Buscar:drone

Too Rough 4 Radio debuts their vinyl compilation with an electric assortment of soundscapes comprising of Florian's glittery disco tune with a tangy twist on 'Keep On', Littlelake's lush transient deep house number on 'Lionel', Clocked Devices scattered drone zooming across the cosmos on 'Intergalactic' and all rounded by Lootbeg & Blinds crunchy heady-topper on 'FuzzyLogic' .

Mannequin's 100th - a comp looking forward featuring an international and serious cast... BIG TIP!
The modern synthwave scene would be significantly poorer without the keen ear and tireless efforts of the Mannequin label run by Alessandro Adriani. Geographically situated within the nerve centers of Rome and Berlin, yet with a musical spirit that easily transcends these boundary lines, Mannequin's back catalog has been an important component in the modular assemblage that makes up electronics-based independent music in the 21st century, and an important reference point for those who need to defend against the lazy accusations that this such is purely retro' in its form and content. Recent accolades and accomplishments - being named Resident Advisor's label of the month' for May of this year, starting the 'Death of the Machines' 12' series, and being given the 'green light' for bi-monthly parties at the Säule room in Berghain - have been earned through Mannequin's unflagging commitment to sonic diversity and Adriani's own realization that the anxious and sharp-edged sounds associated with, say, the Cold War of the 1980s can convey a completely different message today. Adriani says it best when claiming that there is no such thing as 'old' or 'new' music...only the music of now'. With this cogent statement of intent, Mannequin continues to go on exploratory missions to find the best and most relevant aspects of genres like acid, industrial, EBM, post-punk, coldwave and still more.

Which brings us to Mannequin's newest project and 100th release overall: the Waves of the Future double LP compilation, which itself is not a conventional retrospective collection. Case in point - none of the artists appearing on this collection have put out their own releases on Mannequin yet, despite acting as Mannequin's unofficial ambassadors (via DJ sets and other means). This makes the set even more compelling rather than less so, since it shows how Mannequin fits into a larger picture that includes other scene leaders and label owners including Beau Wanzer, Willie Burns (WT Records), Silent Servant (Jealous God) and Ron Morelli (L.I.E.S.). Of equal importance is how Waves of the Future projects a sense of aesthetic resilience and continuity, showcasing just how well the current artists allied with Mannequin employ and re-interpret the sonic lexicon that appears on that label's reissues of 'classic' acts such as Nocturnal Emissions, Bourbonese Qualk, Din A Testbild and Doris Norton.

However, none of this would matter as much if the music itself didn't have strong potential for lighting a blaze in the dark corners of the human imagination, and of course for forcing bodies into motion. Each track here pivots around a couple of key sound elements that seem to set the stage for the next track to come: see the sputtering / chopped ghost voices on Morelli's Charges Won't Stick,' which easily informs the slicing drone and authoritarian beat of Shawn O' Sullivan's Ill Fit,' which then lays down the emotional foundation for the sequencer-powered With You' from An-I & Adriani or the glassy landscape of Illum Sphere's Exhaustion'. Elsewhere, the wired mischief of Not Waving intersects easily with the spherical electro-funk and coded commands of Beau Wanzer. When all the disparate parts of Waves of the Future are soldered together, it perfectly illustrates Mannequin's non-linear philosophy and Adriani's suggestion that Mannequin listeners directly engage with the music rather than trying too hard to analyze or dissect it.

A warehouse jive for number 5 on Running Back's Misfit Melodies series. Introducing new artist and shrinking violet Pistachio, 'Ilox' cuts house music out of a techno cloth and vice versa. One of three direct cuts between chord memories, distant voices and space echoes, complemented by a drone piece for the times before, after and in-between. Classic soundscapes with a modern drive. Nutritious as a nut.

recorded and produced by christina nemec in vienna and horner wald 2016
mastered and cut at dubplates & mastering, berlin 2017

artwork by susi klocker

On her latest release, chra aka Christina Nemec is sketching out a psychogeographical map, that guides you to the border of the internal and external world - 'on a fateful morning' lets you enter a sphere where the imaginary and the subliminal cross. Evoking abstract images that transcend reality, chra installs an autarchic time-and-space-continuum of vague, nocturnal beauty. Pastose bass drones, airy ambient synths and processed audio-samples form a hypnotic stream that lets you enter an altered state of mind. By subtly intertwining musical and non musical sounds chra is weaving an intensely atmospheric, poetic tableau of emptied spaces left to our imagination. It's the pulse of arcane memories that is filling these sonic landscapes, operating deep within our subconscious.

'on a fateful morning' is haunting music to play in the dark - conspirative, uncanny, with a dystopian smack.

We welcome our very own Kessell to Pole Group Recordings, being a pivotal part of the Spanish techno scene with his project Exium with Hector Sandoval, he runs his label Granulart curating the repertoire with the best producers out there. Now is time for his debut as a solo artist with this four tracker, including three original tracks and a Reeko remix.

First cut is Cloned motions, a relentless number made of an obsessive sequence that runs over a percussive sea of sharp elements that grow in space with reverberated washes and a continuous arrangement. A mental exercise.

Chains of abstraction goes more bleepy, with a low filtered start that soon is filled with cosmic sinoidal sequences running all over the track while drums mutate and take turns to add an alien groove to the overal feel.

B side track one is for Reeko, remixing Sensorium, opaque kick drums, subtle sequences and white noise drones combine their movements in a dense exercise that fills every possible frequencies in the sound spectrum.

The original mix of Sensorium is based on bell like fm synth lines, lots of reverb, noise crescendos and an hypnotic groove below to keep things movable.

A precission work from the hands of a veteran expert producer.

Jel Ford kicks off his return EP with two tracks of clean big room techno. The title track 'Backyard' is a moody affair with a low drone throughout that is complimented with layered synth stabs.
Using reverb to create atmosphere within the track it subtly breaks down before a vocal hook transcends the track to deliver a killer blow. 'Meeting of Minds' is dubbier and uses a tripped out synth to add rhythm whilst working alongside a synth pattern to keep the track chugging along.
The slow evolving pads add texture and keep the track nicely filled out whilst this timeless classic keeps on givin

MTY-3.14 “π”, released on March 14, 2026, is the fifth and final chapter of a journey begun fifteen years ago.



This standard edition presents the final form of Polar Inertia across three 12" vinyl records, featuring 11 tracks. Nothing added, nothing removed—only the music, unfolding in full.



Images dissolve, words fall away. What remains are faint echoes, like footprints slowly erased in fresh snow.



This final opus does not close the path. It fades into it. π is not an ending, but a state: the moment where movement continues, even as the world turns silent.



A last step.
A final trace.
Still moving, beneath the cold.



POLAR INERTIA



We are no one because we want to be no one,
And to be no one we have to be everywhere and nowhere- Polar Inertia examines the enigmatic and blurry realms, embracing the art of obscured vision.


Encountering the collective Polar Inertia is much like being absorbed by fog and captivated by its ever-shifting forms and densities, with things being as indistinguishable as in a whiteout.



Formed in 2010 by a group of artists, Polar Inertia transcends visibility, delving into structures that lie beyond the public gaze. Layers upon layers intertwine within the fabric of Polar Inertia, extending beyond their profound electronic compositions and live performances. It manifests as a conceptual universe, where sound, monochrome aesthetics, and elusive narratives converge, much like trying to grasp the intangible fog. The entity that is Polar Inertia is involved in installations, print- and video work and texts created for different contexts and live in different spheres such as Palais de Tokyo in Paris or the Lyon Biennale of Contemporary Art. Still, clubs and festivals are perfect spaces to experience these nebulous soundworlds and immerse in them. Fittingly, some of Polar Inertia’s appearances include the colossal halls of Berghain and Bassiani and at experimental festivals like Mutek Montreal and Atonal Berlin, that like to break with the classic club conventions.



Polar Inertia's sonic landscape unfolds with wafting textures accompanied by resonating beats and drones, reverberating through empty spaces, merging with the vast expanse of nothingness. Their sound exists at the crossroads of ambient, experimental, and deep techno, interwoven with vocal narratives. Since their inaugural release “Indirect Light“ on Dement3d Records in 2011, they remain a stronghold of relevance and captivation in the electronic domain.



Mastered by sixbitdeep, with artistic direction by Diplomatie Studio.

K Wata is a producer based out of New York City

New “Inversions” of drone rock pioneers Earth’s debut release. A collaboration between Dylan Carlson and Black Noi$e (Armand Hammer, Danny Brown, Earl Sweatshirt) formed in mutual respect and appreciation for one another. Both artists were intrigued by the creation of vast musical landscapes and the connection of music, with its ability to transport the listener. The music of Earth was recognised and celebrated for moving at a glacial pace and yet this new collaboration surprisingly saw Black Noi$e slowing things down even further.
The debut, which originally came out in 1991, notably featured Kelly Canary and Kurt Cobain on vocals on the tracks “A Bureaucratic Desire for Revenge Part 2” and “Divine and Bright”. Black Noi$e reimagines the original recordings with his experimental sensibility and innovative multi-instrumental, cross genre exploration. Applying contemporary electronics to the heavy droning bass and guitars and languid rhythms, this inversion oscillates and reverberates with a different kind of energy whilst simultaneously highlighting the much loved low slow and distorted properties of the original.

‘Extra Capsular Extraction’ was the first music Dylan made with Earth and his first time in a recording studio, which he recalls at the time as being “terribly exciting”. It also marked the first time collaborating with others and seeing it reified into a tangible object or product, a spirit that Dylan has carried through to the present. The original album is a document of a specific period and Dylan’s creative development. These inversions of Extra Capsular Extraction are, to quote Dylan, “an exciting way to reintegrate them into the present time and with my more expanded conceptions of musical endeavours”.
"Doom-metal innovators" Pitchfork.

"With guitars ramped up to the nth degree, but tuned to gut-wrenchingly low frequencies, Earth carved out a veritable canyon of pure molten drone, one which would have a profound influence on modern metal music." The Quietus

Devotional music most often gets distilled into earthy chants and ancient folklore, it doesn't always ascend to the sky like Julinko’s ‘Naebula’ an album that from the first organ note clearly trades in terrestrial dreams for ethereal visions. A feverish quality permeates the whole record, as if a ritualistic performance was being captured from start to finish, a collection of hallucinatory doom, synthetic neo-folk hymns and ghostly art-rock.

Julinko, stage name for Giulia Parin Zecchin, has long been one of the best kept secrets of the experimental community in North-East Italy, with three records that helped define her unique blend of heavy psychedelia, slowcore and dark ambient. On ‘Naebula’ what really stands out is how powerful and soaring her voice is, a weapon of undeniable force that can transform into a vessel of raw fervour or glide effortlessly as a delicate lament. Her unconventional approach shines through on tracks like ‘Jeanne De Rien’, where a marching pulse acts as a pillar for an extended mantra, almost verging into powwow territory. ‘Peace Of The Unsaid’ uses its arrhythmical structure to create space, a crepuscular night ode that reaches the heights of Sinead O’Connor’s most intimate force-fulness while retaining a sweet composure. Whether it’s glacial murderous shrieks or gospel-esque vitality, songs like ‘Cloudmachine’ or ‘Kiss The Lion’s Tongue’ seem to draw as much from a tradition of European minimalism, the use of drones and repetition, to the tradition of folksongs as hymns, where modal harmonies make way for an apparent stasis. Another key element in Julinko’s songwriting is the seamless blend of her minimalistic approach with these dense textures borrowed from a distant outsider metal heritage, Lynchean noir on steroids or wordless exorcisms with deep undercurrents.

Ten years after their last collaboration, Jacques Duvall and Benjamin Schoos return with Plein Sommeil, a duo album that is at once melancholic, ironic, and tender—a poetic mirror of the fatigue of the modern world.

The legendary lyricist for Lio, Chamfort, and Daho meets the indie pop producer and sonic adventurer of Freaksville, in a generational union as improbable as it is natural.
Between Brussels and Paris, they weave songs about slowness, worn-out love, and resistance through gentleness.

Blending original compositions and delicate covers (The Kinks, Higelin, Daho), the album evokes a sensual and lucid refuge amid the overheating of everyday life.
Recorded with Bertrand Burgalat, The Loved Drones, and lush string arrangements, Plein Sommeil embraces a handcrafted, timeless aesthetic.

Its motto: “Slow business” — a manifesto against the speed and emptiness of contemporary times.

Each song, balancing irony and elegance, celebrates fragility and humanity.

London quartet The Leaf Library return with their bold new album After The Rain, Strange Seeds. A luminous collection of pastoral indiepop, drawing inspiration from suburban isolation, unreliable memories and the surreality of the weather. Their most immediate and melodic work to date, the richly evocative songs brim with chiming guitars, buzzing organs and warm, dulcet strings, evoking Yo La Tengo’s more contemplative moments, The Clientele’s autumnal jangle pop and early Stereolab’s motorik melodicism. The sound of the album is defined by mixer John McEntire, whose work with Stereolab and Yo La Tengo (as well as a member of Tortoise/The Sea And Cake) have been major inspirations to the band.
The album explores themes of memory and place, albeit through an abstract haze – returning again and again to specific moments frozen in time: midsummer bright hot days in the Chilterns (“Sun In My Room”), meteorology and the strange movement of the weather (“Colour Chant”), red kites circling over suburban motorways (“Some Circling”), and the uncanny feeling of dusk and nighttime creatures on “The Reader’s Lamp” (titled by celebrated film director Peter Strickland). The lyrics are vivid yet elliptical, strung with abstract ideas and imagery, conjuring a gently unsettling, though never unwelcoming atmosphere. Not quite trusting your own recollection of things, while marvelling at the oddness of the natural world, the album’s title a good summation of the mix of strangeness and hope contained within.

As on past albums the band - founded by singer Kate Gibson and ex-Saloon guitarist Matt Ashton in the mid 2000s, and now completed by drummer Lewis Young and bassist Gareth Jones - have involved their extended musical family, including guitarist Mike Cranny (of fellow drone pop travellers Firestations) and keyboardist Irina Shtreis, both members of the Leaf Library live band. The album also sees the return of James Underwood’s Iskra Strings, a quartet that features on 4 tracks, with sumptuous arrangements by Daniel Fordham, as well as regular contributor Melinda Bronstein on vocals and Will Twynham (Dimorphodons) on harpsichord. They also welcomed Paddy Milner (on Hammond organ) and Scott McKeon (guitar) – both current members of Tom Jones’ band – for a startlingly delicate rolling crescendo to closing track “There Was Always A Golden Age”.
After The Rain, Strange Seeds is their 4th studio album. The result is The Leaf Library’s most accomplished and affecting work, John McEntire’s mix bringing a bold clarity to the band’s meticulous arrangements – closer to how they sound live than anything they’ve done before.

The first resonant space Zosha Warpeha played in was the Emanuel Vigeland Museum in Oslo, Norway. Built as a mausoleum, its walls reach up into a gradual archway, creating an environment where sound expands and reverberates for twelve seconds before decaying into silence. Warpeha was greeted only by dim lights when she entered, and it wasn’t until she had spent several minutes listening that she was able to make out the frescoes that covered every inch of the room: graphic depictions of the cycle of life from conception through death. As the sound of her Hardanger d’amore encountered the walls and these slowly emerging scenes, they obscured its point of origin in both time and space, augmenting its own life cycle. The experience sat in the back of her mind over the next several years as she developed her own patient style of composition and performance, one that comes into full bloom on her new album I grow accustomed to the dark.

When Warpeha was selected as an artist in residence at Brooklyn’s ISSUE Project Room in 2025, she saw it as an opportunity to more intentionally explore how her music might fill a room with ample natural reverb. I grow accustomed to the dark documents two single-take solo performances for Hardanger d’amore and voice at IPR, with both pieces composed in a unique tuning system developed to interact with the space itself. Listeners can trace resonance from the contact of the bow on gut strings into the body of the instrument, its five sympathetic strings offering another layer of refraction, before the sound is thrown about the cavity of the room. The echoes emerge like a photographic double exposure, or wisps of smoke that linger in the air, creating ghostly harmonic convergences that blur the line between what is there and not-there. Sound begins to act like light, a synesthetic alchemy that transforms drones into beams and ornamental trills into flickers.

Both side-long compositions, “filament” and “visual purple,” exemplify a duality that animates Warpeha’s music: an expressive, individualistic style that draws on extensive knowledge of her instrument’s history in folk traditions, and an austere, devotional quality maintained by focus and precision. Though very different in character and structure, both pieces evolve slowly through numerous repetitive phrases, passages of stillness, and bursts of intensity. “filament” opens with a cycle of delicate melodic fragments played and sung around a drone before blossoming into an outpouring of swooping arpeggios, harmonics flying from the strings like sparks off a bonfire. The disorienting pulsation of harmonic beating forms the core of “visual purple,” the close-tone dissonance building to a swarm of open strings ringing boldly throughout the space. After the knotty tones reach their climax, the piece collapses into studied quietude, hushed, but without any drop in intensity.

When Warpeha first visited the Vigeland Museum in 2019, she was in Oslo to deepen her relationship to the Hardanger fiddle through the study of Norwegian traditional music, which is primarily passed down aurally. The experience of learning songs by ear, not only internalizing the tune but also absorbing the techniques and tonalities by listening, was a crucial step in her development as a composer. The years since have seen her sharpen those skills as a prolific member of the New York avant-garde and improvised music communities. Warpeha’s music encourages listeners to join her in this journey, to listen closely with each repeated phrase and through each dramatic shift. Like the frescoes on Vigeland’s walls, with time and intention, the depth of I grow accustomed to the dark comes on like a revelation.

Für Chantal Michelle ist das Komponieren von Musik wie eine Art Choreografie. In surrealen Klangwelten verbinden sich verschiedene Töne miteinander - sie bewegen sich zusammen und entfernen sich dann wieder voneinander - in einem Prozess, der sich ständig im Hörfeld wiederholt. Diese sich ständig verändernde Konstellation zeigt, wie zerbrechlich und veränderlich Wahrnehmung sein kann, ein Thema, das in Michelles Arbeit immer wieder auftaucht. Michelle, die schon früh eine Tanzausbildung absolvierte, bringt eine ausgeprägte räumliche Sensibilität in ihre Arbeit ein: ein intuitives Verständnis dafür, wie Formen koexistieren und sich durch drei Dimensionen bewegen, sowie eine Wertschätzung für die Schönheit, die sich in ungewöhnlichen Gegenüberstellungen von Materialien und Ideen findet. Seit sie 2021 ihre Solokarriere gestartet hat, hat sie internationale Anerkennung für ihre geduldigen, akribischen Aufnahmen bekommen, die oft zusammen mit Installationen, Mehrkanalkompositionen und Klangskulpturen entstehen. Innerhalb dieser subtil verwirrenden Klangarchitekturen können neue Beziehungen entstehen, neue Grenzen gezogen werden, und die Zuhörer werden zu einer Erfahrung von Zeit eingeladen, die sich der Linearität widersetzt. All Things Might Spill, Michelles erstes Album für Shelter Press, ist eine Auseinandersetzung mit anhaltender Spannung und der mysteriösen Erfahrung der Zeitdehnung in den Momenten kurz vor einem Bruch oder Zusammenbruch. Die Musik bewegt sich in einem Raum der Instabilität, und obwohl sie durchgehende Töne und definierte melodische Phrasen verwendet, herrscht eine Atmosphäre der Unentschlossenheit - wie ein Moment der Unruhe, der auf unbestimmte Zeit in der Schwebe bleibt. Ein Großteil des Albums wurde in den Wintermonaten 2024 in Berlin aufgenommen, wobei viele frühe Morgenstunden in einem Raum subtiler Unruhe verbracht wurden. Man sagt, dass Licht in die Dunkelheit eindringt, und diese Übergangszeit, die von Erwartungen geprägt ist, ist in der Musik zu hören. In ,Presence of Border" winden und verflechten sich nebulöse Stimmen, während sie über mehrdeutigen Harmonien schweben, die sich in unendliche Ferne zu erstrecken scheinen. Die beiden kurzen Stücke ,Magnetic Field I" und ,Magnetic Field II" enthalten bearbeitete Aufnahmen einer Tromba Marina, gespielt von der argentinischen Klangkünstlerin Alma Laprida. Die Gegenüberstellung von kratzigen Tönen und hauchzarten Obertönen erzeugt tamburaähnliche Drones, die den Zuhörer in einen schwer fassbaren Mittelpunkt ziehen. Später auf dem Album gibt es in ,Drying of Frozen Soils" modale Klarinettenlinien von Severin Black, die anfangs in dem nebligen, synthetischen Hintergrund fast nicht zu hören sind, bevor sie sich zu einem gespenstischen Kontrapunkt entwickeln. Eine ähnliche Struktur aus Unklarheit und Klarheit prägt den Titeltrack, in dem wortlose Gesänge eine laute Feldaufnahme durchdringen, die auf einer Fähre aufgenommen wurde, die den East River von Brooklyn nach Manhattan überquert. Das ist Musik mit einem weitläufigen Terrain und einer dichten Atmosphäre. Veränderungen sind langsam, aber dramatisch, jede Verschiebung ist sorgfältig geplant, um Gefühle des Staunens und der Vorfreude zu wecken und gleichzeitig eine erhabene Sensibilität dafür zu bewahren, wie einzelne Klänge mit der Bewegung ihrer Umgebung in Beziehung stehen. Michelle verzichtet meisterhaft auf Narrative und komponiert in drei Dimensionen. Wir bleiben mit der Mehrdeutigkeit des Wortes ,might" zurück - der anhaltenden Möglichkeit des energetischen Ansturms des Bruchs, des Ausbrechens, mal am Horizont, mal unmittelbar bevorstehend, irgendwie beides gleichzeitig.

New album by SABA ALIZADEH, a groundbreaking voice in contemporary Iranian music who blends classical Persian traditions with avantgarde experimentation.

Born in Tehran in 1983 as son of the world renowned tar and setar virtuoso HOSSEIN ALIZADEH, SABA ALIZADEH established himself not only as a true master on the Iranian spike fiddle kamancheh but one of the groundbreaking voices in contemporary Iranian music, blending classical Persian traditions with avantgarde experimentation. His music, praised by THE WIRE as "a bridge between the ancient and the contemporary", turns sound and image into powerful narratives of memory and resistance. Over the past years, ALIZADEH (who relocated to the Netherlands a few years ago) has appeared at key festivals and venues such as Reeperbahn Festival, CTM, Flow Festival, Philharmonie Berlin, Kölner Philharmonie, solidifying his reputation as a singular live performer.
After the critically acclaimed releases "Scattered Memories" (his international debut, released on Karlrecords in 2019), "I May Never See You Again" (2021) and last year's "Temple of Hope", his new album fascinates again with a unique artistic voice, weaving together centuries-old sonic heritage and the urgency of the present through deeply immersive, meditative landscapes in two epic pieces. "Rituals Of The Last Dawn" may feel like a sad or resigned title (compared to the positively fierce "Temple Of Hope"), but at the same time the highly meditative music provides a good lot of contemplative strength. Appealing to an open-minded "world music" audience as well as fans of current streams of ambient or drone in its most subtle forms, ALIZADEH's latest work is a strongly needed soul food in bitter times. Created on the spot with his musical partners PIETRO CARAMELLI (guitar and electronics on "First Ritual") and LIEW NIYOMKARN (lap steel and electronics on "Last Ritual"), "Rituals Of The Last Dawn" is a pure, unfiltered emotional expression from one of contemporary Iranian music's leading artists.

“ It’s like a more psychedelic , organic KLF Chill Out with deep roots and cosmic overtones“ Richard Norris

“ A beautiful trip “ Jem Finer

D.E.N 01 LAND - Composer Danny Hammond
Land is the first in a series of earth inspired sonic journeys , part sound meditation , part immersive psychedelic nature trip. Incorporating field recordings , shack instruments and spoken words from cosmic adventurers .

It originated as an installation at the 14 Hour Technicolor Drone event in Sept 2025 whereby all listeners fell into a deep nature/dream slumber.
For fans of Pauline Olivieros ,Brian Eno , Terry Riley , Don Cherry , Barbara Hepworth , Alice Coltrane , John Betjemin and all other ambient adventurers.

D.E.N
Deep Earth Network is a long term sound project exploring deep-listening , drone and sonic adventure , all inspired by the earth in all its manifestations , land , water , space , consciousness. Initiated by Danny Hammond , D.E.N will present different sonic projects and collaborations from vinyl / audio releases to sonic installations with the aid of The Deep Earth Soundsystem and the Sonic Heads ( S.H ) a collection of sculpted head audio transmitters.

Laurel Halo returns with an album of original soundtrack music, composed for the film Midnight Zone by visual artist Julian Charrière. Following the path of a drifting Fresnel lighthouse lens as it descends through the Clarion-Clipperton Fracture Zone — a remote abyssal plain in the Pacific Ocean, rich in rare metals and increasingly targeted for deep-sea mining — the film traces a descent into one of Earth’s last untouched ecosystems.


Charrière’s film reveals the deep not as void, but as a luminous biome teeming with fragile life: bioluminescent creatures, swirling schools of fish, and elusive predators. The suspended lens becomes an abyssal campfire, attracting species caught in the tides of uncertainty, their futures hanging in the balance.


Echoing this tension, Halo’s compositions evoke a sensory freefall, where gravity falters and light and sound flicker in uncertain rhythms. Midnight Zone is a sonic drift through the space between what we seek to extract, fail to understand, and must protect.


Halo’s score evokes the life that exists beyond our physical airbound capacity. The material features long, subtle passages of electro-acoustic ambient, drone and sound design, slowly flowing and unfolding with rich detail. The music, composed largely on a Montage 8 synthesizer and Yamaha TransAcoustic piano at the Yamaha studios in New York City, possesses an uncanny quality: that of synthetic waveforms being amplified and sung through the stringboard of the physical body of the TransAcoustic piano. Combined with stacks of violin and viol da gamba, the music on Midnight Zone possesses trace elements of a human hand in an otherwise sunken landscape. Patient, submerged, and alive. The album will be the third on Halo’s imprint, Awe.


The film is central to Charrière’s current solo exhibition Midnight Zone. The exhibition engages with underwater ecologies, exploring the complexity of water as an elemental medium affected by anthropogenic degradation. Reflecting upon its flow and materiality, profundity and politics, its mundane and sacral dimensions, the solo show acts as a kaleidoscope, inviting us to dive deep.

Delphine Dora, the prolific French composer and multi-instrumentalist, graces Marionette with a suite of keyboard instrumentals that evoke futurism and the transcendental. Based in France and actively releasing music since the 00’s, Delphine’s remarkable solo and collaborative projects loosely connect the dots scattered across modern classical, folk, ambient, and poetic writing - always seeking new ambitions in terms of her sound.

Leaving behind the chaos of city life for the quiet solitude of a small village in the French countryside, Delphine finds herself fully immersed in the present moment and committed to her multi-disciplinary creative practices, savoring the experiences of deep listening in nature and her environment. Drawing from an academic background in Outsider Art and Art Brut, Dora yearns to express intimate inner dialogues, revealing the beauty of vulnerability through transportive musical passages to the mystical and sublime.

L’inéluctable pulsation du temps was composed in 2018, at a time when Delphine’s life was becoming increasingly busy, marked by relentless touring and concerts unfolding in rapid succession across different places. Written in parallel with L’Inattingible, her most ambitious album, it stands as its instrumental counterpart. The recordings reflect a period of exploration and assimilation of the Nord Electro, an instrument that opened up vast sonic possibilities, particularly for the development of rich polyphonies inspired by repetitive music. The track titles draw inspiration from an essay by Hartmut Rosa on the notions of acceleration and alienation - a reflection that resonates strongly with the pre-covid era right before the quarantine. The album reveals Delphine’s most colorful and rhythmic side, an aural mille-feuille, in total contrast with her previous melancholic vocal works.

On L’inéluctable pulsation du temps, Dora sustains atmospheric drone miniatures that form the foundation for flowing, cyclical arpeggios, spiraling into a liminal dream space where the repetitive phrasing of melodies rewards introspective listening. The compositions move through (dis)enchanted landscapes, taking unexpected turns into more haunted terrain, their contours further blurred by Dora’s intuitive articulation and sense of refinement. By mirroring both the acceleration of time and the experience of alienation, Delphine conjures up timeless sonic meditations, rendering the inevitable pulsation of time as something at once mesmerizing and unsettling.

Melohman and Paco Colombas Unveil 'Palma de Janeiro': A Rhythmic Bridge Between Mallorca and Brazil...

PALMA DE MALLORCA - Producers Melohman and Paco Colombas announce their new EP, 'Palma de Janeiro' on GAMM, a vibrant sonic fusion where Mallorcan tradition meets Brazilian pulse. All together, the result is a highly percussive house workout with a South American feel.

The project centers on a unique dialogue between two worlds: the Mediterranean drone of the Ximbomba and the tropical snap of the Pandeiro.
Inspired by the festive spirit of Mallorca's 'Devil' - a mischievous figure of joy and dance - the EP weaves together communal island roots with the duo's deep-seated passion for Brazilian music.

Born from years of crate-digging and travels across Brazil, 'Palma de Janeiro' is more than a collaboration; it is a celebration of music as a universal language. It is a tribute to the dancefloor, where local heritage and global rhythms collide.

Soft Echoes presents the first physical edition of ‘In a Few Places Along the River’ by Abul Mogard as a limited run of 500 vinyl copies. Originally released digitally in 2022, the album now appears in its intended form, marking the label’s second release.

Three long pieces, composed between 2019 and 2022, emerged from Mogard’s meticulous experimentation with analogue and digital instruments. Slowly evolving harmonic fields of layered drones and spectral textures drift across the record. They are enhanced by reverb from Scotland’s Inchindown oil tanks, which hold the longest reverberation of any man-made structure, giving the music a haunting resonance and a sense of suspended space.

‘Against a White Cloud’ and ‘In True Contemplation’ open the album with their nocturnal tones that gradually intensify into dense, immersive waves of sound. Side B is devoted to the 21-minute elegiacal piece ‘Along the River’, which flows between weight and silence, unfolding with reflective depth and moments of subtle transcendence. As one listener observed, “His music doesn't break the wilful suspension of disbelief: you stay in its trance.”

“Recording for this album began in 2019, when I was still living in London,” Mogard explains. “The first version of ‘Along the River’ was created at my studio near Brick Lane. It started with experimenting around a chord progression inspired by a classical piece I had once been recommended, though, strangely enough, I no longer recall what it was. Early in 2022, I revealed the identity behind Abul Mogard and wanted to mark this new period, so I decided to release it quickly, by myself, as digital-only.”

After returning to Rome, Mogard created the other two pieces, working with new digital instruments alongside his modular synthesiser, and integrated recordings from the London sessions. The music reveals a patient attention to texture and space, defining his usual restraint. Mogard adds, “I was trying to explore very subtle changes in the spectral characteristics of the music using extremely slow, intertwined tones.”

Described by critics as one of Mogard’s most melancholic and absorbing releases, the album maintains an austere beauty and contemplative weight, leaving a lingering impression that lasts far beyond the final note.

The music has extended beyond the album itself, with tracks appearing in films and contemporary artworks. Most notably, Swedish artist Peder Bjurman’s ‘Slow Walker’ audiovisual installation and French filmmaker Fleuryfontaine’s politically charged animated film ‘Soixante-sept millisecondes’.

Mastered by Rafael Anton Irisarri and cut to vinyl by Lupo, the record emphasises the clarity and depth of Mogard’s frequencies, with each layer precisely balanced. The cover artwork and design are by Marja de Sanctis, who has collaborated with Abul since his first cassette release in 2012.

Siren Selector presents the first voyage of Remy Solar, as the producer takes a break from composing sound system exclusive dubs to expand his horizons with this by-turns lush, textured, menacing and plaintive album.

‘Heavy Terrain’ emerges from the depths of a lifetime inside the dub fraternity: reared on a potent diet of Lee Scratch Perry and Augustus Pablo, The Disciples and Digital Mystikz, it’s an album which stuck its head in a bass bin in an abandoned bingo hall in north London before striking out on a musical road-trip to imbibe sounds and rhythms from further afield.

The album opens with the militant drums and ethereal pads of 'Sound in the East' before being bookended by two mixes of 'Star Trail', where unformed musical space and time cross uncharted distances to coalesce into the beginning of direction and rhythm. The lush deep house chords and drilling synths of 'Lila #3' summon ghostly presences, while in its counterpart 'Lila #7' layers of melody rise and hang like mist before dissipating in percussive heat. 'Dakhla's’ swelling and retreating drones fade into swirls of drums. In the eponymous 'Heavy Terrain', off-beat keyboard chops respond to each other from uncertain depths while electronic horns pulse across miles of open space. 'Empty City 'sees walls of sound coalesce and fragment, falling into bursts of white noise.

Remy Solar explores a deliberately constrained hardware set-up to create the primordial conditions of trance, locking down a rhythmic foundation while semi-improvised excursions form and reform above it. It’s an album that takes the listener on a journey between order and chaos, past and future, all the while underlaid by a counterpoint of cavernous bass lines and echoing percussion, yang and yin, shade and light.

Taupe’s latest album release, waxing | waning delivers jazz experimentalism, ‘skronk’, avant-rock, and electronics, by the Glasgow-based trio, due out via Minority Records. Across its seven tracks, waxing | waning captures Taupe’s approach – bold and boundary pushing – shaped by a fresh shift in the band’s dynamic and compositional approach.

Taupe’s waxing | waning, co-composed and realised by its players in a studio that was once an undertaker’s premises in Glasgow, is an absolutely affirmative album, an act of cultural defiance in desperate times.

Comprising Mike Parr-Burman (guitar, bass guitar, electronics), Jamie Stockbridge (alto and baritone saxophones) and Alex Palmer (drum kit, percussion), Taupe work up a storm of skronk, free jazz and harmolodic frenzy whose closest relations include Zu, Melt Banana and John Zorn. However, waxing | waning is from its opening, stuttering blasts, an exercise in seeking out and claiming new territory, finding unique and novel permutations in which jazz, rock, electronics interbreed at breakneck pace. Here is a group determined to say and do things they don’t get to say and do elsewhere in their musical lives.

‘Lemonade Tycoon’ hits the ground skronking. It’s cubistic jazz, cumulative in its impact, avoiding the white lines of the conventional freeway, bridling, bustling, coming at you from all angles – a three way conversation of astonishing rapidity, fast track, telepathic communication – everyone from James Chance to Albert Ayler coming at you at once, before morphing in to a spidery scrawl of electronics and furious percussion. ‘Anti-Bird-Spike BirdNest’s‘ title somehow sums up the sort of mental images evoked by the music – its sheer creative disobedience, as if being chased in vain, like a delivery rider evading capture by ICE agents -– shapeshifting, assuming different shades, sprouting metal quills and, in its midsection, seeming almost to swallow itself alive, before regurgitating itself in a sublime mess.

‘Interlude (Stride)’ is not exactly ambient, more a horizontal enmeshment of percussion, drones, reverberant noise, electronics, a sonic mulch. ‘allcapsallbold' reminds of early Aksak Maboul, in its playfulness, a haywire series of short phrases, subject to mechanical interference, a complex weave of irregular rhythms, increasingly eloquent sax phraseology and caustic guitars, which land heavier and heavier. ‘Pet Boss' is the new jazz equivalent of a highly evolved, mature conversation among brilliant equals, sharp, empathetic, complementary, rising to a collective, joyful noise. On the title track, electronics descend like a shower of bright particles, intensifying in their luminosity, whitening the skies, as sax and drums kick up a tempestuous, spontaneously sculpted noise that summons the ghosts of the great free jazz players, before a dark calm descends slowly. Finally, ‘Turn Push Kick’, a burgeoning chatterstorm of electronics, before the group kicks in, at angles to one another, led by abrasive guitars, reminiscent of Sunn O))) in their ritualistic concussion, riffing, digging deep amid squealing sax and piledriving percussion.

Der postklassische Komponist, Klangkünstler und Kurator Matthew Patton ist mit seinem zweiten Album als Those Who Walk Away zurück. "Afterlife Requiem" ist eine Elegie für seinen Freund und Kollegen Jóhann Jóhannsson. Drones, Elektroakustik und fast vollständige Stille, extrahiert aus unvollendeten Aufnahmen auf Jóhannssons Festplatten, bilden die Grundlage für zwei Streichquintette - Ghost Orchestra (Reykjavík) und Possible Orchestra (Winnipeg) -, die in einem traurigen, langatmigen Werk verarbeitet und ausgelöscht werden. Patton hat auch wieder mit Andy Rudolph (Guy Maddin) und Paul Corley (Sigur Rós, Ben Frost) an der Koproduktion und dem Sounddesign gearbeitet, um eine brodelnde Körperlichkeit zu schaffen, die brodelnde Tiefen mit eindringlichen Bewegungen gespenstischer Streicher kontrastiert. ,Alles, was ich je geschrieben habe, ist ein Requiem. Alles ist ein Ende. Der Tod ist überall in dieser Musik präsent. In meinen Werken geht es um das Verschwinden - der Gegenwart, der Vergangenheit, von allem. Afterlife Requiem wird im Laufe seiner Dauer immer langsamer, es ist ein einziges großes Ritardando, die Zeit verlangsamt sich nicht nur, sie verschwindet. Ohne dass ich darüber nachgedacht hätte, ereigneten sich zwei miteinander verbundene Tragödien, die während des Schreibens, Aufnehmens und Arbeitens organisch an die Oberfläche kamen: der Tod meiner Mutter und der Tod des Komponisten und Freundes Jóhann Jóhannsson. Wenn ich mit dem Schreiben anfange, denke ich an nichts Bestimmtes, ich schreibe einfach, komponiere, nehme auf und höre zu ... aber irgendwas macht sich immer auf unvorhergesehene Weise bemerkbar oder drängt sich in den Vordergrund. Nach dem medizinisch assistierten Tod meiner Mutter wurde mir beim Ausräumen ihrer Wohnung klar, dass ich auch die physische Manifestation ihrer Welt auslöschte - und dass ich genau dasselbe mit der Musik tat, die ich schrieb und aufnahm. Während dieser Zeit wurde mir auch Jóhanns Tod immer wieder bewusst. Für Afterlife Requiem habe ich kurze, verlassene Fragmente aus Jóhann Jóhannssons Festplatten genommen und diese körperlosen Audio-Geister abwechselnd in meine eigene Musik eingebaut, wobei ich sie unrein gelassen habe - und dabei die Grenze zwischen Schaffen und Zerstören verwischt habe. Nach seinem Tod hatte ich diese Festplatten aus Jóhannssons Berliner Studio zum Anhören bekommen. Diese Musik war aufgegeben worden, in verschiedenen Stadien der Entstehung und Auflösung: ein Verzeichnis zerfallener und toter Erinnerungen, vergessen und jetzt nur noch in einer Reihe ineinandergreifender mechanischer Teile vorhanden, die mit der Zeit selbst versagen und verschwinden werden, wie alles andere auch. Monatelang hörte ich mir diese Überreste von Jóhanns Musik obsessiv an und versuchte, Hinweise auf Jóhann vor seinem Tod zu finden. Oft stellte ich fest, dass er das Aufnahmegerät noch lange nach Ende der aufgenommenen Musik laufen gelassen hatte. Er schien nicht zu bemerken, dass die Musik aufgehört hatte, oder registrierte nicht, dass dies das Ende der Musik war, oder vielleicht war er durch etwas anderes abgelenkt. Aber ich fand diese langen Stillephasen zutiefst emotional und berührend. Die verschwindenden Elegien von Afterlife Requiem sind weniger Musik als vielmehr Überreste von Musik. Auf diese Weise arbeite ich immer auf die Subtraktion von Bedeutung hin. Die Musik ist fern und verschwommen, beschädigt, geisterhaft und gespenstisch und deutet nur wie eine halb vergessene Erinnerung an das, was einmal existierte, eine verdichtete Darstellung von Verfall und Auslöschung. Ich habe dieses neue Stück von Anfang bis Ende mit diesen körperlosen Stillephasen aus Jóhanns eigenem Werk, Raum und Zeit unterlegt. Jetzt für immer verschwunden, bleibt seine aufgezeichnete Stille zurück; eine monumentale Leere, die der Welt verloren gegangen ist. Im gesamten Stück, insbesondere in den Abschnitten ,Memorial Environment", habe ich auch unzählige Geräusche aus der Natur integriert, von vulkanischer Lava über Lastenaufzüge bis hin zum menschlichen Blutfluss, dem Zischen von Turbinen und Selbstmordinjektionen. Der Künstler Robert Smithson sagte vor Jahrzehnten: ,Es ist die Dimension der Abwesenheit, die es noch zu finden gilt." Für mich misst diese Musik auch, wie die Zeit abläuft. Tatsächlich ist die Zeit bereits abgelaufen. Die Ewigkeit hat bereits begonnen." - Matthew Patton (Those Who Walk Away)

Just when you thought Kevin Richard Martin's music couldn’t go any slower, lower or deeper, Sub Zero emerges. A slow-motion excavation of drug-tech, dub, dreamy noise and frozen ambience, the album gradually mutates into hypnotic pulsations and melodic melancholia. It is arguably Martin’s most striking release to date under his given name.


Originally released digitally on Bandcamp only in the depths of winter 2022, amid the final year of the COVID-19 pandemic and Russia’s initial invasion of Ukraine, this desolate epic went on to become KRM's best-selling digital album on the platform. With persistent demand for a vinyl pressing and a full DSP release from fans, Martin thought the time was right for Sub Zero to finally surface in its full glory: remastered and paired with fresh new artwork.


Unnervingly, the album is as beautiful as it is solemn, as glacial as it is relentless, and as subtle as it is terrifying. A trip into a sonic abyss, with a tour of a philosophical void, it’s to my ears, KRM’s most seductive work yet, and also his most emotionally resonant. Martin expertly balances tear-jerking motifs with heavier than hell rhythmic weight. With its melodic fog, eternal drones and eerie atmospherics, the peripheral throb of distant kick drums, the heartbeat punctuation of cavernous subs and the snowstorm blizzard of fuzz absolutely envelopes the mind, whilst crushing the soul.


In terms of lineage, Sub Zero might recall a more paranoid Porter Ricks, a dystopian GAS, or a brutally dubbed-out Pan Sonic. Most fitting, however, is its kinship with the deepest dub terrain Martin previously explored on In Blue, The Bug’s acclaimed 2020 collaboration with Dis Fig for Hyperdub, where he obsessively probed subaqueous pulses and low-end modulations.


Sub Zero is possibly the most minimal, desolate, and deviant dub record yet released on Martin’s PRESSURE label. It marks the point at which dub disappears into its own effects trails. Dub music capturing frozen moments in time. Dub as an addictive painkiller, that sounds both sacred and ocean deep.

FELT enter 2026 with a newly established sub label for reissues, retrospectives and oddball adjacent non-FELT material under the anagram catch-all LEFT. First on the agenda is a vinyl issue of a modern classical tape by Danish post-hardcore/late 2000s rock guitarist Johan Surrballe Wieth, founding member of the band Iceage (Escho/Dais/Mexican Summer/Matador).

Initially released on a limited cassette edition and plucked from the vast catalogue of the Copenhagen label Posh Isolation, the solo project Health & Safety can be read as composers meditation on anxiety, depression, insomnia and all the damned things they entangle. Wieth moves across the spectrum with dour, deliberate keys, mangled drone fx, barely-there violin scrapes, erratic chimes and whistles and with a knowing pace that feels akin to a guiding hand. We’re unsure if the form of each piece is meant to directly correlate to the drug so referenced but the quiet fever dream atmosphere of the 25 minutes also blurs each piece into a whole.

This quote from Wieth certainly rings true for the highly introspective nature of Health & Safety - “You should be very careful listening to too much music when you're writing an album. It has a tendency to become a little too explicit”

Debut by a new string trio of Pelt and Elkhorn veterans with the wild card contributions of Kaily Schenker, creating a new variant of supremely pleasing acoustic-psychedelic-drone-Americana etc. “Lullaby>Summer Field” is an aptly named gentle rise, with Sheppard’s fingerpicked 12 string snaking through waves of elongated fiddle and cello. “Triode>Freedom” follows a darker minor-key ostinato with Gangloff’s keening melody over the top. “Freedom>Universal Blues” starts as a dirge and builds to a transition into the traditional “The Squirrel is a Pretty Thing,” with Kaily Schenker’s droning harmonium and vocal delivering a riveting, epic version of what’s usually cast as a short “kids”/folk-tale song (e.g. Peggy Seeger’s version). Originally this album was released by the band in an instantly sold-out edition of 100 for sale at their shows. This updated version includes a new insert by Kaily, a new cut by John Golden and a thick pressing from Smashed in Chicago.

Impatience is thrilled to present Leaving Memory, the latest album-length work by Piper Spray and Lena Tsibizova. Leaving Memory is a searing distillation of the duo’s ouevre - it’s eleven prismatic electronic seances combining for a mind warping wormhole with it’s own internal (il)llogic, where pop, ambient, and industrial music convene beneath a rugged HD of digital processing and brain fog. Equally rosy with nostalgia as it is ominously forward looking, Leaving Memory defies easy categorization and makes for an astounding, confounding listen.

By turns violently abrasive and disarmingly touching, Piper and Lena deploy sounds that fracture and disintegrate, burn up and explode, synthetic supernovas that give the record an unmistakable, inimitable texture. Song structures often abide by their own blueprint - heading in one direction before making an abrupt dive elsewhere. Bursts of vibrant colour lurk below layers of grayscale noise. Unidentifiable voices deliver secret messages from the murk. When rhythm’s emerge they ground the tracks to some unknown terrain and invigorate.

Lame Line veers towards the sweeter end of their spectrum, a hazy plaintive repetition increasingly lashed with friction, before Exit erupts with clanging rhythm and shards of distortion. Diagnosis is an almost sweet alt-pop song, Lena’s vocals yearning beneath a dubby shuffle, while Keeper Of The Void’s possessed incantations open up to a ripping, fried climax. Beryl Grey releases the pressure gauge, a gently lilting drift arpeggiating as the sun sets, and Lost Cars sweats through claustrophobic drones and bird song before the clouds part on a serene scene. Leaving Memory closes with Shin, offering a genuinely sweet resolution and a gentle landing back down to earth of either footsteps or fireworks, swelling synthesized horns and woodwinds, a kiss on the cheek for making it out the other side.

On Leaving Memory, Piper Spray & Lena Tsibizova share their uniquely discordant take on freaky music for unsettled minds, an intensely energized set that offers a deeply evocative, unimaginable otherworld for adventurous ears.

Piper Spray and Lena Tsibizova have been producing music together since 2020. Leaving Memory is the first to be presented in the LP format. Piper has previously released music via Orange Milk, Hausu Mountain and Gost Zvuk, as well as his own Singapore Sling Tapes label. Lena works predominantly as a photographer, and together Piper and Lena have released music via radio.syg.ma and Kartaskvazhin. Both make music as part of Air Krew, who have released music on the Echotourist and Motion Ward labels. They’re both currently based nowhere.

Leaving Memory was written, produced and mixed by Piper Spray and Lena Tsibizova, and mastered by Sergey Podluzhniy. Cover photo by Lena Tsibizova, design and layout by Justin Sloane.

Siavash Amini is a composer from Tehran, Iran. He Has worked with labels like Room40, Hallow Ground, Opal Tapes and Umor Rex for the better half of the past ten years. He has performed at festivals like CTM & MUTEK and many other well known international events. Apart from it Siavash is a co-founder of the “SET experimental art events” and “SETfest” in Tehran, Iran. His work ranges from fragile ambient pieces and brittle IDM (incorporating his distinctive style of atmospheric guitar playing) to noisy drones and bleak modern classical pieces. His compositions have been inspired by films such as Andrei Tarkovsky's The Mirror as well as novels by Dostoyesvky and poems by T.S. Eliot.

Saffronkeira is the Sardinian sound researcher Eugenio Caria being active in the electronic music scene since almost two decades. His most recent work - a cooperation with the Italian jazz trumpet legend Paolo Fresu - earned a lot of praise from the international music press for the pure timelessness of the album.

"Upon hearing a small snippet of sound an image is conjured, not a memory but not unfamiliar. A shell of a memory, thousand events superimposed on each other. While trying to extract points of a narrative to ease the discomfort of this recollection, I try to separate and unfold the image and with it the points of the spectrum which make up the sound, a shell of a narrative. Here is an album based upon an almost entirely imagined/ synthesized happening upon hearing a snippet of sound. It sounded like of a whole story that never happened but yet I felt myself amongst it’s participants, a sound triggering a false memory. Each sound in Eugenio’s collection of sounds and ideas guided me a to a point in the narrative and it’s construction. He had handed me a portals of some kind to a few scenes of the whole narrative. This is the soundtrack for that false memory from all the perspectives I can think of."

West Mineral returns with lushly amorphous actions by Shiner, Pontiac Streator & Ben Bondy aka Shinetiac; together fused for an immersive flux of vapoured dub, chopped and droned Billie Eilish, and fidgety algorithmic jams.

There's not a single, specific sound you can peg to the West Mineral axis at this stage in the label’s evolution - it's rather a set of shared aesthetics that freely bend into various interconnected shapes. Shinetiac's contemptuous, critic-baiting gear is the ideal example; on their last album, 2023's 'Not All Who Wander Are Lost', skittery, ketamized IDM sparkled over Spice Girls samples and the Foo Fighters' 'Everlong' was transmuted into Sneaker Pimps-style trip-hop. 'Infiltrating Roku City' might be a little less blatant with its out-and-out poptimism, but it takes a similarly dim view of conservative "big ambient" snobbishness. Just a few minutes of 'Bluemosa' should be enough to let you know what's up; the overall character of the sound is hazed, with frozen pads and garbled, dubbed-out voices smudged into a mess of effects and samples. But it sups up different nuances as it wriggles, absorbing scampering breaks, dizzy acoustic guitar strums and half-heard wordless vocals, flipping in the third act to emerge from its shell as minimalist balearic folk-pop - something like Bon Iver doing 'Electric Counterpoint'.

Brooklyn's Shiner, Philly's Pontiac Streator and Berlin-based Ben Bondy navigate the labyrinthine streaming landscape, guided by their own private experiences of mindless doom-scrolling and cruising the darkest corners of YouTube. They formulated 'Infiltrating Roku City' while they were rehearsing last year and spent the winter stitching together various recordings and jams into a layered, dry-witted commentary on our algorithmic reality. Laden with inside jokes and refried memes, it's surprisingly elegant gear; handling the most unseemly elements like sonic recyclers, earnestly repurposing pop and nostalgia to create an atmospheric echo of contemporary reality.

Screwing Chief Keef's enduring 'Citgo', 'Clublyfe (hulu)' emphasises the original's AFX-pilled euphoria with Robert Miles-style piano hits, replacing Young Ravisu's brittle 128kbps trap rhythm with a glitchy rattle that picks up dembow spikes as it rolls. 'I Hate Being Sober' vaporises the Chicago drill pioneer's 'Hate Bein' Sober', blocking out his voice with glitchy, downsampled interference and elasticated Rhodes. The trio team up with Orange Milk's goo age on the sublime 'Crisis Angel', catching a ray of Malibu's sunshine in the process, and reduce Billie Eilish's voice to a Romance-does-Celine cinder on 'Billie', stretching it to fit next to gassed Future ad-libs and swooping 808 Mafia sub womps. And although the album takes a murky diversion on 'Roku Axes Ultra’, and a cloud-stepping centrepiece ‘Purelink’ in homage to the eponymous dubbed ambient dynamos, it's back on course with 'Jiafei (NETFLIX)', taking aim at TikTok bot videos and welding screams from Florida metal band Underoath to AI-strength vocal curlicues.

Un-easy listening from »anti-singer« and improviser Sofia Jernberg, a celebration of the voice in its rawest, most malleable form. Jernberg was born in Ethiopia and grew up in Vietnam and Sweden, so one can only imagine these diverse languages opened up a wealth of phonetic possibilities before she entered academia to study jazz and composition. If you dive into her catalogue you’ll clock her startling range – working as a jazz soprano and as an improviser, collaborating with everyone from Stefan Schneider to Mats Gustafsson, as well as appearances on the stage and screen, most notably in Matthew Barney, Erna Ómarsdóttir, and Valdimar Jóhannsson’s »Union of the North«.

On »Voice«, Jernberg provides a ground-level entry point to her work, meticulously running through a litany of unconventional techniques (non-verbal vocalisation, split tones, toneless singing, and distortion) without any effects, just pure batshit sonics designed to show off the voice’s scope as an experimental instrument. On »Mouth Synthesizer« she purses her lips to make ratcheting pops like some analog oscillator, hoarsely mimicking the sort of blustery, Merzbow-coded distortions you might get if you patched a RAT pedal into a broken guitar amp. It isn’t an act of caricature, it’s Jernberg’s way of demonstrating that expensive modular rigs aren’t an essential tool for experimental music, before throwing a side-eye to the field recording industrial complex on »Birds«, transforming her vocal chords into a nightmare aviary. But it’s Jernberg’s startling »multiphonic« experiments that hit hardest. The album opens on »Multiphonic I«, and it’s difficult to tell that you’re listening to a human voice at first – you could just as well be on Colin Stetson’s overblown sax airstreams. Jernberg creates a captivating spiral of crooked, phased tones and hoarse, guttural croaks that she develops over three movements. On »Multiphonic II«, her voice is turned into a storm of pained shrieks, and on the third and final segment, it almost resembles Arve Henriksen or Jon Hassell’s muted brass curlicues. Each track pulls a different musical muscle, whether it’s »One Pitch« with its unsettling yodel-like quivering drones or »Gurgle«, sounding like a close mic-ed recording of a small pot gently simmering.

Explicit isolation is the third album by the international collective E/I, led by composer and percussionist Szymon Pimpon Gąsiorek. The group’s seven core members came together while studying at Copenhagen’s Rhythmic Music Conservatory and the Royal Danish Academy of Music. For this latest release, they are joined by Slovenian musicians Samo Kutin (hurdy-gurdy) and Kaja Draksler (organ), alongside Danish tuba player Rasmus Svale.

The three compositions distill sound down to its essential elements, drifting freely through space. The material is minimal, moving in the geological rhythm of endless cycles of tension and release, formation and dissolution, density and lightness. Pimpon acts here more as a guide than a creator with a master plan. He is a navigator, leading us to the most crucial moments where sonic emissions merge into vibrating drones, building to an inevitable leap—an explosion after which the particles rearrange themselves once again. It feels like futuristic temple music infused with intergalactic spiritual jazz, the extensions of drone music, and acoustic ambient textures, all highlighted by the jolly grin of the navigator.

“I wrote the scores and asked each of the musicians to record their parts individually. What’s interesting for me about doing it this way is that it removes the element of immediate interaction and introduces a factor of randomness. I then edited and mixed it myself, also adding my own parts. Previously, it was strictly acoustic music, and the recordings were ‘live,’ meaning they were captured in one room at the same time, with no subsequent edits.” Pimpon has also incorporated electronics, which make the album even more airy and organically complement the sounds of the hurdy-gurdy and organ, recorded in Trboje, the small Slovenian village.

Allowing yourself to find meaning or beauty in the mundane is an act of generosity, Whether it’s seeing a smiling face in an electrical outlet socket, or discerning cosmic design amidst the forest floor detritus, it comes from a place of kindness to yourself and senses – and openness to hidden spirit of the world. These tracks came together during a period of intense personal change for adaa, rooted in a fruitful reflection on the connections between spirit and body, “feeling my flesh so I can feel and understand my spirit,” as adaa puts it. The sense of a crossover and clash of multiple connected realities – on-screens, on-line, on-earth, off-world, after-life – unites adaa’s multifaceted productions.

Ostensibly an assemblage of found sounds. scribbled thoughts and poems from diaries, and musial snippets, the album's scattered production reflects adaa’s own many mirror worlds. Field recording sit behind most tracks, alongside VST synths, guitars, and a variety of voices, from adaa’s own mangled vox to EVP samples taken from YouTube (recorded sounds believed to be spirits or paranormal activity), all processed to varying degrees.

While the music was mostly produced either in adaa’s studio in Providence, Rhode Island, or in bed, the field recordings bring the outside world in. The result of walks in the woods, hum of roads and highways, hiss of beaches, warmth of walks with friends and past lovers “around the East Coast”. It sits behind tracks like ‘sight’ where a lilting piano lin bobs atop a pond of rustling and distant whistles. Is that birdsong? Or ghosts? Saccharine hyperpop arpeggiation crossfades sharply into noise guitar squall. Angelic demon voices yawn into a hefty crescendo. Pure drones duet with gales of undefinable field sounds.

“Sometimes I feel like a seed in frosted soil,” says adaa. “If i choose to be optimistic.”

Inspired by witnessing the broken tension and renewed possibilities of a laptop breaking down at a gig – not to mention the void left behind by the sudden end of a relationship – Pentu’s latest release is a jump-cut menagerie of musical moments. Sewn together into ‘And I Saw My Devil And I Saw My Deep Blue Sea’, these fifteen tracks continue the London-based producer’s active departure from the soundscapes and song structures that dominated their previous writing style. These disparate pieces slice themselves off into sudden silence, or veer into unpredictable sidebars, hopping from hyperactive instrumentals to beautifully deconstructed YouTube samples. Described by Pentu as “emotionally intuitive to write”, this is music by and for the endlessly scrolling modern mind – “navigating the world alongside the splintered, interruptive emotional hyper realities of social media.”

The sudden silences, drones, and interruptions are perhaps less surprising than the guitar-based textures of metal & shoegaze woven into several vital passages by Pentu. The result is a collage that encapsulates the erratic feeling, not only of a relationship’s end, but simply of navigating online mediascapes.”I found myself realising that my phone, the constant interrupter of nothingness and silence, was both a cause of depression (reliving memories, dating apps) and a relief from it (creating new friendships, distractions, also dating apps)”, says Pentu.

Pentu’s attempt to overcome content overload by actively curbing his setup of laptop-guitar--synth does little to reduce the scope of this album’s sonic palette. YouTube vlog samples (from videos with next-to-no views) are an attempt to recontextualise and dramatise material that “would have otherwise been throwaway moments lost in the internet”, adding staccato moments of reality to Pentu’s beautiful and jarring album-length paean to overstimulation.

'Flowers', the new EP from Elizabeth Davis, finds itself at the cross-section of many factors. In part, it’s the result of Davis’ obsession with a seminal folk song. But it also coincides with her rediscovery of the voice and language as an instrument. It was recorded during an autumn residency at Sternhagen Gut, the cultural refuge run by Gudrun Gut and Thomas Fehlmann, located deep in the Uckermark countryside halfway between Berlin and the Baltic coast.

The six tracks on 'Flowers' all take Pete Seeger’s ‘60s protest-folk song 'Where Have All The Flowers Gone' as their starting point. However, they veer off in different directions, from vocal loops and deconstructed lyrics, to instrumental drones and glitchy, manipulated rhythm tracks. Like many musicians, Davis has learnt composition by a process of disassembly, analyzing musical works piece by piece, and 'Flowers' began as one such forensic exercise. “But sometimes,” says Davis, “a source is so loaded up on meaning that the studies and experiments can become worthwhile and meaningful works in their own right.” 'Flowers' began to take on a life of its own, raising renewed questions about age-old themes such as war, authorship, translation and historical structures.

Davis is no stranger to cover versions. From studying violin to playing in free jazz and punk bands, interpreting other artists’ works has long been a key part of her musical approach. And since her radio show 'Deep Puddle' recently drew to a close after seven years, her experiments with narration and sound collage have found their way into her musical work once again. For 'Flowers', she cut up the source material (with a nod to Gysin and Burroughs), and reassembled the lyrics, the musical notes, and recordings by different performers, to create uncanny new forms.

But perhaps the biggest influence on 'Flowers' was conversations about music, art and pop subcultures with Gut. These dialogues helped Davis find a balance between far-out sound design experiments and catchy melodies, combining a certain avant-garde element and modern day songcraft. And it’s this sense of conversation, this revisiting of topics and renewal of ideas, that will keep us coming back to 'Flowers' long into the future.

For the first time, all the 1978 recording sessions of Lino Capra Vaccina's legendary Antico Adagio - including Frammenti da Antico Adagio and Echi Armonici da Antico Adagio - collected in one definitive deluxe edition. Minimalism, and so much more. Sheets of resonance, stunning harmonic interplay, intricate rhythms rising as one. Sidelong works of pulsing, hypnotic, ritualistic drone built from vibraphones, marimbas, gongs, bells, and cymbals, threaded by the sustained vocal tones of Juri Camisasca and Dana Matus. A trance-inducing, meditative, cosmic world of sonic interplay - the world beyond, joined with that which lays within.

Before an aberrant idea of progress ludicrously sped up our daily lives, even in hectic Milan it was possible to "play slowly" - with no pressure, simply following the path your art was showing you. This music moves between modal fascinations, ritual evocations, and states of hypnotic trance, evoking the acoustic environment of Tibetan and Zen Buddhist ceremonies and the temporal structures of Noh theatre, from which Vaccina took the name of his original label, Nō. Now, fittingly, this complete collection appears on Ubi Kū, the label of the Italian Buddhist Union.

Lino Vaccina (1953) first gained note as a member of Aktuala, creating a hybrid of rock, avant-garde, and ancient musics while incorporating sonic traditions from across the globe. After leaving in 1974, he studied at Milano's Civica Scuola di Musica, collaborating with Franco Battiato and Juri Camisasca, and forming Telaio Magnetico in 1975. In 1978 he self-released Antico Adagio in a tiny edition and wouldn't be heard from again until 1992. From 1979 to 1985 he was percussionist with the Orchestra of Teatro alla Scala under maestros such as Abbado and Ozawa. His career has been marked by an incredibly high bar of quality and a tragically slim recorded output - a rigorous and sensual language fusing Oriental, Mediterranean, and African influences with ritual elements and a cosmic sense of time.

As Massimo Torrigiani writes: "Lino Vaccina's music captivates through its internal coherence and its ability to generate states of suspension and deep listening - through undulations, small melodic fragments, dialogues between acoustic instruments and resonances that seem to evoke a phantom orchestra. An example of personal exploration, discipline and openness that speaks across time to anyone willing to be drawn into its sound."

Frammenti da Antico Adagio and Echi Armonici da Antico Adagio contain material from the original sessions, restored and issued by Die Schachtel in 2014 and 2017. The new masters, prepared by Giuseppe Ielasi, are based on those restorations and the original material. The package includes previously unpublished photographs from the May 1978 sessions and liner notes by Mauro Radice in Italian, English, and French. Cover art by Dana Matus. Printed by Legno, Milano & Mother Tongue, Verona.

Personnel: Lino Capra Vaccina (vibraphone, marimba, tablas, wooden drums, darbuka, cymbals, gong, metal sheets, bells, bass drum, tom, snare drum, piano, voice), Dana Matus (voice, percussion, cetra), Juri Camisasca (voice), Mario Garuti (violin), Roberto Mazza (oboe). Original production by Massimo Villa & Lino Vaccina with Piero Cannizzaro. Recorded May 1978 at Circle Studios, Milano.

The heights of the Italian avant-garde, at their very best.

Across an extensive suite of enchanting miniatures, Matthias Kremsreiter and Christian Schoppik present the hypnagogic vision of Taghelle Nacht. Recording under their respective Roudi Vagou and Läuten der Seele aliases, Kremsreiter and Schoppik combine their distinct but equally accomplished instrumental practices into a new collaboration that weaves swooning samples amongst instrumental passages. They lead us through 16 vignettes that revel in the cognitive dissonance and seductive magic of moonlight at midnight.

Both artists have past form within the folds of contemporary experimental electronic music in Germany. Kremsreiter's work as alibikonkret has manifested on DIY tape releases created with a methodical, technically-minded approach. Debuting his Roudi Vagou pseudonym on Taghelle Nacht, he pivots to a more playful, instinctively felt method that allows the compositions to flow with a natural cadence. Schoppik has been a key figure in the celebrated dark-ambient-folk scene, not least as part of the group Brannten Schnüre. His work as Läuten der Seele includes the acclaimed 'water trilogy' of LPs between 2022 and 2024, with a greater emphasis on instrumental, atmospheric production, and a last, stunning collaborative album with Nový Sv?t's Jota Solo.

On Taghelle Nacht the precise ingredients of each piece soften at the edges as tape loops and swathes of reverb seal the joints between spellbinding melodic refrains. Opening track and lead single 'Gleisende Lichter' sets the tone with ghostly murmurs, spine-tingling string refrains and splashes of cymbal that cut through the gloom with stark clarity. A lilting romanticism stirs at the heart of the orchestral samples that populate the likes of "Grenzu?berschreitung" - old-world beauty sometimes buried in dust, elsewhere rendered with startling clarity. 'So Süß' lets buzzing, sustained drones and dissonant sweeps of extended technique glide in and out of each other. Granular processing subtly breaks apart the mellow swell on 'Komischer Anruf', and forlorn sax calls out into heavy-hearted space on 'Glaskopf Mit Watte'. At every turn a new scene is painted, distinct from the last and yet all bound up in the pervasive, pale blue light cast over the sleeping landscape Kremsreiter and Schoppik have sculpted.

Snatches of song drift by like dreamlike fragments, and achingly tender flourishes fleetingly appear and retreat - ideas and expressions momentarily caught in the light before retreating into the shadows once more. This is the evocative world of Taghelle Nacht - an unsettling depiction of the surreal blend of memories and imagination that merge into each other once the sun goes down.

Bombastic yet delicate, crushing yet ethereal, driving yet dark, Temptress fuse drone, doom, grunge and hardcore into an obliterating molten blend. Temptress are a jigsaw of sonic touchstones with no audible seams. Bombastic yet delicate, crushing yet ethereal, driving yet dark, the trio fuse drone, doom, post-rock, grunge and hardcore into a molten blend that creeps and obliterates like a liquid metal assassin. With 200+ shows played in their relatively short tenure, Temptress' endless ideas and nuances slide perfectly into place thanks to its members' vast live experience. New album hear churns with searing hooks and dissonant grooves in an irresistible confluence of ideas, and fans of multi-voiced, genre-tag resistant bands like Heavy Temple, The Well and Hippie Death Cult should prepare to be drawn in by Temptress' unyielding allure. Multicolored LP (Molten Smoke Ed., pressed on transparent sepia, clear and black marbled vinyl, w/ lyrics sheet) & digipaked CD on offer!

Mit dem Original Soundtrack zu Star Trek: Insurrection erscheint eines der letzten großen Werke des legendären Filmkomponisten Jerry Goldsmith in einer hochwertigen, limitierten Vinyl-Ausgabe. Die Musik kombiniert klassische orchestrale Star-Trek-Themen mit neuen, emotionalen und abenteuerlichen Klangwelten, die die Atmosphäre des neunten Star-Trek-Kinofilms eindrucksvoll widerspiegeln.

Diese LP richtet sich nicht nur an eingefleischte Star-TrekFans, sondern auch an Liebhaber hochwertiger Filmmusik und Vinyl-Sammler. Die warmen, detailreichen Klangfarben des Orchesters kommen auf Vinyl besonders zur Geltung und machen diese Veröffentlichung zu einem echten Highlight jeder Soundtrack-Sammlung.

Active for 40 years, Nurse with wound is one of the projects of Steven Stapleton, materialized in a very wide range of hysterical noise over sound collages and cut ups, abstract music, soothing drones and surreal sound paintings, and more rhythmical and mechanical pieces, always inspired by Dadaism and Futurism, Krautrock, jazz improvisation, surrealism, never losing his main goal, that is having fun and enjoying himself.He has had many collaborators, a recurrent one in the 80s and 90’s being Current 93’s David Tibet, another noticeable one still at work with him is Andrew Liles.The main line of this unpredictable sound builder is hectic and uncompromised, his point of view is that everything is possible and applies it to himself. As a youngster he wanted to be an artist so decided he was one . He is not a musician, and says he has no interest in becoming one. Surprisingly, (or not!), the love of his life is building sculptures out of recycled and reclaimed materials, building things with anything, even junk. And sounds, we are a witness to it.With these very strange juxtapositions of styles and manners, female rap music and 50s and 60s lounge music having a special top priority in Steven’s tastes, and a creativity that has no bounds no taboos, with a taste of novelty every time, Nurse with wound will no doubt continue to surprise people listening to his works, and himself, as he wants to keep it fresh every time, mostly for him.