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Veteran NYC based Scottish electronic musician Drew McDowall's latest work is his loftiest, most liturgical, and least industrial outing to date —and potentially the apex of his recent discography.Named after an ancient Greek word for votive offering, Agalmaexudes a hooded, devotional aura, creaking and keeling under vast rafters of stone, stained glass, and shredded wires. It's a music of majesty and mystery but also modernity, McDowall's refined modular system shape-shifting strings, piano, pipe organ, and choral masses into disorienting synthetic mirages of the sacred. He cites the intersection of “joy, terror, and the elegiac” as a centering inspiration –or, phrased more bluntly, “that 'what the fuck is going on' feeling.”



As a career collaborator himself, with stints in Coil, Psychic TV, and countless other shorter-lived partnerships, it's telling that McDowall chose this project to gather such an impressive spectrum of peers. Italian synthesist Caterina Barbieri, American drone organist Kali Malone, prolific multi-instrumentalistRobert Aiki Aubrey Lowe, operatic Humanbeast vocalist Maralie Armstrong-Rial, Saudi producer MSYLMA, and warped futurist beat-makers Bashar Suleiman and Elvin Brandhi cameo across the album's 42 minutes, contouring McDowall's nuanced negative spaces with shudders, shadows, and shivering flickers of serenity. Each of them shines in their spotlight, elevating these elusive alchemical states into surreal revelations of texture and transcendence.



McDowall's original working title for the record is revealing: Ritual Music.He speaks of his creative practice in ceremonial terms, negating binaries by seeking the middle path to anuminousequilibrium that erases the distinction between the inner and outer worlds.These compositions feel similarly processional and intuitive, at the crossroads of holiness and hallucination, the sacred vertigo of yawning naves rising into untouchable night skies. It's a vision of industrial music as enigma and invocation, cryptic hymnals of shroudedbeautysummoned in catacombs and crumbling cathedrals.



Despite its depths, Agalmais also an album of immediacy and emotion. Celestial laments of and for times of unrest and suffering. McDowall characterizes his initial intention for this music as an to attempt to convey experiences he felt incapable of putting into words: “To try and approach sublimity, or at least acknowledge it in some way.”Agalmamore than acknowledges the ineffable –it embodies it.

Porridge Radio grew out of Dana Margolin's bedroom, where she started making music in private. Living in the seaside town of Brighton, she recorded songs and slowly started playing them at open mic nights to rooms of old men who stared at her quietly as she screamed in their faces. Though she eventually grew out of them, for Margolin these open mic nights unlocked a love of performing and songwriting, as well as a new way to express herself. She decided to form a band through which to channel it all, and be noisier while she was at it - so Porridge Radio was born. Inspired by interpersonal relationships, her environment - in particular the sea - and her growing friendships with her new bandmates (bassist Maddie Ryall, keyboardist Georgie Stott, and drummer Sam Yardley) Margolin's distinctive, indie-pop-butmake-it-existentialist style soon started to crystallise. Quickly, the band self-released a load of demos and a garden-shed-recorded collection on Memorials of Distinction, while tireless touring cemented their firm reputation as one of UK DIY's most beloved and compelling live bands. The band's sound - bright pop-rock instrumentation blended with Margolin's tender, open-ended lyrics - has developed and refined. Now, they are taking that development a step further, as they put out their label debut, Every Bad.

Compositions and lyrics by Conny Fornbäck. Eurorack, LYRA-8, speech synthesis and vocals by Conny Fornbäck. Additional drums on Geosmin by Zeke. Produced, recorded and mixed at Grappling Hook Studios, Stockholm, Sweden. Mastered by Rude 66. Curation and executive production by Mika Hallbäck Vuorenpää. Artwork by Titta Kallio and Fredrik Möller. Photograph: “Attentive gaze - Painful attention” (detail) by Guillaume-Benjamin-Amand Duchenne de Boulogne.

Samuel Rohrer CONTINUAL DECENTERING
With his Arjunamusic label and a growing catalog of categorydefying releases, Samuel Rohrer continues to quietly, yet confidently, make a name for himself as a genuinely unique Gigure within the European electronic music realm. In the current era, talk of blurring boundaries between musical genres and attitudes is more the rule than the exception, but not always something done with any degree of success. Rohrer is one of those rare alchemical explorers to have truly created a hybrid which is all his own, one that does not just exist to melt distinctions for its own sake, but is a natural result of years of experimentation with both the determination of electronic music and the ludic spirit of ‘free improvisation.’ On his newest offering, Continual Decentering, this vision is applied to a set of mostly in real time (live) performed explorations. 
In keeping with his many years’ worth of fruitful collaborations, the tonal palette on this new record is one that is expectedly rich for those familiar with his work, yet still surprising in terms of how exactly the differing tonal colors come together. Representative tracks like Spondee and The Fringe are brimming with dub pulses, noir shivers and blooming timbral variations that are in many places carefully isolated / focused and in other places blended together in vivid fusions. In terms of the emotional atmosphere created here, the pensive and questioning tone hearkens back to the ‘wide open’ state of electronic music in the mid-late 1990s, yet with a greater clarity and maturity of vision that makes this music feel like a possible answer to aesthetic questions being raised at that time. As with Rohrer’s most recent solo work, like the Range of Regularity LP, Continual Decentering showcases the artist’s skill in turning the drum kit into a lead instrument. While the term “lead instrument” denotes a kind of exuberant “Glash,” or a clear separation from the rest of the voices in an ensemble, we can take the term to mean something different throughout this listening program of 13 short vignettes: that is to say, everything else within the audible environment exists to complement the character of the percussive playing rather than to stand apart from it. It helps that Rohrer has, in fact, developed a unique and complex hybrid system in which drum hits trigger modular synthesizer processes, the use of which makes for an incredibly fluid response time between distinct sonic events. In contrast to the previous Range... LP, this new offering is propelled less by interlacing threads of intensity and more by a shared sense of deep listening. As displayed on pieces like All Too Human, there is a profound sense of attention to silences or thoughtful pauses that maybe hints at another crucial aspect of Rohrer’s style: over the course of this program, we tend to hear the player not only playing but listening, an activity which makes perfect sense given the sense of instrumental dialogue already mentioned. All of the above come together to give Continual Decentering a “live”-ness that will easily translate from recorded document to dynamic performance.

Satin is the first solo EP from Lack, the alias of Manchester based artist Charlie Foy - having previously featured on various twelves for the Cong Burn collective. Recorded between 2016 and 2019, these tracks were started during long train journeys, before being finished in the studio. More introspective than previous material, these tracks offer a unique insight into the window of serenity that comes from movement and being in-between places.

These exceptionally balanced and well-crafted compositions use production techniques that explore the relationship between the natural and synthetic, using transients from field recordings to trigger machines, as well as granular synthesis and resampling techniques that further blur this distinction. Equally suited to listening at home or in a club context, these tracks reward deep listening and continually reveal details with each listen.

All Music Written & Recorded by David Drucker at The Skinny Apartment in Ridgewood, Queens, 2017
Featuring Mike Green (Mezzanine Swimmers) on guitars on "I Took Too Much Acid in 7th Grade," Cop Funeral on
electronics on "Seafood Special," Chris “Mr Transylvania” Shields on background vocals on "Massachusetts Is a Magical
Place," Eva “Nighttime” Goodman on violin & backing vocals on "The Ridgewood Ripper"
Painted Faces is the long (strange/trip) running voyage of weirdo David Drucker, began in Florida in 2009 and decamped
to NYC in 2011. It has sometimes been a loose band in the past with a revolving lineup of outsiders and interlopers
(known as The Freak Band), but is usually a solo endeavor, and the bulk of the recordings have been done as such. PF
has always been a home recording solo project, one-man-band style heavy on psychOdelic/outsider
folk/noise/experimental vibes. He started self releasing CD-Rs in the early days and quickly jumped to tapes on a variety
of labels including Already Dead, Lava Church, J&C, Null Zone, Tall Tapes. A "legendary" CD compilation on Gulcher
Records and an LP from Already Dead and Almost Halloween Time in Italy brings us to the here and now. Tales from the
Skinny Apartment is somewhere around the 20th or so Painted Faces release...he has long lost count.
Drucker runs/curates gigs (and records at) the Skinny Apartment, his dwelling place in Ridgewood Queens,
which some folks have called the "realest DIY zone in NYC." He also rips in Dead River Company, Big Hiatus, Shecky,
Canyon River Blues and countless other unknown subterranean improv zoner outfits. "Ripping" involves keeping it
freaky and weird and ripping sets wherever/whenever, i.e. always being down to perform whether in a kitchen or a
packed ballroom....no diva bullshit, just plugging in (or going sans electricity) and playing...always giving it your
all...Ridgewood Rippers are the crew of artists that populate Ridgewood and the loose "scene" around the Skinny
Apartment...much of it is in jest, a self-inflated mythology of nonsense which is pervasive in all rock and roll "scene"
histories. As a student of rock/pop history, Drucker is fascinated by the loose associations that connect folks from
various zones together...i.e. Miles Davis and The Grateful Dead...it's all the same though, the labels and genre
distinctions are completely arbitrary. We're all in this together, now more than ever...to be a "ripper" is simply to
"rip"...no nonsense!
Painted Faces has toured all over the USA and Canada numerous times, spreading the ripper gospels, and is
gearing up for their second European tour. He is known for falling apart on "stage," with performances heavy on humor,
horror, stoned digressions, and cathartic bouts of therapy, part performance art/part standup comedy, eradicating the
lines between performer, performance, and audience one show at a time

2019 marks the 20th anniversary of ‘Low Birth Weight,’ the second album by Piano Magic, then a loose collective of musicians centred around founder songwriter, Glen Johnson. Though a year later, the collective would take shape as a bona fide internationally touring group, in 1999, Johnson had one foot in his native Nottingham and the other in his new home of London where, finding himself label manager at Rough Trade Records, also became highly prolific, releasing his own records across a myriad of micro-labels (Che, Wurtlitzer Jukebox, Darla, Rocket Girl, etc).

By his own admission, ‘Low Birth Weight,’ owes much to the East London experimental group, Disco Inferno who, embracing sampling technology, attempted to turn pop music inside out. By 1995, the Inferno had burnt out but Johnson remained inspired by their playful, subversive manifesto and thus, the album here, partly produced by “Nottingham’s own Martin Hannett,” Martin Cooper, is difficult to pigeonhole either at the end of the millennium or even now. Drum kit signals are fed through a tiny amp literally inside a cardboard box; breathing is employed for rhythms; kick drums are replaced with broken glass; there’s a ragbag of tablas, huge slap back delay and phase, theremin, shortwave radio, and more.

Aside from the DI benchmarks, ‘Low Birth Weight’ bears the marks of an infatuation with the dreampop of the time – the guitar saturated in delay and overdrive – inspired by the likes of AR Kane and Kitchens Of Distinction and not the more languid “shoegaze,” which has oft been levelled at LBW.
There’s a revolving door of guests on the album, including Pete Astor (The Loft/The Weather Prophets) on a cover of Disco Inferno’s ‘Waking Up’; Simon Rivers of The Bitter Springs supplies lyrics and voice to ‘Crown Estate’ and ‘Dark Secrets Look For Light’; Jen Adam, then an American art student on a year’s placement in London, writes and sings ‘The Fun Of The Century,’ a personal account of being pushed off a roof at a party by someone she thought a close friend.

‘Low Birth Weight’ is undoubtedly of its time, though undoubtedly more playful and literary than much of the music made during the late 90’s and a fascinating bridge between dream pop and experimental electronic music.

In her varied career that would combine art gallery installations, major film soundtrackings and commissions for Atari, Suzanne Ciani’s earliest experiments remain some of her most challenging, beguiling and timeless... Flowers Of Evil ticks all the above boxes and flicks switches that would power-up a new uncharted universe of her own musical modernité. Finders Keepers present the first-ever release of these vital archive recordings.

As a genuine vanguard of electronic music composition at the forefront of the modular synthesiser revolution in the late 1960s, Suzanne Ciani’s forward-thinking approach to new music would rarely look to the past for inspiration, which makes this unheard composition from 1969 a rare exception to the collective futurist vision of Ciani and synthesiser designer Don Buchla. In choosing to adapt the controversial prose of French poet Charles Baudelaire, Suzanne would join the ranks of ongoing generations of pioneering musicians like Olivier Messiaen, Karlheinz Stockhausen, Serge Gainsbourg, Etron Fou Leloublan, Celtic Frost and Marc Almond (not forgetting Star Trek’s William Shatner!), all equally inspired by the 19th century writer’s works of “modernité” (modernity), a self-coined term dedicated to capturing the fleeting, ephemeral experience of life in an urban metropolis, best exemplified in his symbolic, erotic and macabre ode to Parisian industrialisation, Les Fleurs du mal (Flowers Of Evil).

In her varied career that would combine art gallery installations, major film soundtrackings and commissions for Atari, Suzanne Ciani’s earliest experiments remain some of her most challenging, beguiling and timeless... Flowers Of Evil ticks all the above boxes and flicks switches that would power-up a new uncharted universe of her own musical modernité. For the many enthusiasts that have already drawn the parallels between Baudelaire’s writings and experimental/electronic music (a relationship rivalled only by the likes of J. G. Ballard and Aldous
Huxley) some might instantly recognise an unconscious sistership between this recording and another 1969 electronic adaptation of Flowers Of Evil by celebrated female electronic composer Ruth White. An interesting distinction of White’s excellent version of Flowers Of Evil (released via Limelight records, home to the likes of Fifty Foot Hose and Paul Bley) is that its dark tone generation and vocal manipulation was created with a Moog synthesiser, the commercially triumphant
rival to Suzanne and Don’s Buchla Systems (Buchla and Moog’s historic, simultaneous, neck-and-neck synth developments are well documented.) The fact that Ciani’s version was never intended for commercial release (not unlike her 1975 Buchla concerts, which could easily have taken Morton Subotnick’s Bull by the horns!) is also poetically reflective of the nature of Ciani and Buchla’s alternative perspective. The choice to present this extract from Flowers Of Evil in its intended French language further distances Ciani’s faithful reaction from some of its better-known variations. Having attempted to voice the poem herself, the multilingual Italian-American composer’s French accent did not meet her own standards, resulting in the request for a fellow unnamed French student who lived on campus at Mills College in Oakland to accurately verbalise the section of Baudelaire’s collection entitled Élévation.

180g Limited

Life is but an Empty Dream is the seventh full length from long-form ambient composer OKADA.
By pressing play, Gregory Pappas, the man behind the moniker, requires your full attention. Waves of crashing sound swirl around viscus beats and cavernous staccato piano. Sound becomes broken to be reconstructed many times over. This is not the lovesick nor heartbroken OKADA we've witnessed before. This is a cathartic, disillusioned, OKADA, out the other side, worse for wear but building anew.
The proximal six-minute opening to the album expounds destruction and disintegration, chaos and rebirth. The eye of this storm then disseminates wide allowing a female vocal breath to imply "again." Have these destructive waves ultimately lead to pleasure? Or moments of rage that have eventually lead to acceptance? It is evident that there is a need, a yearning, an ache, that percolates to the surface on Life is but an Empty Dream. This, mind you, has all happened in the first ten minutes of the album.
Pappas, as with all OKADA albums, has put every fiber of his being into the creative process. Such focus and shroud that hangs over the album lead us to assume Pappas' is in an antithetical state than the one apparent on 2016's ode to the blossom- ing relationship Love Telepathic.
Life is but an Empty Dream features four long from tracks that effortlessly progress through extended vignettes encompassing ambient, post-industrial, chillwave and even IDM. Life is but an Empty Dream also has the distinction of being the first OKADA album to be pressed to vinyl and will be available on May 24th

London's elusive Lukid has never been one for convention. In the few short years between 2007-2012, he struck out on a seemingly effortlessly impeccable run of releases on fellow iconoclast Darren 'Actress' Cunningham's mighty Werkdiscs imprint, as well as his own label Glum. Those albums and EPs flaunted genre distinctions and embraced a freewheeling approach to melody, rhythm and atmosphere that felt at once exotically psychotropic and yet grounded in a resolutely english eccentricity. Thus, they feel like especially-prescient recent classics that continue to find new fans.

In the intervening years, Lukid's energy has been poured into his stunning monthly transmissions on NTS while his output has been sparse aside from a pair of mindbending EPs via Liberation Technologies and Glum, respectively. Those radio sets serve as a telling blueprint for his contribution to the ongoing Arcola project. From low slung Memphis rap mixtape cuts to clattering industrial cassette rarities, turbulent grime and outsider synth hallucinations there is a warped palette that comes vibrantly alive across the four included tracks here. The stormy bump and spectral melancholy of 'The Drip' and 'Clappers' seems to wed them together as thematic bedfellows across both sides of the EP while 'Head Shrinker' tries to squeeze an overcast psych-pop opus out of a rack of malfunctioning hardware. Spit out the other side of this ride you exit to the chopped-and-screwed goth grime of 'Conked Out', having had your brain smeared with the uniquely viscous ectoplasm that only Lukid can excrete. Perfectly slimy.

Fifth part of the Strata-East Dolphy Series, Glass Bead Games is arguably the crown jewel of the Strata East movement, an amorphous genre that treads an unusual path between post-bop, 70's avant-garde and spiritual jazz, with a groove.

Glass Bead Games is full of revelations at many levels. First, the decade of the 1970s did produce genuinely creative, "human" new music flowing from the jazz mainstream; second, Bill Lee was more than Spike's dad: he was a superlative bassist, a team player of the first order, a powerful catalyst who, if anything, deserves to be better known than his son; third, Billy Higgins was, as so many musicians insist, a once-in-a-lifetime drummer—the bellows inspiriting the collective flame.

Most importantly, Clifford Jordan was an artist of the first order, his playing so effortless and unforced, unselfconscious and focused, mature and wise that, at a time when altissimo fury was all the rage, it's small wonder his authentic voice frequently went unheard. His musical rhetoric is so personally expressive, its substance so compelling, the listener couldn't care less about the extraordinary technique required to convey its captivating message. Compared to some of his more acclaimed peers he's a less aggressive yet paradoxically more directive and shaping influence. The climaxes, rather than spelled out, are merely suggested, registering with deep and lasting impact on the listener. It all comes down to learning the language, those precious little beads. Not every player, including Jordan or the listener, can use it like Shakespeare, but all can learn to read Shakespeare and understand its principles of arbitrariness and serendipity, of invariance and transformation.

Jordan, no less than Shakespeare, requires a like-minded cast of players—in this case four musicians of such redoubtable proficiency that each remains committed to keeping the beads in play. He's not a man content with a mere musical "dialogue" with his fellow musicians nor is he about to take the initiative in pulling his troops up to his level. Instead he begins to tell a musical story that's so compelling his three comrades are inspired equally to contribute to a collaborative narrative. This is brilliant music-making by a Coltrane- influenced successor who feels no obligation to mime the predecessor. It may be the most significant saxophone performance on record since Coltrane and, providing the listener stays with it for any length of time, the most deeply satisfying. Jordan's game—so effortless, unforced, and "level"—erases distinctions between composed and improvised, soloist and ensemble, narrator and narrative, the dancer and the dance. It seems incapable of wearing out its welcome.

By Samuel Chell/All About Jazz

April 2017, Osaka, Sakura, the beautiful time of the cherry blossom. We quickly get a warm coffee from the drinks vendor down the street, then off to Kabamix' LMD studio downtown. Time is short, the off-days are counted on tour. As the year before at the SVS label camp in Budapest, we stick to the plan: one track a day. This time we have guests! Marimari, Arihirua and Ryoko epitomize the perfect antipodes to the lonesome samurai on his white horse (Shiroi Uma) we had in mind on our first EP (SVS010). Everything flows, everything is improvised, the music itself is the place where we meet, no much talking about what´s happening, we just carry on doing the thing. The studio of Kabamix, longtime soundengineer of Haruomi Hosono, has built up over many years, it´s a hoard of like-minded people. Gekko No Odoriko translates to 'Moonshine Dancer'. The rhythm, as usual a driving force in our music, is converting every listener unwillingly into a squirrelly moving dancer. Heavy, yes, bassy, yes, yet never isolated drums build the foundation of the beatgrid as well as the arrangement. With an ascending condensation of musical events, the track enfolds it´s physical energy vertically and horizontally. And just as the spacey synth enters the track, Mari Mari has entered the studio, a Korg Prophecy under her arm, straight into the recording cabin, recording 'it'. Vocals by Ryoko aka Mt.Chills and us happy bunch. Holy Water: Visiting the holy mountain near Nara national park, the impossible seemed so simple: capturing water. An old man mumbling on the floor next to the entrance, little volvic bottles making their rounds to this special zone, bamboo growing high all over the place, deers walking close by as if there was no distinction between us living beings.

Soundwalk Collective is a multi-disciplinary audio-visual collective founded by Stephan Crasneanscki, including members Simone Merli and Kamran Sadeghi.

The Collective's approach to composition combines anthropology, ethnography, non- linear narrative, psycho-geography, the observation of nature, and explorations in recording and synthesis. The source material of their works is always linked to specific locations, natural or artificial, and requires long periods of investigative travel and field work.

Their recent projects include a collaboration with Patti Smith and reworking the archive of recordings on Jean-Luc Godard's film set.

For the 8th Marionette publication, Soundwalk Collective present 'Death Must Die'. A sound piece that began in 2004 and ended up as a composition for the PS1 radio in NY. For this New release the Collective has revisited the piece in a more musical way.

'Death Must Die' is based on Stephan Crasneanscki's multiple visits to the sacred Indian city of Varanasi, originally known as Kashi and Banares. Sacred texts maintain that Varanasi isn't even a city, but rather a lingam of celestial light, the subtle and cosmic form of Lord Shiva which manifested itself as a city for the sake of seekers of liberation. To bathe in the holy Ganga is to be purified of your sins. To die in Varanasi, is to attain liberation and to bring an end to the cycle of rebirth known as transmigration. Determined to capture the elusive reality of this ancient city, Stephan has day by day recorded and re-imagined his understanding of how to perceive the continuously moving stream of the holy Ganga; performing a simple form of sadhana, which request is to be very alert but also to allow your mind to be quiet, making it easier to slip into the streams, and into the current that both the city and the river are offering.

'Death Must Die' begins before the rising of the sun and reproduces the cycle of a day in Varanasi, going down the river that is believed to be the divinity descended to this Earth in the form of water. She grants us happiness and salvation. The composition attempts to emulate the vibration of Kashi that encourages the kind of interiority that enables a person to get a better perspective on reality than one might have, while constantly being in the current of human life. A vibration dedicated to eliminating the distinction between human and non-human, between alive and dead, between light and dark.

When the new Halloween movie hits theaters in October 2018, it will have the distinction of being the first film in the series with creator John Carpenter's direct involvement since 1982's Halloween III: Season of the Witch. Carpenter serves on the new David Gordon Green-directed installment as an executive producer, a creative consultant, and, thrillingly, as a soundtrack composer, alongside his collaborators from his three recent solo albums, Cody Carpenter and Daniel Davies.

The new soundtrack pays homage to the classic Halloween score that Carpenter composed and recorded in 1978, when he forever changed the course of horror cinema and synthesizer music with his low-budget masterpiece. Several new versions of the iconic main theme serve as the pulse of Green's film, its familiar 5/4 refrain stabbing through the soundtrack like the Shape's knife. The rest of the soundtrack is just as enthralling, incorporating everything from atmospheric synth whooshes to eerie piano-driven pieces to skittering electronic percussion. While the new score was made with a few more resources than Carpenter's famously shoestring original, its musical spirit was preserved.

When the new Halloween movie hits theaters in October 2018, it will have the distinction of being the first film in the series with creator John Carpenter's direct involvement since 1982's Halloween III: Season of the Witch. Carpenter serves on the new David Gordon Green-directed installment as an executive producer, a creative consultant, and, thrillingly, as a soundtrack composer, alongside his collaborators from his three recent solo albums, Cody Carpenter and Daniel Davies.

The new soundtrack pays homage to the classic Halloween score that Carpenter composed and recorded in 1978, when he forever changed the course of horror cinema and synthesizer music with his low-budget masterpiece. Several new versions of the iconic main theme serve as the pulse of Green's film, its familiar 5/4 refrain stabbing through the soundtrack like the Shape's knife. The rest of the soundtrack is just as enthralling, incorporating everything from atmospheric synth whooshes to eerie piano-driven pieces to skittering electronic percussion. While the new score was made with a few more resources than Carpenter's famously shoestring original, its musical spirit was preserved.

Pietro 'Bingo' De Lisi and Alex Carpentieri aka Italian duo System of Survival, have long been renowned for their raucous live cuts, the likes of which have firmly established their name amongst fans of discerning house and techno. Regulars at Ibiza institution, Circoloco at DC10, the boys knack for a tune has also brought them to the attention of respected label outlets such as Bpitch Control, Freak n'Chic, Moodmusic, Rawax and Get Physical. However, their latest release - released here via the emerging Deset Music - might just be their best yet. The label's inaugural release sees the boys perk up with two stunning originals and are back by remixes from none other than two Chi-town legends, Boo Williams and Ricardo Miranda.
Opening up the sounds of the release is 'Nu Soul Era'. A raucous, deep cut that displays all that's excellent about System of Survival, this one goes firmly down the rabbit hole in search of kicks. Characterised by its quite brilliant and catchy baseline, the action is dark and trippy throughout, with a firm emphasis placed on a groove that never lets its guard down throughout. A majestic start to the EP, it gets us underway with some distinction.
System of Survival's other original is 'Funky Left Funky Right'. Again, the duo expertly showcase their penchant for melodic structures, this time via a bleepy baseline that's perfectly suited to peak-time floors. Ricardo Miranda's interpretation goes deep and off-kilter, but remains true to the original's full-on characteristics. A stunning indication of the producer's eclecticism and studio mastery, it's an intoxicating take on a track that's never lacking in suspense.

Seeing us out the door is Boo Williams' remix of 'Nu Soul Era'. The 'Mortal Trance' producer can always be relied on to bring the heat in his own inimitable way, and he does so here with the sort of panache for which he's best renowned. Injecting the original with every more bounce, he wastes no time in getting down to business, setting his stall out via an acid-led, 909-flavoured remix that offers up a tantalising version of what's arrived before. An all-round stunning EP of various shapes and sizes, there's plenty here for fans of discerning house and techno to get stuck into on this one.

Following 2017's 'Path of Ruin', DJ Richard returns to Dial with his much-anticipated sophomore LP, 'Dies Iræ Xerox'. Undoubtedly one of the most distinctive and fully-formed electronic producers in recent memory, DJ Richard imprinted the sound of a bubbling US underground with his label, White Material, founded in 2012 alongside Young Male. His first solo LP for Dial, 2015's 'Grind', found DJ Richard delicately establishing a discipline between his East Coast noise heritage and a physical, emotive tradition of house music, mastered during an extended stay in Berlin. Now firmly settled once more in his hometown of Providence, 'Dies Iræ Xerox' is a personal and uncompromising journey that finds the Rhode Island native in reflective form, journeying without compromise into both his creative influences and personal psyche. In part adapting its title from the Latin hymn 'Dies irae', otherwise known as 'Day of Wrath', 'Dies Iræ Xerox' melds the physical and psychological aspects of DJ Richard's production ethos in sharper, more widescreen vision than before; the oceanic swells of ambience yet more powerful, and the rigid basslines sharper still. With the chaos of the Berlin club scene an increasingly distant memory, the album is enriched with a contemplative, even brittle tone, as informed by film soundtracks and literature as the pulse of city living. Still, this is new material from DJ Richard, a touring DJ as distinctive as any other to be found behind the decks at some of the world's finest clubs and festivals. On 'Dies Iræ Xerox', the artist finds the space to write 'the records I really want to play', and each suggests a template for genuine dancefloor transcendence, beginning with the electrifying 'Vanguard' . The sludgy yet sophisticated crawl of 'Tunnel Stalker' sets the tone for the menacing yet somehow melancholy EBM of 'In Broad Daylight', while the record draws to a breathless close with the affecting, drum machine lethargy of 'Gate of Roses'. Drawing little distinction between his more physically rousing material and searching soundscapes, 'Dies Iræ Xerox' instead finds a passage of catharsis throughout both. 'Dissolving World', the album's breathtaking centerpiece, is a choral feature hypnotically overwhelmed by walls of electronic feedback, forging a dramatic link between old ways and new. On the bold and near-beatless 'Ancestral Helm' and 'Final Mercy', DJ Richard seems to grant both music and raw emotion the ability to simply float in the air, brilliantly, poignantly unresolved. If 'Grind,' inspired by the weathered coastlines of Rhode Island, was a record concerning "the border between civilization and the ocean," then 'Dies Iræ Xerox' is an unapologetic follow-up concerning that between macabre obsessions and fear of death. Produced during a murky, transitional period, DJ Richard found himself particularly drawn to Medieval European art and mysticism, fascinated by depictions and philosophies of the antichrist and end-times. Greatly influencing the uncompromising, apocalyptic tone of the album, these investigations have created an engaging and personal vision of the 'Day of Wrath.'

It's A Funny Old World, And Yet Again, The Black Dog Have Provided The Soundtrack. Our Fast-approaching Dystopia Has Been Envisioned And Documented By The Band For Decades. Now, The Black Dog's Two New Albums, Post -truth And Black Daisy Wheel, Translate Their Growing Horror Into Some Of Their Most Accessible And Impactful Music, Translating Our Manufactured Reality Into High Energy Dancefloor Constructions On Post -truth, And Reflective Ambient Excursions On Black Daisy Wheel.

Long Familiar With The Tropes And Pitfalls Of Esoteric Undergrounds, In Both The Pre- And Post Internet Eras, The Black Dog Have Ventured Deep Into Contemporary Conspiratorial Cultures With A Trenchantly Critical Eye. In The 80s, Conspiracy Theories Were A Tonic For A Sceptical Mind, A Stimulant To Agile Thinking. Today, They Have Become The Stock In Trade Of Mainstream Political Influence. The Scene Has Morphed Into A Rabbit Hole Where Nothing Is 'really' Real, Everything Is A Hoax, And Everyone Is Out To Get You. The Mindset Is Beyond Paranoid, The Discourse So Far Post-fact That Only Opinion And Assumed Identity Matter. Arguing Against Proven Science Is A Part Of The Entry Criteria, And Wilful Pedantry Its Standard Currency. The Impact On Mental Health Is Corrosive: Fear, Uncertainty And Doubt Multiply And Replicate Until The Most Ridiculous Theories Are Invented To Explain The Most Basic Things: Tarmac, Banana Skins, Duvets. Auto-suggestion Is Rife, Where Willing Victims Drink Bleach (mms) At The Behest Of Youtube Videos, Flat-earthers Are Taken Seriously, And The Manufactured Fearful Believe They Are Being Gang-stalked For Finding Monsters On Pixelated Screens. The Distinction Between The Real World And The World Of An Auto-hoaxer Is So Blurred That Reality Melts Away; You're Only Ever One Personal Detail Away From Being Doxxed, At Which Point Reality Bites Back, Hard.

You Couldn't Make It Up, Even Though That Is Exactly What The Conspiratorial Fringe (now One Sharp Corner From The Mainstream) Always Do. The Fact That There Are Real People Involved In This Scene Creates A Real Sense Of Pathos And Anger Which Is Deeply Embedded In The Music On These Two Albums. As Soon As You Start Engaging With People In The So-called 'truth Movement', One Minute It's Painful, But The Next Can Be Genuinely Funny; These Are People Who Are Both On Edge And Upon The Edge Of A Larger Social And Political Reality That, For Worse And For (even) Worse, Defines Our Times. Hence These Two Very Different Albums. Black Daisy Wheel Is Reflective, Often Intense, Frequently Compassionate; While Post -truth Was Written While The Black Dog Was Fully Engaged With People Whose Paranoia Was In Full Swing.

Welcome To Our Disinformation.

Limited To 500 Copies - 180g

It's A Funny Old World, And Yet Again, The Black Dog Have Provided The Soundtrack. Our Fast-approaching Dystopia Has Been Envisioned And Documented By The Band For Decades. Now, The Black Dog's Two New Albums, Post -truth And Black Daisy Wheel, Translate Their Growing Horror Into Some Of Their Most Accessible And Impactful Music, Translating Our Manufactured Reality Into High Energy Dancefloor Constructions On Post -truth, And Reflective Ambient Excursions On Black Daisy Wheel. Long Familiar With The Tropes And Pitfalls Of Esoteric Undergrounds, In Both The Pre- And Post Internet Eras, The Black Dog Have Ventured Deep Into Contemporary Conspiratorial Cultures With A Trenchantly Critical Eye. In The 80s, Conspiracy Theories Were A Tonic For A Sceptical Mind, A Stimulant To Agile Thinking. Today, They Have Become The Stock In Trade Of Mainstream Political Influence. The Scene Has Morphed Into A Rabbit Hole Where Nothing Is 'really' Real, Everything Is A Hoax, And Everyone Is Out To Get You. The Mindset Is Beyond Paranoid, The Discourse So Far Post-fact That Only Opinion And Assumed Identity Matter. Arguing Against Proven Science Is A Part Of The Entry Criteria, And Wilful Pedantry Its Standard Currency. The Impact On Mental Health Is Corrosive: Fear, Uncertainty And Doubt Multiply And Replicate Until The Most Ridiculous Theories Are Invented To Explain The Most Basic Things: Tarmac, Banana Skins, Duvets. Auto-suggestion Is Rife, Where Willing Victims Drink Bleach (mms) At The Behest Of Youtube Videos, Flat-earthers Are Taken Seriously, And The Manufactured Fearful Believe They Are Being Gang-stalked For Finding Monsters On Pixelated Screens. The Distinction Between The Real World And The World Of An Auto-hoaxer Is So Blurred That Reality Melts Away; You're Only Ever One Personal Detail Away From Being Doxxed, At Which Point Reality Bites Back, Hard. You Couldn't Make It Up, Even Though That Is Exactly What The Conspiratorial Fringe (now One Sharp Corner From The Mainstream) Always Do. The Fact That There Are Real People Involved In This Scene Creates A Real Sense Of Pathos And Anger Which Is Deeply Embedded In The Music On These Two Albums. As Soon As You Start Engaging With People In The So-called 'truth Movement', One Minute It's Painful, But The Next Can Be Genuinely Funny; These Are People Who Are Both On Edge And Upon The Edge Of A Larger Social And Political Reality That, For Worse And For (even) Worse, Defines Our Times. Hence These Two Very Different Albums. Black Daisy Wheel Is Reflective, Often Intense, Frequently Compassionate; While Post -truth Was Written While The Black Dog Was Fully Engaged With People Whose Paranoia Was In Full Swing. Welcome To Our Disinformation.

Limited To 500 Copies - 180g

Partition', appropriately produced by label owner Deepak Sharma is gritty and raw, centered on being a powerfully effective DJ tool. It symbolizes a nod to the label's past and longevity but more so signals the future territory and modern world the imprint will reside in.

To commemorate the memorable occasion, one of techno's most authoritative, important and reputable producers, Developer of Modularz distinction has provided two heavy-duty remixes. Additionally, label staple Yuuki Sakai delivers an extraordinary remix to round out a historic release from Hidden Recordings.

With The Object Isn't There UK guitar player and producer Jack Allett has made a deeply personal masterpiece based around cyclical guitar parts and electronic percussion. Playing like a half remembered fever dream with an aesthetic that is ragged, hypnotic and spacey, its two side-long pieces touch on minimalism, kraut-infused dub and euphoric dance floor optimism. As comfortable being played after Manuel Göttschings E2-E4 as right before a Terekke lo-fi house anthem, it is laced with the melancholy of an early morning post-rave comedown. Yet for all the references and name-checking, it's a record that is hard to compare to anything else, past or present.



BIOGRAPHY



Jack Allett works as a producer in London and has been active for many years as an experimental guitar player, releasing a solo record on Blackest Rainbow and collaborating with UK avant-guitar player Cam Deas. The Object Isn't There was written, recorded, and mixed in Camberwell and Camden, London, UK. 2012-2016.



INFO



This record is about - insofar as instrumental music need be about anything - hallucinations. The title The Object Isn't There serves as a concise definition, derived from the quote 'An hallucination is a strictly sensational form of consciousness, as good and true a sensation as if there were a real object there. The object happens to be not there, that is all.' (William James, The Principles Of Psychology, 1890)



Having experienced constant tinnitus - a form of auditory hallucination - for the last 13 years, Jack has long questioned the distinction of something experienced as being either there or not-there. Even if, strictly speaking, an hallucination is something that's not there, if the reality of how it affects day-to-day existence is undeniable then to any extent that matters, it is there. But The Object Isn't There is no tale of woe, nor simply a response to this one condition, and tinnitus need not be considered only as distressing or distracting. Allett sees it merely as one example of many things in life that cross this uncertain terrain:



There are obvious parallels here with the notion of active listening. There is room for emotion too, particularly the kind of overwhelming, -all-consuming emotion that, once it fades, is hard to believe was actually how you felt. Essentially the music here is concerned with being overwhelmed by a sensation, never really being sure to what extent you are conjuring it up yourself, to what extent it exists independently of you, but ultimately deciding that it doesn't much matter; the sensation itself was undeniable.

— Jack Allett

A swirling haze with a plenitude of sounds bobbing to it's surface it's a heartfelt

Introverted Dancefloor is Bevan Smith, a New Zealander who has released music under names like Signer and Aspen, and who has played in the Ruby Suns and Skallander throughout the last decade. His prior output has been spread over many international labels and has touched on sundry genres (like techno, IDM, folk, ambient) while featuring restraint and sophistication as compositional hallmarks.

As Introverted Dancefloor, Smith has kept those features as guiding principles while allowing a more propulsive low end to dominate the construction of this music, winding up with understated but energetic dance tracks. Gestation, too, is a prominent attribute of this music, though not necessarily an obvious one. Smith started these songs with hundreds of layers, which he then pared down to a few core elements before rebuilding again.

For Introverted Dancefloor, Smith limited himself to the use of two synthesizers, one mic, one filter, and one effects processer. This constraint is not obvious upon listening as the album works across the idioms of electro, Detroit techno, pop house, and leftfield disco, playing with the line between fluid melody and drum machine programming. Each track has a playlist as its scaffolding, Smith's goal being to filter a certain set of varied influences through just a couple of instruments. Metro Area's Miura' (Original Mix) turned into Introverted Dancefloor's Happiness is such a mess/Pipedream.' If there can be such a thing as a subtle banger, then Smith may have earned that distinction here. Take it high' seems to be a constant ascent with its climbing bass and layers of chords, relying on no hackneyed drops or releases for its crescendo. Smith's layering practices show their precision on tracks like Even if you try' and Tiger bones,' in which disparate elements contribute to pointed melodies, an unidentifiable percussive part entering the same expressive plane as a sung line.

One of the record's most striking features is Smith's inclusion of certain elements of a song in a neighboring one (vocals from Pipedream' in Happiness is such a mess,' a synth line from Even if you try' in Always turn your head') to lend a phantasmagorical effect to the procession, blurring the distinction between a track and its reprise. The result is a song cycle wrought from painstaking labor, while nonetheless retaining core values of amorphousness and motion.

There used to be a time when ring tones were important. You were easily recognizable as one of the few people actually owning one of these new gadgets called ›mobile phone‹ (or ›handy‹ as the Germans say). Later you could make an important distinction by choosing a ›cool‹ ring tone...

In May 2014 the Festival »Doofe Musik« (»Stupid Music - Songs for Dreaming, Sedation and Forgetting«) took place at Haus der Kulturen der Welt (HKW) in Berlin. As part of the »Anthropocene Project« the festival focussed on escapism and the special function of music when retreating from reality. Detlef Diederichsen, curator at HKW, and Holger Schulze, Head of Sound-Studies-Lab Berlin, decided to not only focus on music which music lovers usually hate, e.g. ›Schlager‹, German folk music, Light Jazz, but also on ring tones.

The audio logo of Deutsche Telekom has been part of Germany's mobile phone culture from the very beginning so it acted as a starting point to question the usual concepts for ring tones. Using Christian Kellersmann's idea of the »Pocket Symphony« ten artists were invited to come up with adaptations of Telekom's audio logo. The results were performed for the first time during »Stupid Music« and once again in October of the same year when most of the recordings you can find on the album were made.

As you will hear: The short motif, as simple and unforgettable as it is, is ideal musical material.Everyone knows it, everyone has some sort of connection to it and these ten different versions, these ten different positions, open up the most varied possibilities for associations.

It is time that we take the ring tone seriously again. As the most reduced musical form that is the most-widely available in the whole world it contains enormous and unrealised potential!

There is something singularly unique and peculiar in the degree to which seemingly unsettling themes and extreme taboos have been explored, most notably in the medium of film, in the land of Nippon. Free from the constraints of reality, notions of grotesque brutality, torture, fetishism, and sadomasochism, to name a few, have oftentimes served as driving motifs in the examination of the true nature of violence latent in the most repressed reaches of the human mind. Concurrently, in the realm of electronic music, many Japanese producers have often been able to cultivate and harness a daring yet distinctly refined and inimitable form of organized sonic chaos, one almost instantly recognizable to the occidental ear. The music of Tomohiko Sagae, and in particular his latest contribution to Furanum's catalogue, The Spurt of Blood, is perhaps a quintessential example of the confluence of the former themes and latter medium.
At the outset of the record, the beholder is faced with the 'Vacant Eyes' of a staggering monstrosity, a subdued and subjugated automata in the midst of a bleak dystopia, nearly lifeless but for the grudgingly conceded advance of its death march. As a battery of gratuitous aural violence led by a dominant synth is rapidly unleashed in the subsequent composition, a growing malaise transforms into fractured bone and psyche alike, with no distinction made anymore between the tearing of metal, flesh, or the fabric of the mind. Culminating in 'Severe Pain', with limits of endurance breached and descent into madness the only seeming form of respite, relentlessly rolling drums and hauntingly sublime howls provide the context for the dawning realization of pain as a virtue in and of itself, when a demented pleasure and the exhilarative liberation that lies therein begins to emerge. In the final act, reinterpreted by Furanum stalwarts Uncto, roles are tellingly reversed as the vacant eyes of the victim become that of the oppressor. With cold-blooded precision, the original is reengineered into a force of merciless domination, its elements machined and recalibrated for pure power.Words: PSD