quête:disquiet

Dust & Disquiet is the band’s fourth full-length album and the follow up to 2012’s stellar Waking Season. Recorded at Q Division Studios in Somerville, Massachusetts, Caspian once again tapped Matt Bayles (Isis, Cursive, Screaming Females, The Sword) to produce and mix. On Dust & Disquiet, Caspian again refuses to be confined by genre. Listeners will find those familiar intricately textured soundscapes that the band has become known for. Caspian released, Waking Season, in 2012 to critical acclaim, with Spin proclaiming it as the “Best Post Rock Album of 2012.” The band followed with the release of Hymn For the Greatest Generation in the fall of 2013, an EP that was to serve as Caspian’s epilogue to Waking Season. Hymn for the Greatest Generation was also well received, finding praise everywhere from Pitchfork to Nylon to Alternative Press.

Christof Kurzmann: lloopp, vocals
Sofia Jernberg: vocals
Martin Brandlmayr: drums
Joe Williamson: double bass

Disquiet is a special quartet that came together on the stage of the Konfrontationen festival in 2018. Initially formed and lead by Austrian electronic musician Christof Kurzmann, the project is reflecting the difficult political situation of the refugee movements to Europe – and how politicians deal with it in a selfish and unhumanitarian way. Christof Kurzmann, Sofia Jernberg, Martin Brandlmayr (Radian) and Joe Williamson reinterpret and process in quiet waves of emotions and thoughtful lyrics - concentrated music between serenity and sheer beauty, esp when Kurzmann and Jernberg sing a duet with Joe McPhees lyrics.

Extended linernotes by Guy Peters

Still one of the most highly regarded horror films of all time, F.W. Murnau's unauthorised adaptation of Bram Stoker's Dracula, Nosferatu (1922), is an Expressionist masterpiece of the silent era. Much of the original score by Hans Erdmann (meant to be played live by an orchestra) was lost, leading Nosferatu to inspire several subsequent soundtracks, the best known of which is by Hammer Horror composer James Bernard, written for the Tanis Film video reissue of the film in 1997.
The world premiere of the score was performed by Nic Raine and the City of Prague Philharmonic Orchestra at the London Film Festival the same year and now, almost twenty years later, the score is being pressed on vinyl for the first time.

It has been exactly ten years since Finders Keepers Records rst liberated Luboš Fišer's immaculate soundtrack music for Valerie And Her Week Of Wonders (Valerie A Týden Divu) from the vaults of the Barrandov Studio in Prague. As the inaugural release of an ongoing discography of previously unreleased scores from the hugely creative 'Film Miracle' that occurred during and after the Czech New Wave (CNW), this score will always retain a special place in the heart of the label as well as our listeners who consistently request an updated repress of this signi cant vinyl milestone. Having grown in status from an obscure and misunderstood socialist-era art house oddity, via the hands of risqué foreign uff merchants, to nally nd its rightful audience as a bona de surrealist cinematic masterpiece of world class standards, this 1970 lm adaptation of Vítezslav Nezval's 1935 avant-garde novella (a lm that literally cross-pollinated Max Ernst's A Week Of Kindness and Lewis Carols Alice In Wonderland) has garnered widespread critical acclaim. Inspiring ongoing generations of visual artists, musicians, writers and lmmakers - all of whom regard this truly individualistic and inimitable surrealist lm poem to be an indelible in uence - Valerie continues to impregnate their daily artistic referential fabric.

It has been exactly ten years since Finders Keepers Records rst liberated Luboš Fišer's immaculate soundtrack music for Valerie And Her Week Of Wonders (Valerie A Týden Divu) from the vaults of the Barrandov Studio in Prague. As the inaugural release of an ongoing discography of previously unreleased scores from the hugely creative 'Film Miracle' that occurred during and after the Czech New Wave (CNW), this score will always retain a special place in the heart of the label as well as our listeners who consistently request an updated repress of this signi cant vinyl milestone. Having grown in status from an obscure and misunderstood socialist-era art house oddity, via the hands of risqué foreign uff merchants, to nally nd its rightful audience as a bona de surrealist cinematic masterpiece of world class standards, this 1970 lm adaptation of Vítezslav Nezval's 1935 avant-garde novella (a lm that literally cross-pollinated Max Ernst's A Week Of Kindness and Lewis Carols Alice In Wonderland) has garnered widespread critical acclaim. Inspiring ongoing generations of visual artists, musicians, writers and lmmakers - all of whom regard this truly individualistic and inimitable surrealist lm poem to be an indelible in uence - Valerie continues to impregnate their daily artistic referential fabric.

Following his collaborative EP with Om Unit, titled Pressure 3D, the Italian born, London-based producer Dario Picchi, aka Soreab, presents his new album CU, which compresses techno, grime, dub and industrial into compellingly taut, musculoskeletal forms.

Short for Completely Unstable, but also pronounced See You – suggesting an acknowledgement and also a farewell, the album is characterised by pressurised jettison, where personal disquiet fuelled compelling results. With its track titles reading like a process, the record could be viewed a set of exercises from a mental health toolkit, or a series of diagrams for the liberation of wellbeing.

Bursting forward with momentum like the uncoiling of a tightly wound spring, CU’s unleashed energy is captivating across 10 combinations of texture, tension and torque; each of which was recorded in just four takes, allowing unfiltered impulses to resonate with honesty.

Like Radical Minimalism for sound systems, discarding stress by cathartic decluttering, and stripping elements to their rawest forms, CU shows that that instability, when harnessed, can yield something elemental, and essential.

WVLT is the newest sonic addition from WNDFRM (Portland-based, Tim Westcott), an album of eight distinct explorations exploring the many facets of experimental IDM.

Tim Westcott’s practice is rooted in an acute, nearly forensic attention to sound. Subtle tones, sculpted drones, and lean percussive gestures, always pursued with a patient ear and obsession with sound design. 

With previous releases on Prologue, Home Normal, and Dragon’s Eye Recordings, and several live performances at Mutek, a new album from Tim is a rare yet welcome occurrence. The conceptual approach for WVLT began in 2021, mixing synths with drum machines and granular processing. Lightly arced structures slip between gates of rhythm, shifting pulses, translucent washes, and disquieting residue. There’s a precision to the hesitation and an insistence in the space between notes, a deft balance of raw improvisation and sculpted quietude.

An exercise in immediacy and response, each track builds and unspools, like form in fleeting motion, driven by the moment’s tonal contrasts, micro‑rhythmic interplay, and slight gestures that alter entire planes of listening. It’s minimal without sparsity, intense without density.

Hungarian producer Dave Wincent & German-Filipino producer Wigbert collaborate on a new four tracker ‘Collab’ on DCLTD. The EP marks their debut body of work together.

Collab02: minimal, no-frills techno, an unrelenting wall of percussion with subtle changes of note patterns embedded within. Hissy hoover swooshing sounds like waves of static or desert winds add intrigue to an austere soundscape.

Echo Chamber: fast, resonant drums, with a tapping hi-hat crescendo bringing in machine-like rhythmic industrial sounds… disquieting yet high energy.

Fly Back And Forth: Muffled beats a Moroder-like throbbing synth effect from the start, hypnotic and yet energetic. Sustained, pulsing high synth chords add emotional heft.

Resonant Control: a complex wave of percussion which keeps on coming, with a high chiming strand which broadens tone and becomes dominant, spiked with bleeps like mysterious radio signals from space.

Fierce and forlorn, Swarm Intelligence’s “The Shattered Self” delves into the complexities of human existence in an era dominated by technological advancements. In this thought-provoking exploration, the artist challenges listeners to confront the consequences of a near future where physical and mental augmentation are commonplace. In a world where limbs can be upgraded, where consciousness can be uploaded, where memories can be digitally archived and shared on social media, where our AI clones can liberate us from menial tasks… What remains of our selves? Who is our self?

Swarm Intelligence draws influences from black metal, industrial-tinged dub and post rock, splicing these with his distinctive take on techno to devastating effect. "Dejected," the inaugural track, unleashes grinding walls of feedback against a relentless broken beat, its foreboding atmosphere heightened by a menacing low growl of distorted bass that permeates the unease. It's a disquieting overture that sets the stage for the tumultuous journey ahead.

The second track, “Eros” envelops the listener in a visceral soundscape, where haunting atmospheres intertwine with grinding feedback and pounding percussion. Initially tense, the track evolves into an unexpected and almost euphoric climax, adding an unforeseen emotional depth to the sonic narrative. Yet, beneath the surface, an undercurrent of tension remains—an ever-present reminder of the fragility of our self.

On the flip side, "Inciter" channels inner fury through a guttural chant punctuating a Birmingham-styled broken beat, marching forth with unyielding force.

Finally, "Portal" offers a moment of quiet introspection, as haunting pads echo a mournful refrain while micro recordings of whirring machinery are assembled into the percussion section. It serves as a poignant curtain-closer.

Through "The Shattered Self," Swarm Intelligence challenges listeners to reconsider their perceptions of identity, consciousness, and agency in an age where the machine and the human converge. It's a haunting and profound journey—one that invites introspection and contemplation long after the final reverb tails fade into silence.

"DUBTERNAL" is an ode to the healing power of instruments.
An ode to human touch in an ever-increasing artificial world.
An ode to that young punk with a guitar on his back, heading to rehearsal space, reminding him that it's always worth pursuing creativity in all forms and shapes."
Egoless 2024

XKatedral Anthology I is the first in a series of archival releases dedicated to presenting music by XKatedral affiliated composers working within the realm of slowly evolving harmonic and timbral music. This double-vinyl set contains an array of pieces dating from 2010 - 2020. Four of the works included here were originally released on cassette tape early on in the label's history, while the two remaining pieces are presented by the label for the first time.

"The works Ir Himinn, Grooenn by Kristoffer Svensson, Disquiet (Heart) by Marta Forsberg and Lamé by Isak Edberg were first released on the compilation XKatedral Volume II in 2016. Svenssons piece from 2014 combines justly tuned gamelan percussion and prepared piano intricately interwoven in a way that obscures the boundaries between the two instrument groups. Forsberg and Edbergs pieces both use a monolithic form to explore the timbral and harmonic spaces provided by the Düben Baroque organ situated in Tyska Kyrkan in the oldest part of Stockholm. While similar in terms of instrumentation the two works differ formally - Edbergs Lamé composed in 2010 uses the registers of the organ to articulate a seamless spectral transformation while Forsbergs Disquiet (Heart) from 2014 deals in blocks of sound with a varying degree of opacity, saturation and intensity.

Glory for two electric guitars by Caterina Barbieri and Kali Malone was composed and recorded in Tempo Reale in Florence, Italy, and was originally released on the cassette compilation XKatedral Volume III in 2016. This music takes the form of an ever-evolving hypnotic pattern shared by the two instruments articulated through an additive and subtractive canon. Dissolving Ceremony, composed in 2012 by Edberg/Erlandsson/Lisinski, was first presented publicly on the self-released record Stratum. The music contained in that release was formed from a collection of gamelan percussion instruments augmented by two sets of live-electronic instruments tuned to the harmonic framework formed by the partials of the metal percussion. Originally positioned in the center of the record running order between two long monolithic process-based pieces, Dissolving Ceremony now stands on its own as a memory of a time and methodology from the not so distant past.

The newest piece in this set is Shipwrecks by Daniel M Karlsson. While this work is a recent one Karlsson should be considered one of the forerunners of the musical expression contained within this record set. Active within new music for two decades his strongly articulated musical ideas and constantly evolving craftsmanship has resulted in an enormous body of work, and has served as an inspiration for many of his fellow composers. This piece is a celebration of transposition and its immense capacity for timbral transformation using a vast array of instruments performed, recorded and electronically treated by the composer to form a liquid uncanny topography where a deeply personal harmonic language constantly shifts, slides and shivers."

Whilst remaining leftfield in spirit, there is a musical vulnerability to the latest iteration of Legss, and a newfound pop sensibility to their writing, which reflects a move to a more accessible sound. There is a security in inaccessibility, and shedding this cloak opens the band up to an earnestness at once exciting and nerve-wracking. Twinned with their signature world-building aesthetic, the new direction is reflected sonically by drummer Louis Grace, who co-produced the album with Balazs Altsach (Ugly, Katy J Pearson, Broadside Hacks) - set to be distributed by The state51 Conspiracy.

On the announcement of their debut album, Unreal, the band say:
“Unreal feels like the work of a lifetime. We can’t believe we’re still here to see it through, but we are and we couldn’t be prouder. The album is about miscommunication and feelings of unreality/the uncanny in everyday life; the tragic and the comic.”

ABOUT LEGSS
Merging intricate guitars, disquieting monologues and a rhythm section both technical and unruly, London’s Legss create a wholly unique sound.
After meeting and forming in London, Legss released their experimental, darkly satirical debut EP Writhing Comedy in 2019, which received heavy airplay on BBC 6 Music. A year later the band’s much-anticipated, genre-bending sophomore EP Doomswayers was released in the shadow of the pandemic, championed by BBC Radio 1’s Jack Saunders and BBC 6 Music’s Steve Lamacq.

After the release of their single ‘Hollywood’, Legss signed to The state51 Conspiracy and released their third EP Fester in 2023, recorded at The Church, which saw critical acclaim from the likes of the Sunday Times, Quietus, Independent, Line of Best Fit, So Young Magazine, DORK, L&Q, and DIY.

In 2024 the band were included by Simon Reynolds in the afterword to a republished edition of Mark Fisher’s seminal Ghosts of My Life (Zero Books).

Legss are Louis Grace (drums, synth), Ned Green (vocals, guitar), Jake Martin (bass) and Max Oliver (guitar)

Jaime Fennelly, as Mind Over Mirrors, makes music that pushes the known to the lip of the unknown, where it rocks precariously and in exhilaration. He scrambles the familiar and tweaks the comfortable, not through aggression, but a throbbing estrangement. When placed at a distance, these require longer reaches to grasp. The reward for this effort is an enlarged field of perspective, experience, and also of feeling. This is deeply feeling music to feel deeply.

In all of Jaime’s records—and, arguably, especially in Particles, Peds, & Pores—there’s a seed of the pastoral, some ancient shepherd’s song ringing through nearby hills and groves, but one also yearning to plumb the uncanny and the creative possibilities of disintegration. “Farewell to woods,” the grieving Damon sings in Virgil’s eighth Eclogue. “Let all be ocean now.” Fennelly sounds vast, enveloping wildernesses and the thrilling disquiet of their echoless grandeur. (Maybe Burroughs speaks to the borders of these zones: “Pulsing mineral silence as word dust falls from demagnetized patterns.”) There’s something of the heroic at work here, too, although the hero’s instinct has been suitably tempered—or awed—to know not to fly too close to the sun.

Alvorada is Montanha’s first long play: an ambient-leaning work, nocturnal in mood yet touched by electricity, tracing a journey from waking activity into dream logic. Recorded mostly in the late hours of the evening with windows open to the city, letting its air and sounds influence the music, it sometimes reached the early moments of sunrise. The title, meaning “dawn,” reflects both the liminal hours of its making and the band’s own renewal. These tracks are closer to drawings than songs: narratives written between instruments, moments of tension and release, fragments of memory and dream. The tracklist follows this nocturnal voyage with the patience of Eno, the disquiet of Uematsu, and the madness of Miles Davis’ Decoy, oscillating between streets and sleep, routine and reverie.

Montanha was formed in 2010 by André Azevedo, Nuno Oliveira, João Sarnadas, and Tito Silva, bonding over architecture school all-nighters on videogame soundtracks (Age of Empires, Super Mario). They began as a psychedelic rock combo and in 2013 released their self-titled EP which introduced a raw, improvised energy. But the album that was meant to follow was abandoned as the band entered hiatus. The four members turned their creative drive towards co-founding Favela Discos, where experimentation with media and form reshaped their ideas of music, and developed their taste, their way of playing, and a more personal sound that was more open and disconnected from a defined genre.

By 2017, Montanha had returned to the studio with new experience, no longer a rock band in the traditional sense but a project devoted to improvisation and electronic soundscapes. An ever gentrifying city forced them to abandon acoustic drums, and they embraced electronic beats instead, and became mobile; one guitar dissolved into full synths, leaving the other to converse with bass. Improvisation remained their compass. In improvisation there are no mistakes, only missed opportunities. Montanha found their opportunity in the routine of the studio to break routines of pop and experimental. The result is a body of nearly fifty hours of recordings, sculpted into an album.

Alvorada is not only Montanha’s first LP but also the dawn of their new phase. Improvised yet carefully sculpted, the record expands the territory of the song into nonlinear narratives, letting the language of night, dream, and city seep into its form.

London-based experimentalist Luke Younger (a.k.a HELM) returns to PAN with ‘Olympic Mess’.
Where his previous effort, 2014’s ‘The Hollow Organ,’ dealt in dense, distressed sonics, ‘Olympic Mess’ is Younger responding to a period spent engaged with loop-based industrial music, dub techno, and balearic disco. These musical references, all of which can induce hypnotic states and feelings of euphoria, inform ten evocative aural landscapes which unfurl over the course of an hour and act almost as a counterpoint to the turmoil that spawned them.
Crafted using an array of heavily processed samples, found sound and electroacoustics, personal conflict manifests in “I Exist In A Fog” and “Outerzone 2015,” where visceral noise disintegrates into veiled, ambient strata. The disquieting crescendos of “The Evening In Reverse” and “Fluid Cloak” offer no such relief, while the title track and “Don’t Lick The Jacket” are mineral, multilayered abstractions twisting around a brittle pulse.

Lénok’s 'Langue of Tongue' is a descent. An unhinged pinballing down a realm of incomprehension and lunacy, a darkly psychedelic ego-death-spiral into a world of pure, deranged disquiet. It is, and this cannot be emphasised enough, a truly fucked up place. It comes complete with clearly marked borders delineated by its opening and closing tracks '(Entrance' and 'Exit)’. The message is clear: this is less album than zone.

There's no comfort to be found here. It’s like the inner monologue of some insectile, cyborgian abomination, something unfeeling and hostile, something that could only thrive in a mirror world that perverts light and sullies warmth. It's a netherworld: tracks jut out and stab like cold, craggy wastelandscapes, tangled meshworks of alienic transmissions bleed out into deformed knots of gurgling white noise, lacerations of sound roil and heave and claw as if imprisoned within oppressive waveforms.

‘Tongue’ is marked by a kind of wackiness, a demented slapstick that renders its darkness all the more sinister. Voices wail and taunt like schizophrenic spirits trapped between torment and cackling ecstasy. Tracks giggle and skitter as if populated by grinning, snaggletoothed shadows.

‘Langue of Tongue’ is recommended for the curious and advanced listener. This is music for whatever the opposite of escapism is — it’s REAL twisted. But sometimes morbid fascination takes hold. Sometimes you lift the rock, because you can’t help it, and you observe the squirming mess of life it plays host to. What you experience may not be pleasant, but you might just struggle to tear yourself away.

A decade after its release, A Fragile Geography returns transformed. This limited edition cassette accompanies the AFG10 anniversary reissue, offering an inspired re-envisioning of Rafael Anton Irisarri’s landmark compositions. Reworks presents distinctive readings of these pieces, with each artist leaving their personal mark on the material. The titles remain unchanged, with the sole exception of “Hiatus,” reborn here as “Ausencia.” Together, these reimaginings extend the emotional cartography of the album into new terrains.

KMRU reframes “Displacement” with expansive, glimmering layers that open into meditative ambient landscapes. Nairobi born and Berlin based, he is known for morphing field recordings into vivid aural experiences, often capturing the texture of footsteps, foliage, and distant city life and weaving them into contemplative soundscapes. In this version he introduces subtle new sounds, including stringlike synths that trace and heighten the piece’s emotional arc. The result invites close listening, offering enveloping tones where the organic and the synthetic gently collide and flow.

Penelope Trappes renders “Reprisal” as a voice-led invocation of the delicate and the intimate. Her wistful vocals bloom with fragile sorrow, rising over shimmering strands of strings to create a sound world at once sacred and shadowed. She is adept at channeling inherited grief into music that is transcendent and otherworldly. The interplay of her voice, the strings, and her use of space and depth draws those qualities into Irisarri’s orbit, imbuing “Reprisal” with the same spiritual weight and clarity that define her most powerful work.

Kevin Richard Martin (a.k.a. The Bug) transforms “Empire Systems” into a cavernous “Iced Mix,” driven by polyrhythmic double bass motifs and sculpted from subterranean pressure and negative space. Known for pushing sound to its physical limits, Martin brings the stark intensity of his dub and noise infused practice into Irisarri’s architecture. The track seethes with harmonic distortion and erupts in white noise rhythms, its brooding low end depth and icy reverberant textures amplifying the tension. Vulnerability and force are set in stark relief, as silences feel as heavy as the bursts of sound themselves. The result is a stark study in atmosphere, restraint and impact, reframed through Martin’s singular lens of sonic mass and low end intensity.

On Side B, Mabe Fratti opens with a cinematic, dreamlike, Lynchian reimagining of “Hiatus” in her native Spanish (“Ausencia”). She threads cello and voice so wondrously that her rendering feels at once hauntingly beautiful and disquieting. Emotionally charged melodies shift in unexpected directions, while her soft, intimate vocals hover above Irisarri’s brooding synth textures. Fratti’s gift for blending experimental and avant pop sensibilities with visceral, emotionally powerful expression shines resplendently here. She gives voice to Irisarri’s reflections on the passage of time and his growing desire to reconnect with his familial roots.

Abul Mogard stretches “Persistence” into a vast drone elegy. A master of patient sound sculpting, Mogard layers evolving waves of analog synths into a dense shroud that radiates its own internal light. Gradual surges of tone and subtle harmonic shifts emphasize the piece’s endurance and inevitability. Irisarri’s original composition, in Mogard's hands, becomes a rumination on time’s unrelenting flow. Melancholy and transcendence coexist in equal measure in this engulfing, cathartic rework.

William Basinski and Gary Thomas Wright close the cycle with a spectral version of “Secretly Wishing for Rain.” Basinski’s field recordings of Reseda rainfall and birdsong, which open and close the rework, add a personal touch and evoke the imagined sound of a grainy film reel flickering to life. The piece suspends Irisarri’s yearning for the Pacific Northwest, lodging it hazily between memory, place and an unreachable dream. It feels like a fading recollection, half forgotten and half felt. A final gesture that dissolves the album into vapor, leaving the listener adrift in its lingering afterglow.

Mastered with great care by Stephan Mathieu and featuring a remixed version of the original artwork by Daniel Castrejón, this edition refracts the language of the original through new prisms. Less a return than a passage, across time, across interpretation, into uncharted emotional realms.

A hill repeating its own name.

Ben Beinn — mountain mountain — an imagined summit, recursive and unstable.

Poole’s new album Ben Beinn follows 2024’s In a River Shadow, and deepens his exploration of environment, voice, and abstraction. If the previous record moved with flowing water and submerged hymns, Ben Beinn climbs into elemental instability: passing storms, coded skies, and sodden ground.

Across ten tracks, Poole entangles the Celtic New Age sound world — traditional instrumentation (flute, low whistle, bagpipe, piano, strings) — with synthesis, environmental recordings, and abstracted voice. The sound palette is tactile — marked by microtonal harmony, swelling dissonance, and a breathy naïvety. Voices in Gaelic, Norwegian, and English surface and dissolve, stretched beyond recognition — more weather than word.

The album’s title refers to a tautological hill — Ben Beinn, or “mountain mountain” — a recursive site where motifs surface, fracture, and re-emerge. On 365 Days of Rain, rainfall data becomes a rhythmic lattice that slips from metrical order. 1000 opens the record in cinematic emergence: mountain icicles and frozen streams swell into strings and breathy melodic weight. Pulling from the connective folktales of hill and mountain trolls — “Dance for a thousand years,” Poole writes, “for jeg har sovet tidlig så lenge.”

Recorded in Scotland between 2024–2025, Ben Beinn draws from environmental recordings of frozen hill passes, storm drains, and peat bogs using contact mics and hydrophones. Rather than simply reflecting place, these recordings press against it — layering the sonic materiality of landscape with synthesis and song. An inflection point between fabrication — folk music as performed identity, a carrier of story — and its obfuscation through digital networks, where tradition is refracted into plural forms.

Musical reference points include the emotionally saturated textures of Inoyama Land, the folk-electronic hybrids of Eli Storbekken, the hyperrealist collage practices of Noah Creshevsky, and the disquieting sonic simulations of James Ferraro. While Ferraro captures the uncanny surfaces of networked life, Ben Beinn turns inward — toward a located listening, shaped by weather, memory, and terrain.

The second in a triptych that began with In a River Shadow, Ben Beinn continues Poole’s excavation of environmental and folk material through contemporary methods. If the first record submerged itself in flowing water and submerged hymns, this one is shaped by the slow pressures of land and sky — a music of erosion, recurrence, and elemental presence.

Vom Beginn des Album-Openers „Obsidian Mirror“ an ist die Atmosphäre beklemmend, dicht mit einem erstickenden Unbehagen. Man hat das Gefühl, dass etwas Zeremonielles am Werk ist, aber nicht in einer Weise, die nach Gemeinschaft strebt. Vielmehr ist es eine Tortur als Sakrament. Riffs würgen und wälzen sich in krampfhafter Unterwerfung, oszillieren zwischen langsamer Agonie und psychotischem Ausbruch, über dem ein gutturales Lamento, das so brutal ist, dass es das Blut gefrieren lässt, durch Kerkerstein gerissen wird. Jeder Track entfaltet sich wie eine Zeit, die man in der Isolation verbracht hat, gefesselt durch Ketten, den Geist langsam enträtselnd und umgeben von Erinnerungen an reale und imaginäre Qualen.

Wenn sich das epische, 14-minütige Schlussstück „Disquiet“ in einer Masse formlosen Rauschens auflöst, haben Ritual Mass den Hörer in eine Welt gezogen, in der das Leiden kein Ende, sondern eine Bedingung der Existenz ist. Cascading Misery" ist Musik für die Auflösung der Hoffnung, den Schrecken des Seins und den langen Marsch auf den Tod.

- Debüt-Album nach mehreren EP-Veröffentlichungen
- Aufgenommen, gemischt und gemastert von Greg Wilkinson / Earhammer Studios (Ulthar, Autopsy, Undergoing)
- Erste 20BS-Band aus Pittsburgh (Labelsitz)
- FFO: Vastum, Krypts, Phrenelith, Master, Incantation, Abhorrence, Funebrarum, Disembowelment

Legendary postmodern, post punk, post human, past caring collective Mekons return with a brand-new album for 2025. Their first release on Fire Records, ‘Horror’ a collection of songs written in late 2022 but providing a horribly prescient reflection of the world in its current miasma and how we got here. ‘Horror’ looks at history and the legacies of British imperialism with mashed up lyrics set against a typically eclectic sound that amalgamates everything from dub, country, noise, rock & roll, electronica, punk, music hall, polka and you can even take your partner for a nice waltz on ‘Sad And Sad And Sad’. The roots of their global sound reflect their nomadic journey through time and space from Leeds to California in the West and Siberia in the East and is woven into the fabric and intricacies of their song creation… Sounding like The Chills and R.E.M circa the I.R.S Records years, ‘Mudcrawlers’ sees just about the whole band joining Jon Langford on vocals speaking of Irish famine and refugees journeying to Wales. ‘War Economy’ shivers in the cold of such Boroughs spiked one-liners: “Clinical coercion will not achieve dominance!” Sounding like its straight off a Jenny Holzer neon sign (she of Abuse Of Power Comes As No Surprise), it’s held together by a disgruntled swaggering riff that underpins an explosion of disquiet. Meanwhile, Rico takes the lead on the maliciously luscious ‘Fallen Leaves’ an appalled and appalling Hammer Horror take on climate breakdown reminiscent of Rolling Thunder Dylan, that recalls The Pogues at their most introspective, its Celtic twilightism augmented by Susie Honeyman’s keening violin as the dying sun sinks down and the river Styx flows on in the pitch black night. Almost 50 years in the making, these Mekons continue to astound, their sound, sentiment and method of delivery blended to perfection by bass player and studio wizard, Dave Trumfio. The Mekons are Jon Langford, Sally Timms, Tom Greenhalgh, Dave Trumfio, Susie Honeyman, Rico Bell, Steve Goulding, and Lu Edmonds. "Effortlessly eloquent post-punks" Pitchfork // “The Mekons are still vital” Rolling Stone // “The most revolutionary group in the history of rock ‘n’ roll,” Lester Bangs // UK Tour 8-15 May 2025 (including London, Manchester, Glasgow, and more).

LP comes with 24 page 8.5x11 full color booklet. In the blurred and memorial hallways of bygone time, to remember is to wander between the rooms of our own experiences, to appear and disappear, like a play of overlapping shadows. In music set drifting through the architecture of his own memories, Moses Brown weaves a story that oscillates between the past and the present, like a mason turning over stones to reconstruct his childhood home in this beautiful and disquieting soundtrack to growing up. On Stone Upon Stone, Moses' first solo LP attributed to his given name after several releases under the brilliant and despondent "Peace de Resistance" moniker, he moves sidelong into the realm of soundtracks with this score to the construction of his childhood home in a story spanning 1993-2023. Laid out in lush and provocative minimalist instrumentals, the album unfolds a story about the planning, partial construction, and dissolution of a home in constant state of becoming through the lens of its only child, coming of age under flux. Influenced by the approach of friends and collaborators Straw Man Army's OST to Charles Darwin's Voyage of the Beagle, Stone Upon Stone was originally intended as a soundtrack to a novel of the same name by Wieslaw Mysliwski, an epic set in Poland about a family's construction of a mausoleum. Struck by the story's parallels with his own family's project, he got the idea to complete the work as a personal narrative. Created from layers of different mellotron voices then separated, re-amplified, and recorded as if they were a sitting chamber orchestra, the music eerily blurs the line between human and synthetic, giving way to something akin to a memory with it's blurriness of fact and fiction. In the same spirit of association, this record is certainly influenced by other minimalists working within the confines of "soundtrack", like Philip Glass' North Star and the film work of Michael Nyman. But Brown's soundtrack works within its own peculiar depth of field, living in the listener's imagination, thriving in its own sense of loneliness, aspiration, and confusion that only childhood can evoke. Listeners will feel the entropy of aging in Stone Upon Stone, like a memoir in cascading tones, that sets it apart from so much else in DIY music, and rewards with repeated listens. For Fans of Philip Glass, Kali Malone, Julius Eastman, Mica Levi, Roedelius.

New pressing for this album, in translucent highlighter yellow. Inspired by minimal pop and the pioneers of electronic music, LES MANIÈRES DE TABLE, Annie-Claude Deschênes’ first solo album, is as danceable and melodic as it is disquieting and dystopian, proposing to set the table differently by deconstructing the social codes of politeness imposed on us. Conceived during the lockdown to overcome the surrounding inactivity, the songs that make up LES MANIÈRES DE TABLE were not intended to be released. It was by familiarizing herself with new technologies (drum machines, sequencers) that the conceptual and aesthetic ideas that define the album began to develop organically. Through producing beats composed from samples of utensils, table etiquette became a source of inspiration, a form of conformity that she enjoyed deconstructing. At the same time, a fascination for surveillance cameras and other futuristic-looking, but already obsolete technologies became part of her visual universe. Her experiments gradually evolved into a full-fledged project reminiscent of the works of the pioneers of electronic music. The album is inspired by Steve Reich’s minimalism, Kraftwerk’s synthetic textures, Herbie Hancock’s stylistic diversity and experimental cinema’s non-traditional approach to narration.

The Ottawa composer/performer and head of Black Bough Records plays every instrument on his CST debut: an accessibly avant-garde work of dark/ambient modern chamber music. Mark Molnar has been a linchpin of the Ottawa experimental music scene for over two decades, spanning contemporary classical, electroacoustic, industrial/noise, and improv. As a string player in a wide range of projects, an organizer and curator of innumerable shows, and via his own avantgarde label Black Bough Records, Molnar's unflagging contributions to independent music culture in Canada's capital city have been significant. EXO is his Constellation debut: a remarkable and bracing suite of post-classical composition on which Molnar plays every instrument. Meticulously self-recorded, primarily with strings, harp, and piano, EXO balances thematic melodicism, polytonality, and dissonance across three elegiac pieces of exquisitely expressive dynamism. This is exacting modern chamber music that blends formal and harmonic complexity with a solemn emotive sensibility accessible to a broad audience. Listeners that yearn for some edge and disquietude in a landscape of often all-too-approachable post-classical music should find EXO eminently worth their time and attention. While Molnar is a highly trained string player, and studied music under Aubrey Wolfe, microtonality with James Tenney, and composition with R. Murray Schafer, his trajectory has been entirely and intentionally outside the academy, signalling a socio-artistic commitment to DIY culture, forged from an early passion for the sonic worlds of post-hardcore, post-punk, no-wave, free improv, power electronics, and other independent/underground musics. His classically-informed works have been described as "tense currents of musical modernism invigorated with punk's raw vitality." EXO carries an undercurrent influenced by dark industrial and ambient metal in particular, with microphones purposely placed to pick up the low-end frequencies of the piano body, and of a bass drum positioned as a resonant skin in the acoustic space; an electroacoustic strategy organically meshed to the crisply defined and pristinely recorded pointillisms and polychords of strings, harp, and piano, which feed into this noisefloor of crepuscular sub-bass disquietude and decay. It's a production aesthetic that lends EXO a distinct undertow of tension and feeling, a sort of roiling maximalism where the chamber instrumentation traces arcs and waves of form and flow as if drawn from a dark, impervious ocean below. It also reinforces the profound hermeticism of Molnar's process, as a forbiddingly solitary creative act of immersion and navigation. The album artwork, featuring semiabstract stills of the sea by British photographer Ed Allen, further reifies this metaphor. The album's opening piece 'Sub Luna' (and its shortest at 8 minutes) showcases Molnar's adeptness at naturalistic and flowing complexity: tight cascades of climbing and descending chordal clusters hold their polytonal densities for various durations, yielding to more clarified harmonic suspensions and motifs, as melodic themes led primarily by violins in the higher registers provide a fractured lyricism. Molnar says: "the opening and closing figures of this piece act as opposing shorelines; the shorelines provide a reliable expression of range and key signature, and the tides come in and swallow them up, the motion of a body that addresses the relationship between states of lucidity and melodic figures." On 'Terre Sacer' everything happens in soupier waters, as a slow and doleful theme, anchored by grinding bass notes, circles in a gyre of dark resonances, until glistening strings gradually ascend to enrobe a plaintive and gently harrowing single-voiced ostinato over the composition's final third. Molnar's drone, ambient, minimalist, and goth-industrial influences are on display here. Side Two of EXO features the 18-minute multi-movement 'pallida Mors' (pale death): a waterfall of heterophony introduces dense chordal movements where strings are recorded and mixed to evoke pipe organ, in the album's most overtly dissonant and (anti)liturgical sequence. This gives way to ever more open and fragile spaces, before a resurgence of dark clusters and noise treatments introduces a final repeating piano coda, shrouded in devastated bass resonance, settling into what Molnar calls "a meditative hollow." Constellation is honoured to release this work by Mark Molnar, a longtime fellow-traveler whose selfless and boundlessly generous activities as an independent arts enabler sometimes obscure his own accomplished and uncompromising artistry. We trust EXO can help shed some much deserved light on this fine composer. Thanks for listening.

Corrosiv, the sophomore album from Orchestroll, reveals the duo at their most mature and vulnerable. Originally conceived as a reflection on hybridity and bastardization, the album deploys New Age and ambient compositional tropes as a launchpad, exposing their trite sanctity to the realities of corrosion. Having come of age in the 1970s and 1980s, the New Age movement perdures today as a domain of contradictions; its promise of transcendence riddled with the very commercialized dogma from which its adherents claim to flee. Healing modalities such as reiki, crystal therapy, and sound baths are simultaneously pathways to solace and sites of exploitation; their sonic counterparts—ethereal synth pads, shimmering textures, celestial drones—claim to facilitate meditation and enlightenment while devolving into empty signifiers of vitality. With Corrosiv, Orchestroll displays neither reverence nor disdain toward New Age: they exhume it instead, revealing the saccharine effervescence and commodified murk undergirding its aesthetics. The result is intoxicating—disquieting.

Born from a two-week residency at EMS Studios and expanded through a performance at MUTEK Montreal’s 25th anniversary, Corrosiv has since outgrown its original conceptual nucleus, taking on a broader scope. Its inquiry into New Age ideology’s voided rhetoric and aesthetic mysticism now informs a broader interrogation of cultural mediocrity, anti-authoritarianism, gatekeeping, music industry toxicity, and the crumbling edifice of late capitalism and techno-feudalism—all the mechanisms by which meaning is stripped from ceremony, and once-potent forms of knowledge are subsumed into the machinery of economic extraction, severed from their original essence, and transformed into hollow simulacra. Corrosiv distills these themes through a loose narrative: a soul, fixated on wellness as dictated by cosmetic economism, becomes ensnared in an endless afterlife, unable to transcend and shed its dilapidated consciousness.

Framed as an act of audio dissolution, the album thus engages in an alchemical process, whereby complex waveshaping, morphing synthesis, and distortion enact a ritual of fragmentation. There is also friction: between the rigid, mechanical imposition of systematized order and the untamed, chaotic force of organic metamorphosis. Here corrosion and confinement are not solely conceptual motifs; they are enacted in real time, sculpting the album’s terrain. Scraping, tarnishing, degradation—the languid wear of form and substance—become instruments in their own right: buffing as abrasion, entrapment as transformation, corrosion as a means of reconfiguration. The ‘protagonist,’ if there must be one, is the listener, caught within the throes of structural determinism and the potential for emancipation, unable to pass into something greater as the specters of collapsed futures accumulate in the margins.

Corrosiv extends its reach through collaborations with familiar voices: Heith (PAN), VISIO (Haunter), Femminielli (Drowned by Locals), Habib Bardi (Interzone), and Jiyoung Wi (Enmossed, Psychic Liberation, Doyenne) each leave their imprint on its sprawling landscape. At 1h16m, it is a procession, dense with earworms that burrow into the listener’s unconscious.

Misshapen, broken-down metals leach copper into blood, acid reflux burning through the core. Psyche disaggregates into cosmic turmoil, drifting between planes—tongue on rustline, gullet laced with solvent hymns, molars unlatching, bitcrushed to marrowspill. A spasm of brine, ferrous scripture, venomtext blooming in leaden rivulets, cartilage smoldering in phosphor decomposition, synapses drowning in a quicksilver choir. Crest of bile, churning ore, breath clotting into arsenic mist, vein-thread cinched, a corrosive gospel, limb by limb, oxidized to silence.

Ultimately, as the music exhales its final breath, its residue refuses to dissipate—and stillness alone remains. There are no conclusions here—no resolution, no collapse—only the slow drift outward of a vessel unmoored, lost in the sea of symbolic souring. Corrosiv sings the song of a world barren of prophecy, littered with aesthetic detritus. Whether this magic has been transfigured or simply worn away is unclear: the last breath dissipates, but the oxidation does not stop. The silence, too, will decay.

Conceptualized, composed, performed, recorded, mixed, engineered and produced by Jesse Osborne-Lanthier, and Asaël Richard-Robitaille in 2023 and 2024 at Elektron Musik Studion (EMS) - Stockholm, Sweden and Landsc8pe Studio - Montréal, QC, Canada.
Artwork by Jesse Osborne-Lanthier.
Mastered by Stephan Mathieu @ Schwebung Mastering.

Legendary postmodern, post punk, post human, past caring collective Mekons return with a brand-new album for 2025. Their first release on Fire Records, ‘Horror’ a collection of songs written in late 2022 but providing a horribly prescient reflection of the world in its current miasma and how we got here. ‘Horror’ looks at history and the legacies of British imperialism with mashed up lyrics set against a typically eclectic sound that amalgamates everything from dub, country, noise, rock & roll, electronica, punk, music hall, polka and you can even take your partner for a nice waltz on ‘Sad And Sad And Sad’. The roots of their global sound reflect their nomadic journey through time and space from Leeds to California in the West and Siberia in the East and is woven into the fabric and intricacies of their song creation… Sounding like The Chills and R.E.M circa the I.R.S Records years, ‘Mudcrawlers’ sees just about the whole band joining Jon Langford on vocals speaking of Irish famine and refugees journeying to Wales. ‘War Economy’ shivers in the cold of such Boroughs spiked one-liners: “Clinical coercion will not achieve dominance!” Sounding like its straight off a Jenny Holzer neon sign (she of Abuse Of Power Comes As No Surprise), it’s held together by a disgruntled swaggering riff that underpins an explosion of disquiet. Meanwhile, Rico takes the lead on the maliciously luscious ‘Fallen Leaves’ an appalled and appalling Hammer Horror take on climate breakdown reminiscent of Rolling Thunder Dylan, that recalls The Pogues at their most introspective, its Celtic twilightism augmented by Susie Honeyman’s keening violin as the dying sun sinks down and the river Styx flows on in the pitch black night. Almost 50 years in the making, these Mekons continue to astound, their sound, sentiment and method of delivery blended to perfection by bass player and studio wizard, Dave Trumfio. The Mekons are Jon Langford, Sally Timms, Tom Greenhalgh, Dave Trumfio, Susie Honeyman, Rico Bell, Steve Goulding, and Lu Edmonds. "Effortlessly eloquent post-punks" Pitchfork // “The Mekons are still vital” Rolling Stone // “The most revolutionary group in the history of rock ‘n’ roll,” Lester Bangs // UK Tour 8-15 May 2025 (including London, Manchester, Glasgow, and more).

Cross Record's new album, Crush Me, is steeped in the pressures and wonders of existence—a profound statement, especially coming from artist and death doula Emily Cross. A two-and-a-half-year gestation period offered challenges, disappointments, and joys reflected in the cramped space of the album, which explores how we handle the weights we carry. Emily Cross had held hundreds of Living Funerals and was as many episodes deep into her podcast, What I’m Looking At. She was five years into serving clients as a death doula and fresh off a tour with Loma, her band with Jonathan Meiburg (Shearwater) and Dan Duszynski, when she began work on her fourth album. After moving from Austin, TX to Dorset, UK, she established the Steady Waves Center for Contemplation (named after a track from her second record, Wabi-Sabi ), where she hosted Living Funerals, met clients, scheduled mindful tea sessions, and showcased experimental music nights. All the while, she was scribbling down song ideas. Cross’s Tascam four-track demos finally reached readiness, and she sent them to an interested major independent label. She was encouraged to push her imagination to the limits of what a record could be. So, unlike her usual process of recording as inexpensively as possible, she prepared a two-week recording session in Germany with a group of skilled musicians from around the world. True to her previous work, Cross left plenty of room in her demos for experimentation, collaboration, chance, improvisation, and complete obliteration, then resurrection when necessary. Comfort and traditional structure were eschewed in favor of unaccountable magic, prayers whispered into The Void. Cross is comfortable with the chaotic and unpredictable, a perspective demanded by her work and writing style. The Berlin Airbnb was packed with people, instruments and luggage. During a ride down in a tiny elevator to the studio, Cross realized how central the sense of being crushed was to the album. “I thought of it later and it dawned on me that ‘Crush Me’ perfectly embodied the record,” says Cross. Yes, the weight of a body laying limply atop yours, or the tight squeeze of a hug, can be pleasant. Go too far, and you’re in the hands of a cruel, adolescent god. Upon leaving Germany, the record was unfinished, and without a roadmap. As passages were recorded as isolated parts, Cross and musician Marcin Sulewski collaborated, facing a haphazard brick pile, waiting to be assembled. Work dipped in and out of view like a buoy bobbing in a violent sea over many months. During that time, the aforementioned interested label went radio silent, suddenly not seeming so sure of a thing. Collaborators disappeared, continuing the themes of abandonment, surrender, and disarray that followed the project. Cross physically felt her entire body go numb: In a twist of fate, the record was rescued by long-time friend and supporter Ben Goldberg at Ba Da Bing Records who was eager to help realize the project. Cross worked for months on the album, all the while nursing a pregnancy and continuing her full-time funeral work. The last minute participation of Seth Manchester of Machines with Magnets, who mixed and mastered, was an essential liferaft. He gave true final form to the abstracted songs. Crush Me has the effect of a spell being cast, with songs balancing heaviness and levity. Vocals, guitars, and keyboards float above, as drums and upright bass (often bowed) lurch beneath. On “Rolling Backwards” percussion wanders about while feedback squeals and persists in the distance. “Dorset Area Of Natural Beauty” starts with a thick, unhinged church organ progression punctuated by the disquieting sounds of laughter reaching the point of hysteria. “God Fax” is a slow-moving panic attack, with shallow breaths in and out framing a guttural cacophony like a wooden freighter encountering increasingly turbulent waters and vocals struck emotionless by autotune. The album ends with “Twisted Up Fence,” a reflection on life from outside the wall--wistful, warm, and comforting. Cross, likely with a smile on her face, sings: “You say it’s an endless abyss” “And I say the abyss is the best”

Enxin/Onyx, the duo of Nicky Mao/Hiro Kone and Tot Onyx (formerly group A), joins Other People with their debut album "In Rupture," capturing the same mesmerizing energy for which their live sets have become known.

“In Rupture” is not painless but in rupture lies possibility. The elasticity of this time pitching us across unknown terrain, revealing new potentialities, eclipsing static being. Whether in breach, collision,shimmer or severance, Enxin/Onyx explores these as occasions for transformation. Peeling back the layers through discord and harmony, exciting the inversion of expectation, towing the listener to depths and back up again to illuminate the senses. At times metallic and feral, at others murky and sharp, each song serves as an offering for all that is in rupture; body, spirit, land, ecosystem.
The opening track “A Void” calls to mind some mutation in its mechanical ecstasy, but for what purpose remains unknown. Even in the near moments of stillness, “Needle Pierces the Threshold” breathes a forceful disquietude. Tommi’s vocals pulling the listener down into some subterranean
madness, to unravel upwards from all sides, flooding the once parched landscape. In “Embers Kissthe Eye”, all of time emerges in one moment, compelling the subject’s gaze towards a new horizon.
The album follows its subjects through exile, exhumation and discovery. Through this process plates shift, fissures are revealed and what once appeared to be indomitable absolutes crack, pointing towards their inevitable collapse. To be in rupture is regeneration, to be in rupture is to return.

The seeds of composer Rafael Anton Irisarri’s latest LP were first planted during his 2016 tour in Italy, months before that Autumn’s unexpected presidential election. The linguistic glitch of an innocuous diner in Milan named “il Mito Americano” – meant as “The American Dream” but translated literally to English as “The American Myth” – sparked a series of ideas, both conceptual and musical.

Amid the chaos of 2020, while exploring the stark world of brutalist architecture and inspired by the false fronts of Potemkin villages, a vision started to take shape: FAÇADISMS. Composed over three years, it’s a late capitalist lament of simmering electric despondency.

Irisarri’s obsession with repeating motifs mirrors the cyclical nature of our tumultuous political history. The album’s eight tracks heave and storm like a tempest being drained of its rage. This is the sound of majestic dissipation, of morning afters, fashioned from a mournful haze with cavernous guitars and granular twilight. A euphony of a receding tide as one sifts through the remnants of what remains: dust, delusion, and memory.

Opening with the somber gauze of “Broken Intensification," FAÇADISMS moves fluidly between moments of absence and abandon. Ashen swaths of electronics billow above smoldering embers of melody, guitar, and scattered streaks of processed strings and voice, as on the rapturous doom of “Control Your Soul's Desire for Freedom,” featuring Julia Kent on cello and Hannah Elizabeth Cox on vocals. "The impoverished peoples of the Americas have known all along that 'freedom' is a cruel illusion crafted by the elites, akin to Potemkin's fake villages designed to impress Catherine the Great," Irisarri indicates. "FAÇADISMS illustrates a twisted inversion where the rulers deceive their subjects with illusions of safety, democracy, and free speech to create a grotesque mirage of control over their own lives.”

Elsewhere, Irisarri leans into passages of hushed oblivion (“Hollow,” “Dispersion of Belief”), while ragged drones rumble and disintegrate into wind-battered ambient wreckage. One has the sense that it’s all too late. The hour of fury has passed. The beauty has come and gone. Irisarri’s muse has become the crack in the façade of the unraveling myth.

The record closes with a climax of grand departure. Co-written with Kenyan sound artist KMRU, “Red Moon Tide” surges from flickering elegy to celestial disquiet, roiling waves of hymnal descent, and bristling noise. The effect is unsettling and unmooring: a soundtrack for the soul leaving the body, only to discover a void. It’s the sound of the center not holding, of shared illusions being dissolved in a tunnel of white light.

The cover photograph captures a profound sense of desolation. Taken in the historic shanty town of La Perla, Puerto Rico, where Irisarri spent his childhood, brutal colonial mysteries are lost to time. A skeletal concrete structure decays against an expansive blue horizon. Only the shadow of its shell ripples on the empty sea.

Has the American myth finally run its course?

The seeds of composer Rafael Anton Irisarri’s latest LP were first planted during his 2016 tour in Italy, months before that Autumn’s unexpected presidential election. The linguistic glitch of an innocuous diner in Milan named “il Mito Americano” – meant as “The American Dream” but translated literally to English as “The American Myth” – sparked a series of ideas, both conceptual and musical.

Amid the chaos of 2020, while exploring the stark world of brutalist architecture and inspired by the false fronts of Potemkin villages, a vision started to take shape: FAÇADISMS. Composed over three years, it’s a late capitalist lament of simmering electric despondency.

Irisarri’s obsession with repeating motifs mirrors the cyclical nature of our tumultuous political history. The album’s eight tracks heave and storm like a tempest being drained of its rage. This is the sound of majestic dissipation, of morning afters, fashioned from a mournful haze with cavernous guitars and granular twilight. A euphony of a receding tide as one sifts through the remnants of what remains: dust, delusion, and memory.

Opening with the somber gauze of “Broken Intensification," FAÇADISMS moves fluidly between moments of absence and abandon. Ashen swaths of electronics billow above smoldering embers of melody, guitar, and scattered streaks of processed strings and voice, as on the rapturous doom of “Control Your Soul's Desire for Freedom,” featuring Julia Kent on cello and Hannah Elizabeth Cox on vocals. "The impoverished peoples of the Americas have known all along that 'freedom' is a cruel illusion crafted by the elites, akin to Potemkin's fake villages designed to impress Catherine the Great," Irisarri indicates. "FAÇADISMS illustrates a twisted inversion where the rulers deceive their subjects with illusions of safety, democracy, and free speech to create a grotesque mirage of control over their own lives.”

Elsewhere, Irisarri leans into passages of hushed oblivion (“Hollow,” “Dispersion of Belief”), while ragged drones rumble and disintegrate into wind-battered ambient wreckage. One has the sense that it’s all too late. The hour of fury has passed. The beauty has come and gone. Irisarri’s muse has become the crack in the façade of the unraveling myth.

The record closes with a climax of grand departure. Co-written with Kenyan sound artist KMRU, “Red Moon Tide” surges from flickering elegy to celestial disquiet, roiling waves of hymnal descent, and bristling noise. The effect is unsettling and unmooring: a soundtrack for the soul leaving the body, only to discover a void. It’s the sound of the center not holding, of shared illusions being dissolved in a tunnel of white light.

The cover photograph captures a profound sense of desolation. Taken in the historic shanty town of La Perla, Puerto Rico, where Irisarri spent his childhood, brutal colonial mysteries are lost to time. A skeletal concrete structure decays against an expansive blue horizon. Only the shadow of its shell ripples on the empty sea.

Has the American myth finally run its course?

The seeds of composer Rafael Anton Irisarri’s latest LP were first planted during his 2016 tour in Italy, months before that Autumn’s unexpected presidential election. The linguistic glitch of an innocuous diner in Milan named “il Mito Americano” – meant as “The American Dream” but translated literally to English as “The American Myth” – sparked a series of ideas, both conceptual and musical.

Amid the chaos of 2020, while exploring the stark world of brutalist architecture and inspired by the false fronts of Potemkin villages, a vision started to take shape: FAÇADISMS. Composed over three years, it’s a late capitalist lament of simmering electric despondency.

Irisarri’s obsession with repeating motifs mirrors the cyclical nature of our tumultuous political history. The album’s eight tracks heave and storm like a tempest being drained of its rage. This is the sound of majestic dissipation, of morning afters, fashioned from a mournful haze with cavernous guitars and granular twilight. A euphony of a receding tide as one sifts through the remnants of what remains: dust, delusion, and memory.

Opening with the somber gauze of “Broken Intensification," FAÇADISMS moves fluidly between moments of absence and abandon. Ashen swaths of electronics billow above smoldering embers of melody, guitar, and scattered streaks of processed strings and voice, as on the rapturous doom of “Control Your Soul's Desire for Freedom,” featuring Julia Kent on cello and Hannah Elizabeth Cox on vocals. "The impoverished peoples of the Americas have known all along that 'freedom' is a cruel illusion crafted by the elites, akin to Potemkin's fake villages designed to impress Catherine the Great," Irisarri indicates. "FAÇADISMS illustrates a twisted inversion where the rulers deceive their subjects with illusions of safety, democracy, and free speech to create a grotesque mirage of control over their own lives.”

Elsewhere, Irisarri leans into passages of hushed oblivion (“Hollow,” “Dispersion of Belief”), while ragged drones rumble and disintegrate into wind-battered ambient wreckage. One has the sense that it’s all too late. The hour of fury has passed. The beauty has come and gone. Irisarri’s muse has become the crack in the façade of the unraveling myth.

The record closes with a climax of grand departure. Co-written with Kenyan sound artist KMRU, “Red Moon Tide” surges from flickering elegy to celestial disquiet, roiling waves of hymnal descent, and bristling noise. The effect is unsettling and unmooring: a soundtrack for the soul leaving the body, only to discover a void. It’s the sound of the center not holding, of shared illusions being dissolved in a tunnel of white light.

The cover photograph captures a profound sense of desolation. Taken in the historic shanty town of La Perla, Puerto Rico, where Irisarri spent his childhood, brutal colonial mysteries are lost to time. A skeletal concrete structure decays against an expansive blue horizon. Only the shadow of its shell ripples on the empty sea.

Has the American myth finally run its course?

This Autumn sees the release of Gavin Friday’s much-awaited new album, Ecce Homo, his first in over thirteen years, and via BMG. It is a work that heralds a fuller, more sonorous, form of expression for this ever-evolving artist, one that transcends the prescribed conventions of genre, breaks new ground and brooks no compromise. Where loss, filial grief, remorse and existential disquiet were the more conspicuous tenets of Friday’s 2011 release, catholic, the presiding spirit of Ecce Homo is altogether freer, less shackled, and sovereign — indomitable, too. Self-tyranny and its capitulations have here been sublimated into strength and enduring triumph. The credo is that of a man beheld, yes, but never beholden. Recorded in Dublin and London, Ecce Homo is produced by Dave Ball (of Soft Cell), Michael Heffernan and Riccardo Mulhall. Featuring the singles ‘Ecce Homo’ and ‘The Church of Love’, the album will be available as a Limited Edition 1LP Transparent Blue, 1CD & Digital.

We welcome Torn back to Samurai Music for a full length return trip.
Immortal ventures back into the abyssal realms that Ivans music inhabits with 13 meticulously crafted solo works. Meditative, brooding and hypnotic, it's a hauntingly immersive journey that shines a light on his singular vision and artistry.
From the outset, Torn descends into the subterranean with unmatched precision. Each track on Immortal is an intricate colage of raw, sinewy textures and eerie melodies,meticulously woven to create an intensely intoxicating experience.
Standout pieces like the title track 'Immortal', 'Into The Abyss', Unending Rails' and'Glacier' display the inimitable Torn style in its full glory. Immaculate rhythms and layered atmospherics, forever evoking a sense of inexorable momentum
What sets Immortal apart is its ability to maintain a cohesive narrative while exploring diverse sonic and rhythmic territories. Torn seamlessly transitions from the minimalist, almost meditative ambience of tracks like Reckless and I Dare to the more aggressive, beat-driven attacks of Inner Battle and Invisible Turmoil. Each piece contributes to the overarching foreboding atmospheric journey.
For aficionados of deep, shadowy atmospheric drum and bass, Torn's Immortal is indispensable, a tenebrous soundscape that is equal parts innovative, disquieting and enthralling.

Limited Gray Marble Vinyl. This vinyl edition includes two EPs, one on each side: 'By the Ash Tree' and 'Upstream Dream', originally recorded and released in 2020 and 2021 respectively. To connect these compositions, Matt Kidd (Slow Meadow) composed new segues/crossfades from song to song, allowing the pieces to be experienced in one cohesive and harmonious flow. From Marc Weidenbaum's 'Disquiet' review: "Slow Meadow's new album, 'By the Ash Tree', opens with cascades of delays and proceeds through three tracks of reflective piano". The title track of 'By the Ash Tree' is one of Slow Meadow's most popular and enduring compositions. 'Upstream Dream' was composed around the time of 2019's Happy Occident. Soft electronics, bearing otherworldly tones and, at times, a sense of playful mischief, subtly shift expectations and bring discovery and wonder at every turn. It bookends a period of creative output that introduced Kidd's vision of calming and meditative ambient music. With a foundation of piano, string orchestration, and an ever-evolving electronic palette, Slow Meadow traverses the borders of neoclassical and minimalist electronics and delivers a deeply personal and transportive experience that speaks directly to the ebbs and flows and mundanity and marvels of life.

"The debut album of Berlin’s favourite two-thirds Welsh, one-third Danish instrumental psych-disco trio, out Aug 30th. Imagine Jaki, JJ and Jarre*** locked in a room together, with a memo from John Carpenter that reads “Goblin + Swans = ?”. Something like that. Raw drums, bass, vintage organs and synths are utilised to brutal effect via 7 epic songs that deliver disco disquietude, krautrock, oscillating horror soundtracks and beyond.

Or, as the band themselves insist: ""the Nicki Minaj of dungeon synth"".

The band name is the Greek classifying nomenclature for man: aka The Talking Animal. As promulgated by Anthony Burgess.

Zammit A.D. – drums, organs, synths. TNT Taylor – 4-string electric bass. Fred Alert – Moog, Dominion, percussion

featuring guest vocals from Gemma Ray. Recorded and mixed by Ingo Krauss (Swans, Einsturzende Neubauten) at Candy Bomber, Berlin. Produced by Zoon Phonanta

The band has had a difficult birth. They got together, did two shows (one with Gruff Rhys), then pandemic struck, leaving them far apart. They got back together, then Fred broke his back in an accident. When they finally reconvened, they recorded, then their other musical projects took over (eg Jon Spencer & The Hitmakers, The Third Sound). The album and live plans were then delayed by more broken limbs. Now fully healed they are poised to heal you back in gratitude, at their soon to be announced in-person performances.

*** Liebzeit (Can), Burnell (Stranglers), Jean-Michel"

The 2013 EP from the instrumental / post-rock titans Caspian, released inbetween their albums Waking Season and Dust And Disquiet. Containing 3 unreleased tracks of stunning and patient post-rock / ambient driven tunes as well as a stunning demo version of High Lonesome and 2 well placed remixes.

Patterns / Threshold, a collaborative split offering from Mesure Divide and Esse Ran, plunges the listener into a disquieting expanse of undulating rhythms and transmuted textures. Here, melodies and harmonies dissolve, fracturing into a heavy, systolic throb that whispers of superposition and entanglement.

Lush synthesizers shimmer with a noetic luminescence, their tones arching and bowing alongside relentless cyclical beats and sloshing electronics. Refractions of rave culture thrumming in stillness, their ecstatic energy dissipating into a radiant hum - a melancholic undercurrent born from the tension between fleeting exuberance and enduring inanition. This is a realm of heady paradox, where rigid structure and fluid intuition converge.

The artists navigate this liminal space with masterful precision, guiding the listener through a landscape of aural oscillations. Perception teeters on the edge of the concrete and the ephemeral; perception dissolves; reality grows soft at the edges.

Patterns / Threshold will be released on physical vinyl records and bandcamp only. No streaming, no bullshit.

Cardiff's Buzzard Buzzard Buzzard returns with Skinwalker - a garage- rock romp and follow-up to their Welsh Music Prize nominated debut album Backhand Deals.

Taking raw rock 'n' roll cues from tracks frontman Thomas Rees produced for emerging talent - such as Panic Shack, Do Nothing and The Bug Club - and teased by recently released singles "Chew" and "Therapy", the record marks the band's move towards a heavier and disquieting sound, inspired by Rees' revitalised devotion to acts such as Ty Segall, Thee Oh Sees and Black Sabbath.

"All our dreamers lose to the light" - from "Angels Go Home" When the pandemic began, and the world shut down, so did the process of creating for Iron & Wine's Sam Beam. In its place was a domesticity that the singer hadn't felt in a long time, and although it was filled with many rewards, making music was not one of them. Reflecting on that time, Beam notes: "I feel blessed and grateful that I and most of my friends and family made it through the pandemic relatively unscathed compared to so many others, but it completely paralyzed the songwriter in me. The last thing I wanted to write about was COVID, and yet every moment I sat with my pen, it lingered around the edges and wouldn't leave. This lasted for over two years." The journey back began with a recording session in Memphis to record a handful of Lori McKenna tracks for the EP Lori with friend and producer Matt Ross-Spang. The cathartic experience reconnected Beam with his love for making music, and soon enough the paralysis had passed, and he was finishing lyrics and booking studio time for what would become Light Verse. Light Verse was recorded with engineer and mixer Dave Way at his studio Waystation high up in Laurel Canyon (with an additional session at Silent Zoo Studio with a 24-piece orchestra), with a host of talented musicians joining Beam: Tyler Chester, Sebastian Steinberg, David Garza, Griffin Goldsmith, Beth Goodfellow, Kyle Crane, and Paul Cartwright. And, Fiona Apple joined Beam on vocals for the duet "All In Good Time." Beam lyrically once again takes focus on a series of both fictional and personal insights, filled with desperate characters and wide-eyed optimists, offering promise and a dose of heartache, tears and laughter, life and love. Taking stock in the album's title, he jokes, "Light verse is a form of poetry about playful themes that often uses nonsense and wordplay, and it's my first official Iron & Wine comedy album!_. Just kidding_." While true this may be Iron & Wine's most playful record, Beam says the title mostly reflects the way the songs were born with joy after the heaviness and anxiety of the pandemic. Where recent records like Beast Epic or Weed Garden gave air to the disquiet of middle-aged frailty and brokenness, these songs trade that for the focus acceptance can bring. Moment by moment, they delight in being pointed or silly (or both) and attempt beauty over prettiness. Light Verse arrives April 26th, and it's Iron & Wine's seventh full-length overall and fifth for Sub Pop Records. Fashioned as an album that should be taken as a whole, it sounds lovingly handmade and self-assured as a secret handshake. Track by track, its equal parts elegy, kaleidoscope, truth, and dare.

Kaleida are the transatlantic duo whose darkly mystic soundworld finds glimmers of hope in the disquiet. Span- ning an ocean, the pair have nurtured a long-distance partnership that withstands the shifting patterns of life. They first formed in 2013 when a friend introduced them over email. Christina Wood was working in the Indone- sian forest while recording demos in her bedroom each night, and Cicely Goulder had been composing for film productions in London. Despite the miles between them, they found an instant musical chemistry.
Kaleida first came to international renown in 2014, when their single “Think” went viral overnight and was featured in the soundtrack for the cult Keanu Reeves film, John Wick. Their debut album Tear The Roots arrived in 2017 and crystallised the pair’s moody pop aesthetic, which merges Wood’s sylph-like, operatic vocals with Goulder’s neo-Noir electronica. The record earned the duo their sec- ond spot in a film soundtrack, this time for Atomic Blonde with a tender take on Nena’s 1980s anti-war classic “99 Luftballons”. It was followed in 2020 by the pair’s second album Odyssey dubbed “a consummate work of electronic artistry.” Their new album In Arms is a record that leans into a near transcendent spiritualism, where their minimalist production conceals a raw, celestial power. With a departure from their previously insular way of working, they invited other musicians into the production process, most notably producer Johan Hugo (Self Esteem, M.I.A, Skepta).

Kane Pour is a songwriter and multimedia artist who lives in Gainesville, FL, and has been making loop and guitar-based electronic music since 2004. His work often leans into the subtle and murky emotions that dwell beneath the surface, calling forth themes of care, sadness, and tenderness of the human soul. With a wide sonic palette and sense of humor, he puts his love of harmony and space first, slowly dimming through soft landscapes of various textures. The Last Wave is a spiritual successor to Sun People Sleepwalker, an album Kane Pour released as Pospulenn in 2010. The album is a series of ambient guitar meditations on reconciling painful memories, growing, and reclaiming identity. The Last Wave was recorded at the onset of the Covid pandemic when Pour was home isolating. He put together the songs and walked around at night listening to them, feeling intense loneliness in the present, but finding comfort in having time to reflect on his past. The tone and aesthetic of the album evolved over time but Pour named it The Last Wave because he thought it might be his last album or the last living remnant of his soul left after the world fell apart.

The Total Space sees Boa Morte edge deeper into the woods of ambient, drone and synthesised sound with little to guide them but their innate melodic compass and instinct for unorthodox song. Daniel Presley, the perma-nomadic Texan producer, flew in to safeguard the Boa Morte fundamentals: emotive yet unsentimental vocals; a disquieting ease with space and silence; percussive interventions on drum-shell, tom-rim and cymbal-cup; an aversion to rhythm guitar; harmonies that add rather than dilute personality, and a bloody-minded patience when it comes to pacing.

Behold the timeless, elegant, sophisticated man that is Donny Benet.

More than a decade since the world first fell for his charms, Donny Benet is taking charge of his destiny like never before. His new album, number six, is called Infinite Desires, and it’s his most complete musical statement yet.

Across eight tracks, Donny sets out a vision that embraces a diversity of experience, from elation to introspection, from disquiet to unbridled ecstasy. Take the brash slapped bass of the opening track, Multiply; or American Dream, his meditation on warped dreams and distractions; or the self-empowerment at the heart of So Long, an ode to stepping away from toxic relationships; or Wait Until it Rains Tomorrow, a moving, cathartic tale of acceptance folded within Donny’s trademark sound, a smooth wave of harmonies and rhythm that makes you feel like everything is going to be ok.

“I like to work with a variety of instruments and set ups,” says Mark Van Hoen, sometimes known as Locust or Autocreation but here working under his own name on the excellent Plan For A Miracle, his first physical release of solo music since 2018’s Invisible Threads. ”Sometimes it’s literally in my studio, with all the hardware electronics available. Sometimes the laptop, using software instruments. Some of the tracks on this record were recorded in the desert (Joshua Tree) using a 4-track tape machine and small modular synthesiser set up. Each track was recorded in different location using different instruments, which accounts for the distinction between each piece. It’s also about my own reaction to my environment, and what’s going on in my life at the time.”

The Croydon-born Van Hoen started musical life in the early 1990s, signing for R&S records in 1993 but developing his own, myriad and distinctive style across a range of releases on Touch, Editions Mego and other labels, using a battery of instruments, including analogue synthesizers and taking a number of different approaches to recording, rather than ploughing a single sonic furrow. He has worked on a number of collaborations, including with Nick Holton and Neil Halstead of Slowdive, under the moniker of Black Hearted Brother - their Stars Are Our Home was released in 2013. “I have known Neil Halstead since 1992,” says Van Hoen. “He shared a house with me for a couple of years, and the music I was making and listening to along with clubs I was attending had an influence particularly on Pygmalion, the final Slowdive album on Creation.”

Each track on Plan For A Miracle does indeed sound like a world unto itself, a mini-environment, a weather condition, an ecosystem created for the moment. It’s a collection of tracks recorded over the past few years, released on Bandcamp - despite his apparent absence, Van Hoen works constantly. Opener “Climates”, in its exquisite limpidity, feels like a homage to Brian Eno, one of his most formative influences in his teen years, commencing with Music For Films, which he bought in 1979. “This Is For Them”, feels like a ghostlike throwback to early drum & bass or electronica, reminiscent of his own, earliest outings. “There have been a number of requests from labels to make some more music like my very early releases on R&S,” says Van Hoen. “This is part of ‘letting go’ and realising that there’s nothing less creative about going back to those styles again.”

“Pencil Of Spheres” is something else again, a magnificent, imaginary glass structure, shimmering, refracting, without visible means of suspension, a thing of impossible beauty. “Electric Lights” evokes an abandoned fairground, its lights still pulsating, its music lingering. “The Underpass”, meanwhile, insofar as it reminds of anything at all, is faintly reminiscent of Cluster or Neu’s! West German ambience, the urban mundane rendered magical, the sodium lights, the whitewashed walls. The reverberant, faintly oriental chimes of “Insight” transport us yet again, burgeoning and intensifying.

The landscapes, the skyscapes rendered on Plan For A Miracle feel unpopulated as a rule - but when he does introduce vocal elements, Van Hoen has a history of doing so to spectacular effect - think of “Real Love” from 1998’s Playing With Time, the seductive intonation of its title recurring throughout like a series of massive holograms, echoing, stuttering, breaking up, surging. Here, there are just the faintest of vocals, barely distinct, disquieting. “There’s been a bit of a game changer in recent times,” explains Van Hoen. “AI software that enables you to extract vocals and instrument parts from virtually any recording. That means sampling individual parts from existing sources is no longer limited to the original mix exposing certain parts soloed. The vocal parts I use are from multiple sources and often pitch shifted altered rhythmically and melodically.“ There’s further vocal chatter on “I Really Do”, proceeding at a faster pace as if giving chase, or being pursued - distant, enigmatic. “The Music”, meanwhile, its beat tolling, lost in its own fog of static, features a curious intonation, like the ghost of a lost Walker Brother.

Sadly, the album’s title is in reference to a personal tragedy on Van Hoen’s part - the loss of his wife. Titles such as “I Won’t Give Up”, which faintly reminds of another Eno masterpiece, Another Green World, in its nautical hurly-bury, or the pastoral strains of “Mrs Who”, heavily clouded with sadness, seem to allude to this. “In fact the record was recorded entirely before she passed away,” says Van Hoen, “most of it before she even became very ill. The title was given to the album when it started to look like she wasn’t going to make it beyond a few months. It was something Osho said - “plan for a miracle” - so it was a statement of hope. Unfortunately it was not to be.” Although the album is non-thematic, non-specific in its atmospheres, sound paintings, elegant structures it most certainly stands as a magnificent monument to Osho’s memory.

-David Stubbs.

Introducing Count Buffalo! An ambitious work that explores the sound of the next generation with innovative arrangements and outstanding performances. A new era opens here.

Akira Ishikawa, a drummer who led groups such as Midnight Sons, Genchers, and Count Buffaloes and has released countless works to the world. This work, the earliest recording under the name of Count Buffalo, features Ken Muraoka, Hiromasa Suzuki, Kiyoshi Sugimoto, Masahiko Sato, and others. Hip jazz-rock “Cougar” led by disquieting strings, “Greensleeves” with a hint of avant-garde, his own interpretation of “Hey Jude”, and a dry jazz-rock version of a folk song such as “Makouta”. , so dense that you don’t even have time to breathe. It is one of the most important works in the history of Japanese jazz-rock, not only in content, but also considering the era of 1969.
text by Yusuke Ogawa (UNIVERSOUND/DEEP JAZZ REALITY)

Limited rerelease. Unavailable for years. The legendary album from 1984. Fully remastered by David Cunningham. These recordings were originally released on cassette by Touch in 1984 with the exception of 'Parts Of My Body', released on a single by Canal Records in 1979. Performed by: Steve Beresford: bass, piano, farfisa organ, prophet 5, trumpet, flugelhorn, euphonium, percussion, glockenspiel, voice, toy piano, melodica, noises, rhythm tracks, drumkit. David Toop: guitar, prepared guitar, bass, percussion, flute, alto flute, glockenspiel, voice, tapes, noises, rhythm tracks David Cunningham: tape treatments with guests: Lol Coxhill, Dawn Roberts and Maartje ten Hoorn 'The atmosphere which General Strike conjure together suits an old fashioned, cold war-ish scenario of technology. Their 'Interplanetary Music' is the space pop of George Pal and 'The Day The Earth Stood Still', of computers built like Blackpool Tower in order to struggle through simple trigonometry, of 'The Jetsons' and I.G.Y. They go no further than Expo 67, the world's last gasp of optimism. And although there are dark and disquieting moods set in this mosaic which their listeners have pieced together, it is made with a humour which is true to the spirit of adventure which those references apply. The sanitation merchants who make up most of the world's record-makers today would forbid our ears from hearing these strangely electric keyboards, earthworked textures, bizarre chattering of percussion, and voices that seem like puzzled robots. Cataloguing the sound in that way makes it all seem a bit of a joke, but it isn't: laughter is encouraged, but it's serious music, made with a great deal more serious spirit than the great and disheartening mountain of music which today implores you to hear and not listen.' (Richard Cook).

Four years after they went all the way to Antarctica, Flat Worms are back in gen pop with the rest of us - but, as intoned on the album opener "Sigalert," "back again like I never was." Is this a nod to the way time passes over our sorely vexed synapses? Or are we to believe that there"s hope to be found in this broken world? Kick back with Witness Marks and see what other traces Flat Worms have left us in the dust. The album title alone leaves a foreboding impression. But look closer - "witness marks" aren"t something out of a forensic analysis - they"re actually practical; scratches placed in old clocks designed to aid continued maintenance further in time. Sure, there"s big questions and more on the board; primarily if we"re at all distinct from the absurdity coming down around us, or just another character in the mirror? Flat Worms are looking inward this time, outlining personal space in relation to themselves and others - sometimes even people they barely know. Among the slabs of slategrey outrage, the flowers of compassion are blooming, and the simmering power of their trio grows exponentially. Working once again with Ty Segall, Flat Worms continue to find new answers by digging into themselves and playing their kind of rock: hard and flat, bass and drums thrusting stalwartly forward with conviction, guitar twisting and spinning in outrage, deadpan vocals decrying a dire set of circumstances. The democracy of working together, so often messy and frustrating, was found to be a powerful release for Justin, Tim and Will. Acting as one, Flat Worms navigated challenging times by coming together, finding release in the clockwork repetitions of practice and the shared creative space they occupied together against the encroaching world. In the short century of their existence, Flat Worms have agitated against the status quo with a disquieting lyric bent, to emphasize the psychosis of the times. These are positions taken within songs, sung out to individuals in the world. As evidenced by the lyrics, "But I know I can always see you at the show Even though it"s only temporary and it"s time to go." . . .Witness Marks surveys an evolving sense of community. Flat Worms are dedicated to persevering and using the power of their collective. Come witness!

Four years after they went all the way to Antarctica, Flat Worms are back in gen pop with the rest of us - but, as intoned on the album opener "Sigalert," "back again like I never was." Is this a nod to the way time passes over our sorely vexed synapses? Or are we to believe that there"s hope to be found in this broken world? Kick back with Witness Marks and see what other traces Flat Worms have left us in the dust. The album title alone leaves a foreboding impression. But look closer - "witness marks" aren"t something out of a forensic analysis - they"re actually practical; scratches placed in old clocks designed to aid continued maintenance further in time. Sure, there"s big questions and more on the board; primarily if we"re at all distinct from the absurdity coming down around us, or just another character in the mirror? Flat Worms are looking inward this time, outlining personal space in relation to themselves and others - sometimes even people they barely know. Among the slabs of slategrey outrage, the flowers of compassion are blooming, and the simmering power of their trio grows exponentially. Working once again with Ty Segall, Flat Worms continue to find new answers by digging into themselves and playing their kind of rock: hard and flat, bass and drums thrusting stalwartly forward with conviction, guitar twisting and spinning in outrage, deadpan vocals decrying a dire set of circumstances. The democracy of working together, so often messy and frustrating, was found to be a powerful release for Justin, Tim and Will. Acting as one, Flat Worms navigated challenging times by coming together, finding release in the clockwork repetitions of practice and the shared creative space they occupied together against the encroaching world. In the short century of their existence, Flat Worms have agitated against the status quo with a disquieting lyric bent, to emphasize the psychosis of the times. These are positions taken within songs, sung out to individuals in the world. As evidenced by the lyrics, "But I know I can always see you at the show Even though it"s only temporary and it"s time to go." . . .Witness Marks surveys an evolving sense of community. Flat Worms are dedicated to persevering and using the power of their collective. Come witness!

The latest by Canadian composer Tim Hecker serves as a beacon of unease against the deluge of false positive corporate ambient currently in vogue.

Whether taken as warning or promise, No Highs delivers – this is music of austerity and ambiguity, purgatorial and seasick. A jagged anti-relaxant for our medicated age, rough-hewn and undefined.

Morse code pulse programming flickers like distress signals while a gathering storm of strings, noise, and low-end looms in the distance. Processed electronics shiver and shudder against pitch-shifting assemblages of crackling voltage, mantric horns (including exquisite modal sax by Colin Stetson), and cathedral keys.
Throughout, the pieces both accrue and avoid drama, more attuned to undertow than crescendo. Hecker mentions “negation” as a muse of sorts – the sense of tumult without bombast, tethered ecstasies, an escape from escapism. His is an antagonism both brusque and beguiling, devoid of resolution, beckoning the listener ever deeper into its greyscale alchemies of magisterial disquiet.

A Colourful Storm presents Seance, a new set of songs by Maxine Funke.

Following a productive recording period beginning with Silk (2018) and ending with Forest Photographer (2020), Seance marks a remarkable levitation of Funke’s tender, softly spoken songcraft first documented on Lace (2008) and Felt (2012) into new creative heights. Folksong confessionals with the burden of memory. Ghostly confines, murmurs from the cracks. Soil, blood and skin. The beauty and mundanity of the everyday.

The voice of Funke is a distinctive instrument, one which perfectly elucidates her sometimes confessional, at other times deeply inward allusions to love, loss, joy and disquiet. Lyrics grounded in observation and adventure (“Eyeballs, asphalt, grass clippings, peppercorns”) unravel into uneasy truths daubed in self-consciousness and forbidden desire (“I’m not shy / There's just a sparkle in your eye and I don't feel right”). The simplest things can be the most difficult to express.

Opener ’Fairy Baby’ and ‘Homage’ are sensuous and probing, celebrating new beginnings while cautiously closing old chapters. ‘Quiet Shore’, a seven-minute reverie of guitar strum and poetry, conjures spirits long forgotten and shines as Funke’s first solo foray into longform songwriting. A perfect accompaniment to the album’s centrepiece, ‘Lucky Penny’, a euphoric, entrancing rush foreshadowing the delicate dreamspeak still to come.

An assertive, visionary recording by one of New Zealand’s most extraordinary voices, Seance is a lover’s lament, a revealing of self and a secluded wander through fields of enchantment.

Constantly evolving and adapting his sound, Shackleton has releases
spanning labels such as Honest Jon’s, Perlon and his own imprints, Skull Disco (co-founded with Appleblim) and Woe to the Septic Heart!.
Shackleton now finds a home for a brand new project on the Barcelona-based, Modern Obscure Music.

Undoubtedly Shackleton, but taking the meditative aspects of his sound to a new plane, The Purge of Tomorrow, is an alias born to transmit a less dancefloor-orientated experience to whomever is ready to receive it.
‘The Other Side of Devastation’ is an investigation into a novel form of
deepness. Adverse to the reductive label of ‘Ambient’, these tracks are spawned from a live performance context. The essence was to create an immersive encounter where listeners are called on to actively unburden their mind of unnecessary thoughts. Staying true to the trance elements that Shackleton is renowned for, this EP is not dependent on traditional structures or a linear narrative.
‘Time Moving’ presents itself through a journey of disquieted moments and contemplative states. Hypnotic strings provided by Kathy Alberici construct pastoral phrases that mesh with the larger looming drones,
culminating to conjure a daydream-like energy. Following on, ‘Waves’
twists through various forms, awash with cascading vocal splices and
soothing murmurs contrasted with rousing sub pressure.
Reflective and sometimes provocative, as an artist who resents the
pigeon-holes of genre, The Purge of Tomorrow presents an exciting new direction for Shackleton. Bursting-at-the-seams with emotional
complexity as to echo the woes of the human condition, this EP is
steeped in feelings of forgone events doomed to be replicated.

11th album by the one-of-a-kind collective: psychedelia and free form jazz (not jazz) trigger a sophisticated excursion into weird textures with drastic turns. Dislocated dense music full of secret connections!

Kammerflimmer Kollektief – "Schemen"

Before reason prevails, invoked by those who want everything to remain as it is, Kammerflimmer Kollektief disrupts the established supply chains of sound. It seeks more interesting ways to assemble them. Trusting in this, because of the fact that every sound that still comes out of a guitar, a bass, a harmonium, drums and electronic devices has already been taken into the common mangle of meaning anyway. Enough of all that. Here, nothing is explained. Here we speak in schemes. Polished and jerky.

The images that Kammerflimmer Kollektief conjures up therefore happen not in the focus of consciousness, but rather in its outer realms. In those to which one does not give one's full attention at the moment, but which are nevertheless perceived. For example, when a leaf falls from the ground back up to the tree in the corner of your eye, and for an instant you think this is possible, before you realize it was a small bird flying into the tree; it is in just such irritating moments between perception and realization that the art of the Kollektief also unfolds. On "Schemen", familiar fragments float gently around their core – a Fender Rhodes tone, a bass figure, a guitar motif, a masterful drum shuffle, a moment of icy stasis borrowed from the harmonium playing of Christa 'Nico' Päffgen. Triggering brief associations, they slowly rush off in other directions through free jazz-informed editing work, whereupon such zones can also arise in which perception has a few tricks ready and earlier experience suddenly breaks into the now in a completely different way. Half suspected, half seen.

Half-music like Can from Cologne – also masters of improvised editing – sometimes produced a few decades ago in their in-between moments. The first minutes of "Future Days" for example, which fade in gently, sketch a barely graspable figure emerging from all directions of the room. Kammerflimmer Kollektief also engages in similarly open moments of development. Loosely, it eludes the first formative impressions, keeping itself ready for moments that do not follow any logic of appointment. This looseness in handling makes Kammerflimmer Kollektief so fluidly audible, even when dissonant peaks and free playing arise. What Karlheinz Stockhausen is to Can's understanding of composition, the recordings of The Cocoon are to Kammerflimmer Kollektief. The Cocoon, a meeting of garage psychedelics from the Hannover area with free jazzers from the Galaxie Dream Band, whose album "While The Recording Engineer Sleeps", recorded in 1985 in unguarded moments, operates in a very similar way with decentralized perceptual ambivalences and only appeared more or less secretly four years later on Wilhelm Reich Schallspeicher. Other traces of "Schemen" lead to the debut album of Quicksilver Messenger Service. The guitars of Gary Duncan and John Cipollina, which refer to themselves in an unforced manner, are instructions to let go. They don't want to be traced in every note as a solo, but they give their music a sense that the essential takes place off center, in the mutual and intuitive gift of loving attentions. Consciousness-free.

Loving turns like the little guitar phrase that, like a kind of leitmotif, is repeatedly ghosting more or less unchanged through all of the Kammerflimmer Kollektief albums. A Coricidin induced, very catchy slide idea filtered out of ancient Æther, which – who knows – maybe even centuries ago found its way from somewhere to America – the old, the eerie – and from there wafted on through the ages to southern Germany, to a smoky studio in the Upper Rhine lowlands. A memory of which even the memory no longer knows what it once reminded. Unsaid, then forgotten.

In Kammerflimmer Kollektief you will also find a friend of slowly building, unhurried music, which probably would have been appreciated by the old Franz Mesmer, who 200 years ago, after tranquilizing treatments, sometimes used to play for his patients ambient melodies on the enormous glass harmonica. However, in order not to surrender completely to the flow of one's own life energy, as Mesmer had in mind with his therapies, Kammerflimmer Kollektief occasionally adds hectic tensions, gently embraced by the droning of a sine wave generator, as if a trance could briefly refesh. This old analog sine wave generator is new in the Kammerflimmer assortment of sounds. So, the art of the Kollektief likes to dock occasionally in modern times, yet with the past in mind. Mental states begin to flicker between imagination and certainty, between culture-bound art expression and coincidences: A cawing and scraping can always just be a cawing and scraping with Kammerflimmer Kollektief, the way Andy Warhol's mushroom eater just eats a mushroom.

Heike Aumüller's cover works, which illustrate all the Kammerflimmer Kollektief albums, additionally act as amplifiers of unexplained refractions. Her style consists of eye-corner art that remains so, even when looked at directly. Her shots remain disquieting because they do not jolt themselves into a reassuring order, even in retrospect. Rather than evading the fear that arises when looking at them by trying to impose some irrational rhyme or reason, that fear must simply be endured. This strategy of endurance is equally applicable to the music. The trick is to let parts be parts without compulsively seeking delusional patterns that lull us into a false sense of security and in doing so, possibly delude ourselves. In this context, freedom means not having to anxiously attach a fantasized superior meaning to everything. "Schemen" has an conspiracy disintegrating effect.


b A2 Zweites Kapitel (ruckartig) [feat. Heike Aumüller]

Ware began as an experimental electronic duo back in the 1980s, when you had to know what you were doing. Comprising Sacha Galvagna, who went on to play with acts as diverse as Rosa Mota, Horsepower, Charles Atlas, Crown Estate, The Last King of England and Carta, and Andrew Wilson a producers’ producer, noise machine maker and DJ, who found underground acclaim for his Crossed Wires output, the band reconnected earlier this decade when they found themselves with some unexpected time on their hands. From across continents the pair took advantage of 21st century technology to resurrect a sketchpad of aural experimentation that would become the foundation of Star Catalogue, Ware’s long overdue long player set for release through Absent Music.

Setting out with the spectral cha-cha of title track Star Catalogue, Ware chart their passage through diaphanous arrangements that veer off mid-song into unexpected new spaces, melting into liminal vibrations that render large parts of the album as continuous pieces inherently connected by overtones and sentiment. Threading its gossamer sounds into a surprisingly unyielding whole, the album takes in the phantasmal glam of Nerve Agency, Sable Bay’s prismatic ache, the infinitesimal disquiet of Eigen State, and the nylon strung desire of New Model. As the pair impart the unhurried entreaties of The Splintered Woods, which gives way to the cabin fever of My Life as a Ghost and its switch up into ebullient arousal, the unexpected focus-pull of Frame, the shadowy elegy of Nepenthe, and the apparitional house of The Apprentice Pillar, Ware artfully draw the listener into a heady intimacy that is a striking contrast to the cookie cutter soul-bearing histrionics of modern pop music.

In an era in which the thrill of anticipation has been extinguished by the attention-free instant gratification of streaming’s ‘what you want when you want it’ model, Ware have delivered a piece of work that is greater than the sum of its exemplary parts. Painted in exquisitely fragile figures that lead inexorably onward through its 11 tracks, Star Catalogue won’t be so vulgar as to demand your attention, but it unquestionably deserves it.

Sacramento, CA duo Blank Gloss’s third album, Cornered, is an exquisite statement of pop ambient starkness, an album that oscillates between lush beauty and spare melancholy. It follows from their 2021 debut for Kompakt, Melt, an album that saw Morgan Fox (piano, synths) and Patrick Hills (guitar) aligned, loosely, with the cosmic pastorale of the ‘ambient Americana’ movement. Cornered feels like a significant step forward, though – by peeling back the layers of their music, they’ve revealed both its restful core and its solemn gravitas. It is unendingly lovely, but with something disquieting at its centre.

Cornered was recorded quickly, over two days in December 2020. There’s nothing rushed or haphazard about the album, though; everything has its place, with each sonic element contributing profoundly to these nine miniature dioramas. It signals change, quietly but perceptibly, through the way the duo sculpts their material, building out of loose improvisations that morphed into songs. While there was no plan in mind when Blank Gloss settled into the studio, Fox recalls that “right away we realised that things were sounding and feeling a bit different than any of the sessions we had previously.”

That difference can be heard in the increased amount of space Blank Gloss gift to their sound sources. Some of the most moving moments on Cornered come when Fox and Hills strip everything back – see, for example, “Crossing”, which sets pensive piano across a shyly humming drone and quiet arcs of guitar, recalling the driftworks of Roger Eno. Curiously, the album’s distinctive shape and mood develops, at least in part, from a change in instrumentation, with Hills using a MIDI pick-up on his guitar. “This resulted in making things happen a lot quicker,” Fox says. “It also helped create what I think is a bit more sombre, dark feeling to some of the songs.”

Elsewhere, on songs like “Salt”, the piano tussles with flecks of guitar, single tones sent out to mingle with the stars, like Morricone at 16 RPM, while Cornered’s centrepiece, the eleven-minute “No Appetite”, lets long arcs of electronic texture breathe and sigh, tangling together in a cat’s cradle of bliss. Throughout, it feels as though the music is blossoming as you hear it, like watching time-lapse footage of flora in bloom. But perhaps the most seductive thing about Cornered is the sense you get, listening, that the music was something unexpected, a visitation. “It almost felt like we weren’t dictating where the music went and how it sounded,” Fox agrees. “We were just there in a room together in December and these sounds were happening, and we were lucky enough to be recording the process.”

Cornered, das dritte Album des kalifornischen Duos Blank Gloss aus Sacramento, ist ein exquisites Statement von pop ambienter Krassheit, ein Album, das zwischen üppiger Schönheit und sparsamer Melancholie oszilliert. Es folgt ihrem 2021er Debüt für Kompakt, Melt, einem Album, auf dem sich Morgan Fox (Klavier, Synthesizer) und Patrick Hills (Gitarre) locker an der kosmischen Pastorale der „Ambient Americana“-Bewegung ausrichteten. Cornered fühlt sich jedoch wie ein bedeutender Schritt nach vorne an – indem sie die Schichten ihrer Musik abschälen, haben sie sowohl ihren ruhigen Kern als auch ihre feierliche Schwere offenbart. Es ist unendlich schön, aber mit etwas Beunruhigendem in seiner Mitte.

Cornered wurde relativ schnell aufgenommen, über zwei Tage im Dezember 2020. Es klingt jedoch nichts überstürzt oder willkürlich an diesem Album; alles hat seinen Platz, wobei jedes Klangelement einen wesentlichen Beitrag zu diesen neun Miniaturdioramen leistet. Es signalisiert Veränderung, leise, aber wahrnehmbar, durch die Art und Weise, wie das Duo sein Material formt und aus losen Improvisationen aufbaut, die sich in Songs verwandeln. Als Blank Gloss sich im Studio niederließen, gab es zwar keinen Plan, aber Fox erinnert sich: „Uns war sofort klar, dass sich die Dinge etwas anders anhörten und anfühlten als bei allen vorherigen Sessions.“

Dieser Unterschied ist in der größeren Menge an Raum zu hören, die Blank Gloss ihren Klangquellen bietet. Einige der bewegendsten Momente auf Cornered kommen, wenn Fox und Hills alles zurücknehmen – siehe zum Beispiel „Crossing“, wo ein nachdenkliches Klavier über einen schüchtern summenden Drone und leise Gitarrenloops setzt und an die Driftworks von Roger Eno erinnert. Seltsamerweise entwickelt sich die unverwechselbare Form und Stimmung des Albums zumindest teilweise aus einer Änderung der Instrumentierung, bei der Hills einen MIDI-Tonabnehmer an seiner Gitarre verwendet. „Dies führte dazu, dass die Dinge viel schneller abliefen“, sagt Fox. „Es hat auch dazu beigetragen, einigen der Songs ein etwas düstereres, dunkleres Gefühl zu verleihen.“ An anderer Stelle, bei Songs wie „Salt“, spielt das Klavier mit Gitarrenfetzen, einzelne Töne werden ausgesandt, um sich mit den Sternen zu vermischen, wie Morricone bei 16 U/min, während Cornereds Herzstück, das elfminütige „No Appetite“, lange Bögen schlägt, elektronische Texturen atmet und seufzt, um sich in einem Katzenkörbchen der Glückseligkeit zu verheddern. Während des Hörens fühlt es sich an, als ob die Musik blüht, als würde man sich Zeitrafferaufnahmen von blühenden Pflanzen ansehen. Aber das Verführerischste an Cornered ist vielleicht das Gefühl, das man beim Zuhören bekommt, dass die Musik etwas Unerwartetes war, eine Heimsuchung. „Es fühlte sich fast so an, als hätten WIR nicht diktiert, wohin die Musik geht und wie sie klingt“, stimmt Fox zu. „Wir waren just im Dezember zusammen in einem Raum, als diese Geräusche passierten, und wir hatten das Glück, dass die Aufnahme mitlief.”

Ukrainian blackened death/doom metal offensive 1914 continue to reflect the gruesome tales of World War I, its soldiers’ fate, their death, fear and feats to be never forgotten, and unleash their new opus, Where Fear and Weapons Meet, on October 22nd, via Napalm Records. Its eleven tracks of pure historic harshness follow up to the band’s sophomore full-length, The Blind Leading the Blilnd (2018), and debut, Eschatology of War (2014), both highly acclaimed amongst critics, and create a sophisticated variety of massively brutal blackened death metal accented by dramatic and realistic audio soundscapes and disquieting melodies spiced with the approach of sludge and doom! Blurb IG#1: "After their highly acclaimed previous records, blackened death/doom metal unit 1914 again faces the cruelty of World War I on its third opus Where Fear and Weapons Meet . The first single “...And a Cross Now Marks His Place” already marks an absolute highlight, as this massive outburst features none other than Paradise Lost icon Nick Holmes, whose pervasive delivery matches with 1914 ’s mastermind Hptm. Ditmar Kumarberg’s (9. Westpreußisches Infanterie-Regiment Nr. 176) vocal harshness." Blurb IG#2: Blackened death/doom metal frontrunners 1914 return with their third inexorable opus, the new studio album Where Fear and Weapons Meet. On this masterpiece of pure harshness, 1914 again reflects the gruesome tales of World War I without making any compromises. Second single “Pillars of fire”, that deals with The Battle of Messines in 1917, starts with an atmospheric introduction that draws the listener deep into the album theme and erupts into a massive blackened death/doom outburst shortly after. Blurb IG#3:Since 2014, Ukrainian blackened death/doom metal visionaries 1914 have told the gruesome tales of World War I and are now ready to face the fiery depths again on their third attack, Where Fear and Weapons Meet. Third single “FN .380 ACP#19074” breaks in with heavy guitar lines and thunderous black metal drumming like a blaze of gunfire and reflects the assassination of Austrian Archduke Franz Ferdinand and his wife 1914 in Sarejevo, an event that caused the outbreak of World War I.

The title, nature morte, is the French term for still life paintings whose literal translation is "dead nature." BIG|BRAVE color the songs of nature morte with unease, creating an air of beauty in decay, chords suspended in contemplative stillness. Robin Wattie"s experiences structuring lyrics and song forms on The Body & BIG|BRAVE"s Leaving None But Small Birds informed her work on nature morte, creating stories that, like many folk tales, are at once specific and universal. Wattie"s voice manages to be commanding and vulnerable with impressive range and intimacy. Even her gasps carve their way through the tidal crash of Mathieu Ball"s distortion wail and the pummel of Tasy Hudson"s drums. The momentum of nature morte conjures the image of a beast collapsing beneath its own weight before resiliently staggering upright to thunder onward. BIG|BRAVE convey heft from silence as deftly as they do from swaths of feedback and distortion to cathartic ends. "Distortion is key," notes Ball The three members recorded primarily live over the course of a week at Machines with Magnets with Seth Manchester, pushing the potential of their instruments beyond expectations. For each song, the trio"s songwriting and attention to detail deliver its simple but devastating emotional power. Across the album"s six pieces BIG|BRAVE create a tension between immediacy and patience, invoking the essence of disquiet, while conveying anguish through inventive arrangements and nuanced performances. nature morte captures BIG|BRAVE at their heaviest and their mournful fury is at its zenith, an album where each moment is so immense and consuming that it possesses its own gravitational pull.

The title, nature morte, is the French term for still life paintings whose literal translation is "dead nature." BIG|BRAVE color the songs of nature morte with unease, creating an air of beauty in decay, chords suspended in contemplative stillness. Robin Wattie"s experiences structuring lyrics and song forms on The Body & BIG|BRAVE"s Leaving None But Small Birds informed her work on nature morte, creating stories that, like many folk tales, are at once specific and universal. Wattie"s voice manages to be commanding and vulnerable with impressive range and intimacy. Even her gasps carve their way through the tidal crash of Mathieu Ball"s distortion wail and the pummel of Tasy Hudson"s drums. The momentum of nature morte conjures the image of a beast collapsing beneath its own weight before resiliently staggering upright to thunder onward. BIG|BRAVE convey heft from silence as deftly as they do from swaths of feedback and distortion to cathartic ends. "Distortion is key," notes Ball The three members recorded primarily live over the course of a week at Machines with Magnets with Seth Manchester, pushing the potential of their instruments beyond expectations. For each song, the trio"s songwriting and attention to detail deliver its simple but devastating emotional power. Across the album"s six pieces BIG|BRAVE create a tension between immediacy and patience, invoking the essence of disquiet, while conveying anguish through inventive arrangements and nuanced performances. nature morte captures BIG|BRAVE at their heaviest and their mournful fury is at its zenith, an album where each moment is so immense and consuming that it possesses its own gravitational pull.

Deluxe 180gram vinyl edition comes in a foil-embossed and die-cut cardstock jacket with printed inner sleeve and additional 12x12 art cards featuring the collages of Maciek Szczerbowski. All the art interacts with the die-cut jacket framing. Edition of 300. Rooted in a distinct and immediately identifiable sound_with the cello of Rebecca Foon (Saltland, Set Fire To Flames, Thee Silver Mt Zion) and the marimba of ex-Godspeed You! Black Emperor percussionist Bruce Cawdron at its core_Esmerine has long embroidered emotive chamber works using threads of post-classical, post-rock, Minimalism, neo-Baroque, jazz, pop and a wide array of folk traditions. Multi-instrumentalist Brian Sanderson, who joined the group in 2012, has furthered Esmerine's melodic and ethnomusicological sensibility ever since, expanding the ensemble's palette as its third core member with guitars, ngoni, ekonting, hulusi, brass horns of all sorts, and more. Since 2003, six stately and filmic instrumental albums have inscribed compositional landscapes through epigrammatic miniatures, longform multi-movement chronicles, and all manner of evocative musical prosody between. Marked by an inimitably turbid yet tempered pastoralism, alternately lit by dappled dawn and disquieted dusk, Esmerine's musical narratives balance asceticism and romanticism, melancholy and hope, stillness and wanderlust. Esmerine now shares Everything Was Forever Until It Was No More, its seventh full-length album and first in five years. The band surprise-dropped the full album digitally on 06 May 2022, with the CD and Deluxe 180gram LP editions hitting stores on official release date 26 August 2022. Following an acclaimed run of mid-career records on Constellation through the 2010s_the last three of which have all been finalists or winners of Juno Awards for Instrumental Album of the Year and/or Album Packaging of the Year_Esmerine began working on new music at decade's end. Under the auspices of a grant from the Canada Council for the Arts, and a summer 2019 residency at Le Château de Monthelon (an artist commune in France where the band has cherished long-standing spiritual, creative, and personal connections), compositional seeds were planted_and then pandemic rooted everyone in place. In between lockdown waves, at the respective rural Québec homesteads of Cawdron and Foon, longtime co-producer Jace Lasek (The Bernard Lakes) began capturing the band in various stripped-down configurations with spartan remote equipment. More fulsome arrangement and overdub sessions at Foon's converted barn during the summer of 2021 brought the album to full fruition_where a notable increase in the use of acoustic piano also poured forth, with just about every band member having a go. The record also signals the definitive integration of bassist Philippe Charbonneau_having joined Esmerine as a touring member pre-pandemic, he plays throughout the album on upright and electric bass, with turns on piano and synth, as well as sound design contributions via tape echo and other processing. Everything Was Forever Until It Was No More grapples with the existential tensions between atmosphere and airlessness, seclusion and claustrophobia, forbearance and coalescence. In many ways it is one of Esmerine's most restrained records. Only a few passages are driven by full percussion. There is palpably less Sturm and Drang or overt crescendos compared to its recent predecessors. The new album roils with a different sort of dynamic intensity, where instrumental densities ebb and flow within an overtonal centre, melding into each other with gauzy timbral warmth, sometimes tracing fleeting tendrils outwards, but always rotating around a saturnine gravitational force. Everything Was Forever Until It Was No More is like a dark forest lit by a closely-orbiting opalescent planet; it could be the alternate score to Von Trier's Melancholia or Cormac McCarthy's The Road.

New pressing of 500 on black vinyl with download. “Dub Housing" appears harsh, impenetrable and repellent... it seems to be working on some hidden internal logic, from some parallel (and disquieting) universe. On subsequent listens, the "logic," if indeed the tapping of the subconscious and intuition can be called "logic," becomes clearer; the album remains baffling, infuriating, haunting, menacing and ferociously funny...” Jon Savage, Melody Maker / “A voyage into unchartered space. Unfathomable, inscrutable, unmissable” Uncut / Pere Ubu reissue their second album ‘Dub Housing’ on Fire Records. Originally released in 1978, the same year as their debut ‘The Modern Dance’, Pere Ubu continue to tear up the rule book, chew it up and spit it out with glorious splendour. Mesmerising critics, fans and musicians along the way, their follow up has been repeatedly regarded as one of their best and captures Pere Ubu in one of their earliest incarnations. ‘Dub Housing’s assaultive noises and melodic rock still annihilates the senses setting Pere Ubu apart from their peers with vision and an inimitable ability to push boundaries. For this reworking, Paul Hamann at Suma has transferred from the original 2-track analogue mix tapes to digital at the highest resolution available, which is at least four times the resolution of the original. The tracks have carefully been re-mastered by sonic architect Brian Pyle so as to capture the unique qualities within.

The Belgians pimp their fourth album's psychedelic pop with disco funk and there fore groove somewhere between TAME IMPALA and PARCELS.On Movements, the Brussels-based rock quintet Great Mountain Fire lavishly enriches its infectious indie-pop songs with soul grooves. The lively sound and dexterous ensemble dance away our inarticulate sense of disquiet. The laidback funky rhythms, often combined with playful falsetto voices, bring out the dextrous ensemble as much as possible. The band discovered Sly & the Family Stone, Larry Graham. the afro rhythms David Byrne famously tried to embrace in his works, Marvin Gaye and "Strawberry Letter 23", a 1971 song by soul singer Shuggie Otis. Still it's an indie-guitar vibe that's ride GREAT MOUNTAIN FIRE.

Superb USN !!! Speedcore, even some Noise and a few Gabba...

Must Have :)

Lasse Marhaug is one of those characters that operates at the nexus of so much stuff that’s important to us here - working as a producer (over the last couple of years alone he’s helped shape albums by Jenny Hval, Kelly Lee Owens, Okkyung Lee, Hillary Woods etc etc), a mastering engineer (far too many releases to mention), a prolific sleeve designer (likewise), publisher (his occasional Personal Best magazine is still going strong) and, perhaps most importantly - a recording artist in his own right. ‘Context’ is his most substantial release in years - a crushing assembly of bone-dry/darkside drone/machine malfunctions that’s bursting with a visceral, throbbing, mass of feeling. If yr into anything on the spectrum from Mika Vainio to Grouper to Kevin Drumm or Deathprod - this one’s as good as it gets

Over almost three decades of activity, Marhaug has carved out notoriety as a solo performer, a prolific collaborator (working with everyone from Sunn O))) to Jim O'Rourke) and as a busy producer, who's notched up credits on some of the most striking-sounding albums of the last few years. This new album was created as a swan song for the infamous Oslo studio that he's inhabited for 17 years, prior to his move back to the Arctic Circle where he originally came from. Recorded over a 14-month period and painstakingly edited from hours upon hours of material, it might just be the most impressive, moving record we’ve heard from him so far.

The interplay between piercing softness and deafening noise is the key to "Context", displaying a philosophy Marhaug has been exploring for years. Few other artists are able to balance chaos and harmony with such ease; Marhaug does it without grandstanding, it's music that sounds as simultaneously beautiful and as daunting as the Arctic landscape he's returning to. At any moment a sound can be alluring or treacherous, like the frozen sun reflecting on a snowy mountaintop. Marhaug's deftness with rhythm and bass emerges on 'Context 3', as he pairs Vainio-esque low-end pulses with crumpled noise and widescreen tones; as disquieting music-box chimes absorbed into the blasted soundscape on 'Context 5', while we're thrust into the freezing cold on 'Context 6', subjected to punctuating gusts of white noise and trapped string loops.

Trust it’s a rare and near-mythical beast, conjuring vast, treacherous soundscapes illuminated with pangs of sentiment that naturally weave strands of his non-musical practice in their psychosensual lustre and gritty attrition. As he steps into a new phase of his career, we're left with a concluding chapter that stands as a summation and open-ended post-credits reveal.

"Insane and heavy beats by the og don Pixelord featuring great remixes by an all-star line-up comprising Dj Ride, Dj Pound, Starkey and Dranq!

Like a lightning bolt in the middle of a dark sea, PIXELORD has returned once again from the frozen lands to shock and disquiet the tides of Futuristic Bass Music. Perhaps the best thing about Russian electronic music godfather Alexey Devyanin's PIXELORD project returning to SATURATE! for this "Demonslayer" release is not simply the exciting and hard-hitting beats contained within, but the simple fact that it shall be offered on delicious, glorious VINYL. An artifact for all time, perhaps to be found in future wastelands by those who would consider this "Demonslayer" to be the VanHelsing (or perhaps Trevor Belmont) of the 21st century bass music scene.

The last decade has seen PIXELORD riding the wave of forward-thinking bass music, and always staying at the crest, and 2020 is no different. "Doomguy" comes tearing straight in with menacing, distorted synth weaponry, assaulting with ballistic beats (even some nods to Junglism) until finally bestowing some glittering melody atop the fray, showing that not only is Alexey an elder-statesman of the genre, he's still the eager bass monster that explores his own depths. The depths are again evident in "Pain Elemental" where the vibe is established immediately, and only delves deeper into the slightly-detuned bass signals and ominous creeping atmosphere. The melodic elements are no longer here to sooth, they are newly charged laser beams that sear the flesh, scorching the eardrums.

This foreboding, demon-dispatching vibe is indeed present throughout this entire release, as you enter the "Bonus Stage" of this deadly game, where the aggression does not abate, and the bass plays backseat to the synth bell sonic geometry on display. The drums especially feel the wrath of PIXELORD on this track, where some impossibly tortured tambourines take a beating, and the chopping and relentless reorganization of the rhythm keeps you churning with intensity. The title track brings the "wild style", even though the drums are less frantic, the bass frequencies and laser blasts from our protagonist, the ever-ready "Demonslayer", are sure to dismantle any submissive subwoofer in range.

"BFG" rounds out this collection in a disheveled fashion, dishing out low frequency divebombs and squelches, whilst otherworldly transmissions from synth realms afar come leaping in trying to assert their dominance, only to be eaten alive by daemonic bass and telluric currents of seismic drum activity. An utterly destructive end to this tale… BUT WAIT, IT GETS WORSE! We have here on hand SATURATE! stalwarts DJ Ride, DJ Pound, DRANQ and big daddy STARKEY on remix duty, who all take the tracks down their own rabbit holes to parts unknown, with equal aplomb. The result is equal in intensity and aggression, but the textures by which this is conveyed are wholly transformed and re-imagined skillfully.

All this on one slab of gorgeous VINYL. No demon shall stand a chance against PIXELORD's battalion of beats and bass."

Translation Loss is excited to announce the vinyl reissue of Drouth's
stunning debut record “Knives, Labyrinths, Mirrors”

Featuring all new artwork courtesy of Drouth's frontman Matt Stikker (Power Trip, Witch Vomit, Outer Heaven), “Knives, Labyrinths, Mirrors” finally sees a proper vinyl release and its hybrid blackened-death spectrum has never been presented in a more stunning manner.

Dear is Pauwel's big step forward. His debut album on Unday (due April 2020) is a mature collection of songs about loss in all its different facets. Pauwel openly confronts his demons, without ever losing sight of the essence: rock-solid and captivating folk songs between hope and despair, comforting and disquieting at the same time. Dear turns out a record to cherish and completely disappear into.

Shortly after Pauwel finished his previous EP, his mother passed away. A few weeks later, Europe went into lockdown for a second time. Pauwel wanted to cope with this turbulent episode on his debut on Unday Records, but the isolation during the pandemic only cast more doubts. During the darkest winter months, the 31-year-old songwriter realized that loss comes in many guises: lovers come to leave, suddenly leave or turn out to have become strangers. "Dear" is the account of this dark period in Pauwel's life. A reckoning with all the bad that happened to him and his peers. It is also a bridge to whatever comes next, a hopeful glance at the future.

On 'Dear', Pauwel expands his musical universe considerably, without losing his characteristic melancholy and distinctive voice. With the help of musicians Sander Smeets, Koen De Gendt and David Broeders - his new backing band - the rough folk diamonds were polished into mature songs. The stunning voice of Catherine Smet (aka Bluai) serves as a comforting echo on a handful of songs.
"Dear" was recorded at three different locations by producer Bert Vliegen (Whispering Sons, Sophia). The opening track "Murderer" and the haunting "Bones" were created in a hut in Walcourt. The bulk of the record was recorded during an intense week at the GAM Studio in Waimes. While the TV news showed apocalyptic images of the floods in the province of Liège around the clock, Pauwel and his band finished the songs. Rich, spacy arrangements ("Lazy"), rambling country-rockers ("Deer" & "Sister") or a tearful one-taker on Fender Rhodes ("Mother"): during this session "Dear" finally came together.

Gathering sounds from the experimental frontiers and outer edges of electronic music, Stellate 3 collects together Kangding Ray, NSI, Xhin and Reformed Faction's visions. The polished tracks are layered to the -nth degree, filled with minute details and whispered asides. These productions use an array of analogue machines and the most cunning digital means to vividly render disquieting questions.

Hot on the heels of his preliminary EP on Stroboscopic Artefacts, Embryo, which paved the way to the present album, and two years after the landing of his 2016-released inaugural LP, Montagne Trasparenti, Mannequin helmsman Alessandro Adriani returns with his highly anticipated full-length debut for SA, Morphic Dreams. Throughout eleven cuts painstakingly executed but lacking not an iota of the fresh, spontaneous oomph that made his sound stand out of the crowd of techno producers to have emerged over the past decade, Adriani lays the foundations to a suspended sound imaginarium, governed by its own rules and principles of gravity. Revolving around the notions of sublimation and quest for inner balance, Morphic Dreams is comprised of four distinct sequences, conceived and designed as reflections of four mental states, each of them linked to the four alchemical elements i.e. Water, Earth, Air and Fire here represented by the A, B, C and D-sides. Fluid and enveloping, the A-side bathes the listener in some zero-G uterine vortex, pitching and rolling from the slo-burning exotic sensuality and tribal spell of The Tropical Year to the trunk-bending, arpeggiated fast-track pulse of Storm Trees, through Raindances feverish electro swing. Entering a further abrasive, minerally rich phase, the B-side unleashes Adrianis dark side with optimum conviction. Deeply anchored in earthly materiality, this new evolution stage starts off to the frantic Italo bass of Dissolving Images, rushing headlong into a kaleidoscopic maelstrom of fractured reflections and nasty Giallo-like ambience. The delirious body stretch sequence then rather abruptly swerves onto a calmer flux with Dust/Mist, a much enticingly hip-swaying collaboration with Simon Crab, ex-member of the seminal 80s UK industrial-experimental band Bourbonese Qualk, before Casting The Runes engulfs us into a tormented world of swollen eeriness and disquieting esoterism. Back to a widescreen showcase of droney distortions, nasty acid swashes and other quirky drum programming, Hors De Combat opens a new chapter, shortly followed by the playful bass intricacies and modular jeu-de-piste of Invisible Seekers, featuring Avian affiliate and longtime friend Shawn OSullivan. A further mind-expanding piece, C-side closer Crow deploys its blackened wings wide and high as a chaos of martial percussions and liquefying synths slivers crash past the red-hot skyline. A fluttering melodic interlude, Things About To Disappear blazes a clean trail for Make Words Split And Crack to flourish, slowly but surely blooming into a nonstop grandiose twelve minute-shy finale geared up with the stirring cacophonic force of a Ligetian symphony and something of an epic-scale Kubrickian soundtrack.

he 20th milestone release in the Generation Series lineup, this 5-LP abridged set features 82 tracks that play in the first half of Shenmue III, which takes place in Bailu Village. Comes in a top lid box (similar to recent Generation Series releases from Brave Wave) with liner notes, archival artwork and a digital download code for all 196 tracks.

Songs touch on loss, flaws, hiding places, love. Deep connections to the Bay Area, and
the North Coast, with its unique moods of solitude, beauty, and isolation—a place described and transformed by the chaos and power of river-mouth, wild maritime storms, columns of mist that rise up unexpectedly on the road at night. Portions were recorded on Mount
Tamalpais during a self-made residency years back, other pieces made longer ago in Portland, while the rest were tracked during more recent sessions in Astoria.
Throughout, Harris threads a hidden radiant language of voice, disquiet, and guitar, framed by open space and the sense of being far away.
Echoing a lighthouse, burying the faults of being human / Into things that we project upon the sky at night.

LP + DVD

Factory Benelux presents a 180gm vinyl edition of The Invisible Girls, a collection of rare lost studio recordings by legendary new wave production duo Martin Hannett and Steve Hopkins (aka The Invisible Girls).

The album has been newly remastered by Peter Beckmann at TechnologyWorks and is pressed on 180gsm black vinyl. The outer sleeve is printed in black with a silver pantone. The inner bag includes detailed liner notes by Steve Hopkins, as well as archive TIG and Strawberry images.

Martin ‘Zero’ Hannett is the legendary Manchester producer famous for his work with Joy Division, Buzzcocks, New Order, Magazine and Happy Mondays. Steve Hopkins was his musical partner in The Invisible Girls, a floating studio collective which shaped epochal records by John Cooper Clarke, Pauline Murray, Nico and several others.

The first five tracks on the album are a selection of previously unreleased demos (‘moods’) recorded at the famous Strawberry Studios between 1980 and 1987. “These were the beginnings of Martin’s Invisible Girls world domination plan,” ace arranger Hopkins explains. “The idea was to assemble a roster of key instrumental players, produce tracks to be fronted by different singers/stars - and get some hits!”

Also included are 3 Hannett solo pieces recorded in 1978 and 1979, with the deluxe package rounded off by a DVD featuring a remarkable 13 minute trio improvisation by Hannett, Hopkins and Vini Reilly of The Durutti Column, recorded for television in January 1980.

Praise for FBN 65: ‘This store room grab conjures Manchester’s scarred wastelands, jazz-funky library music and ambient disquiet. Blade Runner via the Arndale Centre. A strange wayward collection, just like the thought processes of Hannett’s brain’ (Mojo)

‘Lovingly annotated, these effortlessly melodic backdrops offer a glimpse into what could have been as a post-punk one-stop-shop Chic’ (Q); ‘Captivating’ (Classic Pop); ‘The Nelson Riddle of narcotic rock’ (The Wire)

Audiophile 180glp pressing includes eight 12"x12" art print reproductions of analog film stills by renowned experimental filmmaker Daïchi Saïto. The first purely solo record by Jason Sharp - where every sound is created by his saxophone, breath, heartbeat & modular synthesis rig. Sharp's customized electroacoustic biofeedback system utilizes a heart monitor to turn his pulse into signal & tempo responsively synthesized in real time during peformance & recording. Produced by Radwan Ghazi Moumneh (MATANA ROBERTS, SUUNS, BIG | BRAVE, ERIC CHENAUX, JERUSALEM IN MY HEART). For Fans of Fennesz, Christina Vantzou, Tim Hecker, Klaus Schulze, Ben Frost, Gas, Windy & Carl, Colin Stetson. Montréal saxophonist and electroacoustic composer Jason Sharp presents his third album on Constellation. The Turning Centre Of A Still World is Sharp's first purely solo record and his most lucid, poignant, integral work to date. Following two acclaimed albums composed around particular collaborators and guest players, Sharp conceived his third as an interplay strictly bounded by his own body, his acoustic instrument, and his evolving bespoke electronic system. The Turning Centre... is a singular sonic exploration of human machine calibration, interaction, expression and biofeedback. Using saxophones, foot-controlled bass pedals, and his own pulse - patched through a heart monitor routed to variegated signal paths that trigger modular synthesizers and samplers - Sharp paints with organic waves of glistening synthesis, pink noise and digitalia. Melodic strokes and harmonic shapes ripple and crest across ever-shifting seas, through an inclement cycle from dawn to dusk. The album's six main movements navigate a world where placid surfaces are always roiled and disquieted by a deeper inexorable gyre: the gravitational pull and tidal perpetuity of our bodies made of water, buffeted by terrestrial atmospheric pressures, wrung out by emotions, coursing with blood, sustained by breath, inescapably yearning for and returning to ground again and again. Sharp's heartbeat literally courses through these compositions - while only occasionally surfacing as a clearly audible pulse or rhythm, it physically feeds into a spectrum of generative synthetic processes that help constitute and conduct the music.

A Colourful Storm presents Seance, a new set of songs by Maxine Funke.

Following a productive recording period beginning with Silk (2018) and ending with Forest Photographer (2020), Seance marks a remarkable levitation of Funke’s tender, softly spoken songcraft first documented on Lace (2008) and Felt (2012) into new creative heights. Folksong confessionals with the burden of memory. Ghostly confines, murmurs from the cracks. Soil, blood and skin. The beauty and mundanity of the everyday.

The voice of Funke is a distinctive instrument, one which perfectly elucidates her sometimes confessional, at other times deeply inward allusions to love, loss, joy and disquiet. Lyrics grounded in observation and adventure (“Eyeballs, asphalt, grass clippings, peppercorns”) unravel into uneasy truths daubed in self-consciousness and forbidden desire (“I’m not shy / There's just a sparkle in your eye and I don't feel right”). The simplest things can be the most difficult to express.

Opener ’Fairy Baby’ and ‘Homage’ are sensuous and probing, celebrating new beginnings while cautiously closing old chapters. ‘Quiet Shore’, a seven-minute reverie of guitar strum and poetry, conjures spirits long forgotten and shines as Funke’s first solo foray into longform songwriting. A perfect accompaniment to the album’s centrepiece, ‘Lucky Penny’, a euphoric, entrancing rush foreshadowing the delicate dreamspeak still to come.

An assertive, visionary recording by one of New Zealand’s most extraordinary voices, Seance is a lover’s lament, a revealing of self and a secluded wander through fields of enchantment.

‘The Woman You Want’ is Eliza’s 2nd album to be released on July 16th the same day as the single ‘Fine & Peachy’ with a firm nod to the female greats of the 90s is a solid guitar/bass/drums indie classic in the making. Eliza’s vocal oozes a sardonic disquiet that immerses the listener into her fury culminating in an almost evangelical middle 8. The campaign so far has had support from Radio 1, 6 Music, BBC Intro, BBC Scotland, The Times, The Independent & Clash. 12 date UK tour is on sale for November and a major live event will go live on Sky Arts 15.7.21 ‘The real deal’ Guy Garvey (Elbow) BBC 6 Music. Available on CD and 'bottled green' vinyl formats.

Color Vinyl
Musica Elettronica Viva, or MEV for short, was formed in 1966 in Rome by Allan Bryant, Alvin Curran, Jon Phetteplace, Carol Plantamura, Frederic Rzweski, Richard Teitelbaum and Ivan Vandor. From the very beginning the group was based on musical freedom and the shunning of convention. Using contact microphones to record and manipulate sound wherever it could be found – from box springs to vibrators – and improvisationally combining those recordings with tenor sax, homemade synths and the very first Moog to trek cross the Atlantic, MEV made some of the most imaginative and abrasive sounds of the time.

Recorded in live performance at the Academy of Arts (Akademie der Künste) in Berlin on October 5, 1967, Spacecraft is made up of a single piece of the same name – a slow building, jarring and disquieting work that reveals the entire MEV ethos in its lone half hour. As group member Alvin Curran put it “The music could go anywhere, gliding into self-regenerating unity or lurching into irrevocable chaos - both were valuable goals. In the general euphoria of the times, MEV thought it had re-invented music; in any case it had certainly rediscovered it.” Our Swimmer is pleased to present this first ever vinyl issue of MEV’s Spacecraft, an early piece from the most free-spirited group of the 20th century avant-garde.

Debut solo album by the Red River Dialect songwriter. Recorded at the Hotel2Tango, Montreal, by Howard Bilerman. Featuring Thor Harris (Swans, Thor & Friends, Shearwater) on drums and Thierry Amar (GYBE!, ASMZ) on bass, with guest appearances from Tom Relleen (RIP) (Tomaga, Melos Kalpa), Catrin Vincent (Another Sky) and Coral Rose (The Silver Field, Red River Dialect).
David has written five critically acclaimed collections of songs under the Red River Dialect name. The last two albums (released by Paradise of Bachelors) achieved a glowing Pitchfork review and a Folk Album of the Month award from the Guardian. Selected press below.
“Folk Album of the Month. Alert, anti-colonialist folk. Songwriter David Morris brings alternate seduction and disquiet on this worldly album steeped in the British landscape... a wide-eyed, curious creature, willingly alert to the world.” – 4/5 The Guardian
“Animated with a new intensity, the Cornwall band’s fifth album may be its most ingenious and immersive mix of folk and rock yet. It’s also Morris’ most compelling set of songs. He invests small sensations with outsize power, finding joy in sensory pleasures as well as in the mystical inquests that music allows. Even as the record is steeped in the long history of British folk music, that balance of the tactile and the spiritual anchors these songs in the present moment.” – Pitchfork
“The most underrated folk-rock band in Britain. The idea of them as a Cornish-born, Buddhist-inclined Waterboys is more potent than ever. Their fifth album of elementally-battered, rueful and rousing folk-rock ... is as stirringly anthemic as they've managed thus far.” – MOJO
“A beguilingly atmospheric record… imagine Steve Gunn transplanted to Kernow.” – Clash
“Gorgeous and moving, anchored by the heft of the physical but reaching for more. The epic spareness, the way it manages to be both still and an enveloping swirl, reminds me most of Talk Talk. There’s a prayerful intensity to the quiet bits, a listening, wondering awe, that makes the rock payoffs more powerful. The album works as a restless, searching, gorgeous whole. Morris and his band have never been better.” – Dusted
“It’s not often that a band comes along and over the course of nine songs both plays to the tradition and stands it on its ear. RRD has taken the challenge of playing with reckless abandon to heart, generating an album that stands on the shoulder of giants showing no fear.” Folk Radio

Monastic Love Songs continues the tradition that David has established over the course of five albums with Red River Dialect: using a song cycle to articulate a relationship with inner and outer landscapes, inspired by the Taoist approach of observing the movement of the heavens in order to understand the cosmos within, and vice versa. The joyful closing track Inner Smile was initially written as a poem of thanks to his Tai Chi teacher Hollis and takes its name from a Taoist practice.
The songs were written during the final weeks of a nine-month retreat at Gampo Abbey, a Buddhist monastery in Nova Scotia where David took ordination as Buddhist monk. The album title is sincere, with a little tongue-in-cheek. The songs mostly explore human relationships within the community, with outliers: Gone Beyond shimmers with cosmic devotion, in Rhododendron a reverie grows from the shadow of a flower. Steadfast concerns the love to be found beyond the urge to like and be liked, when you can’t avoid that difficult person. Leonard Cohen, on his six years living in a monastery:
“You know, there’s a Zen saying: ‘Like pebbles in a bag, the monks polish one another.’
David considers this album to be a follow up to 2015’s Tender Gold and Gentle Blue. The cover of that lp featured an image of him on top of Skellig Michael, in the years before the island was made famous as the home of the Jedi. He considers the visit to that abandoned Celtic monastic site to be one of the influences that stirred up his motivation. Skeleton Key speaks of what was given up to go, and what he was giving up to leave, referencing the Tibetan concept of the ‘bardo of becoming’.
The album came about through a series of fortunate encounters. David’s friend Tom Relleen visited him at the Abbey in May 2019, mentioning a postponed plan to visit the Hotel2Tango. A spark was sown: this studio had long figured in David’s imagination. Many of the releases on Constellation Records, which he had become a die-hard fan of in his teens, were recorded there. Tom contributed some Buchla synthesizer to the opener New Safe, which concerns healing in emptiness and light.
In May David was given permission by the senior monastics to acquire a guitar, which was swiftly baptised as “Malibu Barbie”. Having let the identity of being a songwriter loosen up, not playing an instrument in six months, he was unsure what would happen. In the single hour he was permitted to practice each day, songs began to cascade. The first, Purple Gold, concerns a reacquaintance with first love. David wrote to the Hotel2Tango asking if they had any days available in mid-July?
Engineer and studio co-owner Howard Bilerman replied that they did, and a date was set. Did Howard know any local drummers or bass players who might do a session? He did, too many to choose from, what kind of style? David decided to ask for his ideal: did Thierry from Godspeed ever do sessions? Howard sent him the demos. Thierry was up for it. On the day he went deep into the cover of traditional song Rosemary Lane, his double bass singing on this and on Circus Wagon.
David asked if there were any local drummers he would recommend? Thierry said “many, what style?” David tried his luck again, “two of my favourite drummers are Thor Harris and Jim White.” Thierry said let’s invite them. Thor, having met David a decade earlier, flew from Austin to Montreal for that July day in the studio. Nine months of watching thoughts come and go in meditation helped David recognise this as an opportunity to practice enjoying the day without expectations.
He is, however, grateful that this album came out the way it did, channelling some of what it was like to live those nine months in a monastery overlooking the Gulf of St Lawrence, frozen and flowing.

Mixed by Jimmy Robertson at SNAFU, London, mastered by DenisBlackham.

The Copenhagen-based, Scottish-born composer Clarissa Connelly’s music is evocative of the whimsical and almost child-like, tainted by an undercurrent of dark sensuality, disquietude and existential dread. Characterized by complex arrangements, big compounded chords, as well as a broad array of instruments, effects and sounds, her songs orient the listener towards utopian beauty that lie somewhere between the baroque and the primordial. With an experimental approach to vocal techniques, her voice can manifest benevolent fay-like creatures as easily as banshees and maleficent spirits singing melodies that retain the accessibility typically associated with pop-music. The compositions are lyrically and aesthetically grounded in Celtic folklore and Scandinavian vitalism. The threshold between the mundane and the fantastical are accentuated in her work, in such a way that the pursuit for – and the ability to recognize – real beauty in the world become anchored in the realm of work, everyday anxiety, motivation, human brilliance and failure.

With forthcoming album The Voyager, Connelly sets out to not only to study the relationship between nature and music, but also its relationship with time. She says: “I’ve always been especially excited about times in the north before Christianity came, and how the Pagan culture and Christianity became intertwined in people through rituals and formations in the landscape - burial mounds, passage graves, dolmens, etc.” She continues: “In some way, it’s very difficult to translate nature into an understandable movement of change. Looking at a mountain I often view a still picture of time – a moment right now – but sometimes, I can look at the mountain and see millions of years of change and movement. I believe that this point of view can be assisted by art and music. In a landscape ornamented with ruined Viking fortresses or ancient burial mounds, I find that I, for whatever reason, seem to be able to perceive time and comprehend history (the history of nature and culture) as a series of changes in a more salient way.”It is here that The Voyager derives so much of its power. It roots itself in history, mythology, capable of intertwining and unravelling both past and present. Songs such as Holler and The Hills Are Crying – opening and closing tracks on the album, respectively – conjure images of these ancient Danish sites, offering something more than just a fluid, long-forgotten way, and instead a tangible reverie that can educate, engage and thrill in equal measure. Connelly explains: “I have the idea, that the mystical and fantastical nature of these olden barrows and ruins can kindle a more dynamic and historically informed perspective. I think that an understanding of time as a movement is articulated when looking at the landscape in this way and can maybe bring us out of our little bell jar, and into a greater experience of life as a whole.”

The Voyager is released in conjunction with an app Vandringen (released 27 september 2020), conceived and created by Clarissa Connelly - along with the contributions of 21 other Danish musicians, painters, sculptures, performers - which highlights special ancient Danish locations, not viewable on Google Maps. These locations are presented with local knowledge and a number of them are interpreted for the modern day by the creatives involved. Connelly concludes: “I am very eager to write music that sounds like something that is happening now but has also happened a very long time ago. I have always found it fascinating to view history through changes in the landscapes around us, and therefore I started created this app and wrote this album.”

Reuben Sawyer is nothing if not prolific. He's also a man of many talents - his various projects have included the coldwave sounds of The Column, Hollow Sunshine's blown-out psych-noise, Anytime Cowboy's take on countrified weirdo-pop, and even ambient house courtesy of Rose. Oh, and he's a visual artist too, of course. Pfft, who needs an attention span anyway? One thing he's also dabbled in, however, is post-punk. Human Trophy is firmly in line with that tradition, but pulling from multiple directions at once - one minute this album rattles along like Big Black with the tempo down and the textures dialled up, the next we're firmly in Christian Death territory. The twisting guitar lines and pummelling bass of 'Forming Horrors' even call to mind his blackened punk project Dry Insides, but with less velocity and a helluva lot more menace. Is 'Corpse Dream' a goth record? Possibly. Whether goth is a lifestyle choice for Sawyer or not, he's certainly adept at immersing himself in sounds and making them feel like a comfortable fit. As with all his projects, it feels like another effortless facet of Reuben Sawyer - and in keeping with the rest of his output, it's absolutely packed with songs you'll wanna play again and again. Penultimate track 'The Roads' is built on a none-more gloomy pile-up of darkly portentous rhythms and a firm sense of disquiet, but once you're locked into its circular riffage you'll feel an urge to keep the loop going endlessly. Then there's the closer 'Blood Apex', a dual-vocal nightmare set to music which draws you back in even as it attempts to push you away. Yeah, it's pretty great.

In 2019, the power-acoustic musician Francisco Meirino presented A New Instability a commission for the venerable Ina-GRM in paris. Of course, this institution is the pre-eminent center for the research and study of electro-acoustic music dating back to founding of Groupe de Recherches Musicales in 1958 by Pierre Schaeffer. To this day, Ina-GRM continues to be at the vangarde of the electro-acoustic composition, and it is quite an accomplishment and very appropriate for Meirino to receive such a commission.

This recording for A New Instability condenses the 32-channel original piece down to a still very active stereo version. here, Meirino continues to amplify and refine his compositions that walk a fine tightrope between raw expressivity of brutalist noise and conceptual rigor of more academic pursuits. Such a work ranks him in with the likes of Zbigniew Karkowski, Dave Phillips, Puce Mary, and Illusion Of Safety.

Field recordings from a kendo dojo in his hometown of Lausanne, Switzerland cast a pugilistic, combative arch to these recordings which snap, burst, explode, and erupt with utterances of men and women engaged in hand-to-hand combat. Searing frequencies build, swarm, and amass out of these episodes rise to psychologically tense crescendo that rupture at their heights, quickly turning attention towards a violence that originates from within. It is as if the objective observations of those martial arts recordings are sublimated within a subjective experience of psychic unease, disquiet, and imbalance.

A New Instability is another magnificent chapter in the ongoing body of work for this accomplished composer of electro-acoustic noise.