Cerca:detache

Music is a higher revelation than all wisdom and philosophy.
ARTS TRASPARENT was born with Detache that presents his music to the world.
Area Forty_One and Roger Gerresen as Gasometric Run on the epic remix work.
All on transparent purple 12".

After the storm of their self-titled debut, Geneva duo Bound By Endogamy return to Pinkman with an album that trades brute force for precision. The rage remains, but it's sharpened, disciplined, and driven by melancholy rather than rupture. Their minimal synth and industrial instincts rise to the surface, carving out room for melody without softening their confrontational edge. Angular basslines coil beneath Kleio Thomaides' voice, at times detached and at times devastating, while Shlomo Balexert's drum programming and synth work build a taut metallic tension. The result is both intimate and mechanical: love songs for disenchanted souls, post-punk electronics stripped to the bare wire. Bound By Endogamy have always blurred the line between performance and survival, and here they do it with minimal gestures and maximum impact.

“II” is the second album by Californian post-punk heroes Alone in My Room. Continuing their exploration of isolation and urban tension, the band sharpens their stark, stripped-down sound, blending cold-wave severity with lo-fi intimacy. Pulsed basslines, detached vocals, and raw, close-mic’d production create an atmosphere that feels oppressive yet deeply personal. Following their 2020 debut Alone in My Room—a claustrophobic, late-night statement—the band pushes further into darker, more confrontational territory, solidifying their place in modern underground post-punk. Presented in ONE-OFF truly limited edition of 300 copies lacquered pressed on 180 gr. high quality solid WHITE vinyl. All tracks have been specially remastered and mastered for vinyl by Daniel Hallhuber at Young and Cold Studios (Germany).

Love For Love Vol.1 is a sumptuous two-tracker that takes you into both the unknown and the familiar.

On Side A, Mauritzio’s mesmerising, swirling ‘Sympathy’ (Gamma Reshape Boot) acts like a sonic shower that hits your body wherever it aches. The track kicks off with a subtle beat and acid-tinged backbone, spreading out into a deep, bass-laden symphony of sounds, detached vocals and warm synth chords. One for the late-night crowd searching for the darker corners of the dance floor for inspiration.

Flip over to Side B and Luber's ‘Somebody’ is waiting in the alley for you. At 124 bpm, ‘Somebody’ chugs along from the off with a curiously swingy beat, complete with perfectly trimmed hi-hats and a heavy double bassline. The familiar vocal acts as the track’s calling card – melancholic yet soaringly beautiful. ‘Somebody’ hits your nostalgia nodes with the flick of an ethereal finger, delivering low-end shuffle and hypnotic rhythms to lose yourself in.

Love For Love Vol.1 feels like the start of something special – and it would be wise to have these first steps in your record bag.

Two song mini-ep featuring blistering new song "Semi-detached Furnished Home" and a distinctly garage punk reworking of Roger Miller's "Lou's Got The Flu". Ultra limited edition 7 inch available in two colourways

“It’s been on my wishlist for a while that the incredibly talented Julienne Dessagne does a techno EP for us,” Michael Mayer says. You can hear why, straight up, on Speicher 139, as Dessagne’s project Fantastic Twins is finally let loose on Kompakt’s storied series. The key words: psychedelic acid trax. “False Index” is peeled back to core: a fearsome rhythm, with an endlessly helixing synth pattern twisting around your skull, crinkling like cellophane and warping like burnt plastic, while Dessagne’s Sprechstimme floats above everything – detached but effortlessly perceptive. “New Systems” is a new kind of Europe Endless – hypnotic and lush, its deep drones pinpricked by sonar bleep. “Uninhibited” is catchy in a way that only Dessagne can make possible, its vocal tattoo burnt into your mind as it echoes through massive architectures, tones dropping from scaffold and splashing at your feet as glitch-work burrows its way up through the floor, directly into your earholes. Uninhibited? Everything here’s simultaneously under control, all under the watchful, guiding eye of Dessagne, and playfully, wildly out of control, little arrangements of phenomena let loose to build new worlds. Organised chaos, and chaotic organisation.

„Es stand schon seit einiger Zeit auf meiner Wunschliste, dass die unglaublich talentierte Julienne Dessagne eine Techno-EP für uns produziert“, sagt Michael Mayer. Auf Speicher 139 kann man sofort hören, warum, denn Dessagnes Projekt Fantastic Twins erscheint endlich in der legendären Serie von Kompakt. Die Schlüsselwörter: psychedelische Acid-Trax. „False Index“ ist auf das Wesentliche reduziert: ein furchteinflößender Rhythmus mit einem sich endlos windenden Synth-Pattern, das sich um den Schädel dreht, wie Zellophan knistert und sich wie verbranntes Plastik verzieht, während Dessagnes Sprechstimme über allem schwebt – distanziert, aber mühelos wahrnehmbar. „New Systems“ ist eine neue Art von Europa Endlos – hypnotisch und üppig, seine tiefen Drones von Sonar-Pieptönen durchbrochen. „Uninhibited“ ist eingängig auf eine Weise, wie es nur Dessagne möglich macht, ihre Stimme brennt sich in dein Gedächtnis ein, während sie durch massive Architekturen hallt, Töne fallen vom Gerüst und spritzen an deinen Füßen, während sich Glitch-Work seinen Weg durch den Boden bahnt, direkt in deine Ohren. Hemmungslos? Hier ist alles gleichzeitig unter Kontrolle, alles unter dem wachsamen, leitenden Blick von Dessagne, und spielerisch, wild außer Kontrolle, lassen sich kleine Arrangements von Phänomenen los, um neue Welten zu erschaffen. Organisiertes Chaos und chaotische Organisation.

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.

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.

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.

Double 12" release

The Story — From the Streets of Rome to the Male Productions Label
In the early 1990s, Rome lived in a kind of suspended moment. The city was still tied to its historic clubs, yet in the outskirts—inside abandoned warehouses, quarries along the coastline, and the wooded parks north of the capital—something new was beginning to stir. A nocturnal, constantly shifting movement fuelled by a hunger for freedom and a sonic curiosity that reached far beyond the mainstream.

Moving through this ferment was Francesco “Chicco” Furlotti. First an organizer of unconventional parties and underground nights, he soon became one of the driving forces behind Rome’s itinerant rave scene. Furlotti sensed that a wave of change was about to sweep across the city. It wasn’t just about parties: it was the rise of a culture, a new way of thinking about music, community, and belonging.

It was within those nights—later held with official permits, properly built sound systems, and an ever-growing crowd—that Furlotti recognized the existence of a distinctly Roman sound, and the need to capture it, preserve it, and give it tangible form.
So, in 1991, he decided to take a bolder step: to found an independent record label—small, determined, and far removed from the commercial logic that dominated at the time.
That was the birth of Male Productions.

Male was not a label like any other: it was a workshop, a gathering point, a creative hub where DJs, producers, friends, and wanderers converged. Within that environment, an artistic core took shape—Stefano Di Carlo, Leo Young, and Mauro Tannino, along with other collaborators orbiting around Furlotti. From their synergy emerged a project whose very name declared its mission:

The True Underground Sound of Rome.

The collective did not simply aim to release music; it sought to tell a story of Rome through sounds that defied categorization: house, techno, ambient, electronic mysticism, psychedelic visions… a unique blend, instantly recognizable, emotional, and experimental. The sessions unfolded using essential yet razor-sharp gear: Roland drum machines, analogue synthesizers, Akai samplers, stripped-down mixers. Few tools, endless imagination.
The first result of this work was the 12” Secret Doctrine, released in 1991 in an extremely limited run—around 500 promotional copies, according to accounts. The record captured something that until then had floated only in the air of Roman raves: enveloping atmospheres, deep rhythms, melodies built to make the mind travel far beyond the dancefloor. A sound that did not imitate what was happening in Detroit, London, or Berlin, but absorbed those influences and re-sculpted them with a distinctly Roman sensibility.
Yet, precisely because it was independent and detached from commercial circuits, Male’s output remained sparse: few EPs, few copies, irregular distribution. Over time, those records became rare artifacts—almost mythical objects within the Italian electronic scene. The legacy of Male Productions seemed destined to survive only in the memories of those early years, in the stories told after raves, and in the private archives of a handful of collectors.
Many years later, thanks to the almost accidental rediscovery of a few original copies of the first two releases issued by Male Productions, it became possible to undertake a meticulous process of recovery and restoration of the audio etched into those grooves, with the aim of preserving as fully as possible the quality and character of that unrepeatable sound.

We are therefore able today to present — at last in a complete and faithful form — the first two mixes created for Male Productions, now released on a double vinyl that brings back into the present the exact moment when it all began: the nomadic nights of the raves, Furlotti’s vision, the creativity of Di Carlo, Young and Tannino, and the sonic identity of a Rome in the midst of transformation.

This is not merely a reissue.
It is a historical document.
A fragment of a culture that changed the city.
The authentic sound of the Roman underground, finally returned to the world.

Forged from the fire of internal struggles, Loraine James was wrestling with confidence and a desire for change when she embarked on “Detached From The Rest Of You”. A guiding hand came through producing 2025's “Clandestine” EP with singer Anysia Kym, which gave her the experience of a more 'pop' setting and the tools and insight to work her instrumentals into more conventional shapes; a shift from club driven sounds and winding instrumentals into more precise song forms.


Loraine’s production is stripped to the bone, soundscapes of clicks and glitches inspired by Aoki Takamasa, Ryoji Ikeda, and the early-00s Clicks & Cuts school. Here, often with not much more than sparse keyboard chords to fill in with subtle colouring, she uses the space around the sounds and vocals to draw the listener in to a succinct and direct album, her most confident yet.


Guest contributors include vocalist Sydney Spann on “In a Rut”, Alan Sparkhawk (Low) on downcast anthem “Peak Again”, Miho Hatori (Cibo Matto) on “Flatline”, Anysia Kim on “Score”, and Tirzah on “Habits and Patterns”. Finally her old spar, the rapper Le3 bLACK returns to spit fire with the jazz-indebted track “Ending Us All” with Fyn Dobson backing on tumbling drums.

A Place In My Memory Is All I Have To Claim is the new album by Australian atmospheric pop trio Hydroplane, the storied 'offshoot' formed by three quarters of independent pop group, The Cat's Miaow. On this, their first music after two decades plus of radio silence, Andrew Withycombe, Kerrie Bolton and Bart Cummings return to the gentle, close-quarters musical world they shared around the turn of the century.

Recorded during 2024 in Melbourne and Ballarat, A Place In My Memory… picks up the thread Hydroplane set down with its precursor, 2001's The Sound Of Changing Places, though you can hear echoes of their other releases, too, with Withycombe noting a through-line from the group's 1998 "Failed Adventure" single. There's little quite like A Place In My Memory…, then or now, though. Maybe you can draw some connections between Hydroplane and their sister group, The Cat's Miaow, while fellow travellers might include Empress, The Ah Club, and further back, Young Marble Giants, Veronique Vincent (the muffled, ticking drum machine also makes me think of Robin Gibb's Robin's Reign).

There's also an umbilical to the bedroom-crafted electronica doing the rounds in the late nineties and early noughties. Hydroplane hint at this through their approach to songwriting, which often builds creatively around loops as structural devices. Through all this, the trio achieve an effortless, organic weightlessness across these nine lovely songs. Many feature Bolton's clear singing voice, drifting along, while guitars, keyboards, drum machines and loops tickertape away. The constituent parts fit together, but they also have a curiously detached quality - think of abstract cloud formations sharing the same sky.

Hydroplane and The Cat's Miaow often dealt in emotional ambiguity and uncertainty, and the uncertainty of the nostalgic. This was always one of the most appealing facets of their music, and A Place In My Memory… is thus named perfectly. I couldn't dream up a better title for the album and its reflections on history, lived experience, and the inevitable tangle between these two phenomena. These reflections variously address such concerns as human cruelty, flight, space travel, adventurism and spiritualism. There's also "To the Lighthouse", not a direct reference to the Virginia Woolf book, but a great title, nonetheless. (They've always had excellent titles, often borrowed, for songs and albums.)

A beautiful collection of drowsy, sleepy pop, humble and quiet, but resolute in its craft, A Place In My Memory Is All I Have To Claim is dream work in practice; a lovely reintroduction. Welcome back, then.

Originally released in 1993, the ‘Brown Album‘ defied expectations and had a significant genre and cultural impact - showcasing the duo's scope and ambition. It was also met with widespread critical acclaim upon release, with NME awarding it 9/10 in their review, and it was chosen as one of Mixmag’s “best albums of all time”. The album's blend of diverse influences and its rejection of conventional norms helped to solidify Orbital's reputation as The Godfathers Of Rave, expanding the horizons of electronic music beyond local DJ nights.

Over 30 years on, London Records re-release this genre defying album – loaded with 23 additional tracks - rarities and previously unreleased material, including ‘Live From the Limelight, New York 1992’. Also includes a hardback book containing unseen photos, a track-by-track by Phil and Paul Hartnoll + interviews and essays on the making of the album by esteemed music journalist Andrew Harrison, a slipmat and flyer recreations from the era.

Vinyl masters cut at half speed, to ensure maximum audio fidelity.

Oversized custom cut LP jackets (13” / 33.02 cm width)
Silkscreened with bespoke iridescent citrus green ink by Mark Rice
Short story by Natalia Zuluaga

Flexi 7”:
steaming mescaline (extended mix by bad lsd trips)
Citrus green metallic foil stamp
Pressed in full stereo
Edition of 150

I.

bad lsd trips is the collaborative duo of makers doris dana and domingo castillo flores. Respectively the two have fostered practices that have sprawled out through various approaches and, whether in the lanes of the musical or the contemporary arts, the phenomenology of the social and inclusive prevails. On ultrafest, this motif continues through the psychedelia of its eight time-defying recordings, welcoming the listener into an open temporal architecture of the stereo field as a signifier of environment. It is worth noting that the group began collaborating in Miami, Florida with longer form improvisations recorded to a stereo cassette deck. In these recordings, the paved geographical sprawl and oceanic view permeated the approach to amassing long swaths of sound material. Listening back on that work at the time of this writing, each track feels as though one is walking into an active space, arriving to an event already in full swing and finding your place inside of it. On ultrafest (this album) something different occurs. The space and events are built around you as you move through the record.

II.

The name of the album is ultrafest, which should effectively provoke your mind's eye the imagery of young people dancing, salivating, grinding, and imbibing chemical compounds to the perversely formalized musical genres of “Electronic Dance Music” and latter-era Dubstep often heard in European Uber rides and energy drink commercials. A far distance from the icy and machinic reverie of Techno’s finest rave eras or the notable historical contributions of Miami’s cerebral producers to IDM’s global output, ultrafest is a libidinal catharsis as festival scaled to a multinational corporation of hedonistic excess. The festival has been a hallmark of Miami cultural industry production and optical enticement for tourism, purportedly bringing in nearly a billion dollars in revenue to the city since 2012. Scores of documentation exist wherein this decadent escapism leaves the concertgoer, usually in some neon garment on a near nude body potentially adorned with fluffy faux fur leg warmers, facing a comedown from the combination of volume, sun, dehydration, and methylenedioxy-methylamphetamine. This MDMA experience characterizes an aspect of the way bad lsd trips employs vocals and pitch on this album. The detached, high octaved longing of a high pitched vocal is decoupled from its typical auditory body of song. High-pass clicks and pops touch the (h)air on the back of the neck, promising goosebumps and teasing towards euphoric rushes of dopamine, yet also exist decoupled from the body of song. As the dopamine depletes and the sun imposes itself, Miami’s downtown of skeleton real estate is your company as you meander towards your parked vehicle to rest your fatigued senses, elevated heart rate, and quench the need for air conditioning on your skin. The immediacy of bombastic social immersion to architectural alienation palpable here.

III...

- Nick Klein

180G BLACK VINYL

Since Outlaws in 2020, Ludivine Issambourg's flute has not cooled down. How could it have, when with that album of Hubert Laws covers, it had reached incandescence? Still panting, burning despite the lid of its case left wide open, it awaited the opportunity to continue the adventures that Master Laws himself had praised.

A continuation? Above The Laws isn't quite that.

Although his name still appears, Hubert L. is no longer the sole guide in exploring the vast galaxies of jazz-funk. Through covers but especially as an enhancer of her own compositions, Ludivine has invoked the spirit and intangible presence of Jeremy Steig, Ronald Sneijder, and Bobby Humphrey—the legends of the flute.

Guided by an unescapable groove, with a musical dial set to the late 70s and early 80s, Ludivine has enlisted the help of a brass section this time, a true propulsion engine for funk that can also shift to a soulful breath if the moment calls for it. Supporting the keyboards, there's a Moog laying down its rich layers or twisting tones.

The flutes are used like levers to stabilize the flight or, conversely, to make it soar even faster through the measures. The alto version, which Ludivine had previously used sparingly, adds the necessary velvety note when it’s time to embark on smoother destinations. Speeding up the tempo to make passengers rise from their seats as if danger were imminent; calming the atmosphere to put them in a reassuring cocoon where they can let their thoughts and spirits wander, the improvisations find their place in the compositions observed from the porthole. Detached from gravity, yet still very much in tune with the vibe of cities marked as hot spots on the current jazz scene radar, it's the scent of these streets that permeates some tracks of Above The Laws.

Directed from the control tower by Eric Legnini, Chassol, Alex Finkin, and Michaël Lecoq, Above The Laws benefits from a few stops along the way where precious connections are established. Nils Landgren and his trombone in the colors of the Swedish flag, Laurent De Wilde for a chase between flute and Fender Rhodes, Céline Bonacina’s saxophone for an Afrobeat detour.

But it's at the edge of a journey where organic intensity has continued to assert itself without losing power that Ludivine connected with Brian Jackson for a cover of "Angel Dust," a track from the era when he and his partner Gil Scott-Heron were creating soul masterpieces. One of them featured a flutist by the name of Hubert Laws.

The starting point of Ludivine's latest jazz-funk explorations also becomes the endpoint. Elevated by the ten tracks of Above The Laws, Ludivine Issambourg closes a loop where she has placed her flute and its flourishes in an undeniably leading role. Opening the doors to ambitious orchestrations, unexplored horizons, she weaves into her compositions the experiences, places, and encounters that have shaped her.

Nadyne Rush is a Italian-Haitian singer who begin her artistic career
very earlier in jazz musical range, it boasts multiple experiences
abroad and Italy and collaborations with the most important Italian
musicians.

She was the backing vocals of the Italian Funky Group Dirotta on Cuba and the Italian trapper Ghali and collaborate with many artist as Mario Biondi, Gegè Telesforo, Neri Per Caso, Bengi and Fabrizio Bosso.

Now on FullTime Production her new album 'RUN!' with seven tracks, this album was conceived following the great love for the '70-'80 music sounds, for played live music, for horns sections, for disco music, for funky and house, expertly mixed by the producer Alex Barattini.

An album full of strong emotions, passion, motivation, unconditional
love, is a collection designed to dance but to dream, to redeem and
reflect also, in a world that moves quickly and detaches itself more and more from the ability to perceive values as essentials for our
existence.

Next up on Nuremberg label Kias is an accomplished and subtle recording from Tripeo who follows up releases on Ben Sims label and Clone with his Robber Barons EP.

Approaching the 50th-anniversary release of Artreform, the label's boss, Kyiv-based DJ and sound producer JOSS is counting on experienced artists. The fresh record
with an updated modern design from the abstract art master Elemetalsource boasts two tech-house powerhouses at once: Fedo, the lead artist from Odessa, and Okain,
the Berlin-based musician and owner of Talman Records, who was invited as a remixer.

The three original tracks from Fedo deliver detached, robotic minimal house that could be playing on an interplanetary station as its well-coordinated machinery works
in unison. It is club-centric music with a moving, inventive groove, albeit without any live emotions. A respectful tribute to those 90s cult Plastic City records, and at the
same time, trendy sound for modern minimal and microhouse parties.

Okain's injection boosts the release's dynamics with more thumping rhythms and a hypnotic atmosphere. Nevertheless, this special guest star from Berlin flows in
organically, enhancing Fedo's material with his trademark style, perfected through years of releases on Bpitch Control and Tsuba, and thoroughly tested on Europe's best dancefloors.

Galcher Lustwerk is a Cleveland-born, New York-based producer who has become one of the underground's most respected and unique voices. His deep tracks fuse hypnotic grooves with subtle, late-80s hip-house–inspired vocals, creating a detached yet energising take on the famous Midwest style. He's a member of the White Material collective, first gained attention with the 100% Galcher podcast mix, and has since dropped many choice Eps on the best labels in the scene, including Ghostly International, all of which have cemented his reputation as a visionary.

Shorty Out' is a dreamy late-night sound with spoken words pulling you in as balmy pads swirl without purpose, but plenty of sass. The drums are understated but poignant, inviting you to sink into the vibe and give yourself over to Reflection.

'Vestibule' is another smoky, candle-lit sound, with hunched, dusty drums that make you move without ever being the focal point. More vocal musings bring tender feels and evocative imagery as the synths speak of cosmic escape.

Closer, 'Wet Bulb' is more club-ready with techno-leaning synths and mid-tempo but purposeful drums.

Analogue textures and heady, wispy synths add plenty of human soul, making this another considered cut.

Barking-born Jane Fitz, and Transmigration label founder David Fogarty, curate a collection of tracks from East London and Essex’s rich but largely overlooked constellation of independent record labels and distributors operating from London’s E16 to the edges of the Thames estuary during the 1990s.

Mysterious Vastness documents a hidden and largely detached scene that only forms into something coherent with hindsight. From a time when record labels could press and hand-distribute 1000 copies locally, the late 80s acid house and outdoor rave scenes were moving from the fields to the clubs of London and DJs such as Colin Dale, Colin Faver and Darren Emerson were dominating the airwaves and parties with a distinct mix of other-worldly techno, trance and out-there house music. Among the seemingly bland post-war housing estates and factories, a scattered handful of producers were experimenting with early versions of music production software to create an exotic, end-of-the-century soundtrack to the suburban-meets-industrial landscape.

The compilation features a selection of finds from East London’s second hand record or charity shops over a period of 15 years. Many of which have featured in Jane’s sets over the years, most notably the “Beyond The A13" Podcast for Furthur Electronix. A mix she described at the time as the soundtrack to an area of London “totally bereft of natural beauty, but to me, somehow always full of mystery and wonder.”

Formerly one third of the much-loved trio Black Box Recorder, alongside The Auteurs’ Luke Haines and Jesus and Mary Chain guitarist John Moore, the British singer-songwriter Sarah Nixey has steadily gained acclaim as a solo artist who makes savvy, sophisticated and poised pop.

Delivering vocals with a detached elegance over opulent tracks, any perceived nonchalance in Nixey’s luxe, cut glass voice belies her empathy, where social commentary serves as protest, both explicit and implied. Like Billy Bragg deepfaked as prime Julie Andrews, this strange but effective juxtaposition radiates soft power. ‘Lies of the Land’ depicts a corrupt post-Brexit and Covid-19 world where inequality and division flourish. ‘England's On Fire’ delves into the nuanced concepts of patriotism and nationalism, and ‘Pleasure Bay’ narrates the story of a love affair with a deprived yet beautiful English seaside town, written after Nixey left London, drawn back to the Dorset coast.
More than just a political record though, Nixey was drawn to the poetic elements of living too, telling stories of life and death, love and loss, conflicts and symmetry, in an intimate and close-up way, as if whispering secrets to her listeners.

“Sea Fever explores the bittersweet beauty of human life amid a volatile world of changing seasons and brutal elements,” says Nixey. “These are songs of deep sorrow, remembrance, birth, and change, set against a backdrop of the sensuous natural world.”
‘Rolling Waves’ explores profound grief following her beloved grandmother's death, while ‘Spring Equinox’ celebrates the joy and awe of life after welcoming her first grandchild. ‘At the Edge of the Forest’ is a poignant story of someone losing their memory, and ‘On This Wide Night’ recounts the early hours return home of a teenage runaway.

Childhood Intelligence’s 18th release by ADSR aka. Todd Nickolas & Dominic Paterson from Toronto, Canada. The 2x12” album presents mostly tracks written and produced by Todd, with A1/D1 being in collaboration with Paterson. "Give a teenager in a rural Canadian setting an analog synthesizer, a drum machine and a four-track cassette recorder and feed him a steady diet of 80s EBM, Post-Punk, Synthpop, Electro, Dub, Acid, Hip Hop and House, and you’ll get the kind of genre melding electronic-based music that Todd Nickolas has been known for since his early days of writing and producing." The end result is a versatile one, with “Passive Articulation” presenting abstract Techno - House - Electro visions, and fusing all the elements of vintage Intelligent Dance Music that we cherish so much: warm basslines, beautiful chord progressions, diverse and surprising arrangements infused with haunting melodies, hypnotic cyber sounds, detached vocal cuts and dubbed percussion.…Overall fresh & timeless classiness for the present, past & future.

Recorded various locations New Hamburg, Kitchener-Waterloo, Ottawa, Toronto, San Francisco and Los Angeles. ADSR greatly thanks those who were there from the start, those who joined along the journey and those here now.

For 20 years Bart De Paepe has carved a distinctive trace in the realm of psychedelic underground and counterculture. With several outstanding solo albums on a.o. Astres d’Or, Ultra Eczema, No Basement Is Deep Enough and with many studio and concert ventures with Sylvester Anfang’s funeral folks, Louise Landes Levi, Timo van Luijk, Raymond Dijkstra to name a few, Bart De Paepe developed a wide and sharp spirit within the orbit of psychedelic improvisation. Since 2007, Bart also curates the Sloow Tapes and Sloowax labels with an impressive catalog of music and poetry by a wide range of resonating artists. Bart’s visual work (drawing and painting), parallel to his musical universe, has been used on many of these releases. He is a genuinely curious traveler, always discovering new dimensions, which is clearly to be heard on the four tracks of this album.

Zürahümnah is an immediate and immersive dive into solitary inner and outer worlds of light and darkness. Zürahümnah is a floating vibration of flickering twilight. Zürahümnah is a mysterious journey through detached time and space. Equipped with Hawaiian guitar, piano, organ and cymbal, Bart De Paepe sets the controls for the heart of the sun.

Assembled by Pedro Alves Sousa, Má Estrela is a conjuration of ideas and obsessions around dub, leftfield dance phenomena and the hypnotic potential of urban somnambulance.

In a levitating state, not exactly detached from the unease of these end times, Sousa surrounds himself by a number of accomplices from past and present endeavours to project a scrying mirror reflection of distinct languages of trance and liberation - dub's space and infinity, jungle and footwork's broken shards, DJ Screws legacy perpetually reanimated via numerous slowed down anonymous versions on Youtube and the lyricism and fire of jazz.

Temporarily a quartet, comprised of Sousa on saxophone and its electronic processing, Bruno Silva and Simão Simões on electronics and Gabriel Ferrandini on acoustic and electronic drums, after the departure of Miguel Abras, Má Estrela had in their 2022 debut album their first document of this ongoing process that’s now continued with ‘Tornada". Miguel Abras has since been replaced with Bruna de Moura and Má Estrela came back to being a five piece.

Coming out in November through Discrepant, with Miguel Abras' bass still present, 'Tornada' deepens the symbiotic connection between those rhythmic, melodic and textural particles in a mutating flux of continuities and disruptions throughout seven tracks. Featuring the invocations of Elvin Brandhi in 'All You Did', 'Tornada' makes its way amidst harmonic spectres, rhythmic debris that breathe for life and a certain, implicit idea of ritual that sustains itself liminally between the ethereal dissolution of time and the physical projection of space.

Eisenmund, the debut by Berlin-based Schimmel über Berlin is a thing of pounding, brittle beauty that seeks to continue on from where angst-ridden, early-eighties Berlin left off. Angular, monophonic synths, guitars that slice through with wiry yet melodic urgency, basslines that pulse with a taut, driven precision and drums that meld everything together. Liv Billerbeck’s vocals come from the middle distance, drifting between detached and desperate, as if transmitted through a wintery cityscape.

Title track Eisenmund jangles with reedy synths floating over a carpet of bass and mournful vocals dripping with a sense of loss. This mood spills over into the other tracks, like post-punk jewel Schreck with its iridescently lovely guitars.

Eisenmund is sharp, atmospheric, and quietly thrilling - proof that the shadows of the eighties can still dance under today's flickering lights. The album, immaculately produced by T-Rex, captures that classic post-punk mood of urban decay, late-night introspection and stubborn sense of motion, which for someone like me, who was there back in the day, seems utterly familiar without ever sinking into mere nostalgia.

Fiona Sangster (Xmal Deutschland)
Die Band Schimmel über Berlin ist eines der vielen Klanggesichter der Liv Billerbeck, ein Gesicht, das man niemals sieht, das im Verborgenen sich umblickt und agiert und das trotzdem aber in einer seltenen Klarheit erscheint. Man sieht es beim Hören, schemenhaft. Ihr Schaffen ist befallen vom West-Berlin der 1980er Jahre (Xmal Deutschland, Malaria etc.).

Eine Rolle, gerade in der musikalischen Brillanz und Produktionsraffinesse, spielt britischer Post-Punk, der sich sehr klar auch im treibenden Spiel von T-Rex ​​​(Bass + Produktion), Việt Phương Vũ (Gitarre) und Christian Ramisch (Schlagzeug – mit Phương übrigens bei der ebenfalls sehr guten Band NOJ) zeigt: The Sound, Killing Joke et. al.!

Es handelt sich bei dieser Musik um einen Sound mit retroesquem Anstrich, der spürbar eine vergangene Luft atmet, einer Nostalgie an eine ferne Zeit anheimfällt, die das Quartett ob ihres Alters nicht erlebt haben kann, und die vielmehr eine Sehnsucht bedeutet, in der Unerfüllbarkeit eine Melancholie mitbringt, eine Art treibende Traurigkeit spürbar macht. Das allein ist groß! Was weitergehend daran aber so interessant, besonders und wahnsinnig schön ist: Das klingt in Billerbecks Schaffen – und insbesondere hier, beim Schimmel über Berlin – nicht wie eine Kopie, ein Abklatsch, eine Reminiszenz oder das, was in der so called NNDW bald flächendeckend geschieht: das Anzapfen einer überholten Coolness. Denn etwas ist ganz gegenwärtig daran, in der Eigenständigkeit, macht einem eindringlich das Hier und Jetzt spürbar, auf unterschiedlichen Ebenen: Traurigkeit, ja, aber auch Bock, bis in die Morgenstunden auszugehen, schnellen Schrittes über rutschiges Kopfsteinpflaster zu traben. Musik dann wieder zum Verkrümeln in zugigen Altbauten, von Schreien über einen nebelbedeckten See im Umland Berlins.

Und eben kein Eskapismus, auch wenn die Musik zur Flucht taugte. Merkwürdig ist, dass in dieser Retroschleife dann etwas Märchenhaftes mitschwingt. Vielleicht liegt es auch in der authentischen 1980er-Jahre Produktion, in der immer wieder so ein Klimpern, ein Schellen durchkommt. Es mag aber auch an den Texten liegen, die etwas von Minnesang haben und in ihrer Klarheit, die aus der Kühle und den Kargheiten (der Vergangenheit, der Gegenwart, der Zukunft) entsteht, doch Wärme transportieren.

Wir hören darin heute, trotz all dem Bewusstsein für die Vergangenheit, den Sound einer seltenen Dichterin der Gegenwart. Das ist von einer Intensität, die einen bald absorbiert. Eisenmund etwa, das Titelstück, ist so ein Song, bei dem man sich hinsetzen oder gleich hinlegen muss. Da sind Dinge, die man nicht ändern kann. Wie geht das? Also: nach vorne, heftig, und dann aber so weich und traurig. Hätten Schimmel über Berlin die 1980er-Jahre dieser Stadt beschallt, sie wären hiermit, das mögen sie selbst vielleicht gar nicht hören, die Helden dieser Zeit gewesen. Eisenmund ist das tollste Album, das mir seit Jahren begegnet ist – und die bisherige Klimax dessen, was aus der Allee der Kosmonauten hervorgeht.

Und wenn man das alles so hört, aufmerksam hört, wird einem, obwohl das alles so ein einziger, riesiger Hit ist, völlig klar: Hier geht es nicht darum, irgendwo damit zu landen, irgendwo mitzumischen, erfolgreich zu sein oder in aller Munde. Hier geht es darum, einfach nur genau das zu machen, was es ist! Alles andere ist egal.

Der Klagegesang wird mich immer umwehen.

– Hendrik Otremba

Sugaring a Strawberry, the sophomore record from Julia, Julia, is a study in coming undone—on purpose. Recorded at COMA, Julia Kugel's home studio, and mixed through a custom Flickenger clone, the album drifts in and out of clarity like memory itself. It's emotionally retrospective, creatively unvarnished, and deeply human. You can hear it in the hiss, the warmth, in the vocals so raw they're like an open window. These songs weren't engineered for perfection. They were built to breathe. Her long-time collaborator and husband, Scott Montoya, mixes it all so loosely that you can hear the air between tracks— a space that makes the music feel inhabited rather than recorded.


"Bound" opens the album like a secret passed between sisters, solemn and unspeakably close. It begins with the softest of touches: hushed guitar, a near- whispered delivery that carries the intimacy of someone singing only for one other person. It's a love song, but not romantic, more ancestral in the way long bonds can be. All glow and undercurrent, "I Know," is like hearing someone hum through a wound. The track arrives as if it had been waiting, coiled and complete, to be sung. Its pulse is slow but insistent, anchored on a hypnotic loop and a vocal that's half-incantation, half-confession. One of the most outward-facing songs on the record, "Feeling Lucky," opens like a cigarette flicked in the dark– smoky and a little bit slick. Built on a skeletal beat and a nearly detached vocal, it leans into a sarcastic swagger that barely masks the ache beneath. The delivery is droll and glazed, the instrumentation is sparse and a little woozy, leaving space for her voice to sway—a shrug of a song, stylish in its sadness. "A Love That Hurts" drifts in on soft, fingerpicked guitar and a dry, close-mic vocal that feels both haunted and immediate. The mix is stripped down and analog-warm, letting tape hum and silence frame the emotion. Julia sings like she's remembering something she doesn't want to, each line a slight unraveling. Like the rest of the album, "A Love That Hurts" doesn't push toward resolution. It sits in the ache, sifts through it, makes it beautiful.

Sugaring a Strawberry doesn't seek catharsis so much as stumbles into it. There's a quiet volatility to these songs like they might fall apart if you press too hard. It moves in shadow and softness, asking questions it doesn't answer. It doesn’t end with closure. It ends with truth.

One Instrument welcomes Morning Seance, composer and sound artist, originally from Italy and based in Vienna. On this debut LP, Morning Seance traces a drifting narrative composed of unstable harmonies, fluid structures, and ghostlike forms. The album unfolds like a dream told in fragments, oscillating between fluctuating pulses and decaying transmissions, from nocturnal stillness to acoustic mirages. The first half of the record moves through zones of suspended tension and evanescent contours, where tracks like “Be faster than your own depression” and “The tenderness of our own autobiography” sketch fragile architectures of affect. The second half enters a more spectral terrain — “Breakfast in a night club,” “A visit to the Brion-Vega tomb” — not places, but agglomerates of sonic sensation, detached from any personal frame.

With each piece, the music dissolves and reconstitutes itself, resisting finality or form, and doing so with an indestructible joy that hums beneath the wreckage. This is degenerate ambient music: anti-geometric and subject to emotional weather — not a refuge, but a slow collapse of structure and purity, where atmosphere gives way to excess and disobedience.

The album is crafted entirely from a single source: the Roland Alpha Juno-1. Despite this constraint, it achieves a vast sound spectrum, transforming one synthesizer’s voice into a layered landscape of textures and moods.

The electronic music of Morning Seance is built on constant variation and intricate, looping patterns with no clear beginning or end. This variation is not simply applied to an audio element, but enacted as a compositional logic — avoiding mechanical combinations and obvious rhythms. The result is a mutable mass of audio matter and tonal debris, guiding the listener through richly divergent environments.

Multi-faceted musician and co-founder of the Hungry Music label, Worakls, has unveiled the full tracklist for his stunning production 'Orchestra', an ambitious project filled with 10 brand-new productions, including recent single 'Cloches.'

Allowing his musical film influences to fully express themselves by incorporating them into his music, 'Orchestra' combines the grandiose feeling of album opener 'Nikki' with the melodic rhythms of 'By The Brook', and wistful yet percussive tones of tracks like 'Detached Motion.' Packed with cinematic elements throughout, Worakls explains his creative process, stating:

'Along the years, I have become more sensible to the emotions of film music, and I wanted to lead my universe into that direction. My aim is to mix in the emotions of this music with the freedom and energy of electronic music.'

With the original music composed to be specifically played with an orchestra, the album is accompanied by a tour of the most prestigious venues in Europe where Worakls will be accompanied by an orchestra formed of 20 musicians. Having recently kickstarted the schedule in Paris, the tour will take in a further 9 sold-out dates across France and Belgium throughout February, March, and April.

Spending the last ten years travelling the globe's most prestigious concert halls and festivals, Worakls' journey into composition started at the age of 3, learning the piano amidst his family of musicians. However, it was the 2015 launch of his 'Hungry Band' group alongside fellow frenchman N'to and Joachim Pastor which earned the French producer widespread acclaim. Proving his skills in composing film scores as well as electronic and orchestral productions, Worakls recently scooped the 'Best Original Soundtrack' prize at the Deauville Green Awards for Ushuaia and InFocus. The accolade was awarded to Worakls for his work on 'Une Oasis d'Espoir' alongside Nicholas Van Ingen & Jean Baptiste-Puchain.

More than a first album, more than a show, 'Orchestra' is the culmination of an inimitable artist whose inspirations touch all generations of music lover. After more than a decade of waiting, 'Orchestra' marks the first solo album from Worakls, and is set for a physical release in Spring 2019.

"Pop" is a tag that's been assigned to Minus The Bear throughout their career. It's been used to set a distinction between the unique brand of complex indie rock they introduced on their first EP and the more angular and aggravated sounds of their previous bands Botch, Kill Sadie, and Sharks Keep Moving. It's also a tag that was thrown around frequently in the wake of their streamlined fourth album, OMNI. And it's a descriptor that immediately comes to mind within the first few seconds of their classic second formal EP, They Make Beer Commercials Like This. Now celebrating its 10-year anniversary and first time in print since 2011, Beer Commercials is the evolutionary step between Minus The Bear's first two landmark albums, Highly Refined Pirates and Menos El Oso. Opening track "Fine + 2 Points" remains one of the band's strongest opening tracks in their discography,charging out of the gates with a syncopated stomp that comes across as a more agitated take on Kylie Minogue's "Can't Get You Outta My Head". If Minus The Bear were looking to make pop music without any of its major-scale bubblegum trappings, they nailed it here. The band follows it with "Let's Play Clowns" and "Dog Park" - nods to Highly Refined Pirates' formula of frenetic clean guitar work, bombastic choruses, and Jake Snider's lyrics of detached romantic nostalgia. These tracks may represent Minus The Bear's original trademark version of pop, but on songs like "I'm Totally Not Down With Rob's Alien" the band eschews it's restless energy for atmosphere and dynamics, creating a sound that's inspired more than a handful of contemporary melodic post-rock bands. By the time the band belts out "Pony Up!" the listener has watched the three-year sonic transition between Minus The Bear's first two full-lengths transpire within under half-an-hour, with the their earlier math rock predilections yielding to the tightly wound club-banging pedalboard trickery that defined their sophomore album. Even if Beer Commercials doesn't fit within your definition of pop music, the unorthodox energetic charm of this relatively low-profile release serves as an exciting reminder of why Minus The Bear became one of the most important and influential indie rock bands of the new century.

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)

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.

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.