Cerca:disquiet

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.