Suche:e static

Exploring hybrid music styles and outernational, borderless musical influences, DJ soFa’s Elsewhere compilation series continues with a sixth instalment, and the second to appear on Kalahari Oyster Cult.

Always ahead of the tide, the Kalahari Oyster is a fine specimen when it comes to the discipline of next-level sound-snooping. Meticulously curated by Belgian sonic globetrotter soFa, Elsewhere XX showcases a dozen outstanding tunes, each dwelling in their own personal space between the imaginary worlds of post-kraut, DIY synth-punk and odd-pop ballads.

Melting these genres with contemporary club music is the mission here. Doused in a thick fog of arcane machine talk, tribal rhythms and cosmic synths, Elsewhere XX is an invitation to escape the hall of LED-backlit mirrors that we’ve so mistakenly come to call our “reality”.

Gathering artists from all corners of the globe – including Radio Hito, Anatolian Weapons, Eylul Deniz, Dame Area and Electronic Body Girl – soFa’s curation lays the groundwork for a unique and thoroughly immersive listening and dancing experience. Through a carefully selected suite of like-minded, yet diverse joints, we run the gamut from distorted funk (“Anita”, “Confiture") and cross-pollinated electroid blueprints (“Walk Away”, “An Abhainn Mhor") to oddball synthpop (“Credo” & Twin Peaks cover "She Can't Die"), reverb-soaked audio safaris (“Fifty Fifty (Anatolian Weapons Dub)") and static-filled postpunk (“Umani”).

soFa's Elsewhere series started in 2017 and this is the sixth compilation to date. Shifting focus with every new instalment, the compilations have previously appeared on labels likes Music For Dreams, Emotional Response and Crevette Records.

Marvelous Legofunk Records offer up new stuff with 4 track ep on black wax.

Boogie business done right sounds, sauntering and primed for a party. Maximum pleasure for the dancefloor guaranteed!

Following the release of a number of EPs on Swiss, German, British and Australian labels, Trinidad will release their debut album ‘Palm Trees & Thirty Degrees’ on October 16th 2020.

The album draws on the Swiss-based trio’s experience of sustaining the energy of festival and club shows, while also providing the perfect background to a relaxed summer evening with friends.


The project provides an opportunity for the trio to indulge in a range of musical influences, blending together a mix of synthesizers with the haunting tones of a church organ, the warmth of a string quartet and regality of an opera singer. The album grew organically, with inspiration taking hold beyond the confines of the studio: the bonus track recorded with a Jamaican reggae singer in the back of a VW bus in Greece. Soundscapes from Colombia to India were captured and embedded.

With "Palm Trees & Thirty Degrees" Trinidad guide listeners on a journey to a tropical paradise; to a wonderful, perhaps peculiar place of confidence, created and shaped by the mental theatre of the moment.

The soft kiss of a warm breeze hits you as you adjust to your new surroundings ("Desembarco"); leaving the static chatter of your thoughts behind in the "Lobby" (feat. MonoAbe) of your mind; you allow yourself to imagine what the evening holds in store (“Kopfkino”); But first, there’s a drink in the “Sunset Bar”, a refreshing cocktail "Luciola" that serves as a gateway for you to plunge into the night. A night of unlimited possibilities, the first instances a blur ("Sagrada"), as time starts to lose its meaning ("Tempus Fugit"); everything spins, everything is possible, everything is ("Elevate"). Suddenly, hours (or is it days?) have passed – it doesn’t matter; what matters is the first sign of dawn, the unmistakable warmth dissolving the darkness (“Alma”); the beat slows, and you feel the "Libération" of the new day; looking around you see the moments you’ve shared etched on the faces of your friends ("Fleeting" feat. Julia Portmann); It is not goodbye, it is only "Au Revoir".

The album was produced by Trinidad in their own studios in Bern and Zurich. It features collaborations with a number of artists: Cornelia Aeschbacher Firmin (Hang), MonoAbe (Mallets & Percussion), Jack Williams (text of "Fleeting"), Julia Portmann (vocals), Zenyth (vocals) and Michael Meier (electric bass). The songs were mixed by Marcel Schneider, mastered by Benjamin Fay. Raïssa Lara Lütolf was responsible for the graphic design.

Belgian talent Ilario Liburni looks to the release of his debut LP, 'Travel So Far', forthcoming on his own label, Invade Records. The eight track affair comes on a double vinyl pack as well as digital form which will follow a month later and proves the man behind it to be a superb producer with plenty to say.

Combining elements of house, minimal and intricate sound design, Ilario also heads up the Cardinal label and first emerged back in 2011 on Monique Musique. Since then he has gone on to release on a number of respected imprints (including Riva Starr's Snatch! And Memoria Recordings), has had his tracks licensed to compilations including Noir's In the House album for Defected and has continued to make a big impression as a DJ around Europe.

The album kicks off with 'Travel So Far', a synthetic and stripped back groove with lots of squelchy sounds, scurrying synths and feathery percussive lines all working their way into your brain. 'Sudden' is another Ricardo Villalobos style track that is elongated, intricate and immersive as it unfolds on soft edged drums. Next up, 'Carrie' is a smooth, dubbed out affair that demonstrates plenty of restraint yet really locks you into its hypnotic groove as static hiss and crackles alongside distant synths colour the spaces left behind.

'Steampunked Sewing Machine' ups the ante a little with a hollowed out drum line rocking back and forth on its heels, and 'Can't Fool Data' starts all waify and minimalistic before getting pulled apart to the sound of whirring machines, and then it drops again; you can imagine dancefloors going wild to its hooky rhythms. 'Jenndrum' is all about the pinging drum kicks and globular toms that make for a peppery groove, 'Pherthothal' toys with a sense of abstract funk and closer 'Schwalbe' is a gloopy, gluey, druggy fusion of slurred synths, hiccupping drums and dark textures that make for involving listening.

This is a genuinely inventive album riddled with fascinating sounds,
a real attention to detail and plenty of otherworldly moods that really stick with you.

Suicide AFTR 7 moves deeper into the shadows on this release, stripping things back while letting the groove hit harder. Built on pumping 808s, restless synth lines, and a subtle acid pulse, the project blends electro, cold wave, and leftfield instincts into something leaner and more focused than earlier records. There’s a proto-80s spirit running through it: raw, tactile, and slightly unpolished, where tension lives in the negative space and repetition becomes hypnotic rather than obvious.

For the first time, real bass guitar and drums enter the picture, adding human weight beneath the electronics without diluting Suicide AFTR 7’s core identity. The result feels rawer, more intimate, and quietly confrontational. Music for late nights, dim rooms, and inward motion. Still unmistakably SA7, but closer to the bone.

»Low Tide, Hi Grypus!« is the new live-iteration of JC Leisure as JC Leisure Group. Documenting an encounter and a communication between human improvisers and atlantic grey seals. The record presents responsive improvisation as a form of cross-species collaboration.

The project began on Porthdinllaen, Wales, where Leisure recorded seal vocalisations from a local colony at low tide. Back in their Liverpool studio, Leisure developed a performance system that translates human musical gestures – pitch, timbre, rhythm, density, presence - into triggers for these seal expressions. The resulting system is dual-active, as in it simultaneously acts and is acted upon in the horizontal instance. It creates a new-music non-linear threshold that cannot be replicated.

»Low Tide, Hi Grypus!« was recorded live at 1210 Berlin and captures one instance of this concept. Local improvisers were invited to encounter the performance system. Recorded in one take, pedal-steel, woodwinds, strings, piano, organ, and electronics gradually learn to listen and respond to the marine voices. This interspecific group moves from intimate duets (that's human, seal) into full ensemble works (humans, seals) over the course of one night.

Rather than treating field recordings as static material, the extensive seal archive functions as an active collaborator: shaping form, pacing, and interaction in real-time. Now that’s marine biology meets human communication!

JC Leisure has previously released work on Sun Ark, Warm Winters Ltd, Not Not Fun and collaboratively with Dialect as Raft of Trash. He has composed a radio play commissioned and broadcast by BBC Radio.

The beauty, confusion, complexity, and intensity of their youth - lived under the shadow and around the scars of conflict - are entangled in the industrial dance-punk hybrid encoded in the record's DNA, aptly entitled Crystalpunk. "This record is us waving a flag for that generation -- the ones who inherited confusion, resilience, and a fractured sense of self." They're waving that flag as intensely as possible too. For the uninitiated, Chalk mainlines the reaction between genres, eras, and cultures, commuting this collision into their sound. The Belfast group could comfortably power an underground warehouse party after-dark, incite a mid-day festival mosh-pit, or shake an arena on any given evening.

Their power has seamlessly translated to the stage with the group packing venues and delivering alternately sweaty and electrifying performances to a growing rabid fan base. As a group, they've sold out shows across the UK, EU and USA, notched festival performances such as Glastonbury, SXSW, BBK, Trans Musicals and more across 11 countries and were handpicked to tour alongside IDLES and Fontaines D.C.. Coming from dissimilar backgrounds and rallying together naturally, Ben and Ross first crossed paths in film school. As the story goes, Ben had noticed a framed poster of Dublin disruptors Gilla Band in one of Ross's Instagram photos and felt a kinship before ever actually speaking to him.

"Nobody else at our school was into experimental noise guitar bands, so that was all I needed to see," laughs Ben. Emerging in 2022, Chalk initially made waves with songs like "Them," "Velodrome," and "Static." Ultimately, they come-of-age and tell a story that resonates beyond borders. Not just a portrait of the band, but one of their home, a complicated place where the sacrifices made and risks taken by activists, artists, ravers and punks created the only environment that a band like Chalk could emerge from. Crystalpunk is not about choosing a side, it's about choosing the future.

B. Chamber (Stratum A), by B. Close, is the first full length solo release by Los Angeles-based multi-disciplinary artist Brian Close. The first of two volumes assembled from some thirteen hours of music produced by Close while residing in Connecticut from 2021-2025, B. Chamber (Stratum A) offers a vivid, fractal afterimage of a prolific, specific time and space in the artist’s oeuvre.

After leaving New York City early in the pandemic to a farmhouse in the countryside with dedicated spaces for multiple sound stations, Close developed an intensive daily practice of melding with the machines. The vast, pastoral backdrop of rural CT provided inspiration and contrast for his ongoing investigations into dynamic, poly-rhythmic electronic music. The sounds on B. Chamber (Stratum A) range from the machine-modeling of acoustic instruments and natural environments to the utterly unhuman, spinning on the axis between crystalline, pointillist precision and shifty blown-cone distortion. Close’s atypical interpretations of rhythm, noise and other undefined musics land in a hybrid zone of their own.

Throughout B. Chamber (Stratum A), Close’s productions are in perpetual motion. Foxtrot’s shifting hi-hats and disembodied voices rise like cicadas propelled by glitching machines and tangled rhythms, Many Drive draws momentum from dubby stabs and twinkling atmospherics. Character Community’s nimble, drifting snares and erratic static are uplifted by swelling synths, and Mpan’s modular mining forgoes drums but is no less propulsive for it. Acre Voices’ seasick pads and deft drum patterns tap an energizing nerve, and closer 5D Bow’s ambush of pummeling machine gun fire spirals into the tryptamine palace and emerges completely rinsed and refreshed.

Equally powerful in the club as in the outdoors, in the headphones eyes closed or on the move, B. Chamber (Stratum A) grants an immersive temporary trip on B. Close’s unique wavelength, with Stratum B to complete the picture in the summer of 2026.

RIYL - Mark Fell, muay thai, Vladislav Delay, gaming, Errorsmith, modular synthesizer.

+++++

Brian Close (b. 1979, NYC) uses the cold logic of mathematics to trigger states of total sensory displacement. Close co-founded multiple AV studios to explore the "hypnotic"—a ritualistic practice of motional-graphism and improvisational sound. His work is a study in synesthesia and the architecture of trance, using geometric precision to dissolve the sense of time. It is a digital-visceral experience built on heavy logic, designed for large-scale immersion and timelessness.

Close is one half of Georgia who have released records on Palto Flats, Firecracker Recordings, Meakusma, Youth, OOH-Sounds and EM Records, and have a long-running residency on NTS.

B. Chamber was written, produced and mixed by Brian Close.
Mastered by Rashad Becker.
Artwork by Brian Close.

Making a welcome return nine years on from his last outing on Dekmantel, Makam offers up a generous helping of wayward grooves that take his curious spirit even further into unmarked territory. With a strong dub sensibility grounding his rich tapestry of percussion and instrumentation, Guy Blanken follows his own path to arrive at an album that embodies house music as a launchpad for experimentation.

Blanken says himself he was determined to approach his first Makam productions in years from a place of total freedom — "It's not a single direction, but rather a landscape of sounds, moments, and textures. TARP feels like a new beginning, a free project that just had to happen naturally." The steady pulse of the club remains a guiding principle boldly manifested on heads down roller 'Static Shade', but even in the lilting organic loops and tumbling percussion of 'Forgive' there is a funkiness that's beholden to continuous movement.

At times the direct thump of 4/4 disco juts out as a call to dance, not least on 'Flying Birds' and 'La Tuna', but elsewhere the rhythms are more slippery. 'Dub In Loen' plots a delicate path through dub techno and 'Lummel Spirit' casts off into pattering Balearic bliss. The pervasive dub mood of the record comes to the fore on expertly crafted stepper 'Diagonal Rain' and crooked album opener 'Clear Skies'. 'Jackie B' lands as a love letter to quintessential deep house, and yet still there's a left-of-centre charm that gives the track a personality that is pure Makam.

Exuding warmth and imagination at every turn, TARP is the perfect example of how to make a groove-oriented album a rich home listening experience. There are ample moments primed for the spectacle of the dancefloor, but the mellow hue and broad sweep of approaches make Makam's welcome return utterly compelling from end to end.

Schneller, technischer und politisch aufgeladener Punkrock mit scharfen Riffs, detailreicher und intensiver Schlagzeugarbeit und starken Melodien - angetrieben von der unverwechselbaren Stimme der Sängerin. Mit ihrem neuen Album Take Care präsentieren sich Melonball vielseitiger, schneller und emotionaler denn je. Die Band aus Nürnberg verbindet gesellschafts- und politisch relevante Themen mit sehr persönlichen Momenten. Musikalisch präsentiert sich die Band direkt und zugleich instrumental ausgefeilt: facettenreiche Arrangements treffen auf Melodien, die sich einprägen. Die Produktion bleibt bewusst roh - ohne Schnickschnack, unmittelbar und greifbar. Dadurch treten die Stärken von Melonball klarer denn je hervor: der charakteristische, ehrliche Gesang, aufgenommen ohne große Nachbearbeitung, die eingängigen Hooks und die präzise Balance aus spielerischer Technik und Melodie.

Do You Want More?!!!??! Is the second studio album and the major-label debut from The Legendary Roots Crew. The album, recorded with the original crew, including Scott Storch, was released January 17th, 1995, and was immediately welcomed with open arms by critics, the Chicago Tribune wrote, “This is an impressive display of skills, intelligently arranged and performed.” Do You Want More?!!!??! prepped fans for what The Roots were capable of, and would later show on their magnum opus, Things Fall Apart.

As Nathan Fake rises from the nocturnal subterranea and rave catharsis of his previous records, on Evaporator, he resurfaces into the domain of daylight, bringing a tangible sense of air rushing against your face, of big skies, and endless landscapes.

The idea of pop accessibility that trickled into 2023’s Crystal Vision is refracted here through the prism of sweeping ambient, deep electronica, and trance uplift. Evaporator is Fake’s idea of “airy daytime music”, with each track a different barometer reading across the album’s varying atmospheres, which range from vibrant sunbursts, bracing rainscapes, and fine mists of clement melodics. “It’s not overtly confrontational electronic club music,” states Fake. “It’s quite pleasant, it’s accessible. As I was progressing through making the tracklist, I called it a daytime album. It doesn’t feel like an afterparty album.” For the past decade Fake has been gingerly introducing collaborations with heroes and friends alike into his lone, idiosyncratic working process.

Border Community alumni Dextro AKA Ewan Mackenzie transmutes his ferocious drumming for Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs into the blurred choral thump of ‘Baltasound’. ‘Orbiting Meadows’, meanwhile, is his second collaboration with Clark, an eerily idyllic duet where microtonal 18EDO piano clangs slowly twirl around wailing pads. Evaporator marks the junction point of old technology and ever fresh creativity for Nathan. The trusty “dinosaur” age software, particularly Cubase VST5, that has powered two decades of music is rarely updated. “I used to sort of feel a bit ashamed of using such old software, and then I kind of had an epiphany – that’s just how I work”, comments Fake. “That’s just how I play. I’m very fond of these old tools, and I get the most joy out of them, but now I’ve incorporated new technology too.” When an artist accumulates so much synergy with their instrument, music making becomes instinctual. By Fake’s account, much of Evaporator just fell into place. The album title arrived randomly in his head (“it felt completely perfect. Airy.”), ideas looped and developed until things locked into place and just felt right. ‘The Ice House’ is a fleeting glimpse of the sonic world he taps into in this creative state, its glassy FM synths built around a counterpoint between rough-hewn crystalline arpeggios and sparse yet gravitas-bearing bass. “That riff I just wrote out on the keyboard, I just played it forever and ever and ever.

The original track ended up being really short. Here you go, and it’s gone!” These unplanned channellings of sound call forth records from Fake’s past while he looks ahead, perhaps getting at the very essence of his musicianship. The opener ‘Aiwa’ (“the breeziest,” he muses) reminds of the introspection that characterised Providence, excited by the fire and grit of Steam Days’ textural experiments, its chunky slams and clatters surging into a flood of harmonic buzzing as they reach out for old wisdom. ‘Hypercube’ stampedes in a similar chronological confluence, infusing an incessant synth line reminiscent of the golden age of rave with the crackling, ecstatic energy of modern festival anthems. Like the vaporisation of liquid to particles, everything that Evaporator presents has a mutant desire to be amorphous. Sounds rarely settle; the irradiated garage beat of ‘Bialystok’ is pitched downwards to driving, rebounding effect, while ‘You’ll Find a Way’ warps static into shivering energy, cinematic synth strings building anticipation into a gradual gush of chords. This translates into a more expansive stereo field than Fake has explored before.


‘Slow Yamaha’ saves the wildest, most kinetic transformations for last with a cornucopia of crispy melodies and fried drums; a sibilance of cymbals on the left, a susurrus of shakers on the right, and kaleidoscopic lasers pulsing and fizzing all around. Evaporation culminating in pure excited atoms.

Carnivalfinds the Fort Worth trauma ray captures some of their strongest, most intense, and exploratory work within the boundaries of a whirlwind year. The breakout success of Chameleon, their 2024 debut on Dais Records, further established the band amidst the current wave of shoegaze revivalists, yet increasingly agile, able to weave between scenes, touring throughout 2025 with the likes of Deafheaven, Loathe, and TouchéAmoré. A confluence of blitzing riffs and stark beauty, theirsound continues to evolve, nodding to loud-quiet-loud greats across metal, grunge, and shoegaze from Slowdive to Smashing Pumpkins. Carnival delves into moodier, more cerebral material, like holding theirpast excursions against a funhouse mirror. There's a distinct sense ofunease in these songs, built as a band in a fleeting window of time, proving they work best under pressure and when pulling from thedarkest corners of their subconscious. The wordless "Carousel" ushers in the EP's unsettling atmosphere withblasts of static and downcast strums giving way to "Hannibal", ananthemic track packed with power riffs and raw emotion. The band has hit this kind of sheer power before, from 2018's "Solstice" to Chameleon's title track, while "Hannibal" contorts with a tinge ofunprecedented evil, slithery, "Stone Temple-y, Alice in Chains-y," Avilaquips. Lyrically, he taps into teenage angst, the feeling of beingdissected and rejected.

Carnivalfinds the Fort Worth trauma ray captures some of their strongest, most intense, and exploratory work within the boundaries of a whirlwind year. The breakout success of Chameleon, their 2024 debut on Dais Records, further established the band amidst the current wave of shoegaze revivalists, yet increasingly agile, able to weave between scenes, touring throughout 2025 with the likes of Deafheaven, Loathe, and TouchéAmoré. A confluence of blitzing riffs and stark beauty, theirsound continues to evolve, nodding to loud-quiet-loud greats across metal, grunge, and shoegaze from Slowdive to Smashing Pumpkins. Carnival delves into moodier, more cerebral material, like holding theirpast excursions against a funhouse mirror. There's a distinct sense ofunease in these songs, built as a band in a fleeting window of time, proving they work best under pressure and when pulling from thedarkest corners of their subconscious. The wordless "Carousel" ushers in the EP's unsettling atmosphere withblasts of static and downcast strums giving way to "Hannibal", ananthemic track packed with power riffs and raw emotion. The band has hit this kind of sheer power before, from 2018's "Solstice" to Chameleon's title track, while "Hannibal" contorts with a tinge ofunprecedented evil, slithery, "Stone Temple-y, Alice in Chains-y," Avilaquips. Lyrically, he taps into teenage angst, the feeling of beingdissected and rejected.

Introducing The Hard Line is available on translucent green vinyl
Neither Fish, Nor Flesh is available on red coloured vinyl
Symphony Or Damn is available on gold coloured vinyl
Vibrator is available on blue coloured vinyl
JUST 400 AVAILABLE IN UK!!

180 gram audiophile vinyl, Newly remastered audio, processed at Artone Studio, approved by Sananda Maitreya
Anti-static black poly lined inner sleeves, Deluxe heavyweight sleeves on uncoated paper
All 4 albums include separate inserts with brand new introduction liner notes written by Sananda Maitreya
Box set is a limited edition, Hype sticker
Sananda Maitreya proudly announces “JUVENILIA : The Columbia Years”, a meticulously curated 4-LP box set bringing together
his first four groundbreaking albums, originally released between 1987 and 1995 Introducing the Hardline, Neither Fish Nor Flesh, Symphony or Damn, and Vibrator.
Set for release on February 6th, 2026, JUVENILIA mark the first time these iconic works have been remastered and presented together on
premium 180-gram vinyl, complete with restored artwork and new liner notes by Sananda.

Produced in collaboration with Sony Music UK, Music On Vinyl and Treehouse Publishing, “Sananda Maitreya’s JUVENILIA : The Columbia Years”,

pays tribute to a pivotal creative era that helped redefine the sound and spirit of modern soul, pop, and rock in the late 1980s and 1990s.

This album is about growth... Living and learning, having fun, wordplay, heartbreak, and moving on. Flashes in the dark is pretty much a testament to what can be done with two turntables and a mic to create something different yet brilliant in the hip hop space. The album also shows maturity and a certain vulnerability not being expressed by a lot of other artists at this time.
There is so much going on in the world and this album is J Scienide's expression of what was going on in his world during the time of recording. "As soon as I got beats from Giallo if I was up in the wee hours of the night, I was writing and recording. To me this album shows that even in the darkest hours there's always flashes of brilliance that shine through".

This album is about growth... Living and learning, having fun, wordplay, heartbreak, and moving on. Flashes in the dark is pretty much a testament to what can be done with two turntables and a mic to create something different yet brilliant in the hip hop space. The album also shows maturity and a certain vulnerability not being expressed by a lot of other artists at this time.
There is so much going on in the world and this album is J Scienide's expression of what was going on in his world during the time of recording. "As soon as I got beats from Giallo if I was up in the wee hours of the night, I was writing and recording. To me this album shows that even in the darkest hours there's always flashes of brilliance that shine through".

Una interpretación de Soinuarenbidea II debería partir de esta premisa: todo es posible, nada es aleatorio, y en sí mismo es un imposible de aleatoriedades. El escenario planteado explora la idea de realidad aumentada desde una percepción sonora, ambiental y colectiva. La obra transita hacia adelante y hacia atrás recreando experiencias extintas de porvenir incierto, tratando de facilitar un fin pacificador. Cada pieza sonora se crea, se despliega, se repliega y se destruye, en una torsión permanente de toda la realidad que hace posible cada fragmento musical, cada identidad acústica, cada espacio sonoro. Lo onírico, la ficción, y el viaje están continuamente presentes, y es en el transitar de cada fragmento donde se produce el diálogo de la exposición musical. Los elementos de esta ficción se recrean continuamente, en un continuum donde se entrelazan y se van contorsionando a medida que crecen o decrecen con cada fragmento de síntesis concreta. Los temas explícitamente musicales son el magma que conduce a dar voluptuosidad al disco, siendo la piel un contexto o límite que en sí mismo fluctúa indefinidamente en texturas y configuraciones posibles. Y la urdimbre del silencio es la síntesis que está continuamente presente y que trata de cohesionar los fragmentos en continua colisión expresiva. Las grabaciones de campo proporcionan el material sonoro concreto, y como un fractal sonoro cada una de ellas ofrece diferentes grados de interpretación que a su vez conduce a nuevos fragmentos y nuevas creaciones. Así que se puede pensar que esta es una síntesis de una posible realidad, pero interpretable en infinidad de maneras. Un movimiento y una estaticidad implícitas que generan estructuras y dinámicas acústicas. Lo que se escucha no es real, pero en sí mismo forma parte de la realidad, creando un escenario expectante. Lo cinematográfico, plástico y teatral, danzante y dinámico cobra importancia en este juego, porque se trata de contar una historia, una experiencia recreada desde los puntos de vista del arte visual. Es a su vez hilo conductor y entretenimiento, discurso político y puro divertimento. Es desde este espacio de convivencia artística que tiene sentido la totalidad y justifica el formato sonoro planteado. La contradicción de la obra es patente en el formato, y es a su vez el planteamiento de una accidentalidad en el devenir vital. Contenedor de Ruido recoge todas estas contradicciones y las manifiesta en la obra Soinuarenbidea II. Es una historia sonora, es un cuento acústico. Es un fragmento de vitalidad en imágenes audibles. Es una invitación a la reflexión, a la crítica, al disfrute, a la meditación, a la celebración. Y sobre todo es esperanzadora apreciación de la realidad como algo maleable que confeccionamos colectivamente, que requiere de una paciente observación y la participación colectiva global, en un mundo finito pleno de diversidades y del que ignoramos prácticamente todo, al que deberíamos volver con respeto y devoción.

Soinuarenbidea II-ren interpretazio batek premisa honetatik abiatu beharko luke: dena da posible, ezer ez da ausazkoa, eta, berez, ausazkotasun ezinezko bat da. Planteatutako agertokiak errealitate areagotuaren ideia aztertzen du, soinu-, ingurumen- eta talde-pertzepzio batetik abiatuta. Lanak aurrera eta atzera egiten du, etorkizun zalantzagarriko esperientzia desagertuak birsortuz eta helburu baketsua lortzen saiatuz. Soinu-pieza bakoitza sortu, hedatu, tolestu eta suntsitu egiten da, musika-zati bakoitza, identitate akustiko bakoitza eta soinu-espazio bakoitza ahalbidetzen dituen errealitate osoaren etengabeko bihurdura batean. Onirikoa, fikzioa eta bidaia etengabe daude presente, eta pasarte bakoitzaren joan-etorrian gertatzen da musika-erakusketaren elkarrizketa. Fikzio honen elementuak etengabe birsortzen dira, continuum batean, non sintesi zati zehatz bakoitzarekin hazi edo txikitu ahala elkar lotzen eta bihurritzen diren. Esplizituki musikalak diren gaiak diskoari atsegintasuna ematera eramaten duen magma dira, azala testuingurua edo muga izanik, testura eta konfigurazio posibleetan mugarik gabe aldatzen dena. Eta isiltasunaren irazkia etengabe presente dagoen sintesia da, zatiak etengabeko adierazpen-talkan kohesionatzen saiatzen dena. Landa-grabazioek soinu-material zehatza ematen dute, eta soinu-fraktal batek bezala, horietako bakoitzak interpretazio-maila desberdinak eskaintzen ditu, eta horrek, aldi berean, zati eta sorkuntza berrietara eramaten du. Beraz, pentsa daiteke errealitate posible baten sintesia dela, baina hamaika modutan interpreta daitekeena. Egitura eta dinamika akustikoak sortzen dituzten mugimendu eta estatikotasun inplizitu bat. Entzuten dena ez da erreala, baina, berez, errealitatearen parte da, eta agertoki espektakularra sortzen du. Zinematografikoak, plastikoak eta antzerkikoak, dantzariak eta dinamikoak garrantzia hartzen dute joko honetan, ikusizko artearen ikuspegitik birsortutako istorio bat, esperientzia bat, kontatzea baita helburua. Aldi berean, hari gidaria eta entretenimendua da, diskurtso politikoa eta dibertimendu hutsa. Elkarbizitzarako espazio artistiko honetatik osotasunak zentzua du eta planteatutako soinu-formatua justifikatzen du. Obraren kontraesana nabarmena da formatuan, eta, aldi berean, bizi-bilakaeran istripu-tasa bat planteatzea da. Zarata-edukiontziak kontraesan horiek guztiak jasotzen ditu eta Soinuarenbidea II obran adierazten ditu. Soinu istorio bat da, ipuin akustiko bat. Bizitasun zati bat da, irudi entzungarrietan. Hausnarketarako, kritikarako, gozamenerako, meditaziorako eta ospakizunerako gonbidapena da. Eta, batez ere, itxaropentsua da errealitatea modu kolektiboan egiten dugun gauza xaflakor gisa hautematea, behaketa pazientea eta partaidetza kolektibo globala eskatzen dituena, dibertsitatez betetako mundu mugatu batean, ia guztia kontuan hartzen ez duguna, eta errespetuz eta debozioz itzuli beharko genukeena.

An interpretation of Soinuarenbidea II should start from this premise: everything is possible, nothing is random, and in itself is an impossible randomness. The proposed scenario explores the idea of ​​augmented reality from a sonic, environmental, and collective perception. The work moves back and forth, recreating extinct experiences of an uncertain future, seeking to facilitate a peaceful end. Each sound piece is created, unfolds, retreats, and is destroyed, in a permanent twisting of all reality that makes each musical fragment, each acoustic identity, each sonic space possible. The dreamlike, the fictional, and the journey are continually present, and it is in the transit of each fragment that the dialogue of the musical exposition takes place. The elements of this fiction are continually recreated, in a continuum where they intertwine and contort as they grow or diminish with each fragment of concrete synthesis. The explicitly musical themes are the magma that leads to the work's voluptuousness, the skin being a context or boundary that in itself fluctuates indefinitely in possible textures and configurations. And the warp of silence is the synthesis that is continually present and seeks to unite the fragments in a continuous expressive collision. The field recordings provide the concrete sound material, and like a sonic fractal, each one offers different degrees of interpretation that in turn lead to new fragments and new creations. So one can think of this as a synthesis of a possible reality, but interpretable in an infinite number of ways. An implicit movement and staticity that generate acoustic structures and dynamics. What is heard is not real, but in itself is part of reality, creating an expectant scenario. The cinematic, plastic and theatrical, dance and dynamic aspects take on importance in this game, because it is about telling a story, an experience recreated from the perspective of visual art. It is at once a common thread and entertainment, political discourse and pure entertainment. It is from this space of artistic coexistence that the whole makes sense and justifies the proposed sound format. The contradiction of the work is evident in its format, and it is, in turn, the presentation of an accidentality in the course of life. Noise Container gathers all these contradictions and manifests them in the work Soinuarenbidea II. It is a sound story, an acoustic tale. It is a fragment of vitality in audible images. It is an invitation to reflection, to critique, to enjoyment, to meditation, to celebration. And above all, it is a hopeful appreciation of reality as something malleable that we collectively craft, requiring patient observation and global collective participation, in a finite world full of diversity and of which we know practically nothing, to which we should return with respect and devotion.

Paisajes sonoros, diseño sonoro, drones y música grabada, realizada y arreglada para Contenedor de Ruido por David Aranaz. Coro: Basandere Ahotsak. Producido y mezclado por David Aranaz. Mástering: Estanis Elorza. Fotografía: David Aranaz. Texto: David Aranaz. Traducción: Saioa Aranaz Oreja. Trabajo y Diseño artístico: Cristina Martinez. Edición: Contenedor de Ruido Producciones y Sarbide Music. Distribución: Contenedor de Ruido.

Contenedor de Ruido agradece el apoyo en la realización de Soinuarenbidea II al coro Basandere Ahotsak y en especial a Eva Orbara Goicoa.

Soinuarenbidea II está dedicado al pueblo palestino.

Paisajes y objetos Sonoros, samplers y otras músicas transformadas para Soinuarenbidea II
Burlada: Paseos sonoros matinales por Merindad de Sangüesa, Calle Mayor, Capuchinas, Parque Uranga y varias iglesias y plazas. Pasajes del cotidiano: basura de papel, cristal y plástico.
Pamplona: Cementerio de San José. CEIP Sanduzelai /// Quinto Real: Fábrica de Armas, Puerto de Urkiaga y alrededores. Suite del silencio, bosques en movimiento /// Fábrica de armas de Orbaiceta: regatas, biosques, paseo sonoro hasta regata /// Belate: Puerto de Belate y alrededores. Vacas en pradera junto a las turberas /// Bardenas Reales: Suite de guitarra y Suite del silencio, estepa desértica /// Austria: Tranvías de Graz y Viena. Muchedumbre del metro de Viena.
Voces cinematográficas de: Matanza en Texas, Robocop, Espíritu Sagrado, Solo los Amantes Sobreviven, Voces de Gaza, Yojimbo, Terciopelo Azul, Los 7 Magníficos.
La pista A2 está dedicada a la memoria de David Lynch.
La pista B4 está dedicada a Eva Orbara Goicoa.
Pista A4: Contiene interpretaciones de piano de Three Piano Pieces Op.11 de Arnold Schoenberg.
Pista A5: Es una interpretación expandida con síntesis FM del Concerto Op. 24 - Etwas lebhaft - de Anton Webern.
Pista A7: Contiene la canción Besarkatu ninduzun (Letra de Josune López y música de Josu Elberdin) en interpretación de Basandere Ahotsak en la iglesia de Burutain bajo la tormenta.
Pista B2: Contiene la canción Recuerdos de la Alhambra (Fernando Tárrega) en interpretación torsionada de David Aranaz Sarasa.
Pista B14: Contiene la canción Agur María (Letra y Música de Estíbaliz Robles “Estitxu” y arreglo exclusivo de Alfonso Ortiz para Basandere Ahotsak) en interpretación de Basandere Ahotsak.

Equipamiento para Soinuarenbidea II.
Micros de condensador SE7, configuración XY y ORTF; Micros de cinta ORTIZ LUTHIER configuración XY y Blumlein; Grabadoras MARANTZ y ZOOM; Sintetizadores y samplers Elektron MONOMACHINE SPS-1, MACHINEDRUM SFX6 y MODEL:SAMPLES. Dave Smith MOPHO. Torso Electronics S-4. Sintetizador Modular 333 DIY; Guitarra clásica ALHAMBRA 6P; Esculturas Sonoras tipo Baschet, cristal y metales; Mesa Soundcraft FX16ii; Interface de Audio RME Babyface Pro FS; DAW Logic Pro; Procesamiento de modelado analógico con Acústica Audio, Waves, Softube, Brainworx, Sonible, Analog Obsesion, Tokio Dawn. Metering de Logic y RME DigiCheck . Amplificación Hafler PRO2400. Monitorización BW DM602 S3. Mezcla digital; Mastering híbrido.

Yesterday it started to rain…

The smell of damp tarmac rising up through open windows, a smell which is uniquely evocative for us all depending on our individual histories: a suburban pavement, a school playground, a basketball court.
The rain cut through a band of low pressure that had been lying over the city for days, pinging rhythmically off metal, causing rolling tyres to hiss and spit.

The music that soundtracked this meteorological shift was the debut full length from Rain Text (Giuseppe Ielasi & Giovanni Civitenga), simply titled III. Scattered throughout the nameless eight tracks there are moments of low-end pressure relieved by the fizz and clatter of metallic rhythms; there is static, there is discord, there is release.

The individuals comprising Rain Text have a long history of manipulating sounds for evocative ends, Giuseppe Ielasi has been making music as one half of Bellows for many years, each album stretching and destroying their sound in beautiful increments. He has also released reliably inspirational music either solo or in collaboration for the likes of Editions Mego, Shelter Press and Faitiche. His sensitive ears are also in high demand as a mastering engineer. It is worth perusing the 800+ releases he has technical credits for on Discogs: from classics of the avant-garde to the freshest faces of the Swedish underground, the chances are some of your favourite albums are included.

Giovanni Civitenga helms the SKYAPNEA long-running NTS show. Joining him, you can enjoy the fruits of a lifetime of deep listening through shows that flit between the industrial and the devotional, a space that is fully explored on III.

The album was recorded quickly over three fertile days in Ielasi’s studio in Monza, but of course results like this can only be achieved at such a pace by spending a lifetime obsessing over the mechanics and possibilities of sound.

Those who are enamoured by the rain—who are returned by it to the surfaces, smells and sounds of a lost and idealised youth; who feel themselves restored—are known as ‘pluviophiles’. Their response to rain may well have a biological explanation: when rain hits tarmac negative ions are released into the air, which are thought to result in feelings of wellbeing and positivity. All the more reason, then, to return to the vivid ecosystem that Rain Text has so carefully cultivated for III."

Words by The Dengie Hundred – August 2024

The frankly ridiculous Burnski is back as Instinct with more face-melting garage and bassline slammers that update the classic sound with just the right amount of evolution. All of these on his latest for his self-title label are 10/10 weapons: 'Halt' is hurried, swinging and syncopated to perfection. 'Choose One' is less streamlined; instead, there are warped and squelchy lines, bursts of static and a more futuristic twist getting you going. 'Crazy' brings brilliantly chosen and well-deployed samples to the fore over a beat that harks back to percussive UK funky at its finest. The flip side offers a trio of slick bouncers, body-popping movers and brightly lit vibes. Superb.

After the big reaction about the "Legacy of Attack Records" 5x12" boxset, we're glad to move forward with 4 more classic tunes from Emmanuel Top legacy, now released in a double 12" package.

Back when the first white labels started floating through the hands of German, British, American and Canadian DJs in late ’84, nobody was ready for what was coming. The official drop hit in early ’85 and the scene was never the same again. This was the moment Mike Mareen broke through the static. Yeah, he’d been working with Chris Evans-Ironside since the ’70s but nothing hinted that together they’d channel something this futuristic. “Dancing In The Dark” sounded like it had slipped through a wormhole: melancholic, hypnotic vocals wrapped in vocoder haze, riding an arrangement so razor-sharp it made most releases of the era feel prehistoric. It didn’t need the pop charts… It owned the clubs. And the clubs listened.

London. Berlin. Madrid. Rome. Paris. Lisbon. Amsterdam. Athens. Toronto. NYC. Tokyo. Mexico City.

One drop of that electro bassline and DJs were hooked. Crowds were hooked. The whole underground was hooked. Soon Europe’s radio charts caved under its pressure, and the track crossed borders on mixtapes, becoming a cult anthem behind the Iron Curtain. It was everywhere, even where it technically wasn’t allowed to be.

Fast-forward four decades and the spell hasn’t faded. “Dancing In The Dark” still shows up in indie dance, italo wave, house and deep house sets. Producers keep re-editing it like it’s sacred material. It’s one of those tracks that DJs treasure, a timeless weapon, one of the top three defining singles of Mareen’s entire career.

And now for the 40th anniversary of its official release, Vintage Pleasure Boutique and Night’n Day Records drop the vinyl every collector and selector has been waiting for: a special reissue loaded with four brand-new remixes spanning the full spectrum of today’s underground indie/disco/italo/house energy.

Tallac – the American Berlin dweller – dives deep into the hypnotic soul of the original, pulling out its buried deep-house DNA and carving out a spacious, emotional roller.

Luksek, Italian producer & DJ, goes raw and dirty: loop-driven, gritty, underground, hypnotic, the kind of edit that eats dancefloors alive.

Flemming Dalum, the Danish Italo grandmaster, finally gets to remix the track he’d always dreamed of touching and of course it’s pure Flemingish electro-italo magic.

And the Polish sparkle: A.P. Mono delivers a shimmering mix of italo disco, glitterbox groove, disco glamour and synthwave glow, all while keeping the spirit of Mareen’s original heartbeat intact.

The wax also features two historical heavy-hitters: the 1985 Jens Lissat’s team remix and Luis Rodriguez’s original arrangement, essential cuts in the Mareen universe.

This release isn’t nostalgia. It’s a resurrection. A celebration. A reminder. “Dancing In The Dark” didn’t survive 40 years by accident, it survived because it still moves bodies, breaks hearts and lights up floors in ways modern tracks can only wish for.

If you’re an indie, italo, wave, house or disco DJ… This record isn’t just worth owning… It’s mandatory.

Futura Resistenza is pleased to present the latest release from the prolific, restlessly creative composer-performer Anthony Pateras, two side-long pieces - one performed by Callum G'Froerer on double-bell trumpet, the other sung by Clara La Licata - in which soloists are accompanied by numerous pre-recorded tracks of their own instrument or voice, creating acoustic halls of mirrors where the distinction between live performer and recorded accompaniment becomes difficult to perceive. Palimpsest Geometry (2020) for double-bell trumpet & tape works with rapidly pulsed single trumpet notes, at brisk tempos that hover at the perceptual threshold between rhythm and tremolo. The interaction between different rates of pulse produces skittering echoes, as if G'Froerer's layers of trumpets were really a single sound bouncing around the sonic space. There Is A Danger Only Our Mistakes Are New (2021) for voice & tape goes to work on a see-sawing two-note melodic cell, insistently transposed and transposed again, hummed or sung with open vowels, contracting to a semitone and expanding to a minor third. More than anything in the canon of Western art music, the piece calls up the criss-crossing repeated figures of Inuit vocal games or the interlocking repetitions of Banda-Linda music, where rhythmic and harmonic displacements of repeated motifs fuse together individual parts into the illusion of an impossibly rich and multi-faceted unitary sonic organism. Essentially homogeneous in texture yet built up from constantly changing details, broadly static yet always moving and shifting, these pieces exemplify Pateras' recent work while also pushing it into a new, strikingly immediate direction. Here, form grows organically out of the material itself; the results are sparkling, immersive, and quietly uncompromising. (Francis Plagne)

Brussels-based accordionist Suzan Peeters releases her debut album Cassotto on the Belgian label blickwinkel. With Cassotto, she opens a door into a hidden chamber of sound. The title refers to the “cassotto” — a small resonating chamber inside the accordion that warms, softens, and deepens its tone. Listening to this record feels as if you’ve stepped into that room yourself, enveloped in a world where intimacy and grandeur collide.

Although this is her first release, Peeters is already recognised as one of the most promising names in Belgium’s experimental music scene. Her distinctive live shows — from leading venues across Belgium to a packed Café Oto in London — have earned her a reputation for combining accordion, electronics and unconventional objects such as a massage board into a compelling whole where contrasts come together in an unexpected way. Cassotto captures this approach in recorded form, giving listeners the same sense of immediacy as her concerts, but framed within the intimate space suggested by the album’s title.

While the cassotto chamber naturally gives the accordion a soft and velvety voice, Peeters harnesses that warmth to explore extremes — from hushed detail to bold, expansive gestures that fill the room. As such, the album moves between the acoustic and the electronic, the tender and the abrasive, the static and the dynamic, the traditional and the experimental.

With Cassotto, Suzan Peeters presents a debut that places the accordion at the centre of an adventurous and contemporary sound world — one that invites to discover how far an accordion can reach when tradition and imagination intertwine.

Suzan Peeters (*1999) is a Belgian accordionist, composer, and experimentalist. She is constantly looking for new timbres and sound textures within the accordion, pushing its acoustic spectrum to its limits by manipulating the interplay between her body and the body of her instrument.
Suzan studied classical accordion at KASK & Conservatorium in Ghent and at the Royal Danish Academy of Music in Copenhagen. She is currently studying Live Electronics at the Royal Conservatory of Brussels.

The capstone of Miles Davis’ electric period, Agharta reigns as a funk-rock fireball — a blazing comet streaked energy and elan, a fearless organism feasting on adventure and freedom, a seven-headed Godzilla stomping its way through Osaka, Japan. Recorded on February 1, 1975 at Osaka Festival Hall at the first of a two-show stand, the double album offers an endless abundance of surprises and shifts — as well as a road-proven ensemble whose chemistry and abilities equal that of any of Davis’ celebrated bands. If the true measure of jazz is the capacity to adapt to the moment and challenge perception, Agharta is consummate.

Sourced from the original master tapes, housed in a Stoughton gatefold jacket, and pressed at Fidelity Record Pressing in California, Mobile Fidelity’s numbered-edition 180g 33RPM 2LP set of this epic live release presents it in audiophile sound on a domestic pressing for the first time. Offering greater degrees of separation, detail, and richness than the compressed CD editions and more clarity, openness, and presence than older vinyl copies, this version of the 1975 release helps bring the concert stage to your home. Just make sure your turntable and speakers are up to the challenge of Davis and Co.’s explosive performances — and producing the decibels they demand.

Teeming with vibrant colors, tones, and pace, Mobile Fidelity’s reissue captures the hear-it-to-believe-it flow, sweep, and moodiness of the music. Though the group honors looseness and freedom with religious verve, the specificity and scale rendered by this remaster allows you to detect methods behind the alleged madness that are often otherwise harder to discern. This insight extends to the understated changes in volume, harmonics, and phrasings. In many ways, you can listen as Davis himself did that early February evening as he helped coordinate the overall direction and decided on whether to blow his wah-wah-wired trumpet or take a turn on the organ.

Tellingly, Agharta would likely never have been made if not for Davis’ ventures overseas and, specifically, to the Land of the Rising Sun. Having for years faced a backlash on his native soil for his choices to experiment and blow past all known borders, Davis was welcomed with open arms in Japan. The concert documented on Agharta — as well as the day’s later show, captured on the equally exciting Pangea — stemmed from a sold-out three-week tour that would ultimately mark Davis’ final public appearances for years, as he soon settled into semi-retirement and nursed the wounds connected to an unprecedented stretch of restless and relentless output.

For all the band-fueled merit of Agharta — and there’s plenty, given the cast of saxophonist Sonny Fortune, bassist Michael Henderson, drummer Al Foster, percussionist James Mtume, and guitarists Reggie Lucas and Pete Cosey seemingly blasts off to outer space and travels distant galaxies by the time this minimally edited record runs its course — Davis’ own playing often remains overlooked. As critics Richard Cook and Brian Morton observed, it is “often fantastically subtle, creating surges and ebbs in a harmonically static line, allowing him to build huge melismatic variations on a single note.” He attacks like a man on a mission, out to prove naysayers wrong and bent on trailblazing another new path forward. Convention and skeptics be damned.

Noisy and furious, dark and discordant, abstract and off-balance, radical and intense, abrasive and atmospheric, strangely beautiful and hypnotically eccentric: Agharta evades simple description, and refuses to be pinned down in any established category — rock, jazz, punk, ambient, prog, avante-garde, or otherwise. Shot through with trench-deep grooves, screaming riffs, scalding solos, and free-improv leads, its cosmic thrust comes on as the equivalent of an animated pointillist painting comprised of millions of textured dots, dashes, and dabs that hold your attention so raptly you want to revisit the ideas again and again.

Always steps ahead of everyone else, Davis knew what he was doing even when Agharta debuted in Japan before later hitting U.S. markets. Though “Maiysha” and “Theme from Jack Johnson” are identified in the track listing, the record contains a number of uncredited references to other Davis works, including a nod to “So What.” This decision to bypass labels only adds to the art of the reveal — the rare black magic in which Agharta expertly deals.

When the ghost in the machine meets the breath in the reed, expect sparks. Electronic sound artist Robin Rimbaud – Scanner joins forces with acclaimed British bass clarinetist Gareth Davis to create an album where circuitry hums, wood vibrates, and the air between notes crackles with possibility.

This is no polite meeting of minds — it’s an elegant collision. Scanner’s intricate electronic textures weave around Davis’s deep, resonant tones, blurring the boundary between acoustic breath and digital pulse. The result is a sound world that’s at once intimate and expansive, familiar yet thrillingly unpredictable.

Think late-night conversations in abandoned buildings. Think fog rolling over neon. Think sound that slips through your fingers even as it takes hold of you.

The songlines in question , memories and distorted images of travels across various continents, form an imagined biography of places that might or might not have been but somehow seem to exist . Landscapes of blurred statements , lost words and echoes of meandering structures.

"If Miles Davis had been raised on shortwave radio static and midnight phone calls, it might have sounded like this."

Acclaimed Scottish composer Craig Armstrong releases his new work Pacific via his own label CMA Records. Written for piano, cello, and electronics, the three-movement piece was originally commissioned in December 2024 by Christian Kellersman, a pioneering figure in contemporary classical and jazz music, for his new live event series Berlin Confidential, co-curated with Alexander Szlovák. The series aims to promote innovative new music projects, with a particular focus on emerging musicians and composers.

Armstrong was among the first artists invited to perform as part of Berlin Confidential, premiering Pacific at Berlin’s historic Meistersaal concert hall in March 2025. The concert featured Armstrong on piano alongside cellist Lena Angelina von Almen and producer and musician Guy Sternberg, combining acoustic instruments with live electro-acoustic treatments to create a rich and atmospheric sound world.

Recorded in May 2025 at Lowswing Studios in Kreuzberg, Pacific continues Armstrong’s ongoing exploration of blending acoustic and electronic sound in a natural, seamless way. Over several days in the studio, Armstrong, von Almen and Sternberg developed the work’s intricate textures and dynamic interplay, resulting in a recording that captures both the intimacy and expansiveness of the original live performance.

Speaking about the inspiration behind the piece, Armstrong says: “I wrote this work during a time of great instability in the world, I wrote “Pacific” as an Elegy dedicated to the many suffering in today’s conflicts and in the hope that peace will prevail.”

Across its three movements, Pacific 1 is elegiac in nature, with the main themes stated and developed throughout the piece, punctuated by recurring piano motifs. The movement is reflective and atmospheric, with subtle electronic interventions. The second movement is arrhythmic in nature, following shifting time signatures that reflect a sense of uncertainty - the music is searching and static, ending without resolution but leaving hope for one to come. Pacific 3 moves towards peace and resolution, bringing the work to a close with quiet strength and emotional release.

When speaking about the creative process and his collaborators, Armstrong said: “Lena’s beautiful playing , tone and expression worked so beautifully on Pacific, Lena was also a great collaborator and was always willing to experiment and try new musical approaches. Lena is such a natural musician and she brought so much emotion and beauty to the piece. I wish her all the best in her future musical journey.”

He continues: Guy is a unique combination of being a brilliant engineer and mixer and a prolific very talented musician/composer. I was very fortunate to spend time with Guy in his studio in Berlin. His sensitivity to the project and his electronic programming made a wonderful contribution to the composition. His collaboration and friendship made the days working in Berlin such a great experience I would like to thank Emma Ford for her dedication, enthusiasm and guidance on Pacific”

For both von Almen and Sternberg, the collaboration was equally meaningful. Von Almen reflects on the experience of recording the piece, saying: “As a musician, it is always a great privilege to work on a piece together with the composer, and of course I felt even luckier to go through the process of creating something new with an artist like Craig Armstrong. Figuratively speaking, it felt like knitting a silk scarf: using the finest materials and taking the utmost care during the recording, we have realised another beautiful and touching work by Craig, which will bring us and certainly many others great joy. I feel very honoured to have been part of this and to have experienced this warm encounter.”

Sternberg adds: “Diving into Armstrong’s music while working on this record felt like examining a diamond under a microscope, discovering endless beauty within simplicity. Perfection and complexity emerging from simplicity, where every note, tone, noise, and gesture has meaning. I’m deeply grateful to have been part of this process, and for the freedom Craig gave me to express myself through his music, to let our sonic visions merge into one. It’s been both a lesson in music-making and in setting the ego aside, if only for a moment.”

Reflecting Armstrong’s belief in the role of music as a force for empathy and reflection, proceeds from Pacific will be donated to charities working towards peace: Médecins Sans Frontières and the Red Cross.

The limited-edition vinyl release has been pressed on Eco Vinyl at SeaBass Vinyl, a sustainable plant near Edinburgh. The record features striking cover art by Dirk Rudolph, who has designed several of Armstrong’s previous releases.

DJ Support: Andy Votel, Nemone (BBC Radio 6), Andy Bell, The Quietus and more

The sweet hum from the vampire wood returns as Five Green Moons make another orbit. Ritual incantations and Dubwise vibrations are fused with angular guitars and skittering basement electronics to form a new entity. Moon 2.

Justin Robertson's second outing as Five Green Moons is a fusion of influences. The presence of occult mystery can be felt in the chants and vocal motifs, there lurks a manifestation of elastic post punk in the zigzag echo further enhanced by the appearance of Brix Smith, former high priestess of the Fall on two tracks. One could draw comparisons with P.I.L, Holy Tongue, the hauntological sound of Current 93, the trippy off kilter hypnotism of Brown Rice era Don Cherry, and of course the solid foundations of Dub. The bass is heavy, the sound spacious. This is a new form of pastoral dub!

Pressed on Limited Green Vinyl.

The debut from Berlin's Misere is a new jewel in the modern post punk crown. Sit back, relax and let the darkness engulf you with their primitive and sparse sound. Standout "Prickelnd" starts with the pounding floor tom and snare and slightly flanged bass before the guitar kicks in and the song takes twists and turns. It’s like a minimal sounding Xmal Deutschland and Blood and Roses with a vocalist that sings with a deadpan delivery. Another standout "Dracula" has the sound and spirit of the first Kleenex single down to a tea, but adds a hint of classic early 80’s goth. Final track "Abrieb" sounds like it could fall apart at any moment, in all it’s glorious chaos. It’s the sound of what UK Decay would have sounded like, if they were women. A superb release that shows the sound of Berlin in 2025.

Sean Forbes, Rough Trade

Eisenmund, the debut by Berlin-based Schimmel über Berlin is a thing of pounding, brittle beauty that seeks to continue on from where angst-ridden, early-eighties Berlin left off. Angular, monophonic synths, guitars that slice through with wiry yet melodic urgency, basslines that pulse with a taut, driven precision and drums that meld everything together. Liv Billerbeck’s vocals come from the middle distance, drifting between detached and desperate, as if transmitted through a wintery cityscape.

Title track Eisenmund jangles with reedy synths floating over a carpet of bass and mournful vocals dripping with a sense of loss. This mood spills over into the other tracks, like post-punk jewel Schreck with its iridescently lovely guitars.

Eisenmund is sharp, atmospheric, and quietly thrilling - proof that the shadows of the eighties can still dance under today's flickering lights. The album, immaculately produced by T-Rex, captures that classic post-punk mood of urban decay, late-night introspection and stubborn sense of motion, which for someone like me, who was there back in the day, seems utterly familiar without ever sinking into mere nostalgia.

Fiona Sangster (Xmal Deutschland)
Die Band Schimmel über Berlin ist eines der vielen Klanggesichter der Liv Billerbeck, ein Gesicht, das man niemals sieht, das im Verborgenen sich umblickt und agiert und das trotzdem aber in einer seltenen Klarheit erscheint. Man sieht es beim Hören, schemenhaft. Ihr Schaffen ist befallen vom West-Berlin der 1980er Jahre (Xmal Deutschland, Malaria etc.).

Eine Rolle, gerade in der musikalischen Brillanz und Produktionsraffinesse, spielt britischer Post-Punk, der sich sehr klar auch im treibenden Spiel von T-Rex ​​​(Bass + Produktion), Việt Phương Vũ (Gitarre) und Christian Ramisch (Schlagzeug – mit Phương übrigens bei der ebenfalls sehr guten Band NOJ) zeigt: The Sound, Killing Joke et. al.!

Es handelt sich bei dieser Musik um einen Sound mit retroesquem Anstrich, der spürbar eine vergangene Luft atmet, einer Nostalgie an eine ferne Zeit anheimfällt, die das Quartett ob ihres Alters nicht erlebt haben kann, und die vielmehr eine Sehnsucht bedeutet, in der Unerfüllbarkeit eine Melancholie mitbringt, eine Art treibende Traurigkeit spürbar macht. Das allein ist groß! Was weitergehend daran aber so interessant, besonders und wahnsinnig schön ist: Das klingt in Billerbecks Schaffen – und insbesondere hier, beim Schimmel über Berlin – nicht wie eine Kopie, ein Abklatsch, eine Reminiszenz oder das, was in der so called NNDW bald flächendeckend geschieht: das Anzapfen einer überholten Coolness. Denn etwas ist ganz gegenwärtig daran, in der Eigenständigkeit, macht einem eindringlich das Hier und Jetzt spürbar, auf unterschiedlichen Ebenen: Traurigkeit, ja, aber auch Bock, bis in die Morgenstunden auszugehen, schnellen Schrittes über rutschiges Kopfsteinpflaster zu traben. Musik dann wieder zum Verkrümeln in zugigen Altbauten, von Schreien über einen nebelbedeckten See im Umland Berlins.

Und eben kein Eskapismus, auch wenn die Musik zur Flucht taugte. Merkwürdig ist, dass in dieser Retroschleife dann etwas Märchenhaftes mitschwingt. Vielleicht liegt es auch in der authentischen 1980er-Jahre Produktion, in der immer wieder so ein Klimpern, ein Schellen durchkommt. Es mag aber auch an den Texten liegen, die etwas von Minnesang haben und in ihrer Klarheit, die aus der Kühle und den Kargheiten (der Vergangenheit, der Gegenwart, der Zukunft) entsteht, doch Wärme transportieren.

Wir hören darin heute, trotz all dem Bewusstsein für die Vergangenheit, den Sound einer seltenen Dichterin der Gegenwart. Das ist von einer Intensität, die einen bald absorbiert. Eisenmund etwa, das Titelstück, ist so ein Song, bei dem man sich hinsetzen oder gleich hinlegen muss. Da sind Dinge, die man nicht ändern kann. Wie geht das? Also: nach vorne, heftig, und dann aber so weich und traurig. Hätten Schimmel über Berlin die 1980er-Jahre dieser Stadt beschallt, sie wären hiermit, das mögen sie selbst vielleicht gar nicht hören, die Helden dieser Zeit gewesen. Eisenmund ist das tollste Album, das mir seit Jahren begegnet ist – und die bisherige Klimax dessen, was aus der Allee der Kosmonauten hervorgeht.

Und wenn man das alles so hört, aufmerksam hört, wird einem, obwohl das alles so ein einziger, riesiger Hit ist, völlig klar: Hier geht es nicht darum, irgendwo damit zu landen, irgendwo mitzumischen, erfolgreich zu sein oder in aller Munde. Hier geht es darum, einfach nur genau das zu machen, was es ist! Alles andere ist egal.

Der Klagegesang wird mich immer umwehen.

– Hendrik Otremba

The first ASFON release has been a year-long labour of love that has come into being from what felt like a lucid dream, off in the distance, too crazy to believe was real. From our first meeting in the Freerotation yurt to late-night exchanges in Bristol, Winkles (Jamie Slater) has been sharing tracks that lingered long after the party ended. Their raw textures and warped sense of time found a natural home in our sets, eventually leading to the emergence of ‘The Unavoidable EP’, a collection of four diverse tracks which form a singular, immersive experience.

On A1 journey, The Unavoidable Consequence Of Familiarity, a knocking kick opens the door to this new sound world, introducing us to the granular clicks, crazed telephony and vocoded grunts which populate the deep space of Winkles’ imagination. Machines whir and perception shifts in the space between distant synth stabs, while a pulsating bassline battles to break through the filter and create a throbbing low end. Hallucinatory and deep, this is the perfect introduction to both the EP and the ASFON outlook.

Semi Stretches sees Winkles pick up a signal from beyond the outer rim, fire up the hyperdrive and lock into the rolling hum of intergalactic techno. Juggernaut bass forms the perfect counterpoint to the rapid fire rim shots trembling away up top as this Venusian club craft battles static, drives through the milky cosmic and transports the dancing bodies to a Multicoloured Plasticine Universe.

Cutting the engines and switching to suspended animation, Winkles lets us drift through a hazy dream-space where there’s no up or down, where twinkling arps, insectile electronics and hazy sirens coalesce into a psychotropic swirl.

Out of this multicoloured mirage comes Osaka-based astral traveller Erik Luebs, who translates that peak-time ambient bubbler into a Balearic chugger which emerges from the ether to add another dimension to the EP. Rubberised bass, velvet pads and nuanced percussion ensure this is perfect for poolside play in a land of pink sand and sideways tides.

Three part journey into an imaginary Amazon from three artists working on the fringes of field recording.

Stories del Tibur​ó​n Llor​​​​​​​ó​​​​​​​n del Amazonas picks up where the previous, Stories of the Indian Dotted Whale trilogy left us. This time, the same three artists, Giovanni Lami, Hannibal Chew II aka Gonçalo F Cardoso and Bardo Todol aka Pablo Picco return to riff on an imaginary crying shark, known to swim in the amazon river. The sad and melancholic shark has never been seen but its weep and sob can be heard all over the region. Here are three works of sympathetic howls for a lonely and misunderstood creature.

First part from Giovanni Lami is made of ghost recordings made during 2020 in Iquitos, Perú, in the amazon forest during the film shoot of “Tras el Barco de Fitzcarraldo”. Second part from Hannibal Chew II is a collection of re-assembled recordings and jams gathered from a trip through the Amazon in late 2017 to early 2018. Later assembled during various improvised recording sessions during the long hot summer of 2023 in Tenerife, Canary Islands. The third and final part comes from Bardo Todol and features abrasive tape and digital field recordings manipulation made by Picco in Iquitos in 2020 during the shooting of “Tras el barco de Fitzcaraldo”.

All three feature sounds of: people talking, static radios, saturday night churches, river people, shawi people, dolphin people, shark people, market people, vibrating insects, zombie insects, giant insects, giant motors and of course various weeps of a crying shark.

Dutch artist Sander van der Toorn returns to Kit Records, following his much-loved work with analogue-decayed folk duo Love is Yes, in 2024. While Sander's signature haze of tape-smeared synthesis and motorik guitar is ever present, "kom-kom" represents a departure from the elysian warmth of Love's debut.

The industrial throb of tracks like 'FIVE' and 'Rainhum' bear the deconstructed hallmarks of krautrock pioneers Neu!, and even the dystopic glow of artists like Plastikman or Pole. When kom-kom's harmonic ambitions resurface, such as on the synapse-aching 'Dwarsdoor', or the glassy structures of 'Hazenhart', the effect is startling.

van der Toorn cites the inspiration of Morton Feldman and Sarah Davachi when describing his work less as a linear listening experience, more a collection of sculptures that can be viewed from different angles. In this way, kom-kom doesn't have to move forward; the encounter can be one of stillness, of static objects given movement by the beholder's shifting perspective.

Sounds like: John Fahey being stretched into infinitely long pieces of spaghetti.
Recommended if you like: intercontinental rail travel, Mark Fisher, a nice malbec.

Limited edition of 100 cassettes, with risograph printed artwork.

In between the folds of ceremony and commonality lies a perennial spring of musical expression.

A statement along the time continuum, or a testament to the resilient resourcefulness embedded in that truth, forms the philosophical approach of this album – the first outing of Dídac.
Studying an extensive archive of instruments, artifacts, and field recordings at the Musée d’ethnographie de Genève—a space steeped in folkloric gesture – Dídac encountered a cosmos of liturgical music and folk song. Anchored in reverance for tradition and transformation alike, this album navigates the old-world Mediterranean lore through a post-modern ambient lens, threading drone, gentle rhythm, electroacoustic textures and the crude tactility of archival material into one woven tapestry.

Under the guidance of Dr. Madeleine Leclair, Dídac was invited to work within one of the world’s most extensive ethno- musicological archives—L’AIMP. In the saturated basements and tape-lined backrooms of the museum, he submerged himself in the sounds of ritual and rural life: wax cylinders from the Eastern Mediterranean, tapes of liturgical hymn, the worn edges of communal song.
In a makeshift studio on the fourth floor of the museum, he sifted through the hours of material he collected, gradually discovering that the archive was no static source – It did not dictate; rather, it served as a companion—offering not answers, but questions. Not a beaten track, but a cluster of sonic clues and riddles. Samples do appear occasionally, tenderly interwoven into the dialogue of the songs. In Dídac’s self-titled debut, the past is not worn as ornament or kitsch; it is listened to and responded to. The museum, its archives, and the visit to Geneva became a foundational culisse of sorts, igniting a myriad of rough cuts and improvisational outtakes.
Dídac, or Diego Ocejo Muñoz, was born in Madrid in 1994 to a family of both Catalan and Castilian origin.

Brought up in a religious household, the influence of the Catholic Church innately shaped the social fabric, schooling and daily life. This lingering dominance led the adolescent Diego into a path of rejection of everything sacramental, promptly resorting to subversion in the shape of grafitti, skateboarding and underground music. Only later in life, after a rigorous venture as an acid and electro producer, the Church re-emerged before him in new light, invoking a deep fascination for its mysticism, iconography and choral tradition.

Spain in general and Catalonia in particular, has long served as a crossroads of the eastern–western Mediterranean continuum, with many of its cultures sharing aspects of way of life and ceremony. At the MEG, Diego found himself puzzled with this realization, resulting in a sonic amalgamation that reaches farther away from the rugged mountains of Catalonia than you might perceive at first encounter.

The deeply embedded memory of rite and public ceremony, religious hymn and landscape—sieved through the undercurrent of personal re-emergence, forms the emotional topography of this album. The record does not trace this landscape; it inhabits it. Its repetitive mysticism and ambient, wide-eyed gaze could possibly evoke (perhaps redundant) comparisons to artists such as Dimitris Petsetakis, or Popol Vuh’s late 70’s cinema scores.
The delicate lines between the sacred and the secular – between memory and re-invention – serve as a cipher to understanding this album in its entirety. Titles like Malpàs Mines or Pantocrator’s Portal Outro nudge toward a folkloric and devotional bedrock—places where labor and spirituality coexist, where names preserve both dust and veneration.

Nevertheless, this is far from mere nostalgia. It is a reclamation — singing alongside the spirits of the past, nurturing what still hums beneath the soil. It is an intimate reflection on tradition, rebellion, adolescence, ceremony and fantasy – a pastoral contemplation on what once was and what is to be.