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Repress!

Echospace Detroit is the label launched by Rod Modell (Deepchord) and Soultek's Steven Hitchell, two leading lights of the minimal dub techno scene. And as with anything Deepchord, the entire release has an air of mystery to it. Previously, as a near-mythical vinyl pressing with minimal packaging and restricted pressings, everything about Vantage Isle was geared toward the underground, or 'those who know.' However, there's nothing but love of craft driving these grooves, and now a lot more people will finally be able to hear this absolutely brilliant collection of spacial dub wonder on CD. Vantage Isle Sessions consists of a whopping 13 takes of the title track, reworked by Modell and Hitchell in various guises (cv313, Deepchord, Echospace, Spacecho), as well as a guest spot (and first ever remix) from Gerard Hanson (Convextion). Across their 13 versions, Modell and Hitchell manage to take the Deepchord template (analog synths, deep bass, gently throbbing beats, bursts of static and noise, and deep, deep chords) into a surprising variety of directions, akin to looking at the same giant glacier from a helicopter from every angle possible: some are beatless and undulating, some are pulsing and dynamic, some are looking up from under the ice and some are towering overhead. The aforementioned Convextion version is revelatory. It's built on cascading and echoing pieces of the original that are layered like shifting sands, for a distinctly dark and shimmering journey to the bottom of the frozen ocean and back. It's remarkable enough to get all these takes on one basic template to sound somewhat different, given that the source material is really just a skeletal array of sound sheets. Vantage Isle Sessions is for anyone looking for the logical successors to the Basic Channel throne, or just looking for something mellow for those steamy late summer nights. A stone-cold classic of the genre. Don't miss it." -Todd Hutlock, Stylus Magazine/Beatz by the Pound

"Steeped in mystery, Detroit musicians Rod Modell and Mike Schommer (aka Deepchord) are legendary for their hard to find twelve-inch dub techno releases. Their sound is heavily influenced by Berlin dub techno producers like Maurizio, Basic Channel, Chain Reaction, Rhythm & Sound, Blue Train and Pole. While the German sound often has a futuristic metallic edge, Deepchord are known more for the rust and grease, which is part and parcel of those metal parts. Static, analog sounds, deep bass thumps and, of course, deep chords blend in a timeless minimal manner. However, the real gems on this disc are the drifty ambient cuts devoid of beats. This is an excellent album that is on par with the classics from a decade ago!" -Exclaim


"In terms of ambient dub, if Basic Channel is the Father (the source, remote and inaccessible and very powerful) and Pole is the Son (dazzling but ultimately stranded halfway between man and the divine), than Rod Modell’s Deepchord and his Echospace label he run with Steve Hitchell is definitely the Holy Spirit." -Popmatters


"Deepchord’s dub-techno stealthily peels away melody, leaving a bare chassis of beats to ghost-ride down Woodward Avenue. Vantage Isle Sessions, which collects remixes of a 2002 Detroit Electronic Music Festival performance, finds the duo swerving through empty, neon-smeared streets, and recalls Berlin’s Chain Reaction label, minus the anemic minimalism." -XLR8R

"The album scales a magnificent peak in “Spacecho Dub II - Extended Mix” when smeary chords ricochet over a massively deep, bass-heavy pulse, and Hanson's light-speed missile of vaporous propulsion (“Convextion Remix”) is beautiful too.
Long may they run." -Textura

‘Vantage Isle’ is a tremendous achievement that will most likely be held up as a high water mark of the genre for years to come." -Resident Advisor

"My favorite mix is by Convextion (his first remix for another artist). Reedy, distant synth tones sound like a science fiction soundtrack overheard rooms away. An undercurrent of echoes, many difficult to describe, drift in a sonic syrup." -Gridface

"Modell’s music always seems to be in this suspended animation, adrift and afloat in a majestic emptiness." -Dusted Mag

CREDITS:
Written & Produced by Deepchord. Redesigned and Reshaped by Convextion (Gerard Hanson) cv313 (Stephen Hitchell) echospace / spacecho (Rod Modell + Stephen Hitchell)
Additional Mastering, Mixing and Engineering by Ron Murphy @ NSC Mastering, Detroit, USA. Side E/F Remastering and Lacquer cutting by Dietrich @ Complete, NYC, USA. (2018)

Kneading dough is tricky – you should know how it’s supposed to feel. If you try too hard you could make it worse. It’s a beautiful practice – creation with a gentle touch, to work at something so it can be left alone. “If it’s too drawn out it’s awful. It’s easy to give too much.” Dance in the mirror. Contemplate your veiny hands. Who do they remind you of?

You begin by mixing flour and water. “What happens when your people die? Why’d they move the rock to the other side of Ulster Park?” Eliza Niemi asks two seemingly unrelated questions in a rising melody with guitar accompaniment, like fingers playing spider up to the nape of your neck. Gentle pressure. Strands of gluten form to bind the mix. A new question lingers in the binding. When she admits “but I don’t know how to tell if I’m feeling it or not,” that question surfaces through the text. It is reiterated throughout the album. When I’m working with dough I think the same thing to myself.

On Progress Bakery, her second album as a solo artist, Eliza knows to leave some questions alone – to let juxtaposition and tension be the proof. It doesn’t have to be hard. The feelings and revelations they provoke rise in the heat. The smell is sweet. Crispy on the outside and soft all the way through. She playfully slip-slides through words and sounds and images, delighting in surprise, skimming ideas like stones cast across clear water, touching down briefly with uncommon grace.

The question provoked between those opening lines resurfaces in the strands between songs – “Do U FM” is fully formed and beautifully layered, while “Novelist Sad Face” is a short, acapella rendering of gentle curiosity. What is holding these ideas together? Some songs demand more, seem to carry a whole load – eventually the skipping stone will halt to sink and resume its idle duty – while others drift in and out of focus, the way thoughts and dreams become interwoven before the mind is sunk into true sleep.

Music and words don’t always have to interact. Where she decides to keep them apart gives a new contour to where and how she puts them together. The kind of thing you’re supposed to take for granted with songs and their singers comes alive in Eliza’s hands – the little miracle of mixing, kneading, stretching, and stopping.

So often on Progress Bakery, Eliza teases out truth and meaning by asking questions. “Do I wanna be crying?” “Do you want me good or do you want me bad?” “Do I need an eye test?” “I’m writing songs in my head while you’re going over stuff with me — is that cruel??” In “Pocky” Eliza ends with a question that feels to me like the actual biography, succinct and revealing:

I don’t wanna be made to see
I just wanna ask “what’s that?”

Grace that ought to be rare, but in its care and precision is offered humbly, with great generosity, and without announcing itself. Eliza’s simple, miraculous music is given further form and shape by a group of collaborators – invaluable guest musicians Jeremy Ray, Evan Cartwright, Steven McPhail, Kenny Boothby, Ed Squires, Carolina Chauffe, Dorothea Paas, Louie Short, and Avalon Tassonyi. Together with Louie Short, who recorded, mixed, and produced the album along with Jeremy Ray and Lukas Cheung, Eliza has cultivated a richness in sound and texture that prods and provokes the ticklish ear. Barely audible guitar tinkering, a brief lo-fi field recording of trumpets, the harmonic clicking of a looped synthesizer, a flourish of reeds, a child’s conversation, each uncanny sound perfectly placed, rippling out under a soft breeze.

Lay in bed alone at night and ask aloud to the stillness,

“What were you doing at the Albuquerque Airport?
What were you doing there??”

And hear your question answered by a dream of swelling, undulating cellos. Try to grasp at the melody and structure. It’s not an answer (if there could be one), but it moves deeper, closer to the weird layer of fleeting moments and disconnected images, barely perceptible at its core. Wait for the dream reel to click into place.

Eliza took me for a ride in Nicole (her beloved Dodge Grand Caravan) and told me she’d been thinking of the album as an embodiment of transition – and I think every transition, known or unknown, carries the weight of new meaning, skittering off the surface tension of life as you know it, creating ripples, sometimes bouncing off and sometimes breaking through. There is a trick you can use to tell if a dough is glutinous enough. You’re supposed to stretch it out as thin as you can without breaking it and hold it up to the light. If you can see through, even if it renders the world murky and uncertain, you should leave it alone. I love this trick. It’s one that Eliza seems to know intuitively: work gently and ask questions and don’t always expect answers, and when you can, take a glimpse at something new, and then leave.

Kneading dough is tricky – you should know how it’s supposed to feel. If you try too hard you could make it worse. It’s a beautiful practice – creation with a gentle touch, to work at something so it can be left alone. “If it’s too drawn out it’s awful. It’s easy to give too much.” Dance in the mirror. Contemplate your veiny hands. Who do they remind you of?

You begin by mixing flour and water. “What happens when your people die? Why’d they move the rock to the other side of Ulster Park?” Eliza Niemi asks two seemingly unrelated questions in a rising melody with guitar accompaniment, like fingers playing spider up to the nape of your neck. Gentle pressure. Strands of gluten form to bind the mix. A new question lingers in the binding. When she admits “but I don’t know how to tell if I’m feeling it or not,” that question surfaces through the text. It is reiterated throughout the album. When I’m working with dough I think the same thing to myself.

On Progress Bakery, her second album as a solo artist, Eliza knows to leave some questions alone – to let juxtaposition and tension be the proof. It doesn’t have to be hard. The feelings and revelations they provoke rise in the heat. The smell is sweet. Crispy on the outside and soft all the way through. She playfully slip-slides through words and sounds and images, delighting in surprise, skimming ideas like stones cast across clear water, touching down briefly with uncommon grace.

The question provoked between those opening lines resurfaces in the strands between songs – “Do U FM” is fully formed and beautifully layered, while “Novelist Sad Face” is a short, acapella rendering of gentle curiosity. What is holding these ideas together? Some songs demand more, seem to carry a whole load – eventually the skipping stone will halt to sink and resume its idle duty – while others drift in and out of focus, the way thoughts and dreams become interwoven before the mind is sunk into true sleep.

Music and words don’t always have to interact. Where she decides to keep them apart gives a new contour to where and how she puts them together. The kind of thing you’re supposed to take for granted with songs and their singers comes alive in Eliza’s hands – the little miracle of mixing, kneading, stretching, and stopping.

So often on Progress Bakery, Eliza teases out truth and meaning by asking questions. “Do I wanna be crying?” “Do you want me good or do you want me bad?” “Do I need an eye test?” “I’m writing songs in my head while you’re going over stuff with me — is that cruel??” In “Pocky” Eliza ends with a question that feels to me like the actual biography, succinct and revealing:

I don’t wanna be made to see
I just wanna ask “what’s that?”

Grace that ought to be rare, but in its care and precision is offered humbly, with great generosity, and without announcing itself. Eliza’s simple, miraculous music is given further form and shape by a group of collaborators – invaluable guest musicians Jeremy Ray, Evan Cartwright, Steven McPhail, Kenny Boothby, Ed Squires, Carolina Chauffe, Dorothea Paas, Louie Short, and Avalon Tassonyi. Together with Louie Short, who recorded, mixed, and produced the album along with Jeremy Ray and Lukas Cheung, Eliza has cultivated a richness in sound and texture that prods and provokes the ticklish ear. Barely audible guitar tinkering, a brief lo-fi field recording of trumpets, the harmonic clicking of a looped synthesizer, a flourish of reeds, a child’s conversation, each uncanny sound perfectly placed, rippling out under a soft breeze.

Lay in bed alone at night and ask aloud to the stillness,

“What were you doing at the Albuquerque Airport?
What were you doing there??”

And hear your question answered by a dream of swelling, undulating cellos. Try to grasp at the melody and structure. It’s not an answer (if there could be one), but it moves deeper, closer to the weird layer of fleeting moments and disconnected images, barely perceptible at its core. Wait for the dream reel to click into place.

Eliza took me for a ride in Nicole (her beloved Dodge Grand Caravan) and told me she’d been thinking of the album as an embodiment of transition – and I think every transition, known or unknown, carries the weight of new meaning, skittering off the surface tension of life as you know it, creating ripples, sometimes bouncing off and sometimes breaking through. There is a trick you can use to tell if a dough is glutinous enough. You’re supposed to stretch it out as thin as you can without breaking it and hold it up to the light. If you can see through, even if it renders the world murky and uncertain, you should leave it alone. I love this trick. It’s one that Eliza seems to know intuitively: work gently and ask questions and don’t always expect answers, and when you can, take a glimpse at something new, and then leave.

Kneading dough is tricky – you should know how it’s supposed to feel. If you try too hard you could make it worse. It’s a beautiful practice – creation with a gentle touch, to work at something so it can be left alone. “If it’s too drawn out it’s awful. It’s easy to give too much.” Dance in the mirror. Contemplate your veiny hands. Who do they remind you of?

You begin by mixing flour and water. “What happens when your people die? Why’d they move the rock to the other side of Ulster Park?” Eliza Niemi asks two seemingly unrelated questions in a rising melody with guitar accompaniment, like fingers playing spider up to the nape of your neck. Gentle pressure. Strands of gluten form to bind the mix. A new question lingers in the binding. When she admits “but I don’t know how to tell if I’m feeling it or not,” that question surfaces through the text. It is reiterated throughout the album. When I’m working with dough I think the same thing to myself.

On Progress Bakery, her second album as a solo artist, Eliza knows to leave some questions alone – to let juxtaposition and tension be the proof. It doesn’t have to be hard. The feelings and revelations they provoke rise in the heat. The smell is sweet. Crispy on the outside and soft all the way through. She playfully slip-slides through words and sounds and images, delighting in surprise, skimming ideas like stones cast across clear water, touching down briefly with uncommon grace.

The question provoked between those opening lines resurfaces in the strands between songs – “Do U FM” is fully formed and beautifully layered, while “Novelist Sad Face” is a short, acapella rendering of gentle curiosity. What is holding these ideas together? Some songs demand more, seem to carry a whole load – eventually the skipping stone will halt to sink and resume its idle duty – while others drift in and out of focus, the way thoughts and dreams become interwoven before the mind is sunk into true sleep.

Music and words don’t always have to interact. Where she decides to keep them apart gives a new contour to where and how she puts them together. The kind of thing you’re supposed to take for granted with songs and their singers comes alive in Eliza’s hands – the little miracle of mixing, kneading, stretching, and stopping.

So often on Progress Bakery, Eliza teases out truth and meaning by asking questions. “Do I wanna be crying?” “Do you want me good or do you want me bad?” “Do I need an eye test?” “I’m writing songs in my head while you’re going over stuff with me — is that cruel??” In “Pocky” Eliza ends with a question that feels to me like the actual biography, succinct and revealing:

I don’t wanna be made to see
I just wanna ask “what’s that?”

Grace that ought to be rare, but in its care and precision is offered humbly, with great generosity, and without announcing itself. Eliza’s simple, miraculous music is given further form and shape by a group of collaborators – invaluable guest musicians Jeremy Ray, Evan Cartwright, Steven McPhail, Kenny Boothby, Ed Squires, Carolina Chauffe, Dorothea Paas, Louie Short, and Avalon Tassonyi. Together with Louie Short, who recorded, mixed, and produced the album along with Jeremy Ray and Lukas Cheung, Eliza has cultivated a richness in sound and texture that prods and provokes the ticklish ear. Barely audible guitar tinkering, a brief lo-fi field recording of trumpets, the harmonic clicking of a looped synthesizer, a flourish of reeds, a child’s conversation, each uncanny sound perfectly placed, rippling out under a soft breeze.

Lay in bed alone at night and ask aloud to the stillness,

“What were you doing at the Albuquerque Airport?
What were you doing there??”

And hear your question answered by a dream of swelling, undulating cellos. Try to grasp at the melody and structure. It’s not an answer (if there could be one), but it moves deeper, closer to the weird layer of fleeting moments and disconnected images, barely perceptible at its core. Wait for the dream reel to click into place.

Eliza took me for a ride in Nicole (her beloved Dodge Grand Caravan) and told me she’d been thinking of the album as an embodiment of transition – and I think every transition, known or unknown, carries the weight of new meaning, skittering off the surface tension of life as you know it, creating ripples, sometimes bouncing off and sometimes breaking through. There is a trick you can use to tell if a dough is glutinous enough. You’re supposed to stretch it out as thin as you can without breaking it and hold it up to the light. If you can see through, even if it renders the world murky and uncertain, you should leave it alone. I love this trick. It’s one that Eliza seems to know intuitively: work gently and ask questions and don’t always expect answers, and when you can, take a glimpse at something new, and then leave.

Capturing phantom drones behind dusty beats and haunted twangs, Ellis Swan and James Schimpl return for their third album as Dead Bandit. Locked into a musical language unique to their collaboration, the duo once again put us out to pasture across broad sonic plains, drums flapping like loose fence panels in the prairie breeze and bass rumbling like distant thunder. True to their previous two records, Swan and Schimpl keep the strung out guitars at the front of what they do, whether playing a naked, desolate strum or running six strings through disruptive effects processing until they're barely recognisable.
But while there are details of disturbance when listening to Dead Bandit's self-titled record up close, the wider impression is a smoother, more direct affair that toys with post-rock complexity and matches it with the emotional weight of melodic simplicity, gentle grooves and conscious arrangements. 'Weeds' offsets its languid fuzz guitar with shimmering sustained notes before settling into a patient, heavy-hearted composition charged with heartbreak leads pealing out in the middle distance.
By comparison, 'Glass' has a smoky, half-hidden backroom quality. Its brushed whisper of a beat, lingering guitar drones and subtle sub bass come on like a dub wise flip of a sad-eyed country ballad. The mood maintains on 'Half Smoked Cigarette', which captures the grey sky sullenness of post-punk and reframes it in the seductive isolation of rural America. While there's a thickness to the sound on these most direct of tracks on the album, there's also fragility inherent to the sound world Dead Bandit have been shaping out over these past few years.
'Buttercup' swaps sadness for sinister undercurrents, once more drawing on fulsome low end to fill out the sparse threads of instrumentation up top. 'Pink' finds a steady momentum for its own brand of brooding mystery, the sharp end of the beat bringing focus to the many-layered approaches to the guitar which roundly define the Dead Bandit sound. There's an even clearer direction mapped out in the vintage drum machine pulse of 'Koyo', all the better to carry swirling effects treatments and moody melodic figures. Even in these ominous climes there's space for plaintive, endearing hooks which land as the most direct phrases in Dead Bandit's musical lexicon to date.
The fundamental sound across this album holds true, but Dead Bandit are never bound to a singular practice. 'Lucien's Bitters' strikes up a pronounced drum machine beat which comes on like 90s downtempo, and it feels like a natural vessel for the heavy, shoegaze tinted lament of the guitars. At every turn, Swan and Schimpl prove their affinity for all kinds of approaches, and yet the end product is a deeply cohesive, immediate listen that shows just how clear their creative vision really is.

"At the end of the day, a new one begins. Sometimes dust covers the wounded human spirits, nebulizing their ambitious world with melancholy from some far place. Today we met and melded our emotions. Improvisation is the art of becoming sound. Loose lyrics on Hollywood dreams, galaxy economy, and algorithm poetry, banned and warped in drama industrial, synth-journey-music, ghost pop, anger electronics, and analogue deserts. Improvised recording sessions for epochs where head liquefies the concrete. It’s all about fashion, now, that we have recession. Dressed to kill with murder fabrics. The anger of the machines. The happiness in their language. Inkasso & ML asked themselves"

Up In Her Room are delighted to announce their first release of 2025, and a return to the label from Oli Heffernan, aka Ivan the Tolerable!

10 new chunks of lo-fi instrumental library-hop - recorded in 2 days in Summer 2024, ‘Nocturnes’ is the first ITT album of 2025, and the first one made solo by Heffernan since ‘Wild Nature’ in 2019.

Known for his genre-defying and boundary-pushing approach to music, Heffernan – who has spent years experimenting with various styles, instruments and production techniques has crafted a collection of tracks that defy categorization. The new album is a sonic tapestry of atmospheric library music, dusty hip-hop beats, and the organic, unfiltered essence of field recordings, all neatly packaged up into a format that allows each element space to breathe.

‘Nocturnes’ weaves intricate layers of samples, loops, and live instrumentation, combining elements of hip-hop, dub, jazz, and electronic music, all while maintaining a sense of urban cinematic flair.

The album is released by Up In Her Room on limited edition black heavyweight vinyl

Loyle Carner will release his highly anticipated sophomore record, 'Not Waving, But Drowning' on 19 April via AMF Records.

'Not Waving, But Drowning' follows Loyle's BRIT (Best Male, Best Newcomer) and Mercury Prize nominated, top 20 debut 'Yesterday's Gone'. The bedrock of honest and raw sentimentality that you heard on 'Yesterday's Gone' left an inextinguishable mark on music in general and UK Hip Hop in particular, standing out as an ageless, bulletproof debut.

'Not Waving, But Drowning', Loyle's new album, gives yet more evidence - as if it were needed - of his razor-sharp flow and his unique storytelling ability. Yes, he can rap, but he allies that with the sensitivity of a poet, the observational skills of a novelist, and warmth of your best friend. The album opens with 'Dear Jean', a letter to his mother in which he's telling her that he has found the love of his life, 'a woman from the skies', and he's moving out.

It goes without saying that Loyle's music is hard to categorise, but what is even more impressive is that for someone who grew up listening to Mos Def, Biggie Smalls, Roots Manuva, and Wu Tang Clan, he doesn't sound like any of them. Although he might from time to time give lyrical nods to them, he's no imitator.

Loyle loves cooking. There are two tracks on this album named after chefs. The British-Israeli chef Yotam Ottolenghi, and the now deceased Italian chef Antonio Carluccio. 'Ottolenghi' the first single from the album was featured on the BBC Radio 1 B-list, BBC 6 Music A-list and has already been streamed over 5 million times.

Loyle refers to real life for everything, the title of 'Yesterday's Gone' came from a song of his step father, the title of his new album 'Not Waving, But Drowning' comes from a poem by his grandfather, which in turn came from a Stevie Smith poem. What you hear on the track 'Krispy' is real. He is pouring his heart out to his best friend Rebel Kleff after their relationship went downhill, he invites him on the track to say his piece but he doesn't turn up, so we get a flugel solo instead.

Loyle also has his own personal black consciousness movement. When he refers to his 'fathers' in the track 'Looking Back' he really is referring to two fathers. His biological father, a black man who he knows, but knows very little of, and his step father, a poet and musician who happens to be a white man but died a sudden unexpected death from epilepsy (SUDEP). With no real emotional ties to his biological father, but a deep connection with a deceased step-father, where does a young child turn He succinctly captures many of the great, unspoken, cultural and historical paradoxes of multicultural Britain on 'Looking Back'.

An album like this is hard to find. It is for those who like their Hip Hop to have soul, and their soul to have spirit. This is because it works on so many levels, but it is reflecting the personality of its creator. There are a host of collaborators here, Jorja Smith, Rebel Kleff, Kiko Bun, Kwes, Jordan Rakei, Sampha, Tom Misch and more, but none are overpowering. They blend righteously into place.
Loyle is not bitter with people who have let him down, or a society that lets so many down, but the combination of anger and love he has gives his voice the perfect blend of strength and vulnerability. This might be a coming of age album, but it's also a coming of ageless album. Loyle's 2019 Spring tour - which includes London's Roundhouse - sold out within 20 minutes of being on sale.

Not Waving, But Drowning



A rapper that raps about family is hard to find. The boys in the 'hood' tend not to be that interested in how much a 'brother' loves his mother, or how much he misses his dad, or even how much he misses his best friend. The boys in the 'hood' tend to be obsessed with the size of their cars, girls, bank accounts, and other personal 'possessions'. Loyle Carner's Mercury and BRIT Prize nominated debut 'Yesterday's Gone' (Released 2017), made it clear that he wasn't that kind of rapper. In fact, every time I talk to him about his work we talk about the world, and we tended to confuse ourselves by calling his work rap, poems, or songs, sometimes in the same sentence. They are in truth all of these things.



Here's some poetry.



Honestly I need them.

I hate them but I grieve them

I think I've finally found the reason

Trust

Like the fire needs the air.

I won't burn unless you're there.





'Not Waving, But Drowning', Loyle's forthcoming new album, gives us yet more evidence, (if it were needed), that he still has what rappers call, flow, but he hasn't lost any of his story telling qualities. Yes, the boy can rap, but a rapper with the sensitivity of a true poet, the observational skills of a novelist, and warmth of your best friend. The album opens with 'Dear Jean', a letter to his mother in which he's telling her that he has found the love of his life, (a woman from the skies), and he's moving out. He really loves the woman from the skies, but he still loves his mum, and so he reassures her that there is no competition, and tells her that 'She's not behind me or behind you, but beside we and beside two', his words. Or to put it another way, moving out without moving out. My words.



It goes without saying that Loyle's music is hard to categorise, but what is even more impressive is that for someone who grew up listening to Mos Def, Biggie Smalls, Roots Manuva, and Wu Tang Clan, he doesn't sound like any of them. Although he might from time to time give lyrical nods to them, he's no imitator. He says finding his own voice was something he always found easy. Although young, (in terms of a musical career), he has confidence in his own words and his own voice, and has never been tempted to sound like he's been hanging out in the USA, or rolling in 'Grime' on the mean streets of East London. And so when it comes to the creative process he doesn't simply find a beat to jump on and ride. Beats are important, but they are tenderly layered with samples, keyboards, or live drums, all imaginatively assembled for the laying on of words. Some tracks start with the idea, some with poetry, and some with a verse from a singer or some other melodic inspiration, but there is no formula.



Here's some poetry.



Don't hold any memories of us

Rather hold you everyday until the memories are dust

Yo we only caught the train

Cos you know I hate the bus





A prolific reader, who has dyslexia is hard to find. Add ADHD (Attention deficit hyperactivity disorder) to that and life should become even more difficult. To deal with your difficulties you devise coping strategies, which can differ from person to person. Loyle loves cooking. There are two tracks on this album named after chefs. The British-Israeli chef Ottolenghi, and the now deceased Italian chef Antonio Carluccio. Loyle describes himself as 'weird' because he is happy to read a cookbook as if he was reading a novel or a book of poetry. He has opened a cookery school for young adults not just because he loves food and wants to make more of it, but because it is one of the few things that can focus the ADHD mind. And when it comes to his other love, football, his approach is the same. Focus. He wanted to be a striker he says, up front scoring goals, but found his best position was in midfield because he was able to focus, check options, and see passes ahead of time, providing passes for other players just when they needed them. He says, 'You don't grow out of ADHD, you grow into it.' Loyle is also working with Levi's® on their music project where he is mentoring young musicians over a six month period, culminating at Liverpool Sound City festival.



More poetry.



When the going is tough

I wait till it falls on deaf ears

Hearsay

Without the boundaries of love



He also said, 'Ask most people and they will say that they love their mothers, but most are not going to rap about her'. On his first album Loyle's mum Jean wrote about the 'scribble of a boy' that growing up would take things apart to see how they worked. On this album she speaks with pride about a man who has found his place in the world.



Yes, poetry.



I'm still looking for the answers

Trying to find the right questions

Still waiting for my fathers

But can't break them in to sections



This poetry is serious. Loyle has his own personal black consciousness movement. He told me that he always felt safe at home, and being the darkest one in the family never meant a thing, but then when he had to face the outside world he felt hostility. It shook him up. Now he had to start asking questions, but what were the questions. This is serious. When he refers to his 'fathers' in the verse above taken from the track 'Looking Back' he really is referring to two fathers. His biological father, a black man who he knows, but knows very little of, and his step father, a poet and musician who happens to be a white man but died a sudden unexpected death from epilepsy (SUDEP). So to whom would a young black (or mixed race) kid turn He succinctly captures many of the great, unspoken, cultural and historical paradoxes of multicultural Britain when he says, 'My great grandfather could of owned my other one.' We are a people descended from enslaved people on one hand, and enslavers on the other, something we are still struggling to come to terms with, and this can be apparent in one family. A big book could have told you that, but here we get it in one line on the track, Looking Back.





Loyle refers to real life for everything. The album is peppered with captured moments that he records on his phone. These moments can range from conversations with taxi drivers, to capturing the moment when England scores a goal in the world cup. The title of 'Yesterday's Gone' came from a song of his step father, the title of his new album 'Not Waving but Drowning' comes from a poem by his grandfather, which in turn came from a Stevie Smith poem. What you hear on the track 'Krispy' is real. He is pouring his heart out to his best friend after their relationship went downhill, he invites him on the track to say his piece but he doesn't turn up, so we get a flugel solo instead. Yes people, this is real.



An album like this is hard to find. It is for those who like their Hip Hop to have soul, and their soul to have spirit, this is an album for those who have, (I'm sorry, I'm going to say it), emotional intelligence. This is because it works on so many levels, but it is reflecting the personality of its creator. There are a host of collaborators here, Jorja Smith, Rebel Kleff, Kiko Bun, Jordan Rakei, Sampha, Tom Misch and more, but none are overpowering. They blend righteously into place. Loyle is not bitter with people who have let him down, or the society that has let him down, but the combination of anger and love he has gives his voice the perfect blend of strength and vulnerability. This might be a coming of age album, but it's also a coming of ageless album. His first album worked, and this second album is a continuation of that work. Not creating a form, but being formless, as someone like Bruce Lee once said.

And here's some poetry from mum.



We talked long in to the darkest hours

Until we saw the burnished sky

And our eyes stung

As our words blurred and became thoughts

As we were silenced by the dawn

We clung to each other like sailors in a storm

The influence of the UK’s Steel City on electronic music is well documented and undisputed and continues to push the envelope with key figures such as Winston Hazel (Forgemasters, The Step), DJ Parrot/Crooked Man, Richard Benson (RAC, SWAG, Altern 8), Chris Duckenfield (RAC, Popular Peoples Front, SWAG, All Ears Distribution), a thriving underground club scene and the likes of Synaptic Voyager reinforcing the city’s rich musical legacy.

Matt White and Paul Baines have been making off-kilter, emotive, late night electronic jams since meeting in the early 90’s and while life took them on different paths for a while, they have recently blown the thick layer of dust from their synths and drum machines and got busy in the studio to create some amazing new music which draws influence from that classic UK techno sound which played such an important part in the development of dance music culture around the world. With recent releases on Frame Of Mind, Acquit and Telomere Plastic the duo are clearly on a roll, wearing the heritage of their city on their sleeve and delivering what can only be described as heartfelt, authentic machine music made with love and soul.

From the opening beats of lead track Dawn Till Dusk we are drawn in to another place which feels comfortably familiar yet organic, fluid and loose in a way that tugs on the heartstrings. A million miles from cookie-cutter tech house, this is two guys in a bedroom studio, digging deep on hardware machines to create a sound to get completely lost in. Lonely Promontory takes things deeper still with immersive pads, taught electro beats and blissed-out melodic lines which give just hint of optimism and recall those beloved sounds of B12, Redcell and Likemind.

Flipping over we have Stellar Engine which goes a littler heavier on the beats and bass whilst still retaining a floating quality, once again highlighting the hardware jam workflow that Synaptic Voyager utilise in their studio. Once Exposed takes us back to those heady days of the early 90’s when techno, house and ambient electronics combined to create a heady blend of deep atmospherics and driving beats which could work on both dance floors and car stereos alike. Rounding off the EP we have Cognitive Network which goes for a straighter four on the floor techno groove and a killer bassline to lose yourself in. These recordings were delivered to the label in unedited long form (some tracks totalling 15 minutes or more in length!) which Jimpster lovingly edited into the versions which you hear on this release.

Hypnotism I is a new album from Foundation that the artist himself says has been a cherished part of his work since shortly after his previous work Mountain Ambient IV. We're told that its creation was a slow, immersive process that unfolded over months, with each layer evolving patiently. By composing intuitively, the album emerged naturally to reflect a glacial depth and subconscious growth. Its four pieces are all richly layered soundscapes with wispy melodies and dusty drones that sink you in deep and free your mind of all woes.

Jacob Long’s fourth full-length for Kranky began as a notion to reimagine Earthen Sea as a “piano trio,” inspired by a year-long immersion in the ECM label catalog, but the compositions soon grew more complex.

Elements were chopped and resampled, then layered with bass, drums, percussion, and additional keys. The result is a fusion of live band acoustics and downtempo loops, sculpted into nine smoke-and-mirror dubs of fractured jazz, soft-focus noir, and trip-hop dust: Recollection.

Like the title implies, Long’s playing and production share a mood of pensive movement, shuffling and rippling like uncertain memories at strange hours.

From looming fog (“Present Day,” “Neon Ruins”) and shadowy breaks (“Another Space,” “Cloudy Vagueness”) to rosy glows (“Clear Photograph”) and smeared reverie (“White Sky”), Recollection deftly wields its palette of gradient color and subdued states of beauty.

His is a music of reduction and reflection, kinetic but oblique, attuned to the silhouettes of sound.

Detroit innovator and singular soundsmith Theo Parrish returns with a new EP which we're told is his response to "stagnation and nonmovement" either physiologically, mentally or physically. 'Positive Mental Attitude Solves All' is up first and is a tribute to the late great funk-father Amp Fiddler. It's a typically deep cut with dusty drums and irregular, scruffy percussive lines layered in next to diffuse synth warmth and soulful melodies. 'Traffic Jams' plays with similar signature themes and is sure to loosen up mind, body and soul. Another standout bit of work from the venerable Motor City man.

Who is Isabelle Lewis, anyway?

What kind of music does she make? Is she an opera singer? Does she write pop songs? Does she compose ethereal ambient soundscapes? Does she play chamber music on the violin? Is she producing dark, electronic beats?

Well… yes. But Isabelle Lewis is not so much a person as a project. Isabelle’s debut album, Greetings, credits a trio of composer–performers at its heart: producer Valgeir Sigurðsson, vocalist Benjamin Abel Meirhaeghe, and violinist Elisabeth Klinck. The sound of the elusive Isabelle Lewis is heard most clearly in the push and pull between them, the three-way tension that gives the album its musical and emotional drive.

Each of the three brings more to the collaboration than those epithets might imply. Elisabeth’s solo performance practice incorporates composition, improvisation, live electronics, and a close command of bowing and fingering techniques that make her fiddle sing, whisper or whistle as required. Benjamin is a self-taught countertenor - keening, crooning, and swelling to a voluptuous sensuality—but also an interdisciplinary stage director and performer. Well known for his work as a producer and studio collaborator, and as a composer of scores for film and stage, Valgeir’s solo discography interweaves meticulously crafted electronics, drones, noise, and other digital elements with acoustic instruments and vocals recorded with naked, unflinching clarity.

But the extravagant theatricality Benjamin brings to the aptly titled “Drama”—also featuring a heroic violin solo from Elisabeth—grapples against the thudding bass of the implacable digital backdrop. On “Mother, Shelter Me” Valgeir’s austere and detailed production throws the hushed violin and vocals into stark relief. The result is an exquisitely uncanny juxtaposition of past and present, human and mechanical, like a Rococo treasure viewed under cold fluorescent lights, or an 18th-century automaton slowly opening its clockwork eyes.

Even the lyrics seem somehow out of time. On “O Solitude,” Benjamin goes so far as to quote an entire song by the first great English opera composer, Henry Purcell, verbatim. No stranger to Purcell’s music, which has made its way into Benjamin’s theatrical productions as well, here Isabelle Lewis removes Purcell’s melodies and harmonies and sets the text, Katherine Phillips’s 17th century translation of a poem by Antoine Girard de Saint-Amant, to new music whose heightened, archaic character nevertheless seems haunted by Baroque ghosts.

Throughout the album, the outsized emotions and timeless archetypes of Benjamin’s lyrics feel like relics from some half-forgotten past—from the neatly rhymed couplets of “Fisherman,” a seemingly straightforward (but still somewhat askew) character study, to the abstraction of “Moonshell,” whose words seem like the fragments of some ancient, lost lament. It is just another of many ways in which Isabelle Lewis carefully distorts the listener’s notions of time. On a more micro level, time can stop for a moment of weightless, drifting ambience, and then plunge forward as the cloud of harmonies suddenly lock into tempo with the drop of the bass or the change of a chord. Or else that weightless moment is allowed to be, as in the aptly named prologue and epilogue to these Greetings (“Voicemail”/“…and farewell”), or in the interstitial tracks that bind the album together, connecting its dramatic peaks with expanses of meditative stasis.

The album as a whole is elegantly shaped, swelling from an intimate, interpersonal statement into something deeper and more spacious. The first half of the album leans slightly towards self-contained pop songcraft and ticking beats, while side B jumps off from “O Solitude” into the almost symphonic grandeur of songs like “Moonshell” or the instrumental “Not the water, air, or the dirt.”

But as it progresses, the contrasts only grow more sublime: antique and postmodern, human and machinelike. The ominous weight of the droning sub-bass and trombone (guest player Helgi Hrafn Jónsson) only makes the interplay between vocals and violins (guest player Daniel Pioro joining Elisabeth) seem more delicate and vulnerable. The ethereal string tremolos of “Moonshell” seem to pull against the heavy, shuddering electronics and layers of crooning vocals.

And that, in short, is where you will find Isabelle Lewis. Like an ancient stone archway, or a delicate house of cards, the architecture of Greetings is held together by the tension between opposing forces. Not just in Elisabeth’s playing, Benjamin’s singing, or Valgeir’s arrangements and production but in the conflict and contrast that generates the synergy between them.

Oh—Isabelle says hi, by the way. She’s looking forward to meeting you.

Maai proudly presents a split EP featuring two distinguished Barcelona based talents. On the A side, the Peruvian trio of JJ Beteta, Alonso Bauer and Stefan Cukic delivers a dynamic array of tracks. "Layers" kicks off with an energetic blend of dusty breaks, setting the vibe for the EP. Following this, "Go The Data" takes over with its driving acid bassline, strong rhythm, for a dark and hypnotic vibe. The trio wraps up their side with "Wonky Afthermath," a subtle yet funky combination of deep, groovy elements and breaks that keeps the energy flowing.

On the B side, Canarian artist Javier Carballo, performing under his Look Perry alias, offers a captivating contrast. "I Can't Love U" introduces a track enriched with otherworldly pads and synths, creating an immersive sonic environment. The EP concludes with "Stone Pilots", which takes listeners on a smooth journey through intricate breaks, providing a perfect counterpoint to the A side’s energetic flair. This split EP showcases a rich tapestry of local talent and diverse electronic sounds.

Using a variety of tape stocks, Black Swan creates a haunting atmosphere that evokes the sensation of uncovering long-lost, sacred recordings hidden in time on his ninth album, Ghost.

The New York-based artist reveals that he was inspired by musique concrete and ambient while making the record, which is made up of 20 pieces that all form a continuous suite. Each track varies in length and complexity from short and sweet sketches to more elongated studies and that are made from intense layering and harmonic surges using an array of tape stocks.

The result is a haunting, unearthly atmosphere that sounds perfect in this cassette format.

Austrian electronic music producer Peter Kalcic, better known as B.Visible, is set to release his third studio album titled "Life is my Hobby" on October 10th through his own imprint, Data Snacks.
This new album sees B.Visible continuing to blend genres, drawing inspiration from the trip-hop sounds of the 90s, the R&B of the 80s, and mellow house music. True to his signature style, he maintains a balanced mix of acoustic drum sounds, electric pianos, and shimmering synths.
Unlike his previous works, the creation process for "Life is my Hobby" extended beyond the traditional studio setting. Much of the album was crafted in his newly moved apartment and various cafes in Vienna's 5th district. His collaboration partners were close to home, literally-Anda Reverie and Silvia Ponce Marti, his upstairs and downstairs neighbors, respectively, feature as vocalists on the album.
Silvia Ponce Marti's contribution for instance is featured on the track "Ella," which addresses the sensitive issue of the hyper-sexualization of the female body in today's society. She also created a stunning mixed media video for the song, which can be viewed here.
Anda Reverie appears on the track "Bad Karma," portraying an alien questioning the moral implications of humanity's destruction. The music video for this song brings the scenario to life with dreamy environments and unsettling projections.
B.Visible describes the album's creation as guided by causality, resulting in a less experimental and more accessible sound-his closest encounter with pop music to date. Asked about the title he keeps quite. The listener is encouraged to form their own opinion from the impressions.


BIO (EN)
Viennese producer B.Visible is always pushing his craft forward, with each concept being an evolution. His music is mutating organically as each project brings novelty, but always while blending sharp electronic components with dusty acoustic layers. That duality exists in every aspect of his creative journey, with DJ sets revolving around second-hand records and modern-day productions, but also his live project offering a whole new dimension and generosity to the audience. B.Visible melts the barrier between analog and digital in a such distinctive and elegant way that it feels natural.

Over a catalog of six albums, Native Harrow have produced a discography of “rich, engrossing records” and “instant classics” while single-mindedly following their own artistic code, acquiescing only to the exigence of the song: each song its own world with its own rules.

Formed a decade ago, Native Harrow spent their first five or six years crisscrossing the United States and Canada on numerous tours, averaging more than 150 concerts per year in 47 states and 4 provinces, on the back of two self-released albums, Ghost (2015) and Sorores (2017). In 2019, they released Happier Now, partnering with London alt-country stalwarts Loose Records. The record garnered glowing reviews, with Rough Trade selecting it for its album of the month, writing “Beautifully soaring... rolling grooves ground languid and dreamy clearwater shimmers of sound.” The critical acclaim and Americana chart success of the album prompted three back-to-back UK tours in 2019 and early 2020, ultimately leading to a three-year stint living and touring in the UK and Europe. In this time, Native Harrow released two more critically acclaimed records with Loose; Closeness (2020) and Old Kind of Magic (2022), playing for audiences ranging from rock clubs in Norway and Sweden to opera halls in Portugal, and every stop in-between, as well as performing at festivals such as BST Hyde Park (supporting the Eagles and Robert Plant & Alison Kraus), Greenman Festival, Black Deer Festival, The Great Escape, Celtic Connections, Moseley Folk Festival, SXSW, and many more.

Following the eruption of its title track, Side A of “Divided Kind” transitions nimbly through hazy tremolo-laden dusty canyons, past an intimate soulful love letter, and towards a moody anthem of devotion buoyed by propulsive grooves, before ultimately settling on a gentle bird’s-eye-view of love and transcendence. Side B opens with the debut single, “Goin’ Nowhere” a soul transmission over incendiary bass and undulating layers of guiro, congas, tambourines, shakers, and handclaps that sidesteps into moments of infinite dial-toned burnished, Rhodes-propelled soul-jazz and self-assured blues rock à gogo before ending in a spectral folk reading on celestial meditation.

“Divided Kind” was produced and recorded by the pair, in their home studio surrounded by the vintage acoustic and electric guitars, dusty semi-functional amplifiers, and out-of-date Rhodes, B3, piano, and assorted percussion they’ve grown accustomed to. Chicago-based Alex Hall was again drafted to add drums and to mix, and Philadelphia drummer and engineer Joshua Friedman mastered the record. London-based musician Joe Harvey-Whyte added the pedal steel to “Borrowing Time”, with all other voices and instruments being performed by Tuel and Harms.

2024 repress

Rush Hour’s RSS series excels in unearthing buried treasure, offering a second chance for artists and releases that have long been overlooked. That’s certainly the case with ‘Witches’, the superb sole single by British 1980s wave trio Zenana.

Originally released on seven-inch by the tiny PRM label in 1986, ‘Witches’ was the product of a sister-brother songwriting team whose music was mostly recorded in the front room of a terraced house in Nanpean, a small industrial village in Cornwall, England’s most south-westerly county. While the single was infectious, impeccably produced and dancefloor-ready, it sold in limited quantities at the time.

Zenana’s story can be traced back to the early 1980s, when singer-songwriter Anita Tedder founded the all-female trio as a vehicle for her musical ambitions. To bring her songs to life, she joined voices with her brother Mike, an early adopter of electronic music who had built a studio – nicknamed MFR, short for ‘Mike’s Front Room’ – in his Cornish home.

Countless Zenana tracks were recorded at ‘MFR’ between 1984 and ’86, with the resultant demo cassette securing the band a management contract, a slew of live bookings, a video shoot and even a television appearance. Buoyed by this underground success, they headed to the remote Sawmills Studio in Cornwall – famously only accessible by boat – to re-record ‘Witches’, a song inspired by local folk tales of witches gathering near Mike’s home.

While this version of ‘Witches’ failed to make an impact at the time, it has become something of a cult classic following its’ rediscovery by crate digger Kiernan Abbott – and subsequent championing by other dusty-fingered DJs including Antal, Skyrager, Trevor Jackson and Luke Una – in early 2023. The buzz inspired Zenana to perform live again for the first time in decades, with the story of their surprise comeback being covered by British media outlets including the BBC and (more surprisingly) the Daily Mail.

Now presented in re-mastered form, ‘Witches’ is a genuinely slept-on gem. Propelled forwards by punchy drum machine beats, a killer synth bassline and fizzing keyboard sounds, the song benefits greatly from strong vocals and an extra-percussive middle eight layered with vocalisations, cosmic spoken word sections and swirling noises.

It comes backed by a brand-new extended ‘spell of love’ courtesy of Bristol duo Bedmo Disco, AKA music journalist Matt Anniss (author of Join The Future: Bleep Techno and the Birth of British Bass Music) and DJ/production partner Gareth Morgan. Anniss is a long-time friend of Mike and Anita Tedder who has fond memories of visiting Mike’s home studio with his family around the time that ‘Witches’ was recorded.

Working from Zenana’s original MFR eight-track recording (tapes of the single version were lost years ago), Anniss and Morgan have turned in the extended ‘dance mix’ the track never had first time around. More atmospheric, clandestine and dancefloor-focused, it offers authentic nods to New York proto-house, mid-80s Shep Pettibone dubs, and the pioneering synth-pop productions and dub mixes of Factory Records regular Martin Rushent.

While Duster went into hibernation in the year 2000, Clay Parton's four-track never stopped rolling. Recorded alone at home over several years, Birds In The Ground is an album of 30-something, post-9/11 malaise. Under his Eiafuawn (Everything Is All Fucked Up And What Not) acronym, Parton hides beneath layers of fuzzy and clean guitars, his hesitant, cottony vocal disappear into noise. This deluxe pressing is packaged in a gorgeous tip on sleeve and includes the complete lyrics for this cryptic entry of the Dusterverse.

Crack Cloud has always been something beyond a rock band: both profound and grand, vaporous and elusive. The first iteration of Crack Cloud was formed nearly a decade ago as a proxy-rehab outlet on the fringes of Calgary. Over time, two EPs and accompanying visual pieces were produced out of the residence known as Red Mile. By 2017, several members had relocated to Vancouver, working out of harm reduction centers and low-barrier shelters. Sobriety, self-reformation and the idealism of their work further formed an ethos for Crack Cloud. It was during these years that the band produced their astounding 2020 album Pain Olympics. At once, their vision became expansive, cinematic. Now, Red Mile is a bit of a homecoming. Members have returned to Calgary. But Calgary/home has become a liminal space, a place of flux. After a decade of personal and collective growth, what does home even mean? Red Mile is, for them, something like samsara: a return and a rebirth. Red Mile's sound breathes expansive energy into the circuitous, street bound sonics of Crack Cloud's prior material. Fizzling synths intertwine with chiming pianos. Songs layer like Russian nesting dolls; one may find a Ramones chorus set within a desolate Western prog soundtrack only to watch it erupt into a joyous anthem. Real-ass guitars _ alternately lilting, scuzzy and soaring _ ring out across wide sun-bleached spaces. In 2024, the cumulative effect is (in rock instrumentation terms) naturalistic. Any whiff of embalmed nostalgia is absent. Even the close of the album - a winding, almost Jerry Garcia guitar noodle that leads us out of Red Mile - is delivered without sentimentality. Principal songwriter Zach Choy's lyrics are cutting but merciful, with a sharp self-awareness that never slides into self-satisfaction. Crack Cloud as artists are critical _ and ultimately as forgiving _ of themselves as they are the melting world around them. The songs balance an easy charm and cathartic power: affirming life without denying death. Recorded predominantly between the outskirts of Joshua Tree California, and Calgary, Alberta, this record is informed by a bittersweet mélange of old and new. The sprawling, novelistic structures of their previous albums are condensed and sharpened, while maintaining their refusal to delve into superficiality. Through playful melodies and elliptical guitar soliloquy, they deliver a final product of exceptional depth and distinctly unprecious warmth. Crack Cloud have produced a mature, vital work that interrogates the platitudes of the rock-n-roll lifestyle, but ultimately exalts its sacredness. Red Mile's de facto thesis statement "The Medium" is itself a rock song meditation: an ode to the form and its practitioners. This genre that _ typical, repeatable, corporatized as it can be _ somehow still has the power to help us live through life. We see the dusty sentiment of "I love rock and roll" exhumed, taken apart, and stitched back together. It's a song guided by faith _ if the medium helps us proclaim our love today, it's worth protecting from derision tomorrow. We live in an era where music seems to love hitting its head against the wall. Crack Cloud's Red Mile is the sound _ the feeling! _ of the bricks giving way.

Crack Cloud has always been something beyond a rock band: both profound and grand, vaporous and elusive. The first iteration of Crack Cloud was formed nearly a decade ago as a proxy-rehab outlet on the fringes of Calgary. Over time, two EPs and accompanying visual pieces were produced out of the residence known as Red Mile. By 2017, several members had relocated to Vancouver, working out of harm reduction centers and low-barrier shelters. Sobriety, self-reformation and the idealism of their work further formed an ethos for Crack Cloud. It was during these years that the band produced their astounding 2020 album Pain Olympics. At once, their vision became expansive, cinematic. Now, Red Mile is a bit of a homecoming. Members have returned to Calgary. But Calgary/home has become a liminal space, a place of flux. After a decade of personal and collective growth, what does home even mean? Red Mile is, for them, something like samsara: a return and a rebirth. Red Mile's sound breathes expansive energy into the circuitous, street bound sonics of Crack Cloud's prior material. Fizzling synths intertwine with chiming pianos. Songs layer like Russian nesting dolls; one may find a Ramones chorus set within a desolate Western prog soundtrack only to watch it erupt into a joyous anthem. Real-ass guitars _ alternately lilting, scuzzy and soaring _ ring out across wide sun-bleached spaces. In 2024, the cumulative effect is (in rock instrumentation terms) naturalistic. Any whiff of embalmed nostalgia is absent. Even the close of the album - a winding, almost Jerry Garcia guitar noodle that leads us out of Red Mile - is delivered without sentimentality. Principal songwriter Zach Choy's lyrics are cutting but merciful, with a sharp self-awareness that never slides into self-satisfaction. Crack Cloud as artists are critical _ and ultimately as forgiving _ of themselves as they are the melting world around them. The songs balance an easy charm and cathartic power: affirming life without denying death. Recorded predominantly between the outskirts of Joshua Tree California, and Calgary, Alberta, this record is informed by a bittersweet mélange of old and new. The sprawling, novelistic structures of their previous albums are condensed and sharpened, while maintaining their refusal to delve into superficiality. Through playful melodies and elliptical guitar soliloquy, they deliver a final product of exceptional depth and distinctly unprecious warmth. Crack Cloud have produced a mature, vital work that interrogates the platitudes of the rock-n-roll lifestyle, but ultimately exalts its sacredness. Red Mile's de facto thesis statement "The Medium" is itself a rock song meditation: an ode to the form and its practitioners. This genre that _ typical, repeatable, corporatized as it can be _ somehow still has the power to help us live through life. We see the dusty sentiment of "I love rock and roll" exhumed, taken apart, and stitched back together. It's a song guided by faith _ if the medium helps us proclaim our love today, it's worth protecting from derision tomorrow. We live in an era where music seems to love hitting its head against the wall. Crack Cloud's Red Mile is the sound _ the feeling! _ of the bricks giving way.

Boxed set of five 7-inch vinyl records, 300 copies limited edition. Artwork poster included.

All tracks remastered from the original master tapes.

Alessandro Alessandroni is no longer remembered simply as 'the whistler' in Morricone's spaghetti western soundtracks – and rightly so, since he was the key figure behind much of Italian 'secret music' from the 60s and 70s, always there in the studio during recording sessions, whether as a multi-instrumentalist or as the leader of session vocal group I Cantori Moderni di Alessandroni. Today his pervasive presence and important role has been finally recognized by music professionals and enthusiasts alike, so much so that he is now considered the true father of Italian library music – a genre whose sound he shaped since 1968.


As a film composer, Alessandroni often worked for small productions that had very limited (and often regional-only) distribution, and whose budgets were worlds apart from those in the 'top league' where friends and colleagues like Morricone, Bacalov, Trovajoli or Piccioni thrived. Rarely released as a soundtrack, this music ended up, at best, forgotten inside dusty ¼-inch reels or, at worst, disappearing into thin air.

After a string of releases that have brought back to life forgotten or lost works by Alessandroni (Sangue di Sbirro, Afro Discoteca, Lost and Found, etc.), it was pretty natural for us at Four Flies to start delving into a little investigated area of his filmography: his scores for erotic films, the last genre to gain popularity in the flourishing Italian film industry of the 60s and 70s, and perhaps the most extreme too, the one that, by pushing things too far, eventually put an end to that industry and its genres.

So, we're now very proud to present Alessandroni Proibito, an exclusive boxed set of five 7-inch records. It contains a total of 14 previously unreleased tracks from the soundtracks of 4 soft-core erotic films that included hard-core sequences and, therefore, fell somewhere in-between normal commercial distribution and the underground scene of adult movie theatres.

Taking an artisanal approach to his musical craft, Alessandroni was not afraid of having to deal with spicy subject matter, wobbly productions, implausible plots, improvised actors, or cinematographers who were clearly no disciples of Storaro. And he was so good at making a virtue out of necessity, at turning budget constraints into creative advantages, that he created soundtracks that far surpass the films' quality, with music that at once captures and elevates the spirit of the erotic genre as if into a condensed symbol.

More specifically, the maestro recorded many of the pieces in a DIY fashion at home, using a 4-track Teac tape machine to arrange his compositions. The Teac allowed him to play different instruments on each track, which meant he could basically put an entire soundtrack together all by himself, or almost all by himself.

These recordings often feature drum machines – which provide that retro, early electronic music vibe – as well as funk guitars and exotic-sounding percussion in the rhythm tracks. In addition, there is an extensive, almost bewildering use of synthesizers to replace solo instruments that would have required a paid session player. On top this minimalist arrangement, Alessandroni layered what he could: some piano chords, a little flute and, most importantly, his signature 12-string guitar phrasing.

The result is just stunning: a unique mixture of electronic music and acoustic instruments, in a style that stops short of kitsch and ranges from cinematic ambient pieces like "Tensione erotica" to disco-funk tracks like "Snake Disco" and "One Sunday Morning", both of which feature vocals by Alessandroni himself.

Alessandroni Proibito comes with artwork by Eric Adrien Lee and a matching 30x70cm folded poster inspired to the insert-size posters which used to be hung outside movie theatres to attract cinema-goers.

The boxed set is being released in a limited edition of just 300 copies and will never be reissued. First come, first served.

Rhythm N Vibe treats us to four different and equally brilliant garage cuts here from four different and equally brilliant artists. Marc Cotterell opens up with the slinky and dusty drums of '96 Is Back' powered by a rasping bassline. Jason Ward then brings some fresh 90s sounds with a neon baseline and diva vocals on 'The Meaning' while J Erazo keeps it deep and paired back on the sublime 'The Pulse' which is a real late night warmer. Paul French then layers up nice fresh and bumping drum funk on his lovely number 'Jump' (unreleased dub). There is lots to love here on a very useful EP.

Irish producer Balmr lands on Selections after nice outings on the likes of Sofa Movement Records, Kolour Detroit and Expanded Records which have all established him as a fresh deep house artist. His love for the Motor City shines through again here with the warm, dubby drums and swirling pads of 'In Search Of' bring to mind the Midwest's best. Jon Dixon remixes with a little extra bite in the percussion and 'Forager' then layers up more dusty drums and wooden hits with diffuse synth curlicues. It's a sound that works on both head and heel and lastly, Glenn Davis remixes with a touch of jazzy cosmic class to his synth work.

Experience the sonic journey that is The Black Dog's latest album, "Other, Like Me," as they delve into the intricacies of the artist's psyche, questioning the very essence of individuality and creative worth. The album invites listeners to confront darker thoughts about self-identity, imposter syndrome, and the relentless pursuit of creative value, all while celebrating the joy found in the act of artistic creation. In this introspective exploration, The Black Dog challenge both themselves and their audience, creating a musical experience that is profoundly personal and open to interpretation. The themes woven throughout the album are a poignant counterpoint between the shadows of self-doubt and the exuberance of creative expression. It's an inward exploration, offering a place of solace for listeners to find comfort amid the chaos of external influences. The album's title, "Other, Like Me", draws inspiration from an interview with Cosey Fanni Tutti in 1999, resonating deeply with The Black Dog's outsider perspective. The phrase encapsulates the essence of the album, reflecting the band's unique identity and shared experiences, while respecting each member's individual passions and interests. Navigating the waters of cognitive dissonance, The Black Dog bring an authenticity to their music that mirrors the internal and external conflicts of the contemporary music scene. With a commitment to stripping back layers and allowing the heart of each song to shine through, "Other, Like Me" offers a raw and unfiltered musical experience that speaks directly to the soul. It's an invitation to introspection, a celebration of independence, and a testament to the power of authentic artistic expression.

Y2K prepper-rock for the underemployed. Tracked at home in 1999, the 1975 EP expands on Stratosphere's slacker-positive dreamscape, with layers of guitars both clean and fuzzy, humming organ, and_gasp!_a drum machine. Needle down, candles on.

Bewilderment - the feeling of being perplexed and confused - is the inspiration behind Pale Jay's new album. It's a soulful exploration of a family's gradual disintegration due to years of avoidance and miscommunication. During this difficult time, Pale Jay began to question the stories he had always lived with and re-examined his identity. The resulting work, Bewilderment, is his first full-length album, which strives to find answers to these questions and more. The album is set to release on 8/18/2023 on Karma Chief Records, a subsidiary of Colemine.Pale Jay is a trained jazz vocalist and pianist, and he wrote, recorded, and produced all songs on the album, except for 'By The Lake', which is a collaboration with labelmates Okonski - Steve Okonski, Aaron Frazer, and Michael Montgomery. Pale Jay's music is influenced by a wide range of songwriters, including Labi Siffre, Carole King, and William Onyeabor. 'Bewilderment' is a seamless blend of Pale Jay's trademark dusty soul, slow disco, and Afrobeat, with string arrangements by Raven Bush adding an extra layer of magic to the beat- heavy productions.Pale Jay's debut LP is a captivating journey of self-discovery. Each song on Bewilderment tells a unique story, but they all share a common theme of personal growth and self-understanding. Grab a copy on 8/18/2023 to dive in and experience the new album.

Throw the gauntlet: Fast Castle is back with Gent1e $oul’s “Shoals”-EP, our furthest excursion into the unexplored depths of mind-bending bassweight! Having perfected his build order on his recent “Block Printing'' and “Silk Armor”-EPs, Gent1e $oul continues to infuse his productions with sonic bass strategies over five versatile tracks.

“Dark Age” provides an aggressive opening, immediately applying pressure with nasty bass wobbles, dembow echoes and a 4x4 switch that might catch distracted players off guard. Tried and tested in many settings, this is an essential option for the incoming dancefloor rush!

With its heavy neo-stepper energy, ”Bad Neighbor” lays siege to dancefloor resistance with a piercing lead, breathing drums and powerful waves of sub wubs. Just like the AoE2’s legendary trebuchet of the same name, “Bad Neighbor” – paired with the right Soundsystem – will make the walls shake.

“Dusty Acer” is a homage to Gent1e $oul’s dear but aging AoE2 gaming machine, capable of producing similar noises to this dark UKG cuts’ central bassline.

Deep dubstep cut “Illumination” takes us to the for a wholesome mana refill: Mystic ambiences make you pull down your cowl, before diving into a fully blown sub massage.

The standout self-titled cut “Shoals” concludes the release: A deep-yet-powerful half-stepping perc grower at 160bpm, operating on subdued rhythmic shifts and layers.

As a special tribute to the AoE2 community, all tunes are flavored with the game's original sound effects. Thanks for keeping us inspired, Nili_Aoe for NAC5 and T90 for HC5!

Tulsa, Oklahoma's Unwed Sailor have been on a tear over the past few years. Following a quiet phase through much of the 2010s, they reëmerged with the aptly titled Heavy Age (2019), and two more full-lengths, Truth Or Consequences (2021) and Mute The Charm (2023), that chart a remarkable evolution of their bass-led, pop-leaning post rock. On Underwater Over There - their ninth LP overall - a current of 80s goth and jangle-pop runs beneath a litany of memorable hooks and compositional left turns, creating a propulsive and intricate world of sound. The band worked collectively on all elements of mixing and production to craft a meticulously layered environment, while maintaining an air of spontaneity and experimentation across the set. Early standout, "Final Feather", drifts through varying landscapes of airiness and haze on a high-neck bass hook, while the hum of voices adds a contrast of angelic comfort. Bearing influence from New Order and The Cure in particular, its balance of gravitas and shimmer is the result of founding member Johnathon Ford's intuitive writing method: the lead bass line comes first, followed by supporting melodies, drums, guitars, keys, and final detailing. "Dusty" is a prime example of this process, as Ford's powerful, low-end groove anchors a full-spectrum array of guitars, bells, and arpeggiations along with Matt Putman's energetic drum section. Its fluid pacing provides a perfect establishing shot, with shifting moods that gather into a coda guided by David Swatzell's harmonized, glittering guitar riffs - a sunrise after a moonless night. In quick succession, "Blue Tangier" widens the aperture with a pounding percussive refrain, vibrant bass tone and an unforgettable, fuzzed-out melodic motif. Sprawling centerpiece, "Junko", is a loose callback to 2003's The Marionette and The Music Box, its deliberate stride and interwoven melodies evoking the hands of a mechanical clock, and the anticipation of something long-awaited but nebulous. It drifts effortlessly from innocence to intrigue, expands into a mesmerizing howl, and vanishes abruptly into mist. While honoring their forebears in winks and nods, Unwed Sailor remain totally inimitable in their approach and style, twenty-five years into an acclaimed career. The band's clear vision for Underwater Over There has yielded some of their most indelible work, and their inventive, passionate approach gives a strong sense of plenty more beyond the horizon.

Lapell's deft lyrics jostle with love song tropes, grappling with love's finitude and the irony of how codependency and longing are revered in popular music. A ghost story is woven through the album: waltzing in the dusty barroom country of "Blue Blaze," buried in the superstitious lyrical streak of "Rattlesnake" and audible in a wheezing organ as it shuts down at the end of "Footsteps."

Still, "Anniversary" emerges as an earnest celebration of commitment. Earworms like "Anniversary Song" and "Someone Like You" showcase intricately layered harmonies, while closer "Stars" affirms that there's no place the speaker would rather be than with the one she loves. Dekker and Lapell assembled a stellar cast of musicians to support Lapell's powerhouse vocals, piano, harmonica and signature fingerstyle guitar.

The core band includes Dan Fortin on bass, Jake Oelrichs on drums, and Tania Gill on the church's piano, harpsichord and organ. Rounding out the ensemble's sensitive orchestral arrangements are Rebecca Hennessy (trumpet), Rachael Cardiello (viola), Michael Davidson (marimba and vibraphone) and Joe Lapinsky (pedal steel), who also engineered and mixed the record. Abigail Lapell has garnered three Canadian Folk Music Awards, hit number one on Canadian folk radio and reached a staggering 40 million + streams across digital services. She has toured widely across Canada and the U.S, and will be touring internationally (UK, EU, AUS and more) in 2024.

A punk classic, gloriously anthemic power pop from the cult UK outfit. On 17 March 1978, a mere six months after the release of their self-titled debut, The Boys second album “Alternative Chartbusters” was released (once again, produced by Dangerfield & Steel). As AllMusic recognises, “Alternative Chartbusters” was way ahead of its time, a buried treasure that only got dusted off much later: “Condemned at the time for offering up little more than a straight carbon copy of its predecessor, the second Boys’ album has since ascended to the pantheon of power pop greats, a combination of the band's own inestimable position at the forefront of what, by early 1978, was already a burgeoning movement, and their seemingly effortless grasp of the rudiments of, indeed, a great pop song.” Along with the Sex Pistols, Clash and the Damned, The Boys were part of the first wave of the mid-1970’s UK punk explosion. Armed with an arsenal of killer Steel/Dangerfield songs The Boys became the first UK punk band to sign an album deal in January 1977 and subsequently released two albums, their self-titled debut and the follow-up “Alternative Chartbusters” in quick succession. Highly regarded by the music press and their contemporaries, yet somehow criminally ignored by a wider punk audience, unable to grasp their heritage of vintage rock ‘n’ roll that went back to Chuck Berry courtesy of The Beatles. Their well-crafted songs, together with Steel and Dangerfield’s layered harmonies, even led to them being described as ‘The Beatles of Punk’

Acclaimed guitar duo Loren Connors and Alan Licht celebrate their 30-year collaboration with release of their eighth album - At The Top Of The Stairs. Across the decades, their improvisations turned increasingly abstract and atonal, while still maintaining complex, ethereal arrangements. The harmonious blend of Licht's meticulously crafted feedback and harmonic patterns with Connors' ghostly blue tones remains the core sound of this partnership. At The Top Of The Stairs was recorded live in 2018. Across two side-long pieces, the duo ascends slowly, through layers of atmospheric tension punctuated by thunderous waves of Connors' effects. For fifty years, Connors's adaptation of acoustic Delta blues has transmuted into miniature gray scale compositions and howling riffs. His collaborators include Oren Ambarchi, Keiji Haino, and Kim Gordon. Rock/experimental musician Alan Licht was a member of the bands Love Child, Run On, and Lee Ranaldo & the Dust, and has released a range of acclaimed rock and experimental albums. He is an author with books published by Rizzoli, W.W. Norton, Faber & Faber and Blank Forms.

Mode_1 Reclaim EP by DIG Records

Cover // Augmented reality by Omer Avarkan


********************************AUGMENTED REALITY COVER ***********************************

After a stellar debut release in 2023, vinyl-only label Dust in Grooves, sees its anticipated second EP Reclaim, showcasing one of Dublin's gleaming underground talents Mode_1. Establishing DIG as a progressive sonic platform, founder Olivia Mendez is also curating a series of dynamic augmented reality covers for each EP. Adding more layers into the sound experience of the Reclaim vinyl is motion designer and visual artist Omer Avarkan.


Mode_1's dedication to uncovering layers of tough but rhythmic grooves, both as a DJ and a producer, has led him to make a mark on legendary techno imprints such as Knotweed, FiedelTwo, Truncate and Naked Lunch. Staying true to his advancing, dynamic sound laid with dexterous technique, Robert Kavanagh delivers a collection of four ominous tracks, pulsating with incandescent pads and pacey drums.


The EP opens with the relentless and driving Sigma, setting the tone for a swiftly moving ride across the record. With playful shifting of gears and jacking rhythms, the A2 flows into the next track Dusty Room, utilising the bleepy pitches in contrast to the expansive spheric tones, offering an energetic boost of a melodic techno work-out, with hints of sharp dub edges.


Reclaim on B1 highlights the versatility of Mode_1, comprising multi-layered scales, evolving spiral sounds and a build-up of reverberating tones that escalate with poise. As a closing track of the record, Platform 8 is one of those B2 sides that you keep reaching out to. This ultimate big-floor tool is loaded with advancing movement, keys with mystical undertones, and depth of texture that play with the infinite nature of the number eight.


Unlocking the animated cover of the EP and seeing it come to life virtually, adds a new dimension to the classic format of the vinyls. To unlock its motion, follow the riddle on the back.


All tracks mastered by Nihad Tule.


Words by Lora Mateeva, Orb Mag

More Than Ten Years Since He First Emerged On Skull Disco, Appleblim Presents His Debut Album. The Label He Co-founded With Shackleton Was The First The World Heard Of His Productions, But Laurie Osborne's Innate Relationship With Electronic Music Culture Reaches Back Much Further Than Those Groundbreaking Early Days Of Dubstep. Early Days Spent Soaking Up Hardcore, Jungle, Techno And Plenty More Besides Were Fundamental Foundations From Which To Spring Into The Then-unknown Realms Of Sub-low Half-step Club Music. At That Time Fwd>> And Dmz Were The Church For This Ritualistic Sound, And Appleblim Was A Regular Fixture At Both.

As Dubstep Matured, Magnified, Mutated And Meandered, So Appleblim Moved Beyond Skull Disco To Explore Different Avenues Of Expression In The New Many- Layered Club Music Landscape. His Own Apple Pips Imprint Was A Natural Vessel On Which To Explore The Emergent Fusions Of Hardcore-derived Sounds And The Us-born House, Techno And Electro, While Labels Such As Aus Music Equally Provided A Home For His Work (often Alongside Komonazmuk). Meanwhile Long-standing Collaborations With Alec Storey (al Tourettes / Second Storey) Finally Manifested In The Hyper-modern Mind-twist Of Also, Captured As An Album On Legendary Rave Label R&s.

More Recently It's Been Possible To Hear Appleblim Delve Into Electro-acoustic And Ambient Production Alongside Bassweight Sounds On Tempa, One Of The Original Bastions Of Dubstep Culture. As The Existing Boundaries Between Genres, Cultures, Eras And Scenes Continue To Dissolve, On His Debut Album Appleblim Offers Up A Fresh Approach That Brings Some Of The Foundational Sound Ethics Of Rave Culture Into A Modern Framework.

Hardcore Breaks Are Still A Regular Sound Source In Contemporary Club Tracks, But On Life In A Laser It's Instantly Apparent That Appleblim Has Moved Beyond Choosing Popular Drum Samples To Truly Tap Into The Elusive Feeling Engendered By The Music Of The Era. It's A Tricky Feat To Manage, But In The Pie-eyed Chords Of ignite', The Subby 808 Tom Basslines On nci' Or The Mr. Fingers Synth Flex On manta Key' The Sonic Finish Sports The Same Understated Grit And Grime That Made Those Early Records So Timeless. There's Still Space For Modernism, Not Least On Snaking 2-step Killer i Think We'll Let The Gas Sort This One Out', But It's Offset By A Layer Of Dust, Not To Mention An Inherent Moodiness That Can't Be Faked.

This Fine Balance Of Rave Romanticism And Future-minded Approaches Binds Together In A Cohesive Conceptual Statement. First And Foremost It's Appleblim's Personal Reflection On The Music That Has Moved Him On Countless Dancefloors Since His First Flirtations With Soundsystem Culture. At The Same Time The Canny Influx Of Modern Ideas Into The Soundworld Of The 90s Genuinely Results In A New Proposition, Making For A Perfect Fit On The Modern-day 'ardcore Fetishists Label Of Choice, Sneaker Social Club. Many May Claim To Draw On Old-skool Influences In Their Modern Trax, But Take One Listen To flows From Within' And You'll Feel The Same Time-slipping Surge Of Future-shock As The Ravers At Lost, Dreamscape, The Dungeons, Clink Street, Blue Note And All Those Other Iconic Spots.

Beach Fossils' self titled debut album is a seminal release from the halcyon days of Brooklyn's underground music scene. Songwriter and composer Dustin Payseur's home recorded masterpiece captures the naïveté of youth, the anxiety of routine, and the joy of infatuation, though a track list full of layered guitars and heartfelt lyrics. Beach Fossils take inspiration from 60's jangle pop, 70's kraut rock, 80's post punk, to create a sound uniquely their own with this first record, causing a ripple effect on the sound of indie music in the years that followed it.

Ploy kicks off the year with the third release on his Deaf Test imprint with his own strain of club rattling 4/4 house music.

The A side - Vortex (stripped mix) - rolls out an infectious three note bassline, rumbling alongside seven minutes of cranky arps and sharp risers with a minute long breakdown providing the only respite amidst the unrelenting groove. Tech house through Ploy’s weirdo lens.

Vocal chops and slapping percussion feature on Vortex (busy mix), deftly layered over the pounding U.S garage drums and explosive hits. A main room roller for the peak hours.

In Your Head races along a galvanic bassline and guttural techno synths, complemented by an earworm vocal hook (a ploy signature). Rude UK tech house business.

Eyez On U is a ‘tough as nails’ progressive drum workout. Functional club gear with bags of groove and industrial strength breaks, slapping you around the dancefloor.

Sending winds down the 5 tracker with sultry r&b vocals floating over hazy synths, glossy strings and a dusty drum groove. A nod to Detroit and the house music that has informed his work for the past decade.

Written, produced and mixed by S. Smith
Additional mixing from Thomas Bulwer on Vortex and In Your Head
Mastered by Beau Thomas

Egil Kalman has levelled up on this one; we were stunned by his last solo opus, and on ‘Forest of Tines’, the bassist/synthesist has traded the EMS Synthi 100 for the Buchla Series 200, recording at Stockholm’s illustrious Elektronmusikstudion (EMS). Here, he builds on themes he explored on his debut with a generous 20 track double album that marks firmer lines between Scandinavian folk music and contemporary electro- acoustic minimalism.

Using woody, synthesised tones that gradually open into sawing wails, Kalman suggests harmonies that lie between the 17th century polska and earlier, pre-Renaissance sounds, mimicking the tonal and textural fluctuations of strings with advanced tuning and sequencing techniques. There are plenty of artists delving into the past to unravel their identity, but Kalman’s approach is refreshingly unadulterated. He recorded the entire set on the fly, using just spring reverb to add extra texture, without overdubs or modern DAW-style layering, the Buchla 200 played almost like an acoustic instrument.

There’s a glimmer of vintage acid on the lithe ‘Dub One’, a complex, rhythmic experiment that lashes its pulses together with willowy portamento slides. And on ‘Klystron’, he absorbs warehouse techno’s architectural oomph, splaying psychedelic, reverberating ascending sequences over jagged kicks; listen carefully, and there’s something else going on in the background too, as Kalman meets his stabs with flute-like echoes. It’s a peculiar cocktail of ideas and provocations: ‘Mbira’ finds the composer shaping his synth into dusty, fluttering hits that resemble the titular Zimbabwean finger harp, and on ‘Drums’, he pipes pre-recorded percussion through the system, triggering its oscillators and helping shape its rhythmic patterns. He’s most comfortable when he’s mines a hazier past, ‘Autumn Leaves’ is a mystickal, just intoned droner that harmonises with Mattias Petersson’s awesome ‘Triangular Progressions’, and ‘Subtines’ sounds as if Kalman has deployed his instrument in a subterranean crevice, resonating his rumbles around synthetic water droplets.

If it’s uncanny court music you’re particularly interested in, there’s plenty of that too. ‘Polska’ is another sublimely hauntological Swedish folk interpolation, while closing track ‘Ocquet’ appears to blur Kalman’s ideas more thoroughly, melting folk phrasing and peaceful, uneasy drones to draw us to a neat conclusion. Soft-hearted but animated, it’s modern electronic music that isn’t afraid of employing vintage techniques to suggest new directions.

Following on from their Fabric presents mix compilation and a busy summer of touring, including 2x sold out All Night Long shows in London - Chaos In The CBD return with 'Outdoor Limit’ to complete the 'Sirena Deep’ EP on their much loved In Dust We Trust imprint.

Sirena Deep
This classy Deep House track has a warm and deep rolling bass line and beautifully layered keys. Washed over with a stunning flute accompaniment from long-term collaborator and legendary jazz musician Nathan Haines which adds the extra magic to this outstanding production.

Outdoor Limit
On the B-side the boys deliver a slightly darker, mischievous and moody roller with ‘Outdoor Limit’ - an 8 minute journey through minimal grooves, in what feels like the perfect soundscape for getting lost in a dark room in the small hours.

Ashara is a deeply personal and generational body of work, showcasing Jason's innate aptitude for storytelling through poetic lyrics and beautiful imagery. The award- winning musician, who is renowned for his stellar vocals and inimitable skill on acoustic guitar and piano, brings together an exceptional lineup of musicians for this album. His band Ashara, after which the album is named, includes legendary Jamaican- Canadian guitarist Carl Harvey (Toots & The Maytals), woodwind specialist Marcus Ali, vocalist Laurel Tubman, drummer Vince Reel and bassist Michael Shapinko. The album also features the musical contributions of Scottish talents including Ross Ainslie and Ali Hutton on whistles, Jack Smedley on fiddle, and John Somerville on accordion.

Ashara was recorded over a ten- month period and captures the essence of the band's chemistry. The initial recordings took place at Toronto's renowned Canterbury Music Company, allowing them to capture the authentic magic of live performances. The contributions of the Scottish musicians were recorded in their own respective locations, adding another layer of diversity to the album's sonic tapestry. The album features predominantly original compositions by Jason, with notable exceptions being a heartfelt rendition of Roy Harper's "When an Old Cricketer Leaves the Crease" and an inspired musical interpretation of Alexander Montgomerie's sixteenth-century poem "The Night is Near Gone".

Big Sigh brings together the best of Marika's previous works as an indie musician and adds a new layer of epic sounds and full-bodied production. Big Sigh is the "hardest record" Marika has ever made. As the title suggests, it is a relief of sorts - of sadness, of stress and lust, but mostly relief. Co-produced with Sam Petts Davies (Frank Ocean, Radiohead, Red Hot Chilli Peppers) & Charlie Andrew (Alt J, Wolf Alice, London Grammar). Lyrically there's always romance a longside grief, with elements of vulnerability and feeling trapped. "This album took a long time I got to the end of it I was quiet. I wanted to be away from it and let it sit in its own space. Now the dust has settled and I've got to re-enter the world of big sigh, and I'm excited." Stepping into a new world, moving forward, chipping away. Breath in, breath out. Big sigh."

Bathed in a green haze, the crowd oozed to the mutant rock and roll roaring from the basement's dusty depths — everything and everyone was sweaty and sticky. But as Speedy Ortiz crammed into the back corner, their grins just inches away from ours, D.C.’s Dougout became a moshed-and-sloshed sauna of 20-somethings delirious on rock euphoria.

After spending much of the new millennium bored out of my skull by network soap indie, Speedy Ortiz — not to mention its pals in Pile, Ovlov, Grass is Green and the rest of New England’s burgeoning basement scene — was rock's wild howl. The songs were unpredictable, yet weirdly memorable, swaggering with a winky and wry sense of self. Riffs would twist with a topsy tenderness, then slam a ruptured discord. Sadie Dupuis' sphinxian-yet-sensitive lyrics were not only matched but accentuated by her coil-sprung vibrato. How could Speedy Ortiz not immediately become my new favorite band?

What began as a short-lived solo project recorded in Dupuis' off-hours as a rock camp counselor became a four-piece band in Northampton, Mass., by the end of 2011: Dupuis on guitar and vocals with drummer Mike Falcone, bassist Darl Ferm and guitarist Matt Robidoux. They made cool mixtapes, cracked inside jokes and gushed about teenagers that opened for them on tour. They freaked out (via LiveJournal) when they met the bassist from Polvo or Helium's Mary Timony, but also rolled their eyes at '90s indie-rock comparisons. The band's first single — the gender-bending got-laid grunge yowler "Taylor Swift'' — elicited that rare response of the simultaneous giggle and headbang. The Sports EP amped up the taut yet rubbery riffery.

Released July 9, 2013, Major Arcana is filled with wedding chapel exorcisms, oiled-down attractants and criminally twisted puny little villains — this is Dupuis' haunted lexicon as she scales the toxic Aggro Crag of a breakup. And while Dupuis wrote these songs, the band's convulsing arrangements and diverse influences sprawled the squigglier edges of feedbacked fuzz to mete out matters of the heart. Falcone — who, it's worth noting, has a knack for vocal harmony — swung as much as he smashed the drums. In easily tipoverable songs, Ferm's burly bass and percussive overdubs gave the unruly glee its momentum. Robidoux ripped skronky guitar solos and countered Dupuis' riffs with decorative splatter. Over a four-day marathon session at Sonelab in Easthampton, recording engineer Justin Pizzoferrato sparked the studio imagination of Speedy Ortiz — not only leaning into gritty tones but layer-caking dense dynamics that made these songs pop and pulverize.

For all her sweet-toothed seething, Dupuis was not easy on herself. Everyone's allowed the idiot growing pains of your 20s and the misery that follows, but I can only imagine the emotional exhaustion that playing these songs on the road, night after night, must have wrought. "But you left something on my lips: a mark so sick," she repeats over the doomy destruction that ends the album. Thinking back to the many Speedy Ortiz shows I caught in those early years, including an unofficial after-after party for my own wedding, "MKVI" often served as the noisy down-and-out closer — heads would bang in solidarity as the crowd became co-authors in the chaos, the biting phrase now a hex, Speedy Ortiz forever our coven. —Lars Gotrich

To celebrate the 10th Anniversary of Major Arcana, Speedy Ortiz release a remastered edition on Carpark Records.

Following on from the warm reception to Hell Yeah and Music Conception reissuing Calm's cult Before album, the labels have come together once more to offer up a reissue of the Japanese master's highly sought-after long player Moonage Electric Ensemble. The hard-to-find original has been given an all-new mixdown from original stem files and then re-mastered by Calm himself, and the double LP will also come with a bonus 12" featuring his very own Daydream Dubs plus an obi-strip and original artwork by FJD.

The blissful yet soul-stirring Moonage Electric Ensemble, which landed first in 1999, was Kiyotaka Fukagawa's stunning sophomore album and the one that kept the bar high following his debut Shadow of the Earth. It investigated all new worlds of future jazz, ambient and downtempo and has since become a cult classic that often fetches three figures on secondhand markets. He has released over 18 albums since including Before which was reissued in 2022, though Moonage Electric Ensemble remains a favourite with those who enjoy the most accomplished and innovative sounds from the first wave of chillout.

This escapist charmer opens with the suspensory synths and piano keys of 'Unseen Small Steps' featuring spoken words from Dan Gamble, then 'Light Year' has gently tumbling rhythms and shimming synth moving about the soothing mix. 'Noon At The Moon' brings gorgeously fizzing future jazz drums and mellifluous piano playing full of subtle joy, and 'The Other Side Of The Moon' then layers up melancholic chords and chunkier rhythms that are detailed with gorgeous persuasive details and mystic flutes. 'Tsukiyo' is a new age charmer with paddy hand drums and romantic interplay between sax and trumpet, 'Between Worlds' is an ambient interlude with distant winds blowing and intimate whispers from Gamble before closer 'Authentic Love Song' rides on dusty trip hop breaks as lazy piano chords melt the heart and Gamble serves up another aloof monologue.

This is another welcome reissue of a sublime album that is not only one of Calm's finest but also a true gem in the wider world of downtempo music.

Sven Torstenson's notorious Drugs is a loopdigga's fever dream, bursting with breaks for days and featuring possibly the most iconic cover of all library music's cult classics. First released in 1980, it's now a hyper-rare and seriously sought-after electronic album full of experimental soundscapes and samples just waiting to be flipped. It's both terrifying and terrifyingly good. So much so, it's been brilliantly sampled by Kendrick Lamar and Chance The Rapper.

The sleeve describes Drugs as containing "the newest dimensions of electronic sounds. Dramatic underscores for all problems of today's life and society, at the border between reality and delusion." That's pretty spot-on. The fast moving "Euphoria" is an incredible, unignorable opener. It's loaded with disorientating effects and really needs to be heard to be believed. It's followed by the gorgeous "Soft Hallucinations", containing quiet, meditative and beautiful sounds - as the title suggests. One listen and you'll want to live in the warm embrace of this beatless, harmonic gem. Sinister squelchy synth stabs don't distract from the sheer beauty of the track's main (gentle) thrust. They only serve to elevate its trippy magic.

Next up, "Sky Move"'s agitated and repetitive rhythm makes it an intense listen but with a broad melody that will appeal to many. "Destroyed Dreams" utilises a muffled church organ and it sounds heavenly to begin with but it gradually invites increasingly distorted elements. Yes, you've had trips like this, we're pretty certain. Mental! Talking of bad trips, never have they sounded so good as "Horror Trip"; this fractured drama-synth just needs some some dusty beats to hold it up - get involved.

"Floating Illusions" almost sounds like a beatless Spiritualized bomb from the early-mid 90s; melodic, synthy, church organ-drenched. The mournful, dramatic "Lost Chance" pulses along on a bed of acidy synths whilst "The Morning After" is the sonic equivalent of the extreme fear and doom experienced in the aftermath of the previous night's carnage. Whilst somewhat uncomfortable listening, again, it's pretty compelling thanks to the myriad effects being expertly utilised. Fascinating. The sprawling, fragmented "Random Thoughts" is described as containing "confused melody phrases" - yeah, pretty much sums this one up.

The B-Side is ushered in by "Heroin" and it's as sketchy as you might think, all mysterious minor chords with a dominating - but not overbearing - bass refrain. Next up, the dream-like synthy fanfare of "Night Trip" climaxes after a few minutes of dramatic, ecclesiastical sounds whilst "Day Trip" layers its melody over a repetitive rhythmic base.

Next up, one of the *REAL* highlights makes itself known. Absolutely not to be missed, "Dealer's Corner" is all shifting tenors from quiet to hectic and back around again. The hectic parts are like a totally synthed-out-the-eyeballs jazz-funk collective wigging out with the latest electronic toys from 1980. This one totally SMOKES.

The dramatic "Sad And Hopeless" is appositely replete with dissonant, minor church-organ chords whilst "Riding Pegasus" uses a creepy ostinato bass melody to create irrational bleepy menace that's ripe for sampling. The penultimate track, "Hopeless Chaos" is another disorientating trip, a bleepy confection of sounds and phrases whilst closer "Goin' Mad" is all electronic percussion with an unpleasant rhthymic feel and irritating melody. Music to annoy your partner with!

Established in Munich in 1965 by Gerard and Rotheide Narholz, Sonoton introduced library music to Germany. Initially intended to cater to the country's new TV market, the library also provided an avenue for Gerhard Narholz's astonishing musical prolificacy, and soon became a haven for a wide range of European composers and musicians. In 1969, Sonoton struck a deal with the British label Berry Music for international publishing rights, exposing its catalog to a worldwide audience; when Berry was bought out by EMI in 1973, Sonoton transitioned into a full-fledged international label, with successes in the library and commercial fields and many innovations to its credit. Now a worldwide operation with hundreds of producers and composers under its employ, Sonoton nonetheless remains an independently run business still helmed by its founders - a remarkable achievement in an era when nearly every other major library has been absorbed by a multinational conglomerate.

The audio for Drugs has been remastered by Be With regular Simon Francis, ensuring this release sounds better than ever. Cicely Balston's expert skills have made sure nothing is lost in the cut whilst the original, iconic sleeve has been restored here at Be With HQ as the finishing touch to this long overdue re-issue.

My Brutal Life delves into the profound aspects of our artistic endeavours encompassing brutalism, the environment, and humanity. Throughout our ongoing creative journey, we consistently gravitate towards these themes, documenting and exploring the human experience within these environments. Our unwavering fixation on Symmetry, Synchronisation, and Repetition are the driving force in our artistic expression. Moreover, we strive to peel away superficial layers to expose the underlying emotional strata of the human aspect, unearthing the often overlooked beauty within the ordinary. Although frequently disregarded, the human aspect resonates with echoes from the past, enlightening and guiding our artistic process. Even the failures encountered serve as poignant reminders of the delicate structures we construct. My Brutal Life constitutes a pivotal component within an enduring exhibition, meticulously crafted to delve into the aesthetic and human facets of brutalism.

Raz started working on the album Tyrants in 2017 and
mixed the finished version in 2021. The writing process
began with listening to sketches and sound-files he
had collected throughout the past years, which he had
not yet given up on. The album is thus a natural
continuation of his previous works and showcases
Raz’s unique sound design coherently. His increased
focus into composition and arrangement is highlighted
even further in this release.


In the oblivious environment surrounding his hideaway
lake cabin he produced an album that is rich and
diverse in its sonic palette, ranging from harshly
distorted synth-peaks, cinematic soundscapes, all the
way to avant-garde contemporary classical, and jazz
music. It is an album that invites the listener to explore
and discover not just the intimate self: it is also a very
personal, intuitive observation and reflection on the
world that we are living in today.


Certain instruments are very prominent. An old piano
that was left in Raz’ apartment by a friend that he
found joy in playing.

One can hear a certain curiosity in
the performance of this newly found, dust layered
treasure (Bardot). Sonically the album is an attempt to
blend acoustic sound recordings with synthesized
sounds, and to blend musical genres into one. It is an
acoustic expression of the transformative times we are
living in, a realm of mankind being mastered by
technology.

The gap of this transformational process is
a glitchy moment of time. It is portrayed on the front
cover image of the album, by glitch artist Azamat
Akhmadbaev.

ORKA is a duo comprising Francine Perry from London and Jens L. Thomsen from the Faroe Islands. They crossed paths in the vibrant club scene of London, an immersive world that had a profound impact on their creative journey. ORKA's music draws inspiration from the Hardcore Continuum and UK sound system culture, blending it with elements of minimal techno, progressive electro, and ambient music, resulting in a diverse range of stylistic influences. Now ORKA emerges with their long-awaited new album. Once again, they greet us with their distinct blend of earthy tones and a bold, adventurous spirit, taking us to a realm bursting with neon-lit hues, pulsating club beats, and an abundance of sensory stimulation. Aptly named "All At Once," the album title provides a clue to the auditory and sensory experience that awaits the listener in this immersive record. ORKA has continuously evolved as a project over many years and iterations, embracing fluidity and a relentless quest for fresh sonic amalgamations. Their journey has been marked by a gradual refinement, stripping away layers to reach the core essentials. This transformative process has unfolded over the years, reaching from their site-specific, cowshed sampling and band-based expedition in "Livandi oyða" (2007) to the bold, innovative exploration of minimalist techno in "Vað" (2016). However, their latest release, "All At Once," signifies yet another remarkable leap forward in their artistic evolution. The seeds of this artistic progression were already planted in previous releases like the <13 EP (2017) and the hard-hitting techno single "Juno" (2018). However, it is with the arrival of the album "All At Once" that ORKA's vision fully blossoms, unveiling a vivid and expansive sonic landscape. This latest offering presents a glorious and vibrant tapestry, showcasing a maximalist approach to techno that pulsates with energy coupled with their signature meticulous attention to sound design, reflecting a deep awareness and intentionality in their creative process. If this album was to be thought of as a place, it would be a shimmering, futuristic, buzzing kind of city with vibrating night-time drizzle from above and endless glowing lights in the distance. Several of the tracks are built around cut-up vocal samples that are divided from their semiotic meanings and reconfigured as loops, and thus mined for their timbral and percussive qualities. Recurring collaborators South London duo LV (Hyperdub, Keysound, Brownswood) are featured on a handful of these tracks, mixing in their complex cocktail of grime and bliss. The result is a sort of queer erotic dance-floor mysticism, and the closest to a full-blown dance record that ORKA have ever made. There must be a club in that shimmering futurist city of the night.. and it is a collective, inclusive and alluring place. There is no need to fear any dancefloor exhaustion by listening to this album though, as there are also moments of floating cyber beauty and pure enveloping warmth to be found among its tracks. As always, following the artistic journey of ORKA is a joyous experience, filled with unexpected twists and turns that keep us captivated.

FAR aka Simon and Robin Lee's Faze Action Records serve up a special 7" featuring Faze Action's 'Fantasy' which sounds very much like a tune you might unearth in some dusty old crate that hasn't been heard since the 70s and 80s. It has lush synths reaching up to the stars and gentle disco beats that sweep you off your feet. The bustling arrangement bubbles with subtle energy and gorgeous vocals are layered in for extra escapist magic. On the flip is an instrumental that is pared back and more direct, but both tunes really do take you into a fantasy world.

Exit North are: Japan co-founder, solo artist Steve Jansen, Swedish singer songwriter Thomas Feiner, pianist Ulf Jansson, and renowned Swedish producer/multi-instrumentalist Charlie Storm. Their 2nd studio album 'Anyway, Still' continues the quartet's appetite for exploring provocative song structures. Weaving classic elements such as piano and strings into the layered threads of the bands material. Where intimacy and atmospherics give way to powerful dynamics, animated rhythms and grooves, driving distortions and crescendos in cinematic scale. Like excavators with uncompromising autonomy, Exit North relish the exploration of every nuance and detail of the recorded performance. Artwork contains full lyrics. " Exit North is truly about generating an aural gravity that pulls the best out of its participants. Those who admire Jansen's instrumental, experimental solo output, as well as his song-based work with Japan and Rain Tree Crow, will find much to enjoy on Book of Romance and Dust. Similarly, the audience Feiner has cultivated with his group Anywhen and its acclaimed recording The Opiates, will encounter a related, spacious aesthetic. LP limited to 500 copies on 180gm black vinyl with a gatefold sleeve (release date is later in July).

While Duster went into hibernation in the year 2000, Clay Parton's four-track never stopped rolling. Recorded alone at home over several years, Birds In The Ground is an album of 30-something, post-9/11 malaise. Under his Eiafuawn (Everything Is All Fucked Up And What Not) acronym, Parton hides beneath layers of fuzzy and clean guitars, his hesitant, cottony vocal disappear into noise. This deluxe pressing is packaged in a gorgeous tip on sleeve and includes the complete lyrics for this cryptic entry of the Dusterverse.

Bunny White Vinyl! While Duster went into hibernation in the year 2000, Clay Parton's four-track never stopped rolling. Recorded alone at home over several years, Birds In The Ground is an album of 30-something, post-9/11 malaise. Under his Eiafuawn (Everything Is All Fucked Up And What Not) acronym, Parton hides beneath layers of fuzzy and clean guitars, his hesitant, cottony vocal disappear into noise. This deluxe pressing is packaged in a gorgeous tip on sleeve and includes the complete lyrics for this cryptic entry of the Dusterverse.

UK artist Jayson Wynters debuts on Pulp with four tracks of atmospheric house and funk that come complete with remixes by Jarren and Mogwaa.

Kung fu master Wynters hails from Birmingham and has been a key player on his local scene for years. More recently he has broken out with impressive EPs on mighty Dutch label Delsin and Adam Shelton's EON. He has a real love of hazy house and always brings his own unique take on that to his timeless analogue grooves. This latest EP was written during lockdown, which provided Jayson a chance to explore different sounds and delve into different styles.

Opener 'Solitude' proves that with its misty-eyed melodies and dreamy pads. The drums tumble loosely, the percussion has a frayed edge and the whole thing is coated in warmth and soul. Half Moon's Jarren is based in LA and brings plenty of that city's musical charm to his remix. It has far-sighted chords, soft-focus harmonics and well swung claps and drums that are simply irresistible.

Wynters then offers 'Corns Funk,' which pairs another dusty drum line with pinging kicks and woodpecker-like percussive hits. A superb twanging bass riff brings some real funk and retro-future feels as the groove builds and bright synths shine through the haze to enrich your soul.

'Night Drive' is a lush downbeat tune for sunset cruises. It has heart-melting chords that prompt deep inward reflection and features an aching guitar riff full of melancholy. The remixer for the one is Seoul musician and master beatmaker Mogwaa who layers in squelchy synth bass and dreamy, loved-up pads. Last of all, 'Uncle's Jam' is Dam Funk-style electro bliss doused in lo-fi chords and languid late-night funk and packed with romance.

Jayson Wynters shows off another superb side to his sound with his expansive Solitude EP.

Following on from Melodic Motion, Martin Matiske returns to Bordello A Parigi with a track that first appeared over a decade ago. Released on his first album on Stilleben, “Dimension Phantasy” has been dusted down and given a new lease of life.

This extended version bubbles with the same energy as the original. Steady kicks give way to scaling chords as a racing piece of future gazing brilliance takes hold.

Melodies are addictive, yet cold, with a common ground between disco and electro being forged. Sharing the 12” real estate are two good friends, each offering their own remix. Captain Mustache is a musician who can turn his hand to any style.

Here the French producer remains true to the Matiske’s version, adding layers of warmth while maintaining the Springtime coolness of beats and harmonies. The flip is given over to Play Paul, a trailblazing figure in electronics. BPMs are reduced as sweetened lines take flight in the “Oh Lord! Remix”. Arpeggiators rumble before bold keys and heartfelt vocals enter in this emotive reinterpretation. The finale strips back lyrics to focus on those succulent synthesizer sounds. A celebration of past, present and future on one very special release.

Jimmy LaValle’s The Album Leaf has spun from solo outlet to full band and back in its nearly 25 years. His acclaimed catalog spans releases for labels such as Sub Pop, City Slang, Relapse, and others. He also composes music for film and television, scoring over 20 projects (narrative features, documentaries, and TV series) since 2009. The cinematic sensibilities of The Album Leaf were present from the beginning. His 1999 debut introduced the start of a signature sound: melodic and meditative electro-organic soundscapes constructed with guitar, percussion, Rhodes, and field recordings.

His seventh full-length LP, and first since 2016, arrives in 2023 via Vancouver’s Nettwerk Records. FUTURE FALLING finds LaValle working with an array of musicians, shaping slightly darker, more spacious, and synth-driven songs with contributions from Bat For Lashes, Kimbra, and many others.
The music registers a shade darker and more synth-driven than most moments in his acclaimed catalog, a bridge between shadowy, cerebral terrain and dreamy precision pop, where softly percussive frameworks meet shimmering sound design and emotive instrumentation.
LaValle sees the construction of FUTURE FALLING as less conventional than past work. Contributions were done remotely with a “throw everything at it” mindset, making LaValle the arranger of layers from all over: drums, synths, horns, violins, voice, and more. LaValle created a pastiche of these layers and elements; in some cases even moving vocal takes to new tracks entirely. Without the in-the-room dynamics, he had more time to experiment, adding and subtracting ad infinitum.
The album opens on “PROLOGUE,” an evocative, slow-building instrumental that rides a pattern into a symphonic sea of static. Keys and horns glide atop the rhythmic pulse of “DUST COLLECTS,” setting the contemplative scene for “AFTERGLOW,” the record’s most pop-minded performance. Here Kimbra, the Grammy-winning New Zealand singer-songwriter, renders a striking recollection of past love as percussive elements shimmer and swirl.
A plaintive piano line moves throughout “Cycles 19.9” encircled by light ambient washes, both a valley between two peaks and a powerful composition in its own right. “Future Falling” follows; with origins tracing back to 2015, the track embodies the full sonic journey LaValle has taken. All the hallmarks of The Album Leaf — melodic builds, vivid sprawl, tonal shape-shifting — assemble to a blissful finish.

For the next stretch, “Cycles” begins with a uneasy Rhodes loop that builds and erupts into a wall of texture paving its way into “Give In,” where LaValle models a movement that begins subtle and measured before curving up with skyward, percussive bursts (“Stride”) and settling back down to the album’s back-half centerpiece, “Near” featuring the acclaimed English artist Natasha Khan aka Bat For Lashes. “Do you feel me near?” she sings into a mist of widescreen synths and soothing, distant drum beats as if searching through the dark.

Foyer Red’s debut LP, Yarn the Hours Away, plays out as a collection of short stories, each with its environment and protagonist(s) meticulously crafted by the band, with lead singer, vocalist, and clarinetist Elana Riordan at the helm. Foyer Red’s debut EP, Zigzag Wombat, showcased their playfully chaotic arrangements, which bridge art-punk, math rock, and sweetly sung indie with a dash of the zoomies.

The band synthesizes their homespun take on magical realist indie rock that was centered on their EP with their varied musical influences; taking cues from the otherworldly melodies of Cate Le Bon, Yucky Duster’s jangle-filled crayon rock, and the organized chaos of Deerhoof’s iconic polyrhythms. The songs that makeup Yarn the Hours Away are fantastical, surrealist stories that hinge on contemporary, post-digital life.

The lead single “Etc” captures this dynamic perfectly. Anchored by Eric Jaso’s hypnotizing bass line, the song unfolds with off-kilter call-and-response vocals between Riordan and Kristina Moore, their stilted deliveries bouncing around the mix. The track is searching but discontent with the algorithmic and claustrophobic realities of daily life: singer/guitarist Mitch Myers throws the song for a loop singing, “gathering information / will set you free once you’ve reached / 37 percent / of the database.” While there’s paranoia and cynicism undergirding the lyrics, the song itself is a thrilling and playful listen.

The songs on Yarn the Hours Away are uniformly exciting and compelling; each track feels distinct and sometimes even in direct conflict. The peppy opener “Plumbers Unite!” belies its themes of gamification of our daily lives and delves into the science fiction and fantasy songwriting of Foyer Red’s debut EP. Centered around a relentless rhythm section, their dueling vocals never abate; Moore and Riordan’s honey-sweet but getting more frantic as the song progresses, while Myers’ erratic talk-singing culminates in one final frustrated scream. Juxtapose this with “Gorgeous,” a lovely song about Riordan and drummer Marco Ocampo’s relationship that sees the band slowing their pace into a blissful sway. Riordan coos and sighs over the track while recalling “Marco-isms”; botched colloquialisms that Ocampo uses.

“Gorgeous” shares little in common with “Pocket,” a loose lamentation on late capitalism that touches on time travel and human evolution. Moore and Riordan’s exclamations are chopped up and used as rhythm instruments, layered over the intricately frenetic guitars of Myers and Moore. Foyer Red thrives on these extremes and contradictions. Where their first release was self-recorded, this LP found them in Figure8 Studios with a deadline. “It was really liberating,” says Jaso. “We're all just kind of throwing in our own voices and challenging each other to make the songs better.”

Yarn the Hours Away comes from a lyric on the closer “Toy Wagon.” The song that first marked the time Moore and the rest of the band worked together, a promising spark of a thrilling collaboration to come. “It harkens back to all of us coming together and spending the hours together in music,” says Moore. “There are few moments where you get to relax and exhale,” adds Riordan. “It's what happened when the five of us got together and started writing. We just wrote all of these out there songs and we didn't see a reason to dial that back. Its natural form is in its chaos and layered craziness.”

Kundan Lal is a highly understated artist. Little is known about his background, though some refer to him as Kunsaf Halil, his personal life remains largely a mystery.

Gathering a cult following amongst people like Den Sorte Skole or DJ Marcelle with his previous releases, he is now set to sail new shores. There is a sense of wanderlust as he opens his box of field recordings, collected on his many travels. From the buzzing streets of Alexandria, early sunday markets in Tafraoute or a crackling bonfire down by the banks of the river Ganges. Each track takes you places.

Kundan's second album is a captivating blend of dubby beats, collages, and exotic instrumentation. Drawing from classic tools like the Roland 808, SC7 and the famous Space Echo, Kundan has created a unique and minimalistic sound that is sure to captivate listeners. At once nostalgic and experimental, "Power of Ra" is a must-listen for both electronic music purists and fans of adventurous soundscapes.

Compelled to work from home on his computer during lockdown, Kundan dusted his pawnshop e-piano, downloaded some orchestral soundkits and started to digitize almost forgotten field recordings. The "Power of Ra“ came to him.

“Illgrimage” is a good example of his approach. Combining atmospheric soundscapes with swirling strings, trombones and pianos. Echoes of birds and children playing in the streets. A small town filled with life and a theremin leading the way while you hear the faint yet powerful words of Greta Thunberg saying: "Imagine...“

“Raqaqa,” a powerful orchestral journey with a hip-hop edge. Tinkling chimes add a groovy vibe, while lush layers of wind instruments weave a masterful soundscape. It’s the slow-burning intensity of this track that pulls you in.

"Nasi Chip" is a signature song that exemplifies Kundan Lal’s musical prowess. An engaging beat coupled with chopped up vocals, 8-bit synth melodies and an arpeggiated piano provide an energetic atmosphere that is both cunning and unique.

”Cen" lures you into the egyptian realm. A Harmonium slithers serpent like around a pounding beat.Horns gently swaying to the rhythm of the desert.

It is hard to put your finger on his style or genre. You can feel Kundan Lal‘s DIY spirit in his production, carving his own ethnic genre. For enthusiasts of Roberto Musci or Muslimgauze, this avant-garde album is one for your collection. Keep your senses open and let the Power of Ra pass you to another world.

A co-op coalition of Laced Records, Fatshark, and Games Workshop has summoned forth a deluxe triple vinyl for Jesper Kyd’s incredible new Warhammer 40,000: Darktide score.

48 tracks have been specially mastered for vinyl and will be pressed onto heavyweight galaxy-effect discs in yellow & black, blue & black, and red & black. The widespined outer sleeve features a spot gloss logo on the front cover; while the three spined inner sleeves sport artwork by the Fatshark team.

Darktide succeeds Fatshark’s much beloved Vermintide series with brutal co-op action set in the dystopian future of Warhammer 40,000. Composer Jesper Kyd’s many challenges included capturing the pomp and propaganda of the Imperium’s Inquisition; finding a way to represent ‘living machines’ the size of city blocks and thousands of years old in the lore of the game, but still tens of thousands of years more advanced than our own; and finding the sound of the dangerous lower levels of the Underhive.

He spectacularly achieves this with characterful choral and folk instrumental performances layered among all manner of vintage analog synths, giving the whole soundtrack a rusty, mechanical but not robotic feel — all dusty data and grinding grooves. It’s a unique score that sheds the orchestral and electric guitar palettes of other Warhammer titles.

Altered Circuits dives deeper in the world of playful and versatile club music with roots in the early 90's! There's an obvious parallel between Ildec's DJ performances and his own music.

Part of a scene with a focus on extended, broad-minded sets, the Ibiza-based artist lets his yearning to unearth and play obscure gems flood into his production process. The "Ahora Si EP" is testament to this adventurous spirit as it tackles a wide array of tempos, styles and moods.

Opener "El Principio" and closer "Grt Plschr" display Ildec's fondness of hazy, recondite atmospherics. With its sustained ambient chord, delay-washed newsreader samples and manipulated themes, the former sounds like a fever dream radio bulletin.

On the latter, a broody motif meanders alongside loosely played drums, while a buried bass guitar occasionally reveals itself. "El Break Del Dia" furtherly explores some of these elements, but this time with the dance floor front of mind.

Languidly morphing bass sequences and staccato synth salvos build up anticipation. When a slowly emerging, ceaselessly arpeggiating organ lead finally materialises, the track explodes. Natural flow is partly traded for sturdier form on the remainder of the EP. "El Break De La Noche" lets an ever-modulating lead groove alongside rigid, dry drum beats.

Descending tom fills, truncated squeaks and a top layer LFO gone haywire complete this sparse yet exciting cut. "La Nueva Version" has a similarly efficient bassline as its bedrock. An interplay of zaps, risers, transposed percussion, and other dusty cartridge samples pulls it left and right while subtle disorienting hints of speech thicken the mix.

On "Modificacion", Ildec moulds his take on progressive and tech house into its toughest shape. A druggy, bleepy lead twirls in and out of the track, carried by the road-tested combo of a taut drum pattern and a piercing backbeat bass. Ominous chords and equally menacing vocals mark its aim: to create tension in the club. It is a standout on a diverse, daring EP we are delighted to present as the fifth release on our label.

As NuNorthern Soul eases into its second decade, the label welcomes back a familiar face: Benjamin J Smith, a multi-instrumentalist, songwriter, and pro-ducer whose emotive, colourful and atmospheric compositions are the very definition of ‘Balearic’.

Famously, it was Smith’s The Movedrill Projects album that kicked off the NuNorthern Soul story way back in 2012, and he’s periodically returned to the imprint on numerous occasions since. It’s fitting, then, that Smith is stepping up once more, with NuNorthern Soul found-er Phil Cooper selecting to showcase two overlooked gems from his bulging back catalogue.

Both tracks are taken from Smith’s digital-only album Mojave (Vintage Californian Dreams), a set of thor-oughly gorgeous, West Coast-inspired library music compositions smothered in sumptuous strings and in-formed by the artist’s love of jazz-funk, languid jazz-rock and the kind of luscious, sunset-ready soundscapes that defy neat categorization.

Opening proceedings, and sitting on side A of the vinyl release, is the breath-taking ‘Marina Del Rey’, where layered, reverb-laden harmonic vocalisations, twin-kling electric piano improvisations, lazy guitar licks, spacey synth flourishes and sultry strings slowly rise above a toasty bassline and gentle, Latin-tinged beats. Smith cannily adds layers of sound throughout while moving the musical story forwards, leading to a mem-orable, awe-inspiring conclusion.

In contrast, ‘Big Sur’ sees Smith take an imaginary road trip through the driest, dustiest parts of the Cali-fornian countryside. Psychedelic rock style organ mo-tifs, sustained Hammond B-3 chords and glistening West Coast rock guitar solos dance atop a rubbery bassline and intoxicated, loose-limbed drums, with Smith’s eyes-closed vocalisations – drenched in reverb and delay – adding extra layers of aural loveliness. Like ‘Marina Del Rey’, ‘Big Sur’ is a vivid, widescreen con-coction tailor-made for soundtracking films that have yet to be made.

D3 Elements is an always cultured deep house label and so it is no surprise to find the great US producer Alton Miller has been recruited for a new EP. He has a richly musical sound and roots that go back decades, and it shows: 'Clone' is the sort of stylish backroom house that layers diffuse chords with dusty drums and cannot fail to warm the heart. 'All Of It' explores more broken and Afro-tinged drum patterns with golden Rhodes chords and astral leads. This top trio is completed with the funky kick patterns and perfect soulful vocals of 'Waitin 4 You'. Detroit mainstay Kevin Reynolds remixes it into a hypnotic Motor City roller.

The classy sounds of Detroit label MotorCity Wine will get any house head hot under the collar. For their latest serving, they turn to DCTL about which we know next to nothing but are already big fans off the back of this one. The smoky deep beats of 'Deep Tannin' (feat Rafael Leafar) kick off with a classic vocal sample drifting up top to add the soul. 'Refugee' is a slow and purposeful beatdown cut with lovely dusty drums and sustained chords while 'Little Dancer' layers up jazzy off-grid chords with disheveled beats to loose-limbed effect. '2 Bottles' is a loungey trip-hop closer with vibes to spare.

For the 7th installment of their split-series, Dalmata Daniel welcomes both Roberto Auser for his sophomore contribution to the label, as well as a fresh addition to the catalogue: Cestrian, aka. Ali Renault, the tireless Margate-based DJ and producer, well known for his frantic, dazzling and rough releases at labels like Bunker, Cyber Dance Records or Mechatronica.

Massive, thumping kickdrums and hypnotic whispers introduce the first tunes of side A, that is 'Awakening' - Auser's take on slow, EBM-esque industrial vibrations as an eerie, industrial waltz. 'Selvage' drives effortlessly to disco- and retrofuturistic territories, arriving at the closing track of Auser's side, 'Long Night' This third cut is his longest one, steadily building up harmonic layers of dark, intertwining melodies with the devoted beats of a minimalistic drum machine, full of echoes and shimmering high-ends.

Side B starts with the energetic, rolling bassline of 'Satan'. Ideal title for such a fiery, blazing electro hit: if you ever find yourself in any sort of Inferno-situation trying to Shazam that heated banger you hear, it is likely that it's one of Cestrian's intense tracks from this 12". 'Zoltan' delivers a gentle rumbling of a dusty bass-synth. An atmospheric, chill sequence dominates the split's penultimate track, with dreamy chords and smooth twists on a chaotic noise-source. Finishing off the split, Cestrian hits us with 'Lids' - an excited and raw vision of electro, full of hazy sparks and detuned, tense oscillations. The bass cuts into our minds like blades from a giallo-opus, leaving behind nothing but the unsolved mystery of ineffable horrors.

Thermal Shadow is a first-ever long player from Intertoto, and it is one that has very much not been rushed. This record comes after the artist has spent more than 10 years lost in sonic experiments and now they are all distilled into the eight tunes presented here on a limited edition cassette on the artist's own label. It's a mix of sounds that embrace mistakes, that keep the perfections in and layers up dust, texture, absorbing ambient and barely-there hints of rhythm. They are full of suggestive energy akin to that you might feel when queuing up outside the club and the highs and bass are bleeding out. It's an enticing collection for sure.

Sacramento, CA duo Blank Gloss’s third album, Cornered, is an exquisite statement of pop ambient starkness, an album that oscillates between lush beauty and spare melancholy. It follows from their 2021 debut for Kompakt, Melt, an album that saw Morgan Fox (piano, synths) and Patrick Hills (guitar) aligned, loosely, with the cosmic pastorale of the ‘ambient Americana’ movement. Cornered feels like a significant step forward, though – by peeling back the layers of their music, they’ve revealed both its restful core and its solemn gravitas. It is unendingly lovely, but with something disquieting at its centre.

Cornered was recorded quickly, over two days in December 2020. There’s nothing rushed or haphazard about the album, though; everything has its place, with each sonic element contributing profoundly to these nine miniature dioramas. It signals change, quietly but perceptibly, through the way the duo sculpts their material, building out of loose improvisations that morphed into songs. While there was no plan in mind when Blank Gloss settled into the studio, Fox recalls that “right away we realised that things were sounding and feeling a bit different than any of the sessions we had previously.”

That difference can be heard in the increased amount of space Blank Gloss gift to their sound sources. Some of the most moving moments on Cornered come when Fox and Hills strip everything back – see, for example, “Crossing”, which sets pensive piano across a shyly humming drone and quiet arcs of guitar, recalling the driftworks of Roger Eno. Curiously, the album’s distinctive shape and mood develops, at least in part, from a change in instrumentation, with Hills using a MIDI pick-up on his guitar. “This resulted in making things happen a lot quicker,” Fox says. “It also helped create what I think is a bit more sombre, dark feeling to some of the songs.”

Elsewhere, on songs like “Salt”, the piano tussles with flecks of guitar, single tones sent out to mingle with the stars, like Morricone at 16 RPM, while Cornered’s centrepiece, the eleven-minute “No Appetite”, lets long arcs of electronic texture breathe and sigh, tangling together in a cat’s cradle of bliss. Throughout, it feels as though the music is blossoming as you hear it, like watching time-lapse footage of flora in bloom. But perhaps the most seductive thing about Cornered is the sense you get, listening, that the music was something unexpected, a visitation. “It almost felt like we weren’t dictating where the music went and how it sounded,” Fox agrees. “We were just there in a room together in December and these sounds were happening, and we were lucky enough to be recording the process.”

Cornered, das dritte Album des kalifornischen Duos Blank Gloss aus Sacramento, ist ein exquisites Statement von pop ambienter Krassheit, ein Album, das zwischen üppiger Schönheit und sparsamer Melancholie oszilliert. Es folgt ihrem 2021er Debüt für Kompakt, Melt, einem Album, auf dem sich Morgan Fox (Klavier, Synthesizer) und Patrick Hills (Gitarre) locker an der kosmischen Pastorale der „Ambient Americana“-Bewegung ausrichteten. Cornered fühlt sich jedoch wie ein bedeutender Schritt nach vorne an – indem sie die Schichten ihrer Musik abschälen, haben sie sowohl ihren ruhigen Kern als auch ihre feierliche Schwere offenbart. Es ist unendlich schön, aber mit etwas Beunruhigendem in seiner Mitte.

Cornered wurde relativ schnell aufgenommen, über zwei Tage im Dezember 2020. Es klingt jedoch nichts überstürzt oder willkürlich an diesem Album; alles hat seinen Platz, wobei jedes Klangelement einen wesentlichen Beitrag zu diesen neun Miniaturdioramen leistet. Es signalisiert Veränderung, leise, aber wahrnehmbar, durch die Art und Weise, wie das Duo sein Material formt und aus losen Improvisationen aufbaut, die sich in Songs verwandeln. Als Blank Gloss sich im Studio niederließen, gab es zwar keinen Plan, aber Fox erinnert sich: „Uns war sofort klar, dass sich die Dinge etwas anders anhörten und anfühlten als bei allen vorherigen Sessions.“

Dieser Unterschied ist in der größeren Menge an Raum zu hören, die Blank Gloss ihren Klangquellen bietet. Einige der bewegendsten Momente auf Cornered kommen, wenn Fox und Hills alles zurücknehmen – siehe zum Beispiel „Crossing“, wo ein nachdenkliches Klavier über einen schüchtern summenden Drone und leise Gitarrenloops setzt und an die Driftworks von Roger Eno erinnert. Seltsamerweise entwickelt sich die unverwechselbare Form und Stimmung des Albums zumindest teilweise aus einer Änderung der Instrumentierung, bei der Hills einen MIDI-Tonabnehmer an seiner Gitarre verwendet. „Dies führte dazu, dass die Dinge viel schneller abliefen“, sagt Fox. „Es hat auch dazu beigetragen, einigen der Songs ein etwas düstereres, dunkleres Gefühl zu verleihen.“ An anderer Stelle, bei Songs wie „Salt“, spielt das Klavier mit Gitarrenfetzen, einzelne Töne werden ausgesandt, um sich mit den Sternen zu vermischen, wie Morricone bei 16 U/min, während Cornereds Herzstück, das elfminütige „No Appetite“, lange Bögen schlägt, elektronische Texturen atmet und seufzt, um sich in einem Katzenkörbchen der Glückseligkeit zu verheddern. Während des Hörens fühlt es sich an, als ob die Musik blüht, als würde man sich Zeitrafferaufnahmen von blühenden Pflanzen ansehen. Aber das Verführerischste an Cornered ist vielleicht das Gefühl, das man beim Zuhören bekommt, dass die Musik etwas Unerwartetes war, eine Heimsuchung. „Es fühlte sich fast so an, als hätten WIR nicht diktiert, wohin die Musik geht und wie sie klingt“, stimmt Fox zu. „Wir waren just im Dezember zusammen in einem Raum, als diese Geräusche passierten, und wir hatten das Glück, dass die Aufnahme mitlief.”

Pink Vinyl
Canadian producer Dylan Khotin-Foote has kept his Khotin alias going for the better part of a decade; the impressionistic electronic project shifts with the movements in his life. Sometimes it leads, like when the club-friendly grooves of 2014's Hello World immersed him in the heart of Vancouver's underground dance scene, and sometimes it follows, like 2018's Beautiful You, a downtempo salve for DJ fatigue His melodic sensibility and playful ear for atmosphere remain the rippling core of the project's fingerprint; whether beat-driven or ambient, a foggy smear or a dusted and pristine print, a Khotin track has a distinct and instantly recognizable swirl. During and after the 2020 release of Finds You Well, his second LP on Ghostly International, Khotin-Foote settled back into a slower vibe in his hometown of Ed- monton. Even before the pandemic, his pivots to softer production, and away from DJing, left him with fewer opportunities in Vancouver and club bookings overall, and as a self-identifying introvert, he was fine with that. But the change of pace did open space for Khotin-Foote to grapple with concepts of adulthood and career. At his lowest, he almost walked off this musical path altogether; instead, he doubled down on the craft _ the tone, pacing, and dynamism of new material _ arriving at a definitive full-length. With Release Spirit, Khotin releases himself from the pressure of expectation, fusing and refining everything we know about his music. The warmth and familiarity of Khotin's dreamy, dulcet style meet new ideas and frameworks, a natural progression, a modest revelation; Khotin confirms it is okay to move slowly and he's never sounded better doing it. The album title borrows from the "release spirit" mechanic in the video game World of Warcraft. When players die, they are prompted to release their spirit and return as ghosts to find their corpses and come back to life. Khotin sees it as a worthy metaphor for the impending change his return home presented and the resulting process of purging artistic expectations to find his creative self again. On this go- around, he is freer, more playful, and more intentional within his palette of warped synth, breakbeats, and piano sounds _ including the classic Casio SK-1 presets he's used since the start _ mingling with wistful samples, field recordings, and other abstract snippets. For the first time, he enlisted Nik Kozub to do the mix and assist with sequencing. Khotin-Foote has long worked with the Edmonton-based musician and engineer in the mastering phase, as well as their days co-running the label Normals Welcome, and this time was able to involve his ears earlier given their newfound proximity. "I think it's my best sounding record to date." We begin on "HV Road" or Happy Valley Road, where Khotin-Foote spent time during a family vacation in British Columbia's Okanagan Lake. His plans to record crickets at night are quickly foiled by his younger siblings; the cute exchange orients the listener to a core memory of sorts, setting the tone of universally understood warmth and wonder that has defined some of Khotin's most transportive tracks. Hazy percussion takes hold, and we are swept further into the wisp of "Lovely," a grooving, melodic standout built on the interplay between the beat and human voice-like hums. Khotin knows this zone well; equally suited for a reverie or a club warm-up. The bubbling atmosphere and absurdity of "3 pz" offer a cosmic/comic interlude and also speak to reflections on his family's move to Canada two generations ago, and the audio tutorials they used to learn English. "I can only imagine my grandpar- ents repeating some of the bizarre phrases." "Fountain, Growth" finds Khotin in collaboration with Montreal's Tess Roby (Dawn to Dawn) for the project's first-ever vocal track. Roby's soft cadence echoes atop spiraling air pockets of rhythmic production, lending a breezy, almost shoegaze pop feel. Throughout the single and the album, wind gusts between the compositional layers, akin to the roaming spirits of its namesake, curving around the birdsong of "Life Mask" and seamlessly reaching "Unlimited <3." The latter bumps in slow motion; disembodied whirrs from his Casio collide with 808 drums and sub-bass for a vibe that teeters on trap and instrumental hip-hop. Release Spirit rests in a dream sequence. Oscillating synth lines dance around the heartbeat of "Techno Creep," a hyperactive REM state before the digitized ambient sprawl of "My Same Size." In the final pass, Khotin imagines transcontinental travel from the glow of his screen. He recorded "Sound Gathering Trip" to soundtrack a genre of YouTube videos he's taken to that follows train routes through Europe and Japan. The scene is serene and moving; piano keys warble as static-filled sound design shimmers off the rails, from cityscapes to the countryside, an introspective ride through a world beyond his bedroom. It doubles as an apt parting image for Khotin's project as a whole: dreaming big but happiest when riffing on the details, shaping environments from the inside out. Over the last decade, he has stretched from his core in Edmonton, leaving a trace in Vancouver and beyond; but when all signs point home, he loops back to see it all from a different vantage, revitalized, refined, and free.

Canadian producer Dylan Khotin-Foote has kept his Khotin alias going for the better part of a decade; the impressionistic electronic project shifts with the movements in his life. Sometimes it leads, like when the club-friendly grooves of 2014's Hello World immersed him in the heart of Vancouver's underground dance scene, and sometimes it follows, like 2018's Beautiful You, a downtempo salve for DJ fatigue. His melodic sensibility and playful ear for atmosphere remain the rippling core of the project's fingerprint; whether beat-driven or ambient, a foggy smear or a dusted and pristine print, a Khotin track has a distinct and instantly recognizable swirl. During and after the 2020 release of Finds You Well, his second LP on Ghostly International, Khotin-Foote settled back into a slower vibe in his hometown of Ed- monton. Even before the pandemic, his pivots to softer production, and away from DJing, left him with fewer opportunities in Vancouver and club bookings overall, and as a self-identifying introvert, he was fine with that. But the change of pace did open space for Khotin-Foote to grapple with concepts of adulthood and career. At his lowest, he almost walked off this musical path altogether; instead, he doubled down on the craft _ the tone, pacing, and dynamism of new material _ arriving at a definitive full-length. With Release Spirit, Khotin releases himself from the pressure of expectation, fusing and refining everything we know about his music. The warmth and familiarity of Khotin's dreamy, dulcet style meet new ideas and frameworks, a natural progression, a modest revelation; Khotin confirms it is okay to move slowly and he's never sounded better doing it. The album title borrows from the "release spirit" mechanic in the video game World of Warcraft. When players die, they are prompted to release their spirit and return as ghosts to find their corpses and come back to life. Khotin sees it as a worthy metaphor for the impending change his return home presented and the resulting process of purging artistic expectations to find his creative self again. On this go- around, he is freer, more playful, and more intentional within his palette of warped synth, breakbeats, and piano sounds _ including the classic Casio SK-1 presets he's used since the start _ mingling with wistful samples, field recordings, and other abstract snippets. For the first time, he enlisted Nik Kozub to do the mix and assist with sequencing. Khotin-Foote has long worked with the Edmonton-based musician and engineer in the mastering phase, as well as their days co-running the label Normals Welcome, and this time was able to involve his ears earlier given their newfound proximity. "I think it's my best sounding record to date." We begin on "HV Road" or Happy Valley Road, where Khotin-Foote spent time during a family vacation in British Columbia's Okanagan Lake. His plans to record crickets at night are quickly foiled by his younger siblings; the cute exchange orients the listener to a core memory of sorts, setting the tone of universally understood warmth and wonder that has defined some of Khotin's most transportive tracks. Hazy percussion takes hold, and we are swept further into the wisp of "Lovely," a grooving, melodic standout built on the interplay between the beat and human voice-like hums. Khotin knows this zone well; equally suited for a reverie or a club warm-up. The bubbling atmosphere and absurdity of "3 pz" offer a cosmic/comic interlude and also speak to reflections on his family's move to Canada two generations ago, and the audio tutorials they used to learn English. "I can only imagine my grandpar- ents repeating some of the bizarre phrases." "Fountain, Growth" finds Khotin in collaboration with Montreal's Tess Roby (Dawn to Dawn) for the project's first-ever vocal track. Roby's soft cadence echoes atop spiraling air pockets of rhythmic production, lending a breezy, almost shoegaze pop feel. Throughout the single and the album, wind gusts between the compositional layers, akin to the roaming spirits of its namesake, curving around the birdsong of "Life Mask" and seamlessly reaching "Unlimited <3." The latter bumps in slow motion; disembodied whirrs from his Casio collide with 808 drums and sub-bass for a vibe that teeters on trap and instrumental hip-hop. Release Spirit rests in a dream sequence. Oscillating synth lines dance around the heartbeat of "Techno Creep," a hyperactive REM state before the digitized ambient sprawl of "My Same Size." In the final pass, Khotin imagines transcontinental travel from the glow of his screen. He recorded "Sound Gathering Trip" to soundtrack a genre of YouTube videos he's taken to that follows train routes through Europe and Japan. The scene is serene and moving; piano keys warble as static-filled sound design shimmers off the rails, from cityscapes to the countryside, an introspective ride through a world beyond his bedroom. It doubles as an apt parting image for Khotin's project as a whole: dreaming big but happiest when riffing on the details, shaping environments from the inside out. Over the last decade, he has stretched from his core in Edmonton, leaving a trace in Vancouver and beyond; but when all signs point home, he loops back to see it all from a different vantage, revitalized, refined, and free.

Defected continues to commit the label’s biggest digital releases to wax, delivering some of the best house music on vinyl for the very first time. The thirteenth EP in this series brings some of 2022’s biggest tracks together while spotlighting the experienced producers behind them. The A-side celebrates Harry Romero & Inaya Day’s collaboration ‘Rise Up’, originally released in June, the duo brightened the summer that followed with this instant club favourite. The A-side continues with the Deep In Jersey remix of ‘Rise Up’, offering a deeper and dubbier version of the original for selectors. The B-side showcases two cuts from the industry’s best, ‘Push The Feeling’ by Spanish selector and Urbana Records boss David Penn, featuring expertly layered vocals from Leon Stanford. Next up, ‘When The Dust Clears’ is a soulful collaboration between Defected favourite Mike Dunn and songstress LOA., demonstrating the producer’s revered hip-hop inspired sound.

Creative offspring of Tushen Rai and Cornelius Doctor’s musical fantasies, Hard Fist has been a non-profit project encompassing producers, graphic designers, djs and dreamy party worshippers since its inception in 2017.

“We would never have thought that this collective story would bring us this far, that it would take such a place in our lives and that it would bring us so many beautiful encounters. It was only possible to celebrate our 5th anniversary with the unreasonable idea of making something out of the ordinary.

So we thought big, a digger’s dream: a double vinyl in limited edition with 20 artists from 17 countries gathered around exceptional collaborations: producers who have marked the history of the label these last 5 years, friends, but also peers, people who inspired us and gave us the desire to create Hard Fist.

In this Unidentified Noisy Object (U.N.O), you can expect borderless music flirting with Nu-Rave and No Wave, Cosmic Dub and Post-Punk, a slice of Psychedelic Electronica, a lot of Acid and a bit of Slow Goa Trance. As well as some beats of Krautrock played with an Afrobeat groove and a few Darkwave’s synths. But not only that. It’s never only that. But what is it then? Just a label without label, to dance and to explore.

Best listened to from inside the womb, Duster’s 1998’s debut Stratosphere simultaneously capped off and reinvented the slow core’s first wave. A four track dreamscape that will wake the neighbors and then lull them back to sleep. Hazy, arpeggiated guitars layer over a deliberate drummer with no real place to be, as semi-inaudible vocals warn of millennial malaise and subtly encourage the listener to “rock out, rock out, rock out, rock out.

“Music for dark spaces and closed eyelids, deeply psychedelic but without sprawl, ambient music with a serrated edge of punk.”—The Ringer

“Warm, fuzzed-out sounds that hit home like a tight, melancholic embrace from your favorite person.”—Vice

For over two decades Bjørke has cut his own path, as a solo artist and enthusiastic collaborator. Bjørke’s Copenhagen home may be one of Europe’s great cultural hubs, and he’s certainly added a paragraph or two to that story, but his music is distinctly international. Even a cursory listen exposes an impressive, ever-evolving career. However, few expected him to initiate the collaborative ambient / neo-classical project Kasper Bjørke Quartet. In 2018 The Fifty Eleven Project was released on Kompakt Records, a deeply personal record that musically documents Bjørkes encounter with, and triumph over, cancer. The album topped many critics' lists, and was included among The Guardian’s Best Contemporary Albums of the year.

Mother, which will be released on October 28th, represents a quantum leap forward. Literally, when you consider the terrestrial shifts that informed it. Six compositions explore what the evolution of our planet sounds like. While Holst may have gotten there first, Mother singularly focuses on the orb where we reside, from its formation, to its likely conclusion. Other artists have tackled song cycles that parallel a day, a year, or even a lifetime. Mother spans a timeframe from 4.5 billion years ago up to humankind’s impending demise. It hints at how that may be sooner than we think, as well as the earth’s resilience, and the promise of another chapter.

Additional gravity comes courtesy of evocative choir arrangements - - and marimba recorded at the Copenhagen Opera House. “Formation” condenses 20 million years of runaway accretion into 20 minutes. It is sublimely padded by feature artist Sofie Birch’s gentle synths. “Abiogenesis” intimates a different type of emergence: the first life to inhabit our nascent planet. The entire cosmos is condensed into the layered vocals of Philip|Schneider. Birch returns on “Miocene,” which signals the divergence of proto-humans from primates not with foreboding, but rather cascaded notes and swells adumbrating a pure and curious being, revealing nothing of what the Catch-22 of knowledge will bring. That’s addressed in the diptych of “Anthropocene” and “Tipping Points,” respectively marking the dawn and foreshadowing the probable downfall of homosapians, through wondrous advancements and their climate damaging byproducts. It’s tempting to think the album’s finale, “Requiem,” implies only a dark conclusion, owing to its sparkling verrillon’s coronach, and the return of Philip|Schneider’s empyrean vocals, but its juxtaposition with revolving, enigmatic piano chords infers the earth will enter its next act.

Mother is a staggering achievement, encouraging contemplative thought. The album is released October 28th on Kompakt Records, both digitally and on limited edition double vinyl. The atwork is designed by multidisciplinary artist Trevor Jackson.

Seit mehr als zwei Jahrzehnten folgt Kasper Bjørke seinem ganz eigenen Weg, sowohl als Solokünstler als auch als umtriebiger Kollaborateur, während er gleichzeitig das Beste aus Techno, Pop, Elektro, New Wave, House, Ambient, Italo und klassischer Disco aufgreift und in seinen Produktionen zusammenfügt. Bjørke’s Heimat Kopenhagen gilt als eines der großen kulturellen Zentren Europas, und die Stadt hat dieser Geschichte sicherlich den einen oder anderen Absatz hinzugefügt, aber Kasper’s Musik ist eindeutig international. Schon ein flüchtiges Hineinhören gibt den Blick frei auf eine beeindruckende, sich ständig weiterentwickelnde Karriere. Nur wenige hätten jedoch erwartet, dass dieser Werdegang 2018 in der Gründung eines neoklassischen Quartetts gipfeln würde. In diesem Jahr wurde “The Fifty Eleven Project” auf KOMPAKT veröffentlicht. Ein sehr persönliches Album, das musikalisch dokumentierte, wie Bjørke seinen Kampf gegen den Krebs gewonnen hatte. Es wurde unter anderem in die Liste der besten zeitgenössischen Klassik-Alben des Jahres von The Guardian aufgenommen.

“Mother”, das am 28. Oktober erscheint, ist ein Quantensprung für das Kasper Bjørke Quartett. Im wahrsten Sinne des Wortes, wenn man die tektonischen Bewegungen bedenkt, die dem Album zugrunde liegen. Sechs Kompositionen erforschen, wie sich die Evolution unseres Planeten anhört. Gustav Holst (englischer Komponist, dessen bekanntestes Werk die Orchestersuite “Die Planeten” darstellt; Anm. des Übersetzers) war vielleicht zuerst da, aber “Mother” konzentriert sich ausschließlich auf die Erdkugel, auf der wir uns befinden, von ihrer Entstehung bis zu ihrem wahrscheinlichen Ende. Andere Künstler haben sich mit Songzyklen beschäftigt, die einen Tag, ein Jahr oder sogar ein ganzes Leben abdecken. “Mother” umfasst etwa 4,5 Milliarden Jahre, vom Anfang aller Zeit bis zum bevorstehenden Untergang der Menschheit. Das Werk deutet an, dass dies schneller geschehen könnte, als wir alle denken, aber auch die Widerstandsfähigkeit der Erde und das Versprechen auf ein neues Kapitel.

Für zusätzliche Erdanziehung sorgen stimmungsvolle Chor Arrangements und eine Marimba-Sektion, die im Kopenhagener Opernhaus aufgenommen wurde. "Formation" verdichtet 20 Millionen Jahre unkontrollierter Akkumulation in 20 Minuten, subtil untermalt von den sanften Klängen der Ambient-Künstlerin Sofie Birch. "Abiogenesis" beschreibt das erste Leben, das entsteht und unseren Planeten besiedelt. Der gesamte Kosmos verdichtet sich hier in den vielschichtigen Vocals von Philip|Schneider. Birch taucht erneut im Track "Miocene" auf, in dem das evolutionäre Streben des Proto-Menschen weg vom Primaten noch keine böse Vorahnung enthält, sondern mit kaskadenartigen Sounds und langsam anschwellenden Klängen musikalisch vom reinen und neugierigen Wesen des Menschen erzählt, in dem noch nichts von der Zwickmühle zum Vorschein kommt, in die ihn sein Wissen bringen wird.

Das wird im Diptychon "Anthropocene" und "Tipping Points" thematisiert, die den Anfang vom Ende, den Beginn des wahrscheinlichen Untergangs des Homo sapiens durch die Folgen des Fortschritts und seiner klimaschädlichen Nebenprodukte vorhersagen. Es ist naheliegend zu denken, dass das Finale des Albums, "Requiem", nur das düstere Ende von allem darstellt. Doch as funkelnde Glockenspiel und Philip|Schneiders eindringlicher Gesang in Gegenüberstellung mit sich windenden und erratischen Klavierakkorden deuten an, dass die Geschichte der Erde ein neues Kapitel aufschlagen wird.

Mother ist eine beeindruckende Performance, die zum Nachdenken anregt.

Low Company presents Yuta Matsumura’s Red Ribbon, a sequence of introspective, lavishly melodic dream-songs and amphibian atmospheres recorded in scattered periods over 2018-21. Having played in bands like Low Life, M.O.B. and Orion, and the duo Jay & Yuta (with Jay Cruikshank), Red Ribbon is Matsumura’s first solo outing, and represents a conscious effort to move away from guitar-based songwriting. He composed its nine tracks mostly on piano - layering vocals, bass, keyboards, flute (courtesy of Maeve Parker), violin/cello (Laurence Quinn) and clacking drumbox rhythms into dynamic, dubwise avant-pop structures which are supple and spacious but fizzing with detail and vivid inner life. The laconic 4/4 pulse, heat-warped synth-tones and haunting vaporous melodica of opener ‘Box Garden’ set the tone: its surreal psychedelic patternings barely concealing a deep sting of longing and regret. The cryptic lyrics suggest chance encounters, hidden logic, missed opportunities, fatalism, serendipity. A city submerged: everyone else paused mid-movement, while you’re allowed to swim free and fish-like through the streets, over the rooftops...‘Tangled Orchid’ is a tense night-drive through dry desert heat and into the unknown, running away from your old life, chased down by dust-devils of half-baked schemes and abandoned plans, while ‘Myth Machine’ drops the tempo and something mind-altering, guiding us on a tripped-out dub-disco scuba among alien flora and fauna, a world of impossible shapes and sensations. At which point, the mood of the album decisively shifts, firstly with ‘Sake No Otoh’, sung in Japanese by Haruka Sato: an instant-classic, breathtakingly intimate lover's lament that sounds like it got lost on its way to heaven and is now doomed to orbit the earth forever. The songs that follow continue in this more confessional, imploring mode. As if the travelling's done, the baggage has been cast off, and we’ve arrived at our destination, where the real process of rebirth and repair can begin. The music’s textures become less overtly dubby and electronic, with more of an organic, earthy, chamber-pop/avant-folk feel, at once sad and hopeful-sounding. Three songs in particular bear the influence of Eno’s 70s work (and its mutant bedsit offspring Lifetones, Flaming Tunes, etc): ‘‘E. Potential’, where baroquely chorused vocals - half-agonised, half-beatific - teeter on top of simple oscillating piano loops, and the stately, dawntreading ballads ‘Tabula Rasa’ and ‘No Sleep For Birds’. The bulk of the album was made prior to lockdowns and all of that; its themes of reset, self-examination, the need to f**k it all off and take spiritual stock, are timeless. Though they perhaps have a more bittersweet resonance now the world has returned pretty much to how it was, only worse. Track list: 1. Box Garden 2. Tangled Orchid 3. Myth Machine 4. Red Ribbon 5. Soko No Ato 6. Tabula Rasa 7. E. Potential 8. No Sleep For Birds 9. Zookeeper's Trial

Saib is the prolific producer and guitarist whose insatiable desire to create comes from his childhood: passionate about Bossa Nova, Japanese Anime Soundtracks, Jazz as well as old school Hip-Hop, he draws his inspiration from composers and musicians such as Yoko Kanno, Joe Pass and Nujabes. Bathing in the cosmopolitan culture of Casablanca, a melting pot at the crossroads of the two African and European continents. This diversity is a constant in his music, where groove and melody are skillfully mixed in a style inspired by the classic hip-hop productions of the 90s. Hip Hop beats form the backbone of Saib’s musical palette, as his style skips from Jazz flavors to lounge experiments and to upbeat four on the floor grooves ... and sometimes within a single track.

Saib’s hyper-productivity has allowed him to release, over the last five years, seven albums and more than a dozen EPs and singles, including releases on labels such as Chillhop Music, Cold Busted, Majestic Casual and Blue Note Records. Saib’s tracks are a regular fixture on Editorial Playlists including Spotify’s “Jazz Vibes” (2 million Likes) and “lofi beats” and have accumulated more than 500 million plays on streaming platforms.

Saib’s new LP, “Unwind” maintains the stupendous head-nodding grooviness that listeners have come to love from the young producer with a healthy added dose of Tropical and Lounge/Bossa-jazz influence. Album and single artwork done by star-Moroccan photographer Ismail Zaidy (IG: @l4artiste) who has seen his work featured in GQ Middle East, Art Basel, BASE Milano, Vogue Arabia, and has done partnerships with The Sims and Adobe. LP design work done by Jakarta label mainstay, Robert Winter. “Unwind” also includes features by Rotterdam’s ØDYSSEE and legendary Hip-Hop MC Masta Ace. Jakarta is ecstatic to share such a career-defining work, arriving digitally and physically September 16th, 2022.

The albums 1st single, “Mushroom Samba” arrives Wednesday, June 29th along with the vinyl pre-order announcement. The track is deliciously groovy, and is a perfect example of the kind of sunny, jubilant grooves to be encountered on the LP. Saib takes the lofi-expertise he’s become known for since his 2015 debut and brings a freshness to the beat-genre. The song is perfect for the onset of summer and will have you humming along to the brass refrain by the songs end.

2nd single, “Pennywise,” will be released July 13 and features legendary Hip-Hop MC Masta Ace on the album’s only vocal track. The track is a surefire splash of hip-hop that’s both nostalgic and forward-moving. Ace sounds as fresh as ever, flowing over a head-bobbing beat with lush, tropical guitar inflections. While the beat brings to mind sandy shores and sun rays, Ace’s two verses invoke skyscrapers and boomboxes, making “Pennywise” a perfect track for your summer hip-hop fix.

Saib’s 3rd single is the stunning, swirling, and utterly smooth “Cosmic Dust” with Rotterdam producer ØDYSSEE arriving August 10. Keeping with the tropical essence, the track comes and goes like waves on a beach. Soft sounds flow like water before the drums and bass wash in, building to a saxophone and piano heavy crescendo. Like the tide, the beat recedes and the track ends as gently as it began, leaving you wanting to hear it all again.

Single 4, the moody “Suave” arrives August 24 and is bossa nova at its core. What starts off with a familiar Brazilian groove quickly takes a hip-hop turn, with a smooth bass drop and crisp drums layered over bossa nova keystrokes. Warm / timeless saxophone punctuate the track, providing a mellow break between basslines and closing out the end. “Suave” is a sunny and soul-soothing fusion of bossa nova, jazz, and hip-hop, perfect for closing out the summer with.

“Unwind” is a project steeped in the beats that keep you moving and grooving but with a sonic and visual aesthetic palette that goes deeper and groovier than the surface level lo-fi artists that have proliferated in the last 5 years. Ranging from FloFilz and eevee imbued vibrations to Jonwayne-styled beats, Saib brings forth a sonic spa session that invokes a state of calm that leaves you an uplifting and energetic plateau. Dig it.

On High Flying Man, the third LP by Matt Berry’s pseudo-eponymous project The Berries, loss and desire take center stage. Berry delves deep into 21st century malaise, crafting densely layered songs which project an unshakable yearning for deliverance from the world’s shortcomings. Each track extends an outstretched palm towards universal connection, blending a complex of mix of pop hooks, rock swagger, and psychedelia into dejected populist anthems. Faced with the perils of an isolating world, High Flying Man reignites the tradition of great American songwriting, speaking in the voice of the longing masses. At heart, Berry demands more life, rejecting both arty cynicism and nostalgic escapism.

Berry cut his teeth at a young age playing in the bands Happy Diving (Topshelf Records) and Big Bite (Pop Wig), and has since regularly served as a touring member for bands like Angel Dust and Dark Tea. His early work with Happy Diving and Big Bite solidified his position as an upcoming star in the world of fuzzed-out indie rock, earning him tours and opening slots with the likes of Turnstile, Dinosaur Jr., Nothing, The Swirlies, and The Coathangers. With The Berries, however, Berry turns the Big Muffs down (although not off), creating sonic space to stretch his wings as a burgeoning pop songwriter. The psychedelic-surrealist textures of his earlier output are not gone, per say, but rather find themselves folded into more expansive, rock-oriented arrangements, becoming accoutrements as opposed to the driving force of each song itself.

High Flying Man follows The Berries’ previous releases, 2018’s Start All Over Again and 2019’s Berryland. While longtime listeners will undoubtedly recognize Berry’s disaffected drawl and melodic sensibility, High Flying Man’s complex arrangements and expansive sonic landscape place it well apart from its predecessors. Berry enlisted live band members Danny Paul (drums), Emma Danner (backing vocals), and Lance Umble (bass) during the recording of High Flying Man, as well as the mixing talents of Rob Schnapf (Elliott Smith, Beck, Guided by Voices), breaking from the self-produced home recording ethos of the previous Berries LPs. The collaborative nature of High Flying Man’s recording process is reflected in the quality of each song’s arrangement. Freed from the pressure of being individually responsible for every detail committed to tape, Berry was able to focus his attention more fully on the creative demands of constructing a dynamic and cohesive record. High Flying Man pivots away from any sort of obvious nod to Americana tropes, baggy British attitude, or Neil Young-esque riffing, leaning head on into a lush, idiosyncratic grandeur.

Each track evokes the irreverent and flashy style of a songwriting voice finding itself for the first time. Berry’s guitar heroics extend towards new heights, channeling the simple pop mastery of Lindsay Buckingham (“Prime”) and the wicked emotion of a 21st century “November Rain” (“High Flying Man”). Unusual stylistic juxtapositions give certain songs an almost timeless quality: Bert Jansch-esque crooning finds its counterpoint in sweeping, distortion-soaked riffs (“A Drop of Rain”), the primitive rhythms of Amon Duul are given an arena-sized, Britpop facelift (“Life’s Blood”). On High Flying Man, however, the ballad reigns supreme. “Down That Road Again” drips with sentimentality, powered by soft, undeniable pop melodies and pared-down chord progressions. Album-centerpiece “Eagle Eye” teeters between pure grace and extreme sorrow, unfolding into a massive, immediately memorable tide of melancholic beauty.

Lyrically, High Flying Man is both simple and direct. Although often bitter about the state of the world, Berry has no overtly political axe to grind. In some instances, he takes jabs at the moral laziness of aging millennials, expressing his yearning for a return to vitality and conviction (“Prime”). In other instances, Berry turns his criticism inwards, examining his longing for a better life and his repeated tendency to self-sabotage (“Down That Road Again”). These two poles balance each other out, creating a thematic tenor which is more so self-implicating and empathetic than critical. If anyone is to blame, it is the world we have been saddled with, not the people left to pick up its pieces. Although often personal, Berry’s words evoke a universal experience of continued belief in the face of loss. “High Flying Man” chronicles the growing distance between Berry and an old friend who has been shipwrecked by the weight of trauma, evoking the sorrow of trying to love someone who is no longer able to keep up with reality. Even the most somber passages of “Eagle Eye” (“long before I become aware of it, my friend/it’s 6 AM and I’m gonna die”) find their redemption in a burning devotion towards something worth living for (“If there’s one thing I can depend on/it’s my old friend/my shining light/my eagle eye”).

With High Flying Man, Matt Berry embraces undying love in the face of isolation. Daring to want more life becomes a spiritual rallying cry against a world that has failed to make life either meaningful or beautiful. At their core, these songs are not about revolution, but they are about the faith that gives something like revolution a purpose in the first place.

Coming out on July, Jazz Codes is Moor Mother's second and latest album for Anti- and a com?panion to her celebrated 2021 release Black Encyclopedia of the Air. Jazz Codes uses free jazz as a starting point but the collection continues the recent turn in Moor Mother's multifaceted catalog toward more melody, more singing voices, more choruses, more complexity. In its warm, densely layered course through jazz, blues, soul, hip-hop, and other Black classical traditions, Jazz Codes sets the ear blissfully adrift and unhitches the mind from habit. Through her work, Ayewa illuminates the principles of her multidisciplinary collaborative practice Black Quantum Futur?ism, a theoretical framework for perceiving and adjusting reality through art, writing, music, and performance, informed by historical Black ontologies.The songwriter, composer, vocalist, poet, and educator Camae Ayewa spent years organizing and performing in Philadelphia's underground music community before moving to Los Angeles to teach composition at the University of Southern California's Thornton School of Music. She released her debut album as Moor Mother, Fetish Bones, in 2016, and has since put out an abundance of acclaimed music, both as a solo artist and in collaboration with other musicians who share her drive to dig up the untold. She has performed and recorded with the free jazz groups Irreversible Entanglements and the Art Ensemble of Chica?go, and made records with billy woods, Mental Jewelry, and YATTA.