90's techno legend Bryan Zentz, also known as Barada, is back on Sonic Groove with a killer mini LP release. Spanning a wide spectrum of classic techno sounds-from deep, dark, brooding acid, jacking techno, into beautiful, self-reflective Detroit techno-this record is a testament to his timeless artistry. If you're a purveyor of American techno and acid rooted in tradition but modernized to today's high-quality production standards, then this is a must-have release for your collection.
On their third album, FANGS, London collective HMLTD have created an entirely new genre: Götherdammerüng (or ÜberGöth). Predictably unpredictable, it could not be further away from their last outing, 2023 rock opera The Worm. The sixteen-piece orchestra has been traded in for Ableton, the timpani and violins replaced with side-chained four-to-the-floor and rave synths, and the gospel choir swapped for guttural gothic howling and black metal screams. The result is both unique and terrifying: a total reinvention and rehabilitation of the goth genre, through the looking glass of modern electronic and doomscroll-era dance music.
This new beginning was accompanied by a change in personnel, with Theo Spark and Andrei Martynchyk joining the fray alongside original members Henry Spychalski and Duc Peterman. Decamping to a ruined château in the Loire Valley, the quartet became obsessed with vampire lore, and the EBM and goth sound that inspired their early work: Fad Gadget, DAF, Nitzer Ebb, Suicide and Bauhaus. FANGS also points to more contemporary influences like Crystal Castles, German hardcore, 2000s blog-house a la Justice, and 2020s sleazepop.
The world crafted in FANGS is full of cosmic pessimism, glowing horror, imperceptible evil and digital dismemberment, ancient curses and ruined castles, Vampires. But it is also a thoroughly fun, and funny, record, as danceable as it is deep. Born of the club, some tracks would not sound out of place on Brat. Like a Smiths song which sounds happy and carefree until your brain tunes in to the misery of the lyrics, it can be listened to - and enjoyed - on two levels. One can get lost in the throb of bass and ludic synths, or tune into the horror of the lyrics which overlay them.
FANGS attempts to offer up a reflection to a culture that - like a Vampire - has lost its own. The result is something not only thoroughly modern, original, and inventive - but that feels genuinely dangerous and potent. FANGS delights in this ambiguity: simultaneously indicting decadence, decay, and moral rot, while luxuriating in its intoxication by it. Cacophonous sub-bass becomes a chthonic call of the void; seraphic rave synths become the screech of Valkyries; four-to-the-floor becomes a deathly funeral march. Vampire apocalypse.
On their third album, FANGS, London collective HMLTD have created an entirely new genre: Götherdammerüng (or ÜberGöth). Predictably unpredictable, it could not be further away from their last outing, 2023 rock opera The Worm. The sixteen-piece orchestra has been traded in for Ableton, the timpani and violins replaced with side-chained four-to-the-floor and rave synths, and the gospel choir swapped for guttural gothic howling and black metal screams. The result is both unique and terrifying: a total reinvention and rehabilitation of the goth genre, through the looking glass of modern electronic and doomscroll-era dance music.
This new beginning was accompanied by a change in personnel, with Theo Spark and Andrei Martynchyk joining the fray alongside original members Henry Spychalski and Duc Peterman. Decamping to a ruined château in the Loire Valley, the quartet became obsessed with vampire lore, and the EBM and goth sound that inspired their early work: Fad Gadget, DAF, Nitzer Ebb, Suicide and Bauhaus. FANGS also points to more contemporary influences like Crystal Castles, German hardcore, 2000s blog-house a la Justice, and 2020s sleazepop.
The world crafted in FANGS is full of cosmic pessimism, glowing horror, imperceptible evil and digital dismemberment, ancient curses and ruined castles, Vampires. But it is also a thoroughly fun, and funny, record, as danceable as it is deep. Born of the club, some tracks would not sound out of place on Brat. Like a Smiths song which sounds happy and carefree until your brain tunes in to the misery of the lyrics, it can be listened to - and enjoyed - on two levels. One can get lost in the throb of bass and ludic synths, or tune into the horror of the lyrics which overlay them.
FANGS attempts to offer up a reflection to a culture that - like a Vampire - has lost its own. The result is something not only thoroughly modern, original, and inventive - but that feels genuinely dangerous and potent. FANGS delights in this ambiguity: simultaneously indicting decadence, decay, and moral rot, while luxuriating in its intoxication by it. Cacophonous sub-bass becomes a chthonic call of the void; seraphic rave synths become the screech of Valkyries; four-to-the-floor becomes a deathly funeral march. Vampire apocalypse.
Tommy Lefroy has never been afraid of existential questions. From their critically acclaimed debut EP, Flight Risk, the band has captured audiences with their candor wrapped in wit. Both lyrically intimate and sonically vast, the band’s catalog is confessional and commentative, balancing irony with sincerity. They broach their biggest subjects yet on their first full length album, The Precariat. An economic term, the precariat refers to a growing class of people facing increasing instability. “Most people we know are experiencing an unprecedented level of precarity, permeating into the collective psyche. We feel like the best we could strive for in a body of work is an unflinching capture of the moment. The Precariat felt like the perfect title, and emblem of how it feels to be alive these days.” Recorded in Los Angeles at Blue Canyon Studios, The Precariat was produced by band members Wynter Bethel and Tessa Mouzourakis, with co-production from Stephen Sesso, and executive production by Mike Crossey (The 1975, Wolf Alice, MUNA). The album’s songs were written by Bethel and Mouzourakis, over the tenure of their friendship, across apartments and tour vans, phone calls and late night conversations. With themes of friendship, coming of age, personal and collective grief, environmental uncertainty and political decay, The Precariat offers a sonic landscape in which to contend with our rapidly changing world. The album’s title track (largely inspired by Springsteen’s critical narratives mistaken for bleeding heart patriotism) grapples with constant exposure to global suffering, and feeling entrenched within systems that fail us. “The Precariat” disintegrates into the ‘American cities’ outro, an idea started while the band lived in London, about missing home while watching it destabilize from afar. The Precariat faces this head on – all the sheen of the American empire has worn off, and there is much work to be done. “We hope to foster an antidote to precarity – community.”
IGNEA explores nostalgia on their upcoming album, Monumental (October 23, 2026, via Napalm Records). The Ukrainian four-piece navigates through unique facets of the past—from the grandeur and ambition of Cold War space dreams to the melancholy of urban decay and forgotten modernist structures, all the way to the emotional weight of personal and collective memory. All lyrics on Monumental were written by vocalist Helle Bohdanova. Mixing and mastering were handled by Grammy Award-nominated producer Jacob Hansen (DELAIN, Amaranthe, Volbeat, Amon Amarth, Arch Enemy, and more). Monumental is IGNEA’s second full-length that was written during the full-scale war in Ukraine. The recording process mostly took place in the winter of 2025-2026, during icy temperatures and long power outages in Kyiv.
Function has long since cemented his legacy in the underground world but it's always worth reminding yourself where an artist's story began. In David Summer's case, that's with this EP, which dropped on Damon Wild's Synewave, who now reissue it in full, 30 years on. It's an impressively fully-formed sound for a debut: 'F1' is a jacked-up techno rhythm with a fat bassline and frazzled synths that bring it to life. 'F2' is a more experimental and beatless piece with modular pulses, echoing frequencies and decaying sine waves then 'F3 rides a dreamy dub rhythm that undulates gently amid some gorgeous sustained pads that recall Thebes of Detroit. 'F4' comes with more Millsian-style minimal that fires up your brain.
Since the release of DAMAGED in 2024, Michael Fiedler aka GHOST DUBS has been surfing intensifying waves of adulation, earning praise from such diverse underground legends as Justin Broadrick (Godflesh/Jesu), Regis, Stefan Betke (Pole) and Steve Von Till (Neurosis). With second album Oblique, his mastery of sculpting sound waves results in a spellbinding set of alien soundscapes: larger in scale, richer in tone and considerably more cinematic than its predecessor. Lower, deeper and moodier, its cloudy abstractions, shadowy pulsations and submerged rhythms find Fiedler reaching further into his own sonic void, crafting blurred melodies and addictive narco loops into something simultaneously heavyweight and hypnotic.
Lead single and album opener “Low Times” sets the atmospheric pressure to maximum, resembling a dream date between prime dirt-house era Andy Stott and Berlin dub-tech pioneers Basic Channel. From there, Oblique descends into a series of enchanting mood scenes: the furtive, balletic gyrations of “After All”, the haunting ambience and buried heartbeat throb of “Soft Collapse”, and the noirish atmospherics of “Blackout Dust”, which worms its way into the mind like some forgotten David Lynch scene. The spirit of reggae is more distanced here than on DAMAGED, but the ghost of Jamaican dub still permeates these foggy soundscapes, particularly on “Bombed Suburbs”, where Augustus Pablo-style melodicism is chopped, screwed and slowed into a magnetic lock groove.
Superficially minimal but maximal in its minute detail, Oblique is a record of contorted reflections, mesmeric echoes and tantalising audio mirages. By the vaporous mist of closing track “Almost a Structure”, obvious rhythm has been craftily filtered away, leaving a blurred and blunted residue full of mystery and implied narrative. Dense in the best possible sense and crushing when played loud yet equally potent played quiet, Oblique imagines dub techno burning its own rigid rulebook: sensual, funky and concussive rather than dry or alienating. Following Fiedler’s recent work scoring Sound of Falling, recognised at Cannes in 2025, Oblique finds Ghost Dubs shedding his influences and making it clear he has arrived at a sound entirely his own — essential deep listening and a bewitching dose of future shock.
As Eerie Enterprise, upsammy and Piezo have funnelled their singular styles into a classic-feeling but ultra-modern album of elegant, angular electronica. With a strong melodic sensibility and a highly developed palette of playful sound design in their toolkit, the unexpected pairing grew spontaneous jams into a considered collaboration, and Places Remember Events is the end result.
Individually, Thessa Torsing and Luca Mucci have carved out strong identities within contemporary electronic music. As upsammy, Torsing has applied a delicate precision to ambient and uptempo approaches alike, building up a striking catalogue of releases including her 2020 LP for Dekmantel, Zoom. Meanwhile, Mucci has taken a wayward path through contemporary bass music and techno that matches edgy sound design with playful unpredictability. As Eerie Enterprise, both artists tap into their respective creative instincts while arriving at a unique sound with a nurturing quality they were both missing from modern dance music.
Having appreciated each other's work for some years, in July 2024 Torsing and Mucci seized an opportunity to carve out two days in the studio. There was no expectation of an end product, but the sketches conceived during those open-ended, hardware-oriented sessions felt worthy of a deeper exploration developed and finalised over the following year-and-a-half.
Places Remember Events has an unapologetically nostalgic streak, calling to mind the warm glow of melodically-charged, golden-era electronica. The twitchy rhythmic make-up of tracks like 'Decay + Collapse' and 'Folding Origin' speak to the duo's shared affinity for ravey energy, but even within faster frameworks they lean into half-time space to maintain a light-footed agility that allows the relatively busy arrangements to feel grounded and patient rather than frantic.
There's an appreciation for mystery in the emotional make-up of many of the tracks, not least in the slithering textural exploration and spatial tension of 'Capsule', but elsewhere fragile melancholia guides the melody direction of 'Superradiance' and 'Things Fall Upwards'. The final impression is crisp and modern while delivering an accessible experience that seeks to soothe rather than shock when so much contemporary club music tips towards uneasy intensity.
Finding malleable approaches to their chosen sonics and applying them to intentional song structures, Eerie Enterprise collectively land on a sound that promises a lasting reward for the repeat voyager — satisfying headphone gear in the grand tradition of introspective electronic music, but also with a physical immediacy that will manifest in the live set upsammy and Piezo have put together to perform later in the year.
From the depths of Rotterdam's machine soul, Gerd returns with Plasmic Echo - a four-track transmission drifting between submerged dub atmospheres, decayed textures and hypnotic late-night pressure. Released on Frame Of Mind, the EP moves through dense fog, frozen delays and low-end currents with precision and restraint. Deep, spacious and subtly psychedelic, Plasmic Echo balances stripped-down rhythm tracks with immersive atmospheres and pulsing analog textures. Built for dark rooms, long blends and those moments where time starts to dissolve into the groove.
WHIMM formed around the shadowy heart of the Toronto post-punk underground over a decade ago. The partnership between Mounir Al Shami and Andrew Matthews has emitted sporadic musical shards over time, while slowly evolving into something so much bigger than its beginnings. Ideas seep out of every corner of No Promotion, showcasing a burning desire to explore and challenge while delivering very direct sonic offerings. The result is an album that feels as if you took the entire Coil discography and smashed it into pieces, assembling these precious songs from the fragments. Or as if Vangelis beckoned Section 25 to the studio in hopes of recording the score to a seedy film. The resulting LP is in a state of flux – equal parts motion and decay.
Patrick Flegel, of Cindy Lee, welcomed Al Shami and Matthews into REALISTIK Studios in Montreal to engineer half of the tracks for the album, including lending guitar to the opening track "Five in Decline." That influence is evident early on, as the first three songs are taken from those sessions. "Five in Decline" throbs and barks before racing through the hallways closing in around it. "Another Labour" slows to a spidery waltz as anxious melodies call out to one another. "Returnal" pulses, floats through the night sky and haunts you forever. "Rye" carves a percussive pathway toward similar travellers like Terry Riley and Jon Hassell, before the lament of "A Death Remembered" forms the perfect midpoint for the record. A slow build countered by twitching drums and blanketed by organs recorded at Metropolitan United Church in Toronto, it feels like emotion right on the edge of resolve.
"Rhymes of December" screeches through on a solitary train under the towering cityscape as the flickering lights blur past, its doors opening to the candlelit altar of "After the Last Sky" (those beautiful organs again) with an operatic swirl. "K'20" throws you into a claustrophobic and chaotic cab ride (Who is talking? Are those sirens?) until you finally find the quiet of the early morning, waiting at the window for the sun to join you once again as the first notes of "No Promotion" are delicately plucked. The final song from the Flegel sessions, it is over eight minutes of contemplative beauty. A restless heart that is ready to rest. Closing with a final apparition in the key of The Caretaker, "After the Last Sky (Reprise)" is a return to melody when words lose all meaning.
Al Shami and Matthews weave their lyrics throughout, words describing a search for lucidity, and of reactions and reflections. Al Shami – speaking from the Palestinian diaspora – ruminates on displacement, both personal and collective. His journey from having "been without a land and I can still see clearly" in "Rhymes of December" to a more defiant "we will be back again, no matter how it ends or where we've been" in "Returnal" takes a very insular turn on No Promotion. That sense of alienation pulls at the very center of a relationship when land and circumstances separate: "And after our last breath, all that's left in me is our flesh and fears, your last words would swim for years, you'll never find a home in me." Hearts on the outskirts that know the direction.
Originally released in 1990, as a triple album in box set with probably the best work THE KLINIK ever did. A selection of their musical works all recorded between 1984 & 1988 and never released before, the box came as a limited edition in 1990 and was sold out in no time, and therefor very rare and hard to find.
Now Antler Records has revisited the box, remastered into a sound experience like you never had before; 6 sides packed in newly designed inner sleeves with band photo's (by Inge Bekkers) that have never been published before. 6 sides, three heavy weight vinyl albums in one extra broadened single album sleeve. Cold electronics, shivering spheres, minimal and highly atmospheric, a soundtrack for a still to be made film. A sound experience like you never had before!
The Klinik is Marc Verhaeghen-Music & Dirk Ivens-Lyrics
All Tracks recorded in the Lab between 1984 & 1988
Digitally Remastered in 2026 by Pieter De Wagter(Equus)
After inaugurating Saibai with the Samurai Music sub label's first release in 2025, Brendon Moeller returns with a new six-track excursion into the realm of splintered dubwise electronics. 侍栽培六 arrives alongside a partner release on Samurai Music, offering a subtle distinction of expressive, internal reflections that widen the landscape of Moeller's unique, prolific take on experimental soundsystem music. There are codes of classic dub that creep through the moody hinterland shaped out across these new works, and they inject warmth into the relatively forbidding atmospheres Moeller shapes out with eerie drones and chasmic reverb decays. The bassline on 'Disintegration Suite' has a steppas-like propulsion begging out for a mammoth rig loaded with heavyweight subs, while 'Fate's Rhythm' bristles with skeletal percussion rattling in the middle distance. 'Signal Path's synthetic murmurs of melodica and liberal spring reverb come straight from the Perry-Tubby school of sound sorcery. Of course, these ancient inflections are only part of the picture. Moeller's affinity for head-nodding half-time immersion and tense scene-setting define 'Dislocation' while his techno instincts guide the psychoactive arps modulating through 'Magnetic Sleep'. Every track has its own nuanced complexities, reference points and alchemical fusions bedded into a cohesive, brooding universe of sound that exponentially expands around his studio. Alongside the steely structures of Codebreaker, 侍栽培六 adeptly pushes at the observable edge as he leads us into unexplored space.
Fanzine Records presents Xuntanza Vol. VIII, the eighth instalment of our series For this new chapter, Promising/Youngster, Featherstone, Jauzas The Shining, Noamm and Kafkactrl come together for a five-track release that continues the spirit of Xuntanza: bringing together different artists and perspectives around a shared passion for Electro. Xuntanza Vol. VIII will be released on October 3, 2026 Pressed on vinyl and released by Fanzine Records. Five artists. Five visions. One Xuntanza.
Forty years of cassette releases, pressed for the first time on vinyl
First of two instalments exploring the previously unreleased sonic archives of one of Poland’s most enigmatic
living artists - with its first volume focused on his deep listening practice and spiritual reverie (recorded 1990–2013)
The last time Andrzej Dudek-Dürer took a banknote bearing the face of the Polish anarchist Jarosław Dąbrowski from his pocket to trade it for a pair of shoes was in 1969. He bought them for 120zł - the equivalent of 100€ today - and never replaced them since then. Only rebuilt them, year after year, drawing a needle and thread through the leather each time it split, closing one wound before the next one opened. It became a ritual of precision, stitching a record of another year into their soles.
That same year, in Wrocław, he arrived at a conclusion that would recalibrate everything that followed. Convinced he was the reincarnation of Albrecht Dürer, he adopted the surname Dudek-Dürer, stopped cutting his hair and began wearing the same garments every day. It was the first ritual of many, though he wouldn't have called it that yet. Look closely enough, over the decades, and it is always the same gesture, returning in different material: hair growing in a single unbroken strand, a needle drawing thread through leather, sitar strings pulled taut across a neck he built with his own hands and magnetic tape spooling forward inside the cassette boxes stacked against his walls.
None of this began in a vacuum. Dudek-Dürer emerged from the Wrocław neo-avant-garde, in a Polish art world where an exhibition could be cancelled overnight by the stroke of a censor's pen. In 1973, his exhibition Auto-crucifixion was shut down by the state, and for a time he found himself blocked from exhibiting his own art at all - the one force in his life that ever came close to cutting the thread.
He seemed to experience it differently. In 1974, after long, patient research into sitar craftsmanship, he built his first prototype with his brother, a knowledgeable luthier. In 1978, in a smoked-out jazz club, he took his first steps into sound recording with the unreleased album Jazz From Underground with his first band. By 1979, recognition started to travel further than he could.
Turning toward Far-Eastern philosophy, meditation and the idea of reincarnation was another language of freedom for him. It was a way of claiming an inner territory the state could not reach, a border it could not close. Mail Art served a parallel function, reaching further out: in a country that restricted travel and expression, sending and receiving art through the postal system became an act of quiet rebellion.
The body, in his understanding, is only an envelope readied for constant transformation. From this came Metaphysical Telepathy: during the years he could not leave Poland, he treated that confinement as a rehearsal room, sending his mind out ahead on the same thread his body would later follow. Living Sculpture grew from the same root with performances of stillness beside static art objects, until the boundary between the object and the man beside it simply dissolved. Camera Meditation extended the same instinct into photography: a shutter click flattening three dimensions into two so that a single instant could be held forever. Inspired by the pioneers of self-portrait photography like Robert Cornelius, he used it to document time itself, and kept explaining to me: "You know. This is not about vanity. This is about observing time passing.”
The isolation did not end suddenly. It ended the way his own philosophy had already predicted it would, from the inside first. Mail Art quietly solved the problem politics couldn't. Correspondence built during years of confinement slowly worked its way through doors the state itself had kept locked. Contacts made through folded paper and stamps became invitations. Ultimately, invitations became passports.
In 1983 he made his first trip outside Poland, to Germany, in search of the audio technology he couldn’t get his hands on before. In 1985, he was invited by the Indian embassy in Poland to give a sitar concert on an instrument he had spent a decade patiently stringing together - half sitar, half tanpura, built from patience and determination. After the collapse of the People's Republic of Poland, the travels kept unspooling: South Korea, then Mexico, then Australia, Canada, New Zealand, Singapore, Japan and the United States - each stop leaving behind its own small knot of tape, tied off and carried home.
In the decades since, recognition arrived at the same unhurried pace: he conducted workshops at UC Berkeley, served as vice-president for artistic affairs of the Union of Polish Art Photographers and the Union of Polish Visual Artists between 2010 and 2014 and received the Bronze Medal for Merit to Culture - Gloria Artis. His visual work gradually entered collections including the National Museums of Warsaw, the Stedelijk Museum, Tate Modern, MoMA and the Venice Biennale. His musical practice, by contrast, never found that kind of room - left to circulate quietly, sharing his cassette tapes directly, waiting for someone willing to follow it further.
It took months before I could find a way to reach Andrzej Dudek-Dürer - his presence online is very close to nonexistent. Surprisingly, LinkedIn turned out to be the only door still open, a faintly absurd irony given everything else about him. I packed the strict minimum for a three-day trip and an empty notebook and made my way to Wrocław. His headquarters sits in the neighbourhood of Grabyszyn: a two-storey pre-war house that has belonged to his family for generations. The man who opened the door was long-haired, long-bearded, in his trademark leather shoes and patched jeans. We sat in his living room, in front of a computer where decades of recordings sat organised in cryptically named files, surrounded by books and objects that had arrived one layer at a time, leaving room for only two chairs in the middle. His shoes sat by the door, rebuilt so many times they had become their own quiet sculpture. Cassette tapes filled boxes against the walls, almost unlabelled, each one a spool of thread holding decades of sound that had never once been asked for, until now.
I listened for hours: meditating in front of strangers on the porch of a Seoul temple until the tourists stopped taking photos and simply waited with him; a stand-off with border guards at the US–Mexico crossing over an instrument they couldn't identify and didn't trust; a session with the Stockhausen family that he still, decades later, describes like it happened last week. All of it interrupted, occasionally, by the smell of soup boiling and fresh bread warming on the ceramic stove. After two days, it felt like being handed the end of a very long thread and asked, gently, to keep following it. I left with a USB drive holding his full discography, signed with his unmistakable signature.
Astral Meditations From A Living Statue is a length of that thread, drawn out from the boxes stacked against his walls - recordings gathered from different rooms, different countries, different decades. This first record breathes slowly: incense-thick, meditative, built for stillness. A cutting-edge séance in outer space where machines learn how to dream.
It begins with the neo-classical improvisations of Andrzej, space-delayed, recorded at Klub Muzyki i Literatury in Wrocław in 2002. 'When..So' opens the curtains with a deep-rooted meditation accompanied by slow-decaying piano figures illuminated by a candle-lit spirit gathering.
Los Angeles, 1990: a dormant villa, a grand piano, the voice of Bonnie Barnett. 'Exception' is captured in a single room, in a single afternoon - voice and keys circling each other, neither one leading, until the silence between the notes starts to feel like the instrument.
'The Meta...' and 'Tired Of...', recorded at Studio Morandi in Ponte Nossa, Italy, in 1992, settle into a sitar drone built entirely from patience - overtones stacking and beating against each other, strung by a man who never once set foot in India. 'Mastery Of...' follows, recorded the same year at Studio Suski in Łomianki, pushing that same hum further still, until pitch dissolves into a spectral reverie. 'Transcendental Sound', from 2000, closes the first record in a slow bath of celestial frequency - better heard beside the shores of the Odra river.
More than fifty years after deciding that a life could become an artwork, Andrzej Dudek-Dürer continues to inhabit that decision. His shoes keep wearing thin against the earth's crust. His hair keeps growing, one strand at a time. His cassette tapes keep spooling in the dark of their boxes.
Now the thread finds its last shape: a single unbroken groove, spiralling inward from the outer edge to the label at the centre. Never cut - the way nothing else in his life ever was. Drop the needle and it will find that groove and follow it, the same way a needle once followed leather, once followed a border it couldn't cross, once followed string into an instrument that didn't exist until he built it. This record is the other end of a thread that has been travelling for fifty years. For the length of both sides, it rests here, in your hands. This is a timeless proof that the Lord of the New Age was never lost."
There's an eerie yet exciting limbo in which rave culture has decayed enough to shift and meet alien sensibilities, becoming a medium for entirely different meanings. We could call it "doom jungle" though that label doesn't quite reach the real core of the matter. Pushing the envelope again and again toward the true epicenter of the emotional spectrum's abyss, it feels like reaching a dimension where boundaries collapse, and different sonic languages converge into something consistent and coherent, a portrait of the very bottom of the human soul. Stepping into FREAKS puts you exactly in that place: everything is rusty, raw, and muddy yet incredibly seductive. Both XHL UNIT and VIRUS VOICE (aka Luciano Lamanna) carry a vast range of influences behind their electronic arsenal, most of them drawn from the darkest and hardest fringes of the musical world.
Put out on the circuit in 2011 as a collaboration between Leipzig's Flop Beat Disk and the
Alphacut subsidiary operating under the name Alphacute this limited to 200 copies split 7“
vinyl features contribution by both Thee Vaporizer as well as Romanian producer Yvat.
Whilst Thee Vaporizer operates in a grey area between Glitch, lo-fi IDM, decaying
DarkJungle x Breakcore and cheesy melodies with an almost childlike positivity Yvat
brings on a rather distinct take on fragmented, highly detailed Glitchtronica with a
signature Phonk twist.
Limited pressing of 200 copies on turquoise vinyl.
Luis Reich and Max Wurden's Reverence traverses superb ambient and electroacoustic territory with sustained tones, radio interference, fragmented speech and plenty of harmonies that shift almost imperceptibly. 'Sono' opens wide with drones meeting distant brass, before 'Lens' marries brooding bass pulses with floating brass top notes that pass by like half-remembered thoughts. The title track strips everything back to a sparse, suspended core and 'Horfunk' brings damaged broadcast noise to a textured soundscape. 'Studio Blue' closes out slowly and patiently with plenty of sonic decay. A subtly dramatic record.
Consummate selector DJ Sundae returns to Efficient Space with Nothing Ever Was, an immaculate compendium of phantom independent melancholia spanning '60s/'70s village green folk, outsider shoegaze and new millennium domestic pop. Each recording an emotional exorcism, Sundae breathes oxygen into music that was barely there in its own time, made in quiet places and crawl spaces, shared only with a precious few via private presses, hobby labels and now-decaying CD-Rs.
Free of any prescribed epoch, continent, scene or rarity, Noughties homemade indie pop opens both sides with the 4-track wonders of The Motifs and Betelmire, unlinked contemporaries finding their place alongside Andrew Jay's Crazy Horse rust, the regional-garage adolescence of Pauline Scribner and the anaesthetised Mancunian guitar-poetry of the late Quigley.
The remaining coordinates zigzag between the UK and US. Folk wayfarers John Strang & Valentine Lewis Lloyd, Virgin Insanity, Kusudo & Worth and Penny Wager's spartan Garden of Eden acoustica find their mirror in Empress and Slumber's close-quarters indie pangs. Chicago power pop fixture Phil Angotti is caught at his most tender, while Teri Rini takes the final bow with her universe-stopping hotel lounge torch song.
A deeper, more personal exploration of Sky Girl's sentimental songwriting, Sundae found himself amassing a cache of tracks too undeniable to remain confined to his anonymous mixtapes for TTT, P.A.M. and Good Morning Tapes, or bi-monthly hour on NTS Radio. Again his emotional sorcery draws together an unlikely cast, their unwritten narrative assembled from fragmented memories of past lives left behind by future horse trainers, ketamine therapists and Fab Four cover band careerists.
With not a second squandered across 1LP, it took a village to bring this new companion into being, with David Bergot's forensic audio restoration, dreamlike imagery from Matthieu Crozier, Ivan Liechti's elegant design and a perceptive foreword by kindred spirit Jessica Pratt.
To celebrate the LP’s anniversary, Delusions Of Grandeur have re-pressed a limited run of heavyweight black vinyl, which comes complete with an exclusive 10’’ with Session Victim themselves revisiting two of the album’s standout cuts (Dark Sienna and The Haunted House) plus a Quarion remix of Bison, giving them a fresh spin for 2026.
Expired Signal is a transmission from the edge of decay—where forgotten frequencies, fractured rhythms, and fading memories collide.
On this new EP, Farres & Vultur explore a new sound between House & Techno with a touch of Electro & Acid all mixed with some deep atmospheric pads.
Across the release, distorted textures, hypnotic sequences, and industrial atmospheres & fatbasslines. Each track feels like a recovered fragment from a forgotten future, balancingtension and melancholy with raw dancefloor energy.
Featuring a special collaboration with Lourene, the EP reaches a deeper emotionaldimension, blending haunting vocals with the duo's signature experimental sound design. Theresult is a collection of tracks that resonates between darkness and light, nostalgia and futurism.
Techno innovator Regent has already made his mark on Mutual Rytm with two previous outings highlighting his refined but powerful style. The Berlin-based artist joins the dots between bold percussive grooves and distinct cerebral layers, with his productions continuing to receive wide support from DJs and tastemakers across the globe. This return to SHDW's flourishing label features one of his most anticipated tracks to date - a truly timeless warehouse anthem that marks an exciting new chapter for both Regent and the label.
'Permean' is a raw but sophisticated piece of techno that merges powerful drums with hypnotic pads. It brims with surgical sound design. While the groove is fierce, a haunting melodic touch adds a soft and deeply emotional edge
as Regent explores the tension between permanence and decay, delivering a timeless and essential track.
The first remix comes from Steve Rachmad under his Sterac guise. This version channels the spirit of his early work - pure, stripped-back techno at its finest. Tightly programmed and deep, it features burrowing bass and impish synths dancing up top to occupy the mind while the body moves.
Next comes a remix from one of the most innovative producers of our time, Rene Pawlowitz, under his Head High alias, a project reserved for his more house leaning sounds. His 'Power Tool Mix' brings his signature loopy style with thudding kicks, raw hi-hats and twitchy synths - already shaping up to be a summer hit. Pawlowitz then steps out under his renowned techno alias Shed. His 'Forceful Pressure Mix' is a blistering and unrelenting weapon, with rusty textures and powerful bass locking you in its glitches, unresolved loops and booming low end.
Named after the tendency to impose familiar likenesses, such as faces, on random - usually inanimate - objects, Pareidolia is Jake Muir's way of interpreting the consonances between so-called “ambient” music and extreme heavy metal. Extracting the headiest, most atmospheric sections from hundreds of death metal and black metal tracks, Muir plays the role of both DJ and electroacoustic composer, concocting a lysergic elixir of fractal distortions and prolonged, decelerated riffs that slowly evaporates into iridescent vapor. If there's any trace of the original sources left, Muir makes sure that residue is subtly bewildering, like clouds in the sky that form imposing, larger than life images, or trampled bracken that falls into the shape of “trve kvlt” insignia.
The idea for the album materialized when Muir was working on 2022's Talisman, his collaborative album with multi-instrumentalist Evan Caminiti. Processing guitar for the first time, Muir began to unpack his long relationship with rock music and its Escher-like maze of sub-genres, from the tech metal he obsessed over as a teenager to Loop and Main's drone-y, textured variants. Scraping the internet for unconventional contemporary metal albums, he stumbled across music that seemed to hover between different realms, merging its frenetic, noisy sections with psychedelic interludes that harmonize with classic industrial and avant-garde music, material like :zoviet*france:, Nocturnal Emissions and Z'EV.
'Nicolò's Static forays deep into liminal space, where signal decays, rhythm stutters and sub-pressure thrums.
'The four-track EP is the inaugural transmission from Nicolò’s own Exploring Records. Melancholy bleeds through the frequencies, yet the pulse remains restless, insectoid, off- kilter.
'Here we pace darkened corridors of flickering projections and half-remembered futures, setting the direction for what’s next...'
The Temptations Get High on Psychedelic Soul: Cloud Nine Soars with Ambitious Arrangements and Production, Features Standout Vocal Performances and Instrumentation by the Funk Brothers
The Temptations’ Cloud Nine announced that Motown — and “The Sound of Young America” — would never be the same. Influenced by the emergence of cutting-edge rock and pop currents, as well as increasing sociopolitical turmoil, the album broke down barriers between rock, psychedelia, and soul while heralding the arrival of visionary arrangements and production techniques. Bookended by traditional R&B numbers, the 1969 record sent the Temptations in bold new directions and signaled the advent of psychedelic soul.
Sourced from the original master tapes, strictly limited to 3,000 numbered copies, pressed at Fidelity Record Pressing, and housed in a Stoughton gatefold jacket, Mobile Fidelity’s 180g 45PM 2LP set presents Cloud Nine in audiophile sound for the first time on a domestic pressing. This collectible reissue bestows Norman Whitfield’s extraordinary production with the grand-scale dynamics, natural tonality, expansive openness, and low-end weight it deserves. The timbre of each of the five members’ voices is readily identifiable — even within the group harmonies — bestowing a realism never experienced outside the recording studio.
Making its debut on 45RPM, the album further benefits from the wide groove space by playing with greater separation and more realistic presence than prior editions. Everything from the brassiness of the horns to the dry snap of the snare comes across with reference-grade clarity and positioning. And since Motown’s renowned Funk Brothers backing band plays on many of the cuts, you’ll want to savor every note. The imaging, soundstaging, and organic bloom-and-decay of the notes make that possible.
Amid Cloud Nine, the instrumentation and architecture stand out as much as any element. Never before had a Motown album contained such ambitious patterns and complex passages. Seemingly conscientious of the departure from their past methods, the Temptations and Whitfield bunched together the tracks that mark a deep dive into psychedelic territory and counterbalance them with seven sterling soul cuts that dovetail with Motown tradition drenched with heartfelt vocals, swelling strings, and finger-snapping beats.
On the original 33RPM release, traditional Motown soul — laden with heartfelt vocals, swelling strings, and finger-snapping beats — occupies Side Two. These songs reveal an ensemble still very much on top of delivering pristine pop-soul material graced with romantic sweetness, persuasive insistent, and soaring highs. Re-energized after the departure of lead singer David Ruffin, who was fired for a variety of reasons in June 1968, the Temptations seamlessly meld with his replacement, Dennis Edwards, on one melodic gem after another.
The collective tackles five songs co-written by the legendary Motown team of Barrett Strong and Whitfield. Not the least of which are the smooth, shuffling “Why Did She Have to Leave Me (Why Did She Have to Go)” and deceptively simple, horn-spiked “Gonna Keep on Tryin’ till I Win Your Love.” On these tracks, as well as on a lush rendition of the ballad “Love Is a Hurtin’ Thing” and pleading, tender send-up of the Gerry Goffin-Carole King classic “Hey Girl,” Edwards and Paul Williams take turns on the lead with the estimable Eddie Kendricks, Melvin Franklin, and Otis Williams providing backing support.
All five vocalists trade-off leads on the simmering title track, a groundbreaking composition shot through with wah-wah-pedal effects, liquid funk, deep bass lines, Cuban percussion, saturated reverb, and gang choruses. Whitfield mines each member’s natural vocal range with spectacular results, keeps time with cymbals, and channels both the heated temperatures and escapist desires of a society embroiled in war, conflict, and experimental drugs.
Amazingly, the Temptations top themselves on the similarly revealing “Run Away Child, Running Wild.” Nearly 10 minutes in length, the song explodes R&B parameters and harbors a cinematic scope. Urgent pianos, distorted guitars, stripped-down percussion, steamy Hammond organs, minimal bass motifs, five distinct voices narrating the tale of a boy who fled home and now finds himself amid the scary, unforgiving external world: They combine to give the urgent tune a walls-closing-in atmosphere where fear and desperation reign. Bolstered by an extended instrumental section that precedes a climactic return of the singers’ voices, “Run Away Child, Running Wild” equaled the success of the record’s title track, with both reaching No. 6 on the pop charts.
There was nothing in contemporary music like Chris Isaak’s Heart Shaped World when it hit shelves in June 1989. More than three decades later, the singer-songwriter’s third album still sounds unique — and claims a backstory nearly as fascinating as the retro-leaning material and standout performances that propelled it to sales of more than 2.5 million copies. Home to the Top 10 smash “Wicked Game,” the set remains a masterful mood piece that invites you to pour a late-night drink, sit in a dimmed room, and relish Isaak’s elegant albeit raw ruminations on love, relationships, and questionable decisions.
Sourced from the original master tapes, pressed at Fidelity Record Pressing, strictly limited to 3,000 numbered copies, and featuring the bonus track “Diddley Daddy,” Mobile Fidelity's UltraDisc One-Step 180g 45RPM 2LP box set of Heart Shaped World unearths the staggering inner details, saturated tones, and brilliant atmospherics of the crisp production. It brings you up close and personal with Isaak’s spectacular singing — impeccably controlled, tense, brooding, steamy, smoldering, haunted — situated amidst stripped-down backdrops that allow every note to fully bloom and decay.
While Isaak’s ever-steady baritone remains the anchor, the contributions of his trusty backing band, the aptly named Silvertone, come across with just as much cool, command, and realism. The indispensable playing of guitarist James Calvin Wilsey particularly emerges with superb clarity and dimensionality. The character of his 1965 Fender Stratocaster, shivering twang of his spring-coiled fills, and his signature use of reverb, delay, and vibrato seamlessly match Isaak's patient deliveries and the band’s unhurried rhythms. Experienced on UD1S with ultra-black backgrounds and a nearly invisible noise floor, Heart Shaped World is in every regard a demonstration disc.
The premium packaging of this UD1S pressing befits its elevated status. Housed in a deluxe slipcase, it features foil-stamped jackets and faithful-to-the-original graphics. Aurally and visually, this reissue is for discerning listeners who desire to immerse themselves in everything involved with the album, not the least of which is the cover art depicting a lost-in-thought Isaak staring ahead and sitting in what appears to be an efficiency apartment. The image epitomizes the record’s lonesome temperaments and pensive themes.
Of course, if not for director David Lynch hand-picking two cuts from Heart Shaped World for his 1990 film Wild at Heart, the record would’ve probably suffered the same fate as Isaak’s prior efforts and gone unnoticed by the mainstream. Despite receiving raves from outlets such as NME, Chicago Tribune, and Rolling Stone upon its original release, the album stalled in the lower quadrants of the Billboard charts and, after a few weeks, dropped off.
Cue the ear of Lee Chesnut. Then the music director for a large Atlanta radio station, Chesnut heard the instrumental version of “Wicked Game” on Lynch’s soundtrack and started airing the album rendition at all hours of the day. Aided by a sensual video featuring Isaak and supermodel Helena Christensen, the song found its way into the public consciousness by early ‘91 and helped make Isaak a most unlikely mainstream star in an era where his techniques had little to nothing in common with popular tastes.
Despite its vintage vibes and shared DNA with legends such as Roy Orbison, Chet Baker, and Glen Campbell, Heart Shaped World transcends nostalgia, rockabilly, and throwback tropes. For all the melodrama and sadness at hand, Isaak’s gorgeously transparent singing dives deep underneath emotional surfaces. He mines subtleties that indicate his feelings go beyond heartbreak and anguish, and occasionally suggest frustration, menace, and anger. You can hear it in his quivering falsetto, and the slow and methodical ways he allows delicate whispers to break into shadowy phrasing that crosses over to the darker sides of romance and desire.
That approach bolsters the title track, which suggests calm yet moves on ominous currents — its simmering pace and snare-drum snappiness foreshadowing Isaak raising the volume and urgency during the coda. The southwestern-tinged “Wrong to Love You” plays with similar concepts of hesitation, unease, and discord, Isaak careful never to fully erupt and give anything away. His poised deliveries offer a master class in the art of insinuation and hurt on “Nothing’s Changed,” sent up with a wordless backing chorus and crackling guitar lines straight out of a Memphis blues joint.
Heart Shaped World further boosts its merit via its abundant stylistic variations, from the upbeat country-and-western trot of “I’m Not Waiting” and Spanish acoustic shimmer of the jazz-based ballad “Blue Spanish Sky” to the swinging horn-accompanied grooves of “Don’t Make Me Love You” and desert smokiness of the understated “Kings of the Highway.” On the latter, Isaak comes across as resigned and absolute. His singing and pain worm their way into your soul, and echo akin to the way the music prepares to strike when you least expect.
“Trouble going 'round,” Isaak croons right as the album begins. “Trouble going down.” Damn straight.
If one thing is for sure, you can always count on FXHE to serve up the jams and surprise you in the process. Enter this new 12" from Bill Beaver aka William Beaver who has been serving up house jams under various guises since the late 80s. This one, 'Crusin Outer Drive', is, in the words of the label, "a back yard Boogie slash Hustle Summer Jam for those who live in the inner city and Beyond" and it comes with a 70s-style keyboard solo from Javonntte Garrett as well as signature off-grid drums, lo-fi charm and a raw analogue aesthetic. Vocals add the charm as the synths get passed through various filters, decay and change shape with a mind of their own and the chords never quit. Elsewhere, we get an instrumental version of the A-side and two takes on 'Down To The Sac', one a sultry, looped up affair from Jefferson, the other from Brett Fullerton, stripping it down to tribal drums and then building it right back up again via some super pimped synths. It's pure Detroit heat.
Some records point at the dancefloor; this one points at the sky. Decryption Of Reality is dubtommy's first solo record for NOREPRESS – the sublabel where he first surfaced on 2022's Pasanauri Way — and it lands as dub tech house wired to the stars: deep, driving, and lit from somewhere far off.
Across four tracks, wide synths stretch over a steady, danceable pulse and drag the groove off-world – less a night in a club than a signal caught from deep space. Three cuts keep the floor moving, bright and propulsive; the closer, "CDEFGAB" – named for the bare notes of the scale – sets down softly into something quieter and near-weightless, back to first principles.
A record for the deep end of the floor and the long drift home.
The Doobie Brothers faced a serious predicament as they prepared to record Takin’ It to the Streets. That the group navigated a potentially serious personnel problem that would’ve tanked lesser bands and scored its fourth straight Top 10 album — while again expanding its range — speaks to the collective’s chemistry, broad-mindedness, and songwriting abilities. Known as the effort on which vocalist-keyboardist Michael McDonald makes his debut, the 1976 set stands as an all-encompassing representation of the various styles the Doobie Brothers explored during their heyday.
Sourced from the original analog master tapes, mastered by engineer Krieg Wunderlich, pressed at Fidelity Record Pressing in California, and housed in a Stoughton gatefold jacket, Mobile Fidelity’s numbered-edition 180g 45RPM 2LP presents Takin’ It to the Streets in definitive sound. Given the luxurious room of a 45RPM version for the first time and benefiting from the wider grooves, the music unfolds amid large soundstages replete with ultra-quiet backgrounds, big dynamics, and accurate imaging. By then a key component of the Doobie Brothers' success, Ted Templeman’s production is brought to light with stellar clarity and definition.
As is the case on Mobile Fidelity's four other acclaimed Doobie Brothers 45RPM reissues, myriad facets that help make Takin’ It to the Streets timeless, natural, and organic — minimal overdubs, voices that realistically rise and fall, notes that properly carry and decay, warm tones, bass lines that pop with color, well-placed percussive accents, defined separation between the players — emerge with incredible presence, openness, and fullness. Nothing is overdone or out of place. No small feat given Templeman and company didn't know how everything would unfold when they first met up in Southern California.
Confronted with a change in plans by co-founder Tom Johnston, whose contributions to the band up to that point in its career identified him as an indispensable member, the Doobie Brothers were thrown for a loop when he curtailed pre-planning work and retreated home to deal with ongoing health problems. Thankfully, Jeff "Skunk" Baxter, the group's newest full-time recruit, had a possible solution in his former fellow Steely Dan colleague McDonald. The singer-keyboardist had already sat in with the Doobie Brothers on their recent tour. So, why not give it a shot?
McDonald's prodigious talents notwithstanding, he couldn't technically replace Johnston. For starters: McDonald's soulful timbre bore little resemblance to Johnston's grittier voice. And McDonald played keyboards, not guitar. No wonder Templeman initially expressed reservations. He also knew the Doobie Brothers needed additional material before they could consider wrapping the record. Yet the skepticism began to dissipate on the first day of the sessions. Still waiting for second drummer Keith Knudsen, the band gathered in the studio with former roadie Bobby LaKind on congas and Little Feat drummer Richie Hayward for a live run through "Wheels of Fortune." The instrumental parts of that take landed on the record. Johnston would even return to share the lead vocal duties with Patrick Simmons.
Those magical results, and the experience of hearing McDonald woodshed the title track at the piano, turned Templeman into a believer and cheerleader. Spurred by their veteran producer's encouragement and McDonald's ideas for songs, the Doobie Brothers embraced new directions just as they did after their debut LP and on subsequent efforts with orchestral and horn treatments. The latter return on Takin’ It to the Streets courtesy of the five-piece Memphis Horns. Yet outside of viola accompaniment on "Losin' End," string elements step aside in favor of McDonald's pianos, synthesizers, and clavinet. And, on five cuts, lead singing.
As the new face of the band, McDonald ended up crafting all or portions of four tunes. His fingerprints are all over two of the singles, including the jazzy, blue-eyed-soul delight “It Keeps You Runnin’” and irresistibly melodic title track, which cracked the Top 15 and became one of the Doobie Brothers’ signature numbers. He and Baxter’s penchant for smoothness, and a precursor to the band’s coming transition into rhythmically oriented yacht rock, informs the brassy sway of “Carry Me Away.”
Further enriched by Tiran Porter’s gorgeous, time-signature-shifting ballad “For Someone Special,” Simmons’ peppy, spring-loaded “8th Avenue Shuffle,” and Johnston’s “Turn It Loose” — the move-your-feet boogie serving as kind of apt farewell to the band’s prior rock ‘n’ roll sound — Takin’ It to the Streets spun uncertainty into gold. Altered yet unbowed, the Doobie Brothers once again offered countless listeners “the best kind of remedy” with feel-good music that holds up amid any era.
For thirty years, Alden Tyrell has been at the forefront of electronic music. This analogue alchemist has concocted heady grooves that transmute genres: acid, disco, electro, house, italo and techno; no style left unturned. Under his Tyrell Corporation moniker, he returns to the Bordello with a sound forged for dancefloors. Midnight Machines is a warm embrace that melts electro‑disco with star‑gazing synthlines. “Midnight Machines Pt. 1” balances robust melodies and incising snares with soulful undercurrents and joyous breaks. Past energies are re‑channelled. Arpeggiators rumble as beats throb. Beneath it all, there is a greater consideration of the interplay of elements.
This focus pulsates through speaker cones on the needle‑drop of “Love in Decay.” Elated key changes and bright shifts are tempered by bittersweet moments, early‑morning light piercing fresh mists of grey. Tempos rise on the flip with “Midnight Machines Pt. 2.” Sci‑fi‑scored disco lifts ever higher as scaling notes untether themselves from the floor and soar above vibrant rhythms. Coy and alluring, the bright “Romance Obscura” closes the record. Cowbells and bending wavelengths open into an expansive, intoxicating melody where keys search the horizon as arms fold around celestial bodies.
Alt Dub boss Federsen once again joins forces with cv313 and Echospace Detroit to deliver a second instalment in their ‘Altering Dimension’ series, once again merging hazy textural sonics with delicate dub leaning aesthetics.
Detroit’s dub techno lineage continues to evolve as cv313, Stephen Hitchell of Echospace, teams up with Federsen for Altering Dimensions Part Two, another collaborative EP set to land on Federsen’s Alt Dub imprint.
A defining figure in the genre, cv313 has long shaped its language through seminal works like Seconds to Forever and the Dimensional Space LP, fusing enveloping atmospheres with tactile rhythmic structures. Alongside him here,
Federsen whose music can also be found on Echospace Detroit as well as Grayscale, Synchrophone, Lempuyang and Avant Roots, has carved out a distinct voice rooted in precision and analogue-rich depth. Altering Dimensions Part Two again captures the intersection of these two perspectives, linking Detroit’s enduring sonic heritage with a refined, forward-facing approach to dub techno.
‘First Dimension’ opens the release, laying down heavy doses of sub bass, bubbling percussion and ever evolving, murky dub echoes amidst a crisp, stripped-down rhythm section.
‘Second Dimension’ follows and leans into vacillating atmospherics, a swaying bottom end groove and hypnotic, subtle evolution that’s synonymous with the cv313 sound.
‘Third Dimension’ kicks off the b-side next, further embracing this introspective and immersive style as textural elements shift and mutate atop intricately modulating percussive hits, bubbling synth tones and weighty low-end percussion.
‘Fourth Dimension’ then concludes the release, reducing things down to bare bones of hypntic dub, embracing a beatless construction the composition relies on spatial depth, nuanced delays and an underlying tension that decays
Five years after their radiant debut Ufo Bar, Italian cinematic funksters Banda Maje are back with Costa Sud to take us deeper into their land of ‘Salifornia’—a Southern province of sun-drenched coastlines and decaying buildings where dreams of exotic escapism sprout and bloom.
Once again, behind the eight tracks in the album—and behind the wheel of the fiery red Alfasud on the cover—is composer and keyboardist Peppe Maiellano. He has meticulously tailored each piece to his virtuoso partners in crime: a 'family' of exuberant musicians spread between Salerno and Naples, all bound by deep-rooted ties to the region and a shared belief in the grit of independent artistry.
The Costa Sud (South Coast) imagined by Banda Maje is a shimmering ribbon of sun-baked asphalt stretched between the sea and the ancient pine forests of the Gulf of Salerno. It is a land of enchanting but wounded places, where the grace of Ancient Greek civilization sits in a restless silence alongside the scars of rampant building and neglect. “But if truth is beauty and beauty is truth,” Maiellano explains, inverting Keats’s famous line, “with the right eyes, you can find beauty and poetry even under a layer of moral and material filth."
Conceived and recorded entirely in the South, the album nevertheless looks beyond the horizon. While Neapolitan funk and golden-age Italian soundtracks remain the double helix of the band's DNA, this album welcomes new influences from across the ocean, weaving Italy, Brazil, Africa, and contemporary sounds into its unique vision of the 'global South.'
Side A is an immersion into Salifornian territory and its myths: from the carefree instrumental disco-funk of the title track, which sublimates local contradictions into enveloping cinematic atmospheres, to the mellow groove of “Baia”—a fusion of Neapolitan funk, afrobeat, and disco that pays homage to Salerno’s famous beach, squeezed between millennia-old sea rocks and mountains of shipping containers. The band’s heartfelt sense of belonging shines in their fresh soul-disco version of “Mo…” (a 1981 cult classic by Neapolitan legend Peppino di Capri) featuring Maiellano’s own vocals, while the reimagining of Tonico 70's “Jet Lag” celebrates a fraternal partnership with the Salerno-based rapper/producer, charting a musical itinerary that unites Brazil, the States, and Salifornia through evocative grooves, sharp synths, and Gianfranco Campagnoli’s exquisite trumpet.
On Side B, the sound becomes even more eclectic with the samba-funk warmth of “Samba Maje”, where Mediterranean melodies and lush vocal harmonies marry jazz-funk arrangements and disco-inflected Brazilian rhythms. The next track, “Africana”, is dedicated to a legendary dolce vita nightclub on the Amalfi Coast (and its founder Luca Milano); here, a rhythmic mantra incorporating tribal African elements blends with synths that evoke RAI television themes of the late 70s. The journey concludes under the sign of the silver screen: the disco-funk elegance of “Black Glamour Girl” (from the early-80s road-trip comedy In viaggio con papà), a tribute to the compositional genius of Piero Piccioni, and “Lovebossa”—an easy-listening homage to the "Cine Bossa" atmospheres that characterized so many Italian soundtracks of the 60s and 70s, finally carrying the listener ‘ncopp’ ‘e nuvole (above the clouds—which is basically Salifornian for "somewhere over the rainbow").
The open skies of Ochre's new album, Oversail, replace the dense canopies of his last, Understory back in 2020. This time, UK-born, Netherlands-based talent Christopher Leary trades rhythmic intricacy for something more exposed and reflective on a record that unfolds in measured steps, with each passage revealing fragile melodies set against sparse, shifting frameworks. There's a tactile quality to the sound design, hardware elements clicking and sighing like ageing machinery still in motion. Tracks feel suspended and the focus is on slow revelation across the quietly affecting 'Casadastra', airy beauty of 'Meristem' and hopeful synth sequencing of 'Canthropa.'
“Música Para Caminar” is the new album by 80%Baul, and the record that confirms his definitive leap from revelation to legend. Following the critically acclaimed debut Ayer y Ahora, this release positions 80%Baul alongside the great names of Spanish post-punk, standing shoulder to shoulder with seminal acts such as Décima Víctima and Parálisis Permanente. Rooted in a dark, introspective sensibility, Música Para Caminar also connects seamlessly with the vitality of today’s Spanish underground, aligning with the current wave of forward-thinking artists, including labelmates like Yvgoslavia. But this album is not defined by sound alone. Once again, 80%Baul surprises with songs that function as poems—bleak, incisive reflections on a decaying, dystopian present. More than music, Música Para Caminar is a statement: music with intention, depth, and meaning—an artistic vision that transcends genre and cements 80%Baul as one of the essential voices of contemporary Spanish post-punk. Presented in ONE-OFF truly limited edition of 300 copies lacquered pressed on 180 gr. high quality solid BLACK vinyl tracks have been specially remastered and mastered for vinyl by Daniel Hallhuber at Young and Cold Studios (Germany).
The Spoiled is an Italian post-punk project led by Giovanni Santolla, blending electronic beats, distorted synths, and reverb-soaked guitars into a dark, romantic, and nostalgic sound.
In 2024, the project self-released the debut EP Time distributed by Manic Depression, followed in 2025 by the full-length Living Ghosts via Swiss Dark Nights—an album that firmly established The Spoiled within the contemporary post-punk scene. Following the album’s release, Giovanni collaborated with international acts including This Eternal Decay, Darkways, Corlyx, Chaos International, and Hinfort, while maintaining a dense touring schedule across Europe and sharing the stage with artists such as Traitrs, Hinfort, Darkways, and Ductape.
The new album When It Rains, set for release on Avant! Records on April 17, 2026, expands The Spoiled’s artistic vision with a focus on intense, romantic soundscapes that delve deeply into human intimacy and interpersonal relationships. Embracing a warmer and more personal sonic direction, the record blends elements of indie rock and electrogaze music that enrich and revitalize the dark, melancholic palette that has defined the project’s earlier works.
Still playing homage to the forefathers of the genre such as Clan of Xymox, The Sound and Pink Turns Blue, When It Rains opens the path of The Spoiled to new soundscapes, exploring broader emotional territories while preserving the atmospheric depth and introspective tone that have become its signature.
FFO: Twin Tribes, Clan of Xymox, She Past Away, Mareux, The Soft Moon, Pink Turns Blue.
"After being praised as one of the best releases of 2025 by multiple platforms, the highly praised debut album from Obeka lands on vinyl via YUKU.
The rhythmic dynamics and emotive attitudes of A World No More captures the density of soundsystem culture in Obeka's ancestral roots. YUKU presents the Bermudians debut album capturing a Neo-Colonial dystopia, protest and Afro-Futurism hyperextended through decaying sonic structures of a dark past and its grievances which very much exist today.
Growing into adulthood within the walls of British and European Colonial systems meant the disconnection and lostness in a new country hid me from the world at a young age. Unlike London's vast and culturally engaging migrant communities, the industrial milling town of Stockport introduced a coldness towards people from other countries I experienced in my first year after relocating from Bermuda. I couldn't understand why. Whether cold words thrown towards me or actions upon other people who look like me, it has shown to be a dooming societal virus with no cure. The most comfort was found through what was familiar - drums and rhythmic spirituality of my homeland. It was a safe-haven, a place to empty the anger and confusion. It's been 15 years since relocating and as my sound evolved, it seems classism, racism, oppression and civil control of ethnic peoples has become worse - even now more legalised and normalised. Ogun (a powerful Yoruba deity associated with anger, justice and war) acts as the opening sequence of the record and its symbolism. Using distorted bass frequencies and dissected Regga-Dub immersed in live-sampled ghostly voices of the lost ones. This sonic exercising is also applied in Drillaman - a stampede of industrial framework and metallic instruments wielded over moody Dancehall MC'ing, magnifying two parallel worlds in cocooned evolution. The resurrection of Transatlantic African cultures and identity have never been silenced, rather carried elsewhere through trade routes of enslavement, which was pivotal when composing and completing the album upon returning home to the Caribbean for the first time ever. After reconnecting with my heritage my blurred vision of what's wrong in the world became so clear. Guidance in empty plains seek truth throughout the pain - A statement of finding oneself expressed on the poetic closing track A World No More.
On Fawohodie (A West African Adinkra symbol that represents independence, freedom, and emancipation stamped on the album cover) the motive and atmosphere begins to change. Afro-Caribbean idealism which refers to the philosophical concept that emphasizes the interconnectedness of individuals and the importance of community, often contrasting with Western individualism, begins to take shape in a new universe. We can co-exist. The track framework uses machine-led software forming frequencies we have no control over, then manipulated through decomposing soundscapes, scattered hand-drums and human-made weapons of control - exposing the hidden disparity that's been carried over generations whilst balancing hopeful and musical foundations towards equality and peace. On Pressure and Kuduro! the writing direction attempts to wake people up. Not settling for a composed approach like in past projects, quite the opposite. A call for native sonic awareness, dismantled vocals of protests, eroded percussion using chains, gears and motorised harmonies sculpted in challenging abstract behaviors far outside my comfort zone. A direct abrasiveness and weight I want people to feel, whilst finding hope and solace through enchanting choirs and hypnotic basslines in complete synchrony.
"Purity in sound manifests when you least expect it. The smallest memory or feeling grows from a seed into a sonic language that you, and only you can interpret and release back into the world." "
Isella doesn’t flinch from the horror stitched into the fabric of the feminine experience. Citing writers like Plath Margaret Atwood, and Mona Awad as germinal influences on her lyricism, Isella plunges into the underbelly of expectations of good-girlhood, of valiant womanhood. In her songs she splays out the stakes of it all, plumbing the viscera, unearthing the blood, guts, dirt, and decay lurking beneath. By the time she hit fifteen, Isella’s taste had expanded and grown darker and more mature. Artists like Nine Inch Nails and Tom Waits became a conduit for the kind of raw intensity she’d always been drawn to, and gave her permission to push herself to new depths of expression. This is evidenced on her latest EP; That freedom that Reznor et al. endowed to the songwriter are evidenced on her latest EP; Something is a shell . Isella’s vocals swing from coolly detached to emotional detonation, often in the span of the same song. She brings listeners into a world colored by feminist hyper-realism, challenging listeners to re-define ideas of femininity, and safety; to see that things are not okay.
Buttechno digs into Berlin's club psyche once more on the second chapter of X-Berg Dubs, which twists his sound into something murkier and more inward. Squashed breaks and flighty dub techno blur with jungle-adjacent sidewinds, all wrapped in rough, lo-fi textures. These tracks don't rush the 'floor, they slowly subvert and seep into it. Overdriven delays, ghosted guitars, and smudged rhythms unfold on 'Dark Loop' with 'L Dub' setting a glitchy, Burial-esque vibe, while '2080 Dub' drifts deeper into echo and decay, but with retro garage chords and 'Stone Dub' is a pure stoner dub.
Incl. Remixes by Red Axes, Roman Flügel & Abe Duque
What does it mean to exist in sound?
It does not begin with a beat, but with a choice. With the moment when someone decides not merely to inhabit the space, but to shape it – and in doing so, makes themselves visible.
Roman Flügel stands as a constant in the background. Not as an authority, but as a collective consciousness. Since the 1990s, he has moved through club music like a seeker, never content with the first answer. House, techno, experimentation – these are not genres, but states of being. His remix thinks, hesitates, opens, strikes like a surging acid wave, warping reality and demanding true presence.
New York taught him that club music is never neutral. It is body, friction, attitude. Abe Duque’s remix carries a strangely enchanting relentlessness, a resistance to smoothness – as if the dancefloor were a place where freedom is not claimed, but fought for.
Red Axes do not enter this space; they conjure it. Their sound is raw, repetitive, circular, as if deliberately refusing linearity. House, dub, and acid elements become material for a movement that is more trance than structure. Their remix does not ask where it is going; it asks why one should ever stand still.
And then there is Tim Paris. Not at the center, but as a narrator. As someone who knows that the voice is an attitude. “That Boy” is not a pose, but a mirror, ironic, direct, vulnerable. Paris moves between new wave house and club, always aware that identity is never fixed, but formed in the moment.
This remix record is not a gathering of names. It is a situation, four perspectives on the same question:
What does it mean to exist in sound?
Yet sound alone does not tell the full story: like music, the visual is a space to be shaped, felt, and deciphered. The cover of Tim Paris feat. Foremost Poets – That Boy, created by Konstantin Fürchtegott Kipfmüller, a visual artist at the Hochschule für Gestaltung in Offenbach under Heiner Blum, embodies this principle. Drawing inspiration from the urban environment, Kipfmüller transforms traces of decay, weather, and time into abstract narratives that, like the music of Tim Paris, Roman Flügel, Abe Duque and Red Axes, unfold meaning layer by layer. The result is no mere adornment, but a mirror of the sonic landscape: every line, every surface an echo of the question of what it means to exist – fully, in the moment, in sound.
A Sudden Burst of Noise is a study in equivalence between rotational frequency, material structure and sonic form. The album is based on sonified pulsar data and field recordings captured at a concrete radiotelescope located in the Eifel region of West Germany.
Following the core concept of BRUTALISM, architecture and infrastructure are not treated as backdrop but as structural agents. The radiotelescope – its reinforced concrete body, rotational mechanics and scientific function – serves as compositional framework. Rotational movement becomes rhythm. Structural tension becomes texture.
Measured cosmic data becomes sound.
The source material consists of astronomical measurement data translated into sound, combined with field recordings from the site itself: interacting with exposed concrete, mechanical resonance and electromagnetic presence. Dornen and Lomi process these elements into compositions that oscillate between abstraction and physical density.
The result is not a documentary representation of the site but a sonic architecture derived from it. Each track reflects a structural component: axis, mirror, descent, radiation. The record unfolds as a sequence of material states – from reduction and
erosion to rotation and amplification.
With A Sudden Burst of Noise, BRUTALISM continues its transformation of material, texture and structure into sonic forms. The vinyl format captures our site-specific research process as a physical object.
