Cerca:depend

Driving anywhere in Texas can cost you half a day, easy. For example, it'll take you over four hours just to get from R&B singer Leon Bridges' hometown of Fort Worth down to Houston, where the psychedelic wanderers in Khruangbin hail from. The state is vast, crisscrossed with rugged expanses of road flanked by limestone cliffs and granite mountains, forests of pine and mesquite, miles of desert or acres of sprawling grassland, all depending on what part you're in. And it's all baking under the Texas Sun that lends its name to Bridges and Khruangbin's new collaborative EP. "Big sky country, that's what they call Texas," Khruangbin bassist Laura Lee says. "The horizon line goes all the way from one side to another without interruption. There's something really comforting about that." On Texas Sun, these two members of the state's musical vanguard meet up somewhere in the middle of that scene, in the mythical nexus of Texas' past, present, and future-a dreamy badlands where genres blur as seamlessly as the terrain. It calls equally to the cowboys boot-scooting at Billy Bob's in Fort Worth, the chopped-and-screwed hip-hop fans rattling slabs on the southside of Houston, the art-school kids dropping acid in Austin, the cross-cultural progeny who grew up on listening to both mariachi and post-hardcore out on the Mexican borders of El Paso. All of these things, overlapping in a multicolored melange, purple hues as vivid and unpredictable as one of the state's rightfully celebrated sunsets. A journey through homesick reminiscences, backseat romances, and late-night contemplations, the kind of record made for listening with the windows down and the road humming softly beneath you. Like the highways that inspired it, Texas Sun is guaranteed to get you where you're going-especially if you're in no particular hurry to get there.

Guests is the home recording project of Jessica Higgins and Matthew Walkerdine. Vaguely named as such to avoid any problems with the poster if they pull out of a gig (which has only happened once, about a year and half before any songs were actually written to be fair) but also to capture a sense of reverse hospitality. That is, arriving at your door with a bottle of good wine (can’t turn up empty handed) or a fist full of savoury or sweet snacks (time of day dependant); oversharing at the afters (and then passing out on your couch); reading to your toddler while you make their lunch or put everything back where it was meant to go (only to get torn apart again). So, something about what happens when private worlds meet each other, making or having been made a space for. But at times, it’s a different kind of intimacy, a temporal or material one, like the feeling of crisp fresh sheets, and abundant and soft, body-part appropriate towels in a hotel in a city you’ve been to before and love to go back to.

Their debut record, “I wish I was special”, was variously described as “a collage of concrète experiments and outerzone pop gestures, music that sounds as if it’s been written from the depths of a dream”; “music for people who love music but also hate it too”; “something like chasing ghosts or befriending a wild animal”; “pulling apart nervous sensations with haphazard ease and requisite humour”; and “a melody of refusal, of being all-in (…) finding the exact right WRONG sound to express the discontent”. Common Domestic Bird continues in this vein, layering synthesiser, keyboards and samples over rudimentary drum rhythms and field recordings, which are in turn sung or spoken with to create nine new songs.

Written and recorded between autumn 2024 and summer 2025 in Reading, Berkshire, the music has matured since its last outing, in a way, leaning less into collage and more toward structured composition and melodic depth, yet retains a healthy dose of indeterminacy and off-kilter rhythms for the forever-amateur. The songs on Common Domestic Bird hint at some “about”-ness through a series of discrete vignettes which sound a bit like architecture or end of year lists, gossip or over-thinking subjectivity, like disappearances and impressions, the support structure of the spine, letters and signs offs, things you could really do without and where they should go, hoping you’ll see something that isn’t there, pretences and performance. At times they feel kind of funny, others kind of sad or a bit angry and annoyed, a bit like you really.

Uncompromising Dutch Black Metal – DOODSWENS’ sophomore album out in April via Svart Records Doodswens is a Dutch Black Metal band formed in 2017 by I. Live she performs the drums and vocals, joined by R. & P. on bass and guitar. Doodswens translates to Deathwish, but the meaning and heavy load to the word in Dutch translates better to Driven by Death. The self-titled sophomore album by Doodswens is out on April 17th 2026.

After establishing themselves in the Dutch scene, Doodswens gained an international following doing tours with Marduk & Gorgoroth. Doodswens’ performances are ceremonial and ritualistic, which have been reported to be as uplifting as they are devastating, depending on the demons you bring them to offer. Whatever you carry with you will be exposed. They like to confront instead of bringing comfort. If you've been on the verge of ending your life, or think about it more often than not, then you're living with a death wish. A heavy feeling, like a gray cloud hovering around you, gasping for breath and blurring your vision. This is incomprehensible to anyone. Except for those caught in the middle of it. But this album isn't about giving up. It's about finding strength, about someone who regains new energy after facing death.

This album isn't about wishing for death, but the death of the wish. Band’s establisher I. talks about the new single "Driven by Death": “For me, it was on the way back from a spontaneous adventure, full of music, new connections, and inspiration. A path without a plan and a journey without a goal, with only a very strong feeling that this is where I'm meant to be. With a misty horizon of endless asphalt before me. A large tree at the edge of the road, in the corner of my eye, screaming that this could just be the end. But what I felt wasn't fear, it was happiness. With the thought that if I crash into that tree now, I won't care at all. Because up until this moment, I've done everything possible, experienced every adventure, and each time, gotten up again and faced life with that gray cloud around my head. I have a death wish, so if it happens now, it's okay, and I'm at peace with it. This was the moment I realized, I'm not afraid of life. I'm driven by death.”

Uncompromising Dutch Black Metal – DOODSWENS’ sophomore album out in April via Svart Records Doodswens is a Dutch Black Metal band formed in 2017 by I. Live she performs the drums and vocals, joined by R. & P. on bass and guitar. Doodswens translates to Deathwish, but the meaning and heavy load to the word in Dutch translates better to Driven by Death. The self-titled sophomore album by Doodswens is out on April 17th 2026.

After establishing themselves in the Dutch scene, Doodswens gained an international following doing tours with Marduk & Gorgoroth. Doodswens’ performances are ceremonial and ritualistic, which have been reported to be as uplifting as they are devastating, depending on the demons you bring them to offer. Whatever you carry with you will be exposed. They like to confront instead of bringing comfort. If you've been on the verge of ending your life, or think about it more often than not, then you're living with a death wish. A heavy feeling, like a gray cloud hovering around you, gasping for breath and blurring your vision. This is incomprehensible to anyone.

Except for those caught in the middle of it. But this album isn't about giving up. It's about finding strength, about someone who regains new energy after facing death. This album isn't about wishing for death, but the death of the wish. Band’s establisher I. talks about the new single "Driven by Death": “For me, it was on the way back from a spontaneous adventure, full of music, new connections, and inspiration. A path without a plan and a journey without a goal, with only a very strong feeling that this is where I'm meant to be. With a misty horizon of endless asphalt before me. A large tree at the edge of the road, in the corner of my eye, screaming that this could just be the end. But what I felt wasn't fear, it was happiness. With the thought that if I crash into that tree now, I won't care at all. Because up until this moment, I've done everything possible, experienced every adventure, and each time, gotten up again and faced life with that gray cloud around my head. I have a death wish, so if it happens now, it's okay, and I'm at peace with it. This was the moment I realized, I'm not afraid of life. I'm driven by death.”

Orange Vinyl with exclusive illustrated notes/lyric insert ltd to 300 w/w.“Zimmerman conjures up a kind of Arcadian folk surrealism that is utterly his own” MOJO Never released before collection featuring Ian A Anderson & Maggie Holland recorded 72-80 is among Tucker’s finest - Free-ranging, Playful, Intimate - his Songpoet imagination unbound and in full bloom now on colour Vinyl for first time with (exclusive to this version) illustrated lyric insert with notes from Tucker.Recorded between 1972-80 this is the first ever release for ‘I Wonder If I’ll Ever Come True’ a stunningly beautiful, homegrown collection by Songpoet Tucker Zimmerman and friends. The range and depth is astonishing. From the heady surreal journey of ‘It All Depends’ Upon the Pleasure Man’, to the uplifting Gene Clark-esque 'So It Goes’, to some of his most beautiful & touching love songs in ‘Let’s Start Over Again’ & ‘Song’. Only one song has seen the the light of day before now - ‘Taoist Tale’ from his 1984 album ‘Word Games’. This recording from a decade earlier loses no power in its folkier stripped down style driven by Tucker’s strong narrative.

While living in bucolic seclusion in Belgium with Marie-Claire, Tucker invited visiting musicians (Derroll Adams, Wizz Jones, Maggie Holland, Dave Evans, Ian Anderson) into his home studio to play and live tape whatever songs he had at hand. Maggie Holland and Ian A Anderson feature, while Tucker found a freeing simplicity in just guitar, ’70s organ, bass and piano. We are so grateful to Ian A Anderson, who carefully kept and curated these recordings from 50 years ago. “Every time I would leave, Tucker would hand me another tape full of songs”. Ian worked with Tucker and ourselves to present this wonderful album. The collection is among Tucker’s finest - free-ranging, playful, intimate - his Songpoet imagination unbound and in full bloom. The ethos, the playing, the freedom, feels like Ronnie Lane’s time in the Welsh Borders. Unhurried, liberated, down-home and cosmic. Extraordinary music made among friends.
"Startling collection of intimate, home-recorded songs from the cult singer-songwriter adored by David Bowie and Big Thief alike.

When I first interviewed Tucker Zimmerman back in 2015 neither of us had any idea that, a decade later, he would be venerated by a new coterie of young fans, touring with maximal folk-rockers Big Thief and recipient of a concerted reissue campaign by the wonderful Big Potato Records. Last year I eulogised the “Arcadian folk surrealism” of his 1974 LP *Over Here In Europe but, if anything, this informal collection of intimate home-studio recordings is even better. Recorded between 1973 and 76 whilst living in Belgium and hosting such visiting folk musicians as Derroll Adams, Wizz Jones, Maggie Holland, Dave Evans, and Ian A. Anderson this is the kind of assured, organic freewheeling folk music that has the mellow, introspective rough-edged feel of some lost private-press LP, the kind rightly revered by Endless Boogie’s Paul Majors as “real people” music. A true find.” Andrew Male MOJO 4/5
“Here's a charming oddity: an unreleased album dating from the mid-Seventies by an American-born songwriter beloved of David Bowie and, more recently, Adrianne Lenker of the folk-rock band Big Thief. Zimmerman's a bohemian type who eschewed the big time for a life of gigging around Europe. He, his wife, Marie-Claire, and a handful of friends recorded these songs in seclusion in the Belgian countryside, and what songs they are. Slide On could have come from the Byrds when they discovered country music, Let's Start Over Again captures the dreamlike experience of being in love with unsettling clarity. This is a real unearthed gem.” 4/5 The Times

Twenty Years Ago, Jan Jelinek's Debut Album Personal Rockwas Released By Source Records. Under The Pseudonym Gramm, It Brings Togethereight Tracks That Have Not Been Available On Vinyl Since Their Original Release.faitiche Is Very Glad To Announce The Re-release Of The Album: Personal Rockwill Appear As A Double Lp Featuring The Original Cover Artwork. What People Wrote About Personal Rock Two Decades Ago: "situated Somewhere Between Jelinek's Much Loved Loop-findingjazz Records, Farben, Move D's Conjoint Project And Atom Heart's Most Immersivework For Rather Interesting, It's A Late Night Album Full Of Subtle Productiontricks And Melodic House Structures That Belong To The Pre-millennial Idmheyday, But Which Transcend Its Overly-masculine Templates." (boomkat) "a Serene Little Masterpiece" (de:bug) "though Many Producers Have Pushed Forward Theclicks-and-cuts Style Of Experimental Ambience Developed By Germanexperimentalists Oval (among Others), Few Have Been Able To Matchtheir Knack For Making Abstract Cuts Into Pieces Of Undeniable Beauty. Janjelinek's First Lp As Gramm Is One Of The Precious Few, And It'sobvious From The Opener." (allmusic) "organized In Organic Structures And Minimal Movements, Thetracks Get Into Utopian States And Super-desirable Moods, Offering Superiorcontentedness And Dependable Taste Of The Kind Seldom Sustained For A Wholealbum. (...) Subway-escalator-soul." (spex)

2025 Repress

Exploring new approaches of its Mediterranean sound, "Zodyaco" project, founded by Pellegrino, returns with a 7” single and two versions delineating the shape of its Neapolitan melodic disco from the slopes of Vesuvius.
Intimate and intense or exuberant and sensual, depends from which prospective you look at the sea.

Le Futur c’est la drogue, which should here be translated as The Future Is the Drug, is not to be read as a promise, but as a statement of fact. The present is no longer an experience, but pure consumption. Life itself has taken the form of a dependency.

With this sixth album, Christophe Clébard goes straight to the point, driven by a free and repetitive form of writing, stripped of any syntactic rigidity. Words strike like balls against a wall, revealing darker zones of his mind where guilt, fear, and existential anxiety coexist.

The sound composition, equally minimal, sustains a dense and obsessive mental space, a vortex in which trance appears as the only escape. Driving drum machines, relentlessly hammered electronic loops, and a battered synthesizer, his music unfolds within a physical, strangely hypnotic synth-punk aesthetic that hits viscerally.

The Future Is the Drug is his sixth album.

Music never exists in a vacuum — every scene and sound evolves from the non-stop exchange of ideas between different groups and cultures. Traditions get passed down from one generation to the next, and then individual heads take influence from their own unique perspective. Sometimes, certain people strike upon fusions that spark massive new movements, but even those rarest innovations came from somewhere.

Jon E Cash knows this more than most — the legendary beats he started putting out at the turn of the millennium had their own disparate roots and influences which he had the motivation to put together into a sound he called sublow. There wasn't any other reference point for this music — when he took the first white labels of 'Drop Top Bimmer Kid' into Blackmarket Records in Soho, London, he had to describe it to a puzzled Nicky Blackmarket and J Da Flex as being, "between garage and hip-hop."

Playing catch-up in 2004, Rephlex Records nodded to sublow when trying to introduce a wider audience to the sounds which had been tearing up the London underground. "Grime. Sublow. Dubstep... It's Music. Different people call it different things depending on when they discovered it." But Jon E Cash's sound was rooted in more than the UK garage that had dominated the clubs through the late 90s, reaching way back to his pre-teen days when the first waves of hip-hop culture crossed the Atlantic and broke in the UK.

25 years on, it's a fine time to reflect on the impact of the music Cash made at the turn of the millennium. History looks back favourably on what he and the Black Ops crew were doing with sublow in the early 00s. The timing meant it ran in parallel with what was happening over East with Pay As U Go, Roll Deep et al, and of course there was crossover. Every DJ and every MC was on the hunt for the best beats they could find. But there's a whole different swagger to sublow — a different web of influences, a different intention and so a different outcome. It's still there in the beats Cash is making more than 20 years later — his 3dom Music label is carrying upfront productions with that sublow DNA coursing through their veins. Whatever the beat or the tempo, the drums are still hard as nails, and the bass is tuned for maximum rave damage.

Collecting Orders For 2025 Repress

Ruff n’ ready torque collides with the nocturnal as Argentinian donny JUAAN enters the fray.

A properly intoxicating melange of boisterous, straight-for-the-jugular biz and late-night seduction. Four distinct, durable traxxx tailor-made for the witching hour. Icily moody with a bit of menace and dread about it. It’s also very slick, optimised and fine-tuned for maximum dancefloor impact.

Critics often highlight his ‘90s-indebted approach, and while those influences remain ever-present, this one has more in common with dancefloor styles prevalent a decade prior. Shades of darkwave, Detroit In Effect and the nascent years of Chi-Town house depending on the track, but never do we run the risk of falling into pastiche.

Pure forward momentum with a decidedly mean streak coursing throughout. Plenty of sci-fi flourish, funked-out where it counts. Flush with dystopian romance and a decent dose of weirdo flex.

Quintessentially Kalahari.

DC10 remains one of the most authentic clubbing experiences on the White Isle. It has different golden eras depending on your age, but for minimal lovers, that was 15 years ago, when you would get the likes of Romanina outfit a:rpia:r doing a cult b4b with Ricardo Villalobos. That's the vibe these new edits are going for from the Sorry We Play Vinyl label. 'EDIT4' is all wonky rhythms and twisted synthetic sounds and rising sine waves with chopped vocal fragments. 'EDIT5' is dubby house scattered with congas and 'EDIT6' is a more light and soulful sound for the early morning session with funky guitar twangs and skeletal rhythms locking you in for the duration.

Slip My Soul Where A Sweet Sunday brings together four versions by Fundación Tony Manero in charge of three projects from the Catalan jazz scene: The Gramophone All Stars Big Band, The Changes and ·I·. At the hands of these interpreters, the songs by Manero (all taken from “Sweet Movimiento”, their second studio LP) wander through different spectrums of jazz. From the Jamaican-tinged ska of the Gramophone to the dragging, hip-hop groove of ·I· through the swing -more classical or more avant-garde depending on the subject- of The Changes, these four pieces prove that jazz and disco music are family. Or what is the same: that jazz has always been dance music. Slip My Soul Where A Sweet Sunday celebrates the legacy on the one hand, the Fundación Tony Manero, which is retiring from the stage after more than 25 years paving the way for new generations and new projects. Among others, those who now take the baton in this EP.

Yesterday it started to rain…

The smell of damp tarmac rising up through open windows, a smell which is uniquely evocative for us all depending on our individual histories: a suburban pavement, a school playground, a basketball court.
The rain cut through a band of low pressure that had been lying over the city for days, pinging rhythmically off metal, causing rolling tyres to hiss and spit.

The music that soundtracked this meteorological shift was the debut full length from Rain Text (Giuseppe Ielasi & Giovanni Civitenga), simply titled III. Scattered throughout the nameless eight tracks there are moments of low-end pressure relieved by the fizz and clatter of metallic rhythms; there is static, there is discord, there is release.

The individuals comprising Rain Text have a long history of manipulating sounds for evocative ends, Giuseppe Ielasi has been making music as one half of Bellows for many years, each album stretching and destroying their sound in beautiful increments. He has also released reliably inspirational music either solo or in collaboration for the likes of Editions Mego, Shelter Press and Faitiche. His sensitive ears are also in high demand as a mastering engineer. It is worth perusing the 800+ releases he has technical credits for on Discogs: from classics of the avant-garde to the freshest faces of the Swedish underground, the chances are some of your favourite albums are included.

Giovanni Civitenga helms the SKYAPNEA long-running NTS show. Joining him, you can enjoy the fruits of a lifetime of deep listening through shows that flit between the industrial and the devotional, a space that is fully explored on III.

The album was recorded quickly over three fertile days in Ielasi’s studio in Monza, but of course results like this can only be achieved at such a pace by spending a lifetime obsessing over the mechanics and possibilities of sound.

Those who are enamoured by the rain—who are returned by it to the surfaces, smells and sounds of a lost and idealised youth; who feel themselves restored—are known as ‘pluviophiles’. Their response to rain may well have a biological explanation: when rain hits tarmac negative ions are released into the air, which are thought to result in feelings of wellbeing and positivity. All the more reason, then, to return to the vivid ecosystem that Rain Text has so carefully cultivated for III."

Words by The Dengie Hundred – August 2024

2026 Repress

Flickering in ultraviolet, there is an elusive place where blue pill meets red, ups become downs, and day merges with night. Those liminal spaces where anything is possible is where you’ll find Nightbus and their hypnotic debut album Passenger. Doom, uncertainty, and opportunity lurk in the shadowy corners of their murky existence with stops at disassociation, co-dependency, and addiction before reaching its final destination - a glimmer of hope.

The in-between of Nightbus’ own Gotham lies where Manchester’s city pulse meets Stockport’s outer realm. An audio-visual entity formed among a musical family of friends, freaks, and foes in messy mills and after hours on dancefloors alike, their sound bleeds from tension where collective creative forces are bound together and collide with the fallout of being torn apart. Before even playing a show, their So Young released single ‘Mirrors’ – a knowing nod of respect to some well-known gloomy Northerners - may have made old school indie heads shimmy at shows in Salford’s The White Hotel but also signalled the duo’s knack for offering listeners a Bandersnatch approach to hitchhiking their own personal Nightbus in whatever direction they choose to take. “Everyone can have their moment with our songs; the music is our response to who we are as young people, living in the city full of this energy right now,” they say.

Whilst reverb hefty melodies and dread-filled loops embody isolation from writing at each of their home studio set-ups, magic happens in the ether across 90s trip-hop, indie sleaze and electronica; Jake’s production layers Olive’s pop sentimentality with drums and samples whilst tales of a cast of faceless characters place Olive as puppet master; her severed self’s perspective manipulating their stringed limbs at arm’s length to see how their stories play out when scenes reflecting her own lie close to the bone. “It’s a bit fucked; like having this out of body experience with a made-up movie running through my head,” she says. “As I write I can see they’re all from a similar world, but they allow me to explore different feelings without giving away part of myself.”

Recorded at The Nave in Leeds with producer-engineer Alex Greaves (Heavy Lungs, Working Men’s Club), surprise and danger lies in every crevice. Brooding whispers turn to chants on 6-minute opus ‘Host.’ Improvised when performed live, its immersive shift in tempo leads to hefty dub courtesy of Jake’s pedals. Even then, you won’t know shit’s hit the fan until its mid-point reveal when ominous bass blasts a thunderous soundtrack as its protagonist defiantly walks away after committing the perfect crime. “It makes you wait, and more songs should have sirens,” Olive grins.

Leaning deeper into alter-egos via the video game-psychological horror of a Silent Hill dystopia, the band’s Fight Club moment ‘Angles Mortz’ turns its literal translation of death angles on its head as it reflects upon kink and internalised shame reincarnated as pride. Elsewhere the ice cool ‘Landslide’ is a Requiem for a Dream about the addiction of being in a band; ‘The Void’ explores co-dependency and estranged relationships; and carefully selected samples revive house track ‘Just A Kid’ from the band’s early incarnation. Passenger’s every direction is to face challenges head on. “That is what’s so great about horror; you can see through predictable patterns so when the unexpected occurs it's more realistic and uncomfortable… I want to own the dark stuff!”

As for Passenger’s first single, the pulsating ‘Ascension’ is a spiralling deep dive into death, suicide, and legacy around who or what we leave behind. A noughties club banger by way of NYC beats - ergonomically designed for those who like to stay out a little too often and too late - it throbs like a house party’s partition wall as the literal levelling up undergoes a neon transformation; blue glitching to pink, diffusing the white construct of the Nightbus Matrix. “It really does feel like the end of something and was purposely written that way,” they say, “the ascension is like a firework going off!”

With wheels in motion, Nightbus has become a movement surpassing sonic realms. Between shows from Porto to Brighton taking in The Great Escape, Rotterdam’s Left Of The Dial and Paris’ Supersonic; DJing; remixing; guesting (BDRMM’s Microtonic album); and even enlisting talented like-minds to craft a 3-part queer coming-of-age music video series which ties in with a new ‘hyperpop’ phase in the evolution of their popular Nightbus Soundsystem club night, heads are now being turned from sports brands to high-end fashion designers. “There are things we can’t reveal just yet,” tells Olive, “but we’re excited about the direction this beast we’ve created is heading.” As the album philosophises and asks one ultimate question; what does it truly mean to be ‘Passenger’? Nightbus may not claim to offer a definitive answer, but it might make you feel a bit better about those demons.

Released on January 1, 1999, this debut album debuted at No. 1 on the Oricon charts.
It was Ayumi Hamasaki's first million-selling album, and its down-to-earth lyrics earned her overwhelming support from young people of her generation.
This timeless masterpiece remains relevant to this day.

ensemble 0 (pronounced zero) is a band /contemporary music ensemble, whose line-up and instruments can change according to the repertoire performed. Directed by Stéphane Garin and Sylvain Chauveau, performing pieces by, mostly, contemporary composers including its own members, and working with numerous collaborators.

The year 0 of ensemble 0 was 2004, when four friends decided to assemble a vessel, essentially dedicated to acoustic music for the present time. A light and adaptable vessel, of varying geometry and geography (its members are based in different cities and countries, including France, Catalonia and Belgium.)

Zero, in cartography, is the reference level from which altitudes are erected. In other words, where the field of possibilities stands. Depending on the chosen direction, the disentangled or deciphered compositions, the musicians and instruments brought in, ensemble 0 performs upon a unique range of reliefs. First, its own compositions are specifically performed by the pulsating heart of the collective, i.e. a trio made of Sylvain Chauveau (acoustic guitar, glockenspiel), Stéphane Garin (metallic percussions) and Joël Mérah (acoustic guitar). Then, with a contemporary repertoire the ensemble expands according to the needs of each work. ensemble 0 occasionally performs pieces by Moondog, Julius Eastman or Ligeti but is particularly keen on living composers such as Tristan Perich, Michael Pisaro or Rachel Grimes.

Here, ensemble 0 plays in according to the movie: L’Incroyable Femme Des Neiges (directed by Sébastien Betbeder with Blanche Gardin and Philippe Katerine) a soundtrack with their own strong and beautiful imprint.

Shortly after the breakup of Flower Travellin’ Band, guitarist Hideki Ishima released his first and only solo album in 1973—a hauntingly beautiful work that stands apart in the landscape of ’70s Japanese rock. Known for his later work as a sitar player, Ishima showcases a signature floating guitar sound throughout the album, blending psychedelic rock, acid folk, and introspective singer-songwriter elements into a deeply personal and atmospheric record.

Contributing to this richly textured sound are some of the most notable names from the era: fellow Flower Travellin’ Band member George Wada (drums), future Transam collaborators Chito Kawachi (drums) and Nobuhiko Shinohara (keyboards), and Katsuo Ohno (keyboards) of PYG.

Now reissued with a bold, powerful remaster by Makoto Kubota, this overlooked gem captures a vital moment in Japan’s underground rock evolution and demands a fresh listen from those exploring the outer edges of the genre.