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Though Toronto rockers Hot Garbage’s signature tinge of moody, heavy psychedelia remains present on Precious Dream, their forthcoming sophomore album careens at high speeds into a darker world of searing post-punk riffs, grappling with themes of dread, loss, the resilience of the human spirit and the highs and lows of solitude. From the onset, elegant yet brutalist sonic architectures provide the scenery for an escape route, while cryptic poetic spurts act as surreal signage. By the end of the journey, we are left with a strangely pleasant void, but also with an uncontrollable urge to backtrack into the outfit’s beautiful 36-minute musical trap. True to form, prolific producer Graham Walsh (Holy Fuck, No Joy, !!!, etc.) – with whom, Hot Garbage recorded their critically-acclaimed debut full-length, RIDE – does right by the band, masterfully harnessing the four-piece’s unique brand of rock & roll, setting in motion a parallel universe where phones are not what they seem, lobotomy has its merits, lower is actually better, and tunnels stretch the very fabric of spacetime. Fans of Sonic Youth, Frankie and the Witch Fingers or Joy Division should welcome a confused stroll down this romantic if dystopian opus, for a cathartic and tender sense of resolution awaits.

The latest by Andrew Clinco's acid punk alias VR SEX takes its title from an architectural phrase but more importantly refers to the warped, wicked underworld the songs both chronicle and condemn. Donning the moniker Noel Skum - an acerbic anagram of Elon Musk - Clinco vents his scorn for and fascination with the seedy, surreal margins of low-life Los Angeles, doomed to dead ends of vanity, lust, and technology. Although initially launched as an outlet for "heavier sounds" beyond Clinco's duties in new wave fantasists Drab Majesty, the project has ripened into a compelling exercise in world building, weaving themes of gritty city neofuturist sleaze within a framework of driving, distorted guitars and cathode-blasted synths. Echoes of Chrome, Wire, Minimal Man, and Sisters Of Mercy ripple through the collection but ultimately Rough Dimension charts its own twisted vision of "our unforgiving reality." Written and demoed across two weeks alone in a Marseille flat using his prized 1980's Gibson "Invader" and a laptop, Clinco then took the tracks to Strange Weather studios in Brooklyn to record with Ben Greenberg (Uniform, The Men) who helmed 2019's debut, Human Traffic Jam. The results are notably ripping, refined, and riveting. Riffs in alternate tunings chug and churn over mid-tempo drums punctuated by spikes of sci-fi electronics while the vocals swagger and spit venom ("where we walk is also where we shit / but if we bark at our reflections are we hypocrites? / impulses bleed right into our seed / where hate culminates the apple rotted on the tree"). It's a bristling mix of the melodic and the macabre, absurdist observations of fast living and desperate measures, the clock of youth ticking towards midnight as dreams unravel in Babylon. VR SEX's specialty is making these cautionary tales of psychic decay and tainted love a thrill rather than a drag. There's a sunglasses at night glamor to Clinco's choruses and solos, a wit to his black leather judgements ("what is the answer / to cancerous people / walking in my line of sight?"). The music's milieu tends towards parasites and predators but its mood skews refreshingly accelerated and amused, cruising the strip with a cigarette, watching goths and limousines crawl in gridlock beneath digital billboards. The Rough Dimension may be a cesspool, but it's home.

Brazilian Psychedelic Rock Artist Firefriend via Cardinal Fuzz and Little Cloud Records announce a first time vinyl pressing for the classic - “999 to 666 ts Street” Prepare to take the long way through the void — Brazilian sonic architects Firefriend present the searing “999 to 666 TS Street”, a full-length LP that bends time, bleeds color, and dives deeper into the cracked corridors of psychedelic rock. With roots tangled deep in the underground of São Paulo and their eyes forever fixed on the cosmic unknown, Firefriend has carved out a space uniquely their own — a distorted dreamscape where shoegaze meets fuzz, noise folds into melody, and every track is a doorway. “999 to 666 TS Street” is a concept record that navigates a haunted psychogeography: an address etched between realities, where spiritual unrest collides with dystopian daydreams.

A Journey Through Sound and Shadow Drenched in fuzzed-out guitars, whispered vocals, analog synths, and pulsing rhythms, this LP sees the trio — Yury Hermuche (guitar/vocals), Julia Grassetti (bass/vocals), and Cacau Bandeira (drums) — begin to forge the fearless vision they seek. From the opening surge to the final fractured lullaby, “999 to 666 TS Street” is both a destination and a transmission: a call to the wanderers, the outsiders, and the seekers. But Firefriend's mission isn’t just sonic — it’s political.

As proudly left-wing artists with an internationalist vision, the band channels the disillusionment and resistance of a generation watching the world teeter. Their music radiates both critique and hope, connecting the dystopia of late capitalism with a dream of liberation. Whether playing São Paulo basements or European festivals, Firefriend brings an urgent message beneath the haze: solidarity is louder than silence. "This album is a street you can't find on any map — it's the place your mind goes when you turn the lights off," says frontman Yury Hermuche. "It's noise, beauty, and a little bit of danger." "We wanted to build a record that feels like a fever dream on vinyl," adds bassist Julia Grassetti. "Something physical, something that glows in the dark." About Firefriend Known for their hypnotic live shows and cult international following, Firefriend has shared stages with underground legends and graced the grooves of multiple celebrated independent releases.

They’ve become essential listening for fans of Spacemen 3, The Brian Jonestown Massacre, and The Velvet Underground — yet remain wholly, defiantly themselves. “999 to 666 TS Street” marks the start and is another milestone in their prolific catalog, pushing the limits of psychedelic rock while remaining anchored in the beautifully bleak emotionalism that defines their sound. Beneath the distortion lies a worldview — anti-authoritarian, borderless, and defiantly alive.

Secret Soul Society aka Cal Gibson backs up his already assured reputation for being something of an edit maestro here. 'Julians Cabbages' kicks off with dubby downtempo drums and some lovely twinkling arps. 'Make It All True' then refracts a shimmering vocal and some nice musical percussion around a lazy groove and 'Finally Got My Life Together' has a dreamy feeling and widescreen synth architecture. 'Next To You' shuts down with more textured bass and another weird yet wonderful vocal sample.

Personified, reinvigorated, and re-imagined!

Tech-metal outfit FALLUJAH expand horizons and solidify their position as one of America’s most exciting artists on their new album, Xenotaph, through Nuclear Blast. The Bay Area-based quintet’s confidence in the lineup that made their previous album, Empyrean (2022), such a resounding success—earning high marks from Metal Injection, New Noise, and Guitar World—has been reconfigured slightly, with guitarist Sam Mooradian (INHALE EXISTENCE, SAM MOORADIAN) and drummer Kevin Alexander (DISEMBODIED TYRANT. BROUGHT BY PAIN) bringing their jaw-dropping musical proficiency to the fold, as vocalist Kyle Schaefer, guitarist Scott Carstairs, and bassist Evan Brewer enter a new chapter with FALLUJAH. Moored by singles ‘Kaleidoscopic Waves,’ ‘Labyrinth of Stone,’ and ‘Step Through the Portal and Breathe,’ Xenotaph is FALLUJAH personified, reinvigorated, and re-imagined.
As a details-oriented record Xenotaph benefits from moments of low tension, atmospheric delight, and Schaefer’s winged clean vocals. This
dynamic isn’t particularly new to Fallujah, but the group spent considerable time honing what each song needed—from blast-laden speed runs and jazz-fusion solos to vocal restraint and brutality—which resulted in a brighter, more exhilarating experience. Musically, it truly feels like the listener is embroiled in the album’s sci-fi concept and Peter Mohrbacher’s stunning cosmogonic cover art, which is aesthetically in line with his previous covers (Dreamless and Empyrean) for FALLUJAH. Close encounters with ‘Step Through the Portal and Breathe’, ‘Labyrinth of Stone,’ and ‘Kaleidoscopic Waves’ spark wonder and stimulate the soul.

Emptyset, James Ginzburg and Paul Purgas, explore both spatial and physical properties of sound; specifically the perceptible boundaries between it and noise. They have produced installations for Tate Britain and the Architecture Foundation in London. Emptyset"s new album Dissever continues their exploration of the histories of 20th century electronic sound and media. Dissever delves into the intertwined evolution of cosmic rock, minimalism and electronic music, viewed through their prospective dreams and overlapping technological ambitions. Premiered at Tate Modern as a live performance, Dissever was part of the exhibition Electric Dreams, a large-scale survey of the global history of art and technology. The resulting album is astoundingly sublime, rich with sonics that are as thrilling and immediate as they are singular and dense with complexity.

The visionary Walter Maioli (Futuro Antico, Aktuala) and the eccentric electronic musician John Zandijik first met in 1984 when they both gravitated toward the experimental Sound Reporters collective, participating in the release of Ethnoelectronics (1986). Shortly afterward, the two met at Zandijik's studio in Rotterdam, where they completed their journey of exploration to the edge of the Universe in just three nights. The recordings were made only after 3 a.m., when psychic energy is at its peak, and inspiration belongs solely to the realm of dreams. It was a ritual of long galactic fluctuation, where the mystical sound of the flute was filtered and expanded by the Aureal system, a device capable of breaking it down into cascades of aureal harmonies. Through its extemporaneous approach, the music transforms perceptions of ancient pyramids or tropical forests into phosphorescent nebulae, luminous fountain openings, and unprecedented planetary interstices—interstellar portals leading to new archetypal-ancestral visions. It feels like sailing through colored orbits in the red gases of Jupiter and Mars, lost and dissolved forever in the engines and gears of the most secret cosmos. Between Pink Floyd-esque psychedelic flashes and Tangerine Dream-inspired sidereal architectures, Maioli and Zandijik reveal the most phantasmagoric and unknown side of Sound Reporters.

'Quiet Pieces' initiates Abul Mogard’s personal imprint Soft Echoes with a definitive self-portrait of calm, contemplative, and discreet inner landscapes made audible. It is the first solo album on vinyl in four years. RIYL Alessandro Cortini, William Basinski, The Caretaker.

While sifting through archived material left idle from earlier projects, a chance encounter with a late uncle’s trove of beloved 78rpm classical and opera records prompted the reworking and completion of what would eventually become the album. Spinning dusty records at 33 and 45rpm, Abul Mogard recombined their enduring spectres with unfinished sketches from his archive. The resulting soundscape blurs distinctions between his memories and those of another, exquisitely short-circuiting the senses with its waking, dream-like lucidity.

This was a process I hadn’t explored in my earlier works. I began sampling brief moments from these records, altering them with studio effects and playing them at slower speeds. In many cases, I wasn’t entirely sure how the original music sounded. These fragments, once further processed, became a source of inspiration for my new compositions. Over time, I realised that the old pieces from the archive and the new material derived from the samples naturally complemented each other.”

The resulting pieces hover over a threshold, a liminal space that harmonises the old and older material. Voluminous waves of quiet and loud undulate between consonance and dissonance, conjuring imagery of a decaying grandeur that humanity’s decadence has surrendered to the elements. Abul Mogard’s seemingly abandoned yet vast landscapes are nevertheless intimate with timbral frissons of red-lined distortion. Elusive, yet as tangible as sea spray or smog, they affect the olfactory senses with a rarified, synesthetic quality that modestly engages one’s emotional register – a hypnotic, distinguishing feature long hailed as one of the hallmarks of his work. A fidelity to memory and dream recall is sensitively probed in the journey from the stately symphonic stasis of 'Following a dream' to the almost industrial, untethered brutality evoked by a looming silhouette that’s never fully visible in 'Constantly slipping away', culminating in the foreboding coda of 'Like a bird'. Those pieces appear to shield the album’s sentimental core, where the tempestuous play of light and shadow of 'In a studded procession' escalates to breathtaking, panoramic climax, while 'Through whispers' evokes an out-of-body-like experience encountered with visceral poignancy.

Looking back, Mogard notes an unexpected influence: “I realise being inspired by Phill Niblock, whose work I had barely known at the time but explored after his passing in 2024. His album 'Boston Tenor Index' changed the way I approached dissonance. It encouraged me to push my sound further, to the edge of a space where I began to feel uncomfortable.”

The album artwork, created by longtime collaborator Marja de Sanctis, features a photograph taken at the Temple of Jupiter Anxur, an archaeological site overlooking the Mediterranean Sea. Captured with an iPhone, the image traces the residual presence of construction techniques and architectural forms of the Romans, where material history is transcribed through contemporary tools. The convergence of ancient and modern technology aims to reverberate the site’s lasting spiritual presence – an echo persisting in what is now perceived as a quiet, emptied space. The spiral gestures towards infinity and light. Past and present dissolve into one another, reflecting 'Quiet Pieces' meditation on sound, memory, and time.

RIYL Alessandro Cortini, William Basinski, The Caretaker

Emptyset, James Ginzburg and Paul Purgas, explore both spatial and physical properties of sound; specifically the perceptible boundaries between it and noise. They have produced installations for Tate Britain and the Architecture Foundation in London. Emptyset"s new album Dissever continues their exploration of the histories of 20th century electronic sound and media. Dissever delves into the intertwined evolution of cosmic rock, minimalism and electronic music, viewed through their prospective dreams and overlapping technological ambitions. Premiered at Tate Modern as a live performance, Dissever was part of the exhibition Electric Dreams, a large-scale survey of the global history of art and technology. The resulting album is astoundingly sublime, rich with sonics that are as thrilling and immediate as they are singular and dense with complexity.

Audio alchemist Damian Lazarus continues to redefine the boundaries of electronic music with his fifth studio album, ‘Magickal’.

Renowned for his unparalleled ability to craft transformative sonic journeys, Damian Lazarus is a master of rhythm, melody, and vibration—a true pioneer among his generation’s visionary artists. Damian’s broad depth of experience encompasses a variety of disciplines: tastemaker, selector, label owner, A&R and a Grammy-nominated artist in his own right - each informed by his unique ear for sound. He is chief wizard of the hugely influential and culture-defining Crosstown Rebels label, a globally renowned DJ with a penchant for exotic outdoor locations and a highly regarded recording artist with four albums and a plethora of solo cuts, collaborations and remixes in his sprawling discography.

With his fifth album, ‘Magickal’, Damian steps into his next evolutionary phase, combining his newly found sobriety with a more mature outlook while still pushing boundaries and creating unforgettable moments. At the root of it all is the magical power of togetherness and human connection that only music can facilitate. Driven by this core ethos, Damian continues on his mission to share his heartfelt music, taking the dance floor into unexplored realms of experience, facilitating moments of transcendence, bliss and pure, unadulterated magic.

Damian Lazarus, the avant-garde architect of spiritually nourishing sounds, is joined by a stellar lineup of collaborators on his latest excursion. It’s imaginative and mystical, rhythmically captivating and daring in its own way, as is typical of Damian’s approach. Taking consideration of his past, the album references his previous work to create a tapestry of compositions that tap into the energy of key moments from his discography. Drawing on his existing catalogue creates cohesive through lines and thematically serves as a continuation of previous stories. November’s single, ‘Sunrise Generation’, for instance, works as a companion to ‘Vermillion’, which was recorded by Damian with his band The Ancient Moons and vocalist Moses Sumney back in 2015. ‘Sunrise Generation’, featuring the beautiful vocals of Fink, was Damian’s first major release since his Grammy-nominated 2021 collaboration ‘Don’t Be Afraid’ with Diplo and Jungle, and continues to take inspiration from global gatherings at solstice and those moments of collective awe at sunrise.

Indeed, the album’s themes of mental elevation and psychedelic sonic journeys are evident throughout. Damian channels this energy through tracks like the soulful ‘So Low’, featuring the incredible Zoe Kypri, and the luminous ‘Searchin’, with Jem Cooke, whose collaboration with Damian dates back to ‘Flourish’ (2020) and lead single ‘Into The Sun’. Uplifting is the operative word here, as Damian aims straight for our hearts and inner selves, stripping away the layers to take us on a trip inwards, and out into the ether all at once. There’s a clear nod to Damian’s appreciation of amapiano when he teams up with Ghanaian interdisciplinary healer Jojo Abot on ‘Warrior Dance’. Old friend and inspirer Mathew Jonson brings his virtuoso touch to ‘Are You Dreaming?’, while TEED and A-Trak form an awesome alliance for ‘Falling Down’ with its heartrending vocals. ‘Alive’ features the Bloom Twins, and also additional production from acclaimed producer Mark Ralph, who incidentally worked on Damian’s debut album ‘Smoke The Monster Out’ in 2009 and forms another throughline to the past. ‘Alive’ blends pop sensibilities and song structure with Damian’s inimitable sound - and could become one of Damian’s biggest moments to date. ‘La Hija De Juan Simon’ delves into the Latin energy synonymous with vibrancy and self-expression as Damian teams up with acclaimed Spanish flamenco-influenced duo Mëstiza. On a solo tip, he rolls out with the eight-minute-plus soulful funk flex ‘Why Don’t U’.

In a suitably aligned instance of serendipity, the arrival of ‘Magickal’ comes at a pivotal period in Damian’s life, just as it has been with previous album concepts. Albums made and released during big shifts in his life speak to the correlation between growth, personal evolution, creativity, catharsis and sharing that process musically. The last album ‘Flourish’, for instance, was recorded and released in the space of a few months during the first summer of the global pandemic. As a result, there’s a kind of vulnerability in the music, a subtle story that’s being told with emotional touchpoints that will be relevant to anyone listening. The universal human experience and spectrum of emotions are things almost everyone can relate to. With the enhanced clarity of his sobriety, Damian’s compositions embody the uplifting nature of simply being alive, connected and unified in our love for music and one another.

Day Zero, Damian’s iconic annual festival, is intrinsically linked to ‘Magickal’. It’s the setting for his imagination when producing the music, it’s the launchpad for each year’s kaleidoscopic adventures around the world, and this year’s edition will be the backdrop to the release of ‘Magickal’. As the pinnacle of Damian’s annual experiences, Day Zero marks a vital milestone for his artistry, an extension of his inner realm, carefully curated and created for his global family of lovers and dancers to revel in the awe-inspiring beauty of Mother Nature. Central to the ethos of Day Zero is its sustainability practices and deep consideration for the locality within which it is held. Connections with local elders embolden its depth, cultivating a strongly aligned purpose with the ritual, customs and energy of the land and its people.

‘Magickal’ will be released in the same week as Day Zero, tying the two projects together in a neat dovetail. 12 years since it started, Day Zero continues to play a significant role in the music Damian makes, curates and plays. For him, it’s the epitome of his vision: a stunning natural setting, the very best party people from around the world, an unparalleled lineup of friends and family, high production values, eco-centric policies and music from another dimension. With these interdimensional transmissions, Damian channels his inner alchemist, which, in turn, permeates into the vibrational framework of ‘Magickal’.

Never one to adhere to convention, Damian has opted for a disruptive album release. ‘Magickal’ is to be kept under wraps and then announced and released on Crosstown Rebels on 8th January 2025, bypassing the modern trend of prolonged single drops and ‘tombstone’ album releases. ‘Magickal’ is the embodiment of Damian and his intentional, against-the-grain approach and reinforces the album as a complete artistic statement, offering listeners the full cohesive experience from the very beginning. This is a return to the album as the pinnacle moment and not the afterthought. Singles, edits and remixes will follow the ‘Magickal album’ release, and, of course, there will be a world tour to promote the album (including Glastonbury and Coachella) and a chance to present the album in exciting, innovative and unique ways.

Forever dreaming, a sincere student of magic, new and old, social sorcerer, lover of nature and master of musical wizardry, Damian Lazarus is a potent force. With ‘Magickal’, he reaffirms his place as one of electronic music’s most influential figures, taking listeners on a profound journey into sound, spirit, and connection.

Mirai is a 2018 Japanese animated adventure fantasy comedy film written and directed by Mamoru Hosoda and produced by Studio Chizu (known for Belle, Wolf Children and The Boy and the Beast). The film stars the voices of Moka Kamishiraishi, Haru Kuroki and Gen Hoshino a.o. It was met with critical acclaim and became nominated for an Academy Award in 2019 for Best Animated Feature Film. Additionally, the movie received an Annie Award in the same year. Mirai follows the story of a four-year-old boy named Kun whose world is turned upside down when he meets his new baby sister. After venturing into a magical garden, Kun encounters strange guests from the past and future, including his sister Mirai, as a teenager. Together, Kun and teenage Mirai go on a journey through time and space, uncovering their family's incredible story. The soundtrack for the film was written by Masakatsu Takagi, who had previously scored Hosoda's Wolf Children and The Boy and the Beast. His work for Studio Chizu has been praised for its magical and whimsical atmosphere. For Mirai specifically, this dreamy aesthetic was mixed with a contemporary sound and made to be simple in tone and be reflective of family. Mirai is available as a limited edition of 500 numbered copies on turquoise coloured vinyl and includes a 4-page booklet.

When Apollo Brown and Crimeapple connect, it’s like old film grain under a projector— gritty, timeless. This album isn’t just boom-bap nostalgia; it’s a rebirth of smoke-stained bars, where Crimeapple plays both poet and philosopher, flipping bilingual manteca rhymes with a chef’s precision, stirring up the street grime and serving it with a side of sharp wit. Apollo Brown, as always, builds his beats like ancient architecture—dusty, soulful, and heavy with forgotten stories. These tracks sound like the cracks in the sidewalk talking back, the perfect companion for long nights and even longer thoughts. It’s a sonic novel, a street sermon, and Crimeapple’s wordplay dances through it like grease sizzling in a pan, a reminder that even in decay, there’s beauty. This, Is Not That.

Diamond Dogs may be a bunch of renaissance rockers deeply rooted in the early 70s British rock and roll, but just like our forerunners, we owe
almost everything to Little Richard, the architect of it all! It's impossible to even imagine rock and roll without him.

Little Richard is the soul, spirit and passion of the Diamond Dogs lifestyle, and I was six years old when I first heard 'Rip It Up' with love at first feel.
The raw energy and the blood screaming lyrics over that manic hammering piano embodied everything I craved in music, straight from the speakers to my young heart. Even if I discovered a lot of other influences later on in life, I always kept Little Richard close to where he once hit me. One of Diamond Dogs' early tunes is called 'Lunatic Eye-Rolling Delivery' which is a line nicked from a concert review of Little Richard, and we believe it sums up the essence of his greatness pretty well. He was much more than a rock pioneer, the way he dressed up and spoke was something the world had never experienced before.

Little Richard got Paul McCartney to write 'I Saw Her Standing There', got James Brown a new haircut, and put a silly little mustache on Prince!
So, the idea of recording a homage to the true king of rock and roll had been with all of us for many years when Chris Spedding one day called me
and asked if we should record something together. Of course, I immediately said yes, and then asked him to join Diamond Dogs in the upcoming
studio session to record some well selected Little Richard gems for an LP. All said and done, and Chris was extra thrilled that his favorite 'Send Me
Some Lovin'' was among the songs we picked.

And on a cold and windy January day we gathered the Dogs and the new old puppy in the sweet premises of Dog Pound Studios, along with our
beloved friend and engineer Jonas Åhlén.

So, when the room is geared up, we do our melodies as we normally do it, no rehearsals, all live, straight to tape. One hour per track is usually a
good thing! An amazing energy and swagger filled the atmosphere as Diamond Dogs and Chris fulfilled my dream.

Now that I'm listening through the vinyl, I must say that I've never been prouder of anything we've achieved with this shady bunch so far. It's like
walk the full circle, like I've been graduating from the 12-bar rock and roll academy.
Sulo, Stockholm/Sweden, 2024

Sound Like: The Faces, Rod Stewart, Frankie Miller, Elton John, Mott
The Hoople, J Geils Band, The Rolling Stones, Steppenwolf, Little
Richard

Diamond Dogs may be a bunch of renaissance rockers deeply rooted in the early 70s British rock and roll, but just like our forerunners, we owe
almost everything to Little Richard, the architect of it all! It's impossible to even imagine rock and roll without him.

Little Richard is the soul, spirit and passion of the Diamond Dogs lifestyle, and I was six years old when I first heard 'Rip It Up' with love at first feel.
The raw energy and the blood screaming lyrics over that manic hammering piano embodied everything I craved in music, straight from the speakers to my young heart. Even if I discovered a lot of other influences later on in life, I always kept Little Richard close to where he once hit me. One of Diamond Dogs' early tunes is called 'Lunatic Eye-Rolling Delivery' which is a line nicked from a concert review of Little Richard, and we believe it sums up the essence of his greatness pretty well. He was much more than a rock pioneer, the way he dressed up and spoke was something the world had never experienced before.

Little Richard got Paul McCartney to write 'I Saw Her Standing There', got James Brown a new haircut, and put a silly little mustache on Prince!
So, the idea of recording a homage to the true king of rock and roll had been with all of us for many years when Chris Spedding one day called me
and asked if we should record something together. Of course, I immediately said yes, and then asked him to join Diamond Dogs in the upcoming
studio session to record some well selected Little Richard gems for an LP. All said and done, and Chris was extra thrilled that his favorite 'Send Me
Some Lovin'' was among the songs we picked.

And on a cold and windy January day we gathered the Dogs and the new old puppy in the sweet premises of Dog Pound Studios, along with our
beloved friend and engineer Jonas Åhlén.

So, when the room is geared up, we do our melodies as we normally do it, no rehearsals, all live, straight to tape. One hour per track is usually a
good thing! An amazing energy and swagger filled the atmosphere as Diamond Dogs and Chris fulfilled my dream.

Now that I'm listening through the vinyl, I must say that I've never been prouder of anything we've achieved with this shady bunch so far. It's like
walk the full circle, like I've been graduating from the 12-bar rock and roll academy.
Sulo, Stockholm/Sweden, 2024

Sound Like: The Faces, Rod Stewart, Frankie Miller, Elton John, Mott
The Hoople, J Geils Band, The Rolling Stones, Steppenwolf, Little
Richard

"This record explores the relationships between mid century architecture, consumerism and community. The gradual or sometimes brutal removal and change of places in the name of progress. These changes leave traces that people have to deal with on a psychological level but probably never really acknowledge. This record explores loss of community and loss or unsympathetic altering of shopping spaces. When something is unceremoniously knocked down or altered and something else replaces it then the thing before it becomes ghost like and is at risk of being forgotten. Not dissimilar to when the Christian faith built their buildings upon Pagan sites. It has a similar purpose (to pray or to shop in this case) but the older thing becomes dreamlike and is confined to folklore. The community is always fed the propaganda of progress but looking back, I certainly cannot deny the beauty of what has now gone. Maybe there is a sense of dissolution and denial about such matters. The record is also interested in the sense of community of these past spaces and how shopping centres have generally declined mainly due to the rise of neo liberalism and tech giants. When you see old footage of these spaces in their prime, you get a sense of a space age future, everything looks new but paradoxically the people look to be from an older time. Today I can see real poverty and complete disenfranchisement from being in these new spaces. It's not all doom and gloom though as spaces, especially the ones in Plymouth are not that much altered and could be brought back to the architects original dreams."

David A.

Repress of DVS1's highly anticipated album that came out on Axis digital during the pandemic. From the perceiving body to the liminal space of the dream-state, audible frequencies send a neurofeedback message. A paradigm-shift is activated in the mind. A movement from the present hour toward the realm beyond measure. The pulse of a synthesized kick. The distance between evolving rhythms of time & place left behind. Sensations created in forgotten corners of the consciousness are distant, yet familiar. A low-penetrating drum beat pulsates. Hypnotic hallucinations reveal detailed layers, oscillating from the back to the forefront of the dream. Synth programming yields abstract ideas into concrete images. Lucid percussion arranged to paint a deeper shade of architecture in this future-memory-system. Be aware that sensations resonate into imagination without warning. The observer extends from rational thought to a deeper state of understanding. The mind-body experience gives way to a transient response from a shock wave to the steady state. The senses reach entrainment.

A Universe of Pop: Fleetwood Mac’s Tango in the Night Features Meticulous Production, Includes the Hits “Big Love,” “Everywhere,” “Seven Wonders,” and “Little Lies”

Experience the 1987 Album in Audiophile Sound for the First Time:

Mobile Fidelity’s Numbered-Edition 180g 45RPM 2LP Set Captures the Perfectionist Details

1/2" / 30 IPS analogue master to DSD 256 to analogue console to lathe

The perfectionism involved in crafting Fleetwood Mac’s Tango in the Night reached a level of intensity experienced by few artists before or since. Commercially and creatively, the painstaking efforts paid off. Recorded over the span of 18 months, the triple-platinum album spawned four hit singles and put Fleetwood Mac back at the center of mainstream conversation. Its demands also ultimately forced its primary architect, guitarist-singer Lindsey Buckingham, to leave the group shortly after its completion. Was it all worth it? A thousand times “yes.”

Sourced from the original master tapes, pressed at Fidelity Record Pressing, and housed in a Stoughton jacket, Mobile Fidelity’s numbered-edition 180g 45RPM 2LP set of Tango in the Night presents the 1987 record in audiophile sound for the first time. Everything co-producers Buckingham and Richard Dashut sought to instill in the music — the exacting tones, gauzy textures, plush atmospherics, shifted harmonics, unique pitches, pristine acoustics, biting rhythms — can now be heard with elevated accuracy, range, depth, and detail.

Made under challenging circumstances, Tango in the Night is as much a universe of sound as it is an album. This reissue conveys that sonic spectrum in exhaustive manners that go beyond prior editions by playing with a combination of transparency, imaging, openness, and dynamics that provides uncanny insight into the meticulously layered vocal and instrumental tracks. Equally important, it also amplifies your connection to the elaborate melodies, contagious hooks, and airy highs that account for the album’s ageless pop brilliance.

As for the wondrous array of percussive accents, synthesizer elements, interlaced guitars, and lush choruses — all seemingly occupying the exact right place amid the soundstages and taking on shapes and forms that lend them a living, breathing quality? If your audio system is up to the task, the realism, presence, and warmth of Mobile Fidelity’s collectible edition will have you considering Tango in the Night from a new perspective — one that puts its lavish, gorgeous creations on a par with those from Rumours and Tusk.

Unlike those records, Tango in the Night began from a more individualistic perspective in that it sprang from what originally was intended to become a Buckingham solo effort. Instead, it remains the final album credited to the peak Fleetwood Mac lineup involving Buckingham, Stevie Nicks, Christine McVie, Mick Fleetwood, and John McVie. Though the participation of all the members varies from track to track, the cohesive arrangements and alchemic production on Tango in the Night suggest a unity that remains on a par with the band’s other landmark works.

Largely constructed from laborious methods that involved recording at half speed to achieve the desired sonics and tonal nuances, piecing together verses and choruses to attain seamless synchronicity, and Buckingham using a Fairlight CMI synthesizer/workstation in visionary ways, the songs pair electronic and acoustic elements to radiant effect. Tango in the Night also possesses light dance structures that resulted in several tunes being recast as dance mixes on extended-play singles. Above all, however, this is music that appears to float and cast dreamy spells.

Surrender to the frisky interplay of the opening “Big Love,” big pop punctuated with Buckingham’s back-and-forth “oh-ah” sighs that ping the Top 5 smash with innocuous sensuality and toe-tapping momentum. Delight amid the shimmering lights of “Seven Wonders,” whose shades and shadows shift amid Nicks’ raspy vocals and a large group chorus. Wrap yourself in the warmth of the weightless “Everywhere,” a flawless slice of hummable pop that topped with Adult Contemporary charts for three weeks and towers as an ode to the love everyone desires. Stare into the mysterious landscape of the title track (and dig the synthesized harp) just before it explodes, briefly ceding to a terse riff and locked-in grooves.

Tango in the Night teems with delightful surprises and well-honed specifics, especially when Buckingham and Christine McVie team together. In addition to the aforementioned “Everywhere,” the singer born Christine Anne Perfect plays a major role on four more cuts — all highlights — from the breathy, head-over-heels emotionalism of “Mystified” to the sweet, sweeping escapism of “Little Lies,” a cover-up of romantic despair aided by Nicks’ irreplaceable background vocals.

“If I see you again/Will it be the same,” asks Buckingham on “When I See You Again,” finishing up a song a longing-sounding Nicks had started while voicing words that many likely knew would resonate far beyond the confines of the heartfelt song — a goodbye wearing a faint disguise. Though Fleetwood Mac would never again reach the heights maintained throughout Tango in the Night, and members would go their own way, the album towers as a paean to what’s possible in the fields of pop, rock, and studio wizardry.

The seeds of composer Rafael Anton Irisarri’s latest LP were first planted during his 2016 tour in Italy, months before that Autumn’s unexpected presidential election. The linguistic glitch of an innocuous diner in Milan named “il Mito Americano” – meant as “The American Dream” but translated literally to English as “The American Myth” – sparked a series of ideas, both conceptual and musical.

Amid the chaos of 2020, while exploring the stark world of brutalist architecture and inspired by the false fronts of Potemkin villages, a vision started to take shape: FAÇADISMS. Composed over three years, it’s a late capitalist lament of simmering electric despondency.

Irisarri’s obsession with repeating motifs mirrors the cyclical nature of our tumultuous political history. The album’s eight tracks heave and storm like a tempest being drained of its rage. This is the sound of majestic dissipation, of morning afters, fashioned from a mournful haze with cavernous guitars and granular twilight. A euphony of a receding tide as one sifts through the remnants of what remains: dust, delusion, and memory.

Opening with the somber gauze of “Broken Intensification," FAÇADISMS moves fluidly between moments of absence and abandon. Ashen swaths of electronics billow above smoldering embers of melody, guitar, and scattered streaks of processed strings and voice, as on the rapturous doom of “Control Your Soul's Desire for Freedom,” featuring Julia Kent on cello and Hannah Elizabeth Cox on vocals. "The impoverished peoples of the Americas have known all along that 'freedom' is a cruel illusion crafted by the elites, akin to Potemkin's fake villages designed to impress Catherine the Great," Irisarri indicates. "FAÇADISMS illustrates a twisted inversion where the rulers deceive their subjects with illusions of safety, democracy, and free speech to create a grotesque mirage of control over their own lives.”

Elsewhere, Irisarri leans into passages of hushed oblivion (“Hollow,” “Dispersion of Belief”), while ragged drones rumble and disintegrate into wind-battered ambient wreckage. One has the sense that it’s all too late. The hour of fury has passed. The beauty has come and gone. Irisarri’s muse has become the crack in the façade of the unraveling myth.

The record closes with a climax of grand departure. Co-written with Kenyan sound artist KMRU, “Red Moon Tide” surges from flickering elegy to celestial disquiet, roiling waves of hymnal descent, and bristling noise. The effect is unsettling and unmooring: a soundtrack for the soul leaving the body, only to discover a void. It’s the sound of the center not holding, of shared illusions being dissolved in a tunnel of white light.

The cover photograph captures a profound sense of desolation. Taken in the historic shanty town of La Perla, Puerto Rico, where Irisarri spent his childhood, brutal colonial mysteries are lost to time. A skeletal concrete structure decays against an expansive blue horizon. Only the shadow of its shell ripples on the empty sea.

Has the American myth finally run its course?

The seeds of composer Rafael Anton Irisarri’s latest LP were first planted during his 2016 tour in Italy, months before that Autumn’s unexpected presidential election. The linguistic glitch of an innocuous diner in Milan named “il Mito Americano” – meant as “The American Dream” but translated literally to English as “The American Myth” – sparked a series of ideas, both conceptual and musical.

Amid the chaos of 2020, while exploring the stark world of brutalist architecture and inspired by the false fronts of Potemkin villages, a vision started to take shape: FAÇADISMS. Composed over three years, it’s a late capitalist lament of simmering electric despondency.

Irisarri’s obsession with repeating motifs mirrors the cyclical nature of our tumultuous political history. The album’s eight tracks heave and storm like a tempest being drained of its rage. This is the sound of majestic dissipation, of morning afters, fashioned from a mournful haze with cavernous guitars and granular twilight. A euphony of a receding tide as one sifts through the remnants of what remains: dust, delusion, and memory.

Opening with the somber gauze of “Broken Intensification," FAÇADISMS moves fluidly between moments of absence and abandon. Ashen swaths of electronics billow above smoldering embers of melody, guitar, and scattered streaks of processed strings and voice, as on the rapturous doom of “Control Your Soul's Desire for Freedom,” featuring Julia Kent on cello and Hannah Elizabeth Cox on vocals. "The impoverished peoples of the Americas have known all along that 'freedom' is a cruel illusion crafted by the elites, akin to Potemkin's fake villages designed to impress Catherine the Great," Irisarri indicates. "FAÇADISMS illustrates a twisted inversion where the rulers deceive their subjects with illusions of safety, democracy, and free speech to create a grotesque mirage of control over their own lives.”

Elsewhere, Irisarri leans into passages of hushed oblivion (“Hollow,” “Dispersion of Belief”), while ragged drones rumble and disintegrate into wind-battered ambient wreckage. One has the sense that it’s all too late. The hour of fury has passed. The beauty has come and gone. Irisarri’s muse has become the crack in the façade of the unraveling myth.

The record closes with a climax of grand departure. Co-written with Kenyan sound artist KMRU, “Red Moon Tide” surges from flickering elegy to celestial disquiet, roiling waves of hymnal descent, and bristling noise. The effect is unsettling and unmooring: a soundtrack for the soul leaving the body, only to discover a void. It’s the sound of the center not holding, of shared illusions being dissolved in a tunnel of white light.

The cover photograph captures a profound sense of desolation. Taken in the historic shanty town of La Perla, Puerto Rico, where Irisarri spent his childhood, brutal colonial mysteries are lost to time. A skeletal concrete structure decays against an expansive blue horizon. Only the shadow of its shell ripples on the empty sea.

Has the American myth finally run its course?

The seeds of composer Rafael Anton Irisarri’s latest LP were first planted during his 2016 tour in Italy, months before that Autumn’s unexpected presidential election. The linguistic glitch of an innocuous diner in Milan named “il Mito Americano” – meant as “The American Dream” but translated literally to English as “The American Myth” – sparked a series of ideas, both conceptual and musical.

Amid the chaos of 2020, while exploring the stark world of brutalist architecture and inspired by the false fronts of Potemkin villages, a vision started to take shape: FAÇADISMS. Composed over three years, it’s a late capitalist lament of simmering electric despondency.

Irisarri’s obsession with repeating motifs mirrors the cyclical nature of our tumultuous political history. The album’s eight tracks heave and storm like a tempest being drained of its rage. This is the sound of majestic dissipation, of morning afters, fashioned from a mournful haze with cavernous guitars and granular twilight. A euphony of a receding tide as one sifts through the remnants of what remains: dust, delusion, and memory.

Opening with the somber gauze of “Broken Intensification," FAÇADISMS moves fluidly between moments of absence and abandon. Ashen swaths of electronics billow above smoldering embers of melody, guitar, and scattered streaks of processed strings and voice, as on the rapturous doom of “Control Your Soul's Desire for Freedom,” featuring Julia Kent on cello and Hannah Elizabeth Cox on vocals. "The impoverished peoples of the Americas have known all along that 'freedom' is a cruel illusion crafted by the elites, akin to Potemkin's fake villages designed to impress Catherine the Great," Irisarri indicates. "FAÇADISMS illustrates a twisted inversion where the rulers deceive their subjects with illusions of safety, democracy, and free speech to create a grotesque mirage of control over their own lives.”

Elsewhere, Irisarri leans into passages of hushed oblivion (“Hollow,” “Dispersion of Belief”), while ragged drones rumble and disintegrate into wind-battered ambient wreckage. One has the sense that it’s all too late. The hour of fury has passed. The beauty has come and gone. Irisarri’s muse has become the crack in the façade of the unraveling myth.

The record closes with a climax of grand departure. Co-written with Kenyan sound artist KMRU, “Red Moon Tide” surges from flickering elegy to celestial disquiet, roiling waves of hymnal descent, and bristling noise. The effect is unsettling and unmooring: a soundtrack for the soul leaving the body, only to discover a void. It’s the sound of the center not holding, of shared illusions being dissolved in a tunnel of white light.

The cover photograph captures a profound sense of desolation. Taken in the historic shanty town of La Perla, Puerto Rico, where Irisarri spent his childhood, brutal colonial mysteries are lost to time. A skeletal concrete structure decays against an expansive blue horizon. Only the shadow of its shell ripples on the empty sea.

Has the American myth finally run its course?

Since first bonding over Slowdive at a Texas karaoke bar six years ago, musicians Uriel Avila and Jonathan Perez have grown trauma ray into Fort Worth's foremost flag bearer of crushing shoegaze. A five-piece rounded out by bassist Darren Baun, drummer Nicholas Bobotas, and guitarist Coleman Pruitt, the band's debut album, Chameleon, captures their evolving sound at an apex of majestic devastation. A fusion of downer hooks, gauzy melancholia, and bulldozer riffs, the album heaves and crashes across 50 minutes of stacked amplifier alchemy. Lyrically the songs trace similarly lofty and brooding terrain; Avila says "The theme is death. And a chameleon, like death, can shape-shift in and out our lives in different forms." Chameleon opens with "Ember," dreamy and distant, alternately anthemic and apocalyptic, defeated and deafening. Lead single "Bishop" perfectly encapsulates trauma ray's depth and dimension, ripping out of the gate with "the biggest, baddest, saddest wall of sound." Lyrics about being burnt at the stake and "tossed in the flame" float above a stop-start assault of precision distortion, eventually expanding into a lush, heavy, sorrowful end coda. "Spectre" is a mysterious, introspective dirge, envisioned as a "mellow, slowcore, Duster-thing," all feeling and heavy fuzz chords (with no lead guitar). Avila wrote it, "to be a hymnal" from the perspective of someone who won't let go - a ghost, an ex, a shadow self. Although the album is rich with subtleties, graceful lulls, and "breaths of air," the band's three guitar attack is its defining force, a power flexed to its peak on "Bardo." Perez's intentions were blunt: "I wanted to write a riff that was hard as fuck." The result is alternately mean and eerie, veering between noisy one string bends and surging headbang, mapping a middle ground between Unwound and early-Deftones. One of trauma ray's greatest gifts is their ability to make doomy, sledgehammer heaviness sound like an earworm, without production tricks or gimmicks: "Riff, verse, chorus, three guitar parts - that's all you need." This quality is particularly apparent on the title track, a churning slab of amplifier worship, swirling chords, and heavenly, defeated vocals about not belonging, shape-shifting, and death ("A twisted face / Void of attention / An empty space / In your reflection"). "U.S.D.D.O.S" closes the album, swaying across seven minutes of grey skied guitar and haunted voice, subtly thickening as it deepens. Feedback and shrapnel gradually begin raining down, like a satellite disintegrating in the atmosphere. Titled as an acronym after a poem by Chilean writer Roberto Bolaño that loosely translates to "a dream within a dream," the melody softens, smears, and then disappears, slowly swallowed by the gravity of eternal descent. Chameleon is a masterpiece of craft, balance, melody, lyricism, and gravity, flexing a fresh vision of loud-quiet-loud architectures and the vertigo depths of blasted harmonics. From Slowdive to Nothing, to Hum and beyond, the band absorb and expand on their influences into a rare and dedicated alchemy. trauma ray's cinematic tempest is a gathering storm only just taking flight.

Since first bonding over Slowdive at a Texas karaoke bar six years ago, musicians Uriel Avila and Jonathan Perez have grown trauma ray into Fort Worth's foremost flag bearer of crushing shoegaze. A five-piece rounded out by bassist Darren Baun, drummer Nicholas Bobotas, and guitarist Coleman Pruitt, the band's debut album, Chameleon, captures their evolving sound at an apex of majestic devastation. A fusion of downer hooks, gauzy melancholia, and bulldozer riffs, the album heaves and crashes across 50 minutes of stacked amplifier alchemy. Lyrically the songs trace similarly lofty and brooding terrain; Avila says "The theme is death. And a chameleon, like death, can shape-shift in and out our lives in different forms." Chameleon opens with "Ember," dreamy and distant, alternately anthemic and apocalyptic, defeated and deafening. Lead single "Bishop" perfectly encapsulates trauma ray's depth and dimension, ripping out of the gate with "the biggest, baddest, saddest wall of sound." Lyrics about being burnt at the stake and "tossed in the flame" float above a stop-start assault of precision distortion, eventually expanding into a lush, heavy, sorrowful end coda. "Spectre" is a mysterious, introspective dirge, envisioned as a "mellow, slowcore, Duster-thing," all feeling and heavy fuzz chords (with no lead guitar). Avila wrote it, "to be a hymnal" from the perspective of someone who won't let go - a ghost, an ex, a shadow self. Although the album is rich with subtleties, graceful lulls, and "breaths of air," the band's three guitar attack is its defining force, a power flexed to its peak on "Bardo." Perez's intentions were blunt: "I wanted to write a riff that was hard as fuck." The result is alternately mean and eerie, veering between noisy one string bends and surging headbang, mapping a middle ground between Unwound and early-Deftones. One of trauma ray's greatest gifts is their ability to make doomy, sledgehammer heaviness sound like an earworm, without production tricks or gimmicks: "Riff, verse, chorus, three guitar parts - that's all you need." This quality is particularly apparent on the title track, a churning slab of amplifier worship, swirling chords, and heavenly, defeated vocals about not belonging, shape-shifting, and death ("A twisted face / Void of attention / An empty space / In your reflection"). "U.S.D.D.O.S" closes the album, swaying across seven minutes of grey skied guitar and haunted voice, subtly thickening as it deepens. Feedback and shrapnel gradually begin raining down, like a satellite disintegrating in the atmosphere. Titled as an acronym after a poem by Chilean writer Roberto Bolaño that loosely translates to "a dream within a dream," the melody softens, smears, and then disappears, slowly swallowed by the gravity of eternal descent. Chameleon is a masterpiece of craft, balance, melody, lyricism, and gravity, flexing a fresh vision of loud-quiet-loud architectures and the vertigo depths of blasted harmonics. From Slowdive to Nothing, to Hum and beyond, the band absorb and expand on their influences into a rare and dedicated alchemy. trauma ray's cinematic tempest is a gathering storm only just taking flight.

The Well is the second album by the duo So Sner, composed of Susanna Gartmayer (bass clarinet) and Stefan Schneider (electronics). Recorded over nearly two years in various studios and spaces, the album reflects So Sner's extensive touring across Europe. The final mixing took place in Vienna at the studio of Martin Siewert, who served as both co-producer and mastering engineer. Known for his meticulous attention to sonic detail, Siewert brings his unique techniques and distinctive sound enhancements to the album, resulting in a work that is both stylistically cohesive and daringly uncompromising.

So Sner’s critically acclaimed debut album REIME (TAL26, 2021) was celebrated for its innovative fusion of bass clarinet and electronic sounds in unexpected and surprising ways. With The Well, the duo explores both fluid and dissonant sonic landscapes, embracing different structural and sonic challenges. The result is a quieter, more introspective set of compositions than many might have anticipated. The album is a statement of two confident collaborators crafting complex, spatial musical moments in their own distinct manner.

The music on The Well generates a multiplicity of effects that transcend conventional oppositions such as hand-played versus programmed, composition versus improvisation, or analog versus digital. The album suggests a re-articulation of these categories, allowing the ten tracks to gradually blend one musical idea into another, and one musician into another, in a circular and complementary fashion. The polymetric permutations and exploratory reed components create a soundscape where all elements coexist harmoniously, without compromising or diminishing each other’s presence.

With its sparse sound architecture, The Well invites listeners into a space of effective emptiness, offering room for the mind and body to explore—a sonic island where one can develop sensuality through patient movement.

For So Sner, live performance is a passion of the mind, and since they began working together in 2020, their music has taken them to many different places. The live experience has deeply influenced the recorded music on this album, with the interplay between live performance and studio work informing their creative process. The Well captures the genuine act of exploring new territories, serving as a storage place for the time and space shared by the duo, re-filtering their experiences of performing and traveling together.

The Well is a lucidly playful and ambitious album by two contemporary musicians who are continually learning to create and respond to the subtle and significant changes in their music, maintaining momentum throughout the entire work.

In addition to her work with So Sner, Susanna Gartmayer has recently collaborated with artists such as Joe McPhee and Maria Portugal, and remains a member of her long-running band, the Vegetable Orchestra. Stefan Schneider, founder of the label TAL, has recently performed with Garth Erasmus from Cape Town and fine art luminary Katharina Grosse.

Belarusian post-punk / synth pop group Molchat Doma have always exuded the kind of brutalist aesthetic of the architecture that adorns their album art. It's cold, gray, imposing, industrial and yet there are human hearts beating within those foundations. In the wake of their breakthrough success in 2020, the trio endured a polarity of experiences, from the nadir of an uprooted life and forced relocation away from their native Minsk to the apex of headlining massive shows across the world. It was in this headspace that the band settled into their new home of Los Angeles to finish writing their fourth album Belaya Polosa, a testament to change in difficult times, a love letter to the digital pulse of the `90s, and a technicolor reinvention of the band's somber dancefloor anthems. From the opening synth swell and drum machine throb of "Ty Zhe Ne Znaesh' Kto Ya," to the goth / post-punk austerity of "Son", to the swirling electronic textures mixed with reverb-drenched guitar flourishes, expansive space, and yearning vocals of title track "Belaya Polosa" - that suggests Depeche Mode at their most reflective or The Cure at their most downtrodden - to the sultry and seductive "Chernye Cvety"_ a track reminiscent of Duran Duran's early `90s output in its fusion of dreamy guitars and authoritative mechanized beats _ and the interwoven layers of instrumentation, soaring chorus, and melodic sophistication of "Ya Tak Ustal", it's clear that Molchat Doma are operating on another level. Molchat Doma gained following with earlier albums that sound like third-generation bootlegs of banned recordings from the Eastern Bloc made after a few key entries in the Factory Records catalog were smuggled in from the West. Belaya Polosa propels them into a new direction while retaining their cold minimalist delivery they're known for. The basement grime and dirty tape-head sound of their previous work are now making space for digital luster and shimmering production values. And while Molchat Doma's broadened aural spectrum adds a synesthetic power to Belaya Polosa, the mood remains rooted in stark and unflinching self-reflection. Molchat Doma retain the duality of being both cold and feverish in their delivery while pushing their music into expanded territories through an armory of new textures. The trio continue to harness the sound of harrowing beauty thriving under harsh realities.

Belarusian post-punk / synth pop group Molchat Doma have always exuded the kind of brutalist aesthetic of the architecture that adorns their album art. It's cold, gray, imposing, industrial and yet there are human hearts beating within those foundations. In the wake of their breakthrough success in 2020, the trio endured a polarity of experiences, from the nadir of an uprooted life and forced relocation away from their native Minsk to the apex of headlining massive shows across the world. It was in this headspace that the band settled into their new home of Los Angeles to finish writing their fourth album Belaya Polosa, a testament to change in difficult times, a love letter to the digital pulse of the `90s, and a technicolor reinvention of the band's somber dancefloor anthems. From the opening synth swell and drum machine throb of "Ty Zhe Ne Znaesh' Kto Ya," to the goth / post-punk austerity of "Son", to the swirling electronic textures mixed with reverb-drenched guitar flourishes, expansive space, and yearning vocals of title track "Belaya Polosa" - that suggests Depeche Mode at their most reflective or The Cure at their most downtrodden - to the sultry and seductive "Chernye Cvety"_ a track reminiscent of Duran Duran's early `90s output in its fusion of dreamy guitars and authoritative mechanized beats _ and the interwoven layers of instrumentation, soaring chorus, and melodic sophistication of "Ya Tak Ustal", it's clear that Molchat Doma are operating on another level. Molchat Doma gained following with earlier albums that sound like third-generation bootlegs of banned recordings from the Eastern Bloc made after a few key entries in the Factory Records catalog were smuggled in from the West. Belaya Polosa propels them into a new direction while retaining their cold minimalist delivery they're known for. The basement grime and dirty tape-head sound of their previous work are now making space for digital luster and shimmering production values. And while Molchat Doma's broadened aural spectrum adds a synesthetic power to Belaya Polosa, the mood remains rooted in stark and unflinching self-reflection. Molchat Doma retain the duality of being both cold and feverish in their delivery while pushing their music into expanded territories through an armory of new textures. The trio continue to harness the sound of harrowing beauty thriving under harsh realities.

Belarusian post-punk / synth pop group Molchat Doma have always exuded the kind of brutalist aesthetic of the architecture that adorns their album art. It's cold, gray, imposing, industrial and yet there are human hearts beating within those foundations. In the wake of their breakthrough success in 2020, the trio endured a polarity of experiences, from the nadir of an uprooted life and forced relocation away from their native Minsk to the apex of headlining massive shows across the world. It was in this headspace that the band settled into their new home of Los Angeles to finish writing their fourth album Belaya Polosa, a testament to change in difficult times, a love letter to the digital pulse of the `90s, and a technicolor reinvention of the band's somber dancefloor anthems. From the opening synth swell and drum machine throb of "Ty Zhe Ne Znaesh' Kto Ya," to the goth / post-punk austerity of "Son", to the swirling electronic textures mixed with reverb-drenched guitar flourishes, expansive space, and yearning vocals of title track "Belaya Polosa" - that suggests Depeche Mode at their most reflective or The Cure at their most downtrodden - to the sultry and seductive "Chernye Cvety"_ a track reminiscent of Duran Duran's early `90s output in its fusion of dreamy guitars and authoritative mechanized beats _ and the interwoven layers of instrumentation, soaring chorus, and melodic sophistication of "Ya Tak Ustal", it's clear that Molchat Doma are operating on another level. Molchat Doma gained following with earlier albums that sound like third-generation bootlegs of banned recordings from the Eastern Bloc made after a few key entries in the Factory Records catalog were smuggled in from the West. Belaya Polosa propels them into a new direction while retaining their cold minimalist delivery they're known for. The basement grime and dirty tape-head sound of their previous work are now making space for digital luster and shimmering production values. And while Molchat Doma's broadened aural spectrum adds a synesthetic power to Belaya Polosa, the mood remains rooted in stark and unflinching self-reflection. Molchat Doma retain the duality of being both cold and feverish in their delivery while pushing their music into expanded territories through an armory of new textures. The trio continue to harness the sound of harrowing beauty thriving under harsh realities.

On her sophomore album "Germ in a Population of Buildings", upsammy moves through her surroundings with the curiosity of a place-bending landscape architect. The album is rooted in her interest for ambiguous environments in constant shift, and the feeling of discovering strange patterns in different ecosystems. Often, the Amsterdam-based artist finds herself zooming in and out beyond a place's most recognizable surface features to inhabit the microscopic and gigantic. Gathering field recordings and evocative environmental sounds, she shapes this source material into vibrating electro-acoustic rhythms and unstable, psychedelic textures. upsammy's debut album, 2020's critically-acclaimed "Zoom", was praised for its careful reimagining of IDM, evolving vignettes that nodded towards the dancefloor without being shackled to its rigid set of rules. On "Germ in a Population of Buildings" her process has evolved considerably; the skeletal trace of IDM is still present but it's been trapped in amber, allowing her unique sonic landscape to develop organically. 'Being is a Stone' is a proof of concept in many ways, layering upsammy's contorted voice in rickety patterns beneath a lattice of fragile rhythms and faintly melancholy synths. It's never immediately obvious where the sounds are coming from - a hiccuping beat might be glass cracking underfoot, and larger pulses could be wet concrete, rusted iron or bent plastic. As the sounds develop they morph into each other, demolishing what came before and building on top of the ornamental wreckage. On the dynamic 'Constructing', upsammy's sound design fluxes through hyperactive bass music structures, abstracting expectations at every turn. Often her sounds are whisper quiet, rattling and vibrating until heavier masonry drops and disrupts the structure. And when discernible rhythms subside into the background, like on the album's eerie title track, they become almost illusory, morphing between the real world and the electronic. upsammy's processed voice works like a bridge between these realms, snaking between stark, whimsical melodies on 'Patterning', arching from AutoTuned detachment into cooing, dreamy intimacy. By considering the harmonies between each location she's visited, upsammy has been able to build a unique topology that's an uncanny digital amalgam of her lived experience. It's a thoughtful alternative in an era more concerned with flatting the landscape than crumpling it and examining its peaks and troughs.

Music is a form of world building. I love to develop sonic characters and set them into fictional ecosystems with unique textures, acoustics and atmospheres. Each song forms a different landscape, through which a vocal character guides us and tries to tell us its stories." — Ludwig Berger

Ludwig Berger's 'fictional' debut album "Garden Ediacara" unfolds as a musical eco-fiction, guiding listeners through a speculative ecosystem with synthesized vocals. Infused with storytelling techniques from sci-fi and fantasy, the album intertwines melodic songwriting with electroacoustic sound design. Inspired by hydrofeminism and eco-fiction novels, such as "A Door Into Ocean" by Joan Slonczewski, the album delves into the geological period of Ediacara around 600 million years ago — an era so remote it resonates as a glimpse into a possible future. The Ediacaran period was characterised by a peaceful and thriving ecosystem inhabited by soft-bodied creatures without eyes and bones, which were completely wiped out through the appearance of a new species. "Garden of Ediacara" alludes to this period, celebrating both the pleasures of biodiversity as well as mourning its inevitable loss. The narrative unfolds as an exploration of growth and interconnection in the shadow of a coming extinction. The track titles, written by Daisy Lafarge, reveal themselves as a cohesive poem and contribute to the album's narrative.

Informed by his practice of field recording that focusses on intimate encounters with plants, animals and geological phenomena, as well as his studies in electroacoustic composition, Berger expands his palette for his debut in 'fictional' music. The album prominently features a post-human, non-binary death metal voice synthesizer, physical modeling instruments, and microscopic field recordings of plants, insects, as well as aquatic and geological life. With impressionistic strokes, Ludwig Berger crafts vibrant worlds using glassy timbres and more-than-human voices, guiding listeners through emotionally ambiguous terrain, seamlessly oscillating between moments of intimacy and irritation, melancholy and playfulness.

Ludwig Berger is a landscape sound artist, educator and musician. In his compositions, installations and performances, he enables intimate and playful sonic encounters with plants, animals, buildings and geological entities. He is founder and curator of the label Vertical Music, which releases field recordings and experimental music. Berger holds degrees in electroacoustic composition, as well as musicology, art history and literature. As a sound researcher and teacher at the Institute for Landscape Architecture at ETH Zurich from 2015-2022, he studied the sonic dimension of Japanese gardens, alpine glaciers and urban landscapes, which among other things led to the release of the acclaimed album trilogy 'Melting Landscapes', 'Dammed Landscapes' and 'Buried Landscapes'.

Gatefold Sleeve / 180g Vinyl

Returning to the well of Roger Doyle once again, his “Babel” project spans a decade of composition work before its’ initial release in 1999 as a 5CD set. Over 100 pieces and almost 50 collaborators it marks a journey through a virtual tower of Babel with each piece corresponding to a room within an imagined giant tower city. For the 25th Anniversary vinyl edition Doyle has revisited it- remastering it and providing its first vinyl edit - 80 minutes spread across two 180gm LP’s - rounding out the package with extended liner notes and a download code to the full 6 hours.

We’ve previously explored Roger’s Operating Theatre days and the idea for this project came in the early nineteen eighties while Doyle was heavily involved with the experimental theatre group. Working with emerging technologies and across a variety of genres he realised that he would be unlikely to achieve an overarching compositional style. Instead deciding to make a virtue out of the fact that he composed so schizophrenically, he wished to create a musical alphabet out of short abstract sounds with these sounds being analogous to phonemes in speech. With Blade Runner and sci-fi embedded in the zeitgeist of the times he came to the idea of the Tower of Babel as both a futuristic skyscraper and also an embodiment of language.

In the spring of 1990 Babel was finally begun and kept growing until it reached over 6 hours of music and was released in 1999.A large-scale musical structure making use of many technologies and music languages, with each piece of music being thought of as a 'room' or place within an enormous tower city. Each track in the main section corresponds to a virtual sonic architecture. The pieces are divided into two kinds: aural representations of actual spaces like The Dressing Room, The Stairwell and Mr. Brady's Room alongside internalised dream spaces like the Room Of Rhetoric, the Spirit Levels and the Mansard childhood memory room. Listeners can navigate their way differently through this virtual building at each hearing. As a supplement to the Babel Tower KBBL - the fictitious radio station – broadcasts a number of shows. Each has its own style and atmosphere. Collaborating with DJs, actors, writers and singers, KBBL is made to sound like a real radio station with ads, traffic reports and phone-ins.

Examples of the connections within the project can be found via the architecture were the saxophonist in the off-stage dressing room is rehearsing for her solo in the concert-hall (heard in Pagoda Charm) or the room off the stairwell, where the sounds of piano lessons and apartment life can be heard and the apartment where a muffled KBBL can be overheard At a molecular level The Iron Language Alphabet is a sound alphabet containing tiny fragments of sound representing letters or characters of an alien alphabet. This sound alphabet can be heard scattered through other pieces like The Room of Rhetoric, Pagoda Charm and in KBBL in Johnny’s Body at 002. Other molecular scatterings can be found in Cantilena where two songs sung by Operating Theatre’s Elena Lopez in KBBL are exploded and re-arranged to form new entities.

Doyle’s Babel celebrates language - a slight variation on the Biblical morality tale - and musical expression in all its variety.

Rock & Roll, indeed. Ruth Brown’s sizzling full-length debut — also known by its eponymous title — symbolizes what was exciting, fresh, invigorating, and raw about the burgeoning style in its halcyon days. Originally released in 1957, and reissued here in audiophile quality for the first time in partnership with Atlantic Records’ 75th anniversary, the set remains a testament to one of the most pioneering and talented vocalists to ever command a stage.

Mastered on Mobile Fidelity Sound Lab's renowned mastering system in California, pressed at RTI, housed in a Stoughton jacket, and strictly limited to 2,000 numbered copies, Mobile Fidelity’s 180g mono LP of Rock & Roll plays with an immediacy, vibrancy, and fullness that showcase the reach, power, and emotionalism of Brown’s voice. The sound of her support musicians — brassy horns, swinging rhythm combos, echoing backing vocalists, rollicking pianists, jaunty guitarists — is made clear and vivid, helping the upbeat fare to jump, juke, and jive with newfound energy and exuberance. In a related manner, Brown’s slower, more understated material crackles with an intimacy and passion that let you know you're in the presence of a woman who has lived what she sings. The longtime Rock and Roll Hall of Fame member deserves nothing less.

In an era dominated by big-throated vocalists, few — if any — came grander than Brown. The singer, whose repeat million-selling ‘50s success with Atlantic Records led many to call the then-indie label “The House That Ruth Built,” charted two dozen R&B hits in the span of a decade for the fledgling imprint. Rightly coined “Miss Rhythm,” the extroverted Brown put Atlantic on the national map, became the best-selling female musician of the ‘50s, and established a precedent that would ultimately lead to Grammy and Tony Awards. Her early works have lost none of their fire or flair.

Akin to many full-length LPs of its era, Rock & Roll doubles as a collection. Its 14 tracks comprise some of the more famous sides Brown recorded for Atlantic, beginning in 1949 with the all-time-great rendition of the ballad “So Long,” and continuing through 1956. After the song caught the public’s ear, the Virginia native briefly became known for her smoldering style with lovelorn material and torch songs, approaching them (see “Oh What a Dream,” “Old Man River”) with a combination of pained sadness and hardened resilience that had no contemporary equal. Encouraged to pursue the style by Atlantic Records co-founder Ahmt Ertegun, her R&B-driven material soon made her a constant chart presence.

Demonstrating what fellow legend Bonnie Raitt deemed “sex with class and dignity,” Brown merges blues and jazz, swing and gospel in electrifying fashion. She dares you not to move, dance, and get on your feet. A majority of Rock & Roll explodes with uptempo runs and jaunty readings of hot-blooded R&B numbers. Sweaty and sultry, bawdy and bold, Brown eclipses the anthemic blare of the saxophones and joyful clatter of the 88s, singing with a slight catch in her voice and hurricane-gale force that threatens to blow the roof off whatever room her voice occupies.

Evidence abounds. Listen to her prod the band and encourage the band members to blow a fuse on a sizzling “Hello Little Boy,” complete with cries and wails; stretch her phrasing to the heavens on the swaying “Wild Wild Young Men,” laden with romp-and-stomp beats; plead and persuade on the snaking “5-10-15 Hours,” which flips the script on the age’s notions of dominance; use her raspy tones, high notes, and breath control to mesmerizing effect on the smash “Mama He Treats Your Daughter Mean,” recorded with a group led by Ray Charles; survey the scene and take charge on the steaming “As Long as I’m Moving”; and tap a classy albeit flirtatious vein on “Lucky Lips,” which dented the pop charts as her first crossover hit.

Throughout Rock & Roll, Brown knows the lyrical connotations and spirited architecture of the songs inside-out. Her assertive voice — never harsh, strident, or false — is the epitome of the passionate desires and sonic strains that turned into nascent rock ’n’ roll. Brown played a pivotal role in helping the style develop, the record a timeless reminder of a lasting legacy that will never be forgotten.

The visionary French musician stays true, in this third compendium too, to his path of planetary asceticism. A new treasure chest of secrets reveals to us the same spirituality of total experimentation, by balancing the universe and the inner soul. In Taste The Fullness Of Life Ariel builds his symphonic pillars toward the cosmos, eternal architectures that always smell of Indian fragrances. The music always communicates a state of full grace, spreading balms of bliss. An unprecedented whispered narrating voice, evident especially in Spiritual Chanson D'Esprit, is embellished with textures of harmonic bells, tropical flutes, spacey harmoniums and drones of mystical light. In the recordings of Going Inward, also made on the occasion of a Tantric workshop, Kalma oscillates between tribal electronic dances, metalic almost industrial rhythms, but then always falls back in a comfort zone made of desert carpets of synths and baths of sound (gong/bells). Harmonica Galactica crowns interestellar dreams with unscrupulous drum-machine gears and pulsing saxes, superb use of VCS3 with arabesque and Schulzian overtones, and suave touches of fingerpicking guitar with freak vibes typical of psych-folk.

Named for the rewind mechanism on the reel to reel tape machine on which the band tracked the album, Auto Locator coils up the chemical trails of ribbon binding old places and head spaces to our consciousness. Static and hiss leach between analog track layers, blurring the normal and paranormal to remind us that no memory is totally separate from a fiction - just like no drum track is totally separate from bass.

Over Auto Locator's ten songs, Del Paxton rip shit like a band entering their second decade of existence. On-the-nose opener "Freight Train Metaphor" throws listeners face first into the band's first album since 2017, with a syncopated pulse and arpeggiating guitar foreshadowing a record replete with punkish, serpentine composition. "Up With a Twist," the album's lead track, deals in Del Paxton's crashing punk vibrance, through which the band explores and laments the uninspired architecture of American sprawl.

Second single "Chart Reader", whose origins trace back to a psychedelic dream inspired by Wayfaring Strangers: Cosmic American Music, sees the trio dabbling in emo Americana, even featuring a nod to John Denver's "Take Me Home, Country Roads." Such unashamed references abound throughout Auto Locator, which takes further inspiration from bands like Mock Orange, Third Eye Blind, and Jimmy Eat World, all of whose influence can be heard on "Palpitations" and third single "Spiritual Gymnastics."

Bob Dylan was at several crossroads in the mid-1970s. Artistically, he was largely written off as being past his prime. Emotionally, he was suffering through a painful divorce from his then-wife Sara Lowndes. Creatively, he appeared at a stalemate, his previous decade's unprecedented run of transformational brilliance finished. Then came Blood on the Tracks.

A start-to-finish cycle that documents a lover's pursuit of, entanglement with, and loss of a woman, the bracingly intimate 1975 effort remains one of the most encompassing break-up albums ever made and ranks as the most personal statement of the Bard's career. To hear it is to experience the agony, frustration, trauma, highs, lows, confusion, sadness, and, ultimately, requisite redemption associated with intimate relationships gone astray. Dylan maintains it's a work of fiction, but it's evident close-vested autobiographical premise is what helps make it universal: It's the icon singing through tears, going out of his mind, battling hallowing emptiness, firing shots across the bow, and accepting culpability. It is, in short, a consummate expression of love's darker sides and the consequences of what happens when dreams unravel.

As part of its Bob Dylan catalogue restoration series, Mobile Fidelity is thoroughly humbled to have the privilege of mastering the iconic LP from the original master tapes and pressing it on dead-quiet LP at RTI. The end result is the very finest, most transparent analogue edition of Blood on the Tracks ever produced – and the first-ever proper analog reissue. Fantastically presenting both the solo acoustic and band-supported songs with the utmost clarity, dynamics, presence, immediacy, spaciousness, imaging, and balance, this version shines a high-powered light on the fluid vocal phrasing, timbral shifts, functional rhythms, and inward-looking strumming that contribute to every song here serving as a wound-exposing confessional.

For all the melancholic pain, unresolved questions, shattered memories, wasted times, unrequited dialogues, and weary regret within, Blood on the Tracks remains as daring as it is reflective. Rather than follow for a monotone caustic vibe, Dylan's songs burrow into the subconscious for the manners in which they are even-keeled, mellow, and occasionally, even peaceful. Dignity, honour, poignancy, and fairness – all traits uncommon in any situation in which partners dissolve histories, change hearts, and attribute blame – instil the record with equilibrium on par with the consistency of the flowing melodies.

Throughout, tunes come on and proceed as if they could continue forever, Dylan spinning poetic verses and conversations amidst finely tied knots of acoustic notes, chords, and fills, the deceivingly simple architecture conjuring the intertwined refractions of a bezeled jewel, various angles, colours, and textures conjoining into a gorgeously inseparable whole. Backed by Tony Brown's flexible albeit subtle bass, Buddy Cage's country-streaked pedal-steel guitar, and Paul Griffin's soul-baring organ – an instrument used to shadow, tuck-point, and illuminate here as effectively as any time in rock history – Dylan pours soulful emotion, open his veins, and bleeds.

Ranked 16 on Rolling Stone's list of the 500 Greatest Albums of All Time, and replete with existential thought, piercing directness, raw singing, and majestic arrangements,

Given the sonic and artistic merit of this album, we anticipate huge demand.

Mirai is a 2018 Japanese animated adventure fantasy comedy film written and directed by Mamoru Hosoda and produced by Studio Chizu (known for Belle, Wolf Children and The Boy and the Beast). The film stars the voices of Moka Kamishiraishi, Haru Kuroki and Gen Hoshino a.o. It was met with critical acclaim and became nominated for an Academy Award in 2019 for Best Animated Feature Film. Additionally, the movie received an Annie Award in the same year.

Mirai follows the story of a four-year-old boy named Kun whose world is turned upside down when he meets his new baby sister. After venturing into a magical garden, Kun encounters strange guests from the past and future, including his sister Mirai, as a teenager. Together, Kun and teenage Mirai go on a journey through time and space, uncovering their family's incredible story.

The soundtrack for the film was written by Masakatsu Takagi, who had previously scored Hosoda's Wolf Children and The Boy and the Beast. His work for Studio Chizu has been praised for its magical and whimsical atmosphere. For Mirai specifically, this dreamy aesthetic was mixed with a contemporary sound and made to be simple in tone and be reflective of family.

Brian Jonestown Massacre, Velvet Underground, TOY. “Upon the highways of Freedom, where Evil is like a Ferrari… “ Unbeknownst to its members, Index For Working Musik was born on an evening in late 2019 amidst the discovery of a collection of faded b&w photocopies that had been marinating on the floor of a urine-alley in the Gothic Quarter of Barcelona. An assortment of sacred and profane imagery were crumpled amongst an essay on early Christian hermits, entitled Men Possessed by God, the meaning of which was enticingly vague. Received together, they planted the seeds for a new endeavour. Though Max Oscarnold and Nathalia Bruno were already engaged in a creative ping-pong of sorts, the results to this point had only totaled a 30 min long ½ inch tape containing one track and four interludes. They needed a page and they needed ink, and they needed a place and it needed energy. Suddenly by chance or divine intervention, their experimental venture had been given form and direction. Back home in London’s cursed smog, they moved themselves and their 8-track studio into a basement in E8, where the project’s gravitational pull gained strength, quickly developing into an unexpected collective with the incorporation of drummer Bobby Voltaire, double bass player E. Smith and guitarist J. Loftus. As the world shifted around them and the Plague Years followed, it became increasingly clear that they were not going to leave that small basement room. The scarcity of light or outer world presence was less a limitation, instead the main tool at hand, allowing the recording to stretch for boundaryless days in architectural isolation, and forcing them to make straight forward free guitar music, adopting a ‘first thought, best thought’ approach. 35 minutes of repeat phrased guitars, slow-clipped drums and dulcet vocals where the recurring landscape is the desert. Reel-to reel-loops of Afghan music compete with the found sound overlays of voices recorded at the queue of the pharmacy and drum machines borrowed from Spanish heroes, channelling both far-off climes and snippets from a closer reality. It’s a strange psychic brew, built of imagined mysticism and domestic realities, of fever dreams and days that stretched into weeks of months. What was sparked by that discovery in the Gothic Quarter was actually a realisation that what they were looking for was with them all the while, buried as it was in piles of voice memos and recorded guitar feedback. Men Possessed By God they may be not: it was self-possession that was to guide their way in the end. “Life, despite all its destructive changes, remains indestructibly powerful and joyful

Cory Hanson"s third solo LP follows upon 2020"s luminescent Pale Horse Rider, upping the heat to molten levels, six strings at a time. In search of further adventures, Cory draws with vampiric glee from the madness coursing through the world outside; a spiraling shitshow that"s reawakened a compulsion in him - an old ambition, even! - to crush brutality and elegance together into a fresh set of rocks to hail down upon us. Western Cum is a high-stepping, hard-dancing, first love/heartbreak, tonight"s-the-night, future nostalgia kind of good time - the sound of guitars through the speakers of luxury cars. Like the dream you had once, alone, asleep in an amplifier, blasting Guns N" Roses through every last orifice in your body. And it"s coming through! Western Cum"s map to the treasure is less about pastiche, though; more toward executing the songs by executioner"s axe, rolling their decapitated rhythm heads and soaring melodies, the panoply of Cory"s melodic impulses with guitars, guitars, guitars. Harmony leads are just the tip of the iceberg, but be quick - the guitars like to melt everything in their path! The eight songs of Western Cum are driven by the stalwart bass of brother Casey Hanson and the drums of Evan Backer with a few passing acoustics from Cory and the intermittent spirit-moans of Tyler Nuffer"s steel guitar. The quartet sound - two guitars, bass and drums - acts as beat-making principle/phrasing device, as well as template for Cory"s layers of six-string and vocal textures. From the rooftop of their musical safe house - the band in their makeshift hut and Cory ensconced in an outhouse - they let loose with a blast both face-melting and mind-blowing: a social service that gives constipation a good name.

Abstrakce recover this lost gem recorded in 1999 and published by Keliehor himself in a very short-run CD named "Create Music", which had almost no diffusion.

An outstanding collection of exotic tracks with a wide range of influences from primitive cultures all over the world. An unexplored region where the Minimalism concepts developed by Steve Reich, La Monte Young, or Terry Riley and renewed by Midori Takada meet Jon Hassell's 4th world ideas.

You will find here repetitive patterns that evolve and transform the sound space, unlikely instruments gathered together in a perfectly harmonic way, making flow an unusual melodic sense when the uncommon combinations of these instruments interact with one another. Simple instruments, yet exotic, primitive sound makers with complex personalities, timeless sound treasures unchanging a hundred years. Crude or sophisticated, most of the instruments, compel us to listen to them. A more flexible and wider range of tonality is discovered by limiting the number of instruments that play together and choosing those whose tones and harmonics resonate together.

The record results from a didactic project for nursery and primary school environments while searching for ideas to guide children in following the details of music. The music architectures are often transparent, even repetitive, but the culminative effect soon becomes more than that. These pieces are aural landscapes for dreams and adventures, doorways to imaginative worlds.

The Artists:

Jon Keliehor and Signy Jakobsdottir performed together in Seattle, Venezuela, and Scotland. During their stay in Seattle, both had studied gamelan music with Gamelan Pacifica under the direction of Jarrad Powell. After returning to Scotland, they continued to study and perform with Gamelan Naga Mas, in Glasgow, in projects directed by dhalang Joko Susilo, dancer/director Nyoman Wenten, and Professor Matthew Issac Cohen.

In Scotland, they created adult and children's workshops under the banner of Luminous Music. Preceding the formation of Luminous Music, Keliehor had worked as percussionist and composer with contemporary dance companies, both in London and Seattle. Following on studies in percussion music at Dartington College of the Arts, Signy moved to Seattle to begin work with Jon. The partnership that ensued brought them to Caracas, Costa Rica, Brazil and Spain to create music for the dance company DanzaHoy. In 1996, they returned to Glasgow, and continued to work together at the newly created Luminous Music Studios. Signy's involvement with musicians/groups has continued beyond this to include genres in Scottish/Celtic traditions, in Jazz, as well as music innovations of her own design.

Wirski’s debut on MISBHV Recordings offers a nuanced narrative operating in its own genre of Eastern European rough-edged club melancholy.

MISBHV004 opens with Inside The Dark Echo – a claustrophobic, stifling, relentless, sensual dance with desire. Darkroom complexity with heavy surface tension built on an EBM undercurrent flirt with subtle psychedelia and traces of acid that slowly firm up their multi-layered grip through its running time of six and a half minutes.

Warszawa paints a stripped-back, tantalizing picture. Opening with a brutalist, militant drum programming and surprisingly spacious, warm bassline, its rigid rhythm, tightened up by a repetitive, cold breath mantra eventually opens up to bright, shimmering synth flickers evoking olibanum – the sacred scent of altar candles. Warszawa is looking at the multilayered melody of its landscape – from eerie Soc-realist blockhouses, through neon-lit, seedy strip clubs of the 90s to opulent sacral architecture.

Warm Waters Of Eternity subtly weave a cinematic, Carpenteresque soundscape with a sense of overpowering, ecstatic innocent euphoria that invokes a dream of an early 1990s rave deep in the dark woods of Poland.

Dauw presents 'babel', the debut album from Belgian duo ZONDERWERK. The duo’s name means ‘’without work’’, but it also comes from “bijzonder werk”, where bijzonder is particular, special, unique. They like to work with images/paintings that are “bijzondere werken”, odd works.

babel is an ambitious exercise in translating images into sound. babel was initially created for the eponymous theatre piece by architect and artist Steve Salembier. Inspired by the biblical legend, Salembier envisions the legendary city as an abstract, sprawling modern metropolis in continuous flux. Its steel and glass skeleton is a representation of both an accumulation of overlapping contemporary cityscapes and a metaphor for the anonymous repetitiveness of our daily routines mirrored by the architecture. Subway lines, sky scrapers and whirling highways converge into a megalopolis of monstrous proportions. Despite the composition’s initial context as soundtrack for a theatre play, for the band this album is seen as a standalone work, whose complex sonic material can be appreciated without having seen the piece.

Their score focuses on fleshing out the imposing imaginary universe both in terms of scale and meaning. One of their biggest inspirations were Michael Woolf’s photographs, which served as the basis for the original theatre piece. His use of grey and repetition is translated into looped harmonies and fine-grained drones that progressively open up like blooming ice flowers.

With sounds of bells and metal as their primary materials, Carrijn and Sanders build soundscapes that are at once seductive and unsettling. The atmosphere on tracks like “DreamArp4Kort4” make for majestic, mysterious synths conjuring otherworldly visions, while the angelic glockenspiel set against subtle explosions in “VuurFeest” suggest a serene yet potentially dangerous place. Other tracks like “RoomCarousselTapeLoop5” create multi- layered textured drones through the process of tape decay, a commentary on the cannibalistic nature of the city.

Resulting from an arduous improvisational processusingold samplers with elements such as the Beam harp, a self-made metal instrument with piano strings, reel to reel tape recorders, field recordings and violin, babel perfectly captures the oxymoron of the man-made concrete jungle that is at once inhospitable yet endlessly awe-inducing.

ZONDERWERK is a duo consisting of Linde Carrijn and Dijf Sanders who started this project during the pandemic as a way of exploring their relationship as creative partners. Carrijn has a background in acting but recently came more to the fore as composer/performer with original scores for theatre and her other band Brik Tu-Tok founded with multi-disciplinary artist Maxim Storms. Sanders is a composer and gear enthusiast, more well-known for his eclectic works that draw from a wide-array of non-Western music. His milestone-album Moonlit Planetarium paved to way to a broader audience and recognition from major press in Belgium. In 2021, his work as a producer was recognized with a nomination at the Music Industry Awards.

Edition OF 500 copies, Comes with insert and download code.

An album that sounds like The Menahan Street Band playing in a tropical jungle, at dawn, right at the point when the first rays of sunlight penetrate the dark depths of the forest. During the 2022 summer of natural disasters, under an unprecedented heatwave, and haunted by news reports of ancient relics, sunken ships, and hunger stones resurfacing as rivers dried-up all-over Europe, Amsterdam based multi-instrumentalist producer Alex Figueira started to hear uncanny metallic vibrations And eerie melodies of untraceable origins, day and night. He recalls nightmares of winged creatures inside timeless structures of Escherian architectures playing cosmic instruments amidst tropical storms
and acid rains. As the visions came more often, his wife reported that he babbled during his sleep about South American demon Yurupari. Soon, Alex found himself in a sleepless state and decided to cleanse the studio, with hallowed rites and
the intense burning of Palo Santo. After almost burning the studio down, he turned to his neighbourhood’s most experienced psychic, seeking answers. He was told there were “cosmic entities” trying to manifest a message “too complex for us to understand in this dimension” and the only way he could find peace was to deliver those messages in a decipherable form. It was then he decided to transmute his hallucinations into music, an all-or-nothing cathartic solution.

Alex entered a feverish dream, fuelled by the kaleidoscopic motion of the cosmos, ancient meteor showers, and visions of forgotten interstellar South American gods. He remembers very little of the work, but the outcome is this record. Entirely composed, recorded, produced, and mixed in a frenetic nine-day studio stint.

How the experts describe it:

”Just when outernational vinyl vampires thought they had it all sewn up, the metronomic makeshift
magician known as Alex Figueira unravels the entire fabric of your record collection to expose a gaping
hole where PUNKUMBIA and Transplant-Tropicalia should be. Reducing an expansive palette of
influences to a recipe that tastes wildly exotic but comfortably over-familiar, Alex’s roles as both
scavenger and chef, bookend a whole ensemble of other highly adept musical personalities in between.
Discover this record NOW, or wait until all your friends (or enemies) recommend it to you later.”
Andy Votel (Finders Keepers)

“Incendiary, lysergic takes on South American and Caribbean music from one of the scene's truly
authentic and eccentric producers. You can always count on Venezuelan-born, Amsterdam-based,
multi-instrumentalist, music-fanatic Alex Figueira to surprise and innovate, whilst consistently keeping it
true and real. The former Fumaça Preta drummer & front-man's debut solo album does not disappoint!”
Miles Cleret (Soundway)

“The one man band Alex Figueira comes through with some major flavors on this one. Cumbia beats and
psychedelic elements with that Latin touch of soul & Funk!”
Kenny Dope (Masters at Work)

“I really respect Alex Figueira’s DIY ethos. From running his own little funky recordstore to running his
own label and making his own music by playing every instrument himself. I was already a fan of the song
“Aprende” which he released on 7 inch and with“Mentallogenic” he takes it a step further in that same
vibe. From songs like “La Culebra” making use of a vocoder in his typical latin sound to songs like
“Serious” playing with rhythmic changes and topping it off with some synth flavors. A lovely and fun
album”.
Antal (Rush Hour).