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A“This album is about what it means to be human, and its creation is my offering. I attempt to tell a tale of the human experience in the reflection of my own.”

‘In the Andean mythology, condors are believed to be immortal. It is said that once they feel old, without energy, and useless, they climb to the highest peak and let themselves fall to death.’

The Allegorist is a visionary, enigmatic, transmedia, and boundary-pushing artist known for crafting deep, immersive dark sonic tales. Embracing a wide array of influences, weaving together the mysteries, art and spirituality, the art project defies categorisation, resonating with those who seek the unconventional.

From Birth Until Death is an introspective and immersive concept album that reflects on the essence of the human experience. Crafted over six years by The Allegorist (aka Anna Jordan), the album traces the arc of life—from its fragile beginnings to its inevitable end—using sound art to explore existential and philosophical terrain. Inspired by the Andean mythology of the condor – a symbol of immortality – the album blends electronic soundscapes with raw field recordings, evoking a deep sense of connection between the natural world and human existence.

The album’s progression mirrors the stages of life, starting with the birth of new beginnings and culminating in death, with each track offering a unique reflection on the moments in between. From the dynamic energy of Momentum, to the ethereal, illusionary world of Fata Morgana, the tracks guide the listener through emotions, perceptions, and experiences that shape the human condition.

A distinctive feature of From Birth Until Death is its intricate production. The album incorporates field recordings from Grunewald Forest, a distant roar of a jet, barking dogs, blending the sounds of nature – footsteps in the snow, birdsong, ocean waves – with layered synthesisers and electronic beats. The bass and ambient textures are crafted using an array of analog hardware, while all vocals, both lead and backing, are performed and recorded by Jordan. Some of the vocal takes were intentionally left raw, capturing the spontaneous energy of early recordings, while others were re-recorded to balance the album’s organic yet polished feel. Each element is meticulously crafted, revealing its deeper meaning as the album unfolds like a multidimensional, living sculpture.

At its core, From Birth Until Death is a meditation on the full spectrum of life. The album’s title track, From Birth Until Death, encapsulates this journey, reflecting on the passage of time and the unique experience of being human. The final track, Death, offers a melancholic yet beautiful exploration of endings, not as finalities, but as moments in the grand cycle of life. With its combination of evocative sound design and deeply personal themes, From Birth Until Death invites listeners to contemplate their own lives, offering a moving experience of reflection, growth, and transformation.

About From Birth Until Death
Words By Robin Rimbaud (Scanner)

From Birth Until Death is a deeply personal and reflective album and beautifully crafted. A detailed listen reveals that Jordan was in search of a profoundly human and authentic expression. In an era when so much around us seems defined by speed, Anna Jordan, aka The Allegorist, stands apart – aware that skimming the surface of life is neither sufficient nor rewarding. She reminds us of the value of deep, authentic listening.

The track Andean Condor seductively draws us into a smoky, blurred rhythmic soundscape, capturing the essence of the darkest Berlin nightclub, while Birth pulses with an almost shamanic transformation of sound, moving from the organic to the musical. It features a recording of Jordan’s footsteps in the snow in Grunewald Forest, Germany.

At times, the music feels almost sculptural in shape and tone – lifting, pushing, lilting, opening, and closing – where each piece is given room to fully develop. Many of the works blend synthetic sound with the natural, incorporating the human voice alongside environmental recordings: the wild waves of the ocean, a jet flying overhead, and barking dogs.

With From Birth Until Death, Jordan, like an alchemical architect revealing in the process of getting lost and relinquishing control, leaves us with a taut, immersive soundtrack in which to lose ourselves.

About the album ‘From Birth Until Death’
words by The Allegorist

“The album From Birth Until Death did not come easily to me. I started working on it in 2019, and it underwent many alterations over the years. I produced multiple versions of the tracks each year, but the album name, the track titles, and the album cover art stayed the same for 6 years. Not everything I did fit into the album’s final form, but I hope the heavy selection just made it better. I played this piece live in my techno live set between 2019 and 2020, and in the years after, I performed different art, ambient, and vocal versions of it, most notably the one at the church St. Marienkirche in Berlin in 2022. It just wanted to live and didn’t want to be finished. As I aged, this album aged with me. And now I’m ready to let it go.”

Award-winning producer and composer Giorgi Koberidze offers up a head-spinning debut of Georgian modern classical music shot through with 360° electroacoustic textures.

Giorgi Koberidze is an electronic and classical music composer from Georgia. He currently serves as a professor of music at Tbilisi State Conservatoire, as well as at Ilia State University, and the private music school "303 Herz". Giorgi's work is rooted in the Georgian musical tradition, cross-pollinating indigenous instrumentation with electronic and western classical timbres. He recently won first prize in the Tbilisi Conservatoire Composers Awards, and received Georgia's most prestigious cultural gong, the Tsinandali Award.
The Album was premiered in Georgia at the Kutaisi Film Festival, and later showcased at the Tbilisi Film Festival. Working from graphic scores, Giorgi's ensemble includes strings, woodwind and traditional instruments from the Caucasus (doli, chuniri). Fleeting voices, field recordings and skittering percussion converge to paint a storied map of Tbilisi, and its surrounding terrain of forested polyphony and microtonal peaks and crags.

Each listen of the album is projectively rich, like a dizzying series of sonic inkblot images. The piece is designed to be absorbed in the surround sound of darkened movie theatres, conjuring a multiverse of narratives in the half-light of sensory acuity. At home, Giorgi invites listeners to set aside time to experience the record in a dark, comfortable space absent of external stimuli.

This album was made with the support of the Tbilisi State Conservatoire. The recordings were funded by Nicolas Jaar. Thank you. We are beyond proud to present this incredible project.

Recommended for fans of Pierre Bastien, Roméo Poirier, Jan Jelinek.

LA's Elbow Grease label takes a sharp left turn from dance floor-finessing singles to their first full-length
release via the elusive yet illustrious band KAMM, who return in extra fine form for their third and
presumably final album offering, following the sudden tragic death of core member Alland Byallo last
year. Surviving bandmates Marc Barrite aka Dave Aju, Kenneth Scott, and Marc Smith chose the
inspirational higher ground, finishing off what they had begun with Byallo prior to his passing, resulting in
this sublime musical love letter of an LP.
In keeping with the band’s broad influence canon, we are treated to a blend of sonic flavors from
across the genre spectrum with Barrite and Byallo’s jazz upbringings ringing true at the center, then
branching out through golden era hip-hop feels, phased-out psych funk, warm smokey soul, and of
course generous helpings of intricate electronic layers and innovative treatments, as all band members
have become notorious for in their respective solo bodies of work.
While highly personal by nature, including otherworldly cover art based on Byallo's last paintings, the
musical content contained on the album is also widely universal - from opener “Crystalline Dreams”
serpentine tones turned slo-mo funk bomb, to the triptych Bossa boom-bap of “No Deal”, the timely
political calls of uptempo jazz burner “Your Honor”, the intimate upright-led tribute tales of “Angels
Flight”, to the sleek electro rhythm changes of mid-set breather “How Long?”, a deeply felt take on our
mobile-reliant fate in “S.I.M.”, the expansively expressive depth of “Coordinates”, then closing it out with
the title track featuring a grand finale chorus of Byallo’s best friends and fam from around the world
joining in the “Let The Light In” chant, with as much uplifting intention as possible to capture on record.
A loving collective embrace and very welcome reminder to help lighten these darker days

Googling “paradise house”, the first results to pop up are an endless list of European b&b’s with whitewashed lime façades, all of them promising “…an unmatched travel experience a few steps from the sea”. Next, a little further down, are the institutional websites of a few select semi-luxury retirement homes (no photos shown, but lots of stock images of smiling nurses with reassuring looks). To find the “paradise house” we’re after, we have to scroll even further down. Much further down.

It feels like yesterday, and at the same time it seems like a million years ago. The Eighties had just ended, and it was still unclear what to expect from the Nineties. Mobile phones that were not the size of a briefcase and did not cost as much as a car? A frightening economic crisis? The guitar-rock revival?! Certainly, the best place to observe that moment of transition was the dancefloor. Truly epochal transformations were happening there. From America, within a short distance one from the other, two revolutionary new musical styles had arrived: the first one sounded a bit like an “on a budget” version of the best Seventies disco-music – Philly sound made with a set of piano-bar keyboards! – the other was even more sparse, futuristic and extraterrestrial. It was a music with a quite distinct “physical” component, which at the same time, to be fully grasped, seemed to call for the knotty theories of certain French post-modern philosophers: Gilles Deleuze, Félix Guattari, Paul Virilio... Both those genres – we would learn shortly after – were born in the black communities of Chicago and Detroit, although listening to those vinyl 12” (often wrapped in generic white covers, and with little indication in the label) you could not easily guess whether behind them there was a black boy from somewhere in the Usa, or a girl from Berlin, or a pale kid from a Cornish coastal town.

Quickly, similar sounds began to show up from all corners of Europe. A thousand variations of the same intuition: leaner, less lean, happier, slightly less intoxicated, more broken, slower, faster, much faster... Boom! From the dancefloors – the London ones at least, whose chronicles we eagerly read every month in the pages of The Face and i-D – came tales of a new generation of clubbers who had completely stopped “dressing up” to go dancing; of hot tempered hooligans bursting into tears and hugging everyone under the strobe lights as the notes of Strings of Life rose up through the fumes of dry ice (certain “smiling” pills were also involved, sure). At this point, however, we must move on to Switzerland.

In Switzerland, in the quiet and diligent town of Lugano, between the 1980s and 1990s there was a club called “Morandi”. Its hot night was on Wednesdays, when the audience also came from Milan, Como, Varese and Zurich. Legend goes that, one night, none less than Prince and Sheila E were spotted hiding among the sofas, on a day-off of the Italian dates of the Nude Tour… The Wednesday resident and superstar was an Italian dj with an exotic name: Don Carlos. The soundtrack he devised was a mixture of Chicago, Detroit, the most progressive R&B and certain forgotten classics of old disco music: practically, what the Paradise Garage in New York might have sounded like had it not closed in 1987. In between, Don Carlos also managed to squeeze in some tracks he had worked on in his studio on Lago Maggiore. One in particular: a track that was rather slow compared to the BPM in fashion at the time, but which was a perfect bridge between house and R&B. The title was Alone: Don Carlos would explain years later that it had to be intended both in the English meaning of “by itself” and like the Italian word meaning “halo”. That wasn’t the only double entendre about the song, anyway. Its own very deep nature was, indeed, double. On the one hand, Alone was built around an angelic keyboard pattern and a romantic piano riff that took you straight to heaven; on the other, it showcased enough electronic squelches (plus a sax part that sounded like it had been dissolved by acid rain) to pigeonhole the tune into the “junk modernity” section, aka the hallmark of all the most innovative sounds of the time: music that sounded like it was hand-crafted from the scraps of glittering overground pop.

No one knows who was the first to call it “paradise house”, nor when it happened. Alternative definitions on the same topic one happened to hear included “ambient house”, “dream house”, “Mediterranean progressive”… but of course none were as good (and alluring) as “paradise house”. What is certain is that such inclination for sounds that were in equal measure angelic and neurotic, romantic and unaffective, quickly became the trademark of the second generation of Italian house. Music that seemed shyly equidistant from all the rhythmic and electronic revolutions that had happened up to that moment (“Music perfectly adept at going nowhere slowly” as noted by English journalist Craig McLean in a legendary field report for Blah Blah Blah magazine). Music that to a inattentive ear might have sounded as anonymous as a snapshot of a random group of passers-by at 10AM in the centre of any major city, but perfectly described the (slow) awakening in the real world after the universal love binge of the so-called Second Summer of Love.

For a brief but unforgettable season, in Italy “paradise house” was the official soundtrack of interminable weekends spent inside the car, darting from one club to another, cutting the peninsula from North to centre, from East to West coast in pursuit of the latest after-hours disco, trading kilometres per hour with beats per minute: practically, a new New Year’s Eve every Friday and Saturday night. This too was no small transformation, as well as a shock for an adult Italy that was encountering for the first time – thanks to its sons and daughters – the wild side of industrial modernity. The clubbers of the so-called “fuoriorario” scene were the balls gone mad in the pinball machine most feared by newspapers, magazines and TV pundits. What they did each and every weekend, apart from going crazy to the sound of the current white labels, was linking distant geographical points and non-places (thank you Marc Augé!) – old dance halls, farmhouses and business centres – transformed for one night into house music heaven. As Marco D’Eramo wrote in his 1995 essay on Chicago, Il maiale e il grattacielo: “Four-wheeled capitalism distorts our age-old image of the city, it allows the suburbs to be connected to each other, whereas before they were connected only by the centre (…) It makes possible a metropolitan area without a metropolis, without a city centre, without downtown. The periphery is no longer a periphery of any centre, but is self-centred”.

“Paradise house” perfectly understood all of this and turned it into a sort of cyber-blues that didn’t even need words, and unexpectedly brought back a drop of melancholic (post?)-humanity within a world that by then – as we would wholly realise in the decades to come – was fully inhuman and heartless. A world where we were all alone, and surrounded by a sinister yellowish halo, like a neon at the end of its life cycle. But, for one night at least, happy."

LIMITED POSTER EDITION (inclusive stickers)
For the 4th release in this Electro Acid VA series, we present 303 craftsmanship, seamlessly blended into an electrifying electro setting.
Johnfaustus returns with two raw, otherworldly musical tales, staying true to the signature style we know and this time, he takes it to an even greater level. Akkaelle channels old-school vibes with a bass-driven, slow-burning groove, and Axis3340 closes the EP by plunging you into uncharted freaky depths with their dark and haunting track "Ashes." This track set you in fire, leaving smoldering embers in its wake.

Volume 1 of this expertly curated project of 90s Italian House - put together by Don Carlos.

If Paradise was half as nice… by Fabio De Luca.

Googling “paradise house”, the first results to pop up are an endless list of European b&b’s with whitewashed lime façades, all of them promising “…an unmatched travel experience a few steps from the sea”. Next, a little further down, are the institutional websites of a few select semi-luxury retirement homes (no photos shown, but lots of stock images of smiling nurses with reassuring looks). To find the “paradise house” we’re after, we have to scroll even further down. Much further down.

It feels like yesterday, and at the same time it seems like a million years ago. The Eighties had just ended, and it was still unclear what to expect from the Nineties. Mobile phones that were not the size of a briefcase and did not cost as much as a car? A frightening economic crisis? The guitar-rock revival?! Certainly, the best place to observe that moment of transition was the dancefloor. Truly epochal transformations were happening there. From America, within a short distance one from the other, two revolutionary new musical styles had arrived: the first one sounded a bit like an “on a budget” version of the best Seventies disco-music – Philly sound made with a set of piano-bar keyboards! – the other was even more sparse, futuristic and extraterrestrial. It was a music with a quite distinct “physical” component, which at the same time, to be fully grasped, seemed to call for the knotty theories of certain French post-modern philosophers: Gilles Deleuze, Félix Guattari, Paul Virilio... Both those genres – we would learn shortly after – were born in the black communities of Chicago and Detroit, although listening to those vinyl 12” (often wrapped in generic white covers, and with little indication in the label) you could not easily guess whether behind them there was a black boy from somewhere in the Usa, or a girl from Berlin, or a pale kid from a Cornish coastal town.

Quickly, similar sounds began to show up from all corners of Europe. A thousand variations of the same intuition: leaner, less lean, happier, slightly less intoxicated, more broken, slower, faster, much faster... Boom! From the dancefloors – the London ones at least, whose chronicles we eagerly read every month in the pages of The Face and i-D – came tales of a new generation of clubbers who had completely stopped “dressing up” to go dancing; of hot tempered hooligans bursting into tears and hugging everyone under the strobe lights as the notes of Strings of Life rose up through the fumes of dry ice (certain “smiling” pills were also involved, sure). At this point, however, we must move on to Switzerland.

In Switzerland, in the quiet and diligent town of Lugano, between the 1980s and 1990s there was a club called “Morandi”. Its hot night was on Wednesdays, when the audience also came from Milan, Como, Varese and Zurich. Legend goes that, one night, none less than Prince and Sheila E were spotted hiding among the sofas, on a day-off of the Italian dates of the Nude Tour… The Wednesday resident and superstar was an Italian dj with an exotic name: Don Carlos. The soundtrack he devised was a mixture of Chicago, Detroit, the most progressive R&B and certain forgotten classics of old disco music: practically, what the Paradise Garage in New York might have sounded like had it not closed in 1987. In between, Don Carlos also managed to squeeze in some tracks he had worked on in his studio on Lago Maggiore. One in particular: a track that was rather slow compared to the BPM in fashion at the time, but which was a perfect bridge between house and R&B. The title was Alone: Don Carlos would explain years later that it had to be intended both in the English meaning of “by itself” and like the Italian word meaning “halo”. That wasn’t the only double entendre about the song, anyway. Its own very deep nature was, indeed, double. On the one hand, Alone was built around an angelic keyboard pattern and a romantic piano riff that took you straight to heaven; on the other, it showcased enough electronic squelches (plus a sax part that sounded like it had been dissolved by acid rain) to pigeonhole the tune into the “junk modernity” section, aka the hallmark of all the most innovative sounds of the time: music that sounded like it was hand-crafted from the scraps of glittering overground pop.

No one knows who was the first to call it “paradise house”, nor when it happened. Alternative definitions on the same topic one happened to hear included “ambient house”, “dream house”, “Mediterranean progressive”… but of course none were as good (and alluring) as “paradise house”. What is certain is that such inclination for sounds that were in equal measure angelic and neurotic, romantic and unaffective, quickly became the trademark of the second generation of Italian house. Music that seemed shyly equidistant from all the rhythmic and electronic revolutions that had happened up to that moment (“Music perfectly adept at going nowhere slowly” as noted by English journalist Craig McLean in a legendary field report for Blah Blah Blah magazine). Music that to a inattentive ear might have sounded as anonymous as a snapshot of a random group of passers-by at 10AM in the centre of any major city, but perfectly described the (slow) awakening in the real world after the universal love binge of the so-called Second Summer of Love.

For a brief but unforgettable season, in Italy “paradise house” was the official soundtrack of interminable weekends spent inside the car, darting from one club to another, cutting the peninsula from North to centre, from East to West coast in pursuit of the latest after-hours disco, trading kilometres per hour with beats per minute: practically, a new New Year’s Eve every Friday and Saturday night. This too was no small transformation, as well as a shock for an adult Italy that was encountering for the first time – thanks to its sons and daughters – the wild side of industrial modernity. The clubbers of the so-called “fuoriorario” scene were the balls gone mad in the pinball machine most feared by newspapers, magazines and TV pundits. What they did each and every weekend, apart from going crazy to the sound of the current white labels, was linking distant geographical points and non-places (thank you Marc Augé!) – old dance halls, farmhouses and business centres – transformed for one night into house music heaven. As Marco D’Eramo wrote in his 1995 essay on Chicago, Il maiale e il grattacielo: “Four-wheeled capitalism distorts our age-old image of the city, it allows the suburbs to be connected to each other, whereas before they were connected only by the centre (…) It makes possible a metropolitan area without a metropolis, without a city centre, without downtown. The periphery is no longer a periphery of any centre, but is self-centred”.

“Paradise house” perfectly understood all of this and turned it into a sort of cyber-blues that didn’t even need words, and unexpectedly brought back a drop of melancholic (post?)-humanity within a world that by then – as we would wholly realise in the decades to come – was fully inhuman and heartless. A world where we were all alone, and surrounded by a sinister yellowish halo, like a neon at the end of its life cycle. But, for one night at least, happy.

Industrial Lies will release ‘New Industry’, the debut EP from Irish artist Poseidon84 on January 31st, 2025.

‘New Industry’ takes influence from early Chicago house and ebm to fashion three killer drum tracks that ooze raw emotion.

It is the second release on Industrial Lies, a sub-label of Irish house and techno imprint First Cut that launched in 2024.

Industrial Lies is dedicated to shining a light on obscure Chicago house, ebm/industrial, electro and adjacent electronic sounds from the past and present.

Slam poetry, rap battles, singing, song writing and drumming. The hit album “Say Yes” by Iyeoka is now being released as a high quality vinyl version (180 g) in gatefold. The YouTube hit “Simply Falling” received over 216 Million clicks.

Iyeoka (read: ee-yo-kah) is well versed in many expressive arts, but in essence she is a storyteller and poet. "My goal is very simple", says the US Nigerian American, "I want to move the world, one poem at a time". She does this enchantingly well with her album "Say Yes (R)evolved". In poems set to music Iyeoka Ivie Okoawo (her full name) reveals herself to be a strong, self-confident woman of the modern world. She tells tales of love and relationships in the 21st century and philosophizes about the daily struggle of life and being a woman in a post-feminist world digging deeply and personally into her African roots.

Musically Iyeoka handles expertly a wide variety of styles from electronic soul "Break Down Mode" to technofied R'n'B "Broken Hearts Anthem (Walk Away)", from energetic dance inducing grooves "The Yellow Brick Road Song", to a more jazzy "Happily Ever After", from melodic soft rock "Say Yes", to pop "Soundtrack to Life" and reggae "Testify". She certainly has presence and shines out with a silky smooth elegance reminiscent of Sade "This Time around", "Simply Falling". This woman has real all-round talent, and she knows how to use it!

Tales From The Loop es el nuevo disco que firma el productor malagueño mess_ey. Se trata de un proyecto paralelo de Broken Lip conocido por ser el 50% de BSN Possee y ex-miembro de Califato 3/4.

El disco se define como un emotivo viaje lleno de melancolía en el que el artista se abraza a las luces y sombras del camino que tiene que recorrer en busca de su propia catarsis personal por la pérdida de Tina, una de las tres perras junto a Mesey y Tuerca que son fundamentales en su vida y a las que ha dedicado este trabajo.

Texto de Electrónica & Roll "Feel The Beat"

A gas generator, a hi-fi system, a semi-abandoned house, and 20 hastily printed flyers. That's how, almost without realizing it, Lapsus was born in 2004. Over the course of two decades, we've ridden a rollercoaster of emotions: from soaring epiphanies, convinced that nothing could stop us, to moments of near defeat when we almost threw in the towel. Let's be honestMaking a career out of music is not exactly choosing the easy path. But epic tales aside, today we look back with pride at having created something that, in our humble view, is genuine. To celebrate Lapsus' journey and what lies ahead--and also keeping an eye on what is yet to come--we've gathered some of the artists who have joined us along the way, musicians we consider friends and for whom we have the deepest admiration. In a way, VINT (Catalan for ''twenty'') is like a sonic photo album, a tracklist that tells our story better than we could ourselves, a collection of unreleased music that celebrates the fact that we've made it this far. Leading this outstanding compilation are forward-thinking producers, with contributions from some of the most respected names in cutting-edge electronic music (A-Z): CLARAGUILAR, GAZZI, Kettel, Kode9, Le Motel, Lord Of The Isles, Marina Herlop, naemi, Nueen, Pepe, Plaid, Seph, Simo Cell, Suzanne Ciani, Wordcolour, and u-Ziq. VINT is our way of thanking you for your unwavering support over these 20 years. We hope you enjoy it!

Red Vinyl. Since emerging in 2015, Sextile have been a party-provoking force on the LA underground, capable of kicking up a riot with the raw-edged squall of a synth or the sharp-elbowed jerk of a guitar. Sextile are now ready to rage with a serotonin-boosting new album, a new group dynamic, faster BPMs, and an even wilder new direction. Recorded in Yucca Valley, Push bounces and bops at the fringes of hardcore dance music, with the hallmarks of drum & bass, gabber and trance illuminating the record like glowsticks at a `90s Fantazia rave. "Contortion" introduces the album with shadowy vocals from Keehn and a `00s-ready twist of dirty electro bass, setting the tone for the dance-punk rave-up that unfolds across 11 attention-grabbing tracks. There's plenty of historic teen angst and biting social commentary written into the album's vivid tales and misadventures. Balancing storytelling with face- melting synths that turn the tune into an acid trance character study, "No Fun" is penned from the perspective of a teenager trying to flee their town. A punk spirit underscores the album. The clue's in the name with "Crassy Mel," which partly serves as a high-energy dedication to `70s anarcho-punk legends Crass . The track's headbang - ing heft, vocal yelping, and Prodigy -shaped breakbeats accentuate the album's overwhelming sense of fun. Plus, the dreamy ambient wash at the end of the song is the ultimate palate- cleanser. Push was inspired by the kind of pleasure-seeking music fans whose social calendar comprises both the punk show and the rave. Josh Wink, Iggy Pop, Goldie, and early XL Recordings have all been namechecked as influences on Push , and the dancefloor remains a constant pres - ence. Repping their place of origin, "New York" brings these musical touchstones off the page, guiding the album like an acid-soaked lodestar with its grinning nod to "Higher State of Consciousness" and a whirlygig of music-box synths. There are still nods and "hellos" to the caustic post-punk of Sextile's earlier work. Sextile haven't relinquished their punk credentials, they've just given them a smiley-faced revamp.

Plastic Crimewave Syndicate returns with one collective foot in overdriven space-biker scuzz rock, but the other bigfoot kicking upward into new galaxies of synth punk, no-prog, and freek funk. Yes, dare we say it, the new PCWS LP, Tales From the Golden Skull, GROOVES--but from the perspective of the Japan n' Kraut/Eurorock undergrounds, coated in some nasty Windy City grime. Aided by the Chicago Cosmonaut Couriers Crew, ala famed renaissance man Mac Blackout (synths/horns/electronics), Przemyslaw Krys Drazek (trumpet) of longtime zone-jammers Drazek Fuscaldo/Mako Sica, Will MacLean on Moog keytar (!-- of local Silver vocoder-ed Apples lovin' treasures Protovulcan), plus the oldest-school synthlord Bil Vermette, who's been modulating since the 70s. We'll call Tales From the Golden Skull a near-concept lp (aren't they always?) that looks back at fallen friends and collaborators, and then into the unwritten golden future (as PCW himself hit the golden 50). The sonic journey dips into dark textural valleys, and chugging riffs rising to thee fiery heavens, as the thundering-but-subtle rhythm section of Jose "Beast but Best" Bernal and Rob "Dead Feathers" Rodak know when to crash and when to burn (one). Sir PCW lays down his trademark big muff-blastage and echo-cries, to channel the despair and feral bark of the mighty Vega/Hammill/Iggy/Dickie P/Haino/Mojo-Risin/Mizutani, but also knows when to shut up for some layered instrumental Embryo/Harvester/Fausty trance rock and dabbed/dubbed out "not-quite-shoegazin" calmness in the eye of the Ur-storm. This might be the most expansive, detailed yet furious PCWS LP yet, recorded at Rec Room studios with Eric Block, who has done all from a band with Sonic Youth's Steve Shelley to recorded Rhys Chatham 100+-peeps guitar orchestras. So strap the headphones on and absorb the tales of this spaced ritual-rock opus. Artwork - Steve Krakow

On Maza Gusu, Mikado Koko transforms into Mother Goose, hissing Perrault's fairy tales from her native tongue in your ears. Her unsettling, regressive voice is backed up by a subtle and chilling electronic soundscape sprinkled with traditional Japanese instruments, creating a realm of sound that feels both weirdly familiar and deeply unknown. Mother Koko hurls you deep down the rabbit hole, back to your darkest childhood anguishes, before gently leading you by the hand to a joyful catharsis. As you slowly get used to its disturbing familiarity, Koko’s music feels like waking up in the pale morning light, shaky but relieved after a feverish dream.

In summer 2017 Mikado Koko started her solo career as a club music producer with the elements of Japanese traditional music. After many releases, remixes and compilations such as Seitō: In the Beginning, Woman Was the Sun (AKU1016), she now focuses on avant-garde poetry reading related to feminism and gender equality.

Fohn brings connection, displacement and new identities into the moment, on pastoral debut album Seanteach - informed by island life, marine folklore and musical tradition.

Connection to the land, the severing of earthly ties, explorations of environment, mythos and generational memory: under the moniker of Fohn, English violinist and producer Tom Connolly (Quade, AD93) takes to the fiddle on which he learned his craft as a child. Forging new bonds with his family’s island home off the coastal west of Ireland, their story is retold in Seanteach (Irish for ‘old house’), released on Odda Recordings.

“Seanteach explores the nature of my relationship with Ireland, and Connemara in particular, where my dad’s family is from,” explains Connolly, speaking on a long-form work that blends new compositions on traditional Irish fiddle with ambient electronics and evocative field recordings.

“It explores how the island of Maighinis became an almost mythological space for me, growing up in England - we would spend every summer there, but it felt equally present for me when we were back in the UK, a sort of mental solace that I found through music especially.”

Each track on the album is a reflection of aspects of that relationship to island life - where physical features intersect with mythology. Such as, ‘Boreen’, named after a colloquial term for rural byroads sometimes shared with otherworldly neighbours. ‘Aisling at Sea’ draws on the primal, unstoppable momentum of the water, while the folklore of ‘Immram’ reflects on generationally-kept tales of marine bravery and supernatural accomplishment.

“The compositions often sit at the fraying edges of memories I’ve inherited from my own experiences, that of family lore, or from stories that I have come across. I wanted the compositions to tread the space between documentation and fantasy that feels so reflective of my relationship with this place.”

Tying these worlds together is the presence and memory of Connolly’s ‘Mamó’ (Irish for grandmother), Bríd. Despite passing during Connolly’s childhood, this “larger-than-life character” shaped his imagination with anecdotes and stories, representing both a familiar figure, and the poignancies of potential and regret.

“Even at a young age I sensed a sadness emanating from her. Through a series of unfortunate and fortunate circumstances, she found herself leaving Ireland and settling in Boston like so many others. Under the impression she was an illegal immigrant in the US she didn’t return to Ireland for decades.”

‘Between the Shoreline and the Gorse’ channels her early childhood, born to a large Catholic family in the island’s ‘Seanteach’, and cast adrift from her old life - a severance of ties that Connolly attempts to make ethereal amends for, with the album named for her family home.

“It’s something that feels so visibly prominent in Connemara with its landscapes charcoaled with deserted ruins. It’s a feeling I also experience, despite never having lived in Ireland, which prompted me to want to explore the idea of longing for something/somewhere ‘un-experienced’, and to a certain extent, fictionalised.”

Fables of the future fuel the present. Lisel (Eliza Bagg) draws from this tradition on The Vanishing Point, a daring musical odyssey of altered singing, experimental pop, broken melodies, and striking electronics. A culmination of her continual dissemblance of genre, Lisel’s new album is an epic composed of allegorical tales, forming a dystopian storybook of life in the shadow of impending catastrophe. It’s a high-concept work of contemporary pop sounds, hyperpop motifs and tropes. Every song reflects the shared psycho-emotional experience of moving towards unsettling futures and looking beyond these outcomes, to the point where the horizons vanish. Evolving the sonic toolkit she employed on Patterns For Autotuned Voices And Delay (2023), Lisel transforms pop into a canvas for operatic storytelling. Along with making her own work, Bagg is a classical singer working in baroque and contemporary experimental opera, and with her project Lisel, she seeks to develop new, expressive qualities out of ancient vocal techniques from the Baroque and Renaissance periods. Her opera experience has infused her with a desire for a big, cinematic sound and holistic world-building, creating a “total artwork,” and she fits that medium into the form of a solo project. From haunting whispers to soaring melodies, she reaches back towards ancient musical traditions while incorporating futuristic sounds in order to imagine how a possible future might look back at contemporary existence. Dystopic stories melt into pop songs, hammered to ruin. Both through sonics and lyrics, the album recounts urgent narratives as ancient mythological fables, chronicling in operatic density the deepening awareness of the world’s looming, inevitable vanishing point. Photographer Carla Rossi further builds Lisel’s world through a series of photographs that similarly draw on Renaissance and Medieval painting, while placing them aesthetically in a digital realm. In these dramatic, hyper-stylized photos, Lisel takes up classical poses and yields iconographic symbols, further exploring the dissonance in her work as these manufactured “paintings” recall storytelling of the past while depicting images from an imagined future.

‘What makes Sex Swing so powerful is that they transcend the limitations of rock music. Their sound is so full of possibilities, violence, sexuality, sacrifice, even religion. If there was a future to look forward to for heavy guitar music, this is it’ The Quietus The locals call it Sop Ruak – eighty thousand square miles of mountains and mystery and unholy medicine. “It really is an endless seam of activity,” Sex Swing frontman Dan Chandler explains of Golden Triangle – both the title of their new album and the region between Myanmar, Thailand and Laos that inspired it. To know this contradictory corner of the world is to understand fully why the cult-beloved noise-rock artisans turned to it when writing their hotly-anticipated third full-length. The real-life Golden Triangle is a groundswell of both natural wonder and drug production, and who combines beauty and narcotic brutality better than Sex Swing? For a decade now, this
collective of revered UK underground musicians, comprising members of Earth, Mugstar, The Keep and Jaaw, have been pulling audiences into drug- like slipstreams with their alchemy of pummelling rhythms, towering guitars, and unrelenting saxophone through which glimmers of light occasionally pierce through. No wonder their Golden Triangle is an album telling distortion-shrouded tales from one of the most storied, enigmatic places on the planet, with enough invention within to fill eighty thousand miles and more.
Where does this violent, hypnotic aural travelogue take you within the Sop Ruak? The seven tracks that make up The Golden Triangle see the band – completed by bassist Jason Stoll, drummer Stuart Bell, guitarist Jodie Cox, synthesist/guitarist Oli Knowles and saxophonist Colin Webster – adventure first to ‘The Confluence of the Ruak and Mekong Rivers,’ full of shimmering orchestration and feather-light ambience. Then come stops in ‘Myawaddy’, named after a small town embroiled in bloodshed on the border of Myanmar
and Thailand, and ‘Boten, Route 13’ – sparked by stories of a seemingly endless stretch of road from Laos into China. Before long, listeners are plunged into ‘Hpakant’, one of the album’s most invigorating and singular moments, lyrically inspired by a jade mine in Myanmar, where the spoils of forced labour are exchanged for prostitution and methanphetamine. The result is a mesmerising slow-burn of sax, snaking rhythms and sinister spoken word courtesy of the Scottish-born Bruce McClure, who “took the theme and turned it into a sci-fi story of exploitation and vice,” explains the frontman. It’s a track that, like the rest of Golden Triangle, underlines the evolution Sex Swing have undertaken since forming in 2014. From the raw and primitive sounds of the self-titled debut full-length, followed up by the coruscatingType II in 2020. Sex Swing’s third effort retains those early primitive elements and adds layers of structure and complexity. Golden Triangle initial formation was that of programmed beats and bedroom recordings shared electronically in the height of the pandemic. Those ideas were then completed during intensive writing sessions at a secluded farm in Oxfordshire.
Album credits consist of recording by Stanley Gravett at Holy Mountain Studios in Hackney, mixing by Wayne Adams at Bear Bites Horse, mastering from James Plotkin, and the continued aesthetic collaboration with artist Alex Bunn. Golden Triangle bristles with a rawness familiar to fans of the British sonic punishers, but adds new elements indicative of a group never resting on their laurels or sitting in one place. Why would they, after all? There’s an entire world of mountains and mystery and unholy medicine out there to be explored. The Golden Triangle, it seems, is just the beginning.

‘What makes Sex Swing so powerful is that they transcend the limitations of rock music. Their sound is so full of possibilities, violence, sexuality, sacrifice, even religion. If there was a future to look forward to for heavy guitar music, this is it’ The Quietus The locals call it Sop Ruak – eighty thousand square miles of mountains and mystery and unholy medicine. “It really is an endless seam of activity,” Sex Swing frontman Dan Chandler explains of Golden Triangle – both the title of their new album and the region between Myanmar, Thailand and Laos that inspired it. To know this contradictory corner of the world is to understand fully why the cult-beloved noise-rock artisans turned to it when writing their hotly-anticipated third full-length. The real-life Golden Triangle is a groundswell of both natural wonder and drug production, and who combines beauty and narcotic brutality better than Sex Swing? For a decade now, this
collective of revered UK underground musicians, comprising members of Earth, Mugstar, The Keep and Jaaw, have been pulling audiences into drug- like slipstreams with their alchemy of pummelling rhythms, towering guitars, and unrelenting saxophone through which glimmers of light occasionally pierce through. No wonder their Golden Triangle is an album telling distortion-shrouded tales from one of the most storied, enigmatic places on the planet, with enough invention within to fill eighty thousand miles and more.
Where does this violent, hypnotic aural travelogue take you within the Sop Ruak? The seven tracks that make up The Golden Triangle see the band – completed by bassist Jason Stoll, drummer Stuart Bell, guitarist Jodie Cox, synthesist/guitarist Oli Knowles and saxophonist Colin Webster – adventure first to ‘The Confluence of the Ruak and Mekong Rivers,’ full of shimmering orchestration and feather-light ambience. Then come stops in ‘Myawaddy’, named after a small town embroiled in bloodshed on the border of Myanmar
and Thailand, and ‘Boten, Route 13’ – sparked by stories of a seemingly endless stretch of road from Laos into China. Before long, listeners are plunged into ‘Hpakant’, one of the album’s most invigorating and singular moments, lyrically inspired by a jade mine in Myanmar, where the spoils of forced labour are exchanged for prostitution and methanphetamine. The result is a mesmerising slow-burn of sax, snaking rhythms and sinister spoken word courtesy of the Scottish-born Bruce McClure, who “took the theme and turned it into a sci-fi story of exploitation and vice,” explains the frontman. It’s a track that, like the rest of Golden Triangle, underlines the evolution Sex Swing have undertaken since forming in 2014. From the raw and primitive sounds of the self-titled debut full-length, followed up by the coruscatingType II in 2020. Sex Swing’s third effort retains those early primitive elements and adds layers of structure and complexity. Golden Triangle initial formation was that of programmed beats and bedroom recordings shared electronically in the height of the pandemic. Those ideas were then completed during intensive writing sessions at a secluded farm in Oxfordshire.
Album credits consist of recording by Stanley Gravett at Holy Mountain Studios in Hackney, mixing by Wayne Adams at Bear Bites Horse, mastering from James Plotkin, and the continued aesthetic collaboration with artist Alex Bunn. Golden Triangle bristles with a rawness familiar to fans of the British sonic punishers, but adds new elements indicative of a group never resting on their laurels or sitting in one place. Why would they, after all? There’s an entire world of mountains and mystery and unholy medicine out there to be explored. The Golden Triangle, it seems, is just the beginning.

2024 repress

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Tales" is back in action with the third volume...this time we pass through Naples, a city that has made a strong contribution to the electronic music scene, with tales from Marsupials, The Mechanical Man feat. Melloghetto, MAN-D.A. and L.D.F.

ColorJaxx' latest offering, the 'Tales Of Never' EP, seamlessly melts into Flipsight's signature style. Born out of the atmosphere of local parties organized by the label, it narrates the essence of your ideal weekend.
Kickstarting your unwind session with the melancholic 'Tales Of Never', a track that sets the tone for relaxation after a hectic week. However, don't linger too long: 'Night After Night' counters this mood with a joyful bliss of a sunny Saturday! The A-side of the vinyl paves the way for the club-ready B-side. 'Here For You', a classic house tune, brings the four-by-four energy to the dancefloor, while 'There is Something' wraps up the EP with an after-hours ambiance, leaving a sense of euphoria for those still awake. It's a must-have addition to any electronic music enthusiast's collection.