accomplished career — teased-out rhythms carrying exquisitely engineered textures veering from the subliminal to the visceral, locked into endless, cyclical oblivion and maintaining a stern, machinist veneer. This collection on Field Records combs through Parker's Prologue output and makes a considered selection, gathering key pieces from the first two EPs alongside six of the album tracks on a triple vinyl pressing, alongside a further eight cuts on the expanded digital edition.
Not just a straight-forward reissue, consider Epilogue a thoughtful reframing of a key point in Mike Parker's stellar career. In every exacting pulse, every inch of tacit spatial design, it's the work of an expert sculpting a sound which remains influential in the here and now.

With the release of Make a Change, their third album, Blue Deal definitively steps into the league of the greats. The German quartet delivers a perfect manifesto of Blues-Rock here, featuring all the ingredients that make the genre beautiful. It"s impeccably produced and performed, further highlighting compositions whose "hit potential" immediately catches the eye. The influences are clear and embraced (Deep Purple, ZZ Top, Bad Company) without ever veering into plagiarism. There is now a distinct "Blue Deal touch" that explains why the band is today THE reference for blues in Germany, with the potential to conquer the rest of Europe...and the world. Make a Change will be the perfect vehicle to serve this fine ambition !

Identified Patient returns to Dekmantel for a third time with his Reset EP. The future-facing four tracker is another mutant fusion of bass and techno with low-end power with cerebral sound designs.

Job Veerman debuted on the Dekmantel UFO Series in 2019, returned in 2020 and has lit up the festival several times with transportative sets that balance power with precision. Like his productions on the Nerve Collect label, he co-runs with Gamma Intel, they are leftfield explorations of genre and tempo that find strange sensuality in often abstract ideas. Once again here, the Dutchman draws on eclectic influences to craft music that sounds like no one else but remains anchored by magnetic rhythms.

Opener 'Light' kicks off with a fuzzy synth line that slithers between syncopated drums. Whispered vocals drift through the mix as lurching basslines swell and collapse beneath them. The groove disassembles and reassembles in waves, propelled forward by bursts of glitchy, off-kilter percussion that's unsteady yet seductive. 'Scales' is a slow, menacing descent into rhythmic darkness. It sounds both ancient and futuristic with ghoulish vocalisations and filtered synths flickering like a badly wired circuit. There's a rave tension lurking throughout, but always in the shadows.

'Internal Pace' drives on but rides fluid, wobbly bass while tightly looped hits build the pressure. Layers of static and subtle distortion add grit to this unrelenting heads-down roller. Finally, 'Return' is a kinetic, razor-edged ride where jungle breaks collide serpentine melodies. Ethereal female coos drift in and out, brushing against spat-out vocal fragments so that tension crackles throughout this hallucinogenic trip.

With Reset, Identified Patient reaffirms his status as a singular voice who twists sound into evocative new worlds.

"We're The Meatmen.And You Still Suck" wurde 1988 "live" aufgenommen und war zur Zeit ihres Releases das definitive MEATMEN Album. Unglaublich gut in der Qualität, wenn man bedenkt, dass es sich hier (hust, hust) um ein reines Livealbum handelt, ist "We're The Meatmen." der Sound der Band wie sie immer klingen sollte. Ohne sich auch nur einen Deut zurückzuhalten, ist dies hier aufgedrehter Punk/Metal mit dem männlichsten Mann aller Zeiten, Tesco Veer als Zeremonienmeister der Apokalypse. Die Songs sind ganz vorn mit dabei, wo die Originale "Tooling For Anus," "One Down Three To Go," "Lesbian Death Dirge" und so weiter mit fabulösen Coverversionen von "Razamanaz" von NAZARETH und "Rebel Rouser" von SWEET. Fünf Bonustracks geben dem Ganzen den letzten Schliff, der auch noch Material von 1986 mit Lyle Preslar (MINOR THREAT) in den Topf wirft.

After impressions of Unguja and Borneo islands, Discrepant's chieftain Gonçalo F. Cardoso continues his sonic travelogue on insularity with 'Impressões de Várias Ilhas’.

Literally translated as "impressions from various islands", this third tome dwells on recordings and inspirations from three archipelagos of Macaronésia. Soaking in the sounds and recollections from Azores, Cape Verde and Canary Islands these diaristic endeavours spread throughout a number of real environments, from water caves and black stone beaches and lagoons to small harbours and everyday life scenarios, to project them into this not quite imaginary but not quite real memory haze that goes from a deeply personal impression to a resonating one.

Melding raw field recordings with processed ones and synthesized landscapes, Cardoso never falters into sonic tourism, conjuring small-ish takes both vivid and dreamy, infused with a sense of wonder that feels both bewildering, comforting and escapist. The breaking waves of 'Bufadeiros de São Vicente' soothing in their irregular pattern, mingling with the lone echoing tones not completely removed from Black Dice's 'Beaches & Canyon's most pensive passages, flow into the underwater ambience and suspended pads of 'La Cueva Scuba Livre', as reflections of the same sea crashing in on different lands, nature’s psychogeography. Further on, the queasy warm chord and scraping murmurs of 'Noite em Rabo de Peixe' mirror their nighttime framing while 'Rãs em Xoxo' veers closer to pure musique concréte, crossed by a subdued feeling of unease that lingers in the nostalgia of 'Cozido da Caldeira Velha', brimming within the haze of a Boards of Canada vignette. Summoning the past lives and future hauntings of its scenery, 'Salinas de Pedra Lume' is like the quiet epic of the album, meandering into the unknown among crackling field recordings, decaying synths and flute-like howls - or is it howl-like flutes? - recurring as glimpses from foregone existences, not necessarily Gonçalo’s own. Maybe ours?

Music & Photography by Gonçalo F. Cardoso
Artwork layout by Jeroen Wille
Master by Rashad Becker

Discrepant 2025
Pressed in Spain

Editrix is a Massachusetts-rooted trio known for their wild, gnarly take on experimental rock. Blending jagged guitar riffs, unpredictable rhythms, and bursts of cartoonish eccentricity, the band creates a sound that's both chaotic and compelling. Composed of singer and guitarist Wendy Eisenberg, drummer Josh Daniel, and bassist Steve Cameron, Editrix thrives on musical risk-taking, often veering into noise-rock territory with a playful edge. On their latest release, The Big E, Editrix unleashes their fangs, resulting in a demonic wall of scuzz. But for as intense as Editrix sounds, the act is convivial and easygoing _ ingrained in deep friendships and speedy, yet jovial recording sessions. Editrix's most pummeling moments seem to be founded on a heartfelt connection, adding emotional resonance to their most feral noise. In the three years since their second LP Editrix II, Eisenberg, Daniel, and Cameron have thrived in individual states of motion _ in and away from music. New York City-based Eisenberg is an accomplished solo artist in the avant-garde realm, receiving recent acclaim for their album Viewfinder (released by American Dreams in 2024). They are also a prolific collaborator, performing in a handful of projects alongside the likes of romantic partner more eaze, Bill Orcutt, David Grubbs, and others. Cameron relocated from Massachusetts to New York City around the same time Editrix II came out, taking a slight step away from music to return to school. Daniel is the only member of Editrix left living in Massachusetts, and performs with the eclectic bands Landowner, Hot Dirt, and The Leafies. Due to Editrix being scattered, the band's new album, The Big E, found them toying with a fresh process. Editrix was quick to write off the idea of collaborating remotely, as the act relishes the warmth of happy accidents that only happen in person. The Big E sparked with Eisenberg, Daniel, and Cameron compiling a list of albums they each admire to establish a self-professed "vibe" up front. King Crimson, My Disco, and Horse Lords were a few key touchstones that shine through, their grounded grooviness balancing erraticism. Eisenberg also found themself infatuated with `70s outlaw country and Van Dyke Parks production. The Big E is titled after a comedic bit between band members, sharing its name with a prominent regional fair in Western Massachusetts, although the title-track aptly features massive E chords. When held up alongside Editrix II _ which found the act toying with Finnish death metal and harsh noise _ The Big E feels settled in its skin. Editrix recorded The Big E with legendary tech death producer Colin Marston (Krallice, Behold_, Dysrhythmia) at his soon-to-be-shuttered studio in Queens. Though these tracks sound toiled over and technical, they are very spontaneous. The majority of The Big E was captured live, with a handful of overdubs added after the fact and came to life over the course of four focused, but rewarding days. Eisenberg uses zen words like "meditative" and "evocative" to describe Editrix's methods, but the end result is crunchy, intricate, and impressively baffling. Easygoing as the band's operation may be, The Big E is a strong jump forward for Editrix inching them towards the center of the avant-rock constellation.

Motel d'amour - A Lost Electro-Funk Gem from the NDW Era Resurfaces

When we first collaborated with Collage member Markus Kammann on the EP project "Mit den Puppen tanzen" at the end of last year, we never imagined what would follow: Kammann approached us with a completely unreleased full-length album by his former band. Upon receiving the first three preview tracks, we were floored. One of them was "Nachtcafé" - a track that kicks off with a funky bassline layered over the punchy rhythm of a Roland TR-808. Add shimmering synths and Katrin A. Kunze's sharp, distinctive vocals, and we instantly knew we were hearing something special.

For a label dedicated to rediscovering lost treasures, this was exactly what we'd been searching for. The next two tracks - "Rendezvous" and "Casanova" - were just as compelling. When Kammann sent us the full album, we realized we were holding an electro-funk grail from the late golden days of the German Neue Deutsche Welle (NDW). We were listening to "Motel d'amour".

"Motel d'amour" is a concept album, offering a sharp, vibrant perspective from a confident, intelligent, and radiant young woman eager to experience nightlife, love, and music. Kunze's lyrics paint vivid scenes of flirtation ("Nachtcafé", "Rendezvous"), encounters with men ("Casanova"), the pulse of nightlife ("Die Nacht ist noch jung"), love ("Rotes Licht für rote Liebe"), one-night stands ("Motel d'amour"), and more. Rarely has a German album from that era captured emotional nuance and social dynamics so insightfully. Without veering into the overly personal, Kunze's direct, daring lyrical style was groundbreaking at the time - and remains refreshingly bold today.

While German listeners will fully appreciate the lyrical depth, the music speaks volumes on its own. Kunze's words are masterfully complemented by the production of Markus Kammann and Jürgen Grah. As heard on the in-demand "Mit den Puppen tanzen", their creativity seemed boundless. Each track is tightly composed, catchy, and full of character. While many German bands at the time leaned into rock, Kammann drew from the deep grooves of Earth, Wind & Fire, The Isley Brothers, Brothers Johnson, The Commodores, and the electro-futurism of Afrika Bambaataa's "Planet Rock" and "Looking for the Perfect Beat". The result: tracks with unmistakable electro-funk flair, powered by the classic 808 drum sound.

Though primarily rooted in funk and electro, the album retains flashes of NDW aesthetics - "Wir haben getanzt heut' Nacht" being a prime example. The instrumentation is a dream list for vintage gear lovers: Yamaha keyboards, Roland Juno-60, vocoder, Micromoog, Hohner D6 Clavinet, Fender bass, and a Telecaster guitar all feature prominently.
Recorded in 1985 at the high-profile Delta Studio by Richard Rossbach, the album attracted interest from Polydor. However, the label proposed using the compositions for a solo project with singer Inga Humpe (of Neonbabies), who was already signed to their roster. This would have required replacing Kunze as the vocalist, an idea the group firmly rejected. As a result, "Motel d'amour" was shelved, and Kammann, Grah, and Kunze moved on to form Cold End.
The album cover features a rare archival photo of Katrin A. Kunze - rediscovered by Kammann and now finally seeing the light of day, 40 years later.

We believe Motel d'amour deserves recognition alongside cult German classics like P!OFF?, 1. Futurologischer Congress' "Wer spricht?", Ami Marie's "Verrückt nach Glück", the funkier cuts of Cosa Rosa, or Piet Klocke's groove classic "Heute ist nicht sonst". It's a record that fits into adventurous DJ sets but also rewards a full, start-to-finish listen.

A note on audio quality: Sadly, the original master tapes were lost. The tracks were restored from a vintage TDK cassette. Thanks to modern digital tools, we were able to remaster them to a high standard - but in some songs light distortions remain. We appreciate your understanding and hope you enjoy this lost and undiscovered gem.

Motel d'amour - A Lost Electro-Funk Gem from the NDW Era Resurfaces

When we first collaborated with Collage member Markus Kammann on the EP project "Mit den Puppen tanzen" at the end of last year, we never imagined what would follow: Kammann approached us with a completely unreleased full-length album by his former band. Upon receiving the first three preview tracks, we were floored. One of them was "Nachtcafé" - a track that kicks off with a funky bassline layered over the punchy rhythm of a Roland TR-808. Add shimmering synths and Katrin A. Kunze's sharp, distinctive vocals, and we instantly knew we were hearing something special.

For a label dedicated to rediscovering lost treasures, this was exactly what we'd been searching for. The next two tracks - "Rendezvous" and "Casanova" - were just as compelling. When Kammann sent us the full album, we realized we were holding an electro-funk grail from the late golden days of the German Neue Deutsche Welle (NDW). We were listening to "Motel d'amour".

"Motel d'amour" is a concept album, offering a sharp, vibrant perspective from a confident, intelligent, and radiant young woman eager to experience nightlife, love, and music. Kunze's lyrics paint vivid scenes of flirtation ("Nachtcafé", "Rendezvous"), encounters with men ("Casanova"), the pulse of nightlife ("Die Nacht ist noch jung"), love ("Rotes Licht für rote Liebe"), one-night stands ("Motel d'amour"), and more. Rarely has a German album from that era captured emotional nuance and social dynamics so insightfully. Without veering into the overly personal, Kunze's direct, daring lyrical style was groundbreaking at the time - and remains refreshingly bold today.

While German listeners will fully appreciate the lyrical depth, the music speaks volumes on its own. Kunze's words are masterfully complemented by the production of Markus Kammann and Jürgen Grah. As heard on the in-demand "Mit den Puppen tanzen", their creativity seemed boundless. Each track is tightly composed, catchy, and full of character. While many German bands at the time leaned into rock, Kammann drew from the deep grooves of Earth, Wind & Fire, The Isley Brothers, Brothers Johnson, The Commodores, and the electro-futurism of Afrika Bambaataa's "Planet Rock" and "Looking for the Perfect Beat". The result: tracks with unmistakable electro-funk flair, powered by the classic 808 drum sound.

Though primarily rooted in funk and electro, the album retains flashes of NDW aesthetics - "Wir haben getanzt heut' Nacht" being a prime example. The instrumentation is a dream list for vintage gear lovers: Yamaha keyboards, Roland Juno-60, vocoder, Micromoog, Hohner D6 Clavinet, Fender bass, and a Telecaster guitar all feature prominently.
Recorded in 1985 at the high-profile Delta Studio by Richard Rossbach, the album attracted interest from Polydor. However, the label proposed using the compositions for a solo project with singer Inga Humpe (of Neonbabies), who was already signed to their roster. This would have required replacing Kunze as the vocalist, an idea the group firmly rejected. As a result, "Motel d'amour" was shelved, and Kammann, Grah, and Kunze moved on to form Cold End.
The album cover features a rare archival photo of Katrin A. Kunze - rediscovered by Kammann and now finally seeing the light of day, 40 years later.

We believe Motel d'amour deserves recognition alongside cult German classics like P!OFF?, 1. Futurologischer Congress' "Wer spricht?", Ami Marie's "Verrückt nach Glück", the funkier cuts of Cosa Rosa, or Piet Klocke's groove classic "Heute ist nicht sonst". It's a record that fits into adventurous DJ sets but also rewards a full, start-to-finish listen.

A note on audio quality: Sadly, the original master tapes were lost. The tracks were restored from a vintage TDK cassette. Thanks to modern digital tools, we were able to remaster them to a high standard - but in some songs light distortions remain. We appreciate your understanding and hope you enjoy this lost and undiscovered gem.

Once again, Riba left everyone bewildered with a work that, on its own, gave early substance to what would eventually be known as roc català, of which Riba may well have been its most authentic representative. The album was recorded in the winter of 1975 with the help of the same group of musicians who had accompanied him a few months earlier at a concert at Zeleste to debut new songs: a mix of Valencian musicians from bands like Paranoia Dea and guitarist Eduardo Bort's group. "Electròccid àccid alquimístic xoc" marks a shift in Pau Riba's sound-now electrified and fully embracing rock with nods to Lou Reed, Ray Davies, and Kevin Ayers, but the core of "Electròccid_" is defined by Riba's own authorship. With lyrics that veer from poetic to absurdly ironic, Riba explores themes like the moon, the stars, death, love, women, the devil, and the bourgeoisie-fueling the originality that made him such a unique artist. It's striking how naturally and effortlessly Riba incorporated the Catalan language into the rock idiom-and vice versa. First vinyl reissue in over four decades!

After the explosive Comme à la radio, infused with the free jazz energy of the Art Ensemble of Chicago, Brigitte Fontaine and Areski Belkacem released six albums together or separately between 1972 and 1977. Their music, often stripped down to voice, guitar, and percussion-or performed a cappella-stood in stark contrast to the orchestrated French pop of the time. This minimalist and spontaneous approach highlighted the poetic power of the lyrics and the intimacy of the melodies, earning them recognition in the counterculture and underground scenes. By the end of the 1970s, Fontaine sought to make her work more visible without losing its originality. The Baraka album marked this transitional moment, initially recorded in a home studio without external musicians. Its title (meaning "blessing" in Arabic) hinted at a desire for success. Mixing introspection, absurd humor, and bold stylistic choices, the album was technically ambitious, featuring stereo duets and layered vocals, and lyrically rich, tackling everything from metaphysical themes to playful nonsense. However, the project ultimately veered off course. After moving the recordings to the massive Studio Davout and bringing in producer and guitarist Martial "Mimi" Lorenzini, the album lost its original intimacy. Overproduced arrangements clashed with the simplicity of Fontaine and Belkacem's initial intent, resulting in an album-renamed Les églantines sont peut-être formidables-that the artists later disowned, refusing to allow its commercial release. Recently rediscovered demo tapes, stripped of their bombastic layers, reveal the raw, emotional core of the songs-showcasing the duo's voices with a rare authenticity. These recordings bridge a missing link in their discography, between their experimental lo-fi years and their later, more accessible work. Decades on, Fontaine and Belkacem remain defiant originals, never settling into a formula, always evolving, and continuing to shake the foundations of French chanson.

After over 50 events of Bristol's beloved Club Blanco, the city's anointed high priest of night, Chez de Milo, is crystallising his party's dimension-hopping hedonism into a label, calling on an extended family of esteemed producers and musicians to make it happen.

First up is Johnny Aux, aka Quinn Whalley (Paranoid London, Sworn Virgins, Decius), delivering two offerings accompanied by remixes from Jamie Paton and Chez de Milo himself.

Supersonic blends a hyperspace bassline with euphoric 90s synth elevation that delivers us to a blissful dance floor crescendo, where you've been dancing for hours—maybe days— when the sun appears over the horizon and pierces through the club's blacked-out windows. Chez de Milo's re-rub wraps you up vines of a living, breathing forest, where all your favourite flora and fauna summon you to the dappled light of a clearing, front left of the booth.

On The Train locks you into a rolling groove, and electro slaps and smacks. It feels covered in equal parts space dust and the dust of an old crate of records, where this forgotten banger has been buried deep for 25 years, waiting for the right hands to pull it out. Jamie Paton veers off down a stranger track, conducting a driving Italo beat with eerie soundscapes dissected by lasers and a brooding bassline.

Zig Zags have been an L.A. institution for over a decade, never veering from their hard-riffin punk/metal mission statement. They’ve gigged all over the globe with underground luminaries such Mike Watt, Neurosis, Pig Destroyer, Oh Sees and Feral Ohms and recorded collaborations with icons like Iggy Pop. Now the power trio is set to release their fifth incendiary full-length album, Deadbeat At Dawn, named in honor of the beloved B-movie, a no-budget action revenge flick set in the mean streets of suburban Ohio. Cult cinema is an enduring Zig Zags inspiration, with the band frequently calling out exploitation films in their lyrics, odes to teen-delinquent classics like “Over the Edge” and dystopian sci-fi such as, “Terminator” and “Total Recall”. The new album sticks to this obsession with the cultural underground, riffing on everything from demonic minions to apocalyptic visions and alien attacks. The result is the most focused, intense, and catchy Zig Zags album yet, with the timing perfect for their distinctly melodic and maniacal call to arms. Finalizing recording and mixing just as the catastrophic fires hit their hometown in L.A., Deadbeat At Dawn is the perfect soundtrack for a city rising up from the ashes of destruction. “I feel lucky that we got to put out this record when we did,” Maheu said, “It’s heavy and gnarly and kind of fucked up, but it’s also a lot of fun—which is how we feel about Los Angeles.”

"Kindred spirits and loyal soldiers on the frontlines of the dub war Detroit's 2Lanes and Los Angeles' Cromie link up to present to the world, Destiny Cloud. With a project name inspired by a mystical vacant storefront in Cromie's neighborhood of Altadena (still standing after the fires, bless), the guys formed like a storm after being intro'd by a notorious LA promoter and hotboy producer matchmaker. Funnily enough, the first session was foiled by a missing cable, so it wasn't until the sexy summer of 2023 that the cloud seeds that went on to become Sun Phase/Moon Phase were planted. From the jump, their vision was lucid and their objective collective: lock in at the stu(s) to make the most jiggy, psychedelic, tripped out club shit they could muster. Fast forward to today, Destiny Cloud is proud to bring you the latest missive on 2Lanes' Auto Shop imprint.

On the A side, Sun Phase sets it off with searing stabs from the hands of session killer Ji Hoon on a heavenly Jupiter-8 (sorry not sorry, the real thing does sound better) before a bassline straight off the Adriatic's Argonaughty comes in to funk up the flow over a bed swung hi-hats and drum circle conga lines the Wickedest west coast house heads can appreciate (no hippy shit, but we ARE on Hipp-E's dick). A keep-it-simple-stupid *muah' organ line plays nice with a gang of embellishments to take this one through its duration (Joey pressed record and said "ooh-wah" into the vocoder; no lie, I was there). With his Toxic Love remix, NYC upstart DJ John Brooklyn injects the tune with the highest grade octane to up the revs. The aforementioned organ becomes a timeless trance lead, and new pipes are inserted reminding us all that house music is forever.

Day turns to night on the B Side with Moon Phase, where booming kicks let you know off the rip that this is some real deal late night trunk funk. We're talking dualities here y'all; Cromie's deep-as-the-Pacific bassline meets Joey's frozen-lake-cold Detroit stabs as the drums speak in tongues with those on the other side of the slab. Reverb ghosts and rhythmic acid have this one veering more psychedelic without losing the jiggy factor, while diving proggy synths will have the Global Underground saying, "yea this is our shit, for real." With a run time that allows for maximum fun time, the ambient outro gives you a kiss on the forehead to put that ass to sleep. The iconic DJ Miss Parker takes the wheel on the remix, taking this one straight down the Tunnel with new-school/true-school Tenaglia-isms that wouldn't sound out of place in 2000, 2005 or 2025.

Like all the work we do, this one's a team effort. Salar Ansari put's his deft touch on the mixdowns and Jack Anderson blesses the center of both sides of the disc. Out mid-May, just in time for when things start heating up

The Oh Sees wasted no time in racing headlong into nightmarish battle with the mighty Orc, clawing even farther up the ghastly peak stormed so satisfyingly by their previous A Weird Exits. The band is in tour-greased, anvil-on-a-balance beam, gut-pleasingly heavy form, nimbly braining—with equal dashes of abandon and menace—on this fresh batch of bruisers and brooders, hypnotically stirred into to the cauldron of chaos you’ve come to expect. On Orc, fresh blood Paul Quattrone joins Dan Rincon to form a phalanx of interlocking double drums, alternately propelling and fleet-footing shifting ground to pinion John Dwyer’s cliff-face guitars to the boogie. Tim Hellman keeps it swinging like a battle-axe to the eyebrows. The tunes veer toward the violence of their live shows, with a few tasty swerves into other lanes: heavy to lush, groovy to stately. Throughout, it remains sinister in its swaggering skulk, manic in its fuzz-fried fugues. They hit all the sweet spots the heads foggily remember, and there’s plenty to sweat over if you just hopped into the sauna. More evil…more complex…more narcotic…more screech… more blare…more whisper…there’s even more Brigid. Less “Thee,” but more of everything else.

Stylish, intelligent and cinematic, the second series of the cult UK TV series UTOPIA in 2014 reinforced the impact of Emmy Award winning
Series 1 and gained the show an even larger following. Integral to the action is Chilean composer Cristobal Tapia de Veer's original music
for the programme, recognised by the Royal Television Society who awarded it Best Music (Original Score), Record Collector who gave
it five stars and Mojo who placed it at No. 4 in their Top 10 Soundtracks of the year.
This record was originally released for Record Store Day 2015 and is repressed on a new colour by popular demand. Cristobal Tapia de Veer’s
music has more recently found a new audience with his soundtrack to HBO hit show The White Lotus and the film Babygirl (2024).

Ziúr lines up with The Tapeworm for an exclusive cassette-only release featuring Kenichi Iwasa, exploring the electroacoustic realms.

Invited to perform solo at Tarek Atoui's performance series at Kunsthaus Bregenz in October 2024, Ziúr decided to write a new piece for the occasion. This composition, 'Turn Liquid Into Dust', was then performed within the framework of Tarek Atoui's 'Waters' Witness' exhibition as an 8-channel spacial audio piece, transmitting sounds through the installation's structure – metal bars, stones, compost piles… Composed in London in autumn 2024, its principal source of sonic material is recordings of Atoui's instruments which Ziúr had recorded in his studio in Paris during the summer of 2024. In addition, she invited the Japanese woodwind player and virtuoso Kenichi Iwasa to join on all pieces, his contribution providing a binding element, tying the pieces together.

Opener 'A Cold Drip' consists solely of Iwasa's spectral squalls. The tense noir drone of 'Long Call' features a string instrument built by Atoui. For the airy yet dense title track, Ziúr recorded an organ named The Reed Box, with Iwasa floating atop its smoggy soundbed. Closer 'Chips 'n' Crumbles' echos and reverberates with the rattles of household items Ziúr found around her home.

Driven by a relentless appetite for boundless experimentation, Ziúr has been subverting expectations since she was a teenager, corkscrewing through hardcore, metal and punk before veering towards electronic music's turbulent fringes. She produces just like she DJs, gathering a wide variety of ingredients and figuring out the most intriguing, unexpected ways to simmer them into a coherent narrative that helps listeners synchronize the conflicting messages that surround them. Genre isn't a fixed point for Ziúr, but a colour in a vast palette that stretches across history and borders, helping illustrate music that's powerfully subversive. Her The Tapeworm edition follows acclaimed recordings for Planet Mu, PAN, Objects Limited and Hakuna Kulala.

Kenichi Iwasa is a London-based improviser and multidisciplinary artist from Japan, also known for his legendary Krautrock Karaoke night as well as collaborations with visual artists and musicians such as Beatrice Dillon, Maxwell Sterling and Linder Sterling. He currently performs with Naima Karlsson under the name Exotic Sin.

Mit seiner Band Santiano hat Hans-Timm „Timsen“ Hinrichsen nicht weniger als acht #1-Alben in den deutschen Charts platziert. Am 25. April erscheint das Solo-Album: „Vun Hier“
Und doch ist der Sänger ein unglaublich bodenständiger Typ. Die Gründe dafür sind vielfältig – und haben doch alle einen Ursprung: seine Herkunft. Timsen wuchs als Bauernsohn in einem kleinen Dorf auf der schleswig-holsteinischen Geest auf. Noch heute lebt er in einem Dorf in der Nähe von Schleswig.

Seine Heimatverbundenheit ist nicht nur geographisch:
Plattdeutsch ist Timsens Sprache des Herzens und ein wesentlicher Teil seiner Identität. Wenn er zählt, heißt es nicht „Zwei und Zwei ist Vier“ sondern „Twee un Twee sünd Veer“. Mit seinem Soloalbum „Vun hier“ geht Timsen neue Wege und doch zurück zu den Ursprüngen. Ein Album voller Heimatklänge, aber auch voller Offenheit. Timsen zeigt sich hier als eigenständiger Künstler, der Tradition mit neuen Einflüssen verbindet – echt, direkt und ganz vun hier.

'Sexy Tears' is a bold departure from Tristanne's (fka Tristan) critically acclaimed pop-jazz debut Wellif and lets you veer into uncharted territory, from the first tone, the bittersweet and haunting violin tones fade in on opener 'Steady Mouth'. In a split second, Tristanne lets you vanish in a dazzling matrix deep down a rabbit hole, a place where Piero Umiliani's 70s sleazy giallo era sensually resonates with Oneothrix Point Never goldwave frequencies. With a whisper of panting tension, her soothing voice and sonic subliminal temptation she unravels her own lush love secret domain, unlocking deeply hidden lost emotions and mutated feelings.

While mellifluous harp chords in 'If Only' set a scene for a tantalizing new world utopia the percussive clutter of 'Whordus' syncopes and mutate this future dream with a chiastic slide into a videodrome for a jilted generation.

With the help from her musician friends Elisabeth Klinck (violin), Indr? Jurgelevi?i?t? (kanklès), Kaat Vanstralen (flute) and Gert Malfliet (drums), Tristanne's 'Sexy Tears' will hit you straight in the heart, like a modern-day Cupido with a well aimed dazzling sonic arrow. Ready to stay there forever.

Under her stage name Tristanne (formerly known as Tristan), Isolde Van den Bulcke makes music she defines as sitting in a 'grey zone'. By valorizing self-reliance and learning as much as possible from the get-go, the musician and producer hasn't let hardship nor pursuing a niche genre hold her back. She studied jazz vocals for 8 years, released 2 ep's before her debut album 'Wellif' in 2022.

Recommended if you like Piero Umiliani on a Sunday morning, Broadcast on the beach, Oneohtrix Point Never in a romantic mood, Autechre on Ice, Ennio Morricone on LSD, and Pierro Piccioni popping perks.

It’s a decidedly busy time at INVINC HQ at the moment with the 10-year anniversary looming in May.
The six months preceding this date are peppered with a flurry of releases every couple of months, which started with the Mondo Ritmo EP that came in October, the Gamma Knife LP in December and now this brand new album by Sordid Sound System, which lands early March before a rather promising sounding 2xLP compilation lands in May to mark the occasion. 


It’s been a good few years since something by Sordid Sound System aka Stuart Evans has been released on the label and it’s a welcome return. In our opinion it's some of Evans’ best work and so it’s a pleasure to have him back on board the good ship Inc. 


Remarkably, this music is even harder to pigeon-hole than usual...even for Stu, who’s known for his raw, analogue, live takes that veer between dub and post-kraut this is definitely quite "different": part surf acid, part dub, part psych-exotica, part motorik...and that's just the A-side. The B-side leans more towards ambience but of the oddball experimental soundtrack variety...a thoroughly enjoyable ride.
Enjoy the trip.

On his Discrepant debut Memotone aka Bristolian Will Yates collects some unreleased recordings under a most aptly titled name - »Pruning« - following a healthy stream of releases for such esteemed labels as Black Acre, The Trilogy Tapes or Soda Gong.

Considering the process of pruning as a practice of selective removal, the album takes its name at face value never falling into a mere collection of tossed off material or random B-side assemblage, making it a cohesive listen throughout its disparate timeframe and evasions.

A statement about Memotone's vision itself, »Pruning« veers closer to his Fourth World/ECM/Exotica meets Sci-fi transmutations in alignment with what would be expected from a Memotone release on Discrepant. »Moss Zone« briefly sets the tone with a warm but queasy synth bedsheet that flows into the »Weird Figures« cyber- jungle, all small twinkling percussions and rainforest pads slowly rising. 'Riders' brings the synth-flute to an early Warp meets John Hassell's »City: Works of Fiction« scenario that pops up again in more disrupted form on »Wisdom MOTHER«. »Not What I Thought's« skewed tropical guitar gets going on lo-fi percussion and dissonant synth chords while »Jim Starling and The Inverse Church« bring to mind »Autoditacker« era Mouse on Mars going jazz-fusion. Or what we should expect from their Smalltown Supersound stint. »Beach Scene« is exactly it, as the sun sets into »Come In Don't Mind the Ghost« summer night's stars with all the allure of Stereolab.

Alluring, that's exactly it. Do come in.

Its sound veers away from raw black metal intensity, opting for expansive, dreamy
atmospheres. Damian Anton Ojeda's signature approach tempers the harshness of
black metal's usual bleakness with a delicate sense of beauty and melancholy. The
album builds around shimmering guitars and lush soundscapes, creating a sense of
longing rather than the frostbitten aggression typically associated with the genre.
A key characteristic of "I Want to Be There" is how the screamed vocals--reminiscent
of depressive black metal--are mixed to blend seamlessly with the instrumental layers.
This intentional obscuring of vocals, pushed toward the back, transforms the vocals
into another textural element rather than a dominant force. This aesthetic decision
diffuses the emotional weight usually carried by extreme metal vocals, steering the
listener away from despair and toward introspection.
The balance between black metal's darker elements and post-rock's ethereal qualities
gives this record its emotional depth. The opening and closing tracks, "In the Distant
Travels" and the title track, lean more heavily on black metal structures but never fully
embrace the genre's typical harshness. Instead, the fuzzy guitars and crashing
cymbals are imbued with hope and uplifting energy. The post-rock influence becomes
more pronounced in tracks like "I Want to Be With You," which forgoes black metal
vocals entirely in favor of a choral atmosphere, evoking a serene and heavenly quality.
Ojeda also demonstrates his talent for creating immersive soundscapes, drawing
comparisons to *Sigur Ros*. Both artists employ sweeping melodies that evoke
feelings of transcendence. Still, where *Sigur Ros* tends to embrace more overtly
uplifting and sentimental tones, Sadness anchors these grand moments in
melancholy, avoiding overindulgence. The album is a delicate dance between light and
shadow, making the listening experience emotionally rich and layered.
While it may not have the raw emotional punch of *Deafheaven* or the nostalgic
charm of *Alcest*, *I Want to Be There* stands as a polished and thoughtfully
composed entry into the post-blackgaze genre. Ojeda's ability to fuse the weightless
hypnosis of black metal with the airy beauty of post- rock results in a sound that is
both familiar and new. Sadness offers a captivating and often beautiful exploration of
blackgaze, making the album a worthwhile listen for fans of atmospheric and
introspective metal.

Limited vinyl release for aya's 2021 Hyperdub-debut album, a one-time pressing on Ecomix random colour-mix recycled vinyl. Originally released in 2021 as a book and digital album, im hole is now presented on ecomix splatter-effect vinyl. A welcome reminder ahead of new aya music in 2025. On im hole, aya distilled the incisive sonic experimentation of her early run of releases, the tongue-in-cheek giggles of her DJ sets and edits, and the identity-fluxing lyricism of her live shows. The album was immediately championed from all corners, 'Best New Music' in Pitchfork to DJ Mary Anne Hobbs Album of the Year, followed by incredible live shows which drew new listeners further into the net. Contorting language, dialect, gender and sexuality between intermittently controlled bursts of rhythm, noise and aural goop, aya sculpted a set of autobiographical vignettes that challenge established norms, question supposed truths, and affirm a spectrum of interlocking experiences. But while it's wide open and personal, im hole also challenges queer art's tendency to veer towards repetitive solipsism. Even the title itself references the unwieldy mix of self-actualization and sexualization that bogs down cultural perceptions of the trans experience. It's neither one thing nor t'other, just as much a sly nod to dissociative afterparty sloppiness as it is any self-congratulatory pinkwashed grandstanding. The music follows suit, fragmenting familiar sounds, twinned with familiar words, assembled in unfamiliar ways, full of sharp humour, even in the middle of despair. Stories are muddled with phonetics just as dubstep is macrodosed with microtonal drone.










j B4. If [redacted] Thinks He's Having This As A Remix He Can Frankly Do One

Yuksek Releases Second Album Titled "ii" Under His DESTIINO Alias on Lumière Noire. Driven by a desire to expand and in some way reinvent himself and his sound the album veers between downbeat, ambient house, a dark strain of disco and industrial electronica.

Prolific Norwegian trumpeter and ECM veteran Arve Henriksen returns with Estonian guitarist/composer Robert Jürjendal in tow, matching his idiosyncratic shakuhachi-style melodic condensations with Jürjendal's glassy electro-acoustic soundscapes and sonorous percussion.

Henriksen releases a lot but is remarkably reliable; his playing is so versatile that hearing it dematerialise into different ensembles and individual methodologies is always a treat. Jürjendal is a veteran guitarist, but doesn't approach his instrument from a purely classical standpoint, taking a Fripp-inspired path towards texture, processing and looping his sounds until they're barely recognisable. The duo share a similar love for Hassell's Fourth World ambience, and here inject new life into that mood.

Jürjendal's percussion is impressive: he offsets cascades of oddly-tuned electronics on 'Tuonela' with booming, ritualistic tom hits that punctuate Henriksen's melancholy phrases; and on the brilliant 'Ancient Bells', plays a set of gongs and gamelan-style instruments, creating swirling hammered tonal clusters that quiver beneath Henriksen's echoed-out, spirited improvisations. It's not always that corporeal, either; on 'A Remarkable Flow', he loops guitar phrases, creating gentle vibrations that rumble in the background while he mirrors Henriksen's pitchy zig-zags with high-pitched oscillator vamps.

Even on the peaceable 'Miraculous Lake', discreet kalimba loops set a celestial tempo that anchors the duo's gaseous soundscapes. And although they veer towards end-credits loveliness on the Göttsching-influenced 'Reunion Hymn', it’s balanced by the album's darker passages, like 'Rebirth' and 'Another Me'. On the latter, Henriksen's trumpet is transformed into a voice-like warble, while Jürjendal replies with glacial E-bowed drones that resonate creepily alongside his lysergic FM pads.

Free jazz poetry by a spry, 85 year old Joe McPhee, adapting his renowned improvised practice to words - juxtaposed with Mats Gustafson’s sparing brass and electric gestures. It’s an utterly timeless and transfixing salvo, another shiny notch for Smalltown Supersound’s Le Jazz Non Series.

As a common ligature to the OG free jazz scene of ‘60s NYC, with formative binds to its European offshoots and the experimental avant garde, Joe McPhee is a true force of nature who has represented jazz at its freest over a remarkable lifetime. In duo with Swedish free jazz and noise standard bearer Mats Gustafson, he upends expectations with an astonishingly vivid and upfront example of his enduring contribution to freely improvised music. In 11 parts he variously reflects on everything from the neon sleaze and scuzz of NYC to contemporary US politicians and laugh out loud imitations of his previous sparring partners such as Peter Brötzmann, with a head-slapping immediacy that leaves you reeling, spellbound.

McPhee’s flow of rare, organic cadence, ranging from urgent to contemplative and dreamlike, is blessed with a unique turn-of-phrase that surely mirrors his decades of instrumental work. Gustafsson, meanwhile, dextrously takes up the mantle with a multi-instrumental spectrum of sounds, leaving McPhee unbound and able to float and sting on the mic. There’s obvious wisdom in his perceptively penetrative observations, as derived from a rich cultural life well spent, but also a playful naivety and levity in his ability to veer from almost melodic speech to explosive aggression and a knowing, bathetic wit. It’s perhaps hard to believe that McPhee only started incorporating and performing spoken word in his work in the past ten years, a half century since his declaration of “What Time Is It‽” announced his arrival on a legendary debut ‘Nation Time’ (1971), ushering in one of free jazz’s most singular characters in the process.

Oscillating between discordant reflections on life as a touring musician, set to Gustafsson’s skronk and culminating in a snort-worthy imitation of Peter Brötzmann’s gruff German accent, on ‘Short Pieces’ or the glowering growl and noise exhortations of ‘Guitar’, he evokes a more sweetly consonant calm in ‘When I Grow Up’ and eerie threat of ‘The Dreams Book’, and viscerality of ‘Disco Death’, where Gustafson’s tonal versatility comes into hugely mutable play, whilst McPhee’s extraordinary, unaffected voice is a constant. It’s perhaps McPhee’s balance of cool measuredness and wellspring of barbed energies that allows us, at least, to get the most out of this one; not stifling with mannered or manicured enunciation that can trigger certain icks; keeping close to the nature of spoken word in a way that avoids cliche and becomes inherently critical of it within his purposeful, non-hesitant clarity and unflinching approach.

The third album Fort Sensible by Brisbane alt-rockers Tape/Off is a genuine labour of love, a passionate dose of opinionated heart-on-sleeve rock’n’roll representing not just a place but a time with its cache of meticulously-crafted guitars, robust rhythms and socially-conscious lyrics mining both the personal and the political.

While musically they veer seamlessly between intricacy and intensity their words cut straight to the quick, the songs caustic and catchy in equal measure, making Fort Sensible by far the most ambitious and accessible album in the band’s storied decade-plus history.

Tape/Off’s first two albums - Chipper (2014) and Broadcast Park (2018) - were both longlisted for the prestigious Australian Music Prize, yet Fort Sensible takes the tried and tested Tape/Off aesthetic to a whole new level as the band seek to both share the creative load and fully harness their innate collective chemistry.

The guitars of Nathan Pickels and Ben Green weave together like an electric tapestry, the resultant soundscapes both intricate and ambitious whilst still entirely capable of busting out massive riffs with the best of them, their inherent simpatico now built upon by years of experience playing off each other. From a rhythmic perspective Tape/Off's propulsive drummer Branko Cosic's immense power and Cameron Smith's robust, expressive basslines combine to provide the perfect rhythmic bottom-end throughout the record.

Excitingly Tape/Off's sonic palette has been broadened substantially on the new album, with Pickels' angry and angst-laden diatribes throughout Fort Sensible now augmented by Green and Smith taking vocal turns at junctures, adding a whole new dynamic and dimension to proceedings.

At a time when our leaders seem lacking and the world needs the redemptive powers of art and music more than ever, Tape/Off announce themselves as a serious force to be reckoned with the uncompromising power and beauty of Fort Sensible!

Cold Blow proudly presents Bonus Beats: Rare & Unreleased Finnish Electro 1990–2002, a landmark compilation capturing Finland's underground electro scene from the late 1990s and early 2000s. This double-LP features 9 rare and 3 previously unreleased tracks from pioneering Finnish artists, showcasing a distinctly Nordic approach to the genre. With contributions from notable names such as Jori Hulkkonen, Mr. Velcro Fastener, Mono Junk, and the late Mika Vainio, this release highlights the experimental and DIY ethos that defined Finland's electronic music scene during this period.

Carefully curated by Erkko Lehtinen, a key figure in Finland's electro scene as a DJ and promoter, the compilation explores a broad sonic palette, spanning early techno influences, robotic allure, and dark, bass-heavy tracks. Standout contributions include Decepticons and Dr. Robotnik's unreleased dark electro cuts, with the latter veering into minimal wave territory. Feng Shui feat. Monsieur delivers a striking collaboration that fuses a trance-like lead with raw, industrial beats, uniting members of Huoratron, Nu Science, Polytron, and Op:l Bastards. Keeping alive the legacy of Perttu Häkkinen (aka Randy Barracuda), this release wouldn't be complete without Imatran Voima's bass-driven anthem from their debut EP. Also featured are Spektor's retro synth experiments, Tero's Commodore 64-based creations, Brothomstates' (later a Warp signee) futuristic soundscapes, and a rare cover of Kraftwerk's The Model by the anonymous duo Markus & Kristian. Erkko's extensive liner notes provide additional insight into this culturally and musically significant era. Available in double-LP, this collection is a must-have for electronic music aficionados and vinyl collectors.










j 10: Feng Shui - Hao Hao (I`m Back) feat. Monsieur

From minimalistic murmurings to swarming walls of sound... 113 is an experimental ambient(electronic)/drone(rock) project from The Netherlands. One can liken the Tilburg-based trio Drone Assembly as much to an ongoing science expedition as a musical project. Standing over an impressive assortment of instruments and gear, the members coalesce until becoming - in their own words - a ‘living organism’; synths, looping stations, effect pedals are combined with organic percussion, acoustic instruments and vocals in a probing, conversational way.

Indeed, each performance by Drone Assembly is a completely unique sensory experience. Over the five years since the project’s beginnings, Drone Assembly have performed in all kinds of unusual settings. And in doing so, they defy conventional hierarchies between performer and listener. Each show comes from a level of improvisation, Drone Assembly use the impressive collection of sounds and textures at their fingertips with utmost care and conviction. The result is music that ebbs and flows along the emotional beat of the moment, veering from soft mellow passages, hypnotic swells to resonant walls of noise.

Vinyl release, hand numbered with an unique silk screen printed cover, including insert, download code (also to an exclusive live video of the first four tracks) and sticker.

Since first bonding over Slowdive at a Texas karaoke bar six years ago, musicians Uriel Avila and Jonathan Perez have grown trauma ray into Fort Worth's foremost flag bearer of crushing shoegaze. A five-piece rounded out by bassist Darren Baun, drummer Nicholas Bobotas, and guitarist Coleman Pruitt, the band's debut album, Chameleon, captures their evolving sound at an apex of majestic devastation. A fusion of downer hooks, gauzy melancholia, and bulldozer riffs, the album heaves and crashes across 50 minutes of stacked amplifier alchemy. Lyrically the songs trace similarly lofty and brooding terrain; Avila says "The theme is death. And a chameleon, like death, can shape-shift in and out our lives in different forms." Chameleon opens with "Ember," dreamy and distant, alternately anthemic and apocalyptic, defeated and deafening. Lead single "Bishop" perfectly encapsulates trauma ray's depth and dimension, ripping out of the gate with "the biggest, baddest, saddest wall of sound." Lyrics about being burnt at the stake and "tossed in the flame" float above a stop-start assault of precision distortion, eventually expanding into a lush, heavy, sorrowful end coda. "Spectre" is a mysterious, introspective dirge, envisioned as a "mellow, slowcore, Duster-thing," all feeling and heavy fuzz chords (with no lead guitar). Avila wrote it, "to be a hymnal" from the perspective of someone who won't let go - a ghost, an ex, a shadow self. Although the album is rich with subtleties, graceful lulls, and "breaths of air," the band's three guitar attack is its defining force, a power flexed to its peak on "Bardo." Perez's intentions were blunt: "I wanted to write a riff that was hard as fuck." The result is alternately mean and eerie, veering between noisy one string bends and surging headbang, mapping a middle ground between Unwound and early-Deftones. One of trauma ray's greatest gifts is their ability to make doomy, sledgehammer heaviness sound like an earworm, without production tricks or gimmicks: "Riff, verse, chorus, three guitar parts - that's all you need." This quality is particularly apparent on the title track, a churning slab of amplifier worship, swirling chords, and heavenly, defeated vocals about not belonging, shape-shifting, and death ("A twisted face / Void of attention / An empty space / In your reflection"). "U.S.D.D.O.S" closes the album, swaying across seven minutes of grey skied guitar and haunted voice, subtly thickening as it deepens. Feedback and shrapnel gradually begin raining down, like a satellite disintegrating in the atmosphere. Titled as an acronym after a poem by Chilean writer Roberto Bolaño that loosely translates to "a dream within a dream," the melody softens, smears, and then disappears, slowly swallowed by the gravity of eternal descent. Chameleon is a masterpiece of craft, balance, melody, lyricism, and gravity, flexing a fresh vision of loud-quiet-loud architectures and the vertigo depths of blasted harmonics. From Slowdive to Nothing, to Hum and beyond, the band absorb and expand on their influences into a rare and dedicated alchemy. trauma ray's cinematic tempest is a gathering storm only just taking flight.

Since first bonding over Slowdive at a Texas karaoke bar six years ago, musicians Uriel Avila and Jonathan Perez have grown trauma ray into Fort Worth's foremost flag bearer of crushing shoegaze. A five-piece rounded out by bassist Darren Baun, drummer Nicholas Bobotas, and guitarist Coleman Pruitt, the band's debut album, Chameleon, captures their evolving sound at an apex of majestic devastation. A fusion of downer hooks, gauzy melancholia, and bulldozer riffs, the album heaves and crashes across 50 minutes of stacked amplifier alchemy. Lyrically the songs trace similarly lofty and brooding terrain; Avila says "The theme is death. And a chameleon, like death, can shape-shift in and out our lives in different forms." Chameleon opens with "Ember," dreamy and distant, alternately anthemic and apocalyptic, defeated and deafening. Lead single "Bishop" perfectly encapsulates trauma ray's depth and dimension, ripping out of the gate with "the biggest, baddest, saddest wall of sound." Lyrics about being burnt at the stake and "tossed in the flame" float above a stop-start assault of precision distortion, eventually expanding into a lush, heavy, sorrowful end coda. "Spectre" is a mysterious, introspective dirge, envisioned as a "mellow, slowcore, Duster-thing," all feeling and heavy fuzz chords (with no lead guitar). Avila wrote it, "to be a hymnal" from the perspective of someone who won't let go - a ghost, an ex, a shadow self. Although the album is rich with subtleties, graceful lulls, and "breaths of air," the band's three guitar attack is its defining force, a power flexed to its peak on "Bardo." Perez's intentions were blunt: "I wanted to write a riff that was hard as fuck." The result is alternately mean and eerie, veering between noisy one string bends and surging headbang, mapping a middle ground between Unwound and early-Deftones. One of trauma ray's greatest gifts is their ability to make doomy, sledgehammer heaviness sound like an earworm, without production tricks or gimmicks: "Riff, verse, chorus, three guitar parts - that's all you need." This quality is particularly apparent on the title track, a churning slab of amplifier worship, swirling chords, and heavenly, defeated vocals about not belonging, shape-shifting, and death ("A twisted face / Void of attention / An empty space / In your reflection"). "U.S.D.D.O.S" closes the album, swaying across seven minutes of grey skied guitar and haunted voice, subtly thickening as it deepens. Feedback and shrapnel gradually begin raining down, like a satellite disintegrating in the atmosphere. Titled as an acronym after a poem by Chilean writer Roberto Bolaño that loosely translates to "a dream within a dream," the melody softens, smears, and then disappears, slowly swallowed by the gravity of eternal descent. Chameleon is a masterpiece of craft, balance, melody, lyricism, and gravity, flexing a fresh vision of loud-quiet-loud architectures and the vertigo depths of blasted harmonics. From Slowdive to Nothing, to Hum and beyond, the band absorb and expand on their influences into a rare and dedicated alchemy. trauma ray's cinematic tempest is a gathering storm only just taking flight.

mindSET is the ninth album from enigmatic producer SW., directly following this summer’s excursion into his trademark techno, IDM and bleep soundscapes, on the myDEFINITIONS Vol II album. But with his mindSET album SW. takes a left turn, as pioneers often do, and we find ourselves on the lesser traveled side roads of electronic music history. Or in SW.’s own words: “the more abstract leftfield elements.”
It’s in these less-defined areas that SW. finds his sweet spot, building dancefloor soundtracks that defied definition. And with mindSET the sounds and the machines might have changed, the methodology remains the same.
“It draws from what was more generally seen in leftfield as a term for the slightly off-kilter house and broken beats that didn’t fit neatly into classic genres, whether that was Chicago house, French garage, drum and bass, or broken beat. It’s more about those in-between sounds that never really took off, only appearing briefly in the early to mid-90s and then quickly disappearing. There was a certain magic in that moment, which I wanted to capture. Also, the entire album was produced using classic analog equipment, with old machines that were used during that era. That’s the approach I’ve taken.”
The eight tracks on mindSET are shaped out of de-tuned techno pop synths and heavy, syncopated drums, grooving along chopped-up polymeters to create an eerie mood, as if orbiting an undiscovered planet for the first time. The harmonic movements are often bent out of shape, sometimes veering towards Gherkin Jerks or Cristian Vogel territory. But in the end, the sounds are less important than the atmosphere, and the tracks represent an attitude or an approach - to creating the music as well as experiencing it. mindSET is a nod to those dancers sharing an oddball moment, and for those of us on the same wavelength, it's a vibe we can all get inside.

Four years after their Discrepant debut - 'OOOO' -, Lisbon-based travellers Jibóia return to the fold with another offering of globetrotting psychedelia with 'Salar'. With the core trio of Óscar Silva, Ricardo Martins and Mestre André augmented by a stellar parade of collaborators on various roles, 'Salar' further expands on the transglobal visions by now pretty trademarked by the band. Intersped among shorter vignettes for drums, saxophone and bass, each of the more fully fleshed tracks casts a guest to elevate Jibóia's music to uncharted realms - both in a mystical and geographical sense.

Opener 'Selar' summons the cello of songstress Joana Guerra for a skewed dialogue with Silva's guitar, propelled by Martins' drums and percussion and André's electronic textures into 4 minutes and 20 seconds that feel epic - if there was any psychedelic numerological symbolism needed. On 'Solar', Silva's non-western plucking rides on for Yaw Tembe's trumpet to veer in a multitude in directions, while the mysterious 'Sitar' conjures the voice of moroccan musician Ayoub El Ayadi for a contemplative nighttime prayer. Elsewhere, guitarist Rui Carvalho aka Filho da Mãe injects dissonant guitar lines unto 'Sarar's pummelling dance and Pedro Augusto's electronics hover below the shapeshifting dynamics of 'Sonar', among mesmerising keyboard lines. 'Salir' featuring Daiyen Jone enchanted flute brings the album to a close at its most reflective, all crepuscular synth lines and reverbed handclaps.

MOVIE MOVIE takes the listener on a cinematic journey in their songs. They combine elements of power pop, '60s, '70s, and '80s garage, classic, alternative, and glam rock, but they have a sound all their own, with afocus on strong hooks and melodic vocals.

MOVIE MOVIE was formed in NYC in early 2022 by Derek Davidson (formerly of THE ELECTRIC MESS), and includes former members of other popular NYC and internationally known bands, including Andrea Sicco (TWIN GUNS) and Frank Caira (THE ABOVE), with Alan J. Camlet (also from THE ELECTRIC MESS). They recorded their debut 6 track EP "Now Playing" (Ghost Highway/KOTJ), over the summer of 2022, with the addition of Dave Amels (REIGNING SOUND) on keyboards.

They quickly followed it up with a full 10 track LP, "Storyboards" (Topsy-Turvy), completing it in early 2023, and they toured Spain later that year to well-received shows and receptive audiences. Around that time they went back into the studio and recorded the 10 tracks that would become their second full LP, "In 4-D!" (Topsy-Turvy), for release in late 2024. Again, they emphasize their cinematic flashback approach in the sequencing, with a wide range of styles along the way, beginning with '60s garage, through pop psychedelia, glam, New Wave, post-punk, and even veering into stadium rock territory (in the best sense) by the end, all filled with ear worms and indelible vocal arrangements and harmonies.

2024 REPRESS

Fourth corner. Physically, it's where four states in the U.S. come together at one singular point. Symbolically, it's where the four great rivers in China come together as one. Or, it could be the cycle of life during the four seasons of the year. For Trixie Whitley, it's a metaphor for trying to find balance and belonging from the songs that make up her scintillating debut album, Fourth Corner.

Whitley burst into public consciousness in 2011 as the lead singer of Black Dub, super-producer Daniel Lanois' (U2, Bob Dylan) project, blowing people away with a voice and presence beyond her now-25 years.

And it's that voice: an emotional, blues-drenched instrument that ranges from a lilting slap to a knock-you-backwards uppercut. On Fourth Corner, Whitley explores the range of human emotion in another set of four: utter love, total rage, unadulterated happiness, and crippling loneliness. "It's those elements of life I keep coming back to," she says. "Both as a person and musically as well."

Recorded in New York with producer/keyboardist Thomas Bartlett (aka Doveman, who's also worked with Glen Hansard, Antony and the Johnsons, Grizzly Bear and the National) engineer Pat Dillett (David Byrne, St. Vincent, Mary J. Blige), and string arrangements by Rob Moose (Antony, Bon Iver), aching songs like "Need Your Love" have Whitley working from a spare beginning that explodes into a blossom dripping with pleading vocals and delicate piano. On tracks like the sassy "Irene" and the sinister "Hotel No Name," Whitley lays down a snarling guitar line on top of scuzzy beats while her voice veers from defiant to remorseful.

It's a tantalizing mix of sounds that can come only from someone who says: "I'm from everywhere but have never felt like I belong." Whitley lived a nomadic life: born in Belgium, she split her time growing up there and in New York but also frequently visiting family in France, Texas, and Mexico. Her mother came from an artistic European gypsy family, filled with musicians, painters, writers, and sculptures, while her father, renowned singer-songwriter Chris Whitley, thrust her into the world of music as a toddler when she joined him onstage in Germany at age three.

After a few years of touring and recording experience with some of the most inspiring artists around, Trixie is ready to presenther anticipated first solo full length.

"I'm psyched and petrified," says Whitley in her archetypal wide-eyed wonderment mixed with a fierce determination. "As a songwriter, I want to go to places people don't expect and with that is complete freedom of expression." Perhaps that place is another version of a fourth corner: something spiritual perhaps, certainly emotional, but most definitely real.

Marking sixty years of Bossa Nova, and twenty years since Marcos Valle’s first release for Far Out Recordings, what better time to bring back this era-defining classic from the Brazilian master composer?

Throughout his astounding six-decade career, infiltrating pop, bossa nova, samba, delicate psychedelia, jazz and funk, Marcos Valle has consistently shown a dogged determination to transcend the traditions and structures of bossa nova, whilst never veering away from the movement’s inherent, fundamental spirit. To some extent, his epithet ‘the original Rio beach boy’ is a handy one: it reflects the origin and character of his often sun-soaked sound, but expounding his importance in the lineage of Brazilian music, he is more discerningly known as ‘the renaissance man of Brazilian pop’. He is indeed one the very greatest and most important composers, arrangers, writers and performers in Brazil.

Up until Nova Bossa Nova, Marcos Valle hadn’t released an album for well over a decade. After 1983, he resented the way the music industry had changed with commercialisation and new demands curtailing his creative freedom. This was until 1994 when Marcos met Far Out boss Joe Davis and they recorded a track for Far Out’s first Friends From Rio album. This new collaborative partnership resulted in a new solo album, which commenced recording in 1996.

Nova Bossa Nova brought Marcos bouncing back into the 90s, slotting nicely in place alongside the acid jazz movement as well as a voracious new demand for Brazilian music on dancefloors from London to Tokyo. It was witnessing the London club scene’s growing appetite for Brazilian music, as well as a lack of new sounds coming out of Brazil at the time, that a young Joe Davis put in a proposal to record a new album with one of his musical idols. Joe wanted to facilitate an album which would combine the latest technologies and production techniques, with live to analogue tape recording: a Marcos Valle album tailor-made for London’s clubs. Always open to modern influences and possibilities, Marcos agreed to the project, and Joe and his production partner Roc Hunter flew to Rio in ‘96. The record wasn’t released until ’98, as the original ½ inch tapes were stolen from Far Out’s London studio, meaning parts of the album had to be re-recorded.

Nova Bossa Nova was unveiled at the peak of the of the Brazilian movement, the record would also prove to be something of a revolution, inspiring a new generation of artists like Bebel Gilberto, Sabrina Malheiros, Da Lata and Bossacucanova, who continued to fuse Brazilian influences with modern electronic sounds.

The album opens with a 13 minute improvisation titled “The Time Is Now For Change”. As Ranelin , Belgrave, and Harrison exchange flurries of notes and squeaks over improvised chaos from the rhythm section, the group builds to a spiritual high that calls to mind the best Albert Ayler recordings. Bebop lines and unison phrases occasionally rise to the surface, offering a glimmer of familiarity in what is largely a harsh soundscape. Yet what sets Ranelin (and indeed, all of his Tribe contemporaries) apart from the larger free and spiritual jazz scene at the time is their sense of rhythm. Even as Harrison evokes sounds that would make a Meditations era Coltrane blush, the drums stay in time, and the looping bass and piano riffs take on an almost hypnotic quality, repeating quietly under a whirlwind of sound.

Later tracks see the ensemble veer into soul jazz, and jazz-funk, with “Black Destiny” perfectly highlighting the group’s ability to meld the avant-garde with grooves that you won’t be able to stop yourself from tapping your foot to. Members of the Tribe were well known for their appreciation of African American popular music, and the influence of groups such as Sly And The Family Stone is clear in the song’s edgy rhythms and dense sound.

This double LP reissue also contains alternate versions and outtakes that are so good you’ll be wondering why they were originally left out! With modern remastering, three bonus tracks, and an obi-strip, you don’t want to miss the definitive version of Phil Ranelin’s The Time Is Now! "