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The seeds of composer Rafael Anton Irisarri’s latest LP were first planted during his 2016 tour in Italy, months before that Autumn’s unexpected presidential election. The linguistic glitch of an innocuous diner in Milan named “il Mito Americano” – meant as “The American Dream” but translated literally to English as “The American Myth” – sparked a series of ideas, both conceptual and musical.

Amid the chaos of 2020, while exploring the stark world of brutalist architecture and inspired by the false fronts of Potemkin villages, a vision started to take shape: FAÇADISMS. Composed over three years, it’s a late capitalist lament of simmering electric despondency.

Irisarri’s obsession with repeating motifs mirrors the cyclical nature of our tumultuous political history. The album’s eight tracks heave and storm like a tempest being drained of its rage. This is the sound of majestic dissipation, of morning afters, fashioned from a mournful haze with cavernous guitars and granular twilight. A euphony of a receding tide as one sifts through the remnants of what remains: dust, delusion, and memory.

Opening with the somber gauze of “Broken Intensification," FAÇADISMS moves fluidly between moments of absence and abandon. Ashen swaths of electronics billow above smoldering embers of melody, guitar, and scattered streaks of processed strings and voice, as on the rapturous doom of “Control Your Soul's Desire for Freedom,” featuring Julia Kent on cello and Hannah Elizabeth Cox on vocals. "The impoverished peoples of the Americas have known all along that 'freedom' is a cruel illusion crafted by the elites, akin to Potemkin's fake villages designed to impress Catherine the Great," Irisarri indicates. "FAÇADISMS illustrates a twisted inversion where the rulers deceive their subjects with illusions of safety, democracy, and free speech to create a grotesque mirage of control over their own lives.”

Elsewhere, Irisarri leans into passages of hushed oblivion (“Hollow,” “Dispersion of Belief”), while ragged drones rumble and disintegrate into wind-battered ambient wreckage. One has the sense that it’s all too late. The hour of fury has passed. The beauty has come and gone. Irisarri’s muse has become the crack in the façade of the unraveling myth.

The record closes with a climax of grand departure. Co-written with Kenyan sound artist KMRU, “Red Moon Tide” surges from flickering elegy to celestial disquiet, roiling waves of hymnal descent, and bristling noise. The effect is unsettling and unmooring: a soundtrack for the soul leaving the body, only to discover a void. It’s the sound of the center not holding, of shared illusions being dissolved in a tunnel of white light.

The cover photograph captures a profound sense of desolation. Taken in the historic shanty town of La Perla, Puerto Rico, where Irisarri spent his childhood, brutal colonial mysteries are lost to time. A skeletal concrete structure decays against an expansive blue horizon. Only the shadow of its shell ripples on the empty sea.

Has the American myth finally run its course?

The debut recording from the duo of multi-award-winning Scottish author David Keenan and Bruce Russell, the guitarist from the greatest underground rock band of the late 20th century, New Zealand’s The Dead C, was recorded live in Christchurch, NZ, as part of the WORD festival in August 2023. A series of live improvised settings that pair readings from Keenan’s monolithic and critically-acclaimed modernist masterpiece, Monument Maker (White Rabbit 2021), with guitar and electronics from Russell, the music takes off on the kind of post-VU fantasy of punk-primitive free music posited by Russell in projects like A Handful of Dust while expanding on Russell’s no-technique blues w/scalpel sharp riffs and aformal blats of pure electricity that match the religious eroto-mania of the text. Keenan reads w/shamanistic intensity and with a sonorous, incantatory rhythm, while Russell conjures the very ghost of the book straight out of the air. Think the early Patti Smith/Lenny Kaye spoken word/guitar jams informed by religious painting, Bach cantatas, Pierre Reverdy, Goya, Charles Olson, Arthur Doyle and Rudolph Grey. Features full colour photography by musician and artist Heather Leigh taken in-situ during the writing of Monument Maker in France in 2018. Bruce Russell is a practitioner in sound, who for forty years has been a member of The Dead C and A Handful of Dust. He mixes rock, electro-acoustics, noise and improvisation in equal measures. Also directed two of New Zealand’s vanguard independent labels, Xpressway and Corpus Hermeticum. His solo guitar practice reconfigures the blues as a form of improvisational auto-destruction. He is also a writer and his next book is titled ‘Rock’n’roll: my part in its downfall’. David Keenan is the author of six novels; This is Memorial Device (Faber & Faber) which won the London Magazine Prize for Debut Fiction and was shortlisted for the Gordon Burn Prize; For the Good Times (Faber & Faber), which won the Gordon Burn Prize and was shortlisted for the Encore Award for Second Novels; Xstabeth (White Rabbit), which was shortlisted for the Dublin Literary Prize; The Towers The Fields The Transmitters (White Rabbit); Monument Maker (White Rabbit), which was a Rough Trade Book of the Year; and Industry of Magic & Light (White Rabbit). Edna O’Brien has said of him “I sometimes think David Keenan dreams aloud. His prose has the effortless, enigmatic, unsettling quality of dreams… reading him feels like being cut open to the accompanying sound of ecstatic music.”

Forgetting You Is Like Breathing Water, the self-titled debut from the duo of trumpeter Will Evans and guitarist, synthesist, producer and multi-instrumentalist Theo Trump, arrives like a vault revelation. It feels like a decades-old yet newly unearthed masterwork of gorgeous ambient improvisation, the sort of thing scholars live to research and shepherd into deluxe reissue.

The patient, crystalline chords that swell and resonate like a series of confessions; the textured brass murmurs that suggest a ’60s or ’70s Fire Music master at their most poignant. Provocative found-sound experiments threading arcane religious recordings through dystopian soundscapes. Ear-shattering free-noise tumult. Where and when did this music come from? Who are these voices?

As it turns out, Forgetting You Is Like Breathing Water springs from an engrossing human story, though it isn’t necessarily the one you’d expect. This work of stunning maturity is in fact an entrance by two little-known explorers in their early 20s, who grew up together in Virginia, in the shadow of the Blue Ridge Mountains. It documents one of those perfect, sparkling moments in post-adolescence when big decisions and responsibilities are right around the corner, but for a spell, two young artists are able to create among the comforts and nostalgia of their shared past.

It also represents a reunion of sorts, as Evans and Trump connected as toddlers, became inseparable as boys, then pursued independent lives and creative paths as young adults. “Theo is my oldest friend,” Evans says, “and I feel like that’s what this band is — us meeting right in the middle of our interests.”

Now, having conjured this magic, they’ve detached once again: Evans, whose other works include the indie/avant-jazz unit Angelica X, is currently based in New York City. Trump recently moved to England, where he’d participated in his family’s theatre company, to go to school and further his solo ambient project. “This album didn’t start out as something super ambitious,” Evans explains. “It was more just an excuse to spend time together again and make music.”

***

In conversation, Evans and Trump are a delight, especially for cynics who might think that Gen-Z is only capable of doomscrolling. They come across as kindly young intellectuals who grew up using the internet as it was intended, for exposure to ideas and art across genres and generations. Trump points to indie-folk and the oracular post-rock of late Talk Talk, Bark Psychosis and Gastr del Sol. Pressed for his guitar heroes, he cites Bill Orcutt, Mary Halvorson and Marc Ribot, and mentions his devotion to alt-country. Heyday electro-industrial stuff like Skinny Puppy and Nine Inch Nails also meant a lot to him.

Evans is equally intrepid, though his background has a greater jazz focus. Ambrose Akinmusire, among today’s most thoughtfully commanding trumpeters, is a favorite. As for the soulful murmur he offers throughout Forgetting You, Pharoah Sanders’ wistful and lyrical contributions to Floating Points’ work is a touchstone.

The two grew up down the street from each other in the northern Piedmont town of Batesville, Virginia. Their families were friends, holidays were celebrated together and they became the most loyal of pals. As children they had a pretend band.

Then life unfolded, they attended different schools and their paths diverged. Evans discovered John Coltrane and became a jazz obsessive, as Trump found punk and hardcore and later began making ambient music. As a dedicated jazz trumpeter, Evans studied formally and widely; Trump was an autodidact, teaching himself guitar and absorbing synthesis and production techniques. The late teens and very early 20s brought moves away from home and back to home, as well as plenty of listening and learning. The Covid pandemic meant an opportunity to reconnect on long walks. Through it all, together and apart, they remained reverent of each other.

By early 2023, they found themselves living again among the Blue Ridge Mountains. In the evening, after giving trumpet lessons in Charlottesville, Evans would make the eerily beautiful trek “over the mountain” to Trump’s home in Staunton, Virginia. They’d talk and eat and begin to improvise, deep into the night. Evans played trumpet and sometimes drums. (Given the wee-hours recording schedule, the neighbors didn’t appreciate the latter.) Trump plugged a rickety, junk-store Telecaster-style guitar into a cheap solid-state amp and explored open tunings; he also layered on lap steel, electric bass, synths and electronics.

They locked in and relished each other’s gifts. In Trump, those include patience and intentionality and sonic decision-making; for Evans, a distinctive trumpet sound that both musicians think of as a singer’s voice. “Will’s playing is so thoughtful and well placed,” Trump says. “My goal from a producer’s mindset is that the trumpet will occupy the space that vocals would take.”

Often, they got lost in the best way. “The thing I look for most when I’m playing is that feeling of disappearing into what you’re doing,” Evans says. “Usually when that happens, the music is good.”

By the same token, they didn’t pursue free improvisation as an ethic, or as a pure process. Their goal was something closer to spontaneous composition. “We were trying to make good songs,” Evans says simply. Later, Trump did brilliant post-production work, expanding a modest setup into an enthralling soundworld. Under his judicious editorship, music that was wholly improvised sounds at times like a carefully composed new-music commission.

The results speak for themselves. “A Happy Death” summons up a swath of American desolation through the viewfinder of Wim Wenders. “Flesh of Lost Summers” and “Partings” are highlights from an essential ECM LP that never was. “A Collapse of Horses” infuses those seminal post-rock influences with the plod of doom metal or slowcore. The album’s final track, “The Mountains Are a Dream That Calls to Me,” was in fact the first thing the duo recorded, as an evocation of those twilit drives across the Blue Ridge Mountains. “Looking back at what we chose to name the songs,” Evans says, “and some of the sounds and how they make me feel, there is an air of impermanence and loss to this album.”

“I’m excited for everything that’s to come,” he adds, “but I recently thought, ‘Damn — that’s not going to happen again.’ It was a privilege for us to have that time together.”

Perhaps best described as a pioneer of the underground experimental scene, the signature of Jørgen Teller on the musical landscape of Denmark traces back to the late 1970’s. Sprung out of a whirlpool of post-punk and art school ideas, Teller has relentlessly been chiseling away on the constrictions of music in various bands, collaborations and solo projects ever since. Searching out its farthest outposts - be it free jazz, noise or acousmatic music - Teller has strived towards an approach to music without rules, often by way of improvisation and usually with the aid of electric guitar.

This album is based on a live performance held at the Inter Arts Center in Malmö in early 2022, where Teller performed a semi-improvised piece in homage to the poet Poul Borum, whom he had worked with in the mid-90’s closely before Borum’s death in 1996.

As a composer, Teller relies on a set of “basic choices” that becomes a “precise point of departure” - where he can then go against his “good knowing” of the science, trends and different schools of music and go straight into his own instincts as a performer. For this performance, he used pre- recorded material of three rhythm boxes (all out of sync), timbales and sessions on Erica synths.

In dialogue with the label, Teller has focused on extracting the recording of the rhythm boxes and timbales alone, emphasizing the tension between the rhythms. With minimalist drum sequences that could easily be placed in a proto-techno context, and the whooshing of what might be an ancient rhombus instrument, there is a feeling of a primitive presence to Teller’s rhythmic excursions. A throwback to the spiritual realms of a wordless society fighting the demons of chance.

Occasionally pierced by stark industrial drum crashes and rattling post-punk percussion, it also conjures echoes from the darker side of the 1980s. In citing Borum as its inspiration, Teller shares that he channels the poet’s energy and their shared love of “noisy stuff and darkness”.
But the pace can also go somewhere close to breakbeat on track B2, where a whirlwind of rhythmic elements clash into a deranged deconstructed club tune.

The album also features a remix by a fellow colleague of the acousmatic community; the composer Jacob Riis. On the closing track B3, Riis quietly manipulates and balances the elements of Teller’s recordings and gently releases them into a contemplative pool of static.

If there's one musician in the last decade that you may hear in wildly diverse musical contexts it is Belgian electric bassist and sound sculptor Farida Amadou. Not only can you enjoy the unerringly skillful command she has over her instrument but also the transformative power to reinterpret and expand her material in spontaneous and unconventional ways.

Amadou is self-taught and radically aware of her idiosyncratic relationship with the bass guitar. She neither emulates the virtuosos of the electric bass, nor does she use the instrument as a pure sound generator that merely emits humming and feedback. She takes a completely independent and unique approach. This freedom enables her to create an overwhelming wall of sound, as well as simple, clear structures that are rhythmically concise yielding a wide associative space that lands somewhere between free jazz and noise.

Her work is often concentrated and circular where motifs are established and developed outward. It is an organic sound in the literal sense of the word, constantly in motion, yet resting in itself. The three solo pieces she has recorded for Week-End Records emphasize her impressive ability to ignite ecstasy from tranquility, to fan out a whole range of moods from a few potent ideas.

These attributes make her a musician who enriches every group she plays in, because she is present with her assured and crystallized sound but refrains from being domineering. However, her strengths are even more apparent when she plays solo: the contrasts between the dark, heavy clouds of sound and the rhythmic passages, and the transitions between movements which always sound "logical" yet surprising.

Her new solo album, "When It Rains It Pours" presents Amadou as an inspired improviser who follows her musical intuition and acumen to create a truly unique soundworld. Rarely has improvised music sounded so succinct and compelling.

Wenn es in den letzten zehn Jahren eine Musikerin gegeben hat, die man in den unterschiedlichsten musikalischen Kontexten immer wieder hören will: nicht weil sie eine passable Mitspielerin wäre, sondern weil sie diese Kontexte jedes Mal bereichert und auf spontane, unkonventionelle Weise erweitert, umdeutet, in neue transformiert, dann ist es die belgische E-Bassistin und Klangskulpteurin Farida Amadou.

Sie ist Autodidaktin - und sie versteht diese Selbstaneignung des Instruments radikal. Weder eifert sie den Virtuosen des E-Basses nach, noch verwendet sie das Instrument als reinen Klangerzeuger, der bloß Brummen und Feedbacks von sich gibt. Sie geht von einem völlig eigenständigen Ansatz aus. Der ermöglicht es ihr, eine überwältigende Wall of Sound zu kreieren genauso wie einfache, klare Strukturen, die rhythmisch prägnant sind und einen weiten Assoziationsraum zwischen Free Jazz und Noise eröffnen. 

Ihre Musik ist konzentriert, hat einen langen Atem, kreist um Motive, entwickelt daraus neue Linien, die Amadou im Spiel weiterverfolgt. Es ist ein im Wortsinne organischer Sound, ständig in Bewegung, dabei in sich ruhend. Die Stücke, die sie für Week-End Records aufgenommen hat, unterstreichen ihre beeindruckende Fähigkeit, aus der Ruhe die Ekstase zu entfachen, aus wenigen Ideen eine ganze Palette an Stimmungen aufzufächern.

Das macht sie zu einer Musikerin, die jede Gruppe, in der sie spielt, bereichert, weil sie präsent ist, ohne zu dominieren, weil ihr Sound so prägnant ist, ohne die anderen zu übertönen. Im Solo treten die Stärken ihres Spiels aber noch stärker hervor: die Kontraste zwischen zwischen dunklen, schweren Klangwolken und den rhythmischen Passagen, vor allem die Übergänge, die immer „logisch“ klingen, aber zunächst unerwartet kommen und ihren eigenen Weg einschlagen. Ihr neues Solo-Album, “When It Rains It Pours” zeigt sie als inspirierte Improvisatorin, die sich nie bloß ihren Einfällen hingibt, sondern die Ideen zu Ende denkt, oder besser: spielt. Selten klang improvisierte Musik so kompakt und zwingend.

Ltd Edition - 200 copies**

Canadian-currently-residing-in-Berlin and multi intstrumentalist Aidan Baker teamed up with Dutch demolition duo Dead Neanderthals late 2023 to work on the collaborative album entitled Cast Down and Hunted.

Cast Down and Hunted is an abstract affair. Angular and dark, droney and lush. Two lengthy tracks, Subterfuge and Paranoia, each fill one side of the LP, which will be released by the Dutch label Moving Furniture Records.
The artwork was made by Steven Kenny and the album layout was done by Rutger Zuydervelt (Machinefabriek).

The album was mixed and mastered by Marlon Wolterink at White Noise Studio.

ABOUT AIDEN BAKER
Aidan Baker is a classically-trained multi-instrumentalist focusing on the electric guitar as his primary instrument. Using prepared and alternate methods of playing the guitar, along with various electronic effects, Baker creates music which generally falls within the ambient/experimental genre but draws on influences from post-rock, shoegaze, electronica, neo-classical, and jazz.
A highly prolific artist, Baker has released numerous recorded works, both solo and with various group projects—most notably his dreamsludge duo, Nadja—and including collaborations with Tim Hecker, Carla Bozulich, Jussi Lehtisalo, and Andrea Belfi, among others—on such independent labels as Karlrecords, Gizeh Records, Important Records, and his own imprint, Broken Spine Productions. A frequent live performer, Baker has toured extensively around the world, including appearances at such international festivals as FIMAV, SXSW, Incubate, Unsound, Roadburn, and Mutek.
Originally from Toronto, Canada, Baker currently resides in Berlin, Germany.

ABOUT DEAD NEANDERTHALS
Dead Neanderthals have spent more than a decade putting together an eclectic and envious back catalogue that spans multiple genres – from free-jazz to grindcore to doom drone by way of psychedelia – and continuously throwing curve balls that defy expectations. You never know what you’ll get, but you know it’ll be heavy.


ABOUT MOVING FURNITURE RECORDS
Moving Furniture Records is a label based in Amsterdam, The Netherlands specialized in releasing experimental electronic music, run by Sietse van Erve, started in October 2008. We are mostly interested in drones, minimalist, microtonal and field-recordings music.
Moving Furniture Records has released music by both renowned, musicians such as Richard Chartier, BJNilsen, Jos Smolders, Gareth Davis & Merzbow and Machinefabriek, as (young) new talent such as Gagi Petrovic, Fani Konstantinidou, and Ryan van Haesendonck.
Aside from the regular releases Moving Furniture Records has two special series: Eliane Tapes: music inspired by and dedicated to the work of Éliane Radigue. Contemporary Series: contemporary music written for acoustic and electro-acoustic ensembles and solo artists.
Moving Furniture Records also organizes concerts in various venues in Amsterdam. For all our releases and more information

Typically, a band's big indie label debut doesn't come 15 albums into its career, but with Constant Smiles' Paragons, here we are. Primary songwriter and sole "constant" member Ben Jones_who considers Constant Smiles a collective_sees its impressive output as a way to document the group's evolution. Since its live debut as a noise duo on Ben's home of Martha's Vineyard in 2009, Constant Smiles has grown to include contributions from 50 other members, all of whom have personal connections to the group's extended family. And while the collective has indulged an array of musical whims along the way - including Ben's penchant for penning a new set's worth of material for each live performance - Constant Smiles' sound has tightened up considerably over their past couple of albums, in large part as a result of Ben's working relationship with Mike Mackey, who has become his main creative partner. This increased focus manifests on Paragons in the band's most cohesive batch of songs to date, ranging from shimmering psych-pop excursions to bittersweet, piano and string-accented strummers, and an execution that feels like a massive step forward for the band. Through its recent forays into dream pop and shoegaze (Control) and synth-pop (John Waters), Constant Smiles has learned how to incorporate its experimental inclinations more fluidly into the mix. Artists like Yo La Tengo, and the more recent Rat Columns, are good touchstones for Constant Smiles' musical approach - tethering to an indie-pop core while perennially mining genres, always finding new ways to intrigue listeners and pursue a unique vision. Paragons was produced and engineered by Ben Greenberg in the last two weeks of December 2020 at Gary's Electric, with additional recording done by Ben Jones at his home studio, The Void, and his Aunt Leanne's house. The album was mixed at Circular Ruin Studio and mastered by Josh Bonati. The band on Paragons consists of Jai Berger (who performed "Introduction"), Spike Currier (bass and synth), Matthew Addison (drums), Emma Conley (violin), Nicky Wetherell (cello), Adam Lipsky (piano), and Ben Greenberg (guitar and Mellotron).

The world of ENDON is one of constant evolution and revolution. The Tokyo-based ensemble of Taichi Nagura, Koki Miyabe, and Taro Aiko have made a name for themselves with their relentless exploration of sonic extremes in the vein of artists such as the Boredoms and Merzbow. The resulting music is a powerful emotional release for both artist and listener. Their commitment to evolution and dystopian noise as a playground for exploration and pure expression carried them through the recent departure of their drummer Shin Yokota and the tragic death of brother and band member Etsuo Nagura in 2020. Where some might have tried to replace members, ENDON"s core pressed forward with an autobiographical work exploring these changes and the shifts in their lives. Honest and raw emotions delivered with uncompromising sonic intensity, Fall of Spring is a thrilling tidal wave of sound and raw emotions born of the psyche of three individuals musically congregating into one tumultuous voice. Fall of Spring captures the electricity and unpredictability of ENDON"s live performances in vivid detail. The album harnesses the power of their storied performances through unpredictable movements, deft arrangements and an exhilarating textural palette. By imbuing their sound with raw feeling at every edge of obliteration, the trio are able to create what they call "organic music with inorganic material." For ENDON, those moments of suspense and surprise are the core of their music. As with their shows, Fall of Spring is a vessel for band and audience to share moments, to suspend time and move through grief and pain, and to bask in catharsis and resilience. ENDON continues to be a mercurial force in the world of extreme music.

Following a ten-part series of unannounced artist records and a spectacular high-concept album on Mask Records, label head ZentaSkai returns to the imprint for his next solo vinyl-only release, ‘Bob’.
The A1 sees the Berlin-based ZentaSkai combine a dusty, taped white noise feel with subtle, swirling dub chords as its high-end propels the track forward. It’s a stunning and evocative piece before the A2 continues with minimal drums and electric acid bleeps, a smooth organ lead completing its gorgeous soundscape.
On the B-side of the ‘Bob’ EP, ZentaSkai joins forces with long-time collaborator Sebastian Klenk. It follows their
‘Apeiron’ track on ZentaSkai’s 2023 ‘Architecture Of The Mind’ LP, among other joint work, and sees them deliver a near-twelve-minute track that is a true masterpiece. The track takes listeners through found-sound texture samples, intricate drum patterns, crunchy breakbeats, and more beautiful dub melodics.
‘Bob’ is another fantastic listening experience on Mask Records, already supported by Satoshi Tomiie, Raresh and Laurent Garnier.

"Miranda Winters, as the voice of Chicago’s much-loved noisemakers Melkbelly, has spent the past few years happily in her own shadow. While she has quietly written and occasionally released her own music for 15 years, Winters finally steps out into the bright light with the release of Lawn Girl, the debut album under her Mandy moniker.

The album, a combination of older songs and newer creations, feels positively and endearingly alive–like a freeing of pent-up energy, an intimate rebuilding of the self. While Winters recorded and produced a number of the songs herself, she worked with Taylor Hales at Electrical Audio to feed those songs back into the studio, where they were re-recorded with room mics and worked back into the original versions. “I see it like photocopying,” she says of the process. “I’ve always loved working with photocopying and related printing techniques in my visual art because of the way everything decays and falls apart. It was nice to honor that on the record.”

Performed by an all-women band–Linda Sherman (guitar), Lizz Smith (bass) and Wendy Zeldin (drums)–the songs on Lawn Girl suitably find Winters ruminating on the idea of femininity; about her mom (who graces the album cover) and being a mother herself; her female friends; and what it means and what is required to make art and music in a female space intentionally."

The legend continues. The pioneer cult band Esplendor Geométrico offers us their new album, Strepitus Rhythmicus, of machine-like and futuristic post-industrial music. The new album includes 9 tracks on a limited-edition vinyl LP and 11 tracks on the CD digipack version. After recording an album of the amazing new project ASA together with Uwe Schmidt/ATOM TM (Raster 2023), the pioneer cult band Esplendor Geométrico offers us their new album. Electric pulse of mechanical rhythms, hidden voices, and factory noises. E.G. reinvent themselves again and again without losing their unique essence. Based now in Islamabad and Rome, Arturo Lanz & Saverio Evangelista have not stopped their live performances all over the world in the last years with great success. 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 during this four decades hasn't had interruptions. They haven't stopped composing, releasing albums or playing live (with more intensity since the nineties), and they have continued for the simple pleasure of making music. Esplendor Geométrico has achieved a personal and distinct style that can be appreciated from their 80's albums, when they used analog synthesizers and primitive electronic percussion, to the present time with new digital tools. 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.

The title of the Lau Nau's 10th album, Aphrilis, derives from the Latin word aperire, meaning "to open." A fitting verb for the month of the year it is closely associated with — April. And while the images of plants and blossoms coming back to colorful life after a long, cold winter feels appropriate when listening to the rich and lustrous bloom of music on Aphrilis, another definition of open feels even more apt. For under the abundance lies the memory of times of austerity, the friction of hard choices, the acceptance that nothing is fixed and the future is unknown. This literal and metaphorical exploration of complexity and contradiction makes Aphrilis a multi-dimensional antidote for our troubled times, one that emphasizes the quiet and communal over noise and spectacle. Laura Naukkarinen, the Finnish artist behind this project, has long kept her mind and spirit open to whatever sounds and creative ideas felt appropriate for the moment. For the past six years that has meant primarily working with modular synthesis — learning how to build modules and releasing acclaimed work centered on its sounds like 5x4 (2023) or Puutarhassa (2022). Running parallel to this work, however, has been a continued exploration of acoustic instruments and group performances with her trio Lau Nau ja Seitsemäs Taivas. Aphrilis arrives then like fresh growth in a creative season cycle. A companion to her brilliant 2017 release Poseidon, the album, says Naukkarinen, "felt like a needed moment to embrace songs with lyrics again." And through the creation of this work, she remained open not only to her own creative muse, but also the input of her chosen collaborators. Each player on Aphrilis — Matti Bye on celesta and synths, Pekko Käppi on jouhikko, Hermanni Yli-Tepsa on violin and contrabass, Topias Tiheäsalo on electric guitar, Samuli Kosminen (Múm) on various instruments — was given free reign to arrange their own parts to accompany Naukkarinen's compositions. Kosminen’s lush fingerprint can also be heard in the mixing and production of the album, as with Poseidon six years ago. The moniker of this project may be taken from Naukkarinen’s own name, but Lau Nau feels more like a band than ever before. The delicacy and softness of the music is reflected in Naukkarinen’s lyrics. Each song is rife with imagery and creatures from the natural world. The spiders in the forest. The animals that keep a young woman company in her refuge in the woods. Wet grass. The feeling of the music is almost tactile, as if listening to the album will leave a bit of dew or sap on your fingers. The theme of this material, says Naukkarinen, runs even deeper. “The songs tell about cracks and changes of direction in different histories: personal, societal, planetary,” she says. “About moments when a yes can become a no and vice versa. The album wants to propose that at the moment of a crisis there is a possibility to influence the histories by our choices.” That may feel like a lot for such a fragile sounding collection of songs to bear. But Aphrilis is an album of surprising strength and resilience

Das dritte Album der britischen Jazz-Formation Emperor's New Clothes wurde 1996 von Trevor Jackson produziert, aber von Acid Jazz Records abgelehnt. Es blieb jahrezehntelang ungehört und erscheint jetzt, nach der Einigung alle Parteien, erstmals als Tonträger. SURREAL ESTATE, ein herrlich verdrehter Mix aus Jazz, Post-Rock, Dub, No Wave, Noise und abstrakten Beats, gespielt von einer fünfköpfigen Live-Band, klingt heute ebenso seltsam relevant, wie es 1996 seiner Zeit weit voraus war. Streng limitierte 180g Vinyl-Auflage im Gatefold, deren Gewinne an die Organisation mind.org.uk gespendet werden.

1000 copies worldwide. Deluxe 30th anniversary re-issue of cult Boston band's 1992 debut. Featuring the intense guitar interplay of Thalia Zedek and Chris Brokaw. Acclaimed by Dinosaur Jr's J Mascis, Husker Du's Bob Mould and Kurt Cobain. An awe-inspiring collision of noise via American blues-rock with thunderous rhythms holding together every six-string duel. A cathartic and euphoric hail of noise that's succinctly tailored for maximum effect. An album that defined Zadek and Brokaw's songwriting partnerships as one of the most original bands of the 90s, tirelessly meshing their blues-infected ballads with feedback and epic instrumental breakdowns. "A uniquely sludgy, electric, and strong fusion of sounds and styles, combining extreme angst and commanding power." AllMusic // In addition, the nine original tracks are extended with the 'Fast Piss Blues' single and its flipside, a cover of The Rolling Stones' 'I Got the Blues'. The re-issue package also includes a download link to 'Live At Vermonstress Festival' recorded on the 10th on November 1992. "Like watching someone howl into a rainstorm."" Entertainment Weekly // "A suitably visceral live recording." Record Collector

Surface Noise, a brand new LP of well-turned guitar pop, complete with roaring chords and propulsive rhythms behind Dunlap's clever and cultured lyrics. Austin, Texas quartet Gentlemen Rogues celebrate aggressive guitar pop anthems _ bearing the influences of The Replacements, Superdrag, Jawbreaker, and similar visionaries _ and have been gaining momentum and increased attention. Since their debut in 2011, the band _ Danny Dunlap (guitar/vocals), Josh Power (drums), John Christoffel (guitar), and Dave Hawkins (bass, vocals) _ have honed their hooks over numerous singles, EPs, and the 2022 full-length collection, A History of Fatalism. Gentlemen Rogues have supported diverse acts like the Lemonheads, Smoking Popes, the Dandy Warhols, Mrs Magician, and Riverboat Gamblers on stages across the U.S. and the UK. In 2021 Gentlemen Rogues opened for both indie-punk icons Superchunk and Bob Mould, who personally selected the band to provide sole support on the Texas leg of his Distortion and Blue Hearts tour. Little Steve Van Zandt, Springsteen's steady side-kick, has been strong supporter, Pressed on Transparent Electric Blue vinyl! Includes hand-numbered obi-strip and download card.

Black Truffle is pleased to announce The Mountains Pass, a major new work from Olivia Block. A key player in Chicago’s vibrant experimental music scene since the late 1990s, Block has developed an extensive body of work grounded in a personalised, at times emotive approach to the studio-based practices of the musique concrète tradition, while also encompassing improvisation, orchestral pieces, sound installations, and a sustained engagement with the piano. On The Mountains Pass, recorded by Greg Norman at Steve Albini’s Electrical Audio and meticulously edited and constructed over the course of three years, Block pushes into new terrain, introducing her singing voice and drums played by Jon Mueller into flowing assemblages that move seamlessly from ruminative organ tones and fragmented piano airs to explosions of sizzling synths and thundering percussion. Like many of Block’s past works, which include, for example, a sculptural installation using the sound of oyster beds, The Mountains Pass draws inspiration from nature and the animal world. Time spent in a particular mountain range in Northern New Mexico informs this suite of pieces, whose lyrics and titles refer particularly to animal life in the area. Beginning with bursts of white noise and delicate synthetic pops and squeaks, opener ‘Northward’ very soon reveals the special direction the album will take, as lyrical piano lines are joined by Block’s fragile voice, singing words written from the perspective of f2754, an endangered Mexican gray wolf who wandered more than five hundred miles from Arizona to New Mexico in 2022. The fragment of song quickly breaks off, leaving us with a ghostly electronic hum. ‘The Hermit’s Peak’ follows, one of two epic pieces at the album’s core. Beginning with chiming, almost harpsichord-like tones, it moves through episodes of spacious, ruminative piano, Jon Mueller’s sparkling cymbals, stuttering cut-up piano sounds, and a climax of keening organ and trumpet tones (performed by Thomas Madeja). Continuing the exploration of vintage keyboard and synth tones heard on Block’s Innocent Passage in the Territorial Sea (Room 40, 2021), the music sometimes suggests the great outer-limits works of 70s Italian prog figures like Franco Battiato or Arturo Stalteri in the languorous drift of synthesizer, organ, and piano tones and the meticulous yet organic flow of its construction. ‘Violet-Green’ opens the second side with another epic journey, its lyrical content concerning ‘a mysterious bird die-off and a forest fire’. Block’s crystalline voice and rich piano chords at times call up the restrained chamber songs of Janet Sherbourne, but fragmented and threaded through passages of woozy pitch-bent keyboards, hypnotic distant thuds, tinkling bells, and searing distorted synth tones. On ‘f2754’, the freedom of the roaming wolf surges through dense layers of rapid keyboard attacks and long organ tones over a propulsive drum performance straight out of Animal Magnetism-era Arnold Dreyblatt. This distinctive sound world is then reencountered in a darkened mirror image in the uneasy, metallic shimmer of the closing ‘Ungulates’, named in reference to a heard of elk roaming through the mountains. Like Battiato’s Clic or Gastr del Sol’s Upgrade & Afterlife, The Mountains Pass inhabits the underexplored terrain where the beauty of song coexists with a radical formal openness, illuminating the deep musicality and warmth that have been present in Block’s work all along.

Daga Voladora's last album came out in 2016. To alleviate such a long wait, only a couple of celebrated singles. Now, finally, Cristina Plaza (identity gracefully hidden under the Daga Voladora name that was before Gran Aparato Eléctrico and also a quarter of Los Eterno and half of Clovis) releases an album and does it, for the first time, in vinyl format. "Los manantiales" is the title of the happy and long-awaited return of an artist that never completely left.

"Los manantiales" ("The Springs") refers to all those sources from which I drink to make my songs: Stereolab, Broadcast, Galaxie 500, Cate Le Bon... And also some of the flamenco language. Flamenco in my own way, of course," explains Plaza. "Los manantiales" will also bring echoes of acts that the artist has not practiced as much such as Esclarecidos, Vainica Doble, Ana D or Kikí d'Akí. Deep voices for songs with substance.

But there is also that other idea of the spring that gushes forth when it can no longer be contained. "It has taken me so many years to make this album because I had a prejudice related to the previous one "Primer segundo" in which there was a coherence. Not finding that concept or thinking that this or that wasn't Daga Voladora, I couldn't get into it. Until I decided that maybe I didn't have to impose such a rigid direction on myself..."

Sketched in a town bordering Ávila where Plaza decided to get lost in the summer of 2022 and then finished off in a basement in Madrid for several months, the nine songs of "Los manantiales" make up a short album, premeditatedly short ("I don't like the songs to be longer than 2:50") but, above all, varied. Because, as can be sensed in the song Quise ser ( "I wanted to be a fictional hero, an expressionist painter, a promising actress"), here are all the imagined Cristinas and their different lives ("The song Lejos de la multitud is that longing of mine to be a vagabond"), an unmistakable sign that, as the artist confesses, "I am my own spring". And all this joyful dispersion comes from the premise with which Plaza approached the album: "I said to myself: 'Let's play'. I set out to have a good time. Suddenly, I wanted to do a dub track and I came up with Fosforito or a rock song like Lou Reed in the 80s and there was 'Me vi penando'. I wanted a rock record, an experimental record, something like Broadcast, and a musical! I wanted to do a thousand things!"

The result is a playful album, very enjoyable; but above all elegant and extremely precise. In both form and substance. Thus, the melodies are so rounded at first listen; the music would work perfectly on its own, stripped of lyrics that respond to the maxim, so often ignored, that there is really only one way to say things. "I have tried to refine the texts a lot. There are some phrases taken from Steinbeck, other things that emerge in a somewhat magical way. There's also Gary Snyder, Kerouac and his Dharma Bums, echoes of California..."

It's an album made, as usual with her, in the most absolute solitude (except for the collaboration of Andrés Arregui on sax and the final mix by Fino Oyonarte). Bareback. "I recorded everything with my computer, with my instruments, my analog keyboards, my rhythm boxes, little noises I make around... I don't make demos. I just do it. In a rough way. What I do do is repeat. The good thing about this method is that many things happen spontaneously and that's where they stay".

An album that, for all of the above, responds to the best notion of caprice. A whimsical whim, signed and finished off by the splendid cover designed by Beatriz Lobo, which feartures a painting ('La chica del King Creole') by the legendary artist Javier de Juan.

In "Los manantiales" there are many possible worlds, as many dreamed ones. Of course, those of Daga Voladora (not in vain, the album opens with a song titled Cristinópolis), but also those of any curious and sensitive listener who, by the way, will find more than one musical wink along the way. You just have to be attentive.

Seth Price’s suite “Coinos Driftos“ announces itself with the sound of a rolling coin – a punctuation that repeats throughout the record – before dropping the listener into a storm of harsh winds and far-away bells. When the storm abates we find ourselves in a desolate field of stuttering electric harp and electronic sub-bass. Side B emerges from a mist of gentle tones that soon give way to a juddering contraption of dropped coins and clacking noises, which itself seems to summon the arrival of a war machine – a glorious squall of high tones, bristling with Helmholtz inner-ear sensations, all just barely kept in line by a loping, irregular bassline – that resolves into a final, more personal, piece of field recording. Seth Price made the music in 2023 by improvising three straight-through takes on Arp synthesizer, bells, and electric Nagoya harp, often playing two instruments at once, with all signals routed through pedals and processors; these tracks were sequenced before the addition of overdubbed bass guitar and field recordings.

Miles Davis' A Tribute to Jack Johnson is the best jazz-rock record ever made. Equally inspired by the leader's desire to assemble the "greatest rock and roll band you have ever heard,” his adoration of Johnson, and Black Power politics, Davis created a hard-hitting set that surges with excitement, intensity, majesty, and power. Bridging the electric fusion he'd pursued on earlier efforts with a funkier, dirtier rhythmic approach, Davis zeroes in on concepts of spontaneity, freedom, and identity seldom achieved in the studio — and just as infrequently accepted by the mainstream.

Sourced from the original analog master tapes, pressed on MoFi SuperVinyl, and housed in a Stoughton jacket, Mobile Fidelity's 180g LP reissue brings it all to fore with startling realism. Benefitting from SuperVinyl’s nearly inaudible noise floor, superb groove definition, and clean, ultra-quiet surfaces, this 180g LP showcases everything — from the bold tonality of the headliner's white-hot trumpet solos to the decay of crashing cymbals, carry of wiry guitar notes, and echoes of the studio — in reference fashion.

Bristling with exuberance, Davis' high-register passages explode with authority and commanding presence. Around him, a barrage of urgent backbeats, knifing riffs, and supple bass lines emerge amidst black backgrounds. One of the most prominent differences long-time fans will notice is how much more aggressive, immediate, and vibrant the music sounds, with those aspects central to the composer's original desires.

Utilizing wah-wah and distortion, the go-to instrumentalist of the performances— guitarist John McLaughlin — attacks with a nasty edge, slashing style, and vicious streak that allows A Tribute to Jack Johnson< cross the until-then-impenetrable divide between rock and jazz. Davis puts both feet in the former camp and erases any gap. The stories of the record’s creation are nearly as legendary as the sounds within: Two sessions, multiple jams, different sets of musicians (several uncredited), and near-miraculous production perfectionism that made it all appear cohesive.

The least-well-known masterpiece of Davis' career, the 1971 record — seamlessly assembled and spliced together by producer Teo Macero — was a victim of limited record-label promotion. Audiences also didn’t immediately know what to make of its original cover art — faithfully replicated here. In addition, the powers that be at Columbia Records were directing the public’s attention to Miles at Fillmore, a completely different kind of album guided by two keyboardists. A Tribute to Jack Johnson practically lives in a different universe, one from the future. To many listeners who did manage to hear it — among them critic/musician Robert Quine, Stooges leader Iggy Pop, and renowned critic Robert Christgau — it surpassed everything that came before.

Indeed, Davis treated it as a personal manifesto: An opportunity to salute the Black championship boxer admired for his threatening image to the establishment and impeccable taste in clothes, cars, women and music. Davis explains in the liner notes his affinity for Johnson — a stance mirrored by the defiant music, which hits with a prize fighter's force and reflects the graceful elegance with which a pugilist navigates the ring — and closes the album with a Johnson quote read by Brock Peters.

Inspired not only by Johnson but by Jimi Hendrix and Sly Stone, Davis changed his approach and his band. He surrounds himself with a cadre of musicians in their 20s and, in the case of bassist Michael Henderson, a 19-year-old fresh from touring with Stevie Wonder. Henderson gives Davis what he requested: boogie-based grooves that don’t lose shape or direction. Soprano saxophonist Steve Grossman, drummer Billy Cobham, and organist Herbie Hancock adhere to a similar aesthetic that prizes brazenness, innovation, and energy.

In that vein, during a portion of “Yesternow,” Davis segues into a separate performance (which became known in its entirety as “Willie Nelson”) played by guitarists McLaughlin and Sonny Sharrock, bass clarinetist Bernie Maupin, keyboardist Chick Corea, bassist Dave Holland, and drummer Jack DeJohnette. Dig it!

Talking with jazz scholar Bill Milkowski — who himself noted how McLaughlin’s unrestrained style, decibel-forward volumes, and rapid-fire power chords engendered himself to the rock crowd at the same time that his harmonics and syncopation still definitely made him a jazz player — guitarist Henry Kaiser summed up part of the appeal of A Tribute to Jack Johnson as well as anyone, saying: “It’s a jazz record that way way more open than other jazz records at the time, but still not free jazz. McLaughlin’s rhythm guitar playing on ‘Right Off’ — the use of different chords in a rock shuffle than what anybody had used before — was revolutionary.”

And to think that’s just one aspect of a record that contains multitudes. “Never let them forget it.” Indeed.

Respected Italian talent Francesco Tegazzin, also known as Distilled Noise, has emerged from years of self-exploration in the recording studio with a true passion for house and minimal grooves. His journey culminates in the release of his first Satya 12", "Evolution Of The Mind," a sonic testament to his current musical identity.

In crafting this opus, Distilled Noise immerses himself in experimentation. Reflecting his dynamic approach to music-making, each track on the record serves as a departure from the norm, with intentional alterations to his workflow for every new composition.

A defining hallmark of his artistry lies in the homage paid to his musical roots. Francesco seamlessly integrates guitar-like sounds, electric pianos, and funky basslines into each track, resulting in a unique fusion of diverse elements. His commitment to delivering more than mere utilitarian "tools" is unmistakable, as he endeavors to create compositions that etch a lasting imprint on the listener's mind.

Scheduled for release on March 15, 2024, the EP promises an exhilarating listening and dancing experience for aficionados of groove based house music.