Cerca:dream cycle part 3

2024 Repress

After 7 years and countless requests, Sneaker Social Club finally deliver a repress of Dream Cycle - Part One.

After a chance meeting at Gottwood in 2016 a bond was established between Dream Cycle (Robin Clarke) and label owner Jamie Russell over a shared love of 2 Bad Mice and Moving Shadow. It wasn't long before Clarke began channeling elements of that influence to produce his Dream Cycle Part.1 EP. Unfolding over 4 steppy tracks and an ambient closer, Clarke melds sharp snares, summery motifs, dense atmospheres and thick subs whilst keeping things suffused with a distinctly UK quality that marries his work perfectly with the Sneaker catalogue.

DJ Support: Ryan Elliott, DJ Die, The Blessed Madonna, Octo Octa, Bwana, Altered Natives, Noodles (Groove Chronicles), Liem (Lehult), Deejay Astral, LA4A, 2 Bad Mice, Fred P, Matt Karmil, Flori, Marco Zenker, J.Rocc (lol at comment!), Ajukaja, Gnork, William Djoko, Till Von Sein, Fold, ASOK, Gene Farris, DJ bwin, Seven Davis Jr, TRP, DJ Octopus, DJ Normal 4, Gerd, Dean Man s Chest, Poté, Doc Scott, Violet, James Welsh (Kamera), Konx-om-Pax, Etch, Raresh, Hrdvsion, Michael Serafini (Gramaphone), Frazer Ray, DJ Guy, Mak & Pasteman, Shenoda, Urulu, Mark Archer & James Zabiela, Zinc, Lehult, Jackie House, Mosca, Noodles (Groove Chronicles) & DJ Die.

Dich lieb ich, Erde! trauerst du doch mit mir! Und unsre Trauer wandelt wie Kinderschmerz In Schlummer sich und wie die Winde Flattern und flüstern im Saitenspiele

The third stanza of Friedrich Hölderlin’s poem ‘Dem sonnengott’ evokes a narrator who is tortured by Spleen until slumber makes his childlike gloom disappear with music. Although today’s readers might judge these nineteenth century musings of the Imagination as mere stylistic platitudes, they also still speak beyond the grave as universal truths. A mere two hundred years later similar anxieties and hopes are still channeled through various art forms, with changing success and reverberation. Brannten Schnüre are one of those neo-romantic music experimentalists who add to a long tradition of celebrating folk tale and exoticism. Their meticulously crafted loops, hesitant melodies and heavily nostalgic lyricism could easily be translated to what the late philosopher and music critic Mark Fisher called ‘hauntology’, a postmodern longing for a lost future. To describe the beauty of ‘Geträumt hab’ ich vom Martinszug’, however, the term seems somewhat dissatisfying. Romanticism is a hard nut to crack in the Anthropocene, and Brannten Schnüre’s realms of the cerebral are too deeply ingrained in a German tradition of story telling to define them within popular paradigm.

‘Geträumt hab’ ich vom Martinszug’ was recorded in 2014 in Würzburg and functions as the autumn part of the band’s seasonal cycle quadrilogy (the other segments being ‘Aprilnacht’ (SicSic), ‘Sommer im Pfirsichhain’ (Aguirre) and ‘Durch unser zugedecktes Tal’ (Youdonthavetocallitmusic)). It deals with the Saint Martin’s parade, a mostly European tradition to celebrate the medieval spirit of Saint Martin of Tours, friend of children and patron of the poor. Around 11 November children come out on the streets with lanterns and sing ancient songs in exchange for sweets. It’s a period of snugness and expectation, of yearning and dreaming, and therefore a consummate subject for the duo to scrutinize.

To the adult’s ear the dream of the Saint Martin’s parade isn’t all that consolatory. The dark and slow loops of Christian Schoppik rather sound like motifs for a welcome paralysis. Sometimes as a gentle backdrop for vocals by Katie Rich and Schoppik himself, the repetitive structures serve as tricksters that trade innocence for the uncanny. The dream becomes a fever dream which quickly absorbs the listener into a vacuum, an eternal post-panic attack semi-relief. Maybe that’s the amazing paradox of Brannten Schnüre. The space they occupy is never comforting – as if being locked up inside a Carl Grossberg painting – but it’s also a subliminal aural zone you do not want to leave. It’s music as being, as a stream, devoid of climax or catharsis. And because it is flux and being, and exists to be taken, it speaks in art’s purest form. ‘In place of a hermeneutics we need an erotics of art’ Susan Sontag famously concluded her essay ‘Against Interpretation’ with. Well, look no further …

H- side is etched
The American cable-television industry exploded in the 1980s, pushing broadcasts of diverse programming and emissions of low-laying cultures into homes. Community stations piggybacked on the digital developments of the time, extending their existence through telephony and broadcast a iliates. For those growing up in this time, in locations such as New York City, the localized communications beamed into their homes exposed them to an impressionable array of disparate sounds and visions.
Move into the 1990s and New York was filled to the brim of emergent cultures drawing from this ebullition of communication. From Rammellzee’s shapeshifting to the late Judy Russell and Frank and Karen Mendez’s Nu Groove imprint fusing reggae, poetry and house, nascent ideas emanated from the city walls, from within stores such as Sonic Groove store and on VHS releases such as Stakker’s The Evil Acid Baron Show, a legendary technicolor psychedelic trip along the wildest frontiers of acid house. As scenes expanded and identities developed, such individuals weather the events of the visceral now, expressing themselves right into an unpredictable future.
Function’s long career has seen him uncover a vast range of sonic identities, a mainstay through house, techno and industrial with collaborations with the likes of Regis, Damon Wild alongside his highly influential Infrastructure imprint. With influences deeply tied to pop art, rave and gay scenes, and early memories of block-parties emitting Kraftwerk and Strafe, he found himself seeking out the undercover illegal nights of the 90s on a quest of sexual unearthing, mixing the ever-yearning escapology mission of disco with the influential DJ sets of Jeff Mills.
For his new album Existenz, he marks a clear step away from the corporeal techno of his recent releases. Pivoting around themes of religion, sexuality, trauma and healing, it is a work expansive and celebratory, a clear liberation from a deeply internalized past. Formed from a collection of recordings made in a period from late 2016 to mid 2019, Existenz takes the form of a creative outburst in reaction to a number of traumas - recent, childhood and throughout Function’s life. Life partner Stefanie Parnow assisted the production process in its entirety, providing inspiration, spiritual healing and featuring vocal contributions.
Cosmic synths soar and swoop in ‘Pleasure Discipline’ through towering stacks of rhythm that stutter and creak to a halt before rebooting, a firm robotic response to human intervention. ‘Zahlensender’ reflects a spatial tetris of urban life, as digitalization set within an XYZ matrix confronts the sprawling city. Constant arpeggiated meditations echo synaptic transmissions, e ecting a dissolution of boundaries. ’The Approach’ recalls the unification of the self, a state of delirium non-subjective and smooth, as all connections and functions give way to simple intensities of feeling, crossing the threshold into spirituality. ’Golden Dawn’, featuring Stefanie Parnow, marks a further elevation of dubbed-out euphoria, as once more positive rays emerge. His ode to the effortless short-trip urban navigation 'Kurzstrecke' finds Function in motion, upfront and bold, snapshots of conversation and flickers of light. 'Ertrinken' finds metallic bass jabs swamping snipped synthetic voices, with hidden stores of emotion set as a nod to the history of vocoders as a tool for encrypted military communication. House icon Robert Owens features on 'Growth Cycle' and 'Be', entrenching a celebratory atmosphere over Function's clubwise leanings. Closing track 'Downtown 161' reflects the unmistakeable filtered and squashed interjections of television, and sampled dance vocals - a sound for the curious, dreamers and dancers.
With Existenz, Function reveals an essential body of work, spread over 4LP - thought experiments on the role of identity and spirituality after a lifetime of upheaval and trauma. Leading up until the release date, Function will undertake an album promo tour with select dates - A/V shows at Berlin Atonal and Rural festival in Japan, and three dates as part of his Bassiani residency.

Lately, it feels like the world is one endless bad news cycle. Joshua Idehen isn’t here to pretend otherwise – but on the spoken word artist’s new album, I Know You’re Hurting, Everyone Is Hurting, Everyone Is Trying, You Have Got To Try, he provides a phenomenal sonic, poetic space. Made with his creative partner, musician Ludvig Parment, the album (out 6 March 2026) is an urgent but transcendent collection that holds you through it all, filled with grief, euphoria and hope.

I Know You’re Hurting… comes after the virality of Idehen’s track Mum Does The Washing, a wry and whipsmart poem examining how the world works (which started life as a Twitter thread), set to Parment’s spacious beats. The song has seen the pair propelled beyond Idehen’s wildest dreams this past year.

Across the album, that means uplifting choirs, cozy samples and exuberant, sometimes house-tinged beats. “I am personally drawn to music that transports you to a place, or scene or mindset,” says Parment. This is topped with ruminative musings on morality and human connection; about the longer loves in life – like friendships, family – that sustain us. These come from Idehen and Parment, along with a host of friends and collaborators, including writers Leone Ross and Charlotte Manning, and vocalist Amanda Bergman, to help expand on the topics of the record without sounding preachy. Similarly, there are musical guests including saxophonist Pete Fraser and Shabaka Hutchings on flute, each helping to imbue the album with a rich warmth.

Isa Gordon and Tony Morris were first brought together through their individual releases on Optimo Music, which established mutual respect within the label’s community. While they had not previously performed live together, they were invited to take part in a fundraiser hosted by Queen’s Park Arena in support of Glasgow NW Foodbank and later for JD Twitch’s end-of-life care. Tony asked Isa to contribute guitar and backing vocals to his set, including a track then called Last Night I Had a Dream. That performance became the seed for their collaboration.

The first phase of fleshing it out, recalls Tony: “Somebody said Isa sang like Shania Twain. That got me thinking about country music and call and response, prompting me to come up with alternative lyrics.” Isa remembers: “I cycled over to Tony’s house with my guitar, and we spoke about what the tune meant. It was about him being wrapped up in dreamland, luxuriating in his subconscious, while my character — impatient and trapped in her own routines — barely had time to remember her own dreams.” Tony continues: “Brilliantly I realised that I could never collaborate with anyone in situ and so I sat in the garden for two hours watching my wife tend to plants. Every now and again I would creep up the stairs and put my ear to the door. I could hear Isa warbling away and so would resume my garden watch. After two hours I went back upstairs to see how she was getting on, only to find that she had written one of the greatest songs I’d ever heard. I still think that.” Tony adds: “My overwhelming sentiment about Wake Up Baby is pride. I can honestly say that I’m more proud of it than anything else I have done. It ticks a whole load of boxes. Isa’s singing in various Scottish modes is unique. The way her electric guitar adorns the dance beat makes it a rock song as well as a dance and a C&W song — truly multi-genre.”

The B-side of the 12” release, Syringe Moustache, is a surreal, darkly playful counterpart to Wake Up Baby. The track was inspired by a dream Tony had: “I was in a shopping mall, in a two-level shoe shop, and my attention was taken by a little girl with a syringe taped beneath her nose like a moustache. She went about her business trying on shoes, confident and wise beyond her years. In the dream, I imagined her as the daughter of cultured, intelligent parents determined to raise her independently. I was struck by my own feelings of inadequacy — I knew I could never have coped with such a contraption myself.” Isa’s take on the meaning of this song somewhat differs: “Tony sent me the tune over Instagram months before I met him, and I was spooked — as far as I knew, he didn’t know anything about me, but the story felt like it was written about me as a little girl, growing up around heroin addiction. The syringe beneath the girl’s nose became a symbol of the inescapable constraints of that environment, literally written on her face, yet something you just have to carry on through. On a buzz from the serendipity, I added a full instrumental backing to this most bizarre of works.”

The result is absurd, unsettling, and strangely empowering, staking out its own surreal, cinematic space. The 12” dance single is a format Tony had long wanted to explore — a tangible artefact to leave for family, a medium that celebrates the physicality of sound and the ritual of listening. It allowed the artists to maximise the format’s potential: a strong, multi-genre A-side, a surreal B-side, and remixes that expanded the record’s sonic world. Glasgow music staples Auntie Flo and 100% Positive Feedback were invited to reinterpret the tracks, bringing their distinctive touch — Auntie Flo transforming the A-side into a luscious, dancefloor-ready meditation, and 100% Positive Feedback twisting Syringe Moustache into absurd, playful shapes with false-start drops and over-the-top vocal editing.

The cover photograph, taken at the University Café by Harrison Reid, captures Isa and Tony embodying the characters they brought to life in the songs — a visual reflection of the record’s narrative and emotional stakes. The Café also holds personal significance: it’s where all of Isa’s meetings with Keith McIvor took place, where she first remembers visiting Glasgow as a child, and a place Tony fondly likes to go to drip egg yolk down his tie and watch the world go by. Together, the 12” format, the remixes, and the artwork create a cohesive, tactile experience, amplifying the duality, theatricality, and emotional breadth of the collaboration.

Repress!

Biosphere is the main recording name of Geir Jenssen (born 30 May 1962), a Norwegian musician who has released a notable catalogue of ambient electronic music. He is well known for his works on ambient techno and arctic themed pieces, his use of music loops, and peculiar samples from sci-fi sources. His 1997 album Substrata was voted by the users of the Hyperreal website in 2001 as the best all-time classic ambient album.



Cirque - originally released in 2000 - was Biosphere's first album for the UK label Touch. This new re-issue comes with a 6-track bonus album and new artwork.



Mojo (UK): Fourth full album from ambient pioneer. Coming to prominence with 1992's Microgravity - which along with the first couple of Aphex/Polygon Window CDs, defined the genre ambient - Geir Jenssen as Biosphere has made three of the '90s' best albums, culminating with last year's near beatless Substrata. The idea - as it always was thanks to Eno's On Land - is music as environment (reflecting, creating): working from his base in Tromso, Arctic Norway, Jenssen offers a polar, Apollonian exploration of the human psyche. Cirque is a perfectly constructed 47-minute sequence: cold clarity up against real depth of field, synth cycles dissolving into sudden moments of sonic revelation that sound like a waking dream - try the first 20 seconds of Black Lamb and Grey Falcon. (And if you think that's pretentious - your loss). Inspired by the story of a young American, Chris McCandless, who walked alone into the Alaskan wilderness and perished, Cirque balances the tightrope between warmth and unease, resolving into a moon melody that leaves you a peace. What a good record! Jon Savage.

Slowly yet firmly blooming into focus, An Unfinished Rose is the new album from Australian duo Troth.

This is their first since relocating to Hobart, Tasmania and their introduction to Night School Records. With a detailed web of past releases on labels A Colourful Storm, Mammas Mysteriska Jukebox, Knekelhuis and Bowman’s own Altered States Tapes imprint, An Unfinished Rose is the group’s most realised and composed work thus far. While still drawing on the improvisatory and DIY practices that informed Troth’s beginnings, it points to a new incarnation of the duo’s music; an intentional language emerging from the fog of obfuscation and mists of uncertainty.

Over these 9 meditations on change, acceptance, renewal and rebirth, An Unfinished Rose finds Amelia Besseny and Cooper Bowman peeling back some of the roughhewn architecture that defined their earlier releases to reveal a masterful - if auto-didactic - use of space and melody. Composition and improvisation compliment and feed each other throughout, with locked-loop earworms providing the springboard for lines of clarinet or synth melody, and the negative space between chord clusters giving ample room for Besseny’s most confident vocal performances to date. Shaving off a little of the defining dissonance and tape compression of old reveals Troth’s music in radiant daylight, humbly accepting of its place in the world while yearning for better, more sympathetic modes of living. Leaning more heavily on acoustic instrumentation and post-production processes than previously, the result is a transcendent body of work infused with an almost zen-like presence.

Troth’s music exists in the border between forming and becoming, its goal to project a kind of preternatural beauty, leaving interpretation open to the listener. Field recordings, happenstance and improvisation may provide seeds for the duo’s compositions, particularly on Side A, but there is a deft touch of songcraft on show. Loam Loom Leaf Litter opens An Unfinished Rose, directly referencing natural cycles of life, death and regeneration, before the blissed-out drum machine groove of Gold Plum continues a discussion concerning the totality of nature and one’s place in it. Besseny’s vocal, swelling like an ocean churn in duet with itself is adorned with synthesised harp and a revolving synth pattern, conjuring plumes of medieval smoke. Thistle’s rounded, bass-heavy drums, nodding to the vast echo of dub, is a relatively new terrain for Troth. It’s propulsive and thumping, pulsing with a meaning and symbolism consistent with Troth’s past work, referenced overtly in Bessey’s lyrics - “Say it too much and it loses its meaning…”. Similarly, the sprawling modern-classical suite, Tides Reflected In Her Eyes, is intentional in its lyrical themes while traversing new ground, revelling in layers of bowed cello and vocal intonations. Side B’s 4 tracks feel like Troth’s most thoroughly accessible and affecting music to date. Leaning into their own detoured version of Synth Pop, Cocoonist explores downtempoisms via a crunchy low frequency synth, and dream-like, fuzzy trip-hop modalities, not unlike Besseny and Bowman’s other group, Th Blisks. Following on, Myrtle Mystes is an open and searching DIY pop song, forged out of drum machine, bass guitar and cello. (An) Unfinished Rose’s title-track is a clear stand-out, built upon an evocative rhythm sample that appears to change emotional resonance with each undulating repetition. Its cascading waves of affect, interjected with a subtle breeze of synth, bowed instrumentation and soaring, densely-layered vocals.

An Unfinished Rose is enveloping, warm, forgiving. Difficult, yet retaining a unique beauty. Troth’s music aims to celebrate the duo;s shared experiences of being in the world, despite the complexity often surrounding us all. Theirs is a message of hope and perseverance, learning and patience.

Featuring: Coby Sey, Mica Levi and Mark Pell (Good Sad Happy Bad / Micachu & The Shapes)

‘Affectionately’ is the debut album by London based songwriter and musician Raisa K. With self produced instrumentals supporting Raisa’s signature vocal performance, the record delves into the intricate emotional cycles of relationships with heartfelt sincerity. Melodies appear simple and direct, while the themes explored present a great level of complexity. Whether about trust, kindness, doubt, frustration, annoyance, regret, honesty, insecurity, loneliness or friendship, each of the album’s twelve songs lie somewhere in between a diary and a letter.‘Affectionately’ is almost entirely produced on Raisa’s laptop and written in her home in London, as well as finding small pockets of time on trains and buses, during breaks at work, during the kids' nap-times, at the playground, in the park. The production's backbone is formed by a synthesiser sample, weaving together a range of recordings and sonic textures.

This creates a consistent expression where diverse electronic styles merge with Raisa's crisp, candid vocals in unique and personal songwriting. Some listeners might recognise Raisa’s voice and musical language from records by the band Good Sad Happy Bad, which she is a part of. While ‘Affectionately’ certainly moves in its own space, a kinship with fellow London artists is also present, as the record includes a feature with Coby Sey as well as instrumental contributions from long-time collaborators Marc Pell and Mica Levi.

Ruby Red - Transparent - Galaxy effect vinyl in dub style jacket (jacket sleeve with center hole cut out so label of LP shows through) a black paper inner sleeve and poly bag.

PART ONE’ METAL HAMMER - 8/10 review. FOR FANS OF : Lustmord, Om, Sunn O))) . “An exercise in freeform ambience, ritualistic repetition and the rapturous, womb-like power of bass…strange and affecting. We remain lucky to share in the great man’s vision.”


At its heart, music has always been a questioning of inheritance – a dialogue with predecessors and forebears, the forging of one’s own perspective in relation to what has come before, and for some, a plunge into the boundless realms between. For Steve Von Till, that process has always taken on an added dimension to become the most sacred of tasks. Whether through the apocalyptic uprising of Neurosis, the sonic deconstructions of their sister project, Tribes of Neurot, the invocatory intimacy of his eponymous solo albums or his instrumental psychedelic reveries in the guise of Harvestman, that dialogue has never just been with musical influences, but with what underpins them: the primordial, elemental forces now banished to the peripheries of our contemporary consciousness, yet still broadcasting a signal for all who will listen.
Drawn to the megaliths, ruins and ancient sites mapped out along the British and European mainland’s geographical and psychic landscapes, the folklore and apocrypha forever resurfacing as portals from a rational world, “Triptych” is a meditation forged from traces and residues, and an hallucinatory recollection of artists who have tapped into that enduring otherworldliness embedded within us all. It’s a dream diary narrating a passage through Summer Isle where Flying Saucer Attack are wafting out of a window, a distant Fairport Convention are being remixed by dub master Adrian Sherwood, celestial scanners Tangerine Dream are trying to drown out Bert Jansch and Hawkwind are playing Steeleye Span covers, all prised out of time yet bound to its singularity.
Woven together from home studio recordings that span two decades, this latest outing as Harvestman finds parallels with nature’s cycles not just in its release dates but in the repeated structure that binds each album, like an imprint refracted through three separate strata. As with April’s “Part One” and the forthcoming “Part Three”, “Part Two”, starts on a collaboration with Om bassist and long-term friend of Steve’s, Al Cisneros, with a dub take opening the B-Side. Here, the opening track, “The Hag Of Beara Vs The Poet”’s languid, tribal groove expands into a chromatic wash, like an endless drip of oil spreading out under a midsummer haze.
A filtering of the alpha-state travelogues of its predecessor, “Part Two” reaches even deeper into primal yet pristine states. It journeys from the undulating drone and slow-thawing wonder of “The Falconer”, as if the Myst soundtrack were being broadcast from outer space, through “Damascus”’s perpetual-motion, dreamtime bazaar and “Vapour Phase”s seismograph frequencies measuring supernatural tremors to “The Unjust Incarceration”s distorted bagpipes, sounding a noise-frayed lament
If “Triptych” is a multi- and extra-sensory experience, it extends to the remarkable glyph-style artwork of Henry Hablak, a map of correspondences from a long-forgotten ancient and advanced civilization. As with “Triptych” itself, it’s an echo from another time, an act of binding, a guide to be endlessly reinterpreted, and a signpost to the sacred that might not indicate where to look, but how.

At its best, Bristol's scene has been marked out by the artists with an independent spirit. Not just the self-reliant DIY approach to getting the music out there, but a unique, inventive slant on emergent sounds which feed into the city's storied reputation. Flynn & Flora embody that idea, having come up in the nascent Bristol jungle scene while offering something wholly different to their peers in fabled crews like Full Cycle and More Rockers.

The duo were absolutely connected to the wider community, but they followed their own path, and the records reflect that. They're not as widely name checked as the likes of Roni Size, Krust, or Smith & Mighty, but their legacy is just as rich with personality and flair, offering that indefinable twist which sets West Country rhythms apart from the sounds in London or elsewhere. City Road wanted to recognise that fact with a modest 12" which cherry picks four crucial early cuts from Flynn & Flora's archives, before they went on to produce three LPs and a series of 12"s up to the mid 00s.

"We knew as much as anyone else at that particular time," recalls Flynn. "Samples, hip-hop breaks, bass lines. You've got your synth, your drum machine. It's all you needed. So that's what we did."

David Byrne & Fatboy Slim’s acclaimed 2010 album Here Lies Love receives its first-ever vinyl release to coincide with a new production opening on Broadway this summer. Here Lies Love is a double-disc song cycle – improbably poignant, decidedly surreal, surprisingly thought provoking – about the rise and fall of the Philippines' notorious Imelda Marcos. It was conceived by David Byrne; composed by Byrne and DJ/recording artist Fatboy Slim, AKA Norman Cook; and performed by a dream cast drawn from the worlds of indie rock, alt country, R&B and pop. Byrne's taste in collaborators is as imaginative as it is impeccable, including Cyndi Lauper (who recounts, to lighthearted disco beats, Imelda's courtship with Ferdinand Marcos), Steve Earle (as the power-hungry Ferdinand), Dap-Kings vocalist Sharon Jones (recalling Imelda's introduction into New York society) and Natalie Merchant (as spurned Imelda confidante Estrella, anticipating the onset of martial law). Along with vocals turns from such stars as Tori Amos and the B-52's Kate Pierson, Byrne works with rising indie rockers St. Vincent and My Brightest Diamond; New York chanteuses Nellie McKay and Martha Wainwright; and dance-music divas Róisín Murphy and Santigold. Byrne himself appears as the voice of imperialistic America on ‘American Troglodyte’, a send-up that wouldn't have seemed out of places in Talking Heads' True Stories.



Byrne originally envisioned this as a musical theatre piece, to be mounted in disco and nightclub settings, reflecting the globe-trotting Marcos' taste for such velvet-roped spots as Studio 54 and Regine's. In 2006, he performed work-in-progress versions to enthusiastic audiences at New York City's Carnegie Hall and the Adelaide Festival in Australia. While plans for a US theatrical production continued to evolve, he delivered this unique recording. The award-winning theatrical production eventually premiered at The Public Theater in New York in 2013, travelled to London’s National Theater for a sold-out run (2014–15), and was remounted at the Seattle Repertory Theater (2017).



Here Lies Love has an effervescent disco feel, redolent of Fatboy Slim's own dance-floor anthems, with warm undercurrents of the Latin rhythms that have percolated through Byrne's recent solo work. The sunny arrangements act in counterpoint to the reality of the Marcos' increasingly repressive regime, reflecting the imagined inner life of the glamour-obsessed Imelda. Explains Byrne, "For me, the darker side of the excesses are, for the most part, a matter of record. A lot of the audience is going to come with that knowledge already. What's more of a challenge is to get inside the head of the person who was behind all of that, and understand what made them tick." Byrne offers no judgment and avoids the obvious – there is no mention of Imelda's infamous shoe collection.



Many of Byrne's lyrics are, astonishingly enough, constructed from actual Imelda quotes, including the project's title, the words that Imelda, now returned to the Philippines from US-assisted exile in Hawaii, would like to have inscribed on her gravestone. In addition to his new liner note, Byrne illustrates the story with archival photos. In a detailed preface, he reveals what drew him to this subject and the bumpy route he took to launch the project and, ultimately, record this album. The booklet is indeed a page-turner, just as Here Lies Love is a wonderfully old-school album that rewards start-to-finish listening. Once again, Byrne – beloved as musician, thinker and bicyclist-about-town – reveals the breadth and singularity of his vision.



The new production of Here Lies Love will premiere at the Broadway Theatre in New York City. Performances begin June 17, ahead of an official opening night on July 20. Tony Award winner Alex Timbers (direction) and Olivier Award nominee Annie-B Parson (choreography) reunite with Byrne (concept, music, and lyrics) and Fatboy Slim (music) to bring Here Lies Love to Broadway, continuing a ten-plus year collaboration on the project. Tom Gandey and J Pardo contribute additional music. Here Lies Love is produced on Broadway by Hal Luftig, Patrick Catullo, Diana DiMenna for Plate Spinner Productions, Clint Ramos, and Jose Antonio Vargas. The staging at the Broadway Theatre will transform the venue’s traditional proscenium floor space into a dance club environment, where audiences will stand and move with the actors. A wide variety of standing and seating options will be available throughout the theatre’s reconstructed space. The producers of Here Lies Love said, “As a team of binational American producers – Filipinos among us – we are thrilled to bring Here Lies Love to Broadway! We welcome everyone to experience this singularly exuberant piece of theatre. The history of the Philippines is inseparable from the history of the United States, and as both evolve, we cannot think of a more appropriate time to stage this show. See you on the dance floor!”



David Byrne’s recent works include the launch of Reasons to be Cheerful, an online magazine focused on solutions-oriented stories about problems being solved all over the world (2019); Joan of Arc: Into the Fire, a theatrical exploration of the historical heroine that premiered at the Public Theater in New York (2017); The Institute Presents: NEUROSOCIETY, a series of interactive environments created in conjunction with PACE Arts + Technology that question human perception and bias (2016); Contemporary Color, an event inspired by the American folk tradition of color guard and performed at Brooklyn’s Barclays Center and Toronto’s Air Canada Centre (2015); Here Lies Love; Love This Giant, a studio album and worldwide tour created with St. Vincent (2012); and How Music Works, a book about the history, experience, and social aspects of music (2012).



Byrne curated Southbank Centre’s annual Meltdown festival in London in 2015. A co-founder of the group Talking Heads (1976–88), he has released eight studio albums as a solo artist and worked on multiple other projects, including collaborations with Brian Eno, Twyla Tharp, Robert Wilson, and Jonathan Demme, among others. He also founded the highly respected record label Luaka Bop. Recognition of Byrne’s various works include Obies, Drama Desk, Lortel, and Evening Standard awards for Here Lies Love; an Oscar, Grammy, and Golden Globe for the soundtrack to Bernardo Bertolucci’s The Last Emperor; and induction into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame with Talking Heads. Byrne’s work as a visual artist has been published and exhibited since his college days, including photography, filmmaking, and writing. He lives in New York City. In addition to 2019’s cast album for American Utopia on Broadway, Nonesuch has released eight other David Byrne records since 2003, including 2018’s American Utopia studio album and two versions of his musical Here Lies Love.



















q C6. Please Don't feat. Santi White Santigold

Oceanine, Jolanda Moletta’s third album and her first for Beacon Sound, is a powerful and ethereal statement of artistic community. Expanding on her previous work, each track represents a collaboration with a different female vocalist, with the foundational elements being generated entirely by her own voice. By turns haunting, enchanting, and inspiring, you won’t want to come up for air once you’ve been pulled under. Representing a
musical practice that is distinctly feminist, this is an album with a longer view in mind, to an age when the altars were to goddesses and women were centered as powerful beings representing the earth’s cycles of regeneration and renewal. Oceanine then, in all its beauty, can be viewed as an album of survival. It is deeply transportive, accessing something that lies within all of us. As the late, great Lithuanian folklorist and archaeologist Marija Gimbutas noted, “We must refocus our collective memory. The necessity for this has never been greater as we discover that the path of 'progress' is extinguishing the very conditions for life on earth.”

Jolanda Moletta is a multimedia artist and one-woman electronic choir. She creates wordless compositions through extended vocal techniques, integrating wearable-controlled live processing, alongside symbolic visuals. Moletta considers her performances to be a collective ritual and creates her Sonic & Visual Spells following the cycles of nature and the moon. Jolanda's 2022 critically acclaimed album Nine Spells was released on the Ambientologist label, followed by Night Caves on Whitelabrecs in 2025. Moletta’s artistic practice is a radical and spiritual journey through sound art, ritual, and the symbolic archaeology of the feminine.

Oceanine is inspired by sirens, water nymphs, and the timeless call of the sea. At its core lies Jolanda’s deep, lifelong connection to the Mediterranean Sea and to the ancient and modern myths and folklore that have emerged from its waters. Growing up by the Mar Ligure, Jolanda was surrounded by stories carried by salt, wind, and waves: legends of sirens, echoes of ancient voices, and the sea as both origin and oracle. This intimate relationship with the Mediterranean is not merely a backdrop, but a living source that shapes Oceanine’s emotional, symbolic, and sonic world.

Each track features a different female vocalist, creating a rich tapestry of voices, styles, and perspectives. This artistic choice not only broadens the album’s sonic palette, but also deepens its narrative core: celebrating the power, beauty, and mystique of feminine energy through myth, history, and sound.

The entire album is built exclusively from the human voice, processed and layered, yet always remaining voice, and nothing else. For each piece, Jolanda invited every vocalist involved to contribute a raw stem: a short, unedited melodic fragment of just a few seconds, inspired by the album’s themes. These intimate vocal seeds became the foundation of each track: the guest artists’ voices appear as brief, melodic stems, while the entire surrounding “orchestral” fabric is created solely from Jolanda’s own layered and processed voice. In this way, Jolanda’s voice becomes the Ocean itself, embracing, absorbing, and carrying the sirens’ calls within a vast, immersive soundscape. Every song is a unique expression of the feminine experience, revealing its depth, complexity, and emotional range, echoing the call of the sea and the many faces of the siren archetype.

The figure of the siren has transformed across centuries. In myths of Ancient Greece and Rome, sirens were hybrid beings, part woman, part bird, whose irresistible songs lured sailors to their doom. During the Middle Ages, the image shifted toward the half-woman, half-fish figure, often associated with temptation and danger. Historically, the voice of women has often been feared. Sirens were considered harbingers of misfortune not simply because they seduced or destroyed, but because they were powerful liminal beings.

In Ancient Greek, sirens functioned as psychopomps: figures who existed between worlds and guided souls, especially between life and death. Their songs were believed to carry forbidden knowledge, including prophetic insight and the ability to reveal truths about fate and the future. The danger of the sirens lay in what they revealed: knowledge that humans were not meant, or ready, to hear.

Oceanine confronts this legacy head-on. The voices heard throughout the album are not merely beautiful: they are dark and luminous, wild and enchanting, magical, soothing, dreamy, and at times fractured or distorted. They whisper, lament, beckon, and enchant. Like sirens, they skim the surface of the water and sink into its depths, hovering on the edge between tenderness and danger, vulnerability and power. They rise toward the sky, dissolve into mist, and return as echoes charged with raw, elemental emotion: voices that seduce, warn, mourn, and remember. They refuse to be reduced to decoration.

Alongside the album’s release in May, Oceanine will also unfold as a visual and performative work through a short art film. The film includes a live session recorded inside a sea cave facing the Mar Ligure, the very coastline where Jolanda spent her childhood, dreaming of sirens and listening to the sea as if it were speaking directly to her. This site-specific performance reconnects the music to its place of origin, allowing the voice to resonate within stone, water, and air, and transforming the cave into both a sanctuary and a threshold between myth and reality.

What if the sirens’ songs were considered dangerous because they carried another truth, an ancient truth long forgotten?

Oceanine embraces the idea that we are still deeply woven into myth. Though we may see ourselves as rational and modern beings, our world is saturated with ancient symbols and archetypes, often distorted, simplified, or stripped of their original meaning. And if those symbols are allowed to shift, if the mirror once held by the siren becomes an invitation to look beyond appearances and into what has been obscured, then we may finally uncover a deeper truth and reclaim the voice that was always ours.

Oceanine is not just an album. It is a reclamation, a spell, and a call from the depths.

For the first time, this landmark album of ritualistic dark folk and shamanic soundscapes is pressed into Double LP, and the result is a breathtaking artifact that transcends the boundary between music and mysticism. Presented in a deluxe edition LP with a lavish 30x30 insert, brought to life by Rune Serpent Europa, this release is a kind of talisman. The packaging itself feels like a gateway: ornate, otherworldly, and perfectly attuned to the spirit of Havamal , where Nordic tradition, animistic ritual, and primal sound converge in a timeless invocation. Spinning Havamal on vinyl unleashes the full incantatory power of NYTT LAND 's music. The analog warmth deepens the resonance of the throat-sung mantras and the droning instrumentation, pulling the listener into a world that is equal parts ancient ritual, frozen landscape, and whispered prophecy.

Every track becomes a rune carved in sound, vibrating with hidden meaning, echoing the eternal cycles of life, death, and rebirth. There is a romance in this edition that goes beyond mere presentation. The act of lowering the needle becomes an invocation, a summoning of ancestral voices and forgotten gods. The record itself feels alive, as though the spirits of the sagas reside within its grooves. Each listen is a ritual, each flip of the vinyl a turning of the cosmic wheel. With Havamal now available on LP, collectors and devotees of dark folk finally hold in their hands a relic worthy of the album's mythic aura. This is music to be inhabited, to be carried into dreams and into shadows, to be used as a key that unlocks the hidden chambers of the soul. A triumph of art, craft, and spirit, this vinyl edition is destined to become a coveted treasure.

DOODSESKADER clearly haven’t had enough of redefining boundaries – they’ve only just gotten started. Tim De Gieter and Sigfried Burroughs return on April 3rd, 2026 with their third full-length album, The Change Is Me, a rollercoaster that can only be described as the unstable lovechild between witch house, hip-hop, industrial dream pop, and stadium rock that can’t decide if it wants to watch the world burn or shout from the rooftops that we need to save it. Their combination of grungy 90s melodies with distorted synths, sludgy bass, hard tuned vocals, rapping, singing, and explosions of undiluted rage at the current state of the world leave you wondering just exactly what it was you smoked last night, and if it was too much or not enough. The Change Is Me is an album that grabs you by the arm and asks if you’re ready to go on a grand adventure, then pulls you into its chaos before you can say “yes” or “no.”

Tim and Sigfried aren’t just breaking the boundaries between genres; they’re breaking out of their own Year cycle, a path they had laid out for themselves at the band’s inception in 2020. Up until now, the duo had set out to document their “journey to getting better” through writing one album each year: Year Zero (2020), Year One (2022), and most recently Year Two (2024). After spending eight months throughout 2024 and 2025 writing, recording, producing and mixing Year Three, the band scrapped the finished record entirely. Playing shows while simultaneously navigating the process of mixing Year Three created a sort of disconnect – the people that they were when they wrote that record and the people that playing shows made them become were no longer one and the same. “We’re people with faults and strengths, and we realized we needed to accept it. That’s equal parts bleak and liberating. If you’re so focused on self-improvement, you can’t even applaud yourself for how far you’ve come,” the band explains. “This project is meant to be a document of us and of the human condition, not a self-improvement handbook designed to keep us all stuck on what may or may not have happened to us or because of us in the past.”

DOODSESKADER chose instead to embark anew on a week-long creative journey in Tim’s own Much Luv Studio with one goal in mind: to make an album that captures who they are right now. Finally writing everything together in the same room for the first time in years, the process of bringing "The Change Is Me" to life was captured by Diana Lungu in their latest documentary, "Now I Know You See Me", out December 2nd, 2025.

"The Change Is Me" marks the beginning of DOODSESKADER’s shift into a more positive era, both musically and conceptually. Over the course of the 40-minute record we hear the two friends unite in a fight against a world that grows more and more disappointing, a concept made crystal clear in tracks like “Celebrity Culture Simp Farm,” “It Keeps On Stinging,” and of course the album’s epic closer “Suffering In Technicolor.” While their previous albums saw them trying to outrun their pasts and arrive at a better version of themselves, here the search for some external or internal revelation that will “make them better” is no more. It’s been replaced by the realization that change isn’t something we force: it’s gradual, and more importantly, it’s something that’s already there – we just need to reach out and accept it.

The band’s live appearances over the last several years have been instrumental in shaping their ideology. On stage is where the duo find connection; not only with the audience, but also with each other. Their sold-out release shows at Ancienne Belgique (2022) and VierNulVier (2024) have proven that they are one of Belgium’s must-see acts. Abroad, their energy has translated into a month-long EU/UK tour with French band Alcest in 2024, as well as appearances at festivals such as Roadburn Festival (NL), Eurosonic (NL), Hellfest (FR), Mystic Fest (PL), Jera On Air (NL), ArcTanGent (UK), Fluff Fest (CZ) and more.

"The Change Is Me" is out April 3rd, 2026 on DOODSESKADER’s own label, 45 Records.

Limited Green LP is for Indies only. all LPs include a DL card. Island Family is the fifth album from Isle-of-Eigg dwelling electro-acoustic psych-pop wonder Pictish Trail, AKA Johnny Lynch. A strange, unpredictable, sardonic and yet deeply personal record inspired by all from Fever Ray to The Flaming Lips, Liars, Mercury Rev and Beck, Island Family is Pictish Trail's contrarian view of arcadia; a search for the euphoric in the bucolic, bound up in sometimes conflicting ideas and feelings around nature and environment, sincerity and artifice, escapism and belonging. It's an album about how no man can remain an island, however hard he might try. Released by Fire Records, with support from Johnny's own label Lost Map, and produced by long-term collaborator Rob Jones (The Voluntary Butler Scheme, The Gene Dudley Group), 'Island Family' opens with its title track, a song of death, ghosts and the ties that bind, fusing abrasive electronic beats with a tongue-in-cheek fireside folk refrain and the haunted ice cream van melody of a digitally reincarnated traditional Scottish jig. A purgative surrender to nature's whim driven by a clattering machine drumbeat rolled in a puddle of filthy dirty fuzz, 'Natural Successor' is five-and-a-half-minutes of cathartic churning bass. 'In The Land of The Dead' is an eight-bit glitch-core reflection on island party excesses spasming into existential dread and regret, suitably accompanied by a funereal mariachi band. It's followed by the epic 'It Came Back', the understated verses and arms-aloft falsetto chorus of which are accompanied by a tense, foreboding bass-driven electro hip hop instrumental with (spoiler) a brain-shattering industrial-metal meltdown. 'Melody Something' is the album's purest moment, a cautiously uplifting solar-powered-ballad about losing track of time in the cycle of the seasons, and the gap between memory and reality. Shapeshifting closer 'Remote Control' is a channel hopping cabin-fever-dream flipping from warped boyband ballad to deep-fried fuzz pop. "One of my favourite artists" Lauren Laverne, BBC 6 Music

Matryoshka has already built a reputation as a producer for DJ Loser's Magdalena's Apathy imprint as well as work for the Nostalgians, an under-the-radar ambient rap collective featuring Yungwebster, Mdb, tnotsobad, Nopaprr and ogpra1. Her musical roots – dubstep, trance and hard dance – tell some of the story here, but she transmogrifies those influences into haunted, Basinski-esque memories like the gaseous traces and decelerated remnants of the club.

On album opener »Lifelover«, Burial's hazed interludes spring to mind, or perhaps the 4am cityscapes of Space Afrika's now mythical »Somewhere Decent to Live«. Background ambiance simmers below Lawson's pensive FM pads, but once she establishes the mood, things take an unexpected turn with a pitch-bent bassline that might have been lifted straight from a 6LACK loosie, and a rhythmic pulse that traces the thin red line of Shinichi Atobe. If it's dub techno, it's a strand that hasn't been codified quite yet.

»Surface Tension« uses deep, Maybach Music-coded bass womps to twist through her skittering slow rhythms and sadcore pads. But it’s Matryoshka’s harmonic instinct that stands out; if you heard the airy »otr« or »fantasize« from Yungwebster's '»II' you'll know exactly what we mean«, and she takes it even further here, weaving cinematic, languid harmonies that bridge the gap between Steve Roach and Future.

Check »Where the Dancers are Spinning« with its levitational, almost orchestral sweeps that Lawson counterbalances with thudding subs, or the brief title track, an Akira Yamaoka-style save room loop that dissipates into a dreamy, dissociated fog, for further proof. Then there's the second side's centrepiece »Parted by the Sea«, where a ratcheting Chain Reaction-style rhythm builds to a tense crescendo only to get splintered unrecognisably in the second half, its broken pieces pillowed by Lawson's billowing time-stretched chords.

Between The Seed And The Timber is a cycle of six songs exploring ritual and mystical aspects of the modern era. At times both noir and psychedelic, they evoke a strong sense of nostalgia for a disappearing age. In contrast to industrial music’s dystopian semiotics, Jas Shaw challenges us to hear sounds inspired by machinery, electricity and mechanisation in a new light.

“I made the synth parts for a Swans gig,” says Shaw. “As SMD we’d supported Swans. James was away doing some production but I didn’t want to pass it up, so I offered to open solo. It turned out the gig was sooner than expected so I made all these synth things to do live.”

Shaw put the tracks to one side and forgot about them, only returning to them years later. “You know when you’ve changed as a person and you listen back to something from a different angle? I suddenly could hear what I had been after. It reminded me of experiences I’d had at Swans gigs. I wanted to achieve that energy and charge.”

Dubbing techniques are crucial to the sound of the record. “I set up a few synths on a table and had my mixer running loads of auxes back into the desk so it was all on the edge of feeding back. Then I realised that if I put a mic into the desk I’d have an extra feedback route. I found a setting where I could get it to build when I pointed the mic at the monitors but then turning it away you could put the brakes on the regen.”

Between The Seed And The Timber is Jas Shaw’s inaugural release for the London based, Kindred-affiliated TEETH label. TEETH is rooted in a reverence for texture, space, and sonic decay - amplifying experimental sounds that blend dreamlike melodies with weathered landscapes. Each release informs the next, with every track as vital as the last to complete the whole set.

Orchestrated by Jojo Mathiszig-Lee, founder of London’s Kindred, the label celebrates like-minded talent from the community, providing a platform for transgressing music.

Artworks are made by Scarlet Griffiths.

Ecstatic’s dreamiest cadets bliss out on a new album of acoustic and electric guitar, harmonium and synth tapestries, notably nestling a Romance cameo within a genteel toggle of atmospheric pressure.

Back on (side) road after releasing quietly acclaimed kosmische gem ‘I Had too Much to Dream Last Night’ back in 2021 and the lysergic lushness of ‘Listen to the Sky’ a couple of years later, Celestial suggest a more sublime return to earth with the shine-eyed wonders of ‘I Can Hear the Grass Grow’, an album that soothes to the supine in eight shimmering parts of pearlescent melodic motifs marbling harmonious backdrops intended to tenderly comb nerves straight.

The duo take their role as seductive sandmen with a curious melodic wit that leaves something to the imagination whilst nudging it along the album’s narrative thread. A courtly flamenco lick flickers in opener ‘The Endless Stair’, one of the most restrained recordings we've heard from the childhood friends; blessed with just a little reverb and echo, as if a mic's been lowered into some dimly lit basement while Celestial puzzle out mystifying, interlocking harmonies. It hits a mid-point between John Fahey's raga-inspired Americana and Vini Reilly's rain-soaked Northern blues - the emotion throbs from every note.

Celestial's music is never too polished, giving it the fuzzy, uninhibited flair of a long-lost mail order private press and instilling it with a level of humanity that's rare to discover in the new-new age. Even when mysterious labelmate Romance turns up to ornament 'Mermaid Boulevard' with backmasked electronics, it's their low-slung Ry Cooder-esque guitar/bass that provides the narrative anchor, while the title track and spongiform analog textures of ‘Song For The rainy Season’ dial it right down to a Harmonia-via-BoC pastoral sublime. Vini Reilly and Eno’s influence is most surely felt on the swaying elegance of ‘Sweet Sleep, Angel Mild’, with a central motif that lingers on the mind long after it’s stopped playing, whilst their closing couplet perfectly resolves the cycle with a melancholic kiss-off for the ages.

Every so often an album of such deceptive genius, of such aesthetic clarity, comes across our desk and transfixes us. Thought Leadership's III Of Pentacles is one such work of art. It's an instant classic and glides into the pantheon of timeless guitar-soul totems. Originally out on cassette only, we present the first ever vinyl issue. It's a hideously limited pressing of 300 for the world, so don't sleep on this.

Thought Leadership has already garnered big support from such tastemakers as Ruf Dug, Jason Boardman, Nathan Gregory Wilkins, J Walk, Evan Woodward, Justin Robertson and Heavenly's Jeff Barrett. The first time we heard III Of Pentacles, we nearly wept at the thought that something so beautiful, so bursting with real hope, could even exist in this brutal world. To quote the Quietus, "imagine if Stockport was situated somewhere along the Pacific Coast Highway rather than the M60, and you’ll have some idea of the coordinates to the post-industrial, sunburnt dream space opened up here."

So, who is Thought Leadership? What do we know about them? They reside in Stockport and are obsessed with ethereal guitar records. That’s about it. That and these X ideas shared with you, the listener.

Captured on a multitrack recorder in a terraced house in Stockport, this is as DIY as it gets. Glaringly obvious is a love for classic Factory and early 4AD. Perhaps it is the proximity to the River Mersey where the ideas arrived, and there being but three miles between where this and the Durutti Column’s classic “LC” was recorded, as the two operate across a familiar aural plain. Be it geographic or otherwise, limited by a true economy of means, namely guitar, pedals and drum machine, the fruit borne from these humble tools has been indelibly shaped by the perma-gloom that hangs low over the Manchester and Stockport environs.

Ushered in on 808 kicks, “I” opens the record as a beautiful Sketch for Stockport; a chiming maj7 chord dripping in chorus and delay sets us on our way. The Vini Reilly comparisons are unavoidable. “II” is all John McGeoch, with its trippy goth-psyche arpeggiated pattern cascading across the stereo image. Do those drums swing? But goths don’t swing?! They do here. We’re treated to a bit of crunch on the lead guitar part and some really lush reverb. We even step forth into shoegaze territory, albeit briefly, for the middle eight. “III”, a firm Be With favourite, continues the dreamy psyche leanings of the previous track, with an even bigger melody this time. We’re hearing The Teardrop Explodes on quaaludes here. A proto-dream pop cut soaked in melancholy. But watch out! The coda finds Johnny Marr has gotten into the ‘ludes and gatecrashed the final bars with some incredibly ignorant B minor pentatonic noodling.

“IV” ditches the drum machine for the first in a suite of three beatless electric guitar duets. The first of these semi-improvised rubato ideas is a striking departure from the earlier playful pieces, coming over emo and moody. Greyscale sulking for Stratocaster. Sign us up. “V” contains some really lyrical phrasing; a gorgeous conversation between two guitars. Real Stopfordian Primitive; meditative, crude, rain-soaked. We cycle through the same feels, then end on an alluring chord that breaks the pattern. Sometimes thoughts are like this. “VI” creeps in all plaintive, then a huge reverberating descending guitar line comes tumbling in like something off those classic Dif Juz 12”s. There’s some Maurice Deebank in there too, for sure, and the coda nods to early Meat Puppets.

“VII” rounds out the A Side, and succinctly presents a summary of all ideas explored thus far on our journey. The drum machine is back, this time with some wispy delay, before both guitars enter together playing interlocking lines. As we start, we end, with the delayed 808 guiding us out.

Opening Side B, “VIII” sees us embark on the other side of our journey as we slow down and space out. The drum machine is here, but the guitars are different now. Think Sensations Fix or Göttsching at his most peeled out. Drones, ambient drifts of broken chords and distorted lead lines all swirl round the mix. Side B is one for headphones for sure. “IX” is almost too exquisite for words. A New Age Mixolydian voyage through the cosmos. If you’re unmoved by the end you’ve probably got no pulse. We were left blunted ineffable by this one, such is the smudged elegance radiating from this idea. All hail the Thought Leader.

“X” is a full circle moment, and a fitting end. If you’ve not already elsewhere across the platter, you will be getting heavy Robin Guthrie vibes from this piece. Like the rest of Side B, this improvised jam sticks within a framework of related chords but the celestial energies channelled might invite us to wander “outside”, especially when the Tubescreamer is engaged.

RIYL Durutti Coulmn, Cocteau Twins, Dif Juz, Sensations Fix, Spike and adjacent guitar musicks – but, ultimately, this is just its own thing; such is the strength of ideas presented. "It’s good music to chill out to." (??)

Be With is honoured to present the first ever vinyl release of III Of Pentacles, carefully remastered by Be With's engineer Simon Francisco to ensure it sounds better than ever after its initial tape release. Cicely Balston's expert skills have made sure nothing is lost in the cut whilst the records have been pressed to the highest possible standard at Record Industry, in Holland. The original tape cover artwork, so crucial to Thought Leadership's striking visual aesthetic, has been rejigged for vinyl issue here at Be With. Its stark presentation befits the music contained within. They inform us that they shuffled their tarot deck to ask what the album should be called and the card you see on the cover popped out. The III Of Pentacles tarot card represents teamwork, shared vision and the ability to achieve goals through collaboration. We like to think Thought Leadership and Be With have nailed this one.

Googling “paradise house”, the first results to pop up are an endless list of European b&b’s with whitewashed lime façades, all of them promising “…an unmatched travel experience a few steps from the sea”. Next, a little further down, are the institutional websites of a few select semi-luxury retirement homes (no photos shown, but lots of stock images of smiling nurses with reassuring looks). To find the “paradise house” we’re after, we have to scroll even further down. Much further down.

It feels like yesterday, and at the same time it seems like a million years ago. The Eighties had just ended, and it was still unclear what to expect from the Nineties. Mobile phones that were not the size of a briefcase and did not cost as much as a car? A frightening economic crisis? The guitar-rock revival?! Certainly, the best place to observe that moment of transition was the dancefloor. Truly epochal transformations were happening there. From America, within a short distance one from the other, two revolutionary new musical styles had arrived: the first one sounded a bit like an “on a budget” version of the best Seventies disco-music – Philly sound made with a set of piano-bar keyboards! – the other was even more sparse, futuristic and extraterrestrial. It was a music with a quite distinct “physical” component, which at the same time, to be fully grasped, seemed to call for the knotty theories of certain French post-modern philosophers: Gilles Deleuze, Félix Guattari, Paul Virilio... Both those genres – we would learn shortly after – were born in the black communities of Chicago and Detroit, although listening to those vinyl 12” (often wrapped in generic white covers, and with little indication in the label) you could not easily guess whether behind them there was a black boy from somewhere in the Usa, or a girl from Berlin, or a pale kid from a Cornish coastal town.

Quickly, similar sounds began to show up from all corners of Europe. A thousand variations of the same intuition: leaner, less lean, happier, slightly less intoxicated, more broken, slower, faster, much faster... Boom! From the dancefloors – the London ones at least, whose chronicles we eagerly read every month in the pages of The Face and i-D – came tales of a new generation of clubbers who had completely stopped “dressing up” to go dancing; of hot tempered hooligans bursting into tears and hugging everyone under the strobe lights as the notes of Strings of Life rose up through the fumes of dry ice (certain “smiling” pills were also involved, sure). At this point, however, we must move on to Switzerland.

In Switzerland, in the quiet and diligent town of Lugano, between the 1980s and 1990s there was a club called “Morandi”. Its hot night was on Wednesdays, when the audience also came from Milan, Como, Varese and Zurich. Legend goes that, one night, none less than Prince and Sheila E were spotted hiding among the sofas, on a day-off of the Italian dates of the Nude Tour… The Wednesday resident and superstar was an Italian dj with an exotic name: Don Carlos. The soundtrack he devised was a mixture of Chicago, Detroit, the most progressive R&B and certain forgotten classics of old disco music: practically, what the Paradise Garage in New York might have sounded like had it not closed in 1987. In between, Don Carlos also managed to squeeze in some tracks he had worked on in his studio on Lago Maggiore. One in particular: a track that was rather slow compared to the BPM in fashion at the time, but which was a perfect bridge between house and R&B. The title was Alone: Don Carlos would explain years later that it had to be intended both in the English meaning of “by itself” and like the Italian word meaning “halo”. That wasn’t the only double entendre about the song, anyway. Its own very deep nature was, indeed, double. On the one hand, Alone was built around an angelic keyboard pattern and a romantic piano riff that took you straight to heaven; on the other, it showcased enough electronic squelches (plus a sax part that sounded like it had been dissolved by acid rain) to pigeonhole the tune into the “junk modernity” section, aka the hallmark of all the most innovative sounds of the time: music that sounded like it was hand-crafted from the scraps of glittering overground pop.

No one knows who was the first to call it “paradise house”, nor when it happened. Alternative definitions on the same topic one happened to hear included “ambient house”, “dream house”, “Mediterranean progressive”… but of course none were as good (and alluring) as “paradise house”. What is certain is that such inclination for sounds that were in equal measure angelic and neurotic, romantic and unaffective, quickly became the trademark of the second generation of Italian house. Music that seemed shyly equidistant from all the rhythmic and electronic revolutions that had happened up to that moment (“Music perfectly adept at going nowhere slowly” as noted by English journalist Craig McLean in a legendary field report for Blah Blah Blah magazine). Music that to a inattentive ear might have sounded as anonymous as a snapshot of a random group of passers-by at 10AM in the centre of any major city, but perfectly described the (slow) awakening in the real world after the universal love binge of the so-called Second Summer of Love.

For a brief but unforgettable season, in Italy “paradise house” was the official soundtrack of interminable weekends spent inside the car, darting from one club to another, cutting the peninsula from North to centre, from East to West coast in pursuit of the latest after-hours disco, trading kilometres per hour with beats per minute: practically, a new New Year’s Eve every Friday and Saturday night. This too was no small transformation, as well as a shock for an adult Italy that was encountering for the first time – thanks to its sons and daughters – the wild side of industrial modernity. The clubbers of the so-called “fuoriorario” scene were the balls gone mad in the pinball machine most feared by newspapers, magazines and TV pundits. What they did each and every weekend, apart from going crazy to the sound of the current white labels, was linking distant geographical points and non-places (thank you Marc Augé!) – old dance halls, farmhouses and business centres – transformed for one night into house music heaven. As Marco D’Eramo wrote in his 1995 essay on Chicago, Il maiale e il grattacielo: “Four-wheeled capitalism distorts our age-old image of the city, it allows the suburbs to be connected to each other, whereas before they were connected only by the centre (…) It makes possible a metropolitan area without a metropolis, without a city centre, without downtown. The periphery is no longer a periphery of any centre, but is self-centred”.

“Paradise house” perfectly understood all of this and turned it into a sort of cyber-blues that didn’t even need words, and unexpectedly brought back a drop of melancholic (post?)-humanity within a world that by then – as we would wholly realise in the decades to come – was fully inhuman and heartless. A world where we were all alone, and surrounded by a sinister yellowish halo, like a neon at the end of its life cycle. But, for one night at least, happy."

The Complete Film Music Composed by Robert Aiki Aubrey Lowe - 2xLP 180 Gram Colored Vinyl - Old-Style Tip-On Gatefold Jackets with Satin Coating and a Built-In Booklet Page - Composer Liner Notes - 12 Page Art Gallery Exhibit Catalogue // In partnership with Universal Pictures, Metro Goldwyn Mayer (MGM) and Monkeypaw Productions, Waxwork Records is thrilled to present CANDYMAN Original Motion Picture Soundtrack by Robert Aiki Aubrey Lowe. Directed by Nia DaCosta (next year's The Marvels) from a screenplay by Oscarr winner Jordan Peele, Win Rosenfeld and DaCosta, Candyman, currently in theaters nationwide, is a fresh take on the blood-chilling urban legend and a contemporary incarnation of the 1992 cult horror classic. About Robert Aiki Aubrey Lowe: Robert Aiki Aubrey Lowe (b.1975) is an artist, curator and composer who works primarily with, but not limited to, voice and modular synthesizer for sound in the realm of spontaneous music. Along with analog video synthesis works, he has brought forth an A/V proposal that has been a focus of live performance and installation / exhibition. The marriage of synthesis and the voice has allowed for a heightened physicality in the way of ecstatic music, both in a live setting and recorded. The sensitivity of analogue modular synthesis echoes the organic nature of vocal expression, which in this case is meant to put forth a trancelike state. Lowe's works on paper tend towards human relations to the natural/magical world and the repetition of motifs. The deluxe 2xLP vinyl release features 180-gram colored vinyl, old-style tip-on gatefold jackets with satin coating and a built-in booklet page, liner notes by composer Robert Aiki Aubrey Lowe, a 12-page art gallery exhibition catalogue, artwork by Sherwin Ovid and Julian Williams and puppetry art by Manual Cinema.

Volume 1 of this expertly curated project of 90s Italian House - put together by Don Carlos.

If Paradise was half as nice… by Fabio De Luca.

Googling “paradise house”, the first results to pop up are an endless list of European b&b’s with whitewashed lime façades, all of them promising “…an unmatched travel experience a few steps from the sea”. Next, a little further down, are the institutional websites of a few select semi-luxury retirement homes (no photos shown, but lots of stock images of smiling nurses with reassuring looks). To find the “paradise house” we’re after, we have to scroll even further down. Much further down.

It feels like yesterday, and at the same time it seems like a million years ago. The Eighties had just ended, and it was still unclear what to expect from the Nineties. Mobile phones that were not the size of a briefcase and did not cost as much as a car? A frightening economic crisis? The guitar-rock revival?! Certainly, the best place to observe that moment of transition was the dancefloor. Truly epochal transformations were happening there. From America, within a short distance one from the other, two revolutionary new musical styles had arrived: the first one sounded a bit like an “on a budget” version of the best Seventies disco-music – Philly sound made with a set of piano-bar keyboards! – the other was even more sparse, futuristic and extraterrestrial. It was a music with a quite distinct “physical” component, which at the same time, to be fully grasped, seemed to call for the knotty theories of certain French post-modern philosophers: Gilles Deleuze, Félix Guattari, Paul Virilio... Both those genres – we would learn shortly after – were born in the black communities of Chicago and Detroit, although listening to those vinyl 12” (often wrapped in generic white covers, and with little indication in the label) you could not easily guess whether behind them there was a black boy from somewhere in the Usa, or a girl from Berlin, or a pale kid from a Cornish coastal town.

Quickly, similar sounds began to show up from all corners of Europe. A thousand variations of the same intuition: leaner, less lean, happier, slightly less intoxicated, more broken, slower, faster, much faster... Boom! From the dancefloors – the London ones at least, whose chronicles we eagerly read every month in the pages of The Face and i-D – came tales of a new generation of clubbers who had completely stopped “dressing up” to go dancing; of hot tempered hooligans bursting into tears and hugging everyone under the strobe lights as the notes of Strings of Life rose up through the fumes of dry ice (certain “smiling” pills were also involved, sure). At this point, however, we must move on to Switzerland.

In Switzerland, in the quiet and diligent town of Lugano, between the 1980s and 1990s there was a club called “Morandi”. Its hot night was on Wednesdays, when the audience also came from Milan, Como, Varese and Zurich. Legend goes that, one night, none less than Prince and Sheila E were spotted hiding among the sofas, on a day-off of the Italian dates of the Nude Tour… The Wednesday resident and superstar was an Italian dj with an exotic name: Don Carlos. The soundtrack he devised was a mixture of Chicago, Detroit, the most progressive R&B and certain forgotten classics of old disco music: practically, what the Paradise Garage in New York might have sounded like had it not closed in 1987. In between, Don Carlos also managed to squeeze in some tracks he had worked on in his studio on Lago Maggiore. One in particular: a track that was rather slow compared to the BPM in fashion at the time, but which was a perfect bridge between house and R&B. The title was Alone: Don Carlos would explain years later that it had to be intended both in the English meaning of “by itself” and like the Italian word meaning “halo”. That wasn’t the only double entendre about the song, anyway. Its own very deep nature was, indeed, double. On the one hand, Alone was built around an angelic keyboard pattern and a romantic piano riff that took you straight to heaven; on the other, it showcased enough electronic squelches (plus a sax part that sounded like it had been dissolved by acid rain) to pigeonhole the tune into the “junk modernity” section, aka the hallmark of all the most innovative sounds of the time: music that sounded like it was hand-crafted from the scraps of glittering overground pop.

No one knows who was the first to call it “paradise house”, nor when it happened. Alternative definitions on the same topic one happened to hear included “ambient house”, “dream house”, “Mediterranean progressive”… but of course none were as good (and alluring) as “paradise house”. What is certain is that such inclination for sounds that were in equal measure angelic and neurotic, romantic and unaffective, quickly became the trademark of the second generation of Italian house. Music that seemed shyly equidistant from all the rhythmic and electronic revolutions that had happened up to that moment (“Music perfectly adept at going nowhere slowly” as noted by English journalist Craig McLean in a legendary field report for Blah Blah Blah magazine). Music that to a inattentive ear might have sounded as anonymous as a snapshot of a random group of passers-by at 10AM in the centre of any major city, but perfectly described the (slow) awakening in the real world after the universal love binge of the so-called Second Summer of Love.

For a brief but unforgettable season, in Italy “paradise house” was the official soundtrack of interminable weekends spent inside the car, darting from one club to another, cutting the peninsula from North to centre, from East to West coast in pursuit of the latest after-hours disco, trading kilometres per hour with beats per minute: practically, a new New Year’s Eve every Friday and Saturday night. This too was no small transformation, as well as a shock for an adult Italy that was encountering for the first time – thanks to its sons and daughters – the wild side of industrial modernity. The clubbers of the so-called “fuoriorario” scene were the balls gone mad in the pinball machine most feared by newspapers, magazines and TV pundits. What they did each and every weekend, apart from going crazy to the sound of the current white labels, was linking distant geographical points and non-places (thank you Marc Augé!) – old dance halls, farmhouses and business centres – transformed for one night into house music heaven. As Marco D’Eramo wrote in his 1995 essay on Chicago, Il maiale e il grattacielo: “Four-wheeled capitalism distorts our age-old image of the city, it allows the suburbs to be connected to each other, whereas before they were connected only by the centre (…) It makes possible a metropolitan area without a metropolis, without a city centre, without downtown. The periphery is no longer a periphery of any centre, but is self-centred”.

“Paradise house” perfectly understood all of this and turned it into a sort of cyber-blues that didn’t even need words, and unexpectedly brought back a drop of melancholic (post?)-humanity within a world that by then – as we would wholly realise in the decades to come – was fully inhuman and heartless. A world where we were all alone, and surrounded by a sinister yellowish halo, like a neon at the end of its life cycle. But, for one night at least, happy.

“My introduction to “noise” came from a record shop in Lake Worth, Florida ran by a musician named Kenny 5. Kenny had left Detroit sometime in the mid nineties and had begun selling used records and CD’s from the downtown strip of this tiny southern Florida city in a humble shop sandwiched between a deli and a dog grooming business. Kenny previously was on labels like Amphetamine Reptile and timeSTEREO, and the records and videotapes that would be on repeat at his shop were a vast sonic expanse that spoke to the eclecticism of his experience as a touring musician participating and adjacent to American noise culture through the early to late 90’s. In 1998, I was eleven years old and I would order a pizza with him and watch VHS tapes of Japanese noise and deathmatch bootlegs, as well as any other sonic and subcultural rarities that far outstripped my age to comprehend (notably the RRR “Journey Into Pain” compilation and various Vanilla Tapes videos). This widecast net of information formed an introduction to a reality that did not fall deaf on me, but it took many years later for me to reorient the specific freedoms of what this dense and cathartic sound culture had imparted on my life and would continue onward to.

What does this have to do with this selection of choice recordings from the Secret Boyfriend catalog for the enmossed label? For the uninitiated, Secret Boyfriend is the long running moniker of Ryan Martin, North Carolina musician and label proprietor of the Hot Releases imprint. For over a decade from this writing I have watched Secret Boyfriend, and Hot Releases by extension as a curatorial and archival effort, embodying the multiplanal capacity that noise loosely functions from as an umbrella ideology and formalist avenue for sound creation. For anecdotal purposes, from (before) 2006 until roughly 2023 the East Coast of the United States showcased a vibrant network of eclectic regional festivals that saw wide swaths of artists addressing and negotiating the notion of what qualified “noise” from a conceptual and ideological perspective. Some festivals honed in on particularities in aesthetics and tropes, and others had a kind of “catch-all” implementation that allowed for a salvation of the sort of alienated and singular artistry that was amassing throughout these territories. While clear guidelines had been set from regional predecessors as to how noise with a capital “N” should maneuver, Secret Boyfriend is emblematic in the spirit of fluidity that was either implicitly coupled to the notion of the genre, or grew to evolve towards or devolve from.

Within Secret Boyfriend performances, I have seen and admired a mirroring from a ravenous appreciator of this culture at large back towards itself. Typical of a Secret Boyfriend set is an interchangeable narrative arc wherein blistering feedback laden scrap metal improvisations are forayed into naive ambient or “pop” songs, or skipping CDs, or mixer feedback play, or delayed Roland 707 drum workouts all at once and in a unique hegemony. Secret Boyfriend's stylistic mastery of each endeavor is at once an homage to a history of loving listening and enacting, while a brave step into the realm of actualizing the unique fluidity of his own practice. In performance and the action of network engagement, Secret Boyfriend operates a survey of that which he sought to hear and that which he cultivates around his work. His operations are mirrors, and the project (alongside his other peers) is a reflection on the ethos of his time.

Conversely his recording practice narrows in on these moments and allows for a different kind of intimacy or alienation for the non live listener. This record of selected “pop songs” (let's call them that) is particularly poignant at a time when the culture Martin mirrors is at a strange crossroads with itself. The aforementioned festival networks necessarily change and shift. The onlookers become the artists, the artists find new horizons, and the spaces for these cycles fade into locales of a distant memory. It seems, from my perspective, that audiences currently yearn for a more bottlenecked experience, searching for some ontologically vetted manifestation of an idea, of a sound and less for an experience that functions in opposition to our collective banalities. This makes sense in the face of general global catastrophism that plagues us. We need certainty of what something is somewhere, don’t we? Noise as an idea has expanded and contracted to so many iterations of itself it is hard to tell what it even is, and it is particularly difficult to identify in the absence of solid network activations a moment to reflect on its own complexities and nuances. In the face of so much change, I argue that the language of noise culture at large has on one hand become increasingly didactic and predictable, and laughably inclusive and non linear on the other. Probably has always been this way, but now we are in the midst of a moment of extreme access and indexicality, which somehow cauterizes expansion and naivety and chance.

This record highlights the Secret Boyfriend that obscures didacticism by highlighting output that opens up for more challenging catharsis and emotive signal processing. It provides an entry to the materialism of a cultural field full of ecstatic complexity and beautiful inconsistency. In these muted moments Secret Boyfriend has given us over his career we have an argument for evolving languages that further challenge our notions of what is supposed to happen and how it is supposed to be presented. In his more song oriented expansiveness, we can punctuate the ability to think in new modalities. Listening to these recordings reminds me of the polarity of sitting in the record store as a kid and understanding that His Name Is Alive is on 4AD and (gasp!) timeSTEREO. This trite early impression that nothing is really as different as our imaginations might want them to be, and that we can do whatever we want mostly within the creative realms we work through is an important filter to look through Secret Boyfriend as a project and a vessel. If we can achieve abandon and vulnerability through our artistic endeavors, then we have a sound model for, maybe, new potentialities. If that’s too much projection, or just complete liberal bullshit, I am fine with that. Secret Boyfriend's oeuvre at best offers us moments of reprieve to ponder these complexities, or at least a moment to zone out on a drive through North Carolina Highway 54.

You have one pocket of life that you must do whatever you want to inside of. Secret Boyfriend does it affectionately, in a variety of forms, and always with deep sentimentality. These recordings are a wonderful set of songs to begin further investigation from. Thank you Ryan for allowing as many avenues as possible to continue a broad cultural exchange and conversation that intersect and refract while being the kind of artist that is brave enough to not phone in the effort.”

- Nick Klein , May 2024

Mount Athos, known as the «Holy Mountain,» is a monastic peninsula in northeastern Greece, central to Eastern Orthodox monasticism for over a millennium. Its twenty monasteries house around 2,000 monks dedicated to prayer and worship, which songs have echoed across the Aegean Sea for centuries, heard only by visiting pilgrims, isolated from conventional time and global events.

After several years of research, and several visits to the retired community, we are happy to present our new project «Athos : Echoes from the Holy Mountain» dedicated to this liturgic music and repertoire that seems to be evolving outside the usual boundaries of time and space. Rooted in Byzantine chant, this a cappella tradition essential to monastic life featuring intricate yet serene melodies designed to facilitate prayer and contemplation, using a system of modes and scales to create a meditative atmosphere.

Trans-disciplinary, this effort of documentation also comprehends an artistic re-interpretation aspect inviting contemporary Greek and foreign artists to reflect on the subject.

A musical compilation which captures original field recordings from the 1960s and from today capturing the essence of liturgical music on Mount Athos, but also new compositions inspired by them by artists such as Holy Tongue (UK), Jay Glass Dubs (GR), Prins Emanuel & Inre Kresten Grupp (SWE), Jimi Tenor (FI), Gilb’r (FR), Daniel Paleodimos (GR), Esma & Murat Ertel (TUR) and Organza Ray (GR/US).

A trilingual book in English, Greek and French, featuring essays, articles, photographs and artistic comissions reflecting around the theme giving a voice to contributors such as , Stratos Kalafatis, Theodore Psychoyos, Tefra90, Father Damaskinos Ulkinuora, Prof. Thomas Apostolopoulos, Makar Tereshin, Phaedra Douzina-Bakalaki, Michelangelo Paganopoulos and Alberto Cameroni.

The release of the book and the record will be followed by a cycle of exhibitions and conferences, deploying FLEE’s year-long research on Mount Athos, as well as its numerous commissioned artworks.

To experience Justin R. Cruz Gallego's pulverizing Sub Pop debut is to get burned down to ashes and burst forth, born anew. Grim Iconic...(Sadistic Mantra), the Tacoma-based artist's second album, is driven by opposing forces: noisy abstractions and tightly structured beats, anguish and dissolution at the outside world and empowerment within, apathy and catharsis. Grim Iconic...(Sadistic Mantra) weds scouring electronics to hooky songs and Gallego's powerful drumming in a way that feels visceral and new. It's his most personal statement to date, at once playful and intent, driven and combustible, total fucking chaos mixed into glints of broken-glass beauty. Born in Tucson, Arizona, Gallego experienced culture shock as a child after relocating to the frigid climes of the Pacific Northwest. He found solace in the Seattle punk scene centered around Iron Lung Records and has since remained a fixture in the underground community. "I see this record as first and foremost a musical statement," Gallego says. "I grew up in punk and DIY subcultures, but before that I had Latin music playing in the background through my childhood and every phase of adolescence. It was surprisingly natural to incorporate. I realized I wanted to go deeper into these rhythms. I wanted to make a record that felt as experimental as much as it felt from the perspective of a Latino. When I got a glimmer of that possibility, it felt exciting." Lead single "Dogear" is a face-melting party starter that sounds like someone forced Talking Heads and Rudimentary Peni to share a practice space. "I wanted a song that felt playful in the way it attempted to be dissonant without taking itself too seriously," Gallego says. "Cholla Beat" is even more ambitious, an anthemic mix of WAR and Wire led by unruly synthesizers spiraling down a labyrinth of production. Gallego's influences for the album are vast, ranging from British documentary filmmaker Adam Curtis to electric Miles Davis to audio miscreants like Demdike Stare and Oneohtrix Point Never. But it's Gallego's assured sonic vision that resounds the loudest. And, while J.R.C.G. is a solo project, conceived and executed primarily in Gallego's home studio, he found strength in opening the project to others, starting with Seth Manchester as co-producer. Manchester's penchant for bone-rattling frequencies, as seen in his production work with The Body, Battles, and Mdou Moctar, made him a natural fit for Gallego. Together, they retained the intimacy of Gallego's home recordings while taking advantage of the hi-fi stylings of his Machines With Magnets Studio in Rhode Island. The closing song, "World i," offers a glimpse into the live experience of Grim Iconic...(Sadistic Mantra), with upwards of seven band members blasting off. The album features a fascinating mix of supporting players, many of whom cycle through J.R.C.G.'s live lineup: Morgan Henderson (The Blood Brothers, Fleet Foxes), Jason Clackley (Dreamdecay, The Exquisites), Jon Scheid (Dreamdecay, U Sco), Erica Miller (Casual Hex, Big Bite), Veronica Dye (Terminator) Phil Cleary (U Sco), and Alex Gaziano (Dreamdecay, Kidcrash, Science Amplification). Taken as a whole, G.I.S.M. is a whirlwind of sound, pummeling, and cleansing. It's a sweaty, thrilling aural adventure and, like a great basement show, it'll leave you breathless, exhausted, and wanting to repeat it all over again. As any good mantra should.

The new album from Lebanese-American musician Solpara, Melancholy Sabotage, marks his full length debut and return to Nicolas Jaar's Other People label. While it was recorded over Covid lockdowns, Jaar had been talking about wanting to back a Solpara full-length since he put out Swing. The album came to life while Solpara was living alone in a Brooklyn loft, collecting unemployment checks and viewing ample free time as the artist residency he'd dreamed of; he'd previously been forced to make music in odd windows between numerous jobs and the unmerciful pace of city life. Free from obligations, he would wake up early to take Arabic lessons online, read Tracey Thorn's autobiography, and skateboard the deserted streets, then come home and design sounds until he had a track that felt like it needed to be released. While this easy going lifestyle was peaceful in many ways, Solpara found more complex inspiration in the emotion that stemmed from participation in Black Lives Matter protests and the 2020 Beirut Port explosion, which rocked all of his extended family members in Lebanon.

Melancholy Sabotage explores the theme of sabotaging melancholy. Echoing sounds from the post-punk, trip-hop, and ambient genres, it is about sabotaging the cycle of melancholy and looking at this process without ignoring the sources that put it into motion. It may be compared to a rattling breaking free from retention, reaching states of dreamy euphoria while simultaneously acknowledging the sources of retention, viewed from above. The sources can be personal, political, or socio-economic. They are to be apprehended post-melancholy, after the sabotaging of the initial cycle of melancholy. In other words, it is about transcending melancholy and understanding where it came from with some distance. It may be beautiful and healthy to feel for a while, but how may one sabotage this cycle when it becomes paralyzing? Ultimately, this album is about feeling melancholy but also resisting it and naming the sources that initiated it.

"Time To Hold Better" points to neglect on both personal and group levels. "This Time Last Year" is a personal time capsule. "We Keep Us Safe" is about solidarity, autonomy, and care witnessed within protest groups. "Melancholy Sabotage" is a sonic exploration of the album concept illustrating anger and sadness, but finally, resistance and liberation from these feelings. "Measures" is a more fluid exploration of the latter after the initial storm has passed. "We Don't Owe" points to bigger bodies inflicting harm on populations that we owe nothing to. "Breaking Points" harkens the times that we may lose focus while pushing to transcend melancholy. "Eviction" is about being pushed out of a space unwillingly while simultaneously being forced to move forward.

Melancholy Sabotage pulls from a range of genres, uniting electronic sounds under the same post-punky glow. It pulls from complex, heavy themes including damage and injustice, presenting Solpara's most moving body of work to date. It highlights the poignance that has always been at the heart of his fluid sound, which caters to dancefloors and avant-garde spaces in equal measure. Working with a mix of dissonant guitars, distorted drum machines, and distant, reverb-washed vocals, Melancholy Sabotage is Solpara's uneasiest outing to date. The record pinpoints the duality at the heart of Solpara's sound, which is as plaintive as it is searing.

"Remembering is not the opposite of forgetting," Casey MQ sings at the start of Later that day, the day before, or the day before that, his new LP and Ghostly International debut. It's a phrase fittingly misremembered from something the LA-based, Canadian-born composer came upon as he spiraled into unconscious and subconscious-led writing sessions at the piano. Casey's known for his 2020 breakthrough release babycasey, which gave voice to songs seen through the lens of childhood, various film score work and collaborations with artists such as Oklou (who returns here), Eartheater, and Vagabon. His gifts as a producer and songwriter are rooted in textural world-building and the excavation of personal truth. With Later that day... he questions what is true entirely, understanding our mind's tendency to bend and project onto pictures of the past. Across vivid, baroque pop balladry, Casey MQ reorients his recording project and point of view under the notion that memories are malleable. All the joy, pain, love, and loss housed within remembrance is open to interpretation and deconstruction, which he does deftly, with curiosity and complete artistic freedom. "It's a memory album," Casey puts it simply, winding up for the deeper unpacking, "and it might be a breakup album, too_there are more questions than answers." Engaging his dreams and sitting with sheet music at his newly acquired piano, he looked to new and old inspirations including the works of Claude Debussy, Joni Mitchell, and Joe Hisaishi's beloved Studio Ghibli film scores. "Since I was young, I always wanted to write a piano album." babycasey's studied electronic sound isn't wholly abandoned on Later that day... instead, it comes through like an atmosphere, giving Casey's more spacious, minimal arrangements a distinct luster and sheen. The textures and tones shift from song to song as if mirroring the way our minds constantly recontextualize, remember, and forget. Cathartic opener "Grey Gardens" _ its title derived from a dream abstractly related to the Toronto restaurant, but not the 1975 film, which he cites as another coincidental false memory _ presents the record's plaintive, haunted feeling. "Even if not reading into lyrics, sonically I wanted it to feel like you're being pulled into a universe. Not fantasy or otherworldly per se, something more tangible, of the body and mind," Casey says. "Hearing it back, I realized this track was the key to unlocking it." His tender falsetto hovers above ambient washes and echoed keys, each word falling carefully in the crevices. "Asleep At The Wheel" unfolds on arpeggiated synth before a burst of symphonic color; the synth returns inverted to harmonize with the outro, "I love a car crash, I love a story, I love a memory, I swear it's real..." Casey leans into digital imagination on the warm, introspective "Me I Think I Found It." Subdued, stuttered percussion underscores the singer as he cycles through pixelated imagery _ screenshots, smiles, streetlights _ searching for higher meaning through love. Built on ascendent chord distortions, "Dying Til I'm Born" gives the record one of its boldest pulses of emotion. The back half stretches out; "Is This Only Water" is sparse and foggy, "Baby Voice" is intimate and desperate for something to remain. "Words For Love" grooves on guitar, and "Tennisman9" aches in heartbreak. French musician Marylou Mayniel, aka Oklou, appears as the collection's only guest for the closing duet, "The Make Believe," a bright and buoyant send-off that gives Later that day... both a sense of resolve and cyclical-motion. "We are young, under the sun," they sing together, a parting image brimming with lightness.

"Remembering is not the opposite of forgetting," Casey MQ sings at the start of Later that day, the day before, or the day before that, his new LP and Ghostly International debut. It's a phrase fittingly misremembered from something the LA-based, Canadian-born composer came upon as he spiraled into unconscious and subconscious-led writing sessions at the piano. Casey's known for his 2020 breakthrough release babycasey, which gave voice to songs seen through the lens of childhood, various film score work and collaborations with artists such as Oklou (who returns here), Eartheater, and Vagabon. His gifts as a producer and songwriter are rooted in textural world-building and the excavation of personal truth. With Later that day... he questions what is true entirely, understanding our mind's tendency to bend and project onto pictures of the past. Across vivid, baroque pop balladry, Casey MQ reorients his recording project and point of view under the notion that memories are malleable. All the joy, pain, love, and loss housed within remembrance is open to interpretation and deconstruction, which he does deftly, with curiosity and complete artistic freedom. "It's a memory album," Casey puts it simply, winding up for the deeper unpacking, "and it might be a breakup album, too_there are more questions than answers." Engaging his dreams and sitting with sheet music at his newly acquired piano, he looked to new and old inspirations including the works of Claude Debussy, Joni Mitchell, and Joe Hisaishi's beloved Studio Ghibli film scores. "Since I was young, I always wanted to write a piano album." babycasey's studied electronic sound isn't wholly abandoned on Later that day... instead, it comes through like an atmosphere, giving Casey's more spacious, minimal arrangements a distinct luster and sheen. The textures and tones shift from song to song as if mirroring the way our minds constantly recontextualize, remember, and forget. Cathartic opener "Grey Gardens" _ its title derived from a dream abstractly related to the Toronto restaurant, but not the 1975 film, which he cites as another coincidental false memory _ presents the record's plaintive, haunted feeling. "Even if not reading into lyrics, sonically I wanted it to feel like you're being pulled into a universe. Not fantasy or otherworldly per se, something more tangible, of the body and mind," Casey says. "Hearing it back, I realized this track was the key to unlocking it." His tender falsetto hovers above ambient washes and echoed keys, each word falling carefully in the crevices. "Asleep At The Wheel" unfolds on arpeggiated synth before a burst of symphonic color; the synth returns inverted to harmonize with the outro, "I love a car crash, I love a story, I love a memory, I swear it's real..." Casey leans into digital imagination on the warm, introspective "Me I Think I Found It." Subdued, stuttered percussion underscores the singer as he cycles through pixelated imagery _ screenshots, smiles, streetlights _ searching for higher meaning through love. Built on ascendent chord distortions, "Dying Til I'm Born" gives the record one of its boldest pulses of emotion. The back half stretches out; "Is This Only Water" is sparse and foggy, "Baby Voice" is intimate and desperate for something to remain. "Words For Love" grooves on guitar, and "Tennisman9" aches in heartbreak. French musician Marylou Mayniel, aka Oklou, appears as the collection's only guest for the closing duet, "The Make Believe," a bright and buoyant send-off that gives Later that day... both a sense of resolve and cyclical-motion. "We are young, under the sun," they sing together, a parting image brimming with lightness.

METAL HAMMER - 8/10 review. FOR FANS OF : Lustmord, Om, Sunn O))) . “An exercise in freeform ambience, ritualistic repetition and the rapturous, womb-like power of bass…strange and affecting. We remain lucky to share in the great man’s vision.”

It’s a dream diary narrating a passage through Summer Isle where Flying Saucer Attack are wafting out of a window, a distant Fairport Convention are being remixed by dub master Adrian Sherwood, celestial scanners Tangerine Dream are trying to drown out Bert Jansch and Hawkwind are playing Steeleye Span covers, all prised out of time yet bound to its singularity.

Released periodically on three of 2024’s full moons – April 23rd’s Pink Moon, July 21st’s Buck Moon and October 17th’s Hunter Moon – the three-album cycle, “Triptych”, is (Steve Von Till from Neurosis) Harvestman’s most ambitious undertaking yet.

Guest musicians including Al Cisneros of Sleep / OM who plays bass on one track for each LP, of which he will also mix a dub version on the B-Side of each LP. Dave French of Yob, Sanford Parker and Wayne from Petbrick all make appearances.


Released periodically on three of 2024’s full moons – April 23rd’s Pink Moon, July 21st’s Buck Moon and October 17th’s Hunter Moon – the three-album cycle, “Triptych”, is (Steve Von Till from Neurosis) Harvestman’s most ambitious undertaking yet.

Guest musicians including Al Cisneros of Sleep / OM who plays bass on one track for each LP, of which he will also mix a dub version on the B-Side of each LP. Dave French of Yob, Sanford Parker and Wayne from Petbrick all make appearances.

It’s a dream diary narrating a passage through Summer Isle where Flying Saucer Attack are wafting out of a window, a distant Fairport Convention are being remixed by dub master Adrian Sherwood, celestial scanners Tangerine Dream are trying to drown out Bert Jansch and Hawkwind are playing Steeleye Span covers, all prised out of time yet bound to its singularity.

Bone White opaque + Black Galaxy effect vinyl in dub style jacket (jacket sleeve with centre hole cut out so label shows throug
Drawn to the megaliths, ruins and ancient sites mapped out along the British and European mainland’s geographical and psychic landscapes, the folklore and apocrypha forever resurfacing as portals from a rational world, “Triptych” is a meditation forged from traces and residues, and an hallucinatory recollection of artists who have tapped into that enduring otherworldliness embedded within us all.

Woven together from home studio recordings that span two decades, this fifth outing as Harvestman finds parallels with nature’s cycles not just in its release dates but in the repeated structure that binds each album, like an imprint refracted though three separate strata. “Part One”, as with the forthcoming Parts Two and Three, starts on a collaboration with Om bassist and long-term friend of Steve’s, Al Cisneros, with a dub take opening the B-Side. Here, the opening track “Psilosynth" orbits a grandfather-clock mechanism passing through a nebula haze, all waved on by an acid-fried deity. From there on, “Part One” journeys through the elegiac “Give Your Heart To The Hawk”, with the sampled poetry like a documentary retrieved from a long-lost world, Philip Glass wistfully attending a rescue beacon from the far corner of the universe on Coma, as well as percussion recordings performed by Steve and friend Dave French (drummer of Yob) on a rusted torn open stock tank outside Steve’s barn, treated bagpipes and old reel-to-reel recordings, all reiterated across the next volumes in ever more out-there contexts.

If “Triptych” is a multi- and extra-sensory experience, it extends to the remarkable glyph-style artwork of Henry Hablak, a map of correspondences from a long-forgotten ancient and advanced civilization. As with “Triptych” itself, it’s an echo from another time, an act of binding, a guide to be endlessly reinterpreted, and a signpost to the sacred that might not indicate where to look, but how.

Monika Enterprise welcomes a new act to her roster with Berlin based experimental pop duo Post Neo releasing their new EP. Individually known as Nicole Luján and Pauline Weh, both musicians pursued their own solo projects before forming the duo Post Neo. On “Alles Immer Wieder” they combine as more than the sum of their parts to produce 5 songs of dark and powerful experimental avant- pop which is released as an exclusive 10” vinyl.

Pauline and Nicole met making music in Berlin during the summer of 2019 and kept collaborating online, until Nicole moved to Berlin in 2022. The musicians' different musical backgrounds result in diverse intuitions which complement each other perfectly when producing tracks together - Nicole was more into synthesis and electronic music production in Mexico City while Pauline received a classical piano education in Munich before she started doing electronic music.

In 2022 they released their first EP, «do you?», which consists of five tracks that were composed and produced as an inter-continental project between Berlin and Mexico City. In autumn of that year Post Neo received a residency at Sternhagen Gut from Musicboard Berlin where they caught the ear of monika head Gudrun Gut who was so taken with their compelling mix of techno beats and dreamy melancholic atmospheres she immediately signed them to her label.

The EP’s opening and title track “Alles Immer Wieder” (trans. Everything again and again) is a reflection on repetition and monotony as transcendence in the form of sleep, dreams, work and other daily cycles. The rhythmic juxtapositions and tempo shifts make for a captivating opening track. “Ganz Schön Was Los” (trans. A lot happening) has a proper synthwave electro pop vibe while the vocals lend a little light hearted humanity to the otherwise calculated computer music aesthetic. With its fusion of synthesizers and drum machines track B1 “Die Verwirrung” (trans. The confusion) brings a sense of melancholic doom. The flow of B2 “Wenn Wir Wüssten” (trans. If we knew what would happen) is a future-focused reflection on the unidirectional movement of time's arrow. Sampled harmonies and instrumental breakdowns make it possibly the most emotive track on the EP. And the record comes to a close with “Dreh dich” (trans. Turn around) which lures us in with delicate vocals before menacing synthesizer sounds blast us into oblivion. It is an invitation to turn the record over and start listening from the beginning again.

Post Neo’s music is steeped in minimalism: at once managing to be hugely expressive and evocative while still retaining a sense of privacy and mystery for the listener to decrypt. Like all great pop music their songs are musically captivating while also conveying a strong message. As their band name suggests, Post Neo are essentially futuristic and with live shows at some of Berlin’s hottest underground venues under their belt as well as in their hometowns of Munich and Mexico City, plus the release of „Alles Immer Wieder“ in 2024, great things are in store for the electronic pop duo.

Speak to most musicians about their motivations, inspirations and processes and you will, generally, get variations on a similar, broadly consensual, theme. Natasha Pirard is genuinely different. Her interest in sound goes way beyond the superficial and the ephemeral. She is fascinated by how and why sound makes us feel, the political implications of sound, noise pollution and the everyday sounds embedded in our immediate environment.

Contextually, this makes a lot of sense when confronted with her debut release for DEEWEE, Dream Cycles. A 120-minute exploration of sounds, loops, frequencies and waves, it’s an eight- part musical cycle split into 15-minute sections across four cassettes, she believes, reflects on this notion of cyclical, rather than linear, time. The eight song cycles are repetitive. They start off basic and functional and build over time. They begin with one sound but soon you hear other sounds. From there you get taken to another point, where you hear something else and so on and so forth. The circle is never-ending.

Natasha Pirard is a musicologist and composer from Ghent. She will be releasing her album Dream Cycles in February 2024, as a limited edition four cassette box set, marking her debut on the Ghent-based label DEEWEE.

Sampha announces the full details of his highly-anticipated, sophomore album LAHAI, out October 20th on Young. Taken from his paternal grandfather’s name, which is also Sampha’s middle name, LAHAI revels in the awe and magic of our existence, synthesizing the exquisite chaos that one experiences confronting the cycle of life and the beyondness. Spanning 14-tracks, with contributions from some of Sampha’s closest friends, peers and collaborators including: Yaeji, Léa Sen, Sheila Maurice Grey (Kokoroko), Ibeyi, Morgan Simpson (Black Midi), Yussef Dayes, Laura Groves and Kwake Bass, LAHAI, in contrast to Process, is a communal affair seeing Sampha explore the many ways in which we as humans connect to each other, and to something bigger than ourselves. On the album’s latest single “Only,” premiering today via a new music video directed by Dexter Navy in collaboration with Sampha, which follows the recent “Spirit 2.0,” we meet a newly energized Sampha, as he spits melodically over a fragmented hip-hop hued beat with co-production from El Guincho.

Not unlike its maker, LAHAI defies clear categorization. Spanning jazz, soul, rap, dance, jungle and west African music, LAHAI sees Sampha elevating his production and vocal ambition to great new heights. A notable singer, songwriter and producer, it’s no wonder that artists like Kendrick Lamar, Stormzy, Travis Scott and previously, Drake, Solange, Frank Ocean, Beyoncé, Lil Wayne and Alicia Keys have all tapped the artist for his inimitable voice plus songwriting and production contributions to their music. His work expands across multiple disciplines, with previous creative partnerships including the fashion designer Grace Wales Bonner, the Shy Light zine with Durimel (who also shot the LAHAI artwork) his Process film with director Kahlil Joseph, and most recently creative director Jonny Lu, with whom Sampha worked to create the LAHAI album artwork and logo.

If Process, Sampha’s 2017 Mercury-Prize-winning debut album, was an artist figuring out his own place in the world, engulfed in the shadows of grief and loss, LAHAI is an exercise in the radical acceptance and joy in the human condition, and the beauty in the journey itself. Welcome to Sampha’s next musical chapter: LAHAI.

Sampha announces the full details of his highly-anticipated, sophomore album LAHAI, out October 20th on Young. Taken from his paternal grandfather’s name, which is also Sampha’s middle name, LAHAI revels in the awe and magic of our existence, synthesizing the exquisite chaos that one experiences confronting the cycle of life and the beyondness. Spanning 14-tracks, with contributions from some of Sampha’s closest friends, peers and collaborators including: Yaeji, Léa Sen, Sheila Maurice Grey (Kokoroko), Ibeyi, Morgan Simpson (Black Midi), Yussef Dayes, Laura Groves and Kwake Bass, LAHAI, in contrast to Process, is a communal affair seeing Sampha explore the many ways in which we as humans connect to each other, and to something bigger than ourselves. On the album’s latest single “Only,” premiering today via a new music video directed by Dexter Navy in collaboration with Sampha, which follows the recent “Spirit 2.0,” we meet a newly energized Sampha, as he spits melodically over a fragmented hip-hop hued beat with co-production from El Guincho.

Not unlike its maker, LAHAI defies clear categorization. Spanning jazz, soul, rap, dance, jungle and west African music, LAHAI sees Sampha elevating his production and vocal ambition to great new heights. A notable singer, songwriter and producer, it’s no wonder that artists like Kendrick Lamar, Stormzy, Travis Scott and previously, Drake, Solange, Frank Ocean, Beyoncé, Lil Wayne and Alicia Keys have all tapped the artist for his inimitable voice plus songwriting and production contributions to their music. His work expands across multiple disciplines, with previous creative partnerships including the fashion designer Grace Wales Bonner, the Shy Light zine with Durimel (who also shot the LAHAI artwork) his Process film with director Kahlil Joseph, and most recently creative director Jonny Lu, with whom Sampha worked to create the LAHAI album artwork and logo.

If Process, Sampha’s 2017 Mercury-Prize-winning debut album, was an artist figuring out his own place in the world, engulfed in the shadows of grief and loss, LAHAI is an exercise in the radical acceptance and joy in the human condition, and the beauty in the journey itself. Welcome to Sampha’s next musical chapter: LAHAI.

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.

Naarm alchemists Sleep D's revelatory new synthetic 'Electronic Arts' is ready for circulation.

Having released 4 EPs of mind-altering club tackle since 2019's 'Rebel Force', the duo overcome second album syndrome, boiling down their chaos with a more developed sense of songwriting. Never banging one drum, 'Electronic Arts' mirrors the anything goes mania of their DJ sets, tactfully shifting through different sounds and styles. Tempos intensify and decelerate, at times pushing the threshold to 150 bpm from docile canine dreamscapes to full tilt Space Invaders in AR mind games.

Largely built on road tested material from their live performances, the album is a tangible Butter Sessions gathering, busting out the gate with Martian rave initiation Planet Waves, Outdoor System's polyrhythmic beatdown and the Orb-like hero dose affirmations of Sunrise In The Crater (I Exist). While 'Electronic Arts' is otherwise a self-dependent effort, Punch Drunk is brewed ever more potent by the hypnagogic vocals and lucid trumpet cycles of former futsal team member YL Hooi. Their unified energy incidentally manifests a profound matrix of ambient techno, motorik, Don Cherry and Everything But the Girl.

Also touching on apocalyptic doof and minimal, the album is not exclusively peak time with Maryos Syawish and Corey Kikos' specialty curveballs also playing their part. From Village To Empire finds the duo rooting down in Syawish's heritage with a tapestry of purposefully deployed Iraqi and Syrian ethnographic samples and field recordings, dubbed within range of Muslimgauze and On-U Sound. As minimal techno finale Textile trails off into footsteps wandering back to base camp with a satisfied exhale, one wonders where Sleep D's existential pathfinding could possibly take us next?

Hania Rani announces "On Giacometti" a tender meditation on the life and art of Alberto Giacometti and family. "On Giacometti" is a collection of beautiful recordings inspired by the renowned artist and family and features some of Rani's most profoundly delicate compositions to date. Invited by film director Susanna Fanzun, to score her forthcoming documentary on the legendary artist Alberto Giacometti, Hania Rani took herself to the Swiss mountains to compose in blissful isolation. As Rani explains eloquently below the compositions are based on improvised melodies, simple harmonies and structures and inspired by the silence of the mountains as Rani returns to her main instrument, the piano. The results are beguilingly reminiscent of her beloved debut album Esja, but with subtle extra layers of synthesiser, and on two tracks cello from friend and long-running collaborator Dobrawa Czocher.

'On Giacometti' is presented as a limited edition LP with bespoke packaging featuring Les Naturals - Chocolat (Gmund) sustainable recycled paperboard made from 100 % recovered paper with Foil Artwork by Łukasz Pałczyński. Plus Double sided printed insert and download code inside.

Hania Rani "On Giacometti":
‘When I was asked to compose a soundtrack for a movie about the family of Giacometti I didn't think twice.

Alberto Giacometti, a Swiss artist, who worked mainly as painter and sculptor has been one of my favourite artists for a long time. His individual style, aesthetics and the character of his creative process is still fascinating to me on many levels, so being able to dive even deeper into his universe, getting to know not only him but also his family was an opportunity that I couldn't miss. Little did I know how far this "yes" will take me - not only mentally and on a creative level but also physically. Thanks to the director of the documentary - Susanna Fanzun and by a stroke of luck and a couple of extra questions I decided to move for a couple of months to the Swiss mountains, not far away from the place where Giacometti was born and where the place he called home was, although he didn't live there. Susanna showed me a place close to her hometown where I could rent a studio and work on the soundtrack but also for my other projects. It was the middle of a winter, the area was full of ice and snow, just like only it can happen still in the mountains. The residency house was located in a valley surrounded by high mountains and the sun in the winter season was not coming up for too long during the day. I remember she told me about it and added "that not everyone is feeling well there, but I hope you will". I did.

Being almost separated from reality, the city and its entertainments, people rushing and everything that usually takes my attention I could fully concentrate on the music and soundtrack, spending most of the day with my own thoughts and having enough space to experiment and be free in a creative process. This soundtrack would probably be a very different thing if composed in a place that I am usually living in. I took this a chance to explore something new about myself as a composer and human being, taking the opposite direction that I would usually choose for myself.

The album "On Giacometti" includes the excerpts from the soundtrack, the most representative tracks and those which became a strong voice itself. Based a lot on improvised melodies, simple harmonies, structures and silence it reminds me of my debut album "Esja" which was partly composed and recorded in another chilly place - Iceland. All these components, both mental and physical, guided me back to my main instrument - piano, which I tried to redefine again with a language of the space that I was working in. The space is usually the key element that gives me the answer about the arrangement or character of the project. Space seems to be the first to appear and music is the invisible power which is changing its angels.’ Living surrounded by mountains makes you change the perspective and understanding of scale as Alberto Giacometti once famously wrote in a letter: It gives an impression that things that are actually far away, like mountains, are close and the other ones that are not so far away, like people, seem small, watched from a distance. You feel like touching the mountain top with your finger could be as easy as touching the tip of your nose. The snow additionally protects the whole area from the noise, each sound lands softly on the ground accompanied by echoes of immeasurable space. Each scratch or whisper is becoming an autonomic entity, opening the gate to the world of ghosts and lost spirits. It's easy to think that time stands still there, while nothing is moving and changing at the first sight. But the ubiquitous ice and snow reveal the passage of time, transforming frozen paysage into the wild stream of water - each day, hour and second. Melting and vanishing, clearing the space from white powder and noise consuming surface. Invisible process for a one night traveller, becomes painfully real for longer time settlers. Time flows with each new wave of sound coming through the river, reminding us that we are part of the cycle, which endlessly repeats itself.

Never one to pull inventive punches, Left Coast electronic music producer Dave Aju reassembled this notorious cast of characters for a remarkably fitting album package made during one of the most strange times our world has ever faced in the throes of the COVID-19 pandemic. While things were essentially shutdown, reopened, cycle-repeat worldwide, and every other species in mother nature's kingdom temporarily rejoiced while humans remained still in their caves, Aju and The Invisible Art Trio, his formidable if not-seen-in-a-minute musical team behind such underground anthems as "Be Like the Sun", went to work in the final days of the glorious G-Son studios in Atwater Village LA to record this LP.

Indeed, the same four/five walls and vocal booth that saw the Beastie's iconic Check Your Head and Hello Nasty come to life, became the birthplace of Glossolalia, Aju's fifth studio album and appropriately impressive seven-song set. As always, myriad musical styles and influences are strung together and boldly combined here, to the degree that drawing comparisons or attempting genre references feels futile. There are, however, clear visceral expressions of political provocation, hope and anger, fear and joy laid over twisted yet dedicated grooves in a lockdown era where Aju's imaginary collective dance floor feels in the temporary absence thereof and bizarro sixth-world unification strategy of recording every song's lyrics in complete non-languages aka total gibberish, feels right at home. Even the vocal guests join in the literal chant here, granting us diverse spell-casting and sensual nonsensical lyrical lines over tech-funk mother lodes, before closing the otherworldly proceedings with a powerful grand finale tribute to the US of A's proud boys-in-blue in the wake of George Floyd's very public assassination.

Equal parts timely anti-establishment and uplifting call-to-action, Glossolalia serves as a decidedly coarse yet crucial reminder of the possibilities in collaborative and devoted noise-making, booty-shaking, and alternative world-building during greater global disarray - beyond stylistic, nationalistic, and linguistic dividing lines. An overtly universal and unifying message liberating us from any fixed cultural identities and thus differences, to instead just focus on how the music delivers and we physically respond, together, as the foundation. Perhaps also an inspired response to the talking heads in every corner of the world's media, spewing useless and politically-tainted mouth data at us amidst these turbulent times.

"Under This Hunger Moon We Fell" is the new album from the uniquely talented, multi-instrumental artificer Lomond Campbell, the third and final instalment of his experiments using tape loops at the heart of his music making process. Campbell notes that "as the album was nearing completion there was a particularly dramatic Supermoon called a Hunger Moon. Apparently it has this name because it occurs right at the end of winter, when predators are at their most lethal and desperate, and those seen as less powerful are preyed upon". These themes can be clearly heard on an album that feels cold and bleak in tandem with moments of vulnerability and tenderness. "Under This Hunger Moon We Fell" stalks from the shadows with a natural, quiet confidence before exploring more carnal heaviness and occasionally brutal displays of dramatic tension. It meditates in cycles and is at both times predator and prey, conveying the balance of these relationships with its cinematic compositions. The album ranges from soft, delicate atmospheric musings such as "Bastard Wing" and "Leave Only Love Behind" to the dark electronics of "And They Are Afraid Of Her" and "Phonon For No One", which Campbell describes as "akin to a massive machine starting up, like a huge sinister power mobilising". During its gloomier moments, "Under This Hunger Moon We Fell" buries tonally ambiguous ambience underneath hazy, distorted textures created via the gradual degradation of the tape. It creates a dream-like backdrop with a moody undertone created by deep basslines and hulking percussive elements, blended with orchestral sounds that add an air of humanity. Although his music is grounded in sound it often incorporates sculpture, engineering, product design and visual art. Using a combination of hardware hacking and industrial manufacturing techniques, Lomond builds his own unique instruments and devices for creating sound which he combines with modular synths, piano and voice. The album also sees Campbell"s vocal debut on "For The Uncarved", having originally written the part for a friend. "I was supposed to be recording her album in my studio The Lengths, but she was struck down with Covid so the session was scrapped. It felt like the album needed some kind of human element so I resorted to singing the part myself". "Under This Hunger Moon We Fell" concludes a trio of albums using tape loops, which was kickstarted with an email from Lomond"s long-time friend and collaborator King Creosote. He was looking for a custom tape looping machine so Lomond set about designing and building a unique music machine, inspired by Reich and Basinski, that plays 10 second tape loops which disintegrate over time as they pass near a rotating magnetic disc. Campbell built and then tested the machine by recording a series of improvisations with it which became LUP, the first album in the trilogy.

restock!

Written and recorded during 2020, a year marked by forced quarantine with in turn proved to be a prolific time for musical composition. It is an album about change, aging and the fading memories one has, often more of a product of the current state of a person than an accurate description of those remembered moments. With age we tend to forget or lose contact with particular moments and parts of our own story and context become erased forever, as though they never happened. With this album, peter bjärgö takes the first steps into something new, bringing along his signature sound from past projects into a slowly evolving transition to a sonic world beyond his previous achievements. Leaning towards a more ethnic, rhythmic sound, integrated with his now trademark melancholic guitar work and deep solemn vocals, these are the first steps to a new horizon he’s ceaselessly crafting for our listening pleasure.

In 1990 Ronald Lee Trent Jr. was the teenage creator of Altered States – a raw, futuristic techno-not-techno anthem, which in retrospect was something of a stylistic anomaly for the young artist. Across subsequent years, with time spent in Chicago, New York and Detroit, came the development of his signature sound, and renown as a world class purveyor of deep, soul infused house/garage. This story has already been told, and on casual inspection, the well-worn platitude ‘house music legend’ is an old shoe that still fits. However, in fact, he’s actually so much more, and has been for quite a while. A genuine musician, songwriter, and ‘producer’ in the proper, old-school sense, the artist today has more in common with Quincy Jones than he does your average journeyman DJ track-hack.

To those in the know, these broader skills haven’t gone unnoticed, which is why on the highly collaborative, career-topping new LP ‘What Do The Stars Say To You’, it took little persuasion to recruit serious star power. Brazilian royalty Ivan Conti and Alex Malheriros from Azymuth, violin maestro Jean Luc Ponty, ambient hero Gigi Masin, hype band Khruangbin and more performed, whilst NY cornerstone François K provided mastering duties. At various points Ron himself played drums, percussion, keys, synths, piano, guitar and electronics.

Harking back to the 70s and 80s boom in adventurous, luxurious albums, WDTSSTY is a love letter to the longplayer, where rich musicality and a liquid smooth, silky flow make seemingly odd genre bedfellows acquiesce harmoniously. Each song its own high-fidelity odyssey, Trent incorporated a broad range of live instruments and electronics into a sophisticated, euphonic whole. Described by him as being “designed for harmonising with spirit, urban life and nature”, this is aural soul food, gently easing you into balmy nights, where everything is alright.

Originally wanting to be an architect, Trent’s views his approach to collaboration and music in general as having the same principles. A firm believer in the nourishing qualities of sound, he sees direct parallels between the two disciplines, being as the purpose of good architecture is to improve quality of life. “With WARM, through sound design, I built frameworks for the musicians, who furnished and occupied these structures beautifully, which was a big compliment for me”, he comments.

The conditions required for a good collab are more than simply structural though, as Trent expounds, “I’m a huge fan of everyone on the record, especially Jean Luc and Azymuth, who’re part of my DNA. Each track was made with that guest in mind – for example, when I started writing ‘Sphere’, I immediately thought ‘this IS Ponty’. I played the keys in his style, and did a guide violin solo using a synth, which he then re-did, amazingly. ‘Cool Water’ is based around Azymuth themes, so when I sent it to Ivan, he could immediately see himself in the piece; He got what I was going for straight away. For ‘Melt Into You’ I hit up Alex on Instagram, sent him the track, he liked it, and within 24 hours he’d sent back six different bass passes!”
“Conversely, Admira began with a sketch sent by Gigi and became something combining Jon Hassell-esque chords and the feel of ‘Aquamarine’ by Carlos Santana, which links back to Masin’s recurrent nautical theme”, he adds.

With community, history and the need for racial equality never far from Ron’s mind, ‘Flos Potentia’ translates from Spanish as flower power, but rather than promoting some hippy idyll, instead it refers to plants which drove the slave trade: tobacco, sugar and cotton. Joined by Khruangbin, together they propel Dinosaur L, Hi-Tension and afrobeat into an ethereal, clear-skyed stratosphere.
Aside from these esteemed guests, other key influences cited by Trent include ‘Gigolos Get Lonely Too’ by Prince, ‘Beyond’ by Herb Alpert, David Mancuso, Jan Hammer, Tangerine Dream, The Cars, Trevor Horn, Alan Parsons Project and pre-Kraftwerk incarnation Organization. A multitude of others are audible too, including George Bension, Vangelis, Loose Ends, Maze, Flora Purim, Weather Report, Atmosphere, Grace Jones, James Mason and Brass Construction.

On the subject of influences, although opposed to the fences erected by genre tags, to understand where Ron is coming from, and where he’s at, it’s important to acknowledge just how big the palette is from which he paints. Traversing jazz funk, quiet storm, sophisti-pop, new age, new wave, kosmische, Balearic, samba, afrobeat, Latin rock, soft rock and yacht rock, his deeply entrenched digger’s knowledge pays off in dividends.

In 1990 Ronald Lee Trent Jr. was the teenage creator of Altered States – a raw, futuristic techno-not-techno anthem, which in retrospect was something of a stylistic anomaly for the young artist. Across subsequent years, with time spent in Chicago, New York and Detroit, came the development of his signature sound, and renown as a world class purveyor of deep, soul infused house/garage. This story has already been told, and on casual inspection, the well-worn platitude ‘house music legend’ is an old shoe that still fits. However, in fact, he’s actually so much more, and has been for quite a while. A genuine musician, songwriter, and ‘producer’ in the proper, old-school sense, the artist today has more in common with Quincy Jones than he does your average journeyman DJ track-hack.

To those in the know, these broader skills haven’t gone unnoticed, which is why on the highly collaborative, career-topping new LP ‘What Do The Stars Say To You’, it took little persuasion to recruit serious star power. Brazilian royalty Ivan Conti and Alex Malheriros from Azymuth, violin maestro Jean Luc Ponty, ambient hero Gigi Masin, hype band Khruangbin and more performed, whilst NY cornerstone François K provided mastering duties. At various points Ron himself played drums, percussion, keys, synths, piano, guitar and electronics.

Harking back to the 70s and 80s boom in adventurous, luxurious albums, WDTSSTY is a love letter to the longplayer, where rich musicality and a liquid smooth, silky flow make seemingly odd genre bedfellows acquiesce harmoniously. Each song its own high-fidelity odyssey, Trent incorporated a broad range of live instruments and electronics into a sophisticated, euphonic whole. Described by him as being “designed for harmonising with spirit, urban life and nature”, this is aural soul food, gently easing you into balmy nights, where everything is alright.

Originally wanting to be an architect, Trent’s views his approach to collaboration and music in general as having the same principles. A firm believer in the nourishing qualities of sound, he sees direct parallels between the two disciplines, being as the purpose of good architecture is to improve quality of life. “With WARM, through sound design, I built frameworks for the musicians, who furnished and occupied these structures beautifully, which was a big compliment for me”, he comments.

The conditions required for a good collab are more than simply structural though, as Trent expounds, “I’m a huge fan of everyone on the record, especially Jean Luc and Azymuth, who’re part of my DNA. Each track was made with that guest in mind – for example, when I started writing ‘Sphere’, I immediately thought ‘this IS Ponty’. I played the keys in his style, and did a guide violin solo using a synth, which he then re-did, amazingly. ‘Cool Water’ is based around Azymuth themes, so when I sent it to Ivan, he could immediately see himself in the piece; He got what I was going for straight away. For ‘Melt Into You’ I hit up Alex on Instagram, sent him the track, he liked it, and within 24 hours he’d sent back six different bass passes!”
“Conversely, Admira began with a sketch sent by Gigi and became something combining Jon Hassell-esque chords and the feel of ‘Aquamarine’ by Carlos Santana, which links back to Masin’s recurrent nautical theme”, he adds.

With community, history and the need for racial equality never far from Ron’s mind, ‘Flos Potentia’ translates from Spanish as flower power, but rather than promoting some hippy idyll, instead it refers to plants which drove the slave trade: tobacco, sugar and cotton. Joined by Khruangbin, together they propel Dinosaur L, Hi-Tension and afrobeat into an ethereal, clear-skyed stratosphere.
Aside from these esteemed guests, other key influences cited by Trent include ‘Gigolos Get Lonely Too’ by Prince, ‘Beyond’ by Herb Alpert, David Mancuso, Jan Hammer, Tangerine Dream, The Cars, Trevor Horn, Alan Parsons Project and pre-Kraftwerk incarnation Organization. A multitude of others are audible too, including George Bension, Vangelis, Loose Ends, Maze, Flora Purim, Weather Report, Atmosphere, Grace Jones, James Mason and Brass Construction.

On the subject of influences, although opposed to the fences erected by genre tags, to understand where Ron is coming from, and where he’s at, it’s important to acknowledge just how big the palette is from which he paints. Traversing jazz funk, quiet storm, sophisti-pop, new age, new wave, kosmische, Balearic, samba, afrobeat, Latin rock, soft rock and yacht rock, his deeply entrenched digger’s knowledge pays off in dividends.

With Plum, the songwriting partnership rooted in the creative rapport between bandleader Molly Hamilton and guitarist Robert Earl Thomas continues to expand on shared visions, delving deeper into what was always there: dusty guitars, ear-worm melodies, warm expansive arrangements. Each entry to their catalog has marked a subtle reimagining of Widowspeak's sound, though perennial points of reference remain the same: 90's dream pop, 60's psych rock, a certain unshakeable Pacific-Northwestness. Speaking to the timeless feeling of each, the albums continue to be discovered well beyond their respective PR cycles, made beloved by new listeners through word of mouth. The band's fifth album feels comfortable and lived-in: humble in structure, heavy on mood. Perhaps that came taking time off from the touring grind, instead working full-time jobs and settling into the rhythm of daily life in a small upstate New York town. Plum was recorded over a handful of weekends last winter by Sam Evian (Cass McCombs, Kazu Makino, Hannah Cohen) at his Flying Cloud studio in the Catskills, and was mixed by Ali Chant (PJ Harvey, Aldous Harding, Perfume Genius). In addition to Hamilton (vocals, guitar) and Thomas (guitars, bass, synth), it features instrumental contributions by Andy Weaver (drums), Michael Hess (piano), and Sam himself (bass, synth). Plum nestles into the band's canon like it was always there, but with new textures coming to the fore, like the polyrhythmic pulse of "Amy" and "The Good Ones", or the watery, Terry Riley-influenced track "Jeanie" Plum navigates the spaces between the lesser emotions of modern life. Hamilton's lyrics speak to the unique turmoil of anyone who creates as their work, who must somehow survive off such "fruits of their labor." Yet, Widowspeak have always made a bitter pill much easier to swallow. The majestic "Breadwinner", the luminous "Even True Love" - these songs here were made to be listened to, enjoyed. "Money" is particularly hypnotic, built around a repeating, cyclical motif that serves as both skeleton and body. "Will you get back what you put in?" Hamilton asks over an insistent guitar riff. The line is delivered with a knowingness that transcends its surface critiques of late-stage capitalism, asking both herself and the listener whether this is, in fact, the world we want to live in. Through Plum, Widowspeak have brought something into the world that seems to know its own worth, even as it wonders aloud about what is to come. What value and meaning do we assign ourselves, our time, and how do we spend it?

Life moves in cycles. As things change and morph over time, it circles back to key points and offers second chances. Volumes find themselves at such a point in 2020. After four years apart, the group—Myke Terry vocals, Raad Soudani [bass], and Nick Usich [drums]—reconvenes with original vocalist Michael Barr. In doing so, they perfect a boundary-breaking balance of guttural grooves, magnetic melodies, proficient metal, and unbridled hardcore. In essence, the guys pick right up with they left off in 2015…In 2010, Volumes burst out of the gate with The Concept of Dreaming EP. The hypnotic and hard-hitting Via [2011] and No Sleep [2014] inspired the enthusiasm of a diehard fan base. After parting ways with Barr during 2015, the band maintained its prolific output on Different Animals [2017] and the Coming Clean EP [2019]. Their total stream tally exceeded 40 million as they incited applause from Alternative Press, New Noise Magazine, Rock Sound, Metal Injection, and more.

Having already proven that he is capable of maintaining sonic quality and distinction over the course of a full original program, Chevel (a.k.a. Dario Tronchin) now makes his LP debut for Stroboscopic Artefacts. His other S.A. contributions (including the inaugural entry in the label's singular Monad series, the "One Month Off" EP, his participation to the label's five-year retrospective series) have already hinted that a more complete exposition of his unique inner world would surface, and here it is at last.

Over the course of his young career, Chevel has gained a mastery over several compositional elements: Polaroid-like slow melodic fades, sharp ricocheting beats, and simply making one's headphones feel like a viable means of physical transportation. All of these elements come into play shortly after the needle hits the grooves of (Track A1), a euphoric introductory track marked by a spectral panning sequence and by beats chopped with a culinary expert's sense of elegance. The drum kit sounds that feature throughout are used sparely but - either because of this or in spite of this - provide maximum impact upon the listener's nervous system. The almost 'far Eastern' use of 'block' percussion on (Tracks A2 and B1) perfectly complements the synthetic sheen produced by fuzz distortion, radio static and bandpass-filtered sound bites, taking us to a terrain where a palette of decay effects provides just as much aesthetic inspiration as the presence of technological advancement.

There is more than enough humor and playfulness at work here, too, helping to once again banish the persistent stereotype of the modern techno producer as a sterile technician: the queasy melody line, sliced-and-diced whistling and gelatinous bounce of (Track D2) evoke a child's wonderment at playtime more than they do the rarefied rigour of the laboratory. The less pulsating numbers like (Track C3) and the closing (Track D3) will engage the listener as well, being like short audio films of abiogenesis (i.e. spontaneous generation of life from 'non-living' material) taking place. These tracks are not so much 'interludes' or contemplative retreats from the action as they are enhancers of it, utilizing fluttering cycles of melody to engage in a kind of conversation with the more driving tracks. As to the 'driving' tracks themselves: the places that they drive the listener to are satisfyingly beyond customary experience.

In other words, despite Chevel's keeping the sonic toolkit and overall atmosphere consistent from track to track, there is a rich variety in the emotional affectivity on display here. The net effect is like a dream state that leaves strong impressions even though one can't pinpoint exactly why they are doing so (and which leaves one wanting to dive back into the dream pool and experience something similar again.) This is a talent that unifies the diverse constellation of Stroboscopic Artefacts producers, and one that makes Chevel in particular one to continue watching, listening to, and experiencing.
Wire (USA/Germany/UK) - ''Very intriguing, can/'t wait to dive in.''
Pitchfork (USA) - "Nice use of space, though do find the atmosphere a little one-note. Percussion really pops."
RBMA - "Thanks for reaching out. Having a listen now and the album sounds really good. Happy to give it a shout on RBMA Twitter whenever is best for you."
Paramount Artists (UK) - "20/10 top effort!"
NTS Radio (UK) - ''Nice IDM music with fine textures and bass frequencies..''
Groove (Germany) - ''Very interesting delicate structures. Suggested for review in Groove.''
Exclaim! (Canada) - "I like this. I'll float it to my team and I'll let you know if anyone's interested in covering it."
Big Up Magazine (USA) - "Absolutely epic album."
Vicious Magazine (Spain) - "Great sounds, for our september issue, thx a lot!"
Little White Earbuds (USA) - ''Fantastic album from Chevel. I have unfortunately been at work today without my usual headphones but even listening on very poor quality ones, the rich sonic mastery comes through. Can't wait to get home and listen to this properly.''
Cone Magazine (UK) - "Thanks for sending this through. Looks great, and always interested about a new Stroboscopic release. I'll let you know when something goes up."

H- side is etched
The American cable-television industry exploded in the 1980s, pushing broadcasts of diverse programming and emissions of low-laying cultures into homes. Community stations piggybacked on the digital developments of the time, extending their existence through telephony and broadcast a iliates. For those growing up in this time, in locations such as New York City, the localized communications beamed into their homes exposed them to an impressionable array of disparate sounds and visions.
Move into the 1990s and New York was filled to the brim of emergent cultures drawing from this ebullition of communication. From Rammellzee’s shapeshifting to the late Judy Russell and Frank and Karen Mendez’s Nu Groove imprint fusing reggae, poetry and house, nascent ideas emanated from the city walls, from within stores such as Sonic Groove store and on VHS releases such as Stakker’s The Evil Acid Baron Show, a legendary technicolor psychedelic trip along the wildest frontiers of acid house. As scenes expanded and identities developed, such individuals weather the events of the visceral now, expressing themselves right into an unpredictable future.
Function’s long career has seen him uncover a vast range of sonic identities, a mainstay through house, techno and industrial with collaborations with the likes of Regis, Damon Wild alongside his highly influential Infrastructure imprint. With influences deeply tied to pop art, rave and gay scenes, and early memories of block-parties emitting Kraftwerk and Strafe, he found himself seeking out the undercover illegal nights of the 90s on a quest of sexual unearthing, mixing the ever-yearning escapology mission of disco with the influential DJ sets of Jeff Mills.
For his new album Existenz, he marks a clear step away from the corporeal techno of his recent releases. Pivoting around themes of religion, sexuality, trauma and healing, it is a work expansive and celebratory, a clear liberation from a deeply internalized past. Formed from a collection of recordings made in a period from late 2016 to mid 2019, Existenz takes the form of a creative outburst in reaction to a number of traumas - recent, childhood and throughout Function’s life. Life partner Stefanie Parnow assisted the production process in its entirety, providing inspiration, spiritual healing and featuring vocal contributions.
Cosmic synths soar and swoop in ‘Pleasure Discipline’ through towering stacks of rhythm that stutter and creak to a halt before rebooting, a firm robotic response to human intervention. ‘Zahlensender’ reflects a spatial tetris of urban life, as digitalization set within an XYZ matrix confronts the sprawling city. Constant arpeggiated meditations echo synaptic transmissions, e ecting a dissolution of boundaries. ’The Approach’ recalls the unification of the self, a state of delirium non-subjective and smooth, as all connections and functions give way to simple intensities of feeling, crossing the threshold into spirituality. ’Golden Dawn’, featuring Stefanie Parnow, marks a further elevation of dubbed-out euphoria, as once more positive rays emerge. His ode to the effortless short-trip urban navigation 'Kurzstrecke' finds Function in motion, upfront and bold, snapshots of conversation and flickers of light. 'Ertrinken' finds metallic bass jabs swamping snipped synthetic voices, with hidden stores of emotion set as a nod to the history of vocoders as a tool for encrypted military communication. House icon Robert Owens features on 'Growth Cycle' and 'Be', entrenching a celebratory atmosphere over Function's clubwise leanings. Closing track 'Downtown 161' reflects the unmistakeable filtered and squashed interjections of television, and sampled dance vocals - a sound for the curious, dreamers and dancers.
With Existenz, Function reveals an essential body of work, spread over 4LP - thought experiments on the role of identity and spirituality after a lifetime of upheaval and trauma. Leading up until the release date, Function will undertake an album promo tour with select dates - A/V shows at Berlin Atonal and Rural festival in Japan, and three dates as part of his Bassiani residency.

Born in Majorca, Marc Melià is a composer/producer, who’s been based in Brussels for over 10 years. First spotted alongside Françoiz Breut, Lonely Drifter Karen or Borja Flames, he released Music for Prophet in 2017. It was issued on Gaspar Claus’s label Les Disques du Festival Permanent, as part of Flavien Berger’s curation.

On that first album, Marc Melià had explored the possibilities of a mythic synth; on Veus, as if sloughing, he applied the process of sound modification to his own voice, until becoming an android. But an android who sings of love and dreams, a sensitive automaton who plays with the tropes of pop music. Through this device, Marc Melià knowingly seeks poetry and beauty within transgenics, in the search of a universe where one can surf though waves of profoundly moving chord patterns, hear voices unconstrained by range limitations, or dance freely, as in zero gravity.

Part of the album has been recorded in Une ferme dans les Vosges, courtesy of Rodolphe Burger. It was recorded with Roméo Poirier, one of the most promising figures of ambient, and the elegant multi-talented Lou Rotzinger. As if progressing in parallel with his own linguistic experience, to add another layer to the sloughing, side A is sung in Catalan, Marc Melià’s mother tongue, and side B in French, his adopted language.

Like an echo to his previous album, Veus opens with an instrumental, “Pulse on a E”, which starts with a sequence created with a single note transposed to its octave, just like “Fata Fou”, the last song on Music for Prophet.

Although the title seems to reference an iconic 80s synth, “DX7” is actually about the seven days of the week. It is a love song, about the temperamental oscillations which make every morning the blank canvas of an unpredictable story. Wednesday, I hate you, Sunday, I love you. With few words and a lot of emotion, a synthetic voice is trying to grow more human each day.

“Dent de Serra” deals with the weight of memory on our relationships, but also with the way we revisit them constantly in order to integrate souvenirs within present relationships. Suddenly, the song stops and enters a new dimension, everything is different, as if what had just happened was now forgotten forever.

Oxytocin (“Oxitocines” in Catalan) is said to be the hormone of love. This song deals in a playful way with the duality between science and faith, between rational and magic, when it comes to sentimental relationships. Love is a universal theme, it is everywhere in the world, and love songs have been written for a very long time. But this particular love song is an ode to an aspect of love that has been less sung about: biology, which makes it possible to feel like you’re floating in space when you fall in love.

“Les étoiles” is a trio with Flavien Berger and Pi Ja Ma. The song is about attraction. What attracts humans to each other, but also the inevitable gravitational attraction. The song is also about accidents, magic moments that take us outside of our daily lives and give us the possibility to imagine a sidereal, infinite love.

“A propos d’une chanson” was born after Marc Melià had dreamed he had written the most beautiful song he’d ever created. When he woke up, he realized that song was actually O Superman by Laurie Anderson.

Aside from these songs, Marc Melià offers a few breaks, instrumental but no less narrative.

“Final d’hivern” conjures these quiet moments between two intense events; sleeping at night between two days; the calm that settles in after a hard winter, right before spring properly starts.

Using a musical language that clearly references Ryuichi Sakamoto, “Romain”, with its theme based on a melancholic chord pattern, could be the soundtrack to a 1970s movie lost in time. Little by little, elements that seem to come from a completely different context find their place, while turning the initial mood into something strange and unexpected.

Finally, “Retorn”, which finishes the album, is a reprise of the theme of “DX7”.

From the chords that make up a song, to the days that make up our lives, existence is but a cycle, and Veus is an exploration of them. Marc Melià keeps on drifting on his personal path, between homage to the past and visions of the future.

Liz Phair announces ‘Soberish’, her highly-anticipated new album and first collection of original
material in eleven years. Produced by Phair’s longtime collaborator Brad Wood - known for helming
Phair’s seminal albums ‘Exile In Guyville’, ‘Whip-Smart’ and ‘whitechocolatespaceegg’ - ‘Soberish’ is
released via Chrysalis Records.
Almost thirty years since her peerless debut album ‘Exile In Guyville’ was released (voted #56 in
Rolling Stone’s 2020 list of the 500 Greatest albums Of All Time), Phair returns with a new record that
will both intrigue and satisfy her long-standing fans and introduce her to a smart young audience
whose contemporary heroes have been reading from Phair’s playbook since they first picked up a
guitar.
Liz Phair has achieved the kind of status in her industry rarely bestowed on recording artists. Her
albums in the 1990s were central to the indie rock canon of the day. Her image was featured in
countless magazines, early Apple commercials and Gap ads. Her eponymous album for Capitol
Records in 2003 took Phair in a pop direction that ruffled some critics’ feathers but nonetheless went
gold, galvanizing a host of new fans, particularly among young women who fell in love with hits like
‘Why Can’t I’ and ‘Extraordinary’, tracks that were featured in several major films and TV shows,
including 13 Going On 30, Raising Helen and How To Deal. Liz has picked up two Grammy
nominations and a spot in Pitchfork’s Greatest Albums Of The 90s, with over five million record sales
to date (including three US gold albums). She sang ‘God Bless America’ at the opening game of the
Chicago White Sox World Series victory in her hometown in 2005.
‘Soberish’ is a portrait of Phair in the present tense, taking all of the facets of her melodic output over
the years and synthesizing them into a beautiful, perfect whole. She’s at the top of her game in the
recording studio, drawing upon years of experience in television composition to weave through the
songs daring and unexpected sound design. With Brad Wood’s exquisite engineering and masterful
production, the result is a wholly fresh yet satisfyingly familiar sound that challenges on the first listen
and seduces with each subsequent play through. The earworms are strong with this one.
Phair says, “I found my inspiration for ‘Soberish’ by delving into an early era of my music development,
my art school years spent listening to Art Rock and New Wave music non-stop on my Walkman. The
English Beat, The Specials, Madness, R.E.M.s Automatic for the People, Yazoo, The Psychedelic
Furs, Talking Heads, Velvet Underground, Laurie Anderson, and the Cars. The city came alive for me
as a young person, the bands in my headphones lending me the courage to explore.”
None of the arrangements on Soberish are traditional songwriting standards but the hooks are so
catchy, the imagery so compelling, that the listener is drawn effortlessly along with the music. There
are the off-kilter, unexpected guitar chords listeners will recognize as her signature style, a mainstay
from her earliest work; the instantly knowable choruses of her most pop-friendly songs of the early
2000s; the frank lyricism and storytelling that has opened doors for countless women picking up
guitars and attempting to speak about their experiences.
Phair shares insight into the meaning of her title: “‘Soberish’ can be about partying. It can be about
self-delusion. It can be a about chasing that first flush of love or, in fact, any state of mind that allows
you to escape reality for a while and exist on a happier plane. It’s not self-destructive or out of control;
it’s as simple as the cycle of dreaming and waking up. That’s why I chose to symbolize ‘Soberish’ with
a crossroads, with a street sign. It’s best described as a simple pivot of perspective. When you meet
your ‘ish’ self again after a period of sobriety, there’s a deep recognition and emotional relief that
floods you, reminding you that there is more to life, more to reality and to your own soul than you are
consciously aware of. But if you reach for too much of a good thing, or starve yourself with too little,
you’ll lose that critical balance.”

Just when you thought every loner folk genius had been outed/discovered, hyped, and pontificated about, a new/old challenger lurks in the murky depths of time...and Maine. Sure, you have your Skip Spences, Dave Bixbys, Stone Harbours, and Perry Leopolds already, but have you heard the lonesome sound of Bill Stone? Well, don't feel bad or "unkool", hardly anyone has--unless you lived in rural Maine in the early 70s and grabbed his barely-ever seen LP in the day. Titled simply Stone, Bill's mysterious album was pressed in the micro-est of quantities, covering wistful, airy psychedelia on par with the UK's Mark Fry's classic Dreaming of Alice, while still evoking the earthy, evening-hour melancholy of Leonard Cohen or Tom Rapp. Stone was also especially influenced by one Donny P. Leitch, one Robby Zimmerman, and much trad folk, while growing up in his hometown of Old Town, Maine. Stone started out playing in a few small folk ensembles while also moonlighting with occasional solo gigs, finally recording this lone platter in 1969 in a pottery studio (!?) on a 2-track Panasonic tape recorder in Boothbay, Maine (where he says, they competed with a cat in heat). The LP features Tom Blackwell/Bill Stone-guitars, Arthur Webster-bass, Bob Blackwell/Skip Smith-drums, Bill/Beth Waterhouse on vocals. It also seems cover artist Doug Bane went on to become an acclaimed cosmic painter--committing loads of animals, psychedelic scenes, and Native American portraits to canvas, who knew? But we digress--anyhow, seems Stone's solo career slowed down after marriage hit, and he transitioned to playing covers in bars for cash, but after acquiring a masters and doctorate in education, he moved into the teaching walk of life. Bill published books and articles on subjects as diverse as school counseling and chaos theory--but now retired, he's returned to music, even recording a new album of originals and traditional numbers, based on his experiences as a cab driver (another wrinkle in the Stone Saga we must hear more of someday - but for now check out). So with Bill back in action and the world slowly crawling out of a disillusioning haze, now seems like the perfect time for a first-time-ever reissue of this incredibly rare, happy-sad, gently delicate, Stone(d) classic of a downer song-cycle.

BLACK vinyl with deluxe origami fold out sleeve & obi strip & DL Card. CD Wallet. The third album from Dutch punk-laced noiseniks adds new maturity and a conceptual feel that pulls the extremes of their sound together. A psyche-fuelled journey into the id punctuated with rhythmic kabuki modal mood swings, thunderstorms, digital beeps, traffic noise, and just plain old beautiful cacophonous reverb-drenched sound when needed. The 'third chapter' refers to the last five years that the Dutch band have spent creating their "difficult" third album. Each song spins a yarn; there are plagues, dreams, wind and fire, 'mythical' characters, and the search for the secret government warehouse. Lead single, Tokyo Music Experience, resonates with a conveyor belt-propelled modal guitar, reflecting the halcyon days of Japanese super-productivity; a mesmerising mantra, infected with news bulletin on-the-hour bleeps underlining its time-sensitive nature; a pristine super-commercial anthem to drive loyalty and reinforce solidarity with the party! Having been described as creating "underground noise with a bracing, warped pop appeal" (Mojo), their new album is a coming-of-age post-classic with a unique worldview - inspired by Van Dyke Parks (Song Cycle) Scott Walker (3 & 4), Moondog (Elpmas), White Noise (An Electric Storm) and Beach Boys (Smile). If their previous effort (Tape Hiss) was their very own sketch of a sketch for an incomplete concept album, a noisy reaction to their previous life, then 'Excerpts From Chapter 3..', with all its interlaced intricacies, is the realisation of their transition from punk-spiked-pop to psyche-pop protagonists. Evolving, testing, infectious...

"21" is the well-crafted, sharp and original first album by the duo HILA, composed by American cellist Artyom Manukyan (who already worked with Kamasi Washington, Daedalus, Flying Lotus, Run DMC, Gretchen Parlato, Raphael Saadiq, Clive Lowe Mark...) and french producer Dawatile.

The combination of jazz, Los Angeles beat-scene and the vibrations of 80s and 90s Soviet Armenia make it a striking and unprecedented fusion. These kind of nostalgic and unconventional references forcefully shake the codes of mainstream culture to create a sincere, raw and intimate expression.

"HILA" was born from a spontaneous and intense creative impulse between Artyom Manukyan, a Los Angeles-based Armenian celloist and his partner in crime, David Kiledjian aka Dawatile, a French multi-instrumentist of Armenian descent. This project is proving to be a true master stroke given that it only took 21 days for the duo to make it a reality.

"HILA" was made in less a moon cycle but captivates and electrifies audiences upon its first outings. "H.I.L.A" colors the warmth of the Californian "High" with Armenian vibes. The artists chose this name for their creation since both have a close and valuable connection to these locales. This journey began in 2007, on the day Dawatile went to Yerevan, the capital of this small country in the Caucasus mountain to realize a first fusion project centered around local folkloric music genres.

There he was introduced to local musicians including the Armenian Navy Band, one of the country's foremost groups in which Artyom played the bass and cello. In this context, he also met many musicians such as Tigran Hamasyan and Norayr Kartashyan. This will be the beginning of connections between Lyon, Yerevan and Los Angeles. The following year, the two artists will be be seen performing next to Taylor Mc Ferrin at the Jazz à Vienne festival. More recently, they partnered up again when the cellist, who had freshly relocated in California, invited Dawatile to produce his album. As soon as the studio’s threshold was crossed, they decided to postpone this record and create a joint project: Hay (as the Armenians call themselves) / High In Los Angeles. HILA was born at the end of these 21 days of intense creation. The association of Artyom Manukyan and Dawatile is the combination of two visions, two versions of Armenia, two personalities, the reunion of the Eastern and Western blocs.

One grew up nurtured by the sounds of hip-hop and jazz in Europe and the other by art music and Russian-influenced 1980s Armenian folkloric music before moving to L. A., Ca. The cornerstone of it all, the glue that unites everything : Armenia and music. They generate a new identity synthesizing two perceptions, their complicity transcending these cultural discrepencies. To achieve this, they will scour through images of Artyom’s childhood, within the popular culture of Soviet Armenia. Together, they revisit this decidedly retro vibe, based on the work of Caucasian groups inspired by African American music. This background is rehashed and fused with ancestral Armenian sounds. The DNA of the album "21" is molded by these dear influences.

We can also hear the ancestral sounds of Armenia, a country at the edges of both Europe and Asia. The presence on two tracks of Armenian music Master Norayr Kartashyan, infuses the languor of past melodies and traditions. These purposeful anachronistic sounds offer a fantastic depth to this powerful opus. Listening to the album, one can appreciate the successful fusion of styles and influences. Those combinations, however, manage to preserve individual identities only to enhance the art through an adamant musical dialogue.

Being driven by the urge to transpose Armenian musical traditions into a unique universe, the daring artists, offer an innovative combination by blending, for the first time, these ancestral sounds with the world of Los Angeles beat-scene and jazz. An invention largely fueled by the magic strings of Artyom and maestro Miguel Atwood-Ferguson, a pillar of the genre in Los Angeles combined. These associations resonate with a triumphant equilibrium. HILA is musical uncharted territory in which Artyom's cello strings intertwine to ignite the harmonies of keyboards, the machines, the vocals and electronic layers Dawatile pieced together. HILA plays the soundtrack of an adventure set between Armenia around the end of the Soviet era and a mysterious near future.

Artyom Manukyan grew up in Armenia in the 90s. At the time, he studied Russian classical music while learning jazz with assistance by his father, a music journalist. Being an unconditional music lover, he went on to sharpen his skills at the prestigious Berkelee College of Music. Subsequently, he’s been lucky enough to travel the world touring with numerous acts and mainly with the Armenian Navy Band. The group has fostered alacritous success honored by a BBC Award as a crowning achievement. He moved on 10 years ago and made his way to L.A. with his cello on his back. In the City of Angels, he quickly became a popular figure of the jazz and hip-hop scenes thanks to his first album "Citizen". He’s accompanied prestigious musicians such as Kamasi Washington, Melody Gardot, Daedalus, Flying Lotus, Run DMC, Gretchen Parlato, Raphael Saadiq, Clive Lowe Mark, or Vulfpeck. He released his solo album on the cello, "Alone" in October 2019.

Dawatile is a bold producer and multi-instrumentist as well as a passionate and resolute musician molded by jazz. As a versatile artist, he handles and juggles the saxophone, the keys, the bass and composition. Simultaneously, Dawatile produces cross-over projects and soundtracks for the movie industry. He, as well, has had the opportunity to be a part of many tours, including with his electro hip-hop band, Fowatile and more recently with the "Future Kreyol" trio, Dowdelin. Being the ever workaholic, he has under his belt a string of prestigious collaborations with the likes of Talib Kweli, Foreign Beggars, Roy Ayers, Tigran Hamasyan, Mathieu Boogaerts, Voodoo Game and Piers Faccini. His taste for developing new musical recipes and his know-how in production make him a much sought-after album producer. In concert, the HILA duo offers a sober, precise and rhythmic performance. "21" is an aerial and lively album taking the audience on an at times joyous and sometimes melancholic dreamlike journey. The magic of "HILA" operates at the speed of light and positions it already as an avoidable group.

Klein's offbeat singular vision continues to defy classification. Her acclaimed, self-released records – Lagata, Only and CC – along with Tommy for Hyperdub and her theatre musical Care, have allowed glimpses into Klein's uniquely spirally perspective on vocal abstraction, disarming experimentalism and pop culture wonderment. Yet these chapters have also served as masks to conceal the artist's own personal crises of self-belief, misrepresentation and belonging.

An 18-month writing process led to her new album Lifetime. It's an unexpectedly literal body of work which Klein compares to "giving someone your diary." Lifetime embraces the inevitable cycles of existence, phasing through moments of brutality, vulnerability, estrangement and unexpected fortitude. Lifetime embraces the inevitable cycles of existence, phasing through moments of brutality, vulnerability, estrangement and unexpected fortitude. Every sound in Lifetime is intentional, every influence—from 'King of Gospel Music' composer James Cleveland, to early 18th century tonalities in the b side, the work of 'race film' pioneer Spencer Williams, the residue of the religious experience is deeply personal. The 12 songs of the album are pieced together like a puzzle; seamless transitions connect each of its compositions in a reverse chronology, while every chord from every song is echoed someplace else.

What's been hinted at in Klein's live performances is now realised in full for Lifetime. Less vocal work allows her to be even more expressive, and in eschewing a tendency towards brief, truncated sketches, each song serves as its own long conversational piece, committed to realities of a lived experience. The artist who once grappled with self-doubt has set about breaking the cycle of insecurity for others like her, while mindfully chipping away at the conventions of classical music.

Like its artwork, Lifetime addresses intersecting life cycles: the inner and outer selves, hypermodernity versus history, living nightmares and dream states, while seeking the light and darkness in both. Part 1 opens with unmistakable Klein flourishes on the title track. Gusty pads, anxious, frayed-edge static arcs, and craters of deep negative space, all of which melt down to the clean slate of "Claim It," which is a tribute to embracing one's own blessings. "Listen And See As They Take" and "Silent" form their own microcosm, as the sound of crackling kindling burns backwards into imposing structures of distorted strings and disembodied marching drums, before returning to heat and ash again. "For What Worth", in collaboration with sound artist and saxophonist Matana Roberts, explores the kinship between two artists whose shared exploration of lineage leads them both toward uncharacteristically sweet clarity.

Part 2 is further steeped in black expressive styles of the past. "Enough is enough" links the Lifetime narrative to the broader diasporic black experience, inhabiting every chamber of a harmonica with ghostly notes of the present and past, as fragmented gospel chords reflect spiritual bonds between self and the divine. "We Are Almost There" begins the journey with nothing but the looped structures of multitude of voices. The drums and dischord of "Never Will I Disobey" wordlessly create the conditions for "Honour," a near 10-minute composition where crossed boundaries and crossed wires are exposed in real time, and sharp expressions of hurtfulness, accountability and corrupted expectations are rendered beautiful in representational form, via sustained synth tones which hum, jab and flit in natural disharmony. The interlude "Camelot Is Coming" draws on the choir tradition to prelude the spoken word recounts the cycles of trauma and death that form "99." Lifetime closes with the dystopian swirl of "Protect My Blood" a composition which details an excruciating rift, before blooming into serenity as it draws to a close.

Klein's Lifetime is laid bare, from the end to the beginning, and cycled over again. From her place within her family, to their place within her, to viewing the fragility of culture through the lens of memory. It's a lifetime, an embodiment of young livelihood, and an end as much it is a beginning.

Auke Riemersma (aka Aux Tha Masterfader). Erio Simonini and Gilberto Caleffi (aka Disco Doubles). Together this partnership from The Netherlands and Italy form Light Cycles, a trio raised on sci-fi sound tracks and smouldering synth anthems. These influences are omnipresent in the group's debut 12': Flowing. Addictively catchy hooks and clean beats are central to the Light Cycles' sound with their dazzling melodies glimmering across the 12'. Elements of disco are folded into these spirited compositions as this forward-looking triumvirate marry past inspirations with a hope-filled future. Seamless radiance. Simply put, Flowing.