quête:dissolve

(Physical release only, Limited edition of 300 hand numbered copies + insert) Psyched Out Grooves from Hungary compiles ten of the most outstanding singles recorded by the underdogs of this period.



The psychedelic scene that never was – the perfect subtitle to this compilation. There were barely any drugs in Hungary to begin with. In this era, alcohol, music, and imagination have served as the primary means of mind alteration among the youth. The Communist party had a firm grip on culture through monopole control over venues, the media, and the recording industry, western records were not available, clubs enforced a strict dress code of suits, shirts, and longer skirts, and the police harassed young men for not more than having long hair or wearing blue jeans.



There was, however, an undercurrent of smaller semi-professional bands striving to succeed in the shadow of the very few stars privileged by the sole state owned record company. Given their chances to release music were at best limited to a few 7“ singles at the mercy of said record company powers. Psyched Out Grooves from Hungary compiles ten of the most outstanding singles recorded by the underdogs of this period. Some of the bands featured on here have eventually reached wider success by switching to more commercial styles, like Bergendy, Neoton, and Apostol. Most, like Echo, Meteor, Kék Csillag, Non-Stop, were temporal formations that dissolved after a few years due to personal conflicts, lack of success, or both. Others, like Scampolo or Juventus, lasted a longer time without an actual break through. Most of these bands never had a consistent, lasting ’psychedelic’ repertoire or identity at any point. These tracks were the exception, not the norm. That coherence - the illusion of a scene - comes from the curation and sequencing of Budabeats head honchos Von Yodi and Gandharva. It is the arrangement of these puzzle pieces that makes them fit together.



Limited edition of 300 hand numbered copies. Edited excerpt from the liner notes written by Gábor Vályi (Dj Shuriken)

Coming out on September 6th on Sharptone Records, Sundiver is Boston Manor’s fifth album and one that represents a glimmering dawn for the Blackpool five-piece. Grown from a seedbed of optimism and sobriety, the LP celebrates new beginnings, second chances and rebirth. With two members recently stepping into fatherhood, hope is baked into every note. “Datura came out of these really dark few years over the hangover of the pandemic,” Henry reflects. “I'd been struggling a lot with drinking and not taking care of myself and bad mental health and stuff. We wanted Sundiver to be the next morning of the following day.” He explains that it feels good this time round to write through the lens of positivity. “The themes began to emerge, of rebirth, spring, dawn, sunshine and then other elements just started to fit into that.” It was during the making of Sundiver that Henry found out he was going to be a dad. This album is a significant one for the band. Originally coming out of the emo and pop punk scene, they’ve explored sonics and genres throughout their career, taken risks and achieved more than they could ever had dreamed of. They’ve grown up as Boston Manor – their lives and the world changing around them. They’re now taking stock, at a crossroads of the band they were and the band they could be.
While writing the album, they revisited the bands that shaped them in the late 90s and early 00s. “I was listening to the music I loved when I was a teenager and I just thought, why don't we make music like our favourite bands?”, guitarist Mike Cuniff remembers with a smile. “So we brought our interests to the table that way. Y2K kind of vibe. There are elements of Deftones, there are elements of Portishead in there, some Garbage, The Cardigans.” He laughs and adds NSYNC to the list of inspirations. From this cocktail of classics comes a dynamic and ambitious record, rich with depth, groove and more hooks than Peter Pan’s nightmares. Lyrics that foxtrot from parallel universes to personal growth, vivid dreamscapes to raw grief. Individually they’re single strokes full of meaning and magic. Together they’re a landscape.
Container (out Feb 15th) is the first single and it’s them at their best – impassioned and infectious. “This song is about the stagnancy of life creeping up on you & how that can bring about change.,” Henry explains, citing Ocean Song by US band Daughters as an inspiration.

The concept of the butterfly effect is present on Sundiver – how small actions can lead to big changes. This is no clearer than on their second single, Sliding Doors (out April 5th). It has the golden sound of late 90s Lollapalooza rock – think Smashing Pumpkins - rebooted with crisp 2024 production and a potent heaviness. In the lyrics Henry wonders, what if?, pondering on what could be. The idea that there are infinite versions of you whose lives splinter off in different directions at every decision you make. That there’s another you out there somewhere right now reading this sentence, and another me writing it. “So much is down to chance and circumstance,” Henry says. “You might catch that train and your life totally changes. Or you might miss it and things stay the way they are.”
Heat Me Up (out May 30th) is defiant and victorious, the audio equivalent of quitting your shit job and driving into the hot summer sun with a head full of dreams. “The lyrics are about love and gratitude,” Henry shares. “Another theme on the record is just appreciating what you have. It’s about not taking for granted the things that you've been afforded.”
There was some natural magic in the creation of Sundiver. They worked with their usual producer, Larry Hibbitt, and engineer, Alex O’Donovan, but instead of recording in London again they ended up in the green pastures of Welwyn Garden City. “Because Larry lives out in the countryside now, it was a way different environment and way different experience recording this time,” Mike remembers. “That contributed a lot to the brighter sound of the record.” The daily barbecues they had during their recording sessions imbued the process with harmony – five old friends spending quality time together and making quality music.
However, the album is by no means one-note. Birthing this new world they’ve created wasn’t without it’s pain, and that can be heard in the heavier moments on Sundiver. What Is Taken Will Never Be Lost is the most-stripped back on the album, a slow rock number seasoned with the downtempo Portishead influence. The heartfelt lyrics are Henry’s way of processing the loss of his grandfather, who died in a hospice last year(?). “It was just fucking horrible. It was always cold when I went there and they were always trying to get rid of me. The song title, What Was Taken Can Ever Be Lost, is the idea of his memory fading at the time because of dementia.” Henry goes onto explain that shoeboxes of photographs, diaries and a legacy is what he’s left behind. “He lived a really rich life and it has really impacted me and my father. His legacy is etched into the fabric of history in a very small way.” This song continues the connection between his grandfather and the band, as his painted face is emblazoned on the cover of the very first Boston Manor EP, Driftwood. As well as emotionally heavy themes, there’s heaviness in the music of Sundiver too. The closing song, Oil In My Blood, descends into an intense shoegaze outro with Debbie Gough from Heriot screaming hellfire. It’s in moments like this that the band show us aggression and fury can be as much a part of positive change as quiet introspection. The last lyrics of the song, “It resets and starts again,” leaves us in contemplation as the final chord rings out.
Touring the US, Europe and Japan over the years makes for an impressive CV, but if you know anything about Boston Manor you’ll know that they’re all about their hometown. Their choice to work with Blackpool-based photographer Nick Barkworth is testament to that. They’ve been working with him since the pandemic. “He captures Blackpool in a light that really reflects the weirdness and quirkiness of the town,” Henry says.” He's got a really good way of presenting that.” For the Sundiver cover, Nick photographed a 30ft tall abstract glass sculpture made by the local artist John Ditchfield. A striking and bewitching monolith that’s familiar to them but unusual to most people. “It has such kind of a gravity and power to it,” Henry describes the sculpture which stands in a field just outside of the seaside town. “It reminds me of either an explosion or a star or a supernova. To me it represents new life, power and radiance.” Boston Manor have got a knack for that - connecting the otherworldly and the everyday, the stars and the streets.
They’re a band known for using their music to make bigger statements about society. This time round they’re harnessing the uplifting power of music, and the communion it creates, as an antidote to the daily doom and isolation. “It seems like absolute chaos out there at the moment,” Henry says. “You’ve got Gaza and Israel, you've got Russia, you've got the fact that 40% of the world is going to have an election this year and increasingly most governments are leaning very far to the Right. The internet is dividing everybody, people are getting poorer and more desperate. It's really, really scary.” They considered trying to tackle the weight of it all in their music. “We could’ve written Welcome to the Neighbourhood on steroids, where it's just absolute darkness and misery”. He’s referring to their 2018 concept album that deals with class, inequality and the bleaker side of Blackpool. “But I think it's really important to write something that people can be immersed in and find some sort of solace in. Somewhere they can escape to from the modern day pressures and everything that’s going on. We’re all in this together.”

Dive into the pulsating depths of the electronic cosmos with "Star Travel," the groundbreaking double album vinyl release from the visionary techno maestro Orlando Voorn. Renowned for his innovative soundscapes and masterful command of the genre, Voorn takes listeners on an electrifying journey through the uncharted realms of techno music. Across two meticulously crafted vinyl records, "Star Travel" delivers an immersive sonic experience that transcends boundaries and defies expectations. Each track is a sonic odyssey, meticulously designed to ignite the senses and propel listeners into a state of euphoria. From the hypnotic rhythms of "Aerosol Waveforms" to the relentless energy of "Extraterrestrial" Voorn's mastery is on full display as he seamlessly blends intricate melodies with driving basslines and hypnotic beats. With a keen sense of experimentation, he pushes the boundaries of the genre, infusing elements of ambient, acid, and industrial techno to create a truly immersive sonic tapestry. As the needle glides across the vinyl grooves, listeners are transported to a dimension where time and space dissolve, and the only thing that matters is the pulsating rhythm of the music. Each track unfolds like a sonic revelation, inviting listeners to lose themselves in the hypnotic vibrations of Voorn's musical universe. With its lush artwork and meticulous attention to detail, "Star Travel" is not just an album, but a testament to the enduring power of techno music to inspire, uplift, and transcend. Whether experienced on the dancefloor or in the solitude of a dimly lit room, this double vinyl release is sure to leave a lasting impression on all who dare to embark on its exhilarating journey. Experience the future of techno music with "Star Travel" - a testament to Orlando Voorn's boundless creativity and unwavering commitment to pushing the boundaries of electronic music.

There are ghosts all across AVANTI, the debut album from Malice K. At points it's howling and unhinged, a grungy layer atop a lush foundation of melodic capital-s Songwriting, but in other moments it dissolves into a gentle, wistful haunting. Malice K's songs are blunt, uncomplicated and unflinching as he probes the interiority of memories, of mistakes - saturated with an innate intensity that sucks you into his gnarled and visceral world, so barbed it could draw blood. Malice K is helmed by visual artist and songwriter Alex Konschuh, New York-based but born and raised in Olympia, Washington. Following a stint living in Los Angeles, where he became a member of the artist collective Death Proof Inc., a trip to New York resulted in him simply never leaving the city. A period of chaos ensued, Malice K exhausted and unmoored and ultimately, unwell. The record is unpredictable across its 11 songs. The album opens with a jarring scream on "Halloween," Malice K's breathless vocals buried beneath a grungy, roving Nineties riff. The track emanates a manic energy, enveloping. It's a fitting entrypoint for the record, and for the vividness of Malice K. The snarling and obsessive "You're My Girl" has a swaggering paranoia: "I got so high I thought my hand touching my hand was your hand." But AVANTI exists in quieter moments too; "Radio," with its fluttering morose cello, moves at an almost glacial pace comparatively. The aching wistfulness of "The Old House" is an album stand-out, anchored in an acoustic guitar, an uneasy lullaby that never quite settles into itself: "I think to myself I got the things that I wanted, but I can't help think there's something else that I forgot to do." A recent press interview called Malice K a shapeshifter, but he's not amorphous in that way. He's decisive and intense, more concerned with carving his own path, and building his own world. Every part of Malice K is distinctly himself: from his sweaty high-octane shows to the high-flash high-contrast photos; from his gnarled and unsettling illustrations to the studio recordings that vacillate between grief and tenderness, there's an exceptional ferocity across everything Malice K touches. AVANTI feels lived in, like peering into an abandoned house through a window smeared with grimy fingerprints, relics of a life well-lived scattered inside - despite being a debut, there's the sense that Malice K arrived fully-realized, imperfections and all.

There are ghosts all across AVANTI, the debut album from Malice K. At points it's howling and unhinged, a grungy layer atop a lush foundation of melodic capital-s Songwriting, but in other moments it dissolves into a gentle, wistful haunting. Malice K's songs are blunt, uncomplicated and unflinching as he probes the interiority of memories, of mistakes - saturated with an innate intensity that sucks you into his gnarled and visceral world, so barbed it could draw blood. Malice K is helmed by visual artist and songwriter Alex Konschuh, New York-based but born and raised in Olympia, Washington. Following a stint living in Los Angeles, where he became a member of the artist collective Death Proof Inc., a trip to New York resulted in him simply never leaving the city. A period of chaos ensued, Malice K exhausted and unmoored and ultimately, unwell. The record is unpredictable across its 11 songs. The album opens with a jarring scream on "Halloween," Malice K's breathless vocals buried beneath a grungy, roving Nineties riff. The track emanates a manic energy, enveloping. It's a fitting entrypoint for the record, and for the vividness of Malice K. The snarling and obsessive "You're My Girl" has a swaggering paranoia: "I got so high I thought my hand touching my hand was your hand." But AVANTI exists in quieter moments too; "Radio," with its fluttering morose cello, moves at an almost glacial pace comparatively. The aching wistfulness of "The Old House" is an album stand-out, anchored in an acoustic guitar, an uneasy lullaby that never quite settles into itself: "I think to myself I got the things that I wanted, but I can't help think there's something else that I forgot to do." A recent press interview called Malice K a shapeshifter, but he's not amorphous in that way. He's decisive and intense, more concerned with carving his own path, and building his own world. Every part of Malice K is distinctly himself: from his sweaty high-octane shows to the high-flash high-contrast photos; from his gnarled and unsettling illustrations to the studio recordings that vacillate between grief and tenderness, there's an exceptional ferocity across everything Malice K touches. AVANTI feels lived in, like peering into an abandoned house through a window smeared with grimy fingerprints, relics of a life well-lived scattered inside - despite being a debut, there's the sense that Malice K arrived fully-realized, imperfections and all.

Sumer Is Icumen In is Quentin Thirionet's (Dhavali Giri, Pairi Daeza) debut album. Still, his musical escapades are vast and varied, based almost entirely on improvisation and live recordings, of which he occasionally distributes tapes without further information. Elusive to categorization and identification, unwilling to fix his musical activity under a stable pseudonym, his projects have ranged from gypsy jazz guitar swings, French traditional songs from Auvergne, and various experimental collaborations. Increasingly closer to electronic instrumentation, he crafted what Belgian label KRAAK presents here as Maibaum, his first ever solo output. As the title goes, this may be a maypole on which his multicolored sonic visions spring about.

Former rope access worker and currently a farmer of organic greens, Thirionet lives up to these lines of work as a musician. He assembles precisely what seems like a subtle balance between high manmade structures and soft fertilized soils; a high voltage pylon placed in a biotic landscape. It's all an even blend, spontaneous and steady, but this contraption comes from profound considerations. "I chose these tracks among many others," says Quentin, "because I heard the melodies all the time in my mind, and because I cried while playing them without really understanding why."
Armed with nothing more than a blackbox, a sequencer, a freeze pedal, and a tape player, Thirionet orchestrates a vivid rite of polished futures. At times reminiscent of Hans-Joachim Roedelius' enveloping arrangements, Maibaum's ambiances rely on mild repetitive patterns subsequently textured by prickling sprouts, mechanic dislocations and revamps that stoke and brighten the stirring motions. Jim O'Rourke's I'm Happy and I'm Singing comes to mind in terms of its detailed and prismatic nature, but Sumer Is Incumen In has its particular narrative. It's a tale of regeneration, of spring's delicate procedures and allure, a celebration of gracious and fortunate junctions between nature and machinery.

The album unfolds like a massive engine being made flesh to drift along the ether of a sultry land. The terrain turns pleasant and fertile in the title track; the colors and melodies of May start to unravel. Chromatic columns rise and define the scenery's depth of field breeding a synesthetic stream between crystal lights and warbling organisms. Grande Albero Buono Magico Uoma's brisk kaleidoscopic arpeggios sound like scanning a tree's litmus foliage. Then Ciguri takes us back to the foggy swamp of the beginning but is suddenly lit by an insect’s labyrinthine roundabout. The Jeweled Grid is a poem Quanta Qualia's lustrous metallic voice recites as a report of the album's phenomena. "Shiny revelations jump out. Pearls of thought flicker about." Images from within that distill to swirl around among us. The thicket dissolves as the album concludes calmly in Le Concept De Chien N'aboie Pas. Swaying under sieved solar light, leaves and branches tingle until the winds grow weak. All the warm creatures gathered along the way, and all those who danced around the maypole's splendid equilibrium now withdraw, folding up small to foster rebirth once again.

José Badía Berner

I was sent an unfinished version of Dose Your Dreams so that I might contribute string parts. I couldn’t stop listening to the rough mixes I received. A friend asked me how the record was. I replied, “My God, Fucked Up have made their Screamadelica.” And psych-rock-groove it is. The drums mixed wide, propensity for drones, for delay pedal, for repetition, groove. The politics and aesthetics of hardcore married to an “open format” approach to genre. Elements of doo-wop, krautrock, groove, digital hardcore. “None of Your Business Man” opens the album in familiar enough territory, a sax assisted exit from an office space. But things get psychedelic very quickly. By the time the title track arrives, Mike Haliechuk is whispering, wah pedals are in full effect, and we’re wearing oversized t-shirts and pinwheeling. “Accelerate,” the lyrical centrepiece of the album, storms in like Boredoms on a bullet train and dissolves into a digital nightmare. The album closer, “Joy Stops Time,” finds Fucked Up at their most Düsseldorfian, nearly eight minutes of blissful motorik. At the center of it all is Damian Abraham’s scream a man chained, a man tortured, a true protagonist. The effect is one of an epic, every chapter attempting its own narrative devices, its own genre hybridization and it works, it works so insanely well. The drama unfolds like a miniature world of many parts being explored, a map being illuminated, location by location. As with David Comes to Life, there is a story here. David who once came to life is now indentured to a desk job. David meets the elderly Joyce who closes his eyes, opens his mind, and sends him on a spiritual journey. David embarks on his own metaphysical odyssey. He sees a stage adaptation of his own life. He speaks to an angel in a lightbulb. He sees an infinite series of universes as simulations within simulations. Meanwhile, Lloyd Joyce’s lover was sent, decades ago, by Joyce on the same odyssey, but was lost in the void. Lloyd seeks to be found and reunited with his lover. Where will David end up? Will Joyce and Lloyd be reunited? Dose Your Dreams meaning: treat your dreams as you would a dream, allow yourself to be lost within them, allow them to open your heart and your mind, enjoy them as you would a drug. Reach out for my hand and pull me close. Owen Pallett.

Scottish experimental/electronic musician Drew McDowall's lifelong interest in an elegiac solo bagpipe style called pibroch (ceòl mòr in Gaelic) has been an inspiration for much of his previous work (including Coil's legendary Time Machines). This form, often traditionally used for laments and for tributes to the dead, fuses modal drones with flickering dissonance and plaintive melody evoking an ancient, solemn mood. His latest work, A Thread, Silvered and Trembling, both incorporates and transforms these elements via exploratory electronic processing, weaving an electro-acoustic tapestry of strings, shudders, voids, and voices, alternately disembodied and displaced. Co-produced with engineer Randall Dunn at Circular Ruin Studios in Brooklyn, the collection's four pieces capture McDowall at his most elevated and elusive, in thrall to "the ineffable - that which refuses to be spoken." McDowall's palette here is unusually eclectic, sourced from a dynamic orchestral ensemble arranged by Brent Arnold and comprised of cello, viola, violin, harp (Marilu Donovan of LEYA), and french horn. Ebbing between shrouded electronics and enigmatic, sometimes spectralist orchestration, the album moves with a seething, simmering energy, surging into elegant, uneasy crescendos. The first two pieces are inspired by a liberatory hijacking and inversion of a grim biblical story (and by a cryptic and strange UK simple syrup branding). Opener "Out of Strength Comes Sweetness" shivers with short echo and resonant pads, before shifting into the album's centerpiece: the 14-minute saga "And Lions Will Sing with Joy." A murmuring electrical storm of keening strings and disorienting drones gradually grows darker and denser, until suddenly there's a crack in the clouds, revealing mutated choral voices and sparkling harp. McDowall describes the track as "an incantation to help usher in a break, and a new beginning." The record's latter half evokes a deep untamed animism shot through with spiraling radiance. "In Wound and Water" sways with harp, plucked strings and eerie cello undertows while lush layers of disorientated electronics hang in the dusk. There is no resolution, only a faint gradient of fragile dissipation, leading into the album's harrowing and climactic closer, "A Dream of a Cartographic Membrane Dissolves." Processed voices (credited on the liner notes to "The Ghosts Who Refuse to Rest") contort, whisper, and gather as the rest of the ensemble sharpens, poising to strike. Then it does - grand, tragic stabs of strings and horns lashing the sky, storming heaven by force. The fallout is poetic and inevitable, raining embers into a dark sea. But the journey and catharsis of A Thread linger long after it goes silent. Like so much of McDowall's multifaceted catalog, this is music of immanence and alchemy, attuned equally to the sacred and the profane, to the tile and the mosaic.

Coqueto Records introduces the third edition of the Various Artists series.

This compilation is made up of Rambal Cochet, well known as Volta Cab; Acid Charlie, with an excerpt from his latest live set; Brian Topham, member of SIKU SERIES and known as Papolius Jones and; Rufo, also part of SIKU SERIES and curator and one of the heads of Coqueto Records.

DJ Support: Gilles Peterson (BBC Radio 6 Music), Tom Ravenscroft/Deb Grant – New Music Fix (BBC Radio 6 Music), Huey Morgan (BBC Radio 6 Music)

Cut from material recorded in April 2021 at Fish Factory studios in London, the album’s title Abbreviations nods to the editing and post-production processes that trimmed the original recordings into seven succinct and intricate tracks. Making space for collaborators Ernesto Marichales (percussion), Miryam Solomon (vocals) and Valeria Pozzo (Violin, viola), it builds on the critically-acclaimed success of Sound & Reason (supported by Gilles Peterson and Mary Anne Hobbs) to bring out different shades of the group’s shape-shifting sound.

‘Elevator Company’ condenses twenty-minutes of jamming around Tal Janes’ hypnotic guitar line into a low-lit lounge groove that subverts the tropes of elevator music associated with some forms of easy listening jazz. Featuring Solomon’s wordless vocals, the piece blurs the lines between ambient and improvised music, creating a warm and intimate atmosphere reminiscent of classic RnB recordings.

On a different tip, ‘The Spin’ is a trance-like freak-out drawing on the final reserves of energy at the tail end of two days of solid recording. Reflecting guitarist Janes’ idea that "music really starts happening after a while, once you feel like you have nothing left to offer," the hypnotic rhythm section sets the tone for an fraught and frazzled guitar solo that seems to dissolve the very edges of time and space in the process.

An album that speaks to Qwalia’s endless capacity for self-renewal and uninhibited expression, Abbreviations takes its cue from the group’s name to communicate something ineffable about the nature of music, rhythm and sound that must be experienced to be truly understood.

With Pere Ubu on hiatus since 1982’s excellent ‘Song Of The Bailing Man’, David Thomas had recorded a` much-praised solo album and the band had now signed to a major label. In a period of rampant world commercialism, what would happen next? Another crucial era for the band unravelled, Pere Ubu’s journey charted new undulating territory and so began a three-album escapade that retooled our understanding of what pop music is. “Solid as the band can be, it's also likely to dissolve songs from the bottom up. For all Pere Ubu's uncertainty, the band isn't arbitrary; its music has the off-the-wall unity of a Marx Brothers routine,” said Jon Pareles of The New York Times. In 1991, ‘Worlds In Collision’ became “the most atmospheric, carefully sculpted recording in the band's 13-album catalog.” (Tom Moon, Spin).

London producer Keplrr debuts on Midgar with ‘Plumes’. Known for his productions on trendsetting outlets like Control Freak Recordings and Pressure Dome where he showed his excellent take on forward thinking broken techno music, right here for Midgar he uses a more straight forward approach with two versions of title track ‘Plumes’. The original is a subtle, percussive and playful techno groover, where the ‘Meditation Mix’ flips this impeccable groove into an airy atmospheric after-house mood. Second track ‘Pulse’ continues on this breezy atmosphere, it’s a floaty eyes-closed deep trip, with carefully arranged drums creating the perfect breakdown. Keplrr’s creative process delves into the profound, seeking to encapsulate the sensation of falling or morphing, blurring the lines between reality and reverie. His aim is to transport listeners to a state somewhere between a dream and a trip, where the boundaries of perception dissolve, and the subconscious takes flight. This EP embodies that quest, each track a sonic voyage into the depths of consciousness.

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.

Few recording artists have aligned the quantity and quality of their releases as well as New Zealand singer/guitarist Roy Montgomery has in 1995. Beginning with kranky's release of the soundtrack for an imaginary film That That Is...Is(Not) by Roy's duo Dissolve early in the year, a series of superb albums and singles have been issued by a variety of labels across the world. Each one of them is a must have. Most recently, the Drunken Fish label released a collection of pastoral drones entitled Scenes From The South Island, singles have appeared on the Roof Bolt and gyttja labels, and further singles are scheduled with Ajax, Siltbreeze and others.
Temple IV is the first solo recording by Roy Montgomery on kranky. The album was recorded by Roy on a 4 track tape deck and then thickened up with monophonic moog. The tracks on the album are thick with interwoven guitar lines and moog drone, inspired by the Guatemalan rain forests and the mysterious ruins of the temple and ruins Roy visited there.
Roy Montgomery spent the past year in New York, Chicago and London before returning to New Zealand. While in the UK he played live with Flying Saucer Attack and collaborated with spoken word performer Kirk Lake. A brief tour across the United States in September saw Roy performing before enraptured audiences in New York, Boston, Chicago, Detroit and Los Angeles.
The long overdue recognition of Roy Montgomery as a crucial figure in New Zealand's musical history as a member of The Pin Group, Shallows and Dadamah, is now augmented by his new recordings. Temple IV will serve to extend and deepen that appreciation.

Hailing from South Korea, the mind & body trained on the raves of Seoul, and across the country we have Jesse You. The gifted producer has embodied 3 original cuts which are showcasing a hefty range of electronic sound. Describing it using standard words would be too banal, so would prefer to say it is interstellar, from dark to funk and served at absolutely correct temperature. Because it is important not to melt the vinyl but to melt the gooey part inside the head. Jesse is no stranger to sound production and have proved this with “Tone Select” a disc that requires shoes which can stand the test of time on the dancefloor.

On the remix duties its Z@P, resident of many prestigious electronic music communities all over the world and one of the hardest working producers of our time. He has applied a deep burner vision on the original track which allows to dissolve in space time continuum given a correct, as well as an incorrect setting. This 12” Vinyl performs many tasks, some of those you know and some of those you have yet to discover, just select the tone.

Glasgow’s Somewhere Press return with their inaugural vinyl release, a new album from Madelyn Byrd aka Slowfoam. Mining the seam between ecology and technology, Byrd offsets syrupy, dissociated electronics with sparse acoustic instrumentation and expressive field recordings.

The polyrhythmic pulse of the natural world surges through Byrd’s productions, and though the sounds are mostly electronic and strictly metered, a landscape teeming with insects, birds, and wildlife fills the horizon. We’re languidly ushered through the gates on the opening 'Enlightened Smudge on the Machine', juxtaposing glassy tones with flute (from Berlin-based sound artist Diane Barbé) and skittering percussion that could have been lifted straight off Björk’s 'Vespertine'. "No traffic, under the stem," a stoic voice muses while sounds dissolve into waterlogged ambience. There are hints of vintage West Coast new age music, but Byrds' over-arching theme is one of a contemporary digital reality slowly harmonising with its distant, bucolic past.

Field recordist Pablo Diserens provides some of the album's most arcane material, handing over environmental recordings of sulphur pools, Arctic terns and glacial streams. The lengthy 'Divine Morpho, Shimmering' deploys a swarm of insects, forming a looped, uneven rhythm that counters Byrd's pulsing electronics. Choral stems mesh with uncanny strings, blurring the line that separates artificial from organic sound sources. Byrd uses mutation and reconstruction as a form of "speculative melting" to bring us closer to utopia. On 'Like Phantom Memories In The Slinking Storm’, one of the album's most levitational moments, they tease twangy harp-lyre plucks into dubbed-out smudges, eventually given a reprise on 'Grief Rituals' where the same riffs are stretched into slower phrases, queered against giddy, xenharmonic drones.

Bird calls and tremulous exotica mark the brilliant 'Fragrant Dusking', and ‘Soft Body Virisdescence' takes us to a gurgling, kaleidoscopic climax, with electronic processes thrust into the foreground. 'Of Data & Delight' distills all the album’s sonic elements into a sort of delirious fever dream, using pitched animal calls to signal sensuality. It's not ambient, exactly, even if it shares space with the 3XL crew's sludgy eroticism, and it's not wholeheartedly electro-acoustic either. The record exists at a place of convergence, as one era wrestles with a new dawn, and real life glimpses high fantasy.

Ladi6 is a singer with soul. A singer with a hip-hop background and masses of pop-appeal. A singer who first gained attention through her features with the legendary New Zealand export-band Fat Freddy's Drop, but who has also performed alongside such diverse artists as Gil Scott-Heron, Mayer Hawthorne and Mos Def. In short: A singer whose eyes have seen much and whose style is not governed by rules. As if that wasn't enough, her enormous charisma enables her to win her audience over within minutes with full support of her band of Parks and Julien Dyne (BBE).
The 30-year old has always endeavored to use music to tear down barriers and dissolve purported genre-boundaries. With her previous album, "Time Is Not Much" (BBE) which was produced by Parks and Mu (Fat Freddy's Drop), Ladi6 has already taken a perfect shot at her goal, which, combined with the interplay between the many diverse elements of the music, has a highly impressive effect. "The Liberation Of…" has already top the New Zealand independent charts for consecutive weeks and her single "Like Water" is the #1 independent New Zealand song on radio.

Delphine Dora is a prolific composer, improviser and musician who has released on a plethora of labels including Recital, Morc, Sloow Tapes, Feeding Tube, Okraïna and more, and ‘Le Grand Passage’ is her Modern Love debut, a stunning set of songs for piano and voice, recorded in one take without overdubs or edits.

In an act of pure expression, Delphine Dora recorded the 8 songs of ‘The Great Passage’ in a single take, succumbing to a whirlwind of inspiration that transported her beyond the material world. Baroque paradigms bleed into fragile, introspective mantras, expressed through a made up language of existential yearning and channeled through piano and voice. It’s music that caresses the sublime, made without any premeditation.

Delphine was nearing the end of a three-day prepared piano residency when an technician stepped in to tune her grand piano for her final performance. He removed the objects from the strings and fixed the pitch, leaving Dora with a freshly tuned instrument. Mesmerised by its new sound, she proceeded to switch on her recorder and pour out her soul, channeling, in her own words, "something greater than myself".

The result is some of the most unusual but elevated material the prolific composer, improviser and multi-instrumentalist has ever recorded, rooted in a deep understanding of European musical history but willing to push at its boundaries, questioning the earthly logic of life and death, asceticism and impiety. Glistening imperfections lash 'The Great Passage' to the physical world, but Dora - seemingly possessed as she quivers in a fictional dialect - lets her fantasies intensify her spirit, lifting the music towards the heavens. It's not sacred music, per se, but it is unashamedly mystical.

On the luxurious, languid opening, Dora dissolves eerily familiar romantic piano motifs into an attentive ceremony, singing with charged emotion. Her words aren't really decipherable, but their resonance vibrates beyond language; it's striking to hear how confident she is in vulnerability. She lets the piano wrap into her voice, connecting us directly to a unique mode of emotional expression by urging us - the listener - to project our own meaning onto her abstracted words.

Dora refers to the act of improvisation itself as a way to indicate "the fragility of being”, and as her words blur in and out of focus, dipping from a hoarse croak to a choking wail, she places herself at the very edge of musical formality, questioning strictures put in place to suffocate self-expression. Her music has often been labeled "outsider", but here she sounds intimate and interconnected, more self-consciously candid than anything traditional might have allowed. She conjures affecting, plainspoken poetry, like a bedside diary written in a hypnagogic, delirious state: a stream-of-unconsciousness, channelling the beyond.

The album title connects to a book dedicated to French philosopher and activist Simone Weil, who famously pored over global religions to ascertain spiritual truths. To Weil, meditation was a passage to access mystical experience, or a bridge between humanity and divinity. In Dora's hands, this idea is a corridor between herself and the listener, a liminal place where she's able to address feelings without making anything explicit. The title, of course, also refers to life, its impermanence, finitude, and fragility, presenting the complex, multi-dimensionality of being through one of the most undiluted, unbridled set of songs imaginable.

Following two revered albums, ‘Dissolve’ in 2017 and ‘Avalanche’ in 2019, London-based electronic songwriter and producer Tusks, aka Emily Underhill, has returned with her third: ‘Gold’.

‘Gold’ took form slowly over several months spent rewriting and reworking; half created at home in the middle of London and half during two solitary trips to Devon, where many of the songs found their inspiration. In need of some space, away from a shared house that had just been through a pandemic together as well as from a relationship that was coming to an end, she travelled to the south-west. It was here that she would get the bulk of her writing done, recognising there were some things she would have to work through alone, and in no small part it came to her in the form of a torrential storm. Bringing the album back to London, Tusks partnered with producer Tom Andrews to bring the tracks to life from studios like Ten87 in Tottenham and SS2 Recording in Southend.

Causa Sui's three volumes of Summer Sessions are back in print! This time on the band's own label, on individual LPs for the first time since they were first released in 2008 and 2009. Re-packaged in El Paraiso's signature style. Originally the Summer Sessions were intended as a side project for the band - a chance to explore their love for other genres such as American free jazz, krautrock, 1970s soundtracks, as well as the psychedelia and detuned stoner-rock that characterized Causa Sui's first two albums. But these three albums came to define the band, and have become modern classics of psychedelia and progressive rock since their initial release ten years ago. In a scene often characterized by loyalty to a specific period, there's something refreshing about Causa Sui's eclectic approach. With several guest appearances by Coltrane-devotee Johan Riedenlow on sax and electronics wiz Rasmus Rasmussen, Causa Sui venture far beyond stoner-rock platitudes. Take the grandiose opening statement for example - the 24 minute "Visions of Summer" taking up the entire A-side: here new and old sounds dissolve in a mindbending excursion that recalls Future Days-era Can, breezy tropicalia or Herbie Hancocks Mwandishi group, as much as it sparks associations to Kyuss or Hendrix. Other tracks, such as the frenetic Rip Tide (vol. 2), heads into straight up free jazz territory with Riedenlow going absolutely bonkers on the sax. But this set also allows plenty of room for atmospheric pieces such as the sun-drenched "Venice by the Sea" (vol. 3) or the Morricone-esque "Cinecitta" (vol. 2).