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The eighth and latest slate of refined retro-futuristic synth-pop by Liz Wendelbo and Sean McBride aka Xeno & Oaklander is named after and inspired by "the study of what not to do, a negative image of a positive, the other side, the other:" Via Negativa (in the doorway light). Recorded in the fall of 2023 at their modernist Connecticut home fashioned into a two-story synthesizer laboratory and mixing studio, the album is uniquely visionary in spirit yet precision in execution, a contrast central to the duo's enduring chemistry. Embryonic piano sketches were translated to nuanced modular systems, which McBride weighted with "harmonic padding," tuned percussion, and a spectral transfer device capable of "rendering spasms of rhythmic overtonal filigree." Despite the technological complexity of their craft, emotively the songs require no deciphering - these are technicolor widescreen anthems of the cybernetic age. The eponymous opening track sets the pace, soaring sleekly over glittering synths and call-and-response vocals about arias, shattered light, and faces in stereo. From there the record expands and contracts, cycling through a gallery of moods and masks, animated by the band's fascination with drama, "the idea of personae," and theatrical characters. Track by track, a murky, tragic backstory reveals itself: forlorn figures navigating a treacherous mercury mine, alternately poisoned by fumes or buried in collapsing caverns. The tension between Teutonic, utopian synthetic pop and lyrical narratives of ghosts in silos, ruined mills, and the traumas of mineral excavation creates a compelling friction, alternately futurist and obsolete, elevated and subterranean. Wendelbo describes the music's polarities perfectly: "The heavy machinic din of extraction in contrast with the enchantment of the mined precious gems and metals." From bilingual odes to bloodstones ("O Vermillion") to cosmic chrome dance floor classics ("Lost & There" "The present tense can never feel real / So many pasts conspire in the burning sun") to strutting EBM sensualities ("Actor's Foil"), Xeno & Oaklander re-prove themselves masters of the axis of technology and poetry, snaking cables and synesthesia, mining melodies and myths across 15 years of focused artistry. Theirs is a muse still gilded and gleaming, burnished red and silver, attuned to "the unobservable, the unfamiliar, that which you don't see directly."

The eighth and latest slate of refined retro-futuristic synth-pop by Liz Wendelbo and Sean McBride aka Xeno & Oaklander is named after and inspired by "the study of what not to do, a negative image of a positive, the other side, the other:" Via Negativa (in the doorway light). Recorded in the fall of 2023 at their modernist Connecticut home fashioned into a two-story synthesizer laboratory and mixing studio, the album is uniquely visionary in spirit yet precision in execution, a contrast central to the duo's enduring chemistry. Embryonic piano sketches were translated to nuanced modular systems, which McBride weighted with "harmonic padding," tuned percussion, and a spectral transfer device capable of "rendering spasms of rhythmic overtonal filigree." Despite the technological complexity of their craft, emotively the songs require no deciphering - these are technicolor widescreen anthems of the cybernetic age. The eponymous opening track sets the pace, soaring sleekly over glittering synths and call-and-response vocals about arias, shattered light, and faces in stereo. From there the record expands and contracts, cycling through a gallery of moods and masks, animated by the band's fascination with drama, "the idea of personae," and theatrical characters. Track by track, a murky, tragic backstory reveals itself: forlorn figures navigating a treacherous mercury mine, alternately poisoned by fumes or buried in collapsing caverns. The tension between Teutonic, utopian synthetic pop and lyrical narratives of ghosts in silos, ruined mills, and the traumas of mineral excavation creates a compelling friction, alternately futurist and obsolete, elevated and subterranean. Wendelbo describes the music's polarities perfectly: "The heavy machinic din of extraction in contrast with the enchantment of the mined precious gems and metals." From bilingual odes to bloodstones ("O Vermillion") to cosmic chrome dance floor classics ("Lost & There" "The present tense can never feel real / So many pasts conspire in the burning sun") to strutting EBM sensualities ("Actor's Foil"), Xeno & Oaklander re-prove themselves masters of the axis of technology and poetry, snaking cables and synesthesia, mining melodies and myths across 15 years of focused artistry. Theirs is a muse still gilded and gleaming, burnished red and silver, attuned to "the unobservable, the unfamiliar, that which you don't see directly."

On his latest full-length, Low End Activist swerves towards weightless grime and suspended hardcore miniatures to tell a very personal story. The UK-rooted producer continues his habit of zeroing in on a distinct approach for each release, leaving a logical breadcrumb trail of soundsystem science in his wake as he channels decades of bass absorption into 14 atmospheric cuts that prize patience and precision over obvious club functionality.

Municipal Dreams plays out as a semi-autobiographical tour through the Blackbird Leys estate that the Activist grew up on. It’s a lived reflection on inequality and the ripple effect it has in working class communities, using the sonic palette to set the mood and scattering pointed samples throughout to spell out the story.

In sampling the exhaust of a stolen Subaru Impreza, ‘TWOC’ looks back to the recreational car theft which was standard entertainment for the kids in his community. There’s an underlying idea that this ‘council estate sport’ wouldn’t have been so prevalent if there were public services and opportunities presented to the scores of disaffected youth looking for somewhere to direct their energy and frustration.

In ‘Just A Number (Institutionalised)’ LEA alludes to the shattered juvenile detention system, growing up seeing friends and family members locked up at ease with little to no support on being released back into society, just meant that the same cycles of behaviour would play out over and over.

‘Violence’ samples from a short film shot by the drama division of the Blackbird Leys Youth Club to evoke the physical threat which formed a background hum to life on the estate. The industrial mechanics of the local car factory, which served an integral role as a workplace for many in the community, gets sampled in ‘They Only Come Out At Night’ while the ‘Everyone I look up to are either junkies or criminals’ sample in ‘Broke’ looks to a lack of positive role models.

Municipal Dreams isn’t a one-note indictment of life on the estate, ‘Innocence’ captures the simplicity of a child at birth before their environment has time to shape them. The Hope interludes cut through the grim honesty of the longer tracks while a subtle thread of wry humour finds its way into some of the talking heads cutting through the signature LEA murk.

But honesty is the operative word here, and the message feels all the more meaningful at a time when the UK’s social divisions are laid bare in the wake of a devastating stretch of austerity. Returning to Blackbird Leys to shoot images for the photo-zine and album cover, the Activist found the local community centre being demolished. The local pub stands derelict, its faded Welcome sign a grimly ironic portent of the options facing children of the estate in the wider world.

Funnelling his memories, hopes and fears into a singular twist on the bass weight tradition, LEA captures evocative scenes that land somewhere between kitchen sink realism and rave futurism.

Lili Holland-Fricke and Sean Rogan’s debut album “dear alien” is a constellation of radiant improvised impulses, imagined in lucent fragments of cello, guitar and voice. Spacious, tender and glistening with rich electronic distortion, the record melds a spectrum of processed and natural sound as the artists invite listeners into their dreamlike world of synergetic introspections.

Cultivated through a shared spirit of resourcefulness and play, “dear alien” emerges as an organic meeting place in the compositional output of British-German experimental cellist Lili Holland-Fricke and Manchester-born guitarist and producer Sean Rogan. Having studied their respective instruments at the Royal Northern College of Music, both artists have flourished in eclectic solo and collaborative projects, creating intricate and intimate spheres of sound with a deep appreciation for songwriting and improvisation.

Holland-Fricke’s transition from the classical world to writing her own material, and later vastly expanding her palette with electronics, first converged with Rogan’s distinctive flair for production in 2022 on her EP “birdsong for breakfast” and single ‘draw on the walls’. Now, the duo present an album envisioned through true ‘50/50’ collaboration during the summer of 2023, written across two intensive weeks of improvising and experimenting at Rogan’s Greenwich home studio. A convergence of the artists’ sounds and influences, the music was fostered by the idea of making an album with ‘no plan’ and their shared recent discovery of Arthur Russell, to whom the final track is dedicated.

“dear alien” assembles eight compositions that emerged naturally as the duo created sketches with cello and pedals, guitar, tape loops and poetic vocal musings, forming songs that explore themes of waiting, circling back around, and glitchy communication. Moments of drifting through pillowy layers of sound contrast with saturated visions of electronic modification, where the record’s glowing instrumental contours are pushed to the extremes.

The plaintive shades of ‘half blue’ and meandering deliberations of ‘slow thing’ are teased by the friction of static signals and a sense of ever-mutating sonic mass – a sensibility most acutely realised in ‘dawning’, where cello-vocoder eruptions grow in magnitude, the absence of sound between them burdened with something sinister and unspoken. As the artists expand on this piece, ‘It’s the sound equivalent of squeezing your eyes shut to shield against the brightness of something you don’t want to see, only to find that each time you open them again the world is not softening but getting more relentlessly overwhelming, to the point of being totally blinding.’

Three tracks with lyrics – ‘at first’, ‘dear alien’ and ‘seem asleep’ – refract the album’s wistful and melancholic colours into poetic imagery and metaphors, ushering in reflections on relationship tensions and someone close feeling unknown, with hints towards wider unsettled feelings about climate change. In the spirit of lyrical improv, ‘seem asleep’ compiles lone lines from Holland-Fricke’s journals into a cut-and-paste collage around hopeful patience or futile lingering – either way conjuring a softness that welcomes the hazy ambience of ‘for a. r.’, the final composition which soundscapes the summer days spent making the album. As the artists describe of this track, ‘The music kind of leads somewhere, but then kind of leads nowhere, and just meanders around where it is, content to just be walking in a circle back to where it started.’

Emerging from the UK’s vibrant electronic music scene of the early 1990’s, DEFSET has gained recognition for his unique ability to merge elements of dub, ambient, techno, and experimental music, whilst drawing on the acid house, hardcore and jungle of his early career, crafting immersive soundscapes that resonate with listeners on both an emotional and intellectual level.
Following on from his debut album in 2021, DEFSET has spent time developing his sound and on sophomore album ‘Ok, Accept, Continue’ there is more of an organic tone. Blending trip-hop, Gambian kora music and sound system culture through collaborations from MC Spyda and Jally Kebba Susso, DEFSET adds a layer of humanity to the album and attempts to embody the human experience of loss and recovery and it’s accompanying feelings of sadness, anger, and self-medication, as a form of creative expression from grief’s intensity.
DEFSET is the musical moniker of Leo Neelands, a multi-talented artist known for his work in both electronic music and the visual effects industry. With a background in creating stunning visual effects for major Blockbuster films, Neelands brings a cinematic flair to his music, crafting immersive soundscapes that blend atmospheric electronic and techno influences. In addition to his work in music, DEFSET’S background as a VFX Supervisor has allowed him to infuse his music with a distinctive, visual storytelling quality, making him a compelling force in the electronic music landscape.

Available for the first time on vinyl! Death Valley Girls - Live From the Astral Plane. Originally recorded back in 2020 in the heart of a global pandemic, the band reunited to record a live film in their practice space in Los Angeles, CA. "Wow! Getting to do this project was such an honor, and a treat! We finished recording our record Under the Spell of Joy one day before lock down. Rolling out an album under normal circumstances is a huge, and all consuming job. Then figuring out how to compassionately, respectfully, and successfully roll out an album during a world wide catastrophe, and especially an album about spells, and incantations for joy, was a real head scratcher! Getting to work on this live recording during that period allowed us to focus on a way we could be most helpful in a world of sorrow, and forced us to be creative. We were desperate to be of service. We realized astral projection - and concepts around leaving the 3D experience was an exciting idea. If we could connect people on the astral plane, we wouldn’t have to feel so alone! So we decided to start the session with an introduction on how to astral project! Learning how to meditate on this concept turned out to be the greatest gift, and a lasting escape during this terrible time. This recording finally getting to be on vinyl is so exciting! The idea that we can all meet up in sky, and leave our problems behind for a bit is such a fun exercise! Now all you gotta do is drop that needle and fly! Thank you for letting us !" - Death Valley Girls

Blake Lee has always been fascinated by the unknown, and space, in its isolating, mysterious vastness, embodies this theme immaculately. The open void, captured so memorably by Stanley Kubrick in '2001: A Space Odyssey', is Blake's far-reaching canvas on 'No Sound In Space', a cinematic meditation on the cosmos that's painted in nuanced, emotionally sincere colors. The Los Angeles-based composer has been contemplating his full-length debut since 2021, using his guitar as a sonic paintbrush rather than find himself snared in its traditional aesthetic constraints. Transforming its characteristics with effects and subtle processes, he layers sustained tones and intimate improvisations, creating richly visual polychromatic utopias teeming with unknown life.

Since 2011, Blake has been most known for being the guitarist and a music director for Lana Del Rey, notching up three songwriting credits on her acclaimed ‘Ultraviolence’ full length. He sees his solo work is a form of escapism, a place where he can experiment and find comfort and catharsis outside of expectations and formal structure. The album was written instinctively, and Blake made sure he didn't force anything, letting go and getting out of his own way, listening intently as sounds and textures materialized organically. "I didn't want to ruin it by being a perfectionist," he laughs. And his collaboration with Kenyan sound artist KMRU, who runs the OFNOT label and contributes to two of the tracks on the album, occurred similarly organically.

Blake was moved to reach out to KMRU when he caught a performance of 'Natur' at Los Angeles' Zebulon in 2022, leading to a prolonged back-and-forth. They didn't meet in person until earlier this year, by which time they'd become firm friends, continuously sharing music and conversation. KMRU had lent a valuable ear to Blake, who sent early playlists of 'NSIS' that, over the months, slowly evolved into the finished album. It's the first release on OFNOT that's not by KMRU himself; the label emerged last year with the release of KMRU's own 'Dissolution Grip', and Blake's debut immediately expands its sonic universe. Alongside the playlists, Blake also provided KMRU with the tracks' raw stems, which KMRU began to edit and expand in his Berlin studio. 'Miura' and 'Waiting' are the result of this process, two sublime abstractions that augment Blake's dreamlike, euphoric tones with KMRU's pebbly distortions and booming low-end rumbles. And this same playful sense of freeness seeps into Blake's other compositions.

On the misty 'In A Cloud', he surrounds cascading string tones with soft-focus pads that swell until they're like crashing waves, and on the two 'Echoplexx' pieces, he uses delay and reverb to smudge his sounds until they're viscous residue, the harmonies obscured by whooshes of white noise and distant chimes. The mood is quieted somewhat on 'Moving Air', as Blake's swirling tones form half-heard lullabies, coalescing into a dense, melancholy crescendo, and he fills out the sound with reverberant airport recordings on 'Pan Am', letting pitchy My Bloody Valentine-esque drones warble beneath the transitory chatter. Each track melts into the next, forming a billowing, cryptic narrative that leaves more questions than answers. Blake is constantly searching, and fills his unoccupied space with warmth, perception and sensitivity.

Blake Lee has always been fascinated by the unknown, and space, in its isolating, mysterious vastness, embodies this theme immaculately. The open void, captured so memorably by Stanley Kubrick in '2001: A Space Odyssey', is Blake's far-reaching canvas on 'No Sound In Space', a cinematic meditation on the cosmos that's painted in nuanced, emotionally sincere colors. The Los Angeles-based composer has been contemplating his full-length debut since 2021, using his guitar as a sonic paintbrush rather than find himself snared in its traditional aesthetic constraints. Transforming its characteristics with effects and subtle processes, he layers sustained tones and intimate improvisations, creating richly visual polychromatic utopias teeming with unknown life.

Since 2011, Blake has been most known for being the guitarist and a music director for Lana Del Rey, notching up three songwriting credits on her acclaimed ‘Ultraviolence’ full length. He sees his solo work is a form of escapism, a place where he can experiment and find comfort and catharsis outside of expectations and formal structure. The album was written instinctively, and Blake made sure he didn't force anything, letting go and getting out of his own way, listening intently as sounds and textures materialized organically. "I didn't want to ruin it by being a perfectionist," he laughs. And his collaboration with Kenyan sound artist KMRU, who runs the OFNOT label and contributes to two of the tracks on the album, occurred similarly organically.

Blake was moved to reach out to KMRU when he caught a performance of 'Natur' at Los Angeles' Zebulon in 2022, leading to a prolonged back-and-forth. They didn't meet in person until earlier this year, by which time they'd become firm friends, continuously sharing music and conversation. KMRU had lent a valuable ear to Blake, who sent early playlists of 'NSIS' that, over the months, slowly evolved into the finished album. It's the first release on OFNOT that's not by KMRU himself; the label emerged last year with the release of KMRU's own 'Dissolution Grip', and Blake's debut immediately expands its sonic universe. Alongside the playlists, Blake also provided KMRU with the tracks' raw stems, which KMRU began to edit and expand in his Berlin studio. 'Miura' and 'Waiting' are the result of this process, two sublime abstractions that augment Blake's dreamlike, euphoric tones with KMRU's pebbly distortions and booming low-end rumbles. And this same playful sense of freeness seeps into Blake's other compositions.

On the misty 'In A Cloud', he surrounds cascading string tones with soft-focus pads that swell until they're like crashing waves, and on the two 'Echoplexx' pieces, he uses delay and reverb to smudge his sounds until they're viscous residue, the harmonies obscured by whooshes of white noise and distant chimes. The mood is quieted somewhat on 'Moving Air', as Blake's swirling tones form half-heard lullabies, coalescing into a dense, melancholy crescendo, and he fills out the sound with reverberant airport recordings on 'Pan Am', letting pitchy My Bloody Valentine-esque drones warble beneath the transitory chatter. Each track melts into the next, forming a billowing, cryptic narrative that leaves more questions than answers. Blake is constantly searching, and fills his unoccupied space with warmth, perception and sensitivity.

Exquisitely compiled by Discrepant head honcho Gonçalo F. Cardoso from three tapes released earlier this year by the tireless mind-body of Spencer Clark through his own Pacific City Sound Visions, 'This Year In Coconuts Vol. 2' is another revelation into the deeply personal soundworld of this true voyager of both ancient, present and forthcoming times. Coming from a truly singular artist, capable of conveying multiple visions into a labyrinthine-esque mythology all of his own, these seven tracks feel as much part of their original setting as connected pieces from this never ending and puzzling netherworld.

Dedicated to the Temple of Isis in Pompei and opening sides A and B, the two tracks from 'Tempio d'Iside' set up a scenario not far from a dream version of the Temple itself, made from crystal clear synth-lines and levitating ambiences, like drifting into ancient memories from days to come. Making up about half of the compilation, the four tracks from 'Kowloon Spider Temple' drip into a feverish mosaic of Clark's by now trademarked cascading rhythms, unhinged alien-vocal samples, phantasmic textures and sparkling synth harmonies projecting a catchy hypnotic oblivion filled with intrigue. The sole title track from 'From the Caves and Jungles of Apulia' tangentially reports back to some lower-fi recordings of the past, with its murkier sound inducing the feeling of willing confinement within such caves and jungles. A brilliant Year in Coconuts, indeed.
Mastered by Rasha

Lily Seabird is a perceptive songwriter who can channel moments when everything feels raw and overwhelming into something healing and galvanizing. With Alas, the Burlington, VT-based artist's sophomore album, she confronts grief with palpable clarity on tracks that careen from delicate folk to blistering indie rock. While it's her second LP, it serves as a proper introduction to an undeniable and idiosyncratic voice. "Alas, sounds way more like me," she says. "This is the album I wanted to make in the first place." Though Seabird is now known as a solo artist and collaborator in Burlington's vibrant music community as the bassist for Greg Freeman and other acts, her journey started in Pennsylvania when she picked up the saxophone as a kid. At 14, she learned guitar and started performing as Lily Seabird. After a brief stint in New York City playing in bands, she moved to Vermont, which has been her home since 2018. "When I came to Vermont, I was playing solo a lot but then I started a band with Greg Freeman," she says. "Since 2018, it's been me and Greg and a bunch of different casts of characters have been in the band since then it's an ever-evolving thing. It's just us playing my songs."The songs on Alas, came from a particularly unmoored period for Seabird. "I wrote this album in 2021 and 2022 on the road, trying to figure out who I am," she says. "A lot of them also deal with the time when my close friend passed away. The title Alas, meant a lot to her." Even if the songs don't always directly tackle this specific loss, there's a sense of mourning in how relationships change and dissolve. Take "Grace," a reflection on female friendship, which features the lines, "I hope she's happy now she should be 25 / She taught me something that I thought I'd always hide." Elsewhere, the knotty and unpredictable "Dirge" finds her singing, "I don't know if I believe in god / I don't know if I know how to go on." Seabird and Benny Yurco produced Alas, which was recorded at Burlington's Little Jamaica Studios with Freeman and drummer Zack James (Benny Yurco). It's a quietly expansive album full of subdued, organic textures and moods. Songs like "Cavity" are lush and inviting with silky guitar and Seabird's expressive saxophone playing. The 10 songs on Alas, stretch out and leave space for introspection and deep listening with some tracks taking nearly seven minutes to mesmerizingly unfold. It's a remarkably assured and vital statement from one of the most promising new songwriters alongside peers Merce Lemon, Squirrel Flower, and Allegra Krieger."The album is about loss, coming of age, and sadness but there are also all these moments where happiness takes over," says Seabird. "It can be two things at once: life isn't just pain and sadness, there's also joy. They can all exist at the same time. Alas, is an expression of grief but it's also for letting go."

The eighth and latest slate of refined retro-futuristic synth-pop by Liz Wendelbo and Sean McBride aka Xeno & Oaklander is named after and inspired by "the study of what not to do, a negative image of a positive, the other side, the other:" 'Via Negativa (in the doorway light)'. Recorded in the fall of 2023 at their modernist Connecticut home fashioned into a two-story synthesizer laboratory and mixing studio, the album is uniquely visionary in spirit yet precision in execution, a contrast central to the duo’s enduring chemistry. Embryonic piano sketches were translated to nuanced modular systems, which McBride weighted with "harmonic padding," tuned percussion, and a spectral transfer device capable of "rendering spasms of rhythmic overtonal filigree." Despite the technological complexity of their craft, emotively the songs require no deciphering – these are technicolor widescreen anthems of the cybernetic age.

The eponymous opening track sets the pace, soaring sleekly over glittering synths and call-and-response vocals about arias, shattered light, and faces in stereo. From there the record expands and contracts, cycling through a gallery of moods and masks, animated by the band’s fascination with drama, "the idea of personae," and theatrical characters. Track by track, a murky, tragic backstory reveals itself: forlorn figures navigating a treacherous mercury mine, alternately poisoned by fumes or buried in collapsing caverns. The tension between Teutonic, utopian synthetic pop and lyrical narratives of ghosts in silos, ruined mills, and the traumas of mineral excavation creates a compelling friction, alternately futurist and obsolete, elevated and subterranean. Wendelbo describes the music’s polarities perfectly: "The heavy machinic din of extraction in contrast with the enchantment of the mined precious gems and metals."

From bilingual odes to bloodstones ("O Vermillion") to cosmic chrome dance floor classics ("Lost & There" "The present tense can never feel real / So many pasts conspire in the burning sun") to strutting EBM sensualities ("Actor's Foil"), Xeno & Oaklander re-prove themselves masters of the axis of technology and poetry, snaking cables and synesthesia, mining melodies and myths across 15 years of focused artistry. Theirs is a muse still gilded and gleaming, burnished red and silver, attuned to "the unobservable, the unfamiliar, that which you don’t see directly."

The eighth and latest slate of refined retro-futuristic synth-pop by Liz Wendelbo and Sean McBride aka Xeno & Oaklander is named after and inspired by "the study of what not to do, a negative image of a positive, the other side, the other:" 'Via Negativa (in the doorway light)'. Recorded in the fall of 2023 at their modernist Connecticut home fashioned into a two-story synthesizer laboratory and mixing studio, the album is uniquely visionary in spirit yet precision in execution, a contrast central to the duo’s enduring chemistry. Embryonic piano sketches were translated to nuanced modular systems, which McBride weighted with "harmonic padding," tuned percussion, and a spectral transfer device capable of "rendering spasms of rhythmic overtonal filigree." Despite the technological complexity of their craft, emotively the songs require no deciphering – these are technicolor widescreen anthems of the cybernetic age.

The eponymous opening track sets the pace, soaring sleekly over glittering synths and call-and-response vocals about arias, shattered light, and faces in stereo. From there the record expands and contracts, cycling through a gallery of moods and masks, animated by the band’s fascination with drama, "the idea of personae," and theatrical characters. Track by track, a murky, tragic backstory reveals itself: forlorn figures navigating a treacherous mercury mine, alternately poisoned by fumes or buried in collapsing caverns. The tension between Teutonic, utopian synthetic pop and lyrical narratives of ghosts in silos, ruined mills, and the traumas of mineral excavation creates a compelling friction, alternately futurist and obsolete, elevated and subterranean. Wendelbo describes the music’s polarities perfectly: "The heavy machinic din of extraction in contrast with the enchantment of the mined precious gems and metals."

From bilingual odes to bloodstones ("O Vermillion") to cosmic chrome dance floor classics ("Lost & There" "The present tense can never feel real / So many pasts conspire in the burning sun") to strutting EBM sensualities ("Actor's Foil"), Xeno & Oaklander re-prove themselves masters of the axis of technology and poetry, snaking cables and synesthesia, mining melodies and myths across 15 years of focused artistry. Theirs is a muse still gilded and gleaming, burnished red and silver, attuned to "the unobservable, the unfamiliar, that which you don’t see directly."

"When you wish upon a star… that turns out to be Saturn.

Previously unheard Ra culled from the archives and compiled based on their association to that children's film corporation with the cartoon rodent.

Jazz aficionados and Disney nerds alike will marvel at how seamlessly Sun Ra and his Arkestra put their own unique twist on both well-known and overlooked Disney songs. Pink Elephants on Parade takes nine songs from Disney’s storied catalog and recontextualizes them as beautiful, fun, and sometimes terrifying pieces of Afrofuturist jazz. The collection also shows further proof of how Ra was always willing to transcend conventions of jazz. Listen to the full album and you will likely never look at the Disney music catalog the same way ever again.

Originally known for accompanying Dumbo and Timothy’s colorful alcohol-induced hallucinations, this song is given a whole new life by Ra and the Arkestra in more ways than one. It also feels faithful to the original at the same time, with the cacophony of horns, drums, percussion, and cowbell resembling that of a marching band. However, the demented grandeur of the song is turned up to eleven with zany vocal lines (hence the high-pitched “What’ll I do” inflections) and other performances that somehow sound more evil and gruff here than they did on Oliver Wallace and Ned Washington’s version. Though the Sportsmen’s vocals from that particular arrangement had a certain creepiness to it, the Arkestra takes a previously innocent sounding song and makes Pink Elephants On Parade sound even more terrifying."

‘Dyp Tid’, the fifth album from Norwegian psych-rock group Electric Eye, is a contemplation of the unknown and the ineffable. Crafted in a landscape where time and space collapse, the record is Electric Eye's most ambitious and experimental project to date. Originally commissioned by Sildajazz – the Haugesund International Jazz Festival – and premiering there in 2022, ‘Dyp Tid’ (Norwegian for ‘Deep Time’) is both a meditative journey and an exploration of what it means to exist in a universe where time stretches far beyond humanity’s grasp. First performed live in Skåre Kirke, an octagonal wooden church in Haugesund, Norway that was built in 1858, these six atmospheric compositions centre church organs, synths and choral vocals over any traditional ‘rock’ instrumentation. Gradually winding through ambient minimalism, kosmische improvisations and experimental psych-jazz, ‘Dyp Tid’ isn’t just an album but a space; a mental landscape where sound and time intersect. Talking about the album, Electric Eye’s Øystein Braut says: “We have always been drawn to the cinematic, to the sense that something feels larger than life, and in Dyp Tid we wove these elements together into something both deeply personal and utterly elusive.” Setting up in Bergen´s Duper Studio, the recording space became a laboratory to further develop these new ideas and transform the ‘Dyp Tid’ piece into a fully-fledged studio album: “We delved into analogue technology, explored vintage machines, and experimented with what lay at the edge of our control. We sought the sound of time’s depths, something that felt infinite and uncontrollable. In an age where everything seems algorithmic and predictable, we aimed to create something that refused to be boxed in – something that lives and breathes by its own rules. The album intricately weaves together live recordings from the wooden church and studio sessions, often oscillating between the two in the course of a single track.”

"Join the Kyle Shepherd Trio on 'A Song More Sweetly Played' as they explore, collaborate and improvise on the ‘songs we like to play’. The album’s title is a dedication to the celebrated South African artist William Kentridge, with whom Shepherd collaborated on a joint-work “Waiting for Sybil” that has toured world-wide. In addition to ten Shepherd originals, perhaps most unexpected is the inclusion of an exquisite reading of Massive Attack’s ‘Teardrop’ and a deconstructed take of Journey’s ‘Don’t Stop Believing’, a favourite rock anthem that Shepherd describes as a ‘guilty pleasure’.

‘The inclusion of the Massive Attack and Journey tunes – that’s something out of character to me,’
observes Shepherd. The selection rests well within the grand jazz tradition of repurposing popular songs as vehicles for improvisation, thought, and pleasure. ‘It just came down to playing some tunes that we like and we can flow with, so that we can be inspired and express ourselves in a very natural organic way,’ he says. ‘We walked away from the from the studio feeling like – you know, we actually really enjoyed playing this record! I felt less attached to any sort of predetermined concepts except that we would play some music that I wrote that we like – a selection of things that we like to play. It felt like a bit of a tonic – every musician gets a chance to breathe through the music, and the music just flows and moves as organically as we could make it.’

To hear one of South Africa’s foremost pianists play with intention, freedom and enjoyment, in the tradition and beyond it, is above all a gift to the listener, and Matsuli Music is proud to be able to share the Trio’s first album in a decade, A Dance More Sweetly Played.

Kyle Shepherd is one of South Africa’s leading jazz, film and theatre music composers and pianists of his generation, internationally recognised for his distinctive compositional style and performances. He was the Standard Bank Young Artist of the Year for Jazz in 2014 and the UNISA piano competition winner in 2019, and has performed in 28 countries around the world, including 11 concert tours to Japan."

The Kyle Shepherd Trio: Kyle Shepherd (Piano), Shane Cooper (Double Bass) and Jonno Sweetman (Drums).
All Compositions by Kyle Shepherd except “Teardrop” by Massive Attack and “Don’t Stop Believing” by Journey.
Recorded May 2024 at Sunset Studios, Cape Town
Recording Engineer - Jürgen von Wechmar
Mixed by Martin Ruch.
Mastering by Frank Merritt.
Artwork and Design by English Designed and produced with support from the Baxter Theatre, Cape Town.

Originally released in 1996, punk rock pioneers Chixdiggit’s debut album has finally been reissued in its original format.

Recital presents a newly unearthed recording of an interview between Sun Ra and composer Charlie Morrow recorded at his New York studio in 1989. This voice-only recording develops more like a kaleidoscopic sermon than any standard interview.

Charlie Morrow recalls:
My 1989 Summer Solstice Celebration featured Sun Ra and his Arkestra. On March 29, 1989, ahead of this historical performance, Sun Ra came to New York to plan the performance and do an interview with me in the Charles Morrow Associates studio. There were members of the Sun Ra Arkestra, some of my team, and a photographer present. Once in the sound studio, Sun Ra wanted to record the discussion. What he says is so much more than anyone expected. I pushed record on the tape recorder, which quietly took it all in.

What Sun Ra recorded is a breathtaking expression of his feelings and strong convictions, illustrated with personal memories and stories. My few questions to him about the upcoming Solstice and about the sun and his thoughts about a dawn event triggered his mind. He launched into a nonstop journey of ricocheting stories and concepts, climaxing when I started jamming with Sun Ra on conch horn. Our duo drives to a climactic peak with explosive conch breath sounds giving line-by-line affirmations to Sun Ra’s points.

The 1989 Summer Solstice event brought together Sun Ra and his constellation of musicians and fans with my large-scale gatherings and work with the New Wilderness Foundation. Here in 2023 and beyond, the events live again. Sean McCann of Recital was drawn to Sun Ra’s words, which inspired the production of this edition. Sun Ra’s words seem to have an even greater resonance in present time. Ra is calling out the turbulence of the bad actions of the righteous and the good actions that an evil man, as he dubs himself, can perform, all the time believing that music has the possibility to bring all humans to a better place.

Charlie Morrow, 2023 / Helsinki, Finland

One-time pressing of 425 copies, includes 12-page booklet with rare photos and full transcription of interview, 24”x18” poster of Sun Ra 1989 Solstice performance photograph

When Bob Vylan won the first MOBO award for Best Alternative Music Act in 2022, the punk-grime duo took to the stage and used the platform to speak about how they managed to achieve the impossible as independent artists in a genre-defying space. “We released an album this year that we produced entirely, mixed entirely, recorded entirely, all from my bedroom…so everybody that’s here, bigging up Atlantic and bigging up Warner, fuck that, us man did it ourselves”.

It was an acceptance speech that rattled the room and built anticipation for their next projects.

Humble as the Sun, the forthcoming album from Bob Vylan continues with much of the rage and urgency that they have come to be known and loved for, but this latest project shows that they are now stronger and wiser, bolstered by the wins and learnings that they have fought hard for along the way. The resulting tracklist aims to leave the listener feeling power alongside their anger, and brings a fresh and compelling blend of punk, rock, grime and rap together in an experimental way.

Following on from the last album, Bob Vylan Presents the Price of Life, the message woven throughout Humble as the Sun remains dark in places but is high-energy, defiant and unapologetic in its critique of a broken social and political system that so many have fallen victim to, but feel powerless against.

This album is for the underdogs, the ones who come out swinging and those who refuse to be defeated in the face of injustice, and aims to remind listeners that anger is a fire that can be harnessed and put to use. The album creation started from a conversation with the sun, which is, after all, a big ball of fire that sustains life.

From masculinity to myths about the G Spot, the themes and topics explored on Humble As The Sun make for an often humorously empowering celebration of the peoples ability to endure, overcome and bring about change.

The lyricism on this album is even more layered than their previous projects, still darkly humorous, anti-establishment and unforgiving but at times pauses to deliver much-needed words of afrmation to listeners, “You are loved. You are not alone. You are going through hell but keep going.” Bobby assures the listener, ofering an antidote to the state of the world, aiming to give some power and agency to those who hear it. At a time when so little trust or faith exists between the people and the powers that be, Bob Vylan ofers out a hand in the despondent darkness that has overwhelmed so many in the shadow of a burning planet. They guides the listener to a place where they can see some light and feel empowered to do something, to fight back, to continue pushing forwards despite the challenges faced along the way.

Mixing all of the best quintessentially British - and Jamaican - musical elements from punk to drum and bass, grime and rock, Bob Vylan creates a sound that reflects the state of the nation, at once voicing the frustrations that normal people have, while also highlighting one’s ability to persevere, overcome hardship and to change.

Set for release at the height of the season it’s dedicated to, ‘Music For Autumn Lovers’ by Adam Scrimshire is an eight track album of lush, mostly acoustic based, minimal instrumentals eliciting a mixture of feelings for this special time of year.

Four tracks originally released on an EP in 2022 are joined by new compositions ‘Hawthorn’, ‘Hazel’, ‘Willow’ and ‘Blackthorn’. Gently finger-picked acoustic guitars cosy up alongside pianos, synthesisers, strings and horns; filtered through an autumnal hue of susurrous production and effects. In turns comforting, melancholic and evolutionary; it feels like an album that can be kept being made and remade forever, like a season in itself.

Both a relentless creator and inspiring champion of new music; South London based Scrimshire has been recording, producing and DJing since the mid 2000s. Amongst his credits, he was featured by the Guardian as one of three producers behind the new wave of UK soul, alongside Inflo (Michael Kiwanuka, Sault, Lil Simz) and Swindle (Joel Culpepper, Greentea Peng, Kojey Radical). His bold 2023 album ‘Paroxysm’ was a response to the absurdity of the breakdown in the UK government, picking up an Album of the Week award on Huey Morgan’s BBC 6 Music show, and 2021’s beautiful ‘Nothing Feels Like Everything’ received an Album of the Year nomination at the Gilles Peterson Worldwide Awards. Scrimshire also somehow finds the time to support a wealth of talent on his label Albert’s Favourites, formed with Dave Koor and Jonny Drop, where they have recently released albums by And Is Phi, Huw Marc Bennet, Inês Loubet, Irini Arabatzi, Jonny Drop & Andrew Ashong, and Qwalia.

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

On An-Ting’s extensive travels around the UK, Mongolia, Sichuan, Hong Kong and Taiwan, she took field recordings of birdsong and mixed them with dark experimental electronic music with droning soundscapes and hard beats, creating an album that sonically encapsulates the very essence of nature itself, drifting from peaceful ambience to haunting melancholy through to dark and foreboding.
“There is a light and darkness in nature that civilisation has made us numb to and that we want to explore” Using a binaural recorder to capture the surrounding sounds of birds, An-Ting has created a completely different expression that opens the seemingly simple, yet complex, languages of the birds, furthering the other-worldly, unique feel of Lost Communications ०妏ԏ宙. From An-Ting: “We live with other creatures on earth and are surrounded by all different sounds. Through Lost Communications, I blend the birdsongs with my artistic expression to introduce people to these complex languages and nonhuman voices. I hope this will make us more aware of different life forms on this planet and inspire greater kindness to the earth.” Composed, performed, and mastered by An-Ting Co-produced by AnTing and Ian Gallagher

LWS debuts on can you feel the sun. We hear nature being carved like a pumpkin. We hear the exhalation in an easy breath, the inhalation through a morning mist. We hear it’s time to eat and the table is heaving with grapes and custards. We thank the DJs who have been playing this to the moon and the stars and the dancers wide awake.

Clothilde’s new album sounds like a constant departure from almost everything. Up until now, her music pieces seemed uncontrolled, a total commitment to the machines. She was, somehow, in between us - listener, audience - and the idea of a machine producing sounds she doesn’t seem to control. Of course, none of this was entirely true, she was mostly in control, but the fantasy, the orchestration of it was beautiful. It was sci-fi-ish, Metropolis-magnificent.

In “Cross Sections” everything is purposely under control. We feel, without being told, that Clothilde is directing the narrative, inviting us to partake of this raw and austere electronic sound, forcing us to learn to enjoy it. This is new. Whereas before she would expect you to stay put and listen, eventually you would understand and give in. Or your body would. Now she is telling you to be there, she doesn’t want to be alone, she wants us to feel this subterranean urgency at all costs.

The real eureka moment comes with “Medullary Rays”, when we start cohabiting with the sounds, when they feel familiar. The darkness becomes real; it is palpable how she is stretching each sound and making them come to life at every moment. It is violent, brutal. Like every track, it's a relief when it ends, it's like coming out of a car crash alive. Much of the A side of is Clothilde pushing the boundaries of her sound. She is not testing but finding new ground and sharing it with us. She is exorcising, demolishing and building over and over again, she is crying and screaming, dozing off with the demential levels of bass, making us constantly listen to alarm bells. She is scaring the shit out of us.

The B side keeps the levels of anxiety high up, especially on the 13-minute “Ring”. Surrealistic drones come and go, every second sounds like the end of something, the accumulation of tension is torrential and it never, never stops. We hope there is a conclusion to this. But there is not. “Cross Sections” builds and feeds on this darkness but, in a way, it is self-contained. Never explodes, never releases itself from itself. It is a continuous process of catharsis that it is never over. It never aims to be. Like, you know, life itself.

We've all been there. It feels familiar. Now it has a sound, or sounds. It can be heard and it is outer dimensional. “Cross Sections” is a tremendous effort from an artist trying to survive something. You never know what is. You don’t need to know what it is. It is just there. Cliché but it has to be said: highest possible volume on this one.

Zur Feier des 30-jährigen Jubiläums von The Charlatans drittem Album "Up To Our Hips" gibt es ab dem 08.11.2024 eine erweiterte Neuauflage der Platte. Das Set wird als 2LP, 2CD und digital erhältlich sein und neben dem Originalalbum zehn Bonus-Songs enthalten, darunter Live-Tracks und seltene Mixe. Das Album kommt mit einem neuen von Nik Void gestalteten Artwork und wird als petrolblaues Bio-Vinyl gepresst. Mit dem Album "Up To Our Hips", das 1994 erschien, schlug die Band eine neue Richtung ein. Es grenzt sich von den beiden Vorgängeralben ab, die wesentlich poppiger waren, klingt dunkler, schwerer und bedient sich vermehrt an Orgelklängen. Die Band hörte zur Zeit der Entstehung viel Musik von Künstlern wie Small Faces, The Beatles und Dylan und schaute David-Lynch-Filme. Zur gleichen Zeit gab es einige interne Schwierigkeiten. Viele Lyrics spiegeln diese Unruhe wider. The Charlatans, bekannt für ihre markante Mischung aus Hammond-Orgeln und Northern UK Soul, treibenden Gitarren und Tim Burgess" sehnsüchtiger Stimme, bleiben eine der prägenden Brit-Pop Bands der letzten Dekaden. Seit 1989 veröffentlicht die Band regelmäßig Alben, von denen drei die Spitze der britischen Charts erreichten. Trotz zahlreicher Herausforderungen - Nervenzusammenbrüche, Suchtprobleme, damit einhergehende Geldprobleme und der tragische Verlust zweier Gründungsmitglieder - haben The Charlatans sich immer wieder neu erfunden und erfolgreich Musik veröffentlicht.

Matter-of-factly, Lycox exclaims "Yaaahh" right at the beginning. That's an affirmation but in times of distress it can also mean resignation, something like "Yeah, whatever". Lycox says he was only freestyling though. Then the bassline appears. Elastic, expressive, full-bodied. And it's not even present the whole time. He was "trying to develop a new formula for the Kuduro beat."

Songs for the club? Most certainly. Different sensibilities, one same focused mind. Lycox evolves within tradition, he has mastered the groove, the ambience, the right tones. Simply called "Energia", the last track circles above wistfully, menacing but maybe just promising some sort of action. With a few drops one could almost switch over to a parallel universe of old school Trance, a reference that feels as alien here as maybe this track feels to someone for whom the standard Afro House sound represents modern African music.

These songs pile up in a threshold balanced between styles, sensations, maybe in the middle of life itself. Such a concentration of energy is bound to need release and that comes figuratively through details in the music reaching out to receptive ears. "To Bem Loko" explicitly tries to "literally drive everyone crazy on the dancefloor." Once again Lycox provides vocals, as in "Edson no Uige", about a friend who embarked on a trip to the Angolan province of Uige and came back speaking only the local dialect known as lingala. A nod to tradition, very emotional, without compromising complex arrangements. Consequently, we the listeners are kept believing there is still enough space for a bright future. To ears accustomed to Lycox productions the title "Contemporaneo" (opening of side B) reads like a redundancy, then.

Maybe this music can never be quite as massive as other Afro styles. Without sounding pretentious, it avoids simplistic patterns, it demands a bit more mental processing while it certainly aims to loosen the limbs. Universal in vocation, underground at the core, Lycox definitely calls it Batida but for some it is still Ghetto Music. Like DJ Veiga said when describing a previous release for Príncipe, Ghetto is home, though. Lycox adds it is a foundation of personality. "Few in our community will recognize your work when you come from the same environment, but once you establish your reputation outside of the neighbourhood and even outside of the country, people will look at you differently, as if you were a star."

Conoley Ospovat, with appearances on Otake, Kimochi Sound, Blankhaus, and Cervidae, continues to build his longrunning home imprint: Continental Drift. Opening with a jazzy, atmospheric strut, Transcontinental Trip's title track sets the tone for this record as a more driving, basslinefocused affair than some of his recent downtempo excursions. The taut restraint & open air vibe of loose drumming & ¬eld recordings for Hold On feel like a nonchalant response to Ricardo's Sei Es Drum. Then, Ospovat's attention to melody & clever programming comes to the fore again on Sunbreaks. The tune is a moody dance­oor builder full of twists & turns before the EP closes out with the carbonated haze of Paci¬c Coast Rain

"‘I Never Loved a Man the Way I Love You’ runs the stylistic gambit without feeling Franklin is doing things just for show. The album isn’t trying to function as a resumé of her skills. Genre shifts feel organic and natural. “Don’t Let Me Lose This Dream” is built on a bossa nova groove, while “Do Right Woman Do Right Man” has a little country ballad flavor. “Dr Feelgood (Love Is A Serious Business)”—one of four songs penned by Franklin herself—is a bluesy belter. She might have been Queen of the genre, but pigeonholing Franklin in soul is like calling Sugar Ray Leonard just a welterweight. She could shuffle through styles as smooth as velvet. Everything is stamped with her own distinct character."

Giuseppe Crisci is a musician and composer who splits his life in between London and Naples.
Known for his previous Acid House projects under the pseudonyms of DoTheDu and Crishi, he released several records on labels like Senseverse Records, Stealth Mission, and Pareidolia Recordings.

Conceived and written in his apartment in London and mostly recorded in his studio in Santa Maria Capua Vetere, this album proposes the sound of an evolving artist who drags himself into the deepest corners of heart and soul using profound synthesisers sounds which are coloured by intimate saxophone solos and rusty piano chords that enfasise strengthen the true sentiment of his lyrics narrated in English and Neapolitan dialect.

“My aim is to reach people’s soul and humbly influence them positively by trying to express what I feel deep inside myself, beyond meanings and words”— Giuseppe Crisci

Area Silenzio is eat-girls" debut record and it is both haunted and haunting. For the past four years, the French trio have been crafting their songs into little self-contained worlds with the patience of entomologists, taking them out all over the country and Europe to confront them with the wilderness of a live audience. The ten resulting tracks are a collection of electronic madrigals, groove-driven songs played on a mischievous multi-speed Victrola, ranging from languid dub drips to full-on drum machine cavalcades. Their live performances have that same ghostly, ephemeral quality. There is something other-worldy about the three of them, a suggestion of telepathy, their three voices blending together or going their separate ways like a flock of starlings. They secured opening slots with artists as different as Thalia Zedek, Exek and The Young Gods, just to name a few. It is the elusive essence of their music that allows them to feel at ease pretty much anywhere they find themselves: part no-wave disco rhythms, part post-punk throbbing basses, folk tunes and synthesizers in equal measures, with a perpetual attention to hooks and melodies. The album was self-recorded, a necessary measure to protect the delicate nature of the inner landscapes painted by the band. In this case "delicate" does not mean "soft" by any means: the industrial disco inferno of "A Kin", the ritualistic kraut stampede of "Para Los Pies Cansados" and the bubbly post-funk rhythms of "Trauschaft" will leave you gasping for air once you come out on the other side. "On a Crooked Swing", the opener, is all arpeggiated bass and stumbling kicks. "Unison" will dip you into a hallucinatory river where nothing is what it seems to be and rescue you at the very last second. "Canine", the first single off the record, will gently but firmly reach for your jugular with its vulpine Farfisa and deceptively nonchalant drum beat. The vocal polyphonies on "3 Omens" sound like a field recording of traditional music from a tiny country that has yet to be discovered. eat-girls exist on a slightly different plane from ours, where everything is teeming with secrets and hidden life. Area Silenzio is a precious polaroid shot from that world, or, as Tom Verlaine would have it, "a souvenir from a dream".

Area Silenzio is eat-girls" debut record and it is both haunted and haunting. For the past four years, the French trio have been crafting their songs into little self-contained worlds with the patience of entomologists, taking them out all over the country and Europe to confront them with the wilderness of a live audience. The ten resulting tracks are a collection of electronic madrigals, groove-driven songs played on a mischievous multi-speed Victrola, ranging from languid dub drips to full-on drum machine cavalcades. Their live performances have that same ghostly, ephemeral quality. There is something other-worldy about the three of them, a suggestion of telepathy, their three voices blending together or going their separate ways like a flock of starlings. They secured opening slots with artists as different as Thalia Zedek, Exek and The Young Gods, just to name a few. It is the elusive essence of their music that allows them to feel at ease pretty much anywhere they find themselves: part no-wave disco rhythms, part post-punk throbbing basses, folk tunes and synthesizers in equal measures, with a perpetual attention to hooks and melodies. The album was self-recorded, a necessary measure to protect the delicate nature of the inner landscapes painted by the band. In this case "delicate" does not mean "soft" by any means: the industrial disco inferno of "A Kin", the ritualistic kraut stampede of "Para Los Pies Cansados" and the bubbly post-funk rhythms of "Trauschaft" will leave you gasping for air once you come out on the other side. "On a Crooked Swing", the opener, is all arpeggiated bass and stumbling kicks. "Unison" will dip you into a hallucinatory river where nothing is what it seems to be and rescue you at the very last second. "Canine", the first single off the record, will gently but firmly reach for your jugular with its vulpine Farfisa and deceptively nonchalant drum beat. The vocal polyphonies on "3 Omens" sound like a field recording of traditional music from a tiny country that has yet to be discovered. eat-girls exist on a slightly different plane from ours, where everything is teeming with secrets and hidden life. Area Silenzio is a precious polaroid shot from that world, or, as Tom Verlaine would have it, "a souvenir from a dream".

Opaque yellow vinyl in reverse board jacket.
A full four years after Chicago organ maestro Jimmy Lacy’s legendary maiden voyage as SiP, Leos Naturals, he returns with its lush, layered, long-awaited sequel: Leos Ultras.

Conceived and recorded in a corner of a large floorplan warehouse-turned-sound lab called Homan Gardens, the album radiates a rare joy and colour, projected through a technicolor slideshow of cosmic keys, clarinet, kalimba, sax, melodica, flute, tambourine, and drumbox. The songs feel warm and weathered, like familiar garments treasured through passing seasons.

Many seasons did pass while these songs took shape, spiked with seismic changes – Lacy’s first daughter was born, followed 17 months by a second. Daily routines grew denser, but he never lost faith in the melodies simmering in the periphery of his thoughts: “I knew the music would be there whenever I had the time. It felt good to stay calm about it.” Patience paid off; Leos Ultras is indeed the ultimate SiP statement to date, rich with detail, discovery, beauty, lofted improvisation, and shades of spiritual jazz. It’s music both casual and cosmic, playful and poignant, channelled from long shadows and wordless hours in celebration of life, love, and Leo.

Joel Sarakula's new album "Soft Focus" is a mid-career album spanning his many influences and genres including Soft-Rock, Funk and Indie Pop, all brought under the umbrella of his gentle gaze and a 'soft' aesthetic. "Soft Focus" is also the name of a photographic technique born out of a spherical abberation of the lens where the image is a bit blurry and undefined: it's both flattering and forgiving on the subject. It's an apt title. As a lifetime wearer of (vintage) glasses, Sarakula knows a lot about spherical abberations. Perhaps he produced these songs with his glasses off as these are abstract and warm vignettes, never overstaying their welcome and for this reason Sarakula manages to feature twelve new tracks on "Soft Focus".

Highlights include one of the two Shawn Lee produced tracks "I'll Get By Without You", the rockier, iberic beat of "King Of Spain", the soulful affirmation of "Back For Your Love" and the psychedelic-tinged "Bird Of Paradise" and "Microdosing". This is a lovingly crafted album, well polished and it feels like the culmination of Sarakula's adventures in soulful soft-rock and his defining statement in the genre. While comparisons will be made with contemporary projects like Shawn Lee's Young Gun Silver Fox, Drugdealer, Benny Sings and Prep, echoes of soft-rock icons Ned Doheny, Boz Scaggs, Todd Rundgren and Michael Franks also ripple gently through the album.

Imagine if Ray Manzarek was the frontman for the Bee Gees... It's a neat visual introduction to Joel Sarakula, a UK-based Australian artist who writes, produces and sings Soulful Pop, gazing out at a contemporary world through vintage glasses, vintage threads and long blond hair. His music is informed by a rich, 1970s-inspired palette, drawing on soft-rock, funk and disco influences: sunny, uptempo jams for darker times. Self-aware that he looks and occasionally sounds like the love child of Ray Manzarek and the Gibb brothers, his self-deprecating sense of humour is always there just below the fringe.

Born in Sydney, based in UK and international in outlook Sarakula is a songwriter who has travelled the world in search of his muse, experiencing everything from being a victim of Caribbean carjackings to performing in the remote fishing villages of Norway before finally establishing his career in the UK and Europe. Since then he has released albums such as "Island Time" (2023), "Companionship" (2020), "Love Club" (2018) and "The Imposter" (2015) that have racked up plays on rotation across national UK and European radio and got him noticed in The New York Times, The Independent (UK), The Irish Times, Rolling Stone Germany, El Pais (Spain) and Sydney Morning Herald. It's- been a long road finding his current cult status starting out at the piano from a young age in suburban Sydney, writing and singing songs by the time he was a teenager and onstage by fifteen years old playing jazz standards in his local golf club. "I came from humble beginnings, it's best not to mention" as he sings in his 70s boogie influenced song "I'm Still Winning". Joel Sarakula is a fixture on the festival and club circuit having previously performed at SXSW, Primavera Sound and Glastonbury festivals. Ever the internationalist, he tours with pickup bands sourced from each territory he plays in: a Barcelona band for Spain, a Berlin band for Germany and so forth. This cross-cultural exchange is another echo of the 1970s when world travelling soul and pop artists from the US did the same and guarantees that his live shows remain fresh, exciting and absolutely contemporary.

Before you ancients out there turn your heads and scoff at the premise of a twenty-something rock-and-roll goofball calling himself an old-anything, consider this: Mac DeMarco has spent the better part of his time thus far writing, recording, and releasing an album of his own music pretty much every calendar flip. This Old Dog makes for his fifth in just over half a decade_bringing the total to 3 LPs and 2 EPs. According to the DMV, DeMarco is 26. But in working-dog years, ol' Mac here could easily qualify for social security. To stay gold, turns out all he needed was some new tricks. It was a little space_in time, location, and method_that inspired DeMarco while making the record. Moving from his isolated Queens home to a house in Los Angeles helped give the somewhat transient Canada-native a base, and a few more months on his calendar to create did their job as well. Arriving in California with a grip of demos he'd written in New York, he realized after a few months of setting up his new shop_complete with a few new toys_that the gap was giving him perspective (insert tooth joke here). Right off the bat, from the pops and clicks of the CR-78 drum machine and acoustic strums on the album-opening "My Old Man," the synth-drenched beauty of the second track, "This Old Dog," it's clear that DeMarco's bag is filled with new tricks indeed. This Old Dog is rooted more in a synth-base than any of his previous releases, but he is careful not to let that tactic overshadow the other instruments and overall "unplugged" mood of the work: "This is my acoustic album, but it's not really an acoustic album at all. That's just what it feels like, mostly," says DeMarco. Despite the changes considered during the creation of This Old Dog, Mac DeMarco's mid-twenties masterpiece, it's clear that the engine that motors him is in no danger of slowing down.

Smallville Records welcomes Barcelona’s Lis Sarocca onto the imprint this November with her four-track ‘Untitled Thoughts’ EP.

Since 2018, Barcelona, Spain’s Lis Sarocca has been steadily unveiling her take on House, Techno, Disco and Electro via the likes of Shall Not Fade, Hot Haus and Chiwax among others as well maintain a steady presence across the globe as a heavily in demand DJ. Here, we see Sarocca making her debut on Smallville with her latest collection of works, again showcasing her widespread influences and mesmerising sonic aesthetic across four cuts.

Up first is ‘Atacote’, a hypnotic house cut with a Balearic feel courtesy of breathy vocals, cinematic strings, piano lines and hazy atmospherics, intertwined with organic percussion and bouncy sub bass tones. ‘Breaks Reminder’ follows and shifts gear into a broken rhythm section, squelchy acid lines and textural synths throughout.
Opening the flip-side is ‘Early Years’, diving back into deeper realms with a multitude of ethereal pads, dubby synth flutters, plucked bass hits and crisp drums. ‘Might Be’ then concludes the EP on a more chuggy Nu-Disco tip, employing gritty bass stabs, bubbling arpeggios, airy flute melodies and a saturated off-kilter drum groove.

Comes with a Full Cover Artwork by Stefan Marx

Led by pianist/composer Barbara Fiig, the ensemble is made up of three creative communicators self described as blue sheep " of the jazz world. First stumbling into each other at the music education program at Classical Music Conservatory DKDM, their sound is rooted in collaboration and community, drawing on elements of musical poetry, jazz, folk, Nordic and Classical traditions. Regarding the name Blåly , the trio explains that it is a made up word open to interpretation. Derived from the wordly "", meaning shelter " in Danish, it is reflective of the shared feelings of safety and introspection the trio find in their music making and that they hope to impart onto their audience. Exploring themes of motherhood, new beginnings, mental health, identity, and the cathartic potential of music, the record is built around Fiigs personal approach to the piano. Combining gentle lyrical melodies and colorful melancholic harmony, Blåly perform and interpret each piece with a mature, spacious and textural sound palette, ebbing and flowing between the composed and the improvised in a collective exchange of ideas and energy. Driving drum grooves, hypnotic piano patterns and ethereal timbres from bowed double bass craft a stripped back sound world that is simple, immersive, honest,

On his new album ‚forge’, ambient artist KMRU explores the blend of melody and noise, rhythm and drone. ‚forge’ marks the third release on Seil Records for the Nairobi born and Berlin based producer. Made up of 10 tracks, the album effortlessly wanders from intimate compositions over field recordings to deep and rich soundscapes.

The result feels like a living, breathing organism. Music you can immerse yourself in. Like few others, the 27 year old producer carved a niche of his own, capturing the essence of his raw live performances to form a highly unique listening experience that transcends what ambient music is known for.

‚forge‘ can both exist in the background as well as front and center. Filled with intricate details and vast sonic vistas, it invites the listeners to lose themselves in the music. It’s gentle, yet uncompromising; soft and warm, yet growly and dense.

Amandra, half head honcho behind Ahrpe Records, goes for subtly evolving and droning atmospheres. With releases spanning electronic genres and record labels: Nous klaer Audio, AD 93, Tikita or Semantica, just to name a few; the French producer ba with coherence his own vision of acid and tribal rhythms that can be presented with either bright and soft feelings or through a
Brera Som Som EP

As always with Amandra, there is a blend of poetic and soft hidden touch given to the music through carefully crafted personal Som is a 4 tracker EP, recorded back when he lived in Warsaw Poland, showcasing the artists ability to navigate through nich double 12 package cherry topped with four intelligent and eclectic remixes from artists with their own unique identity: Shieldin Brainwaltzera.

Amandra on disc 1
Brera Som Som
I want my music to breathe dirty so its alive to my ears, trying to stay away from surgical, clean, electronic music. The Prophet recorded by hand, with assumed offbeat imperfections, as always. I wanted to get a naive Asian mood out of it, just to try and c track. I tend to think a lot about my tracks and their meaning more in terms of feelings, art and techniques than in terms of dee
dance floors or whatever. Brera Som Som is a try at using the chiaroscuro technique depicted in classical paintings for instance interesting focus on some very specific elements.

Cyborg Pelikana
Recorded out of a jam on a Soma Pulsar 23 and some heavy distorted synths, it ended up sounding like no other recordings bit different as I wanted to have a more composed like approach here.

Fanfaron
Here is a try at going jungle... with a Moog DFAM and a 303 processed through a Sherman Filterbank.

Prorokini
This one belongs to a phase where I was exploring the sampling side of electronic music. Until that moment I was building 100 based on raw drum machines and some processing, then started feeling how it would feel to sample some raw external beats and process them my way. I didnt pursue that sampling lead much afterward because it felt like a boring approach to me that
stood out anyway, like this one, which Im very proud of. The synths are clearly programmed on the Prophet 08, it cant go any Instruments than that, if you like them, go grab that synth

Remixers on disc 2
Cyborg Pelikana Shielding Remix
I liked the dry and direct qualities of the original track and wanted to maintain that feeling while collaging it using my own proc Recorded in my old home studio in Stockholm.

Brera Som Som Brainwaltzera Remix
no comment.
Fanfaron Whylie Remix
The remix was made using resampling techniques, the rhythmic noises were transformed into driving percussive layers pushi character. A more emotional overlay was added to the track based on the sentimental and personal approach I built through.

Brera Som Som Martinou Remix
Interpreting Amandras work has been on my bucket list for a while. Theres something in it that is innately humanizing and raw capture in my remix. The melody line from the remix is just a snapshot of a small part of the full original track, but it stuck with my improvisation to what you see before you today. With this remix I wanted to make something that would swell slowly and ring o
All original tracks written and produced by Amandra.
Remixes written and produced by Brainwaltzera, Whylie, Martinou and Shielding.
Mastered by Amandra.
Artwork by Neurotypique.

The track list includes a mix of soul, R&B, and gospel influences, highlighting her versatility as an artist.

Eversines returns to Nous'klaer Audio with a bouncing four-tracker EP. Warm acid lines laced with shimmering pads on top of electro-leaning drums. A versatile release to bring in the bag for club-nights and outdoor morning sessions. Full of feelings and always grooving.

CULT FRENCH TOUCH DUO'S 7TH ALBUM

A UNIQUE ELECTRONIC SOUND INFLUENCED BY ROCK AND FUNK PRODUCED BY VINCENT LEIBOVITZ (LA FINE ÉQUIPE) WITH BENJAMIN DIAMOND (STARDUST), IZZY LINDQWISTER, JESSIE CHATON (GENERAL ELEKTRIKS), BNANN WATTS (INFADELS)