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Hippotraktor, the progressive metal band from Belgium, combining the best of prog, groove and post-metal return with new album! Wmerging from Mechelen, Belgium, to the joy of ear-splitters and deep-feelers of post rock, Hippotraktor release their third studio album Annihilist. "A good blend between the vibes of Meridian and the technicality of Stasis." (Verheyden), that exhibits once again the band's ability to balance crushing physicality with emotional nuance, whilst pushing further into highly cultivated experimentation. For Hippotraktor, immense sonic weight coexists with remarkable clarity and depth, and through the many shifting passages and moments Annihilist becomes a journey of awe, dissolution, melancholia and rampaging power. At the heart of this album is a sense of collective inspiration. Verheyden's compositional vision provides the framework for music that is both intricate and instinctive, yet Hippotraktor's identity is forged through the dialogue between all five musicians. Although often associated with progressive metal, post-metal and sludge, Hippotraktor resist classification. Their music draws freely from multiple traditions while remaining unmistakably their own, blending rhythmic complexity, cinematic atmosphere and deeply human expression into a sound that feels both expansive and immediate. As an album Annihilist is not only gripping in every moment and turn, but their balance of the intimate and titanic feels deceptively effortless; a testament to their galvanised abilities. FOR FANS OF Psychonaut Mershuggah Dvne Vola The Ocean Hypno5e Sikasa Blackshape

Nonclassical are proud to release Nneka Cummins’ Ivor Classical Award-winning finding gills (when they try to drown you), pairing the original orchestral work with its remix, finding gills realms and possibilities.

Originally commissioned and composed during Nneka’s time on nonclassical’s Artist in Residence programme and premiered by Sinfonia Smith Square in 2025, the work marks their first large-scale exploration of fixed electronics alongside chamber orchestra. Built entirely from its source material, the remix dissolves the perceived sacredness and permanence of orchestral music, stretching, warping and reassembling its fragments into a fluid electronic form.

Drawing on fragments of earlier compositions, Finding Gills embodies both destruction and creation, embracing the spirit of metamorphosis. Inviting the listener to sit in moments of dissonant discomfort and distress, an emerging sense of hope gradually reveals itself through radiant strings and spiralling melodies. Hinting at a sense of tiredness that is continually renewed, sparks of new life blossom within a shifting orchestral landscape where memory, experimentation and survival coexist.

The title alludes to the Afrofuturist mythology of Drexciya, imagined by Detroit duo James Stinson and Gerald Donald, in which the descendants of pregnant African women who were thrown overboard during the transatlantic slave trade adapted to breathe underwater, creating a new civilisation beneath the sea. Nneka draws on this subtle reference as they are inspired by the deep creative alchemy of transforming horror into vibrant and powerful myth.

Three years following the critically acclaimed "A Journey told through Fire" (2023), the new album navigates a sprawling conceptual narrative, tracing the cyclical nature of the cosmos from its initial spark in the void to its inevitable dissolution. Lyrically, the album explores the terrifying scale of cosmic darkness and the fragility of existence within a primordial emptiness. Sworn investigates the philosophy of becoming and unmaking, where reality and time emerge from nothingness only to eventually collapse back into the same unfathomable origin. Musically, "Null Crowned the Infinite" pushes the boundaries of the band's established sound, balancing their signature melodic tension with newfound levels of aggression and atmospheric depth. The record features "The Starless Origin", a twelve-minute epic that stands as their longest composition to date, alongside " Fracture of Aeons ", which the band identifies as their most aggressive track ever recorded. Sworn collaborated with renowned producer Jens Bogren at Fascination Street Studios , who handled the mixing and mastering. Bogren's legendary portfolio, featuring giants such as Opeth, Arch Enemy and Behemoth, brings a polished yet devastating edge to the performances of Max Wilson, Christoffer Kjorsvik, Goran Hope and Tom Ian Klungland. The album artwork is equally striking, created by Par Olofsson, known for his iconic work with Aborted and Kreator.

Three years following the critically acclaimed "A Journey told through Fire" (2023), the new album navigates a sprawling conceptual narrative, tracing the cyclical nature of the cosmos from its initial spark in the void to its inevitable dissolution. Lyrically, the album explores the terrifying scale of cosmic darkness and the fragility of existence within a primordial emptiness. Sworn investigates the philosophy of becoming and unmaking, where reality and time emerge from nothingness only to eventually collapse back into the same unfathomable origin. Musically, "Null Crowned the Infinite" pushes the boundaries of the band's established sound, balancing their signature melodic tension with newfound levels of aggression and atmospheric depth. The record features "The Starless Origin", a twelve-minute epic that stands as their longest composition to date, alongside " Fracture of Aeons ", which the band identifies as their most aggressive track ever recorded. Sworn collaborated with renowned producer Jens Bogren at Fascination Street Studios , who handled the mixing and mastering. Bogren's legendary portfolio, featuring giants such as Opeth, Arch Enemy and Behemoth, brings a polished yet devastating edge to the performances of Max Wilson, Christoffer Kjorsvik, Goran Hope and Tom Ian Klungland. The album artwork is equally striking, created by Par Olofsson, known for his iconic work with Aborted and Kreator.

Love is not soft.
It was never meant to be. It sweats, it pulses, it burns through skin.
It lives in the space between bodies. In friction, in tension, in heat that doesn’t ask for permission. LOVE AS A PHYSICAL FORCE is not about romance as an idea, but as an experience.
Something you feel at 5AM, when the night has already taken everything from you, and still asks for more. Across four tracks, DJ Hermano moves between intimacy and impact.
From the longing of Vem pro meu amor to the rupture of No encontrarte nunca mas, love reveals itself as contradiction:

tender and aggressive, distant and consuming. The collaboration with Cuerpos brings a raw edge. Where visceral collides with desire.
Voices don’t just sing; they confront, they provoke, they touch. On the B-side, the body takes over.

Friction Lovers and Desire and Heatwave at 5AM dissolve the emotional into the physical.

Where connection happens through movement, sweat, repetition. This is not love you write about.
This is love you survive. A record for the late-night moments, between the club and sleep.
For the moments where the line between pleasure and exhaustion disappears.
For when desire becomes the only language left. Love, here, is not a promise.
It’s a force.

Founded in Germany in 2019, CONSVMER. have spent the last few years carving out a space that’s entirely their own: progressive metal, beatdown, and metalcore delivered entirely in German, with an unflinching focus on subjects most people would rather look past. Their 2024 record Seelenfrieden turned heads inside and outside the German metal scene, with coverage from outlets including Nik Nocturnal and a collaboration with Paleface Swiss that confirmed the band were operating at a level far beyond their years. Live, they have earned their place on stages at Summer Breeze, Core Fest and Bembel X Core Festival. Now, with new vocalist Jacques Gronert and a vision sharpened to a point, CONSVMER. return with Abgrund.
Where Seelenfrieden refined the template, Abgrund dismantles it. Across eleven tracks the band push further into territory that feels genuinely unique and uncompromising: the title track opens the record on collective collapse and a society steering towards the edge with no intention of stopping, while songs like "Gier" tear into systemic greed and exploitation with brutal clarity, "Willenlos" descends into dissociation and the erasure of identity, and "Sucht" confronts addiction and self-destruction with a rawness that is hard to shake. Closer "Gottverlassen" leaves the listener exactly where the title suggests. The collaboration with brutal deathcore veterans Acranius on "Sucht" hits like a freight train, their English-language verses locking into CONSVMER.'s German delivery to devastating effect. Fellow German hardcore outfit DOGBITE also appear, adding another dimension to a record that never loses focus.

Montréal-based sound artist Steve Bates expands his strategies and stylistic influences on An Infinite Antenna, his second solo album for Constellation, giving freer reign to melodic components and textural dynamics: leftfield synth work, deconstructed drum machine, pointillist electric guitar, and radiostatic blur are all part of the new brew swirling around his bruitist signal-bending and field-recording sensibility. Arguably a more ambient album than his acclaimed 2022 Constellation debut, An Infinite Antenna is at the same time more densely packed with ideas, dynamics, evocations and earworms. Coming out of the anarcho-punk scene of the Canadian Prairies in the 1990s, Bates founded Winnipeg’s experimental sound festival Send + Receive in 1998 before moving to Montréal to become Sound Coordinator at Hexagram (Concordia University), delving further into sonic research and theory, tape-based composition, and installation work. Alongside the curatorial arc of his own sound art label The Dim Coast, Bates released several solo and collaborative albums on ORAL_records leading up to All The Things That Happen, the 2022 Constellation debut praised by Boomkat for its “grittily iridescent ambient billow rendering maximalist panoramas” and by Backseat Mafia as “extraordinary soundscapes of unstable, destructive cacophony and tender calm, echoes of the threat of power.” Where that album was noisier and single-minded, made with the self-imposed limit of a Casio SK-1, Bates plays more widely with instrumentation and atmospheres on An Infinite Antenna, also drawing on his post-hardcore roots in seeking a sort of track-by-track concision nonetheless driven by the album’s coherence as a seamless work. “I was trying to set durations I associate with punk rather than the longer, sprawling music coming from more ambient styles (that I very much love), and while I wasn’t able to quite pare it down to Minutemen durations, I had that reduction to essential elements as a sort of whisper over my shoulder.” Incorporating source recordings made throughout 2023-2025, including at artist residencies and site-specific sound installation visits in Bosnia and Herzegovina (the album’s cover photo was taken in Sarajevo), Austria, Greece, and Saskatchewan, An Infinite Antenna combines Bates’ “idea of slowly scanning a radio dial” with a soundworld of recurring timbral and textural touchstones that forge an integrated whole.

The album’s 12 tracks work effectively as stand-alone pieces, replete with shifting undercurrents, buried melody, and stuttering kinetics, and as a sequential flow where the brief interstitial silences between them are like short pauses to flip the next page in a sketchbook of perspectival studies of a wide but singular tableau. The glistening atonal synth expressionism of opener “Pink pink pink pink…pink pink” drifts gently toward submerged ambience, darkened by the noised rumble and static interference of “Green as a ghost”, which introduces broken beats and piano chords in its denouement. Tracks like “Battles and sieges and street trees” and “Easier sad than done” work the foundations of low-end field-recording resonance, but dappled with lovely melodic droplets of treated guitar and synth. “Waste, songs of the world” and “Disaster loans” are among the album’s most explicit stylistic references to posthardcore, with distorted ambient bass and gently abrasive drum sampling. Closing track “Swamps and factories”, the album’s longest piece, is perhaps most reminiscent of Bates’ previous record with its sustained dissonant glimmer-drone, but the journey An Infinite Antenna traces to get there is Bates at his most dynamic, diverse, distinctive, and engaging. Thanks for listening.

Montréal-based sound artist Steve Bates expands his strategies and stylistic influences on An Infinite Antenna, his second solo album for Constellation, giving freer reign to melodic components and textural dynamics: leftfield synth work, deconstructed drum machine, pointillist electric guitar, and radiostatic blur are all part of the new brew swirling around his bruitist signal-bending and field-recording sensibility. Arguably a more ambient album than his acclaimed 2022 Constellation debut, An Infinite Antenna is at the same time more densely packed with ideas, dynamics, evocations and earworms. Coming out of the anarcho-punk scene of the Canadian Prairies in the 1990s, Bates founded Winnipeg's experimental sound festival Send + Receive in 1998 before moving to Montréal to become Sound Coordinator at Hexagram (Concordia University), delving further into sonic research and theory, tape-based composition, and installation work. Alongside the curatorial arc of his own sound art label The Dim Coast, Bates released several solo and collaborative albums on ORAL_records leading up to All The Things That Happen, the 2022 Constellation debut praised by Boomkat for its "grittily iridescent ambient billow rendering maximalist panoramas" and by Backseat Mafia as "extraordinary soundscapes of unstable, destructive cacophony and tender calm, echoes of the threat of power." Where that album was noisier and single-minded, made with the self-imposed limit of a Casio SK-1, Bates plays more widely with instrumentation and atmospheres on An Infinite Antenna, also drawing on his post-hardcore roots in seeking a sort of track-by-track concision nonetheless driven by the album's coherence as a seamless work. "I was trying to set durations I associate with punk rather than the longer, sprawling music coming from more ambient styles (that I very much love), and while I wasn't able to quite pare it down to Minutemen durations, I had that reduction to essential elements as a sort of whisper over my shoulder." Incorporating source recordings made throughout 2023-2025, including at artist residencies and site-specific sound installation visits in Bosnia and Herzegovina (the album's cover photo was taken in Sarajevo), Austria, Greece, and Saskatchewan, An Infinite Antenna combines Bates' "idea of slowly scanning a radio dial" with a soundworld of recurring timbral and textural touchstones that forge an integrated whole. The album's 12 tracks work effectively as stand-alone pieces, replete with shifting undercurrents, buried melody, and stuttering kinetics, and as a sequential flow where the brief interstitial silences between them are like short pauses to flip the next page in a sketchbook of perspectival studies of a wide but singular tableau. The glistening atonal synth expressionism of opener 'Pink pink pink pink_pink pink' drifts gently toward submerged ambience, darkened by the noised rumble and static interference of 'Green as a ghost', which introduces broken beats and piano chords in its denouement. Tracks like 'Battles and sieges and street trees' and 'Easier sad than done' work the foundations of low-end field-recording resonance, but dappled with lovely melodic droplets of treated guitar and synth. 'Waste, songs of the world' and 'Disaster loans' are among the album's most explicit stylistic references to posthardcore, with distorted ambient bass and gently abrasive drum sampling. Closing track 'Swamps and factories,' the album's longest piece, is perhaps most reminiscent of Bates' previous record with its sustained dissonant glimmer-drone, but the journey An Infinite Antenna traces to get there is Bates at his most dynamic, diverse, distinctive, and engaging. Thanks for listening

Life Creates Itself is the new album by Bill Baird, releasing September 25th, 2026 on Royal Oakie Records. After years of restless wandering that took him from the Bay Area to India to Abbey Road and back again, Baird has returned home to San Antonio, Texas. Inspired by Lone Star legends Doug Sahm and Roky Erickson, the album inhabits a world where outsider country, avant-garde pop, and psychedelic folk dissolve into one.


Produced by longtime collaborator Jasper Leach (Tony Molina, Color Green) and mastered by indie-rock legend KRAMER (Galaxie 500, Daniel Johnston, Will Oldham), Life Creates Itself was recorded at Sear Sound in New York City in a single remarkable day — fitting for an album as indebted to Arthur Russell and Captain Beefheart as it is to Sir Douglas Quintet and Townes Van Zandt. The sessions brought together a constellation of collaborators around Baird and Leach, including Pedrum Siadatian (Allah-Las, PAINT), Phil Carluzzo, Austin Day, Oliver O'Haver, Jordan Johns, Michael Vattuone, Clara Kennedy, and Carluzzo’s dog Ernie.


Lead single "Yanaguana" — the original Payaya name for San Antonio, meaning either "land of many waters" or simply "where I am right now" — serves as a thesis statement for the album, a restless soul reckoning with what it means to finally come home. Meanwhile, "Karma Loan" is a fuzzy, sprawling psych track that spilled out of Baird during a deep immersion in Bach that features cello by Clara Kennedy and closes with a sound collage of spiritual gurus hawking easy paths to enlightenment. Then there's "Horse Moon" — built around pedal steel that shimmers like rays of moonlight, drifting through vignettes from a late night walk across New York City, with Pedrum Siadatian's lead guitar lending the whole thing an unhurried, dreaming quality. The night they tracked it, Baird climbed to the roof of Sear Sound and watched a full moon wash the city in a warm glow.


Baird has never sounded more at home, and Life Creates Itself may be his most cohesive record yet – a songwriter record through and through that stands apart from the rest of his discography. Royal Oakie Records is proud to release Life Creates Itself on September 25th, 2026, available on vinyl LP, CD, and digital download/streaming worldwide.

UFO95 returns to TSSRCT with a new four-track EP. Following the same path as his latest release, Dissolution, he delivers four powerful and minimalist tracks, built around a sharp focus on textures, tension and atmosphere. Timeless, contemporary, raw in its impact, subtle in its details, and designed to stand outside trends.

Tucked in the heart of Koreatown, Los Angeles, lies The Libra Hotel—the titular architecture of Nick Malkin's new album and site of his musical and psychogeographic exploration. Unlike most musical "site-specific" studies, Malkin remains wholly ambivalent to the documentarian approach, instead sharpening an auteur-like focus on the site as a conceptual and highly expressive backdrop. The Libra is musically explored as a space that houses a noir fragmentation of identity—the exhausted trope of a complicated protagonist walking through rain-soaked street corners and fumy neon lights—where an inner monologue is rendered in both miniature and at a cosmic scale. Casting aside stifling tropes around field recording, ambient, and improvised music, Malkin's work finds its own unique fidelity and emotional core through the assembly and reassembly of memory. Nearly every sound on the album—from frayed saxophones, lambent pianos, and dissected jazz drum kits—are multiplied, shattered, and reconstituted into shapes that adorn The Libra in a motion-blurred fog. The narrative of the Hotel suddenly appears as if out of the mist, with intersecting characters interacting within its walls by happenstance. Adminst the languid set pieces, wraith-like sonic grains gravitate around wide subbass beams that give structural form to The Libra, a narrative tension like when a scene is shot from hundreds of different perspectives: an image both luminous and veiled.

Much like Frank Sinatra's own spatial residency immortalized on "Live at The Sands," "At The Libra Hotel" showcases an exuberant view of entertainment, hospitality, and a form of masculinity, one that can quickly detourn into darkness. Knowing this, Malkin extracts a melancholic core out of The Libra locale. The flickering shadows of American decadence are shown in their ephemeral honesty, lines that trace how even in everyday life virtue is tested, sanity is tested, even reality is tested within the confines of desire, within the night. The album is draped in fleeting textures, carefully arranged with a trance-like microtonality, the faint inflections and articulations of a jazz band cascading into dissipated stillness. Voicemails about changed locations and covert eavesdropping on guests' whispered conversations provide an atmosphere of missed connection and voyeurism—a purloined letter of desire receding into a vanishing point. Like the music itself, The Hotel, a chapel perilous at the intersection of desolation row, the center of it all, yet simultaneously at the edge of town, becomes a structure between libidinous virtuality and actuality—our inevitable half-light.

Ultimately, the pensive atmosphere of "At The Libra Hotel," powerfully asserts a plea for the kinds of intimacy only possible in transient spaces. Here, memory cascades into a force that feels like something supernatural, perhaps even religious, yet always subject to the infidelity of our imagination. Here, the album opens into its primary psychodrama, the transient nature of subjectivity itself and how this becomes fractured in the tumult between our commitments and desires. Within this nocturnal space, to quote Louise Bourgeois, "you pile up associations the way you pile up bricks. Memory itself is a form of architecture."

The Bronx rapper Tim Dog released his 1991 debut Penicillin on Wax to a hostile audience. Ever a king of controversy, he made a million enemies with his provocative single "Fuck Compton," a shameless attention ploy dissing N.W.A., DJ Quik, and America's entire Pacific Coast. Penicillin on Wax contains more of the same, as Tim trashes everybody from Kwame to Michel'le to Eddie Murphy. The lyrical insults were arguably the opening salvo in what would later become the East Coast versus West Coast hip hop conflict.

There's no doubt that Penicillin On Wax remains one of the true hardcore hip hop classics and one of many landmarks in sounds from the Bronx. Produced by probably the best hip hop producers of the early 90s, the Ultramagnetic MC's, this album contains some of the most energetic tracks you'll ever hear. Guest appearances on the mic from Kool Keith and Ced-Gee also enhance the LP.

Penicillin On Wax is available on black vinyl and includes an insert.

K-LONE returns to Wisdom Teeth with “Have a few days off” - a mini-LP of vivid, 4K club music that seeks out precious moments of release in an increasingly restless world.

The record marks his first outing on the label since 2023’s Swells, and in that time - once again - the world has changed. Thousand acre data centres. Multirotor drones. These long hot summers. K-LONE’s music has always played with escapism, but this time the question is: can music and creativity continue to provide escape when the world gets too loud to block out?

Stylistically the record absorbs the full range of K-LONE’s key musical touchstones - from swinging minimal house through to autonomic d’n’b and drifting ambient techno. Many of his established calling cards are on display here: his bright resounding chords, buoyant basslines, and fragmented vocal hooks. The record is full of joy and rapture, yet something feels off. Amongst the glowing melodies is a creeping dissonance. ASMR vocals float in and out of the mix like eerie audio hallucinations, and synths melt and detune as if warped from excessive heat. Amongst the idyll, life creeps in at the edges.

Colourful yet discordant; familiar yet strange. “You’re looking kinda sleepy. Have a few days off.”

Following earlier appearances on Time Horizon IV and a remix for Pushlock's "Journey at the end of the Brain", Low End Activist returns to further cement his link with XCPT — this time with a full-length that extends into a shared message.
It’s a record that deals in pressure and placement where the rhythms carry weight without dominating, allowing tones to dissolve at the edges. Space isn’t decorative here, it’s structural — carrying as much intent as the low-end itself.
A respectful and meticulous approach emerges in the spectral handling of samples — spooked, finely cut, and quietly rooted in a jazz-derived sphere.
The album stays locked into its own logic of reduction, control, and tension. What emerges is a fluid listening experience less about peaks, more about persistence, 8 Tracks spanning the various palette of bass music through the art of good sampling; both for the floor but also for intimate momentum of introspection. A Journey into the sound merging the new with the old school.

For years, EYRE LLEW were defined by motion.

Cities blurred into one another. Borders became routine. Airports, night drives, ferry ports, backstage rooms, festival fields, hotel corridors, and long-distance journeys stitched together into a single continuous life of movement. Success, such as it existed, was measured in miles travelled, crowds gathered, and momentum sustained. The band moved because they had to. Because stopping felt like failure. Because “making it” always seemed to live somewhere just ahead.

Then the world stopped.

Lockdown didn’t just interrupt EYRE LLEW’s trajectory; it dismantled it. The relentless forward motion that had shaped their identity for over a decade disappeared overnight. Tours vanished. Plans dissolved. The infrastructure of their lives as musicians collapsed into silence. For a band built on movement, it felt devastating.

Written across lockdown and the years that followed, the album is not a record about absence; it’s a record about presence. About love that feels like home. About stillness as strength. About devotion without spectacle. About grief without melodrama. About healing without performative optimism. About growth that doesn’t announce itself loudly, but happens slowly, privately, and honestly.

After years of movement, it is EYRE LLEW learning how to stand still and discovering that this is where the real growth starts.

For years, EYRE LLEW were defined by motion.

Cities blurred into one another. Borders became routine. Airports, night drives, ferry ports, backstage rooms, festival fields, hotel corridors, and long-distance journeys stitched together into a single continuous life of movement. Success, such as it existed, was measured in miles travelled, crowds gathered, and momentum sustained. The band moved because they had to. Because stopping felt like failure. Because “making it” always seemed to live somewhere just ahead.

Then the world stopped.

Lockdown didn’t just interrupt EYRE LLEW’s trajectory; it dismantled it. The relentless forward motion that had shaped their identity for over a decade disappeared overnight. Tours vanished. Plans dissolved. The infrastructure of their lives as musicians collapsed into silence. For a band built on movement, it felt devastating.

Written across lockdown and the years that followed, the album is not a record about absence; it’s a record about presence. About love that feels like home. About stillness as strength. About devotion without spectacle. About grief without melodrama. About healing without performative optimism. About growth that doesn’t announce itself loudly, but happens slowly, privately, and honestly.

After years of movement, it is EYRE LLEW learning how to stand still and discovering that this is where the real growth starts.

Whispering Ln. Vol. II was recorded between 2018 and 2019 in America, alongside the pieces that formed the first album. These recordings belong to the same time and space, shaped by the same quiet focus and slow attention to sound.

While remaining rooted in minimalism, this album introduces several more rhythmic pieces, drawing inspiration from early electronic music – echoes of composers such as Tom Dissevelt and Raymond Scott.

Movement and stillness coexist throughout this record. Rhythms and patterns shift and occasionally dissolve. The music asks for little and offers even less explanation, inviting listening without urgency – to slow down and remain present. May it offer a moment of calm, where time loosens, and attention gently settles.

Whirr and Luster have been orbiting each other for years, bound by a shared language of glide guitar, buried vocals, and volume as emotion. A through line that’s only deepened by Nick Bassett’s hand in producing and mixing the majority of Luster’s previously recorded output. The Whirr & Luster Split pairs one of American shoegaze's most storied bands with one of its most vital new voices across four new songs. Out on 12" EP, CD EP, and digital via Freewhirl Records. Splits are sacred territory for Whirr. More than a decade after the band helped define the modern heavy-shoegaze landscape, the Bay Area five-piece returns with its first new material in years. “Spiral Again” opens the record in classic Whirr fashion: an avalanche of guitar wrapped around a lyric about losing yourself in someone else’s gravity — spiraling, intertwining, coming down together. “Wish I Could Give You The World” follows, one of the most openly romantic songs the band has ever recorded, all wildfire imagery and dizzy devotion, desire rendered at full volume. Produced by Whirr and Zac Montez, both tracks find the band in signature form: enormous yet tender. On the flip side, Los Angeles' Luster continue their run as the standouts of the new shoegaze generation. Formed with the intent of pushing the genre forward rather than reenacting it, Luster fold electronic pulse and '90s texture into walls of glider guitar, and the two contributions here find the band in peak form. "Against the World" is a love song as a locked door — it's you and me, us against the world — claustrophobic and comforting in the same breath. "Forever" closes the record in a haze of doomed-romance repetition, a mantra of do you feel it now dissolving into the knowledge that nothing lasts. Also produced with Zac Montez, the songs make the case plainly: Luster aren't students of the form. They're peers. Taken together, the four songs read like a conversation. About distance, obsession, and the ache of never being able to give someone enough — carried across two coasts and two generations of a genre that refuses to fade. Loud, longing, and gone too soon: the Whirr & Luster Split, out September 18th. Whirr and Luster celebrate the release and cement the collaboration with two shows — the only U.S. Whirr performances of 2026, with no shows planned beyond them. Each night features a unique set built from rarities and live debuts, alongside exclusive vinyl variants and merchandise available only in that room, on that night: 9/18 — Los Angeles, CA @ The Wiltern 9/20 — New York, NY @ Brooklyn Paramount Two nights, two coasts, and no telling if there’s a next time — for the songs, the pairing, or the band itself.

10” black vinyl + DL card.

Josephine Foster's peculiar 2000 home recorded debut There Are Eyes Above is an essential introduction to her music that’s unfolded now for over two decades. Released for the first time on vinyl, this limited edition 10-inch pressing comes packaged with brand new artwork and is adorned by one of Josephine’s illustrations. Lo-fi and unaffected by tradition or commercialism these initial recordings are sepia-tinted, folk-art music with powered by uke minimalism; it’s outsider music that still doesn't fit in. Just 30-minutes caught in time before her 2001 follow up Little Life - this humble first incarnation includes here for posterity super personal lullabies and a glimpse into her songwriting evolution. It’s music from an era that only exists in your mind, with a bow to Tin Pan Alley for good measure. This super rare collection, originally only released on CDR and sold at shows, remains an essential part of the curious oeuvre of this unique songwriter and singer. “A dissonant soprano and lyrics about benevolence and old-time faith, Foster expertly weaves ancient and modern” The Guardian. Track listing: Side A 1 One Hundred Songs I Sing 2 Emily Told Me 3 Teeter Totter 4 Little Life 5 I Am A Guest In Here. Side B 6 Robber Song 7 Hey Matthew 8 There Are Eyes Above 9 Godcake 10 Yippee I'm Leaving 11Two Not One

Night repeats itself in small fragments.

A thought left unfinished.
A sentence waiting to be said.
One day dissolving into the next.

Akero returns to Moving Pictures with a five-track EP shaped by melodic tension, understated emotion and gently shifting club rhythms.

The record opens with "I Need To Say It" - a direct and emotional cut carried by a restless groove and a quietly luminous atmosphere.
"Ogninotte" unfolds with hypnotic movement with a soft melancholic pulse, while "Unagiornata" brings a brighter, more open-ended moment to the record.

On the remix side, Roman Rai reshapes "I Need To Say It" into a Complete Cosmic Rework, allowing the original to unfold across wider, more spacious terrain.
Täino closes the circle with his own interpretation, keeping the emotional core intact while bringing it closer to the label's warm and introspective dancefloor language.

Moving between lo-fi experimental songwriting, sparse post-punk textures and intimate recordings; Ukrainian artist Regina Collage’s new album ‘Horizont’ is a personal and honest document of rebuilding a life and creative voice in Bristol. The record holds space for themes of burnout, quiet shame, tenderness and the courage of staying emotionally open when the world feels unstable. Sung entirely in Ukrainian, ‘Horizont’ does not ask the listener to understand every word. Feeling carries the songs forward. Across bedroom recordings and borrowed studios, Regina moves between cloudy dissonance and stark minimal arrangements built around bass, fragments of guitar, and an exposed voice. The recordings hold onto their rough edges. Mistakes remain and imperfection becomes part of the story. “Music for me is about not being scared to be vulnerable,” Regina says. “Almost every song I have is about what it means to be open and emotional. I really do not think it is a weakness. I hope people can listen and feel welcome to take a break and just let their emotions exist.” The album takes its name from the Ukrainian word for “horizon,” that unreachable line where sky meets earth. For Regina, the horizon became a quiet metaphor for living with distance and uncertainty. Inspired by one of her collage artworks showing a figure lying in grass and staring toward that far line, the title track reflects a feeling of moving toward something that never quite comes closer. Even without understanding the lyrics, the song carries a slow sense of longing and suspended arrival. m‘Vpiznavaty’, by contrast, initially feels almost light. Beneath that surface is a candid portrait of burnout and depressive exhaustion. The song looks at those moments when even greeting friends feels overwhelming. It captures the quiet embarrassment of withdrawing from people you care about, and the slow recognition that sometimes stepping away is simply how you survive. Other songs reveal different sides of the same emotional landscape. ‘Weak’ strips everything back to bass, a hint of guitar, and a bare vocal. Written and recorded in a single instinctive session, the track circles around the idea that softness might be its own kind of strength. Repetitive and intentionally unpolished, it quietly sets the tone for the whole record. Running through ‘Horizont’ is the reality of Regina’s life between Ukraine and the UK. Her hometown Kharkiv continues to face attacks, and many of her friends remain on the front line.

The Toxic Funk series keeps pushing the boundaries of funk and hip-hop on wax, and Volume 23 welcomes DJP with two heavyweight remix cuts tailor-made for party-rocking DJs and golden-era hip-hop lovers alike. Packed with dusty breaks, sharp cuts and undeniable boom-bap energy, this 7” delivers pure underground flavor from start to finish.

On the A-side, The Nod Factor (DJP Remix) flips a true hip-hop classic into a groove-heavy breakbeat weapon loaded with crisp drums, funky rhythms and that unmistakable head-nodding swing. DJP injects fresh energy into the timeless vocal flows while keeping the raw essence fully intact.

The B-side, How Many Emcees (Must Get Dissed) (DJP Remix) dives even deeper into rugged East Coast vibes with rolling breaks, punchy basslines and expertly chopped funk elements that hit hard on any sound system. DJP balances classic hip-hop attitude with dancefloor-ready funk pressure, making this another essential weapon for selectors who like their beats raw and funky.

Toxic Funk Vol. 23 continues the series’ tradition of bringing heavyweight grooves to 7” vinyl, serving up another limited edition double-sider for crate diggers, breakbeat heads and party DJs worldwide.


b B1: How Many Emcees (Must Get Dissed) [DJP Remix]


[b] B1 | How Many Emcees (Must Get Dissed) [DJP Remix]

Emerging from the Hungarian underground, POST ANALOG DISORDER inhabits the fractured space where EBM, hard-beat techno and post-punk converge. Cold, spectral melodies collide with relentless machine rhythms, dissolving the boundaries between body music, industrial tension and guitar-driven darkness into a singular, uncompromising language.

Driven by heavy analogue basslines, razor-sharp sequencers, haunting female vocals and hypnotic guitar motifs, the duo shapes a sound that is both mechanical and deeply human. Each composition unfolds through constant friction, balancing disciplined repetition with emotional instability, where raw physical force meets moments of haunting introspection.

Rather than revisiting the vocabulary of classic EBM, POST ANALOG DISORDER deconstructs and reconfigures it through a contemporary, forward-looking perspective. The result is an immersive work of hypnotic intensity, suspended between industrial ritual, post-punk melancholy and uncompromising electronic experimentation—a record conceived not only for the darkest dancefloors, but for those drawn to the outer edges of underground electronic music.

Two deep, meditative house tracks built on warmth and repetition. Comes with insert in a silver sleeve.

On “Ritual of Dance,” Nhojj’s voice guides the listener onto a (makeshift) dance floor, as the track builds in intensity, mirroring the rising energy of a dance session. On the flip, “Groove Extracts” leans further into a stripped, hypnotic space. Driven by percussion, bass, and a wandering key solo. It draws you inward towards the more meditative side of losing yourself in the groove. Inviting the body to take over where the mind dissolves.

Ritual of Dance EP is about the journey of dancing alone or together.

So-Cal's Movements remain on a steady upward trajectory, their fourth album Happier Now builds on the tension-and-release sound they've perfected on their previous releases Once again produced by Grammy- winner Will Yip , Happier Now holds fast to Movements' dissonant grooves, while incorporating melodic flourishes in the mix as heard in "Dissolve Me" and the moody "Back in My Ways." With over 600M total global streams, Movements to remain faithful to the distinct sound their fans love. Available on CD and transparent violet vinyl editions.

Long Slow Distance is an album about finding peace, and making peace where it can’t be found. It’s inspired by change, grief, acceptance, forgiveness, love, and running.

Dawson began running around the same time he started making records. At this point it’s unclear where one practice ends and the other begins. The album’s title has become the ethos he’s embraced for all things in life.

Long Slow Dance unravels the woven collage of his previous work. Here each song consists of three long guitar takes, panned across the stereo-field with minimal overdubs. “I remember my grandmother always kept a rain barrel on the farm. Just a simple vessel that served as a means for gathering water for the garden and the flowers. I wanted to instill that sentiment on this record. Other than some panning and recreational EQing, the computer was just a vessel to gather sounds.”

There is a distant grace to the album. A soft expanse, a quiet contrast. Guitars dissolve and then recalibrate. Sparse melodic motifs bloom and fracture. Warm chords clash and make amends. Alpenglow textures shimmer against tones that feel weathered by salt air. The songs are lightly propulsive, yet drift at a glacial pace. Fields and artifacts ground the material, like keeping your eyes on the horizon. Long Slow Distance feels intuitive, sentimental, and like Dawson is one step closer to whatever distance he is chasing.
Downloadable Assets

Born from the Perpignan garage scene in the South of France - built on self-production, independent labels, and a strong international network - Ghost Twist bring together musicians active for decades in Perpignan"s most iconic line-ups. Its members have evolved within key bands (Beach Bitches, Sonic Chicken 4, Crank) and collaborated with Pascal Comelade, Harlan T. Bobo, and the Limiñanas, with releases on acclaimed labels like In The Red, Born Bad, Goner and Trouble In Mind. Formed in 2018, Ghost Twist developed a raw rock sound rooted in the 1960s, shaped by oriental and tropical atmospheres inspired by compilations like "Jungle Exotica" or "Las Vegas Grind". Over time, the band has broadened its sonic palette and incorporated a wide range of influences: from cumbia to the hip-hop of Cypress Hill, from Sonic Youth-style dissonances to Fela Kuti"s afro grooves, all the way to country accents.

In a world increasingly shaped by disposable content, Chat Pile answer with something defiantly real and organic, a mentality that permeates Who Loves The Sun, their third full-length record. Since the band’s formation just over six years ago, the Oklahoma City-based quartet Chat Pile has grown from a scrappy passion project into one of the defining heavy acts to emerge from the 2020s underground. Ray B. (vocals), L. Manhole (guitar), Stin (bass), and Cap’n Ron (drums) create a crushing, crass, and cathartic take on noise rock that captures a raw, undeniably human essence in an age marked by technological overreach and the cold state of society. Nothing about Who Loves The Sun feels synthetic.

Whereas their debut album God’s Country depicted a particularly American flavor of dread, and the follow up Cool World showed a cruel planet defined by global systemic violence, Who Loves The Sun peels the skin back on how collective indifference defines this new century. Spanning imagery of coastlines devouring cities, dead-end jobs, and submission to data-driven inauthenticity, the album dissects the apathy-bloated state of 21st-century existence as a slow-motion apocalypse. As with much of Chat Pile’s work, Oklahoma City itself looms over the album like a character, its sprawling isolation, economic contradictions, and underlying sense of decay embedded in the fabric of the record. The perfect allegory for the thematic essence of Who Loves The Sun is the photo embossed on the record’s cover, where Devon Tower, a glassy, largely vacant monolith, looms high above the Oklahoma City skyline while a burnt-out home or storefront envelops the foreground. The album remains lyrically and sonically confrontational, but Chat Pile approached the songwriting with hooks in mind, drawing on melodic tones of pre-2000s indie rock, alt-rock, and new wave. From the blood-soaked vocal passages of “Christabel ’26” to the eerie trip-hop pulse of “Same Rules,” Who Loves The Sun is deeply human despite its allusions to a dying, divided .

In a world increasingly shaped by disposable content, Chat Pile answer with something defiantly real and organic, a mentality that permeates Who Loves The Sun, their third full-length record. Since the band’s formation just over six years ago, the Oklahoma City-based quartet Chat Pile has grown from a scrappy passion project into one of the defining heavy acts to emerge from the 2020s underground. Ray B. (vocals), L. Manhole (guitar), Stin (bass), and Cap’n Ron (drums) create a crushing, crass, and cathartic take on noise rock that captures a raw, undeniably human essence in an age marked by technological overreach and the cold state of society. Nothing about Who Loves The Sun feels synthetic.

Whereas their debut album God’s Country depicted a particularly American flavor of dread, and the follow up Cool World showed a cruel planet defined by global systemic violence, Who Loves The Sun peels the skin back on how collective indifference defines this new century. Spanning imagery of coastlines devouring cities, dead-end jobs, and submission to data-driven inauthenticity, the album dissects the apathy-bloated state of 21st-century existence as a slow-motion apocalypse. As with much of Chat Pile’s work, Oklahoma City itself looms over the album like a character, its sprawling isolation, economic contradictions, and underlying sense of decay embedded in the fabric of the record. The perfect allegory for the thematic essence of Who Loves The Sun is the photo embossed on the record’s cover, where Devon Tower, a glassy, largely vacant monolith, looms high above the Oklahoma City skyline while a burnt-out home or storefront envelops the foreground. The album remains lyrically and sonically confrontational, but Chat Pile approached the songwriting with hooks in mind, drawing on melodic tones of pre-2000s indie rock, alt-rock, and new wave. From the blood-soaked vocal passages of “Christabel ’26” to the eerie trip-hop pulse of “Same Rules,” Who Loves The Sun is deeply human despite its allusions to a dying, divided .

In a world increasingly shaped by disposable content, Chat Pile answer with something defiantly real and organic, a mentality that permeates Who Loves The Sun, their third full-length record. Since the band’s formation just over six years ago, the Oklahoma City-based quartet Chat Pile has grown from a scrappy passion project into one of the defining heavy acts to emerge from the 2020s underground. Ray B. (vocals), L. Manhole (guitar), Stin (bass), and Cap’n Ron (drums) create a crushing, crass, and cathartic take on noise rock that captures a raw, undeniably human essence in an age marked by technological overreach and the cold state of society. Nothing about Who Loves The Sun feels synthetic.

Whereas their debut album God’s Country depicted a particularly American flavor of dread, and the follow up Cool World showed a cruel planet defined by global systemic violence, Who Loves The Sun peels the skin back on how collective indifference defines this new century. Spanning imagery of coastlines devouring cities, dead-end jobs, and submission to data-driven inauthenticity, the album dissects the apathy-bloated state of 21st-century existence as a slow-motion apocalypse. As with much of Chat Pile’s work, Oklahoma City itself looms over the album like a character, its sprawling isolation, economic contradictions, and underlying sense of decay embedded in the fabric of the record. The perfect allegory for the thematic essence of Who Loves The Sun is the photo embossed on the record’s cover, where Devon Tower, a glassy, largely vacant monolith, looms high above the Oklahoma City skyline while a burnt-out home or storefront envelops the foreground. The album remains lyrically and sonically confrontational, but Chat Pile approached the songwriting with hooks in mind, drawing on melodic tones of pre-2000s indie rock, alt-rock, and new wave. From the blood-soaked vocal passages of “Christabel ’26” to the eerie trip-hop pulse of “Same Rules,” Who Loves The Sun is deeply human despite its allusions to a dying, divided .

In a world increasingly shaped by disposable content, Chat Pile answer with something defiantly real and organic, a mentality that permeates Who Loves The Sun, their third full-length record. Since the band’s formation just over six years ago, the Oklahoma City-based quartet Chat Pile has grown from a scrappy passion project into one of the defining heavy acts to emerge from the 2020s underground. Ray B. (vocals), L. Manhole (guitar), Stin (bass), and Cap’n Ron (drums) create a crushing, crass, and cathartic take on noise rock that captures a raw, undeniably human essence in an age marked by technological overreach and the cold state of society. Nothing about Who Loves The Sun feels synthetic.

Whereas their debut album God’s Country depicted a particularly American flavor of dread, and the follow up Cool World showed a cruel planet defined by global systemic violence, Who Loves The Sun peels the skin back on how collective indifference defines this new century. Spanning imagery of coastlines devouring cities, dead-end jobs, and submission to data-driven inauthenticity, the album dissects the apathy-bloated state of 21st-century existence as a slow-motion apocalypse. As with much of Chat Pile’s work, Oklahoma City itself looms over the album like a character, its sprawling isolation, economic contradictions, and underlying sense of decay embedded in the fabric of the record. The perfect allegory for the thematic essence of Who Loves The Sun is the photo embossed on the record’s cover, where Devon Tower, a glassy, largely vacant monolith, looms high above the Oklahoma City skyline while a burnt-out home or storefront envelops the foreground. The album remains lyrically and sonically confrontational, but Chat Pile approached the songwriting with hooks in mind, drawing on melodic tones of pre-2000s indie rock, alt-rock, and new wave. From the blood-soaked vocal passages of “Christabel ’26” to the eerie trip-hop pulse of “Same Rules,” Who Loves The Sun is deeply human despite its allusions to a dying, divided .

A Collision of Worlds. A Convergence of Sound.

Czarface opens another portal. On Czarface Meets Frankie Pulitzer, the boundary between comic book canon and hip-hop reality dissolves. Frankie Pulitzer, also known in certain dimensions as FacePuller, is no ordinary collaborator, character, or catalyst. He is a hybrid entity: part human, part alien force, fully embedded in the expanding Czarface universe.

Following landmark team-ups with MF DOOM and Ghostface Killah, Czarface continues its “Meets” saga with a full-scale crossover event that pushes deeper into story and sound. Frankie’s presence is both lyrical and mythological, bringing a chaotic, shape-shifting energy that challenges and complements Czarface’s razor-sharp precision. Dusty drums, cinematic soundscapes, and razor-edged bars bring the classic Czarface sound, yet mutated.

The universe widens with appearances from Busta Rhymes, Method Man, and El-P (of Run the Jewels), each adding their own gravitational pull to the project, thus grounding it in hip-hop legacy while amplifying its larger-than-life scope.

After making waves in the underground with their first release, psychedelic techno explorations from Winkles, A Sky Full Of Numbers head to the shoreline with a five tracker of misty electronica from Japan’s The Rituals, the new collaboration between Tasoko and DOLTZ. Across acclaimed releases on Explore, Bitta, and Delsin, the duo have separately explored deep techno, ambient, acid house and IDM, showcasing innovative sound design and spacious, understated grooves. For AFSON, the duo apply their unique point of view at a lower tempo, pulling away from the peak time to deliver a shadowy journey through dewy electronics.
Opening transmission 503M feels like tuning into a damaged frequency somewhere beyond the cloud line. Misty lead synths slither through blown circuitry while buzzing sequences and short-circuiting percussion crackle against purring bass pressure below.
There’s an eerie electricity in the atmosphere, as if the track’s been exposed to too much heat and left glowing softly in the dark. From the opening bars, The Rituals instantly establish their ability to make techno feel both mechanical and hallucinatory.
Ugan sees the duo descend deeper into the haze. Reverb-drenched synth motifs hover like distant lights through thick fog while a propulsive dub bassline locks into loose electro-funk rhythms beneath. There are echoes of hauntological electronics and early IDM experiments here, but The Rituals avoid nostalgia entirely, steering the track instead towards something crepuscular and alive.
Stepping out of the shadows, Broken Frog Lamp pushes forward on a rolling rhythmic framework as melodies slowly force their way through layers of sea mist and static interference. Atmospheric without losing momentum, the track balances submerged emotional weight with hypnotic forward motion.
The mood softens but never dissipates on Salty Air, a damp and dewy excursion into dubbed-out psychedelia. Rainfall ambience, skittering stone percussion and swelling pads fold around sliding sub bass and filtered stabs, while jazzy cymbals and syncopated hats gently pull the track forward, as the condensation clings to the hardware.
Closing cut “Night, Castle, Reflection” drifts into darker territories, where redlining drums and pulsing low-end pressure throb beneath thick layers of saturated texture. Woozy synth work smears against tightly controlled rhythms, creating an immersive and slightly uneasy atmosphere that closes the EP at its most introspective point.
Taken as a whole, the EP transports you into the midnight hour, when the comforting embrace of stillness can easily nudge you towards hallucination, dissolving the boundaries between dream state and dancefloor hypnosis.

Broshuda returns on the newly born label Ballads Infinite with another array of absurdist vignettes, lowercase hi-tech ambience and textural degradations of radio transmissions from the bicameral mind. Weaving multiple sonic timelines into silky yet slippery articulations, he sculpts each sound with deliberate care making it breathe, slither and shimmer. Spells conjures a subterranean force through its vanishing presence, with the restraint in the sonic palette feeling utterly refreshing, as watering, drop by drop, a ghostly flower in the dromoscopic netscape of overreaching stimuli.

Deliriously patching fragments of unnoticed memories, gliding freely— slightly inebriated—through the ocean of sound: what does it take to capture the transitory entities inhabiting the latent space of this hyperconnected manifold? An assemblage of mechanical debris reduced to their bare-bone essentials; the Tao of discharge brings life to corrupted data, unpacked through textural ruminations.

Broshuda doesn’t just cast the spell, he patiently coils it around you, dissolving each and every thought in the hiss, manipulating subtle energies by making them move beyond and outward. What’s the sound of matter silently falling apart? The serpent sheds its subtle yet solid armor, revealing the space between each spire blooming with gentle eruptions of broken melodies. Where do we land now? What are we turning into? An ontological enigma still awaits to be solved.

Mastered by: Inner Lakes @ Tapewave Studio

In Walter Benjamin’s seminal essay “Art in the Age of Mechanical Reproduction”, he posits that the aura of art objects is destroyed by the ability to photographically reproduce them. When you had to make a pilgrimage to a work it remained elusive, charged, ever distant; but when you can easily see a reproduction, such aura dissipates. What Benjamin did not anticipate is that in the age of AI and the frictionless fount of digital content, we have imbued mechanical and analog means of media production with aura. Film cameras from the last 100 years are in high demand (the point and shoot Olympus Mju I featured in Wim Wenders film Perfect Days still sells for $200), vinyl sales continue to grow year by year, 35mm and 70mm film screenings have become aura-drenched events people travel across country for, and as to the world of vintage and analog synthesizers, when a friend asked for the price on the Yamaha CS-80 synth used on Toto’s “Africa”, the answer was a cool $60,000.

Despite the ability to simulate almost any synthesizer on a computer, the original physical units retain their mystique. Perhaps this lies in the physical process, many of these synths are temperamental and difficult to fully utilize, and the effort and ingenuity can be felt in ways that will always be absent from easy digital simulacra. Perhaps there is an aura in their imperfection, as Brian Eno wrote: “Whatever you now find weird, ugly, uncomfortable and nasty about a new medium will surely become its signature. CD distortion, the jitteriness of digital video, the crap sound of 8-bit - all of these will be cherished and emulated as soon as they can be avoided.” Some may call this nostalgia, but such sonic imperfections are the sounds of humans interacting with the physical world, and it is understandable to feel a pang of emotion and attachment in a time of exponential alienation.

Marche 22 was recorded over a week at the Museo Del Synth Marchigiano in Macerata, Italy. The museum is filled with rare and obscure synths (especially CRB, GEM & Elka) as well as salvaged materials from a nearby shuttered Farfisa organ factory, including MARS, an unfinished realtime audio processing application developed by IRIS - similar to the now well known MAX/MSP. Kyle Dixon and Michael Stein play a suite of pieces that encompasses the last sixty years of synthesizer music—there are nods to Cluster, Tangerine Dream, Jean Michel Jarre, and Morton Subotnick. Dixon and Stein are like jazz masters playing the American songbook with their own riffs and quotations. What shines through in these varied works that are sometimes rhythmic, sometimes melancholic, and sometimes both, is a soul, a spirit, an emotion vibrating through the tones like the charge of coming rain or the thrum of a distant train on the tracks. - Neil Fauerso

When everything around is racing blindly toward ruin, change direction and spin as fast as you can until you defy gravity and rise above the ground into blissful madness. "K-drone", the debut album by three renegades—Jakub Šimanský, Michal Vaľko, and Ján Podracký—is like a hallucinatory Calvary with five stations. Each station is a time-loop capsule, a tiny utopia sneering at the phantom progress of the world outside.

The opening track, "Speedrone", is pure vertigo; for seven long minutes, there's nothing to hold onto. Šimanský’s banjo cuts through the air, Vaľko’s hurdy-gurdy sounds like someone scraping a rusted sheet of metal with a handful of nails, and Podracký’s bass recorder hums like a slowly intensifying migraine. "Sine" is like a train journey through a barren wasteland, where the images outside the window constantly repeat like a bad trip. "Pro DJ" starts like a gig in a bar at the end of the line—a gig that never actually goes anywhere. It’s as if all three are locked in a spasm, their repeated motifs turning into haunting earworms. "Alien Radigue" shifts into a strange idyll in a clearing in the middle of the forest, where an unknown bird species trills in the background. The end and definitive dissolution come in "Slush", where everything suddenly slows down. Šimanský plucks a simple guitar melody, Podracký’s harmonica drifts from side to side like a boat gently rocking by the shore, and Vaľko’s hurdy-gurdy drones like a drunken mosquito buzzing around.

"K-drone" sounds like an acid anti-western movie recorded in a tucked-away burrow, like smoke-soaked folk and experimental campfire songs echoing through a deep forest. It evokes Third Ear Band's "Alchemy", it screeches and repeats like some of Henry Flynt's experiments, and you could easily imagine hearing it drifting from one of the windows on the cover of Hala Strana's eponymous album.

Jakub Šimanský is the bard of Czechoslovak guitar primitivism, an earthy folk sommelier whose fingerpicking you may also know from the duo Šimanský Niesner. Michal Vaľko, aka Line Gate, needs no introduction to fans. He has released three albums on mappa, and his hurdy-gurdy meditations hold an important place in the drone and minimalist music scene. "Den", "Apex", and "Trap" have become essential listening. Ján Podracký is a self-taught composer and musician whom you might know from various participatory music projects, such as an orchestra where all the players play diatonic harmonicas. Besides harmonicas, he has long explored a wide range of flutes. In short, a pied piper who will guide you through other worlds.

Illusive Bristolian beatmaker Claude Cooper returns with a visceral blast of psychedelic-hip-hop, enlisting IDLES frontman Joe Talbot and BEAK> bassist Billy Fuller for ‘Perfect Execution’, a limited edition 7" single in aid of War Child UK.

Claude Cooper has found a kindred spirit in Joe Talbot. The IDLES frontman has long worn his hip-hop influences as openly as his post-punk ones, and on ‘Perfect Execution’ that affinity finds its fullest expression yet. Cooper's raw, dissonant production collides with Talbot's breathless, confrontational lyricism in a track that draws its lineage from Public Enemy as readily as it does from Bristol's own bruised musical history.

The lyrics pull no punches. Talbot inhabits a landscape of public spectacle and private suffering, circling images of crowds, chains, hanging and the hollow comfort of slogans. The repeated refrain of “No pain no gain” hits differently when set against the track's subject matter, its bludgeoning repetition somewhere between protest chant and bitter irony.

Joe says, “It’s an honour to work with some beautiful Bristol heads on this track for Warchild. All is love”.

Keith Freund’s music occupies a space where careful musicianship and homebrewed experimentation meet and shake hands. On “Window Left Open,” spacious melodies drift through dense fields of electronic activity: saxophone lines rise above buzzing circuitry, percussion flickers at the edges of the frame, and clustered glitch textures dart through the music like insects in tall summer grass. Every sound feels vividly animated, a charged part of the same mercurial ecosystem.

Freund’s talent lies in balancing warmth and unpredictability with remarkable ease. Patient motifs recall the exploratory spirit of early folktronica, while bit-reduced textures, degraded loops, and idiosyncratic synthesis techniques continually reshape the terrain beneath them. Rather than treating acoustic and electronic elements as opposing forces, Freund allows them to intermingle until distinctions dissolve, creating compositions that reward close listening while retaining immediate warmth. This record finds Freund working with a fully formed vocabulary that is truly his own, transforming glitch, melody, improvisation, and atmosphere into songs that are both fundamentally curious and disarmingly engaging.

Blue vinyl. Hailing from Wiltshire, forming in 1982, Tokyo Blade was initially considered part of the NWOBHM scene but quickly outgrew the tag, enduring over the course of 14 studio albums and five EPs. Producing genuine early classics such as their self-titled debut and follow-up 'Night Of The Blade', the band went through multiple line-up changes over the years, yet continued to enjoy the support of the metal community and die-hard fans across the globe.

"Nido de Espinas" is the fourteenth studio album by Buitres. Uruguayan Punk Rock band formed in 1989, heirs to the legacy of the iconic Post Punk band "Los Estómagos" It began to be composed in 2022 and was recorded in early 2024. The texts are inspired by the Diary of a Desperate Heart, an arbitrary overflow of feelings written disorderedly with an improvised rein, which demanded exhaustive work from the band to reach maximum expression in each track. Artistic production was handled by Ale Vázquez (Spinetta, Intoxicados and more) and Sebastián Teysera (La Vela Puerca), who landed the runaway chariot set on fire. buitres formed in late 1989, following the dissolution of the group Los Estómagos, a band that sparked a new era of Uruguayan rock in 1983. José "Pepe" Rambao, a close friend since childhood, joined the Parodi-Peluffo duo. Buitres has toured extensively throughout the entire Uruguayan territory and has participated in massive international shows both in Uruguay and abroad. Additionally, they have completed six tours across Spain, where the album En la Vuelta (CD and DVD) was released. Their discography features 14 studio albums. They have released three live albums, two documentary DVDs, and three live DVDs. Three books have been published about the band. The band has received numerous acolytes and awards, but most importantly, after more than thirty years, they continue to maintain a close and emotional relationship with their audience - one that has endured throughout their history and grows over time. For this reason, the band dedicates their absolute best effort to every new work and every performance. "Nido de Espinas" is their new Studio album. These are wild and excessive times. Perhaps this statement applies to our life history just as it did to ordinary people in bygone eras. However, we assimilate the changes, adapt, and move forward. Nothing new under the sun. We grew up assuming static realities without trying to understand that they were newborn and would not last forever. The "forever" was declining into premature obsolescence. Every accessory is fleeting in the dizzying change of language.