Search:detach

Makhunik Records Presents: "Withdrawals" - A Bold New Vinyl Release by RAKANS Withdrawals, the highly anticipated follow-up to Emergence EP and Deep State (Midnight Stallion) EP, marks a bold new chapter in RAKANS's ever-evolving sonic journey.

Set for release on I Makhunik Records, Withdrawals explores the tension between desire and detachment, featuring five tracks that blur the lines between electronic, experimental, and club sounds. Available on vinyl, Withdrawals invites listeners to experience the raw and intimate emotions that inspired its creation. Following the success of Emergence EP (Gently Leftfield Techno from a Core Dresden Artist - Resident Advisor/Single Review by Andrew Ryce) and Deep State (Midnight Stallion) EP on Boudica, which gained recognition for their atmospheric intricacies and deep, immersive textures, Withdrawals delves deeper into personal and societal themes, paired with the artist's signature ethereal soundscapes and captivating beats. Each track carries a narrative, from late-night reflection to hedonistic encounters, with a pulsating intensity that mirrors the artist's own process of creative and emotional release. With Withdrawals, RAKANS continues to push boundaries, creating a profound listening experience that resonates both in its melancholy and its intensity.

Description of the Title: The title Withdrawals reflects a state of emotional and mental transition, where one is caught between the craving for connection and the unsettling effects of isolation. It symbolizes the artist's inner turmoil and process of reclaiming personal agency after experiences of burnout and separation. The tracks are an expression of that journey-tracking the highs and lows of life in a world that constantly demands more. Through these melodies, RAKANS has captured the intensity of longing and the aftermath of desire, inviting listeners to confront their own internal conflicts. The narrative is personal yet universally relatable, and the title speaks to the often painful but necessary process of letting go, detoxifying from past habits, and learning to be at peace with oneself. "With Withdrawals, He wanted to channel the emotions that often come from the struggle between desire and self-preservation, between the drive to connect and the need to retreat. he's journey, both as an artist and as an individual, has been filled with moments of intense reflection, self-discovery, and sometimes, disconnection.

These tracks are the culmination of that inner conflict, a raw exploration of what it means to both lose oneself and find a deeper, often painful, form of clarity. Like the music he's created before, the sound of Withdrawals speaks to the space between tension and release, the liminal space where truth is often revealed in its most vulnerable form. He's always believed that music is a mirror to the soul, and in this EP, He's tried to reflect that feeling of being both pulled in and out of something greater. It's a raw and intimate look at the way we navigate modern life, often feeling like we're running toward something that we can't quite reach, yet constantly pulled back into our own personal truths.

This EP is personal, but it's also for anyone who's ever felt caught between two worlds, the one they want and the one they need. I hope it resonates with listeners who are experiencing their own form of withdrawal, whether it's from people, places, or even from themselves.

Black Vinyl LP. The world has changed, we shouldn't try and pretend otherwise. While we were shut away in isolation our routines shifted, social patterns evolved, and our hopes and dreams were twisted into cobwebs we're still trying to wipe from our fingers. Ziúr tentatively approached this on her last album Antifate, an ambitious and complex hybrid pop fever dream that looked back to a Medieval escapist fantasy as the scent of revolution seemed to hum in the air. But when restrictions were eased, she found herself staring down a discombobulated society that had trapped itself in a spiral of microwaved nostalgia and detached, narcotic repetition. Eyeroll then is Ziúr's musical panacea, a tincture to wake us from our creative slumber and prompt external connection and reflection. It's a polyphonous hex that demands human interaction, and Ziúr's hand-picked alliance of collaborators - Elvin Brandhi, Abdullah Miniawy, Iceboy Violet, Juliana Huxtable, Ledef, and James Ginzburg - each provide distinct voices that together herald a bewildering sonic epoch. Ziúr's palette had to evolve to match the scope of the project, but it was pure necessity that informed the album's defining tone. Recording mostly at night, Ziúr was conscious of the noise she was making so developed a unique way to record organic percussion. Using a set of rototoms - low profile tunable drums - she scratched, scraped and gently tapped the skins to build up the undulating and unstable rhythmic backdrop for each track. It's the first sound we hear on the opener 'Eyeroll', rattling like lost marbles against Elvin Brandhi's primal croaks and screams. And when Brandhi's twisted articulations form words, Ziúr matches the energy with chaotic thuds and serrated blasts of saturated electronics. "I roll the shittiest cigarette," she squeals like she's about to start a mosh pit at Paris's GRM Studios. Without pause, Abdullah Miniawy takes over on 'Malikan', building on the promise of material with Simo Cell, Carl Gari and HVAD with corrosive trumpet blasts and charged, politically incendiary Arabic vocals. Inspired by pre-Islamic poetry and the Qu'ranic chanters he heard growing up in Saudi Arabia and Egypt, he spins labyrinthine stories that cross between the worlds, breaking down physical and spiritual borders simultaneously. Miniawy's scope is expanded even further on his second collaboration, 'If The City Burns I Will Not Run'. "If it rains and the city drowns," he utters over gaseous electronics, "I will not run away, but I will be anxious for the heart of one close to me." After a supple vocal turn from Manchester's Iceboy Violet on 'Move On' and a surreal interlude from poet- DJ-artist-theorist Juliana Huxtable on '99 Favor Taste', Brandhi returns with two more hyperactive collaborations: ,'Nontrivial Differential' and 'Cut Cut Quote'. On the former she slices into Ziúr's skeletal jazz eruptions, screaming and crooning interchangeably, fluxing between the rap battle and the cabaret. The latter is completely different meanwhile, with Brandhi settling into her role as front-woman and groaning dizzying improvised passages that sound like grunge crossed with psychedelic no-wave. Brandhi's spiky musical history has prepared her well for this collaboration; she's a prolific producer and has been using her voice spontaneously since debuting with father-daughter improv duo Yeah You in the mid 2020s. She's found an ideal foil in Ziúr, a producer who matches her restless energy and willingness to bend formality, and leaves an indelible mark on Eyeroll. But the album's most tender moments are from Ziúr herself, who winds the album down on 'Hasty Revisionism', growling over collapsible beats and cascading strings, and comes to an unexpected conclusion with country coda 'Lacrymaturity'. Its feverish amalgamation of country music and euphoric, experimental electronics might seem incongruous at first, but in context with the rest of the album is the only possible conclusion. With Eyeroll Ziúr is making a firm statement about togetherness, humanity, and the renewal of hope when all seems lost. By bringing together such a wide but philosophically harmonic team of collaborators, she's conducted a body of work that speaks to the creative fringe in no uncertain terms. Now's the time to throw away what you think you know, and build bridges you didn't think you need. Now's the time for action. She may have spent her entire career avoiding the solipsistic trappings of "queer art", but by assembling a communal statement that questions so many normative assumptions about music, politics, and beyond, Ziúr has chanced upon her queerest album yet. Cringe? Eyeroll.

REPRESS

New Delhi-based Peter Cat Recording Co. will release their debut album, ‘Bismillah’ on June 14, 2019 via French independent label Panache Records. Debut UK live shows are soon also to be announced by the band.


Peter Cat Recording Co. could almost have a question mark on the end of its name. Not least as founder & frontman Suryakant Sawhney refuses to explain where that name really comes from or what it means (perhaps a reference to the Tokyo jazz club owned by Haruki Murakami), but also since the very existence of the band itself raises a raft of questions. When was the last time we fell for an indie rock band for the right reasons? Not because the band in question nostalgically imitate a perceived ‘golden age’ but because they innately embody the fundamentals of such music: fantasy, sincerity and the freedom to make music without rules or career aspi- rations. And when was the last time this kind of band sounded like Sinatra, Barry White, the sweetest doo-wop, humid fanfares and a psychedelic wedding band, all at once? And all of this coming from India?
In truth, the story of Peter Cat Recording Co. was written within the triangle of San Francisco, Delhi and Paris.
In the first of these cities, Sawhney (a native of Delhi) pitched up to study film-making. More distracted by the city’s peaking live scene of the early noughties, this is where he started to make music and to sketch out an idea for the band.“
The people I lived with supported my idea of writing music, they introduced me to great mu-
sic. There used to be a great garage scene in San Francisco, like The Oh Sees also Ty Seagall, Mikal Conin, all those bands. This is a world I had never seen in my entire life. A big inspiration from San Francisco was that you could record yourself. You don’t need to be in a studio and spend a lot of money to make an album. You can do it”.


At the end of the 2000s, Suryakant returned home to New Delhi, and started his band for real, more or less the same band that plays today. “I wasn’t so concerned about will we be performing, will we be the greatest band, will we be trendy. I just wanted to make something that was consequential and important for us, I think. Something which would last, something people could listen to and be like « this is life changing ». It was for the sake of beauty”.


For the first few years and in India alone, this is exactly what Peter Cat Recording Co. did, in total indifference to the rest of the world. This was until young Parisian label Panache stumbled across the band online via Vice’s THUMP subsidiary, stupefied by the band’s cosmic video for seven-minutes-and-counting track, ‘Love De- mons’. And so in spring of 2018, ‘Portrait Of A Time: 2010-2016’ was released on Panache - making the first international release from Peter Cat Recording Co., bizarrely enough, an anthology of re-mastered, hidden gems from the band’s ramshackle back catalogue, previously recorded in Suryakant’s own living room. With Peter Cat’s off-kilter charm hitherto unheard of beyond the fringes of India, the release provided a gateway op-
Whilst the title track found its way onto Tracks Of The Year lists at the Guardian & NME, it was tricky for new PCRC enthusiasts to get a firm grip on the startling push/pull between the immediate, uncanny music this release gathered, and the cultural backdrop of New Delhi at which it was so startlingly at odds.


Opportunity for a wider fanbase to fall in love with their cloud-like, drunken songs for the first time.
If discovering your favourite new band via a ‘Best Of’ feels a curious premise, then ‘Bismillah’ does more than hint towards the promise of Peter Cat Recording Co’s future. Blending gypsy jazz, psychedelic cabaret, space disco, bossa supernova, Bollywood and uneasy listening with kaleidoscopic ease, in many senses, the band’s knack hasn’t altered. Always different, paradoxical, unpredictable yet somehow familiar. The new album opens to the strains of bird chatter, the whisper of a city’s soundscape and the first few notes from an instrument which seem to be calling us to the departure lounge, a fore-shadow of the flight ‘Bismillah’ launches its listener
on. Suryakant sings with the detached, rueful elegance of Sinatra marooned on a desert island, whilst his band create small space-time capsules which navigate their way through genres and eras – including the future – and between nostalgia and eccentricity.


Peter Cat recently trailed ‘Bismillah’ with the release of ‘Floated By’, an appositely titled musing on failure & missed opportunities, punctuated by the fulsome brass section which weaves through so much of the album.


The languid, blue quality to the track is offset by the attendant music video, created with footage shot, implau- sibly enough, at Suryakant’s own marriage ceremony (needless to say, the wedding band hired for the day was of course, Peter Cat Recording Co.) Sawhney dryly notes; “Hopefully it’s not a many-a-times-in-a-lifetime event. You can’t fake that set, those people actually having a good time, being really emotional and intense.” ‘Bismillah’’s colour-drenched album cover also captures Suryakant’s father-in-law making his wedding toast on that same day - a nod back towards the cover of ‘Portrait Of A Time’, itself a black & white image taken at the wedding ceremony of Suryakant’s own father.


A stumbling but gracious collection of songs rooted in a kind of drunken soul music, the melancholy nature of some of the songs on ‘Bismillah’ renders them almost liquid, before they develop into more dance-like shapes. Suryakant’s rangy voice swoops from the falsetto glide of ‘I’m This’ to the beat-up baritone blown along by the warm breeze of ‘Soulless Friends’. The elliptical structure of album opener ‘Where The Money Flows’ also al-
lows for the use of brief bursts of autotune effect on his vocal without feeling incongruous, whilst the desultory lyrics of ‘Heera’ (a Hindi word for diamond) - sharing something with the Morricone school of grand storytelling - have an emotional weight that would impress even coming from a native English speaker. Perhaps the most gleefully unpredictable moment on ‘Bismillah’ comes with the illusory, vocal loops on the intro to ‘Memory Box’, errupting into 8 exhilarating minutes worth of unbridled, string-backed disco joy. A cat might have nine lives, but on ‘Bismillah’ and beyond, Peter Cat Recording Co. are hinting towards an un- knowable multitude of dimensions. Throw them all together, and it equates less to a listening experience and more to an out-of-body experience.


Peter Cat Recording Co. are: Suryakant Sawhney (vocals/guitar/organ), Dhruv Bhola (bass), Kartik S Pillai (organ/guitar/electronics), Rohit Gupta (horns), Karan Singh (drums)

A Colourful Storm proudly presents a remastered first-time vinyl editions of Lone Capture Library's modern-day DIY environmental masterpiece, All Natures Most Mundane Materials. "Environmental"? While this certainly wasn't recorded for dinner party ambience nor was it commissioned by Harrods, it does document a haphazard wander through the English countryside, feeling the air and the earth, detaching oneself from confinement and attempting to make sense of it all. Its protagonist is Rory Salter, London's restless improvisor extraordinaire, who has contributed to dozens of solo and collaborative releases in an ecosystem branched from his Infant Tree private press. Under his alias Malvern Brume, he is responsible for some of the most enchanting sides of contemporary concrète that's graced our ears: dérives revealing beauty and curiosity within London's urban banality. And while we'd argue that Lone Capture Library applies this approach but seeks the peculiar within the pastoral, there also lies a certain hermetic recklessness, with its disruptive details and discarded sonic bric-a-brac.

"I'd walked from Swindon to Avebury and back, which is about a 21-mile round trip. I'd been a muppet and did the whole thing down the A4361, which is not a road suitable for walking on - there was a lot of jumping into the hedges to avoid lorries. Turned out, there was a really nice walk across the fields I could have done instead. But maybe that sums it up quite well. Instinctive and very impulsive. The day following, I was at home and recorded it in single takes, improvised and straight to the tape. There was a good deal of significance for me in walking to the stones, passing the Hackpen Horse, being in the landscape and dealing with some brain rot after being stuck in a house, anxious and depressed. There was a sense of freedom and detachment. It was all about the materials of the earth and the body and fucking the brain off for a bit - just wanting to move between places. I dunno, it's all very cliché."

Set in the pressure cooker of fresh adulthood, Jahnah Camille's defiant new EP My sunny oath! is a guitar-based grab at self-acceptance. Romping through alt-rock, lo-fi grit, and sardonic grunge with unflinching momentum, the new six-song collection channels Jahnah's era-agnostic songwriting influences, from The Sundays and Liz Phair to Minnie Riperton and Japanese Breakfast. Largely written before a breakout year including tours opening for Luna Li, Tops, and Blondshell, My sunny oath! is set in stormy self-development. Dreamily layered vocals, modern shoegaze sheen, and keyboard lines accompany Jahnah's ear-worming guitar parts and coyly detached tone, as she pushes through the muck of outgrown relationships, misogyny, and hometown anxiety with the help of producer Alex Farrar (Wednesday, Indigo De Souza, MJ Lenderman). The clear-eyed sonic expansion of My sunny oath! marks a decisively bold, exploratory new direction for Camille's sound with fearless hooks and swirling production abound. It's a messy, vulnerable, and inviting picture of early adulthood.

Set in the pressure cooker of fresh adulthood, Jahnah Camille's defiant new EP My sunny oath! is a guitar-based grab at self-acceptance. Romping through alt-rock, lo-fi grit, and sardonic grunge with unflinching momentum, the new six-song collection channels Jahnah's era-agnostic songwriting influences, from The Sundays and Liz Phair to Minnie Riperton and Japanese Breakfast. Largely written before a breakout year including tours opening for Luna Li, Tops, and Blondshell, My sunny oath! is set in stormy self-development. Dreamily layered vocals, modern shoegaze sheen, and keyboard lines accompany Jahnah's ear-worming guitar parts and coyly detached tone, as she pushes through the muck of outgrown relationships, misogyny, and hometown anxiety with the help of producer Alex Farrar (Wednesday, Indigo De Souza, MJ Lenderman). The clear-eyed sonic expansion of My sunny oath! marks a decisively bold, exploratory new direction for Camille's sound with fearless hooks and swirling production abound. It's a messy, vulnerable, and inviting picture of early adulthood.

Cult musician Paddy Hanna announces his forthcoming album Oylegate with the release of his new song ‘Oylegate Station’, out Wednesday, 29th January via Strange Brew Records.

In celebration of Oylegate, which arrives on Friday, 11th April, Hanna plays Whelans on Thursday, 17th April. Tickets are €21.95 + fees and can be purchased here.

After his fourth album, Imagine I’m Hoping, arrived to critical acclaim but not the mainstream success needed for him to continue on as a musician, Hanna found himself at a personal and artistic low point. However, thanks to support from the Arts Council and the encouragement of his family, ‘Oylegate Station’ sees Hanna returning as the intrepid captain of his own ship; he may not know the destination, but he’ll see us along the journey with his graceful pop sensibilities.

Speaking about the new track, Hanna’s cryptic explanation could be confused for a missive from a lonely cosmonaut: “Low rent fuel, caffeine of all shapes, the midpoint of hope and despair, engine still running at Oylegate Station.”
Elation and exhaustion. Love and terror. The weight of responsibility and the strange, disorienting beauty of watching life unfold before your eyes. OLYEGATE, the latest album from Paddy Hanna, is a journey through the euphoric highs and crushing lows of parenthood, delivered with his signature blend of melancholic wit and lush, off-kilter charm.

Determined to sidestep the usual sentimental trappings of writing about having a child, Hanna found an unlikely creative companion in grim Soviet-era cinema. As he wrote, films like Solaris flickered in the background—bleak, meditative landscapes that mirrored the depths of sleep deprivation and the existential wonder of bringing a new life into the world. This contrast of warmth and detachment, of intimate revelation and surreal detour, courses through the album’s DNA.

Despite its moments of cold introspection, OLYEGATE is sonically rich and enveloping—an effect captured in a single request to producer Daniel Fox: "sweet, sweet caramel." Hanna wanted the music to feel like satin lining the listener’s ears, wrapping them in warmth even when the themes tilt towards darkness.

True to form, OLYEGATE marks yet another creative leap for an artist who refuses to be boxed in. "One advantage of being an ‘artist’s artist’ is that you never have to worry about being creatively different between albums. There's real freedom in doing whatever you want and not being judged for it. And even if you are judged, who gives a shit?"

That spirit of fearless exploration—of finding joy in the unknown, the absurd, and the deeply personal—defines OLYEGATE. An odyssey of tenderness and turbulence, it’s the sound of an artist embracing life’s messiest, most beautiful contradictions.

Neon Orange & Black Vinyl. With Information (2019), Cleveland-raised, New York-based producer and DJ Galcher Lustwerk marked his debut LP on Ghostly International, having already carved out a lane of low-key hip-house music with his instant classic 100% GALCHER mixtape: deep, smooth, psychedelic, equally cut for the club, after-hours, night drives, and headphones. Lustwerk leveled up for Information, experimenting with more live drums and jazz saxophone to create a new dynamic, what he considered a hookier, more bittersweet, Midwest mindset. Lustwerk emerged in 2013 with the game-changing 100% GALCHER for the beloved mix series Blowing Up The Workshop, later named a mix of the decade by Resident Advisor. The signature sound - a smoky stream-of-consciousness baritone shadow-boxing with beats, informed by funk, rap, rhythm, and blues - felt like an epiphany distinctly linked to the expanse of Midwest driving and the strobe-lit detachment of club culture. Now over a decade into his musical vision, Lustwerk remains an elusive nightlife narrator, embodied by the hooks and a growing catalog that's proven influential and singular.

This is a recorded document performed by Mark Holub, Johanna Pärli and Sofía Salvo.

As a trio, they had not met until sound-checking for their gig at Berlin’s Cashmere Radio on September 1, 2023 — a fact that may be concealed by their immediate understanding as a musical entity but is obvious by their artistic freedom and curiosity towards each hoc encounters, flexible and steadfast in its performance, and that culminated in an experience that shook the floor of the radio station’s headquarters.

The day after, Sofía, Johanna and Mark gathered in Adam Asnan’s studio and deepened their quest for a communal language. They ignored any musical fetters or conventions, enjoyed the possibilities of a wider time frame without a live audience — and exceeded all hopes of what three personalities can achieve when they are given the space and time to experiment, detached from any restrictions.

Mark Holub is a drummer of outstanding versatility and responsiveness, full of ideas and quick on his feet. Through his playing as well as his experience as a band-leader and composer he is able to steer this coequal group towards thundering crescendo, but sits equally comfortable in the centre of complex and fine rhythm probing in response to impulses thrown in by his companions.

Johanna Pärli makes use of her double bass’s entire body, extracting an armada of multi- layered sounds with an immensely high sonic spectrum that is also reflected in the diversity of her musical projects. She is both patient and wildly adventurous in her performance, and in this trio her contribution wanders from considerate bow work to brisk fingerpicking, gnarly string strikes and pedal use to startling effects.

Sofía Salvo unleashes the full unbounded potential of her voice by taking advantage of her baritone saxophone’s broad range of possibilities. She is one of Berlin’s most singular musicians and her widely proven capabilities cover gentle additions to support and underline pulsive interplay just as masterfully as rapid licks and roaring bursts of noise, spurring the collective to unpredictable intensity.

If music of this particular kind often gives the impression of a constant search, this international trio certainly managed to find common ground and capture a special moment in time for listeners to (re-)discover. Contrary to what frequent misconception sometimes suggests, it’s also tremendous fun.

NERR — Filling Open Spaces was instantly composed and performed live in studio by Mark Holub on drums, Johanna Pärli on double bass and Sofía Salvo on baritone saxophone, recorded in Berlin on September 2, 2023 and mixed by Adam Asnan. Mastered and cut by Rashad Becker, vinyl pressed at Pallas. Artwork and design by Stefan Lingg, produced by Christoph Berg and Stefan Lingg.

"There is great power in secrecy. Detached from the world, brewed under a strict code of confidentiality, a new lifeform came into existence. Led by none other than Sonata Arctica frontman Tony Kakko, this new beast of his gained momentum in the massive shadow of his wildly successful power metal superheroes, slowly, steadily, biding its time, waiting for the right moment. This moment is now: With his self-titled debut, Tony Kakko opens the curtains into this strange new world of his just enough to take a first peek – and instantly hunger for more. A master story teller and a wizard of conjuring musical emotions, Himmelkraft stages Kakkos trademark talents in a wholly new, unexpected and thrilling way. To him, the sky truly is the limit, bestowing upon us an album that sounds like nothing else out there – brooding and dark, menacing and eerie, stomping and monumental.




This project sees Tony Kakko enter a fascinating new era. Much like the legendary Elven smiths of old, forging away in solemn silence, Kakko has stopped the wheel of time to reinvent himself and his bold musical vision. Shrouded in mystery, a new being appears in the fog, barely discernible and yet distinct the very moment Tony Kakko starts to sing.

Yet, everything else remains just what it was from the very start – a mystery. Call them songs for a dying world or songs for a world reborn – either way, you will be intrigued how this extraordinary project will develop. And that’s a promise
"

Yellow & Black Vinyl. "The first three are innocent in a way, because we didn't have an audience when we were making them," Oberst says. "But from Lifted on, I was definitely aware of an audience. Lifted was well-received right away, and then everything happened with Wide Awake and Digital Ash." Those two albums came out simultaneously. And their lead singles - "Take It Easy (Love Nothing)," from the austere, remote Digital Ash, and "Lua," from the warm, folky Wide Awake - debuted in the top two slots on the Billboard Hot 100. "First Day of My Life," also from Wide Awake, would later be voted the Number One love song of all time by NPR Music's reader's poll.Bright Eyes had officially broken through. It was a heady, exciting time, but also fraught and tense, both because of the band's careening new fame, and because of the state of the world. When Bright Eyes made their Tonight Show debut in 2006, they chose to perform none of their shiny new hits, instead delivering a searing, harrowing rendition of their caustic anti-Bush anthem, "When The President Talks To God."These days, Oberst is still amusing himself by messing with the extremes Bright Eyes baked into this era's releases, extremes that reflected the polar, with-us-or-against-us, fractious feel of the times. The reworked Digital Ash tracks, originally so clean and elegant, are, on the companion EP, full of "harmonica and mandolins - folky vibes," Oberst says. While the analogue sweetness of the Wide Awake songs have been put through a detached nihilism filter.

Emergent polymath Brother Aten makes his first outing on Bruk with an icy slice of system-ready
minimalism, guided by the cooly detached voice of Ze R.
Taking cues from cult sci-fi and early 80s no wave, Fragmented Dystopia is a crystal clear
statement trimmed of all unnecessary baggage. The title spells out the mood — Aten's
soundscapes are stark and synthetic machine mantras punched out on outboard instruments
navigating gritty, futuristic zones.
On 'Unavailable' steadily humming drones shape the space in which Ze R. hovers, initially
delivering a deadpan denial before their humanity sneaks in as the track snakes through an
intricate lattice of crisp digital percussion. Short and razor-sharp two-parter 'Fragmented Dystopia'
finds an even sparser corner to occupy within Aten's subtly cyberpunk vision, where Ze R.'s
scattered words cut a measured figure delivered at acute angles before breaking into wilder forms
at the end of Part 2.

Originally from Brooklyn and now based in Berlin, Brother Aten has been weaving a fascinating
tapestry of audio and visual work as MAF. His artwork examines the fraught relationship between
technology and society. Ze R. explores dimensions of sexuality, subjectivity and individualism
through writing, performance and community organisation.

Exploring late-night, after-hours meditations on sound; ‘Everything Above The Sky (Astral Travelling with Luke Una)’ is a new compilation by the titular DJ, promoter and enigmatic cultural curator. Off the back of the E Soul Cultura phenomena, this compilation comes at a timely point in Luke’s rich career as he soars the heights of playing all over the world. Avoiding any chance of his sound being pigeonholed, Luke has put together a tracklist of songs and music that have a transcendental feel, after coming off the grid, going back to source, outside the city walls .

Music has long been believed to aid out of body experiences and many of us have searched long and hard for a combination of those elusive ingredients that might alleviate some of the monotony of everyday life, our daily routines and obligations, and those things that seem to block us from the spirit of the universe. In this collection, Luke selects music with all the right ingredients in just the right quantities, allowing the listener to engage in an esoteric journey of enlightenment through sound. Being a prolific collector of music, Luke initially delivered enough tracks to compile several compilations, making the licensing process the biggest effort to date for the label. The music moves softly and slowly, never becoming too intrusive, exemplifying the wonderful elevating properties of simple songs played from the heart.

Luke’s Everything Above The Sky manifesto reads, “Astral Travelling in the meadowlands with acid folk, spiritual jazz, around midnight hocus pocus, cosmic psychedelic soul, magical spellbound whirling swirling love songs, Brazilian ballads of light into machine soul gospel utopia dreaming, Balearic bossa, Outer Space ancient African drum, the breath of trees, escaping the big bad modern world, gathering round winter fires, walking amongst the bracken in Padley Gorge in late summer twilight, overlooking the Hope Valley, escaping ego, detaching and finally letting go amongst the stars with the slowly floating people. It’s beautiful beyond. Everything above the Sky”.

Beginning his career as an original Sheffield house young blood in the mid 1980s, Luke’s move to Manchester and partnership with Justin Crawford saw the birth of Electric Chair, a cornerstone cult night in the UK underground club scene. Then came Electric Elephant, a Croatian festival paying homage to their wild eclecticism from Balearic to Brazilian to É Soul, house, disco and techno. Luke’s much loved, long-running Homoelectric night and more recently Homobloc sell out festival for 10,000 souls has been at the forefront of Manchester’s LGBTQ+ cultural landscape. Luke’s Friday evening show on Worldwide FM captured imaginations and became a cult four-hour must-listen monthly journey for fans all over the world. Today, Luke remains, as ever, at the forefront of a changing milieu, pairing the momentous legacy of Manchester’s 80s and 90s scene with the delivery of what today’s club communities need to get down.

Diving deeper into the story of Japanese reggae pop, Tokyo Riddim Vol. 2 explores an electronic, new wave and often experimental sound unlike anything Japan or Jamaica had ever heard before.

The first time Ryuichi Sakamoto left Japan, he did not go to the United States or Europe - he went to Jamaica. It was 1978, YMO were about to release their debut album, but Sakamoto was in Kingston, invited to play synths for Japanese idol singer Teresa Noda at Dynamic Sound Studios in a band alongside Neville Hinds and none other than Rita Marley. It’s not a story many know, but one which would spark Sakamoto’s fascination with dub and mark a new chapter in the ongoing Japanese love affair with reggae.

The Teresa Noda tracks they cut - ‘Tropical Love’ and ‘Yellow Moon’ - bookend this second volume of Time Capsule’s Tokyo Riddim compilation, which tells the wider story of how a fascination with Jamrock swept Japan, adding a dash of lime to that sweet city pop sound, embracing a globalised musical palette and creating a whole new genre in the process.

For some, like Sakamoto, a diversion into reggae was part of broader fascination with new sounds and styles, tipped into the global disco of homage and appropriation that made Japanese music of the late ‘70s and early ‘80s some of the most creative and undefinable in the world.

You had iconic shape-shifter Yosui Inoue, who toyed with reggae, afro-beat and electro-Balearic, (and whose For Life Records released several tracks on this comp), and Kay Ishiguro, who enlisted J-reggae originator Pecker on the ambitious Stevie Wonder-esque ‘Red Drip’.

Then there were the Compass Point devotees - producers and musicians alike who were enthralled by the sound of the Bahamas studio and drew on the detached cool of Grace Jones - as heard in the music of Juicy Fruits, and the disco noir of Casablanca-signed femme fatale Yuki Nakayamate. Sometimes, as was the case with Risa Minami, the J-reggae influence said more about Japan than it did about Jamaica.

But where Tokyo Riddim Vol. 1 focused on the city pop sound, this compilation goes further, digging out the more experimental collaborations and hybrids exemplified by Tomoko Aran, who in working with Yusuaki Shimizu and Mariah emphasised just how far reggae had travelled to be recast into something entirely new on the other side of the world.

Perhaps more than anything, in connecting the dots between Tokyo and Kingston, between Jamaica and Japan, the Japanese reggae was building a musical language that existed outside of the paradigms of US and European cultural hegemony - an encounter shaped by commerce, capital and creativity that is now being recognised more broadly for the first time.

Here we go with the 9th release of Gabberhead Records

Exploring late-night, after-hours meditations on sound; ‘Everything Above The Sky (Astral Travelling with Luke Una)’ is a new compilation by the titular DJ, promoter and enigmatic cultural curator. Off the back of the E Soul Cultura phenomena, this compilation comes at a timely point in Luke’s rich career as he soars the heights of playing all over the world. Avoiding any chance of his sound being pigeonholed, Luke has put together a tracklist of songs and music that have a transcendental feel, after coming off the grid, going back to source, outside the city walls .

Music has long been believed to aid out of body experiences and many of us have searched long and hard for a combination of those elusive ingredients that might alleviate some of the monotony of everyday life, our daily routines and obligations, and those things that seem to block us from the spirit of the universe. In this collection, Luke selects music with all the right ingredients in just the right quantities, allowing the listener to engage in an esoteric journey of enlightenment through sound. Being a prolific collector of music, Luke initially delivered enough tracks to compile several compilations, making the licensing process the biggest effort to date for the label. The music moves softly and slowly, never becoming too intrusive, exemplifying the wonderful elevating properties of simple songs played from the heart.

Luke’s Everything Above The Sky manifesto reads, “Astral Travelling in the meadowlands with acid folk, spiritual jazz, around midnight hocus pocus, cosmic psychedelic soul, magical spellbound whirling swirling love songs, Brazilian ballads of light into machine soul gospel utopia dreaming, Balearic bossa, Outer Space ancient African drum, the breath of trees, escaping the big bad modern world, gathering round winter fires, walking amongst the bracken in Padley Gorge in late summer twilight, overlooking the Hope Valley, escaping ego, detaching and finally letting go amongst the stars with the slowly floating people. It’s beautiful beyond. Everything above the Sky”.

Beginning his career as an original Sheffield house young blood in the mid 1980s, Luke’s move to Manchester and partnership with Justin Crawford saw the birth of Electric Chair, a cornerstone cult night in the UK underground club scene. Then came Electric Elephant, a Croatian festival paying homage to their wild eclecticism from Balearic to Brazilian to É Soul, house, disco and techno. Luke’s much loved, long-running Homoelectric night and more recently Homobloc sell out festival for 10,000 souls has been at the forefront of Manchester’s LGBTQ+ cultural landscape. Luke’s Friday evening show on Worldwide FM captured imaginations and became a cult four-hour must-listen monthly journey for fans all over the world. Today, Luke remains, as ever, at the forefront of a changing milieu, pairing the momentous legacy of Manchester’s 80s and 90s scene with the delivery of what today’s club communities need to get down.

Forgetting You Is Like Breathing Water, the self-titled debut from the duo of trumpeter Will Evans and guitarist, synthesist, producer and multi-instrumentalist Theo Trump, arrives like a vault revelation. It feels like a decades-old yet newly unearthed masterwork of gorgeous ambient improvisation, the sort of thing scholars live to research and shepherd into deluxe reissue.

The patient, crystalline chords that swell and resonate like a series of confessions; the textured brass murmurs that suggest a ’60s or ’70s Fire Music master at their most poignant. Provocative found-sound experiments threading arcane religious recordings through dystopian soundscapes. Ear-shattering free-noise tumult. Where and when did this music come from? Who are these voices?

As it turns out, Forgetting You Is Like Breathing Water springs from an engrossing human story, though it isn’t necessarily the one you’d expect. This work of stunning maturity is in fact an entrance by two little-known explorers in their early 20s, who grew up together in Virginia, in the shadow of the Blue Ridge Mountains. It documents one of those perfect, sparkling moments in post-adolescence when big decisions and responsibilities are right around the corner, but for a spell, two young artists are able to create among the comforts and nostalgia of their shared past.

It also represents a reunion of sorts, as Evans and Trump connected as toddlers, became inseparable as boys, then pursued independent lives and creative paths as young adults. “Theo is my oldest friend,” Evans says, “and I feel like that’s what this band is — us meeting right in the middle of our interests.”

Now, having conjured this magic, they’ve detached once again: Evans, whose other works include the indie/avant-jazz unit Angelica X, is currently based in New York City. Trump recently moved to England, where he’d participated in his family’s theatre company, to go to school and further his solo ambient project. “This album didn’t start out as something super ambitious,” Evans explains. “It was more just an excuse to spend time together again and make music.”

***

In conversation, Evans and Trump are a delight, especially for cynics who might think that Gen-Z is only capable of doomscrolling. They come across as kindly young intellectuals who grew up using the internet as it was intended, for exposure to ideas and art across genres and generations. Trump points to indie-folk and the oracular post-rock of late Talk Talk, Bark Psychosis and Gastr del Sol. Pressed for his guitar heroes, he cites Bill Orcutt, Mary Halvorson and Marc Ribot, and mentions his devotion to alt-country. Heyday electro-industrial stuff like Skinny Puppy and Nine Inch Nails also meant a lot to him.

Evans is equally intrepid, though his background has a greater jazz focus. Ambrose Akinmusire, among today’s most thoughtfully commanding trumpeters, is a favorite. As for the soulful murmur he offers throughout Forgetting You, Pharoah Sanders’ wistful and lyrical contributions to Floating Points’ work is a touchstone.

The two grew up down the street from each other in the northern Piedmont town of Batesville, Virginia. Their families were friends, holidays were celebrated together and they became the most loyal of pals. As children they had a pretend band.

Then life unfolded, they attended different schools and their paths diverged. Evans discovered John Coltrane and became a jazz obsessive, as Trump found punk and hardcore and later began making ambient music. As a dedicated jazz trumpeter, Evans studied formally and widely; Trump was an autodidact, teaching himself guitar and absorbing synthesis and production techniques. The late teens and very early 20s brought moves away from home and back to home, as well as plenty of listening and learning. The Covid pandemic meant an opportunity to reconnect on long walks. Through it all, together and apart, they remained reverent of each other.

By early 2023, they found themselves living again among the Blue Ridge Mountains. In the evening, after giving trumpet lessons in Charlottesville, Evans would make the eerily beautiful trek “over the mountain” to Trump’s home in Staunton, Virginia. They’d talk and eat and begin to improvise, deep into the night. Evans played trumpet and sometimes drums. (Given the wee-hours recording schedule, the neighbors didn’t appreciate the latter.) Trump plugged a rickety, junk-store Telecaster-style guitar into a cheap solid-state amp and explored open tunings; he also layered on lap steel, electric bass, synths and electronics.

They locked in and relished each other’s gifts. In Trump, those include patience and intentionality and sonic decision-making; for Evans, a distinctive trumpet sound that both musicians think of as a singer’s voice. “Will’s playing is so thoughtful and well placed,” Trump says. “My goal from a producer’s mindset is that the trumpet will occupy the space that vocals would take.”

Often, they got lost in the best way. “The thing I look for most when I’m playing is that feeling of disappearing into what you’re doing,” Evans says. “Usually when that happens, the music is good.”

By the same token, they didn’t pursue free improvisation as an ethic, or as a pure process. Their goal was something closer to spontaneous composition. “We were trying to make good songs,” Evans says simply. Later, Trump did brilliant post-production work, expanding a modest setup into an enthralling soundworld. Under his judicious editorship, music that was wholly improvised sounds at times like a carefully composed new-music commission.

The results speak for themselves. “A Happy Death” summons up a swath of American desolation through the viewfinder of Wim Wenders. “Flesh of Lost Summers” and “Partings” are highlights from an essential ECM LP that never was. “A Collapse of Horses” infuses those seminal post-rock influences with the plod of doom metal or slowcore. The album’s final track, “The Mountains Are a Dream That Calls to Me,” was in fact the first thing the duo recorded, as an evocation of those twilit drives across the Blue Ridge Mountains. “Looking back at what we chose to name the songs,” Evans says, “and some of the sounds and how they make me feel, there is an air of impermanence and loss to this album.”

“I’m excited for everything that’s to come,” he adds, “but I recently thought, ‘Damn — that’s not going to happen again.’ It was a privilege for us to have that time together.”

No messing basement gear on a new Non Stop Rhythm sub-label.
Late night steez that go into the filthy realms. All cuts bump. TIP!

Through X Scroll Era, Gabo Barranco, aka AAAA, conducts a rigorous overhaul of the aesthetics and statements of low-profile IDM, trance, and progressive-acid music typical of the early 2000’s. In addition to this inherent and undeniable veneration for the era, the pieces on this album — which originated from recordings and experimental exercises with gear and accidentally became an album — serve also as a kind of retrospective inspection of Mexico City's suburbs (Lomas de Sotelo), with landscapes full of indiscriminate concrete, highways of two and three levels, factories, and parking lots that have supplanted nature with their own detached beauty. It is a sound memory, a specific melancholy that praises skate squads of the area, friends from the past, parties, and substances. It reviews the decline of rave culture but also its resilience and capacity for transformation. What AAAA offers us with X Scroll Era is an almost multigenerational soundtrack, a memory that feels collective and recollects euphoria, ecstasy, and nostalgia.

After several LPs and EPs (Acid Test, Omnidisc, Janushoved) and several years active in the dance and contemplative electronic music circuit (MUTEK, BERGHAIN, iii Points, RBMA), X Scroll Era is the first album by Gabo Barranco, aka AAAA, published on the Mexican label Umor Rex.

Over atmospheric instrumentation expanded by cinematic structure and pacing, Pearlty presents Knifeplay somewhere between dream-pop influenced shoegaze and lofty slowcore, never fully committing to one or the other in its insistence on creating an immersive, organic world.

Originally released in 2019, Knifeplay’s vivid debut Pearlty documents songwriter Tj Strohmer’s expressions of early adulthood in what he describes as “the journey from innocence to experience.”

Written during a time of immense inspiration, Strohmer was able to peel himself away from detached nihilism, uncovering the physicality and therapeutic powers of songwriting. Newly emboldened by this discovery and the talented community surrounding him, Strohmer channeled this revelation into his work, taking Knifeplay from a bedroom experiment that merely wrote songs to a more substantial project with a purpose.

2024 Reissue

Deep in View is the debut album from Cola, a new project from Ought members Tim Darcy and Ben Stidworhty. Built on a foundation of elegant guitar grooves and knotty rhythms, Deep in View offers meditations on modern life and technology through curious lyrical vignettes, where everyday objects and scenes are never just as they seem. Cola, which most obviously is the fizzy beverage that’s bound “to poison most ordinary life on Earth,” as Darcy recites in spoken word on closing track “Landers,” but is also a term in poetics, as well as acronyms related to social security (Cost of Living Adjustment) and aeronautics (Collision on Launch Assessment).

The album sounds streamlined and intentional, as the rhythms of the punchy and exuberant guitar parts, urgent basslines, and unexpected drum patterns all tangle with each other in an elegant dance. At the center of all these elements is Darcy, whose characteristically wry voice shifts from detached to decisive to distressed, throughout the album’s course. Both enigmatically dense in meaning but precisely intricate in sound, Deep in View is an album that sparks novel interpretations with every listen, like an art object that takes on new shape with each angle from which you hold it.

On her sophomore album "Germ in a Population of Buildings", upsammy moves through her surroundings with the curiosity of a place-bending landscape architect. The album is rooted in her interest for ambiguous environments in constant shift, and the feeling of discovering strange patterns in different ecosystems. Often, the Amsterdam-based artist finds herself zooming in and out beyond a place's most recognizable surface features to inhabit the microscopic and gigantic. Gathering field recordings and evocative environmental sounds, she shapes this source material into vibrating electro-acoustic rhythms and unstable, psychedelic textures. upsammy's debut album, 2020's critically-acclaimed "Zoom", was praised for its careful reimagining of IDM, evolving vignettes that nodded towards the dancefloor without being shackled to its rigid set of rules. On "Germ in a Population of Buildings" her process has evolved considerably; the skeletal trace of IDM is still present but it's been trapped in amber, allowing her unique sonic landscape to develop organically. 'Being is a Stone' is a proof of concept in many ways, layering upsammy's contorted voice in rickety patterns beneath a lattice of fragile rhythms and faintly melancholy synths. It's never immediately obvious where the sounds are coming from - a hiccuping beat might be glass cracking underfoot, and larger pulses could be wet concrete, rusted iron or bent plastic. As the sounds develop they morph into each other, demolishing what came before and building on top of the ornamental wreckage. On the dynamic 'Constructing', upsammy's sound design fluxes through hyperactive bass music structures, abstracting expectations at every turn. Often her sounds are whisper quiet, rattling and vibrating until heavier masonry drops and disrupts the structure. And when discernible rhythms subside into the background, like on the album's eerie title track, they become almost illusory, morphing between the real world and the electronic. upsammy's processed voice works like a bridge between these realms, snaking between stark, whimsical melodies on 'Patterning', arching from AutoTuned detachment into cooing, dreamy intimacy. By considering the harmonies between each location she's visited, upsammy has been able to build a unique topology that's an uncanny digital amalgam of her lived experience. It's a thoughtful alternative in an era more concerned with flatting the landscape than crumpling it and examining its peaks and troughs.

East of Ely is Miracle Mile's first album since 2012 - It was largely written on the Suffolk coast and later recorded between London and Norfolk - Both Trevor and Marcus found bucolic bliss in coastal retreat - The detachment informed the writing process and limited the palette to primary colours - You won't be dancing but we hope that the songs offer some kind of balmy relief to your day.

"Trevor Jones finds the poetry in real life; Marcus Cliffe anchors it in the sweetest pop. Gorgeous as ever. You may cry." - The Sunday Times

A phase of rhythmic and emotional detachment.
Uncontrolled sounds, no logic, odd numbers, constant collapse of metrics.
I am a computer and I am free.

On his 17th full-length album, singer-songwriter Anders Osborne describes Picasso’s Villa, “a condensed story about living in America between 2018-2021, the fears, confusion, deep joy and peace achieved through true friendship, family, community, hours of meditation and detachment from ego.