Cerca:decay

Faitiche welcomes a new artist: Christina Kubisch belongs to the first generation of sound artists. Her practice ranges from performances, concerts, to works with video and visual art, but she is best known for her sound installations and electro-acoustic compositions.

TUNING brings together three pieces by Christina Kubisch from different periods of her oeuvre. What they have in common is the way they transform sound phenomena originally considered “non-music” into compositions.

Jan Jelinek: Gaming in Silence (2024) is the most recent work on this compilation. It’s a collage of electromagnetic waves, voice, and abstract sound textures. How did this combination come about?

Christina Kubisch: Gaming was commissioned as a fixed-media composition for the Sound Dome at ZKM Karlsruhe. Since Resonances: The Electromagnetic Bodies Project (2005), I’ve been making recordings in the old and new server rooms at the ZKM and in their permanent collection of historical computer games. Computer games like Asteroids (Atari, 1979) and Poly-Play (VEB Polytechnik, 1986) have specially generated analogue electromagnetic waves that interest me in particular on account of their density, rhythms and textures. I originally studied painting and to me the work of composition often feels like painting an abstract picture. I alter my source material as little as possible, layering and overlapping until a distinctive sound space emerges. In recent pieces, I sometimes combine magnetic waves with field recordings or live instruments. In Gaming it’s my recording of a Chinese song about silence.

JJ: Two persons walking through a street in Madrid (2004) is a recording from your Electrical Walks series. Here we should give a brief explanation of one of your best known works: participants in an Electrical Walk move through public spaces wearing prepared headphones that allow them to receive electromagnetic waves from their surroundings – for example from security gates, ATMs or neon signs. They discover a situation that normally is inaudible to the human ear and they can actively shape it by choreographing their movements. I really admire this piece, not least because there’s no clear dividing line between participants and artist. What exactly do we hear in Two persons walking through a street in Madrid (2004)?

CK: With this early work, I wanted to understand what is heard by people participating in an Electrical Walk in the same place but moving in different ways. The Spanish composer Miguel Alvarez-Fernàndez and I set off from opposite ends of a major shopping street in Madrid, met briefly in the middle, and then continued to the end. We both recorded our walks and I then layered them over one another. You might call it a work of electromagnetic conceptualism.

JJ: Diapason (2009 version) is an installation that plays a composition based on sounds from fifteen tuning forks. This setting is audible in the recording: there’s no dramatic arc, no beginning or end – instead, it recalls a piece of aleatoric music focussing on the decay phase. How did you come to make this work and could you tell us something about your compositional method?

CK: Diapason is part of a series of three pieces that deal with “non-instruments” or instruments that no longer exist: electrical mine bells used to send signals to the workers underground; a historical glass harmonica originally used for medicinal purposes; and tuning forks that were used by doctors to test people’s hearing. All of these methods are no longer in use. The sound of the tuning forks, audible only if held close to the ear, was recorded at the electronic studio at Berlin’s Technical University in such a way that even their decay remained audible. The frequencies range between 64 and 2048 Hertz and they can be adjusted at micro-intervals using small movable weights. The sequence and the duration of the pauses are dictated by chance and were not defined in advance. The 2009 version was created for an installation in the historic Holy Cross Church (Korskirken) in Bergen. Visitors could enter and leave the space at any time, deciding for themselves where and for how long they wished to listen to the sounds played back over an array of small loudspeakers placed on the floor of the apse.

Credits:

Gaming in Silence: commission of the ZKM/Hertzlab, Karlsruhe 2023
elektronic sound processing: Tom Thiel
sound engineering and mixing: Eckehard Güther

Diapason: produced at Elektronisches Studio of TU Berlin
rearrangement: Eckehard Güther

Christina Kubisch, published by Edition Christina Kubisch / Random Musick Publishing

image front: Transitionen 2021 by C. Kubisch, sonagrams of electronic waves (courtesy: Galerie Mazzoli Berlin)
image back: Diapason Tuning Fork, property of Folkmar Hein, Photo: Archiv Christina Kubisch

design by Tim Tetzner
mastered by Giuseppe Ielasi
Thanks to Miguel Álvarez-Fernández, Folkmar Hein, Dominik Kautz and Mario Mazzoli

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.

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.

KITCHEN. LABEL is proud to present AGATE, the latest album by Japanese artist MEITEI, marking a deepening of the world he first shaped through his Kofū trilogy released between 2020 - 2023.

Named after the mineral agate, a stone formed through slow accumulation, pressure, and time, the album reflects MEITEI’s patient approach to sound. AGATE brings together extended and newly rearranged works from across the Kofū cycle alongside new compositions and passages, refining material developed through years of performance and sustained practice.

The album presents seven tracks:

HAŌ (Previously unreleased track)
SHIN-OIRAN (Remodeled from Oiran I, Kofū 2020)
SHIN-SADAYAKKO (Remodeled from Sadayakko, Kofū 2020)
SHIN-WAROSOKU (Remodeled from Wa-rōsoku, Kofū III 2023)
KYŪGEKI (Remodeled from Shinobi and Akira Kurosawa, Kofū II 2021)
SHIN-OIRAN II (Remodeled from Oiran II, Kofū 2020)
SHIN-EDOGAWARANPO (Remodeled from Edogawa Ranpo, Kofū III 2023)
Across these works, MEITEI expands the musical vocabulary first introduced in Kofū, a sound he once described as “lost Japanese mood.” While Kofū drew from fragments of folklore, theatre, ghost stories, and forgotten urban memory, it was never an act of historical reconstruction. Rather, it reflected a sensibility of the past observed from the present. With AGATE, this worldview is clarified as Shinpu, a process of discovery in which historical awareness becomes a foundation for contemporary creation rather than a constraint.

During five years of Kofū tours across Japan, Europe, and Asia, MEITEI performed this material in a wide range of spaces, from underground live houses and listening rooms to culturally significant sites. These environments influenced pacing, dynamics, and structure, shaping how the material evolved over time. AGATE is therefore not only a studio album, but the result of material refined through repeated performance.

If the Kofū albums were windows into forgotten eras, AGATE explores what lies beneath, sediment and strata formed through time and pressure. MEITEI’s approach to sound mirrors the nature of agate itself. Grains become texture. Texture becomes narrative. Voices drift through decaying layers of sound, while ancient instruments are used in non-traditional ways, forming distinctive percussive rhythms and melodies that appear and vanish without fixed resolution.

The album’s visual materials were developed under MEITEI’s direction through physical art-making processes. The cover artwork originates from a letterpress print created by Kamisoe, a Karakami atelier in Nishijin, Kyoto, using Kyo-karakami paper. The original artwork, produced through traditional woodblock techniques on handmade washi, was subsequently reproduced on print for the album edition. Kamisoe continues to reinterpret this historical Kyoto craft with a contemporary sensibility.

The title calligraphy was created by Bio Xie, whom MEITEI personally invited to participate in the project. During his performances abroad, MEITEI encountered in Taiwan a lingering atmosphere reminiscent of “Shitsunihon” — a sense of old Japanese memory that quietly endures beyond time. He was deeply drawn to Bio Xie’s distinctive use of Chinese characters, which resonated with this experience, and asked him to contribute to the visual expression of AGATE.

In parallel, MEITEI continues to reinterpret Japanese sensibility through his concept of “Shitsunihon,” presenting it as a contemporary musical language. The refined Kyoto motifs envisioned by Kamisoe and the distinctive calligraphic expression by Bio Xie intersect with MEITEI’s singular artistic direction, weaving together a newly articulated worldview.

The accompanying visual imagery, including the liner photographs, was created by photographer Hiroshi Okamoto, who was also responsible for the visual direction of MEITEI’s previous work, “Sen'nyū.” It draws from MEITEI’s lived experiences of winter seas, solitary cliffs, and breaking waves. These scenes symbolize the inner conflicts of the ten years he spent living in Hiroshima, and his confrontation with solitude and the sounds he creates.

AGATE will be released on 17 April 2025 via KITCHEN. LABEL on 180g vinyl, CD, and digital formats. The album is mastered by Kelly Hibbert, known for his work with Flying Lotus, Madlib, and J Dilla.

With AGATE, MEITEI returns to the material of Kofū with greater focus and discipline, continuing an ongoing process of working forward with inherited material.

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.

With Dispersion, Loom & Thread return to the volatile architecture of the expanded piano trio - and quietly fracture it from within.

Daniel Klein (drums), Tobias Fröhlich (double bass) and Tom Schneider (keys, sampler) remain the sole agents on stage and in the final recording. The triangle holds. And yet, the field has expanded. For their second studio album, the trio fed their improvisations with the timbral signatures of guest saxophone and vibraphone players - not just as additional voices to be featured, but also as material to be absorbed, atomized and redistributed. The result is not augmentation but thorough refraction.

Where the debut album explored the recursive labyrinth of Schneider's live sampling of his own piano, Dispersion introduces an external grain into the feedback system. Breath and metal. Reed turbulence and struck resonance. The trio sampled extended improvisations by saxophone and vibes players: Victor Fox, Asger Nissen, Volker Heuken, and L&T's own Daniel Klein; dissected their attacks, overtones and decay curves, and integrated these fragments into the trio's internal circuitry. What emerges is a play of presences without bodies - instrumental ghosts circulating through the dense weave of rhythm and keys.

At first, one might hear the familiar relational tension: Klein's polyrhythmic elasticity interlocking with Fröhlich's tensile double bass figurations, Schneider poised at the hinge between tonal field and percussive impulse. But soon, the surface splinters - again. A vibraphone shimmer appears, yet no mallets are visible. A reed multiphonic surges through the texture, bending space between bass and drums. These events are neither quotations nor overlays; they are redistributed energies, dispersed across the trio's grammar. A digital multidimensional interplay ensues.

If the first album unfolded as a two-tiered game - live phrase and sampled reflection - Dispersion adds a further axis. The sampled materials from other improvisers are stripped of their erstwhile two-way interaction and reconstituted as malleable particles. Signifier detached from origin, resonance detached from gesture. The trio navigates a constantly shifting topology in which acoustic memory and electronic manipulation are indistinguishable.

Crucially, the album never abandons the physical urgency of three musicians reacting in real time. The additional timbral layers do not thicken the texture into opacity; rather, they introduce stark points and arrows of diffraction. Density opens into prismatic clarity. Lines splinter and regroup. What seems like a quartet or quintet collapses back into three bodies negotiating an expanded field.

Dispersion is not about addition but about distribution - of agency, of timbre, of temporal perspective. It is an album in which the trio setting becomes a site of multiplicity without surrendering its immediacy. A dissolution not only of the divide between present experience and memory, but between inside and outside, self and other.

Three musicians. Countless vectors. A music that fractures in order to cohere.

CREDITS:
Tom Schneider: piano & sampler
Tobi Fröhlich: double bass
Daniel Klein: drums & percussion

sample sources:
Victor Fox: tenor saxophone
Asger Nissen: alto saxophone
Volker Heuken: vibes
Daniel Klein: vibes

Recorded by Martin Dressler at Bauer Studios, Ludwigsburg.
Mixed & mastered by Martin Ruch.
Artwork by Viet Hoa Le.

Backwoodz Studioz is excited to announce the release of Crayola Circles, a collaboration between rapper Fatboi Sharif and producer Child Actor. While both artists have long standing connections to Backwoodz, this album marks their first collaboration of any kind and breaks new artistic ground for all parties.


Sharif’s previous album, Decay, released on Backwoodz in 2023, was a haunting experimental rap masterpiece, an acid trip in a mental hospital. On Crayola Circles Sharif trades menacing psychedelia for a simmering stew of blacklight expressionism, his verses slipping effortlessly through the swells and tides of Child Actor’s masterful production. No matter how uneasy the waves grow, Sharif is at ease, a truth teller whispering anti-riddles in your ear. This album feels like a new chamber for Child Actor, as well. The producer has been on an impressive run since dropping CINE- a collaboration with rapper Cavalier- on Backwoodz in late 2024. Child Actor has shown up in the liner notes of everyone from Navy Blue (The Sword & The Soaring) to Earl Sweatshirt (Live, Laugh, Love) to ELUCID (Revelator) to Open Mike Eagle (Neighborhood Gods Unlimited), to Ghais Guevara (A Quest to Self-Mythologize), amongst others. On Crayola Circles Child Actor’s production is dynamic, shifting and sliding into new phases and movements in an instant. The beats are full and knotty, leaning into jazz and folk, while remaining tethered to the tender minimalism that is his signature. It’s a difficult balance for any producer, and here it is executed perfectly, placing us in a world of wood and brass, cowhide and undersea piano. On any other record, this soundscape would steal the show — and it very nearly does — but Sharif’s command never wavers, ever in control; a lucid dreamer in an induced coma.
There are no guests, no skits, and no interludes. There might not even be songs, instead Crayola Circles seems akin to a great river; singular, traversing forest and jungle, mountain and valley, running from mouth to endless sea.

Backwoodz Studioz is excited to announce the release of Crayola Circles, a collaboration between rapper Fatboi Sharif and producer Child Actor. While both artists have long standing connections to Backwoodz, this album marks their first collaboration of any kind and breaks new artistic ground for all parties.


Sharif’s previous album, Decay, released on Backwoodz in 2023, was a haunting experimental rap masterpiece, an acid trip in a mental hospital. On Crayola Circles Sharif trades menacing psychedelia for a simmering stew of blacklight expressionism, his verses slipping effortlessly through the swells and tides of Child Actor’s masterful production. No matter how uneasy the waves grow, Sharif is at ease, a truth teller whispering anti-riddles in your ear. This album feels like a new chamber for Child Actor, as well. The producer has been on an impressive run since dropping CINE- a collaboration with rapper Cavalier- on Backwoodz in late 2024. Child Actor has shown up in the liner notes of everyone from Navy Blue (The Sword & The Soaring) to Earl Sweatshirt (Live, Laugh, Love) to ELUCID (Revelator) to Open Mike Eagle (Neighborhood Gods Unlimited), to Ghais Guevara (A Quest to Self-Mythologize), amongst others. On Crayola Circles Child Actor’s production is dynamic, shifting and sliding into new phases and movements in an instant. The beats are full and knotty, leaning into jazz and folk, while remaining tethered to the tender minimalism that is his signature. It’s a difficult balance for any producer, and here it is executed perfectly, placing us in a world of wood and brass, cowhide and undersea piano. On any other record, this soundscape would steal the show — and it very nearly does — but Sharif’s command never wavers, ever in control; a lucid dreamer in an induced coma.
There are no guests, no skits, and no interludes. There might not even be songs, instead Crayola Circles seems akin to a great river; singular, traversing forest and jungle, mountain and valley, running from mouth to endless sea.

Cindytalk has remained a majestic proposition over the decades, one marked by a continued process of disintegration and regeneration. Change has been a constant for Cindytalk, as has been the presence of the Scottish musician Cinder, who has fronted the project since the early '80s. The first Cindytalk albums embraced a dark theatricality of post-punk dissonance and abject rock deconstruction that coupled industrial dirges with Cinder's beatific vocals, these same vocals that were once plied to the earliest This Mortal Coil and Cocteau Twins recordings,forever binding Cinder to the 4AD lore. But even on those albums, Camouflage Heart and In This World, Cinder was pushing the band to embrace the studio as a tool for further abstraction of sodden drones, cobwebbed dark elegance, and decayed textures.

By the early aughts, Cinder had reimagined Cindytalk through the granular processes of digitalia with a handful of equally celebrated works of glitch-born expressionism for Editions Mego. Cinder explains that "those elements were growing roots under our sound and had started to organically change the shape of what we were doing. The fucked-up rock music was in retreat and the electro-acoustic abstractions were becoming apparent. Fast forward to the early part of the 21st Century and my first laptop. It seemed natural where I needed to begin that part of my new sonic journey. To further explore those and new territories. Sunset and Forever is intrinsically connected to what came before."

Sunset and Forever is a labyrinthine opus, one that returns to the themes of the sacred and profane that have rippled through all of Cindytalk's recordings, albeit in various guises. The opening track "Embers of Last Leaves" is a haunted piece of undulated, cyclical tones that entwine into a sorrowful chorale with Cinder's own voice. Thumps of electronic drum kicks and bass drops dot the apocalyptic menace of "Tower of the Sun" but serve not as a rhythmic grid, but as painterly noises that further disrupt and disturb the machined dissonance. A cinematic radioluminescence blooms from the tempered electronics within "For Those Eyes, Shadows Of Flowers." The finale "I See Her in Everywhere" bookends the opening number with a seemingly human chorus build from electronic tones cast in cathedral reverence. Sounds throughout may appear adjacent to those of Fennesz, Holly Herndon, or even Lovesliescrushing from time to time, but Sunset and Forever remains purely Cindytalk.

Cover designed by Chris Bigg, known for his iconic design work for 4AD. Mastered by James Plotkin.

VERY LIMITED BLACK VINYL WITH DOUBLE-SIDED INSERT (NON-RETURNABLE)

California composer Phil Geraldi’s vinyl debut both refines and refracts his signature muse of interstitial Americana across 11
melted glass mosaics of processed guitar, decayed radio glow, and Harmonia synth horizons: Rural Deceased Undiscovered. He
describes his vision for the pieces as “multilinear,” rearranging classic radio songbook elements like hooks, choruses, and
emotional cues into unfamiliar topographies of “alien country.”

Shards of acoustic guitar and pedal steel flicker in long shadows of amplifier hum and airwave static, like the scrambled
broadcast of some heartland station along a desert highway. It’s music both rustic and placeless, warped by weather and
technology, shimmering like northern lights over the badlands.

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.

With this new chapter, Blackwater Label presents an EP exploring the frontier between ethereal, electronics and sonic horror. Two tracks move like ambiguous presences, evoking atmospheres suspended between dream and nightmare, body and shadow. "Hypnoptera" is a journey through dense textures, oblique frequencies and subtle pulsations that seep into the listener, keeping alive the tension typical of the label's most radical productions. A work that does not seek comfort, but disorientation: a sonic ritual digging into the dark matter of imagination.

The A-side opens with "Gomma", a sonic mass that deforms, viscous and elusive. Gomma moves through dry hits and elastic reverbs, a living organism mutating at each beat. The atmosphere oscillates between tribal and industrial, like a ritual dance seen through distorted lenses. A track that fascinates with its physicality and hypnotic nature, suspended between attraction and unease. "Dulcis in Fungus" descends into a humid and cavernous sonic landscape where sweetness and decay coexist. It layers ethereal drones and underground pulses, creating an environment that feels both organic and alien. The piece develops like the growth of a fungus-silent yet unstoppable, seductive and corrosive at the same time.

LIMITED QUANTITIES TO 100

Have you noticed how the flood of daily news numbs your senses, dulling the ability to feel anything good? As if the world is slowly turning into a place meant for someone else - strangers whose faces you’d rather not see, whose voices you’d rather not hear. Perhaps it’s only a passing distortion
on the path to a better future - a glitch in the grand narrative of human progress. When the world above burns with confusion, we descend deeper underground - to outlast the chaos. Let the blood cleanse the word’s body; let the beat be our sanctuary. Welcome to Bunker No. 999. But even in exile, we need supplies. From the cold circuitry of soulless digital boxes - forced through the jaws of filters, resonators, and endlessly decaying reverberations - emerges a collection of DJ tools built to endure what unfolds above. Sounds to make you last, to make you tremble, to send shivers through the black box we call the dance floor. The rise of 999 Goosebumps begins - a Barcelona-born label debuting with Alex Pletnev’s transcendent first release, featuring Trancesetters of Westphalia on the remix.

A central figure in the contemporary scene, Setaoc Mass delivers five tracks of intimidatingly dystopian techno for Fuse's next release. Synth-heavy and melodically focused, the UK native brews moody tones over his signature percussion to provide a touch of improvisation for balance. In Static Rush, genres and influences collide under the persistence of concrete club music.

A haunting synth sequence opens FUSE10 with 'The Sky Above', showcasing Setaoc Mass's intentions for the rest of the release. Playing with decay and sifting through shakers, the seasoned producer fills the spectrum with constant tension throughout the entirety of the A1. In 'Shaded', whipping white noise over sixteenth synth notes, the pressure rises and falls with whistling accents on the transitions. Keeping the dancer on their toes with a lively arrangement, Setaoc Mass keeps his hands on all elements to maximise the record's progression. Moving to the B side, Feeling blends harmony and robust tone. Claps thunder through the track's warehouse acoustics, complemented by a sharp lead cutting through a heavy low end. The structure remains elusive and quick like the previous two, and it boasts a full, grinding sound destined for peak-time sets.

The end of Feeling then dips down into a two-track journey of ethereal sound designs and soft melodies. Keeping the rhythm swinging, Flutter By settles the atmosphere with an IDM-inspired iced synth and pads. This change of emotion pushes depth into the record, providing a welcome surprise in Static Rush. Setaoc Mass then signs off with the final contribution to the EP, Overload. Pushing further than ever into melody with hints of Detroit electro and a complete absence of a kick, the producer teases a slithering arrangement that ends his record with a bold conclusion.

Delsin invites you to submerge into the prismatic electronica of Xenia Reaper. Across nine tracks of exquisitely rendered sonics, the shadowy producer engages in the time-honoured craft of introspective sound manipulation, folding gaseous pads into dissected breaks and running heavyweight machine pulses through achingly beautiful synthesis. The sound is sharply realised, modernist music that revels in the finegrain detail afforded by technology, but never at the expense of warmth and charm. It's nuanced electronica for deep listening, but it also hits on an instinctive, physical level.

The Klinik are Dirk Ivens(vocals) and Marc Verhaeghen (music). Also featured on Fear is Eric Van Wonterghem (sequence and percussion), Guy Drieghe cover design on Fear. Luxury package design and reconstruction by Pieter Willemen, All tracks remastered as " like you have never heard them before" by Pieter Dewagter early 2025.

'Transplant Rejection’ is the work of Estonian artist and IDA Radio co-founder Robert Nikolajev, this collection of seven ‘almost’ dark ambient tracks embody the melancholy of autumn whilst hinting at the forthcoming eternal winter. A man with many hats, Nikolajev operates on the fringes of the leftfield house underground for labels such as Incienso, Collect-Call and Sad Fun as well as being one half of the sporadic DIMA DISK act with Ragnar Rahouja. Eschewing the more rhythmic side of his productions for this Muscut tape, Nikolajev taps into the fictional soundtrack atmospheres the label is known for and brings his own brand of wistful, introspective world-building by way of machine harmony to the now Tallinn based imprint.

There’s a lo-fi, grainy quality running throughout the collection, a kind of sepia-toned nostalgia that envelops the listener and disorientates any perception of time or place. Buried vocal fragments sit in the mix on ‘Stifled’ alongside decaying synthesiser drones whilst ‘DDM’ channels an edgy post-rock dirge with its use of sagged bass guitar. Overall, an inspired look into the more ‘at home’ side of this increasingly prolific Estonian artist.

Mister Water Wet returns to Soda Gong with "Things Gone and Things Here Still," an album that radically expands the project’s purview while preserving the homespun warmth and oblique tactility that have long defined Iggy Romeu’s work. Where earlier records tilted toward the dusty swing of sample-based beatcraft or spectral minimalist jazz, here Romeu opens the frame to a more ensemble-minded approach, inviting a stellar cast of supporting musicians, including SG alumni Memotone and K. Freund, into the fold.

The result is an album that feels both broader and more intimate, with live instrumentation such as piano, strings, and reeds woven into MWW’s signature lattice of hand percussion, production sleights, and slippery time signatures. Acoustic and electronic textures bend toward each other like plants angling for the same light: bowed strings blur into vaporous pads, brushed drums scatter under riffing guitars, a horn phrase lingers in the same space as a cracked cassette loop.

A tension between decay and presence - the “things gone” and the “things here still” - runs throughout the record. At times, the music evokes a chamber session refracted through waterlogged tape; at others, it recalls the afterimage of a hip-hop instrumental slowed into an oneiric haze. In the world of MWW, memory functions less as nostalgia and more as a living fabric - mutable and resonant. "Things Gone and Things Here Still" finds Iggy Romeu at his most expansive, offering up a generous record of open spaces and porous boundaries.

Celebrated DJ, producer, and sonic explorer Auntie Flo (aka Brian d’Souza) — described by The Guardian as “one of global club culture’s most vital voices” — returns this autumn with ‘Birds of Paradise’: a rhythmically rich, emotionally resonant, and ecologically grounded new album, out 23 October via his A State of Flo imprint. The album will be launched with a special live show at London’s Jazz Caféon the same day.

‘Birds of Paradise’ draws on d’Souza’s global club experience while deepening his connection with the natural world. Built around classic Roland drum machines and iconic vintage synths, the record is a joyful, body-driven celebration of rhythm and movement, but one grounded in ecology and place. The album’s spiritual centre lies in Saligao, Goa, near d’Souza’s maternal homeland where his Auntie Florie (where the name is derived from) is buried. Where he found his ‘paradise’ nearby, staying in a converted fisherman’s hut and recorded dawn choruses from a riverside studio overlooking mangrove-lined waters. Environmental textures from Japan also make their way into the music, creating a sonic map rooted in lived experience.

“Birds of Paradise is about finding beauty and rhythm in a chaotic world. It’s about listening, to nature, to our bodies, to what’s real. It’s a reminder that dance music can be both joyful and grounded.” The album blends Afro-Latin polyrhythms with Western 4/4 patterns, fusing instinctive, dancefloor energy with field recordings that anchor the music in the earth. Described by d’Souza as “tropical with a few deeper edges, a balance of light and dark.”

The new record follows the acclaimed ‘In My Dreams, I’m A Bird and I’m Free’, which earned 4 stars and Global Album of the Month from The Guardian, featured in Disco Pogo’s Albums of the Year, and received support from Luke Una, Resident Advisor, Juno, Bandcamp, Mixmag, DJ Mag, Electronic Sound, The Skinny, Beatport, Ban Ban Ton Ton, and more. The album’s launch show at Omeara London sold out. Other recent projects include the ‘Outernational Dance’ EP on cult label Multi Culti, event series ‘Plants Can Dance (and Mushroom’s Sing)’ which explore plant and fungi bioelectricity as a means of live composition, and ‘Black Beacon’, a haunting cassette release and soundwalk series recorded on the abandoned military island of Orford Ness. There, d’Souza explored the eerie intersection of nature, decay, and deep time, gaining special access to restricted buildings to capture long-form soundscape compositions.

Alongside his production work, d’Souza has emerged as a leading voice at the intersection of sound and science. He curated music for Imperial College’s groundbreaking psychedelic therapy trials, developing six-phase playlists to guide participants through psilocybin-assisted sessions treating conditions such as fibromyalgia and gambling addiction. His five-hour ambient set at Watching Trees Festival, selected as Resident Advisor’s Mix of the Day, continued this exploration into the therapeutic potential of sound in altered states. He also spent six months collaborating with BBC producer Tom Raine on a documentary for BBC World Service, centred on a two-week journey through Kenya and Goa. There, he performed live, led plant music workshops, and joined a deep listening retreat rooted in field recording. “I realised my studio isn’t just four soundproofed walls filled with instruments — it’s the journey itself. It’s the people I meet, the natural world I listen to, and the connections I feel.”

This same commitment to deep listening fuels his live concept Plants Can Dance, a project that combines the biosonification of plants and fungi with modular synthesis. The next event, on 14 September at Hideout Hackney Wick, will feature performances by Stella Z and Lapalace, with d’Souza and resident Lamine playing live alongside responsive plants in collaboration with Repot Hackney Wick and the label Music To Watch Seeds Grow By. “I’ve spent years exploring how electronic music can connect us, not just to each other, but to the natural world. Whether it’s translating mushroom data into melody or capturing birdsong at dawn, it’s about finding resonance across bodies, ecosystems, and machines.”

Rooted in his Goan and Kenyan heritage and shaped by years of travel and collaboration, d’Souza’s creative mission is simple: to reconnect the electronic world with the natural one. Through A State of Flo, he continues to blur the boundaries between club culture, sound art, and ecological awareness.

A Walking Contradiction resurfaces with a new release by their friend & collaborator Katatonic Silentio, channeling a collection of tracks submerged in echoes and pressure-shaped pulses. AWC011 traces fluid architectures built from delay, decay, and deep resonance--each composition unfolding like sediment in motion. Sounds sway with tidal pull, suspended in chambers where space thickens and time refracts. Basslines emerge like sonar beneath shifting layers, while percussive elements flicker at the edges, softened by current and drag. Elastic and disorientated, these underwater constructions are tuned to the language of depth and dissolution.

Avenue 66 opens Series 33 with a Düsseldorf–Lyon connection.
Jonquera first encountered Tolouse Low Trax a decade ago in a small Lyon club. That night, his hypnotic slow-motion set was cut short, yet it left a lasting imprint. The Düsseldorf artist’s mechanical psychedelia, and the influence of the Salon collective have been a constant touchstone for
Jonquera, even inspiring playful “Düsselcore” edits in his Tera Octe days.
After several LPs, Jonquera returns to the EP format with Cause & Utility / Tales of Decay. Built from improvised drum, bass, and vocal recordings, the tracks are reworked through heavy looping and acoustic treatment, a method inspired by his recent live shows. Cause & Utility revolves around the
abstract idea of two dogs as concepts, enriched by the earthy drone of a hurdy-gurdy. Tales of Decay paints a surreal image of a house losing its rooms like a body shedding parts.
The MPC sorcerer Tolouse Low Trax, aka Detlef Weinrich, brings his Düsseldorf circuitry and autobahn funk with two tracks of pure rhythm apparition. Amp is a quintessential Tolouse Low Trax cut, built on concealed rhythmic structures, swampy bass lines, and fragments of radio and voice
samples. The piece extends his exploration of how art can mirror the flow of inner-city traffic; drifting without a clear climax. Solid Rock echoes this idea, first conceived as a variation on Amp where particles repeat themselves. The result is distinct yet conceptually linked, evoking the
density of a crowded neighboring city: beginning in apparent disarray before locking into an abstract, hypnotic funk.
Series 33 begins with the convergence of Jonquera’s looping experiments and Tolouse Low Trax’s mechanical psychedelia, a dialogue between Lyon and Düsseldorf.

Gwenan Spearing, known for her perceptive, groove-oriented DJ sets, and more recently as a live performer working with hardware improvisation, launches a new imprint, Phase Space, with Degrees of Freedom, a debut album diving deep into generative electronics, modular systems, and real-time response. Composed and recorded in 2019-2020, the album treats constraint as creative fuel, floating between ambient,
sonic sculpture, and improvisation, mapping Gwenan’s path from rural Wales to Berlin’s outer zones of experimental sound.
Sync opens with a theme on a slow triangle wave, expanding the space as it evolves. Some Pluck explores generative counterpoint using LFOs and Euclidean rhythms. Generator I unfolds in an oscillating time where keyboard and bass circuits cross-modulate. Sleep Pressure is a lullaby for grown-ups, capturing that eerie threshold before sleep, followed by Loper, where time flows fluid and unstable. The closer, Generator II, holds machine heartbeats in delicate equilibrium before unraveling into graceful decay, a soft farewell. (That’s the Universe waving.) Degrees of Freedom is algorithmic music with a pulse: visceral, hand-wired, and built for deep listening.

Texas drone pioneers Stars of the Lid take stock of a landmark career with this 30th anniversary edition of their debut LP Music For Nitrous Oxide on their own Artificial Pinearch Manufacturing imprint. Long before the brittle-yet-warm racket Adam Wiltzie and Brian McBride kick up became synonymous with the achingly beautiful decay of America they were two audio geeks in Austin with almost no connection to the city’s vibrant, but rock and roll focused music scene. Finding brotherhood in mangled tape collages and engulfing fuzz, Stars of the Lid was born out of their mutual abstraction from what surrounded them. While to its creators, Music For Nitrous Oxide may have simply been a (slight) refinement from the drones Wiltzie and McBride were unleashing on unsuspecting college radio listeners at UT Austin, the rest of the world was slowly catching up to the duo’s noise-addled magic.

UK electro wizard Plant43 marks his 20th year in the game in the only way he knows how: with another wonderful album, his 10th overall. It comes on his own now five year strong Plant43 Recordings and as he continues to lay it down with his regular performances at Tresor. Feeding The Machines is full of signature excellence, from the lithe rhythms of 'Information Decay' to the jittery drums and introspective chords of 'Anthropomorphic Algorithms' via the dark, hurried urgency of the paranoid 'Absolute Inertia'. This is another long player that is as adventurous as it is emotive and cinematic.

Lucy Duncombe and Feronia Wennborg compose a modern symphony for virtual choir on 'Joy, Oh I Missed You', muddling sound poetry with Nuno Canavarro and ‘Systemische'-style machine-damaged surrealism. Like a mashup of Lee Gamble's 'Models', Akira Rabelais' 'Spellewauerynsherde' and Robert Ashley's timeless 'Automatic Writing’ screwed to perfection.

Duncombe and Wennborg have been chewing over ‘Joy, Oh I Missed You’ for four long years, working their process until they were "queasily intimate" with their arsenal of artificial voice tools. Tracing the history of the technology, from voice synthesisers and chatbots to AI voice analysis tools, the duo experiment relentlessly to develop a digital-age response to IRL extended vocal technique - think François Dufrêne, Yoko Ono or Phew. Less interested in replicating human sounds exactly, they instead test how various tools might cough up their own idiosyncratic tics as they stretch and stutter through attempts to mimic their "fleshware" counterparts.

Duncombe's got prior form here, most recently re-synthesising her voice on the brilliantly oily 'Sunset, She Exclaims' 45 for Modern Love, following a stunner for 12th Isle in 2021. Wennborg brings along experience from her tenure as one half of microsound duo soft tissue, whose 2022 LP 'hi leaves' (Students of Decay) was a haptic treasure. These approaches mesh remarkably well on their first collaborative full-length, with Duncombe's eerie bio-electronic incantations providing the ideal foil for Wennborg's carbonated hardware processes. It's not completely clear where the human voice ends and the zeroes and ones begin on 'Your Lips, Covering Your Teeth', as rolling cyborg syllables tumble over OS-startup womps and surprisingly svelte outcroppings of glassy, synthetic glitches. The music is surprisingly mannered, a sonic reflection of the cover, where a mouth is pixellated until only colour swatches remain. Duncombe and Wennborg trace the gradual erosion of their voices, leaning into the chaos as their various tools veer off into unique patterns of failure.

What sounds like a far-off, ghosted folk rendition (we're reminded of the Icelandic laments that Rabelais chewed up on 'Spellewauerynsherde') is offset by gnarled, bitcrushed machine faults and pneumatic lip smacks on the brilliant 'Residue', and on 'Brushed My Hair', the duo massage the voice until it sounds like a flute. Assembling stutters and barks and sighs into a celestial chorus alongside time-stretched moans, they create a levitational atmosphere on 'Smell It', freezing the energy from bizarre pitch steps to configure a zonked vocal ensemble.

'Joy, Oh I Missed You’ is an album that, like its source material, constantly morphs, testing the boundaries of its concept repeatedly without bubbling over into conceptual goo. In fact, it's remarkably euphonious, even at its most theoretically abrasive; Duncombe and Wennborg wring out uniquely angelic formations through a process of trial and error that packs a surprising, hefty emotional punch.

Iter, Calgolla's latest concept album, is an intense and layered sonic journey into the contradictions of the contemporary human condition.
With a musical language that combines alt-rock, post-rock, post-punk, spoken word and forays into performance art, the group constructs a complex work that defies any simple definition.
The record deals with themes such as migration, inner transformation, social alienation, ecological collapse and a sense of loss, layering lyrics and sounds into a coherent but fragmented narrative, like the time it tells.
The lyrics are taken and adapted from Viaticus, a graphic poem written by the singer together with visual artist Giacomo Della Maria, reshaped to adhere to tense, dense and visionary soundscapes.
The nine tracks of Iter thus form a journey that crosses different languages, styles and moods, like stages of an initiatory path that reflects the precariousness of modern life.
An album that refuses to offer answers, but invites immersion, surrender and transformation through listening. It is a meditative, multi-layered exploration of transformation, perception and resilience in the fragmented reality of modern life. With nine tracks and several languages, Iter (‘journey’ in Latin) traverses internal and geopolitical, sacred and profane landscapes, layering spoken words and sound collages into a deeply expressive experience. The guitars weave textures that are now ethereal and now abrasive, while the rhythm section builds a pulsating framework that supports and amplifies the evocative atmosphere of each piece. Iter does not merely recount the decay of our time, but attempts to bring it to life, immersing the listener in an emotional flow that blurs the boundaries between dream and nightmare, between meditation and chaos. An album that refuses to offer answers, but invites immersion, abandon and transformation through listening.

The writer Max Sebald often pondered over the nature of human memory, specifically, how our thoughts and desires - and their results - overlap and mutate over time. In A Place in the Country, he writes of the significance of what see as “similarities, overlaps and coincidences”. Are they the “delusions” of the self and senses, or manifestations of “an order underlying the chaos of human relationships, ... which lies beyond our comprehension”?

Song of the Night Mists, the new album by post-classical composer Stefan Wesołowski, often feels it draws on Sebald’s premise.

On a simpler plane, the one where the market dictates the neatly ordered information we consume, Song of the Night Mists can be described thus: recorded in the main by Stefan Wesołowski in Gdańsk, both in his studio and in Saint Nicholas' Basilica, the album incorporates acoustic instruments - piano, violin, double bass - and classic synthesizers such as the Roland Jupiter-8, the Soviet Polivoks. A Roland Space Echo RE-150 tape delay was also pressed into service as an instrument. We also hear the basillica’s organ and field recordings from the Tatra Mountains. Other musicians were Maja Miro, who played the flute parts on ‘Glacial Troughs’ and brother Piotr Wesołowski, who played the organ on ‘Wilhelm Tombeau’. Sound engineer was Marcin Nenko, who was also on hand to record the basilica organ parts. The album was mixed in New York by Al Carlson (Oneohtrix Point Never, Jessica Pratt, Zola Jesus, Lady Gaga, and Liturgy) and Rafael Anton Irisarri handled the mastering.

Ostensibly, Song of the Night Mists is the last in a trilogy, following on from albums Liebestod (2013) and Rite of the End (2017). All three deal with existential matters such as love, death, decay and “an ultimate end”; apocalyptic and Promethean in spirit, and betraying very human conceits. The Sebaldian nature of the new record starts to make itself felt when Wesołowski talks of how he used sampling. One element is unexpected, that of sampling himself: “I go back to dozens of my own unused sketches and recordings, treating them as raw material to cut, slow down, reverse, and transform in every possible way.” Memory as sound, to be reemployed by the listener through their own imaginings.

Another set of samples made by Wesołowski plays another role. These are field recordings, originally created for an audio illustration of the formation of the Tatra Mountains, and used in a film by sound designer Michał Fojcik. Wesołowski: “You can hear cracking ice, streams, footsteps in the snow and the wind, and a real avalanche, recorded from the inside.” The “Tatra connection” on the album is also found in samples referencing composer Karol Szymanowski. The album’s title alludes to a poem about the mountains by Polish poet, Kazimierz Przerwa-Tetmajer.

Wesołowski’s Tatra recordings are “about a world without humans - about the fact that the world existed, was beautiful, and had meaning long before people arrived, and for the vast majority of its history, it was a place without us.” Wesołowski, using one iteration of the natural world, plays out in sound Sebald’s idea of another order, underlying the chaos of human relationships lying beyond human comprehension.

These feelings play themselves out on the five album tracks. Sonorous and rich, they illustrate tectonic shifts we have no control over. Wesołowski hints that the overall sound is a “meditation on the metaphysics of the non-human set against the spirituality that human presence has brought into it.” In that light, the opening number, ‘Core’, with its slow build, and crackling and straining sound effects, create an effect of the earth groaning into life in a creation myth. Once the piano part raps out a simple melody and modulated tonguing trumpet samples add to the overall atmosphere, the listener can certainly find a cue in the “spiritual”, or “human” side of the story. Human versus nature: from the strains and harmonic muscle stretches of the second number, ‘Glacial Troughs’, through to the powerful and filmic ‘Stalagmite’ and heart-on-sleeve romance expressed in closer, ‘Wilhelm Tombeau’, we listeners are cast as Friedrich’s wanderer, looking out over a landscape that will appear only if we engage with it.

Formations of melody appear incrementally, almost appearing by chance - like hidden footings in the rock shelves to give us something to grasp onto. Rhythms are used sparsely: the prolonged percussive taps on ‘Glacial Troughs’ are an anomaly and maybe there to give pace to the album to come; essentially to keep the listener strapped in. Elsewhere, percussion is used as an aid to mood, the two thudding, timpani-style passages on ‘Peak’ there to offset the short, beautiful, kosmische passage that splits them.

Elements of the borderline religious spirit that drove German electronic music in the late 1960s and 1970s also find a place on Song of the Night Mists. The swells and recessions of the organ find their emotional climax on ‘Wilhelm Tombeau’, a track which summons up echoes of the “mountain magic” vistas created by Popol Vuh or Tangerine Dream, especially with the slightly atonal wobble of the Mellotron that counters it.

This is a dramatic album, but it does feel a strangely short, or curtailed listen on ending, evoking the feeling one gets when waking from a dream, and, for all its incipient grandeur, a track like ‘Stalagmite’, for instance, ends on a minor note. Wesołowski admits that Song of the Night Mists is born of the all too human process of temptation, doubt and recalibration - Sebaldian overlaps and coincidences forming something that must live another life, away from its creator. In Wesołowski’s words, the album is “a newborn foal must stand up and walk right after birth.” Now it is yours to ponder.

Plying refracted rhythms with an exacting poise, Aerae arrives on Samurai Music with a fully formed sound that plumbs the depths between techno immersion and D&B beat science.

An accomplished, palpable tension runs throughout Nefanda, Aerae's second solo release. Following up on the meditative pulse of her debut album on Annulled Music last year, the Paris-based artist digs deeper into ominous atmospheres filled with evocative reverb decays and taut, dynamic drum work - tools she wields to Redner tracks with specific meaning, coded by the Latin framing that runs through all aspects of her musical output. Contemplating the ancient language as an inescapable part of her European roots, on Nefanda Aerae ruminates on external trials and inner impulses, and conjures a jaw-clenching soundtrack to match.

'Mons' (translation: 'Mountain') speaks to challenges, strength and spiritual ascent, marked out by an urgent thrum of conga slaps and a 4/4 kick around the 170 BPM mark that finds power in minimalism even at the relatively high tempo.
The title track opts for a more broken framework, pivoting pointed percussion around a deft sub pulse while turning up the intensity with an exacting poise.

'Nefanda' translates as 'unspeakable,' or 'too horrific to name,' and the fraught, synthetic wraiths contorting through the track convey the dread the title implies.
'Fovea' (translation: 'pit') burrows deeper into spatial design with a looming low end rumble and subliminal sound sculpture, shaping out a dark, introspective chasm tipped towards disassociation. It's a powerful statement in any setting, but the all-consuming bass feels especially crafted for full, physical sound system immersion.

'Phrenesis' (translation: 'frenzy') rounds the EP out in fierce form, building up a high-pressure arrangement from ambient beginnings with ruthless control. There's a sense of duality in motion between half-time and double-time rhythmic elements, every incremental shift adding to the intensity of the track with the elegant, impactful touch that has fast become Aerae's calling card.

Finding her own language within the dialogue between techno, D&B and dark ambient, Aerae's music makes a vivid impression thanks to the ideas and intention that drive her in the studio. Nefanda confirms her status as a leading light in deep, psychedelic dance music, making something extremely personal that also reaches out beyond notions of the self like all the best transcendental music.

Aiko Takahashi is a Nova Gorica-based musician, a spirit that has released albums on various labels. Just like the line that separates the two cities where Aiko lives, Gorizia and Nova Gorica, divided between two countries yet united as one, Aiko’s music exists on a boundary. A line that separates silence from peculiar, almost imperceptible sounds. Too quiet to be Ambient, too Ambient to be Sound Art.

Two years ago, after a first complete release on IIKKI with "It Could Have Been A Beautiful", Aiko Takahashi comes back with a second complete album, this time, on LAAPS.

"This album is a delicate, meditative collection recorded between March and November 2024 in Aiko's former studio, a secluded spot near the River Isonzo, between Gorizia and Nova Gorica in Slovenia. The Grass Harp was made specifically for LAAPS, who asked Aiko to create a new complete piece of sounds. As always, it was largely recorded using dense layers of manipulated loops that weave in and out of the recordings, shaping them in a singular way through effects pedals, tape decks, and tape loops. The Grass Harp is a meditation on decay and silence, blending warm soundscapes with soft, playful melodies. That’s Aiko’s signature sound."

'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.

AN ATLAS OF LOSS

Do minerals dream of becoming semiconductors? Do they yearn to carry charges, amplify, switch, and convert energy into emotions comprehensible to humans? And what if, from the darkness of the underground, they had been listening to us sing in caves before the emergence of the first flute? Could they have guided us, through the course of history, to find them, extract them, and create new sounds through sinusoidal waves, to form valves and bend circuits?

If so, minerals would transition from what philosopher Eugene Thacker defines as the ‘planet’—that virginal and unreachable realm for humans that we study through geology, paleontology, and environmental sciences—to the ‘world,’ the space we inhabit, interpret, and synthesise in our daily lives. Sadly, we only remember the world when it erupts violently, through climate catastrophes or when a new virus emerges. Sometimes a tsunami collides with a nuclear plant, or viruses are cultivated as biological weapons in high-security laboratories, provoking a deep biological anxiety, hard to quell, which we all feel beneath our skin.

There exists a third realm, disconnected from both the world and the planet: the ‘earth’, an immense, dense rock floating in space alongside other planets, situated in the cosmological dimension. Relating to the earth is so complex that we only do so through theoretical speculations of a scientific nature or through science fiction, interweaving until one becomes the prophecy of the other, in an infinite, pendular dance. Beyond the darkness of space and Lovecraft’s cosmic horror, the fantasy of human extinction is the most recurrent: to reach a collapse so devastating that we do not survive it, even though the earth does, without us.

In a world where we quantify everything through body sensors, financial algorithms, nanometre-scale robots, and surveillance drones—a world in which everything that can be domesticated and controlled can also be commodified—a superior artificial intelligence would survive the collapse of the species (some speculate it might even cause it) and learn from our mistakes, thanks to our obsessive gathering of data.

Long after our voices fade, minerals will persist in the darkness of screens, in the silicon of chips, and in their pure form, still unexploited underground. Over the millennia, this intelligence might piece together fragments of our reasoning, as if an alien civilization finally connected with one of our spacecrafts loaded with messages cast into the void. It would sort through endless streams of data, unable to grasp the depths of emotion behind what it quantified, recreating simulations of our past, stripped of the nuance that once defined us and conducting experiments in sandboxes.

Some remnants of our existence—faint echoes of forgotten beauty—would be pieced together in an atlas of loss, buried beneath layers of numbers, decayed bots, and corroded hard drives. What will follow? Perhaps bison will once again roam—trotting to the strange pulse of techno, their ancient forms framed by the ruins of our cities.

Buildings will crumble, slowly dissolving under the soft touch of ambient music, and a thousand flowers will bloom with that ancient music created through electrical signals and computation. 7 songs for a future both improbable and inevitable—a final message from a world lost to itself, from planet Earth to planet Earth.

Alfons Pich, 2025

Unspecified Enemies, the project led by Louis Digital (Numbers, Counterattack, Arcola) present their debut album Romance in the Age of Adaptive Feedback.

Written and produced by Louis Digital, the album incorporates fragments of music data generated by long-time collaborator CiM (Ann Aimee, Delsin). Describing the title track, Louis Digital states:

“It’s the microelectronic sound of a city playing strange light games with itself, evoking bitcrushed desires and floating images, an urban phantasy stored on the broken circuits of an Ensoniq ASR-10.”

The origins of Romance in the Age of Adaptive Feedback trace back to 2006, when Louis Digital launched Diamond Sea, a series of events at London’s ICA that introduced the Unspecified Enemies project and a label called City of Quartz. The vision was to merge the hi-tech electronic textures of contemporary R&B with the sampling and sequencing techniques of pioneers like Anthony Shakir and Soundhack. However, the music was lost in time, and City of Quartz never released a single record.

Yet, the story took an unexpected turn. At one of these events, Spencer from Numbers received a CD containing early recordings. Years later, Numbers encouraged Louis Digital to reconstruct the lost music for an album. The result is a work resurrected from the past and reimagined for the future—retrieved in fragments from a broken Iomega Jazz SCSI Drive.

Expanding on the album’s themes, Louis Digital reflects:

“By the late ’90s the cinematic image of Los Angeles and the sound of Detroit techno had crystallised a new style of living in time and space. In 1997 Mike Davis — the political activist, urbanist, writer and historian of Los Angeles — suggested that it all had “something to do with a microelectronic aesthetic of very transient and decaying states”. It was a romantic vision — one where the city’s glass surfaces reflected a musical desire for futurity not yet dominated by data-driven corporate life. These were strange days to live through. This album evokes the embers of this fibre-optic moment, when urban revolution in an age of digital reification still felt possible.”

The album features full sleeve artwork and a poster designed by Ben Drury. In support of the release, an NTS show titled Romance and Reification will explore the cinematic and electronic music influences behind the album.

The fifth album from H. Hawkline (Huw Evans), ‘Milk For
Flowers’, is released via Heavenly Recordings.
Following the 2017 album, ‘I Romanticize’, and 2015’s ‘In
The Pink of Condition’, the album was produced and
features musical contributions from long-time collaborator
and celebrated solo artist Cate Le Bon. Artwork is
designed by H. Hawkline.
Recorded at Rockfield Studios in Monmouthshire, the
album features a host of musical collaborators - Davey
Newington (Boy Azooga) on drums, Paul Jones (Group
Listening) on piano, Tim Presley (White Fence, DRINKS,
The Fall) on guitar, Stephen Black (Sweet Baboo) and
Euan Hinshelwood (Younghusband, Cate Le Bon) on sax,
Harry Bohay (Aldous Harding) on pedal steel and John
Parish (PJ Harvey, Aldous Harding) on infrequent bongo.
The record was then engineered by Joe Jones (Aldous
Harding, Parquet Courts) and mixed, after an unlikely and
fortuitous crossing of paths, by the Grammy-nominated
Patrik Berger (Charli XCX, Robyn, Lana Del Rey), and
mastered by Heba Kadry (Deerhunter, Cass McCombs,
Cate Le Bon).
‘Milk For Flowers’ is at once visceral and enlightened, its
soundscapes verdant yet delicately rendered, and with this
latest, most intimate work, H. Hawkline bares his blood,
bones and soul beautifully. And quietly, along with the
entrails and rubble held in ‘Milk For Flowers’’ reliquary,
there hides a small, green kernel of life; hope, perhaps,
that today’s decay might nourish tomorrow’s blooms.
Available on CD and LP with rigid ‘tip-on’ sleeve with antiscratch matt lamination and digital download code.

Crush of Souls is the musical endeavour of Charles Rowell (Crocodiles, Flowers of Evil, Issue). One foot in early Industrial and the other in 80’s Synth-Pop, Crush Of Souls hold the whip and demand that you submit your soul.

Returning once again to Catacomb Soul studios where he had recently finished recording “(A)Void Love”, Charles Rowell mapped out the next chapter for Crush of Souls, limitations were set in place while new faces appeared to lend a fresh coat of black magic to the album.

The album is a love letter to Paris; all of its beauty and decay. “Lézire” which is a slang mixture of the French words for Lizard and Desire provides a sinister title to an album full of hard hitting, romantic songs.

Harry Howard (These Immortal Souls) provides his signature snarl and profound lyrics to the haunting ballad “You Rose Up”. Long time sax player Stanislas de Miscault colors the dark corners of the record with his unhinged personality and one half of new look COS, Stevan Dinet bangs both the martial beats and the Fairlight sample pads.
An album cover full of chains and S&M can provide enough of an explanation as to the new direction of Crush of Souls. Cronenberg’s “Crash”, David Lynch’s “Lost Highway”, Psychic TV and Sisters Of Mercy are constantly mentioned.

‘Subtle Bodies’ is the new album by US-based sound artist and composer Francis Morning, released on Ltd. cassette via Lo Recordings, which contemplates the concept of the non-physical, energetic layers of a person that exist alongside the physical body. Being the next installment of Lo Recordings' ongoing SPACIOUSNESS series, the album features 15 tracks that embrace the theme through hints of electric piano melodies buried under layers of tape hiss, meandering sine wave bass notes, and expansive ambient textures.

The compositions on ‘Subtle Bodies’ are meditations on impermanence, imperfection, and the natural process of decay, approached without judgment. They arise from moments of introspection, often inspired by the contemplation of inner channels, energies, mindfulness, breath, and other Tibetan Buddhist practices. Deliberately recorded using minimal equipment, each piece explores and pushes against the thresholds in an attempt to strike a balance of texture and noise. About Francis Morning:

Francis Morning is a US-based sound artist, musician, and composer known for crafting gently textured sonic environments using a simplified palette of musical hardware, including analog tapes and cassettes, field recordings, synths, pedals, pianos, and acoustic and electric guitars. His work embraces imperfection, human quality and touch, and the transient nature of life. The music began to take shape as simple, personal daybreak rituals with no audience or expectations. Each piece was recorded live in single takes, with the original elements eventually discarded or recorded over, as a statement and exercise in impermanence and letting go.

'Cupar Grain Silo' is Sam Annand's first release on the Blackford Hill label. Its nine tracks blur the lines between ambient electronica and sonic history, as synthesised melodies and rhythms reverberate through the extreme acoustics of the disused Cupar Grain Silo in Scotland. Built in 1964 as a sugar store, the silo towers 60 metres above the surrounding Fife countryside. Its industrial life was short: in 1971 it was closed, and barring a short period as a grain store, remained empty for decades.

In 2014, Sam Annand was given access to the silo as part of the Resono project, set up to study a series of highly reverberant locations across Scotland. The ambitious industrial architecture of the Cupar Grain Silo has given the space a reverberation time of 36.5 seconds. This measurement describes the time a sound takes to decay or 'fade away' in a closed space. To put this in perspective, the Cupar Grain Silo reverb time is around three times longer than that in cathedrals like York Minster and St Paul's.

"The acoustics are immediately noticeable when climbing the ladder into the main chamber", Sam says. "The sound of your voice begins to circle around and above you, inviting you to shout, clap and bang objects to excite the space into revealing its intimidating architectural voice."

Sam began to experiment with musical compositions which responded to the unique acoustics of the silo space. He used impulse responses – a short, sharp sound like a gunshot – to record these acoustics, allowing him to experiment with the silo's reverb in his production. Sam's compositions were performed using a modular synth system, a Roland Juno-6 polyphonic synthesizer and a bowed ride cymbal.

"Chords can be constructed in time by hanging successive single notes in the air," Sam describes, "The flutter echoes from the immediate cylindrical walls can be used to create bursts of scattering spatial imagery and harmonic blooms, following short percussive moments."

Originally recorded on 21st May 2016, 'Cupar Grain Silo' is now released on 12" vinyl with an accompanying booklet of imagery and essays. The compositions are at once true to the unique architectural acoustics of the silo whilst also being playful and experimental with the creative possibilities it offered. Arpeggiated melodies ebb and fall across extended call-and-response shapes formed by the silo's reverb; modular drum patterns crackle like dying machinery; whilst bowed drones waver and wash over.

"We all love reverberation," reflects Prof. Peter Stollery, Professor of Composition and Electroacoustic Music at the University of Aberdeen, on the project. "As kids, we play in it – yelling in forests and caves, surreptitiously dropping objects in huge churches – mouths wide open at the lingering smears of sound which come back to us."

In 'Cupar Grain Silo', Sam Annand has harnessed the extraordinary acoustics of the disused silo to tap into this sense of joy and amazement that reverberation can bring.

The strange thing about the music of Anima is that it’s often considered as strange, while it’s actually very natural. It has a free spirit, analog to nature. For this release the natural spirit is strengthened by the participation of indigenous American flute player and composer R. Carlos Nakai who did a series of concerts in the US and Europe with Paul and Limpe Fuchs in the 1980’s. As with almost all Anima work, the natural feel manifests itself not only by the musical approach and sounds generated by metal, wood, stone and air, but also by the absence of electronic devices.

This LP is a reissue of a rare privately released cassette from 1988 and was recorded by the Bayerischer Rundfunk. May this slice of timeless free spirit be a trigger to more awareness concerning our decaying freedom.

Australian minimalist-jazz trio The Necks' 20th studio album, Bleed, explores a sublime language of stillness. With a single, 42-minute composition, The Necks masterfully express the unspeakable beauty of decay and space in yet another totally distinct entry in a vast and stunning body of work.

The Błoto quartet had made a comeback six months ago with their first singles in over two years dropping “Szlam” and “Ścieki”. These tracks were pressed on a 7-inch vinyl by Astigmatic Records, but this only whetted the appetites of the band’s mud-loving fans, as the singles sold out instantly. And so, the band's musical onslaught continues. Ahead of their upcoming LP “Grzybnia” set to release in autumn 2024, Błoto is putting out another bacteria-laden 7-inch to conclude this brief series of singles. This time, the release features a remix by none other than the modern funk maestro DāM-FunK, hailing from sunny Pasadena, California.

Wading through the sludge of sewage, one can encounter colonies of bacteria. They are well-known for their dark side – causing serious diseases. Nevertheless, they are with us all the time. They exist in humans and all other living organisms – fungi, plants, and animals. They can be found in soil and water. They are even present in radioactive areas, proving that they are truly hard to eliminate. Such is the music of Błoto. Like a post-apocalyptic bacterium, it’s capable of surviving in the harshest conditions.

Sinister, biting, and primitive – just like colonies of microorganisms. This is Błoto's latest single. Drawing heavily from classic acid house, it can truly infect the mind, inviting you to join a rave in Błoto on the eastern flank of Europe. Quartet’s “Bakteria” is a direct continuation of their first 7-inch release. However, this time, during their collective improvisation at Studio Pasterka, the band has entirely forsaken acoustic instruments in favor of a full array of synthesizers accompanied by drums.

Certainly, the dichotomous nature of these organisms presents a paradox. While capable of causing harm, without bacteria, life as we know it would cease to exist, and human civilization would not have reached its current state. Bacteria fulfill numerous essential roles. They serve as decomposers, crucial in maintaining biogeochemical cycles, and contribute to processes such as fermentation and decay. As symbiotic organisms living within other organisms, they are vital for functions like digestion. Their versatility extends to diverse applications, from biological wastewater treatment to the production of various food products.

Such are the properties of the beneficial probiotic titled “Bakteria Re-Freak” by DāM-FunK (renowned for his classic albums released on Stones Throw, like “Toeachizown” and “7 Days of Funk” with Snoop Dogg). It offers a 180-degree transformation of the dark atmosphere of the original version. The track evolves towards G-Funk, brimming with sunny synths and a drum machine. It portrays a vision of a biopharmaceutical bacterium lazily roaming the streets of warm yet perilous Los Angeles.

The 7-inch will be released on July 19, 2024, by Astigmatic Records. The vinyl single is limited to 700 copies.