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El Pulso del Acero: Shinkansen is Esplendor Geométrico's electrifying new album, blending trance-inducing industrial rhythms with bold voice and noise collages. Featuring 16 tracks, it revisits the raw power of their 80s classics while exploring futuristic industrial sounds, with recordings from Tokyo (2025) and a rare previously limited tracks now on vinyl for the first time. After over 40 years of continuous innovation, the influential Spanish duo continues to shape industrial, techno, and experimental noise music worldwide. Available on double vinyl and CD digipack. The raw power of their early work is also present here in some brilliant reconstructions of 80s tracks turning out very different from the originals (Rotorama, Trybuna V, Shinkansen, Héroe del Trabajo 2025, or Introspectivo). Songs such as Auto Reverse will be especially appreciated by the most avid fans of EG's early sound. Other tunes of futuristic industrial music closer to their previous album, Strepitus Rhythmicus, are also included (Experiencia AV, Isla, Por un Perro_) Ten tracks were recorded in 2025 in Tokyo, where Arturo Lanz (founding member of E.G.) currently resides. The other six were released, only on CD,in an ultra-limited edition shared with the group De Fabriek in 2023, long sold out, now finally on vinyl for the first time. Born in 1980 as a trio, and currently a duo formed by Arturo Lanz (founding member) and Saverio Evangelista (member since 1991), Esplendor Geométrico is an influential and international electronic cult band and also a rare case in the Spanish music scene, as they have developed their own independent path aside from tags, fashion or trends, in spite of being often classified as industrial music. Their career for more than four decades hasn't had interruptions. They haven't stopped composing, releasing albums or playing live.Their influence has marked many later artists, usually classified in the so-called industrial music or rhythm & noise, as well as artists from current techno and certain types of experimental noise music.

Latency presents Nexus, the new solo album by virtuoso Iranian percussionist Mohammad Reza Mortazavi, out October 4 on vinyl and digital. Covert art by Jordan Belson.

Mohammad Reza Mortazavi (b. 1979, Iran) is known for his groundbreaking work with the tombak and daf, traditional Persian drums that he has radically redefined through new playing techniques and extended vocabulary. Mortazavi began playing the tombak at the age of six. By nine, he had already outpaced his teacher and won Iran’s national tombak competition - a distinction he would earn six more times. By his early twenties, he was widely regarded as one of the foremost players of the instrument. Since then, his music has continued to evolve, embracing new forms and vocabularies beyond tradition.

Following his acclaimed 2019 release Ritme Jaavdanegi, Nexus marks Mortazavi’s return to Latency with a full-length album recorded entirely in Berlin. The record introduces new elements into his sound: voice, effects, and treatments never before used in his discography. These experiments serve not as departures but as further extensions of his ongoing exploration of rhythm, resonance, and transformation. The album opens with Zendegi (“Life”), a piece inspired by the chant “Woman, Life, Freedom.” Mortazavi broke down its underlying rhythm and used it to build a new compositional structure, offered as a gesture to his homeland and beyond. Nexus refers to a point of connection or intersection, a meeting place where different energies, times, and spaces converge and transform.

Backwoodz Studioz is excited to announce the release of Crayola Circles, a collaboration between rapper Fatboi Sharif and producer Child Actor. While both artists have long standing connections to Backwoodz, this album marks their first collaboration of any kind and breaks new artistic ground for all parties.


Sharif’s previous album, Decay, released on Backwoodz in 2023, was a haunting experimental rap masterpiece, an acid trip in a mental hospital. On Crayola Circles Sharif trades menacing psychedelia for a simmering stew of blacklight expressionism, his verses slipping effortlessly through the swells and tides of Child Actor’s masterful production. No matter how uneasy the waves grow, Sharif is at ease, a truth teller whispering anti-riddles in your ear. This album feels like a new chamber for Child Actor, as well. The producer has been on an impressive run since dropping CINE- a collaboration with rapper Cavalier- on Backwoodz in late 2024. Child Actor has shown up in the liner notes of everyone from Navy Blue (The Sword & The Soaring) to Earl Sweatshirt (Live, Laugh, Love) to ELUCID (Revelator) to Open Mike Eagle (Neighborhood Gods Unlimited), to Ghais Guevara (A Quest to Self-Mythologize), amongst others. On Crayola Circles Child Actor’s production is dynamic, shifting and sliding into new phases and movements in an instant. The beats are full and knotty, leaning into jazz and folk, while remaining tethered to the tender minimalism that is his signature. It’s a difficult balance for any producer, and here it is executed perfectly, placing us in a world of wood and brass, cowhide and undersea piano. On any other record, this soundscape would steal the show — and it very nearly does — but Sharif’s command never wavers, ever in control; a lucid dreamer in an induced coma.
There are no guests, no skits, and no interludes. There might not even be songs, instead Crayola Circles seems akin to a great river; singular, traversing forest and jungle, mountain and valley, running from mouth to endless sea.

Freaky Chakra hails from San Francisco and is a local legend with a vast discography that has roots back in the early 90s and fetches mad prices on second-hand markets. This is a new one from him that shows off his take on tech, starting with 'Discotechno' which is a bubbly number with rubbery bass and aquatic synth globules. 'Foreign Element' is a heavy dubby stomper with a fat-ass groove and 'Space Jam' then takes off with more cosmic synth smears and delicate motifs drifting above a more muffled rhythm. 'Backflash' shuts down with a wonky back and forth and more late-night grit. A fresh sound from this venerated veteran.

Early Days (2016-2019) is a new collection of previously unreleased songs from Mauri Tapia a.k.a Los Retros. From a young age, Tapia has been a prolific songwriter, spending his teenage years writing and recording song after song. Influenced by soft rock and left-field South American pop, Early Days (2016-2019) captures the sound of this formative era Streaming everywhere today, Early Days consisting of 15 tracks, recorded from Mauri's parents' living room using nothing more than an old four-track recorder, that only existed in low quality online, now mastered, sequenced, and physically released for the first time. It was during these sessions that Los Retros created the song "Someone to Spend Time With", now certified Gold. Early Days comes with a companion visual for "Without You", edited by close friend and collaborator Ross Harris from found footage of early Los Retros tour stops. Check out Los Retros proper debut "Odisea" released simultaneously too. FFO soul, bedroom pop, indie, modern jazz, downtempo, soft rock, Mac DeMarco, Thee Sacred Souls, Skinshape, Men I Trust, Too Slow To Disco

Faitiche welcomes a new artist: Christina Kubisch belongs to the first generation of sound artists. Her practice ranges from performances, concerts, to works with video and visual art, but she is best known for her sound installations and electro-acoustic compositions.

TUNING brings together three pieces by Christina Kubisch from different periods of her oeuvre. What they have in common is the way they transform sound phenomena originally considered “non-music” into compositions.

Jan Jelinek: Gaming in Silence (2024) is the most recent work on this compilation. It’s a collage of electromagnetic waves, voice, and abstract sound textures. How did this combination come about?

Christina Kubisch: Gaming was commissioned as a fixed-media composition for the Sound Dome at ZKM Karlsruhe. Since Resonances: The Electromagnetic Bodies Project (2005), I’ve been making recordings in the old and new server rooms at the ZKM and in their permanent collection of historical computer games. Computer games like Asteroids (Atari, 1979) and Poly-Play (VEB Polytechnik, 1986) have specially generated analogue electromagnetic waves that interest me in particular on account of their density, rhythms and textures. I originally studied painting and to me the work of composition often feels like painting an abstract picture. I alter my source material as little as possible, layering and overlapping until a distinctive sound space emerges. In recent pieces, I sometimes combine magnetic waves with field recordings or live instruments. In Gaming it’s my recording of a Chinese song about silence.

JJ: Two persons walking through a street in Madrid (2004) is a recording from your Electrical Walks series. Here we should give a brief explanation of one of your best known works: participants in an Electrical Walk move through public spaces wearing prepared headphones that allow them to receive electromagnetic waves from their surroundings – for example from security gates, ATMs or neon signs. They discover a situation that normally is inaudible to the human ear and they can actively shape it by choreographing their movements. I really admire this piece, not least because there’s no clear dividing line between participants and artist. What exactly do we hear in Two persons walking through a street in Madrid (2004)?

CK: With this early work, I wanted to understand what is heard by people participating in an Electrical Walk in the same place but moving in different ways. The Spanish composer Miguel Alvarez-Fernàndez and I set off from opposite ends of a major shopping street in Madrid, met briefly in the middle, and then continued to the end. We both recorded our walks and I then layered them over one another. You might call it a work of electromagnetic conceptualism.

JJ: Diapason (2009 version) is an installation that plays a composition based on sounds from fifteen tuning forks. This setting is audible in the recording: there’s no dramatic arc, no beginning or end – instead, it recalls a piece of aleatoric music focussing on the decay phase. How did you come to make this work and could you tell us something about your compositional method?

CK: Diapason is part of a series of three pieces that deal with “non-instruments” or instruments that no longer exist: electrical mine bells used to send signals to the workers underground; a historical glass harmonica originally used for medicinal purposes; and tuning forks that were used by doctors to test people’s hearing. All of these methods are no longer in use. The sound of the tuning forks, audible only if held close to the ear, was recorded at the electronic studio at Berlin’s Technical University in such a way that even their decay remained audible. The frequencies range between 64 and 2048 Hertz and they can be adjusted at micro-intervals using small movable weights. The sequence and the duration of the pauses are dictated by chance and were not defined in advance. The 2009 version was created for an installation in the historic Holy Cross Church (Korskirken) in Bergen. Visitors could enter and leave the space at any time, deciding for themselves where and for how long they wished to listen to the sounds played back over an array of small loudspeakers placed on the floor of the apse.

Credits:

Gaming in Silence: commission of the ZKM/Hertzlab, Karlsruhe 2023
elektronic sound processing: Tom Thiel
sound engineering and mixing: Eckehard Güther

Diapason: produced at Elektronisches Studio of TU Berlin
rearrangement: Eckehard Güther

Christina Kubisch, published by Edition Christina Kubisch / Random Musick Publishing

image front: Transitionen 2021 by C. Kubisch, sonagrams of electronic waves (courtesy: Galerie Mazzoli Berlin)
image back: Diapason Tuning Fork, property of Folkmar Hein, Photo: Archiv Christina Kubisch

design by Tim Tetzner
mastered by Giuseppe Ielasi
Thanks to Miguel Álvarez-Fernández, Folkmar Hein, Dominik Kautz and Mario Mazzoli

Ghetto Records was Latin music legend Joe Bataan’s way to get over on The Man and out of the ’hood, a bold move by an artist looking for independence and creative control in an industry that had exploited his talents and treated him like chattel.



As Bataan puts it today, “Ghetto Records was part of my journey, a stepping stone to everything else that I’ve done. I learned enough that it enabled me to get out of the box with my thinking, it showed me how to deal with adversity.” Like many dreams and schemes born of the street, this one was audacious, perhaps even reckless to a fault.

Hatched from desperation yet full of hope Ghetto Records came crashing down shortly after its inception. The seven albums in its discography languished out of print - until now.

Grounded in a season of life that has been earned rather than borrowed, Benjamin Tod speaks with the ease of someone no longer running from himself. There is joy now - a steadiness that comes from commitment. With the recent arrival of his son and a deep well of new music on the horizon, Tod is firmly rooted in both purpose and possibility. That clarity is evident in Vengeance and Grace, the Lost Dog Street Band frontman's forthcoming and most expansive solo album to date. Conceived as a "dual-version" release, the project presents two parallel worlds: (Alone) is a stripped solo-acoustic version, along with its full band counterpart.

Together, the two versions form the full range of what Tod is capable of: restraint on one side, force on the other. At the core of Tod's writing is a simple conviction: music should serve something larger than the moment. His writing speaks to mind, body, and soul, shaped by faith, discipline, and a hard-earned understanding of consequence. The darkness that once defined him is neither denied nor indulged. It is understood and no longer in control. Today, Tod moves with a sense of calm that wasn't always there. He is grateful, settled, and intentional, continuing to follow the compass that's guided him from the beginning. Rooted in traditional country and folk, his work stands firmly in the modern music landscape, shaped by experience, restraint, and the life he's built around it.

Carve is the second full-length by Bay Area artist Kathryn Mohr. Written over the course of five years and recorded over several weeks in a rural singlewide in the Mojave Desert, the album centers on love experienced as a form of grief, not as an aftermath of loss, but as a condition of intimacy itself.

Mohr describes Carve as an album about how memory exists outside the body, embedded in places and landscapes. It is shaped by her first return to the American Southwest since a childhood road trip at age five, and by the experience of moving through terrain that holds emotional weight long after its origins fade. The record considers how intimacy feels after years of isolation, and what it takes to carve out a life that allows for trust, presence, and feeling rather than mere survival. The project took form after a difficult tour that ended in Joshua Tree. Mohr pointed her car into the desert and drove alone, crisscrossing the Mojave on dirt roads. Months later, she returned to record the album, working alone with an acoustic guitar, a field recorder, and limited supplies. Following that period, Mohr began to allow for intimacy and connection. The time she spent recording Carve in the desert did not create isolation so much as mirror it. Working alone out of an old, western-themed jail Airbnb, the physical enclosure reflected the emotional conditions under which much of the record had been written: distance, restraint, and long stretches of stillness. In that context, love was not experienced as escape, but as something inseparable from impermanence and the awareness of loss.

This tension between connection and inevitability sits at the center of Carve. Some of the album’s songs were written earlier, during a prolonged period marked by emotional distance and apathy. Over those four years, Mohr was working through unprocessed childhood memories and their long-term effects on her ability to connect with others. The work was slow and difficult, involving a fundamental reshaping of how she related to herself and to the world. Carve was mixed by Richard Chowenhill of Flenser labelmates Agriculture. Rather than offering resolution, the album documents the act of remaining present within tension. Carve is not about escaping grief, but about accepting it as inseparable from love itself. Kathryn Mohr’s previous effort “Waiting Room” received the coveted ‘Best New Music' designation and a score of 8.4 from Pitchfork.

Carve is the second full-length by Bay Area artist Kathryn Mohr. Written over the course of five years and recorded over several weeks in a rural singlewide in the Mojave Desert, the album centers on love experienced as a form of grief, not as an aftermath of loss, but as a condition of intimacy itself.

Mohr describes Carve as an album about how memory exists outside the body, embedded in places and landscapes. It is shaped by her first return to the American Southwest since a childhood road trip at age five, and by the experience of moving through terrain that holds emotional weight long after its origins fade. The record considers how intimacy feels after years of isolation, and what it takes to carve out a life that allows for trust, presence, and feeling rather than mere survival. The project took form after a difficult tour that ended in Joshua Tree. Mohr pointed her car into the desert and drove alone, crisscrossing the Mojave on dirt roads. Months later, she returned to record the album, working alone with an acoustic guitar, a field recorder, and limited supplies. Following that period, Mohr began to allow for intimacy and connection. The time she spent recording Carve in the desert did not create isolation so much as mirror it. Working alone out of an old, western-themed jail Airbnb, the physical enclosure reflected the emotional conditions under which much of the record had been written: distance, restraint, and long stretches of stillness. In that context, love was not experienced as escape, but as something inseparable from impermanence and the awareness of loss.

This tension between connection and inevitability sits at the center of Carve. Some of the album’s songs were written earlier, during a prolonged period marked by emotional distance and apathy. Over those four years, Mohr was working through unprocessed childhood memories and their long-term effects on her ability to connect with others. The work was slow and difficult, involving a fundamental reshaping of how she related to herself and to the world. Carve was mixed by Richard Chowenhill of Flenser labelmates Agriculture. Rather than offering resolution, the album documents the act of remaining present within tension. Carve is not about escaping grief, but about accepting it as inseparable from love itself. Kathryn Mohr’s previous effort “Waiting Room” received the coveted ‘Best New Music' designation and a score of 8.4 from Pitchfork.

Carve is the second full-length by Bay Area artist Kathryn Mohr. Written over the course of five years and recorded over several weeks in a rural singlewide in the Mojave Desert, the album centers on love experienced as a form of grief, not as an aftermath of loss, but as a condition of intimacy itself.

Mohr describes Carve as an album about how memory exists outside the body, embedded in places and landscapes. It is shaped by her first return to the American Southwest since a childhood road trip at age five, and by the experience of moving through terrain that holds emotional weight long after its origins fade. The record considers how intimacy feels after years of isolation, and what it takes to carve out a life that allows for trust, presence, and feeling rather than mere survival. The project took form after a difficult tour that ended in Joshua Tree. Mohr pointed her car into the desert and drove alone, crisscrossing the Mojave on dirt roads. Months later, she returned to record the album, working alone with an acoustic guitar, a field recorder, and limited supplies. Following that period, Mohr began to allow for intimacy and connection. The time she spent recording Carve in the desert did not create isolation so much as mirror it. Working alone out of an old, western-themed jail Airbnb, the physical enclosure reflected the emotional conditions under which much of the record had been written: distance, restraint, and long stretches of stillness. In that context, love was not experienced as escape, but as something inseparable from impermanence and the awareness of loss.

This tension between connection and inevitability sits at the center of Carve. Some of the album’s songs were written earlier, during a prolonged period marked by emotional distance and apathy. Over those four years, Mohr was working through unprocessed childhood memories and their long-term effects on her ability to connect with others. The work was slow and difficult, involving a fundamental reshaping of how she related to herself and to the world. Carve was mixed by Richard Chowenhill of Flenser labelmates Agriculture. Rather than offering resolution, the album documents the act of remaining present within tension. Carve is not about escaping grief, but about accepting it as inseparable from love itself. Kathryn Mohr’s previous effort “Waiting Room” received the coveted ‘Best New Music' designation and a score of 8.4 from Pitchfork.

A guitar stands alone in Wedding, that metropolitan biotope in the western center of Berlin, caught in constant transformation between idyll and abyss. It lets its gaze wander, unsettled, almost shy, until it encounters a trumpet, with which it begins a cautious, then ever more intimate pas de deux.
Welcome to the second studio album by the Berlin-based band Conic Rose.
The album title Wedding is no coincidence. The story of Conic Rose is closely intertwined with the Berlin neighborhood that gives the record its name. The band's studio is located here, and both studio albums were created in the immediate vicinity of the small river Panke. This place settles over the music like a warming patina. The album feels as though the musicians and the neighborhood have invited one another to get to know each other. Not least because Wedding also means marriage. These marriages between a band and an urban landscape, a fading past and an emerging future, fear and hope - unfold in every single song on Wedding.
For their second album, Conic Rose repositioned themselves completely. Not in terms of personnel, but in the question of how to move forward. Conic Rose still sound like Conic Rose; their distinctive blend of cinematic jazz, ambient textures and guitar-led contemporary music remains untouched. And yet Wedding is, in many ways, the conceptual counterpart to their debut album Heller Tag. Where the debut documented movement within an urban setting, Wedding describes a state of being. Behind every piece seems to hover a large question mark.The group opens up its palette, allowing more influences, becoming at once more subtle, more profound, more filigree. It is less about definition than about the spaces in between. The most immediately striking difference from the previous album is the strong presence of the guitar. In Bertram Burkert's playing, many voices seem to converge. His yearning openness forms an equal counterpoint to Döben's trumpet and flugelhorn. Blurred and layered sounds occasionally make the ground seem to slip away beneath one's feet, while Döben's gliding lines create both closeness and distance. Together, the band express in a deeply subtle way a sense of life that corresponds precisely to our time. Something lurks in the background, omnipresent yet still unnameable. Conic Rose need no words to convey this feeling of uncertainty with remarkable eloquence. Perhaps this has something to do with Wedding being a place of confrontational introspection, but Conic Rose confront the escape from escape itself. With the recording and release of Wedding, this process is far from complete. The seed only begins to grow in the listener's ear. With every listen and the echo it leaves behind in memory, the studio bud continues to bloom. The album is merely the point of departure. What ultimately matters is what it sets in motion within those who encounter it.

A magus is a wizard…a sorcerer. Magus, the band, is certainly interested in such things (who isn’t), but the name is especially apt due to the band’s approach to alchemy, the blending of rock, gothic, proto metal, and psychedelic styles to create a sound that is, ultimately, unique. Part of that uniqueness comes from the instrumentation. While guitar is often a dominant instrument of the rock oeuvre, the Fender Rhodes generally plays a supportive role. Not so here, where Jessica Weeks’ deft use of the keyboard dovetails with Greg Weeks’ more standard six-string approach. Not standard is the band’s sound. Doomy yet inspirational, dour yet vibrant, the duo’s tunes map sinister realms whose subjects span metaphysical creatures to enigmatic portals. You know, the typical stuff that rubs elbows with a magus.

Formed in late 2024, Magus sprung from a desire by both artists to experiment with darker, heavier sounds. Long enamored of artists like Flower Travelling Band,, Black Sabbath, and Deep Purple, the duo delved deeply into trance like riffs and euphoric solos to create the backbone of what has become their debut album, Music for Mandrax. This thirteenth Language of Stone offering features grounded, metronomic grooves, organic, lugubrious synth lines, and tandem vocals (supplied by both Weekses) that, in total, weave a heavy, trancelike spell sure to entice fans of bands as disparate as Sabbath is to Pink Floyd. Recorded at Weeks’ Hexham Head studio (to analog tape, of course), the band enlisted long-time counterparts Jesse Sparhawk (bass) and Ben McConnell (drums) to round out their sound and lock down the grooves that propel the album.

Mixed by Brian McTear and Amy Morrisey at Miner Street in Philadelphia, the band’s fully realized vision came to fruition, which left only the album art to contemplate. The band, wishing to further the gothic aesthetic of their sound, enlisted fashion designer and artist extraordinaire Hogan McLaughlin (Game of Thrones) to create the starkly beautiful line drawings of the front and back covers. The duo travelled to Salem, MA to complete the package with Courtney Brooke Hall, who shot the moody and evocative photographs that grace the gatefold release’s inner panels.

`Freak Puke' (2012) saw Melvins Lite_featuring Buzz Osborne, Dale Crover, and upright-bass virtuoso Trevor Dunn_offering a leaner, more nimble twist on the band's heavy-rock sound. The use of acoustic bass lends an elastic, jazz-tinged punch to otherwise sludgy riffs, while the songwriting remains both off-kilter and surprisingly tuneful, further proving the group's capacity for reinvention.

Pulitzer Prize-winning American composer John Luther Adams wrote this piece for the Australian Chamber Orchestra. Inspired by his recent relocation to Australia and his travels across the continent - from the Northern Territory and the Red Centre all the way to Tasmania - 'Horizon' is an immersive audio experience exploring the relationship between the visible horizon, with its trees, its mountains and its human structures, and the true horizon: the enveloping circle where the sky meets the earth. How long might it take us to traverse that distance, from where we are to as far as we can see? And what lies beyond that edge of the known? The Australian Chamber Orchestra brings its passion, its virtuosity and its vibrant energy to this exquisitely unique musical experience.

Originally released in 2001, Up The Country is the debut album by The Sixth Great Lake and a quietly revered title within the late-'90s / early-2000s indie scene. Rooted in jangly guitars, melodic songwriting, and a distinctly pastoral sensibility, the album sits at the intersection of indie pop, folk-rock, and classic guitar-driven pop. Although initially released with modest exposure, Up The Country steadily developed a loyal following, earning cult status among fans of understated, melody-focused indie. Its charm lies in its simplicity: clean arrangements, memorable hooks, and an unforced warmth that has allowed the record to age exceptionally well over the past 25 years. This 25th anniversary reissue presents an opportunity to reintroduce an overlooked catalogue gem to today's market, appealing both to original fans and to a new audience drawn to timeless, guitar-led indie records. With renewed interest in archival and heritage releases, Up The Country offers strong long-term catalogue potential beyond initial anniversary demand. A timeless, understated record with strong appeal for fans of melodic, guitar-driven indie.

Originally released in 2001, Once is the debut album by The Tyde and a quietly influential title from the late-'90s / early-2000s West Coast indie pop scene. Rooted in warm melodic guitars, subtle psychedelic textures, and introspective songwriting, the album occupies a distinctive space between indie pop, folk-rock, and California psychedelia. While never a mainstream release, Once steadily built a loyal following over the years, earning its reputation as a cult classic among fans and collectors. Its understated production, emotional restraint, and timeless melodies have allowed the album to age exceptionally well, making it as relevant today as it was upon release. This 25th anniversary reissue offers a strong opportunity to reintroduce an overlooked catalogue gem to both established fans and new listeners. With the continued demand for high-quality reissues and historically important indie titles, Once fits perfectly within current collector and indie-focused retail trends. The album's enduring appeal, combined with the anniversary context, gives it solid long-term catalogue value beyond initial release interest.

April Records proudly presents the new album from Danish trombonist and composer Lis Wessberg. Her most personal album to date, In The Wake of Blue is a song-driven work exploring transience, love, and transformation. Expanding her writing while remaining rooted in her distinctive instrumental voice, Wessberg creates an intimate musical landscape where lyric, melody, and texture carry equal weight. Wessberg has established herself as a leading voice on the European jazz scene through her band Yellow Map and a series of acclaimed releases on April Records. Her previous album, Twain Walking (2024), marked her first step into English-language songwriting and earned a Danish Music Award nomination in 2025 for the track Behind the Walls. In The Wake of Blue develops this direction further. The album draws on images from nature - sea, tides, clouds, mist, and birds - used as emotional anchors rather than abstractions. These elements frame songs that move from uncertainty and loss toward openness, connection, and renewal. The title reflects this arc: "blue" as melancholy, depth, and memory, and what emerges in its wake. Vocalist Veronika Rud is central to the album"s sound, bringing vulnerability and clarity to the songs. Rather than a traditional singer-led project, the music unfolds as a dialogue between voice and trombone, with Wessberg"s warm, airy tone mirroring and extending each song"s emotional core. At times the two move in close unison; elsewhere, they diverge and reconnect. The core ensemble - Steen Rasmussen (piano and keys), Lennart Ginman (bass), and Jeppe Gram (drums) - provides a responsive, understated foundation, while string quartet Live Strings appear on two tracks, expanding the ensemble"s depth and resonce. In The Wake of Blue offers a quietly assured statement from an artist continuing to refine a voice that speaks as clearly through brass as it does through words.

Metaphon is pleased to present this première edition, which brings together a near-complete collection of the acousmatic works of Liliane Donskoy, recorded in the 1970s and 1980s.

Liliane Donskoy (*1933) is a French, classically trained pianist, music teacher, and composer of both instrumental and acousmatic music. She began her musical training at an early age, undertaking private piano studies with Yves Nat at the age of thirteen, shortly after the Second World War. During the 1960s and 1970s, she pursued advanced studies with prominent figures of twentieth-century music, including Darius Milhaud, Olivier Messiaen, Pierre Schaeffer, and Guy Reibel, and participated in courses led by Karlheinz Stockhausen, Luciano Berio, György Ligeti, and Iannis Xenakis.

Despite this extensive and diverse training, Donskoy encountered limited institutional and professional opportunities to fully realize her artistic vision. A decisive turning point occurred in 1977, when she gained access to the facilities of the Institute of Psychoacoustics and Electronic Music (IPEM) in Ghent. There, she realized and completed the majority of her acousmatic compositions.

Donskoy’s oeuvre is characterized by a high degree of structural complexity, precision, and expressive intensity. Her work reflects a pronounced and distinctive artistic temperament, manifested through a rigorous exploration of sound material and form. Notwithstanding its artistic significance, her music has remained largely unknown, as her compositions were neither widely circulated nor formally released, leading to their relative obscurity until the present publication.