Suche:embrace

Wasteland is a record that is unafraid to plunge into the darkness of the modern world and embrace the weirder, edgier and more unnerving moments that come from doing so. It is an album that captures all the enormity of life from the micro to the macro, zooming in on the personal as well reflecting on broader societal issues.

“Wasteland is about the idea of a place once known or familiar that is now broken down and unrecognisable,” says Ghedi. “It’s about exploring the process of watching someone’s surroundings and environment collapse.” And within that you have a lot going on. “It also explores death, personal loss, grief, mental health and how the natural world provides solace and meaning for that loss and how these worlds blur into one another.”
Ghedi has always been an artist that in many ways perfectly encompasses folk music in its purest form but he is also someone that frequently pushes the boundaries of that label and no more so is that apparent than on this record. As like previous albums, such as 2018’s A Hymn for Ancient Land and 2021’s In the Furrows of Common Place, Ghedi uses traditional folk songs as a means to explore contemporary issues via modern and experimentally-leaning music. “With the traditional material on this album I wanted to find songs with content that resonated with me,” says Ghedi. “But also that were based roughly around the north of England.” This is a central underlying theme to the album for Ghedi. The feelings of loss, erosion, and degradation are often most pronounced in working class communities and this was something he wanted to weave in. “It was important to voice and choose material that represented or expressed issues that correlated with things going on around me.”

However, as remarkable as some of the traditional material is, some of the most arresting work on the album is Ghedi’s entirely original compositions. Lead single ‘Wasteland’ is a stunning piece of work that while rooted in an environment being corrupted and broken – “there’s violence on these hills” Ghedi sorrowfully sings, before claiming this is no longer somewhere that can be called home – it is also a stirringly beautiful composition that soars and glides as it opens up, as sweeping strings swoop and in and out of Ghedi’s twangy electric guitar.

The decision to incorporate more fuller sounds, such as electric guitar and huge drums, results in a notable shift and evolution in tone for Ghedi. “The lyrical content needed something more band-driven and loud to deliver them,” he explains. “Incorporating the electric guitar in my songwriting was also a big part of opening the sound up, using drop tunings pushed me to use my voice in a wider range, which forced me to use falsetto a lot which I haven’t previously done before. That then opened the sound up and gave me creative ideas for bigger arrangements and to sonically really push things.”

What Ghedi has done in creating his masterpiece is construct a remarkable space where deeply intimate and personal feelings coexist with reflections on environment, place and society, while also interweaving historical context via traditional songs. Wasteland is as much of a world to explore and exist in as much as it is an album, with Ghedi carving out his distinctly unique sonic language and voice to explore that singular environment.

Wasteland is a record that is unafraid to plunge into the darkness of the modern world and embrace the weirder, edgier and more unnerving moments that come from doing so. It is an album that captures all the enormity of life from the micro to the macro, zooming in on the personal as well reflecting on broader societal issues.

“Wasteland is about the idea of a place once known or familiar that is now broken down and unrecognisable,” says Ghedi. “It’s about exploring the process of watching someone’s surroundings and environment collapse.” And within that you have a lot going on. “It also explores death, personal loss, grief, mental health and how the natural world provides solace and meaning for that loss and how these worlds blur into one another.”
Ghedi has always been an artist that in many ways perfectly encompasses folk music in its purest form but he is also someone that frequently pushes the boundaries of that label and no more so is that apparent than on this record. As like previous albums, such as 2018’s A Hymn for Ancient Land and 2021’s In the Furrows of Common Place, Ghedi uses traditional folk songs as a means to explore contemporary issues via modern and experimentally-leaning music. “With the traditional material on this album I wanted to find songs with content that resonated with me,” says Ghedi. “But also that were based roughly around the north of England.” This is a central underlying theme to the album for Ghedi. The feelings of loss, erosion, and degradation are often most pronounced in working class communities and this was something he wanted to weave in. “It was important to voice and choose material that represented or expressed issues that correlated with things going on around me.”

However, as remarkable as some of the traditional material is, some of the most arresting work on the album is Ghedi’s entirely original compositions. Lead single ‘Wasteland’ is a stunning piece of work that while rooted in an environment being corrupted and broken – “there’s violence on these hills” Ghedi sorrowfully sings, before claiming this is no longer somewhere that can be called home – it is also a stirringly beautiful composition that soars and glides as it opens up, as sweeping strings swoop and in and out of Ghedi’s twangy electric guitar.

The decision to incorporate more fuller sounds, such as electric guitar and huge drums, results in a notable shift and evolution in tone for Ghedi. “The lyrical content needed something more band-driven and loud to deliver them,” he explains. “Incorporating the electric guitar in my songwriting was also a big part of opening the sound up, using drop tunings pushed me to use my voice in a wider range, which forced me to use falsetto a lot which I haven’t previously done before. That then opened the sound up and gave me creative ideas for bigger arrangements and to sonically really push things.”

What Ghedi has done in creating his masterpiece is construct a remarkable space where deeply intimate and personal feelings coexist with reflections on environment, place and society, while also interweaving historical context via traditional songs. Wasteland is as much of a world to explore and exist in as much as it is an album, with Ghedi carving out his distinctly unique sonic language and voice to explore that singular environment.

Oceanine, Jolanda Moletta’s third album and her first for Beacon Sound, is a powerful and ethereal statement of artistic community. Expanding on her previous work, each track represents a collaboration with a different female vocalist, with the foundational elements being generated entirely by her own voice. By turns haunting, enchanting, and inspiring, you won’t want to come up for air once you’ve been pulled under. Representing a
musical practice that is distinctly feminist, this is an album with a longer view in mind, to an age when the altars were to goddesses and women were centered as powerful beings representing the earth’s cycles of regeneration and renewal. Oceanine then, in all its beauty, can be viewed as an album of survival. It is deeply transportive, accessing something that lies within all of us. As the late, great Lithuanian folklorist and archaeologist Marija Gimbutas noted, “We must refocus our collective memory. The necessity for this has never been greater as we discover that the path of 'progress' is extinguishing the very conditions for life on earth.”

Jolanda Moletta is a multimedia artist and one-woman electronic choir. She creates wordless compositions through extended vocal techniques, integrating wearable-controlled live processing, alongside symbolic visuals. Moletta considers her performances to be a collective ritual and creates her Sonic & Visual Spells following the cycles of nature and the moon. Jolanda's 2022 critically acclaimed album Nine Spells was released on the Ambientologist label, followed by Night Caves on Whitelabrecs in 2025. Moletta’s artistic practice is a radical and spiritual journey through sound art, ritual, and the symbolic archaeology of the feminine.

Oceanine is inspired by sirens, water nymphs, and the timeless call of the sea. At its core lies Jolanda’s deep, lifelong connection to the Mediterranean Sea and to the ancient and modern myths and folklore that have emerged from its waters. Growing up by the Mar Ligure, Jolanda was surrounded by stories carried by salt, wind, and waves: legends of sirens, echoes of ancient voices, and the sea as both origin and oracle. This intimate relationship with the Mediterranean is not merely a backdrop, but a living source that shapes Oceanine’s emotional, symbolic, and sonic world.

Each track features a different female vocalist, creating a rich tapestry of voices, styles, and perspectives. This artistic choice not only broadens the album’s sonic palette, but also deepens its narrative core: celebrating the power, beauty, and mystique of feminine energy through myth, history, and sound.

The entire album is built exclusively from the human voice, processed and layered, yet always remaining voice, and nothing else. For each piece, Jolanda invited every vocalist involved to contribute a raw stem: a short, unedited melodic fragment of just a few seconds, inspired by the album’s themes. These intimate vocal seeds became the foundation of each track: the guest artists’ voices appear as brief, melodic stems, while the entire surrounding “orchestral” fabric is created solely from Jolanda’s own layered and processed voice. In this way, Jolanda’s voice becomes the Ocean itself, embracing, absorbing, and carrying the sirens’ calls within a vast, immersive soundscape. Every song is a unique expression of the feminine experience, revealing its depth, complexity, and emotional range, echoing the call of the sea and the many faces of the siren archetype.

The figure of the siren has transformed across centuries. In myths of Ancient Greece and Rome, sirens were hybrid beings, part woman, part bird, whose irresistible songs lured sailors to their doom. During the Middle Ages, the image shifted toward the half-woman, half-fish figure, often associated with temptation and danger. Historically, the voice of women has often been feared. Sirens were considered harbingers of misfortune not simply because they seduced or destroyed, but because they were powerful liminal beings.

In Ancient Greek, sirens functioned as psychopomps: figures who existed between worlds and guided souls, especially between life and death. Their songs were believed to carry forbidden knowledge, including prophetic insight and the ability to reveal truths about fate and the future. The danger of the sirens lay in what they revealed: knowledge that humans were not meant, or ready, to hear.

Oceanine confronts this legacy head-on. The voices heard throughout the album are not merely beautiful: they are dark and luminous, wild and enchanting, magical, soothing, dreamy, and at times fractured or distorted. They whisper, lament, beckon, and enchant. Like sirens, they skim the surface of the water and sink into its depths, hovering on the edge between tenderness and danger, vulnerability and power. They rise toward the sky, dissolve into mist, and return as echoes charged with raw, elemental emotion: voices that seduce, warn, mourn, and remember. They refuse to be reduced to decoration.

Alongside the album’s release in May, Oceanine will also unfold as a visual and performative work through a short art film. The film includes a live session recorded inside a sea cave facing the Mar Ligure, the very coastline where Jolanda spent her childhood, dreaming of sirens and listening to the sea as if it were speaking directly to her. This site-specific performance reconnects the music to its place of origin, allowing the voice to resonate within stone, water, and air, and transforming the cave into both a sanctuary and a threshold between myth and reality.

What if the sirens’ songs were considered dangerous because they carried another truth, an ancient truth long forgotten?

Oceanine embraces the idea that we are still deeply woven into myth. Though we may see ourselves as rational and modern beings, our world is saturated with ancient symbols and archetypes, often distorted, simplified, or stripped of their original meaning. And if those symbols are allowed to shift, if the mirror once held by the siren becomes an invitation to look beyond appearances and into what has been obscured, then we may finally uncover a deeper truth and reclaim the voice that was always ours.

Oceanine is not just an album. It is a reclamation, a spell, and a call from the depths.

Iconic Atlanta quintet SEVENDUST is back with its 15th studio album, ONE, set for release on May 1, 2026 via Napalm Records. The upcoming full-length LP forges ten simultaneously lean and gut-punching tracks out of gargantuan riffs, seismic grooves, and signature soul-stirring hooks, once again produced by Michael “Elvis” Baskette (Alter Bridge, Falling In Reverse, Mammoth). The group, comprised of Lajon Witherspoon (vocals), Clint Lowery (lead guitar, backing vocals), John Connolly (lead guitar, backing vocals), Vince Hornsby (bass), and Morgan Rose (drums), busts down the door with the first single “Is This The Real You”. Its swaggering fretwork alternately wallops and gallops in lockstep with a pummeling rhythm anchored by thunderous drums. The riff rolls and seethes, and the vocals swing from guttural growls into the embrace of a jazz-y chantable chorus.

A hummable lead ties the bridge together. Echoes of a tensely picked single-note set the tone for “Threshold.” Lajon’s delicate delivery gives way to a contentious distortion-boosted refrain. Then, there’s “Unbreakable,” which has all the makings of a clarion call for the collective and a future live staple. Strains of soft piano slip into the undertow of a towering hook punctuated by a promise, “We were meant to be unbreakable… even when we’re at our lowest lows. And if it gets too cold, I’ll never let you go.” The title track succinctly sums up the record as a whole. Bellowing out of a maelstrom of roaring distortion, Lajon’s voice reaches heavenly heights. For over three decades, SEVENDUST have made countless fans feel a part of something special. The group’s community isn’t passive. Members of the “7D Army” make a very active commitment to being part of this family – as evinced by sold-out shows worldwide and innumerable tattoos of the band’s logo and lyrics. Since 1994, the band has quietly built a legacy without parallel, encompassing sales of nearly eight million albums, a GRAMMY® Award nomination for “Best Metal Performance,” three Top 15 entries on the Billboard 200, hundreds of millions of streams, and the fierce loyalty of millions of listeners in every corner of the globe.

Masterful composer- improviser DoYeon Kim is an unparalleled practitioner of the Korean gayageum (a silk-string zither), and is also in possession of a purposeful vocal intensity. This is her debut album as a bandleader, featuring fellow master musicians Tyshawn Sorey (drums), Mat Maneri (viola), Henry Fraser (bass). Armed with an unlikely traditional instrument, flanked by three extraordinary improvisers, radiating a brash, acoustic strategy that simultaneously invokes folk universalism and a No Wave battle- stance, the Brooklyn- based virtuoso will drop a volcanic sonic statement with grand humanist goals on May 1. Kim mingles Korean lullabies, fervent interactions between drums and strings, and pure instrumental expressions of musical self. At times, she sounds like she can halt armies. Wellspring is a call for society to come together.

How the Seoul, South Korea- born 34- year- old came to be the centuries- old zither's leading (only?) practitioner of contemporary improvised music, reflects an expansive embrace of her own culture, her place in modern society, and her ascending recognition of music's liberatory power. DoYeon Kim 's teachers at Seoul National University recognized that her roving musical mind - less interested in ancient repertoire than in speaking to the modern world - needed challenges. America beckoned, with the New England Conservatory offering a non- ethnomusicological pathway via its Contemporary Improvisation department. It set off a process of analysing, absorbing, digesting, and, most of all, listening. Under the guidance of NEC instructor and legendary guitarist Joe Morris, in came the methodologies of Ornette, Braxton and Derek Bailey, to name a few.

""Neverland", the fourteenth studio album by ULVER is the sound of an escape. A journey into undiscovered lands.

Following three albums – "The Assassination of Julius Caesar" (2017), "Flowers of Evil" (2020), and "Liminal Animals" (2024) – rooted in more traditional song and production structures, "Neverland" marks a new chapter in the revered Oslo band's history.

"With 'Neverland' we embraced a more 'punk' spirit – more dreaming, less discipline – freer, quite simply", the band comments on the creative process behind the album.

Bursts of daybreak synths and whooshes of sound set the atmosphere, before the wolves start digging into the dynamics of ambient calm and anarchic mysticism. Dreamy and transportive textures develop into trippy percussive energies, and as the album unfolds, a lush and vibrant, and at times exotic space opens.

Apart from a few recurring distant voices and vocal chops, "Neverland" is a largely instrumental record, reminiscent of the mood and structure of that place where late '90s IDM sounds met the meandering structures of post-rock.

The ghost of premillennial sample culture surely haunts "Neverland", and some might even hear echoes from earlier acclaimed works like "Perdition City" (2000), or the "Silence" EPs (2001), or more recently "ATGCLVLSSCAP" (2016).

Still, "Neverland" sounds and feels like something else, something fresh in ULVER's continuous journey of perennial reinvention. Pop music from in-between worlds? A sonic hallucination? Or better: a collage of dreams. It's up to you."

The new album by Mecánica Clásica, Una Teoría del Ritmo, unfolds across nine tracks as an intimate and organic rhythmic landscape. Rhythm is not something to be counted or measured, it's an odd power that shapes life and nature. Embracing rhythm is a wild experience rather than a technical concept.

The album emphasizes its strong subjectivity: rhythm exists deep within the self and at the core of perceived phenomena and listening itself transforms that kaleidoscopic perception.

Moving against cold conceptualism, Una Teoría del Ritmo embraces a truly warm and intense space, seeking a path where listeners can feel a special energy through hypnotic, melodic and percussive sound waves in a cosmic and naturalistic way.

Courtney Marie Andrews has long been celebrated as an artist who challenges herself, and who finds new interplays of Folk and Americana.. Also a vivid poet and accomplished painter, she brings a multidisciplinary richness to her work that shines throughout her 9th studio album, Valentine. Co-produced with Jerry Bernhardt and recorded almost entirely to tape, the album features complete in-studio performances that prize raw performance rather than perfection. It is Andrews’s most sonically explorative record thus far – she plays flute, high strung guitars, myriad synths, and draws heavy inspiration from her art outside of music. Her voice is gorgeous and acrobatic always, but on Valentine it finds a new depth, an assertiveness that brings new dimension to its biggest anthems and its softest moments. Written during a period of profound endings and new beginnings, Valentine is a vulnerable exploration of love vs. limerence. While anticipating the imminent loss of a loved one who would eventually recover, a new but uncertain romance began to develop. Rather than lift her up, the two emotional poles seemed to bleed into each other to sow doubt, trouble, even obsession. But through her own exploration of music and art, Andrews found a way to grow stronger inside this feeling. “I didn’t want to slink into my pain, I wanted to embrace it, own it” she says. The songs that emerged are devotional in their lyrics but defiant in their energy; it’s the very sound of a woman standing in her first wisdom. With Valentine, Andrews rejects the objectification of love, the love filled with gestures and objects instead of trust, mess, and growth. In doing so, she delivers her most beautiful and loving album to date.

Rave At Your Fictional Borders is not beyond borders. The band simply denies any notion thereof. Driven by a sense of community, it defines human existence as one bio-organism with planet Earth. Now comprising members Dave De Rose, Marius Mathiszik, and Salim Akki, this incarnation of Rave At Your Fictional Borders first released the 'Entanglement' and 'Utopia' tracks in March 2025. Analogue Nomadism is the project's first album release. Recorded in Morocco and then co-produced and mixed by Dan Nicholls, it is an album of dizzying, trance-inducing scope. Rave music stripped of all external signifiers. Repetition, noise, krautrock, avant-garde sensibilities. This is a search for a groove that both connects and interlocks. The soul of improvisation and exploration runs through all seven pieces on Analogue Nomadism. Genres are referenced and transcended. The open-ended is perpetually embraced.

It is neither night nor day, but there is a half-light all the time. What used to be disconcerting is now not alien anymore. The sky boasts a faint light. Certain shapes are laid out, but get changed through communal ritual. Analogue Nomadism is the music of a feeling of community. It builds and breaks down. It is accepting of the psychedelic standards of the groove. Transportative and vertiginous. Endless.

Artist and multi-instrumentalist Flaer looks to the landscape to explore pastoral melancholy on debut release, Preludes. It is released in a second edition black vinyl, with an alternate cover artwork.

Ensconced in his family home in rural Leicestershire in the early months of 2020, painter and musician Realf Heygate (b. 1994) picked up his childhood cello for the first time in several years and began to play. Setting himself parameters to only record onto 4-track tape with acoustic instruments – cello, piano and acoustic guitar – he assembled a suite of instrumental compositions that form the basis of Preludes, his debut album as Flaer and the inaugural release on Odda Recordings.

Channelling the tension and unease between the pastoral idyll of the English countryside and the darkness which lurks beneath the surface, the mini-album draws inspiration from the analogue aesthetic of 1970s folk horror films, weaving field recordings of birdsong, church bells and the natural environment into chimerical melodies that reflect on Heygate’s childhood experiences of rural England.

“It was really important not to isolate the sound from its environment,” he explains, describing the compositional and recording process as “site-specific”. Developed over a series of intuitive musical enquiries, the mini-album’s uncanny quality emerges from combining raw demo takes with overdubs of almost orchestral grandeur.

Heygate points to the final track as indicative of the work as a whole: “‘Follow’ really is the mantra for the release and embodies the practical approach I was taking to music making: not to force the music but see where it takes you.”

As a painter, Heygate’s practice takes artefacts through sequences of reproduction that embrace the fluctuating materiality of the copy. Since obtaining a degree in Fine Art from Central Saint Martins in 2017, he has exhibited solo at Peter von Kant and Springseason galleries in London, and has participated in group shows at Saatchi Gallery, Cob Gallery and Senesi Contemporanea.

Describing his artistic practice as one of self-erasure, music instead provides Heygate with a more personal and autobiographical outlet. Where the two worlds combine is on Preludes’ striking artwork, which features paintings of 13th century stone carvings from the font of the church in the town where he grew up.

Speaking to a time where people were connected to the land in a more profound way, each symbol is assigned to a track on the album, which Heygate likens to giving them a title.

“To add that one juxtaposition might open a whole new interpretation or language that might be hard to find otherwise,” he explains.“Over time it might reveal itself to you, which is why I'm excited about it being released. To throw them out there and see what comes of it.”

Fresh from releasing projects on Method 808 and Future Classic, landing a huge collaboration with Chloé Caillet, and delivering an official remix for Fatboy Slim, PPJ are entering a new chapter in full force. Their expansive take on global street sounds, ranging from neoperreo to Miami bass, gets a cool re-coating.

Led by the magnetic vocalist Páula, with production from Povoa (individually supported by Four Tet, Ben UFO, and Barry Can't Swim, with recent releases on Live From Earth), the duo operates in maximalist mode: playful, sensual, and slightly unhinged.PPJ’s new era, JOKER, embraces a figure that appears everywhere from card decks to carnival culture as a symbol that mirrors their own DNA: funny, eerie, seductive, unpredictable. The EP leans further into club territory, but rather than polishing their edges, PPJ amplify them.

At the emotional core of the record sits “Coeur,” co-produced with Chloé Caillet. It begins with an MPB-tinged foundation flirting with bossa nova. It’s unmistakably Brazilian, bathed in sunset hues before being sped up and twisted into a dance-floor-ready electronic form. The groove shimmers with tension: warm percussion, elastic basslines, and Páula’s voice hovering between intimacy and tease. It feels like a remix of itself, romantic, but slightly untrustworthy.

If “Coeur” glows, “To Nem Ai” is a slow burner. A very deep and downtempo house cut, it unfolds slowly, almost luxuriously, guided by sensual vocals that feel whispered directly into the ear of the listener. A hypnotizing piano sample that feels like a late-night confession. It’s the kind of record that transforms a dancefloor into something tactile.

Elsewhere, “Me Pega” is a high-energy reinterpretation of the tech-house sounds from Santa Catarina, one of southern Brazil’s most feverish party states, twisted and accelerated for ferocious impact. Drawing direct inspiration from Sarro, a raw and vibrant Brazilian street dance, the track captures physical intensity in its purest form: sweat, bass pressure, collective release.

Its counterpart, “Tem Carnaval” channels Páula’s vivid storytelling into a thunderous ode to Rio’s carnival spirit, euphoric, chaotic, cinematic landed just in time for this year’s celebrations.

On “Sexy Doce,” rugged electroclash melodies collide with unexpected references. “It was inspired by Budots, which is dance music from the streets in the Philippines,” Povoa explains. “Then we mixed it with Páula’s Brazilian vocals. Baile funk is similarly from the streets, so there is a connection.” The result is raw yet futuristic, a cross-continental flirtation that feels both underground and explosive.

With this new EP, PPJ make music like they’re tuning into a dozen pirate frequencies at once. Pirate radio from Rio to Berlin to Manila intercepting fragments of street culture, sensuality, and chaos, and stitching them into something deliriously cohesive.
JOKER doesn’t just nod to club culture. It challenges it, twists expectation and leaves a lasting impression.

A personal record for Mike shaped by memory, places, and renewal. Walking the streets of his birthplace, St. Louis, Zito reconnects with the sounds, stories, and hard lessons that forged his signature blend of soul-driven blues and fearless storytelling. Thirteen years after Gone to Texas, this album feels like a defining moment, marking a new chapter for Mike, his family, and a life reclaimed in the city that started it all. The songs paint vivid snapshots of city life and personal reckoning, from late- night regret and self-awareness to raw portraits of neighbourhood survival and street-level truth. Tracks like "Downtown at Midnight" and "Grand Avenue" capture the grit, temptation, and consequences of the past with unflinching honesty, grounding the album in lived experience and emotional weight . Zito's writing is direct and cinematic, pairing tough reflection with compassion and hard-earned wisdom.

At its heart, Outside Or The Eastside is a celebration of second chances, an album dedicated to better days, family, friendship, love, and joy found in everyday moments. Life's unpredictable paths open doors you never expect, and for Mike Zito, this record embraces that truth with warmth, humour, and swagger. It's a record about choosing connection over chaos and moving forward with gratitude, purpose, and the volume turned up

For their second full-length album, Under My Umbrella, Miss Grit has lifted the lid on their internal world, lasering in on the anxieties and heartbreak of the past two years, following their acclaimed debut Follow the Cyborg.

On this album, Margaret Sohn – aka Miss Grit (they/she) – channels the noirish atmosphere of classic trip-hop bands, while adding a hefty dose of maximalism and a dream-pop sensibility. The title is a nod to the iconic Rihanna song and embraces Sohn “…letting people in more on this record and trying not to shy away from that. I’m leaving the cyborg behind, I’m letting it all out.”

This record started to take shape when Sohn returned from an intense touring schedule where they’d driven themself around North America totally alone. When they returned home, Sohn found themselves yearning to capture that specific, less restrained energy of playing live.

Under My Umbrella not only presents Sohn’s gift for complex production, but also the boldness of finding your voice, and ultimately is about coming to terms with yourself, your imperfections, and your complex interior world.

Molécule is a French artist, musician and sound explorer whose radical approach consists in going on expeditions to record nature in situ and transforming these raw materials into music.

On board a fishing trawler in the Atlantic Ocean, he created 60°43' Nord using the brutal sounds of a raging sea and the daily life of sailors. In Greenland, he composed -22.7°C deep within the ice pack, capturing silence, polar winds and the cracking of the ice itself. In Nazaré, he immersed himself in the world of giant waves, translating the ocean's raw energy into sound.
Positioned at the crossroads of technology, environmental concerns and sonic creation, Molécule embraces an innovative and committed artistic vision. Constantly pushing technical boundaries, he designs and experiments with advanced recording and production systems to expand the possibilities of sound capture.
At a time when many artists are shaped by standardized formats, Molécule stands apart through an authentic, immersive practice rooted in real-life experience. His work is built directly in contact with the elements and the places he inhabits, resulting in a singular body of work shaped by the physical reality of the world. This project presents a selection of studio productions developed in parallel with Molécule's soundfield recording expeditions. Here, he unveils five unreleased tracks, revealing his techno DNA in its most rough and raw form.
Designed for the dancefloor, these high-impact productions feature sharp BPMs and stripped-back energy, released on Lumière Noire, the label founded by Chloé.

Brisk is the debut album by Polish-Hungarian flutist Juli Deák (*2000), based in Budapest. Comprised of seven solo flute pieces, the album offers a concentrated snapshot of Deák’s musical world—one shaped by classical training, experimentation, improvisation, and folk influences.

The project began taking shape in 2021, as Deák moved away from the polished ideals of classical performance toward a more personal and exploratory approach. Early fragments only revealed their meaning in front of an audience, whose responses encouraged her to continue developing the material. With over 15 years of musical experience, Deák combines technical precision with a willingness to embrace vulnerability and chance.

Breathing lies at the heart of Brisk. More than a functional necessity, it becomes an expressive and structural force. Through close listening, breath feels tactile and intimate, placing the performer almost within reach. Techniques such as circular breathing, overblowing, harmonics, singing while playing, and wind tones allow the flute to unfold into multiple voices, while percussive key clicks provide a steady rhythmic pulse.

Deák foregrounds sounds often excluded from classical music—breathy tones, unstable pitches, squeaks, and audible inhalations—treating them as essential expressive tools. This focus reflects her long-term exploration of the flute’s physical and expressive limits and connects directly to her ongoing solo practice, The Breathing Project, of which Brisk is a distilled release.

Active across classical, contemporary, jazz, and experimental scenes, Deák has collaborated with ensembles including Konstmusik-systrar and the VENI ensemble, and performed at festivals such as Norbergfestival and Ung Nordisk Musik.

Across its seven pieces, Brisk balances immediacy and rigor, inviting focused listening while remaining open and bodily. It documents a musician in motion, attentive to sound as sensation, gesture, and breath, and committed to honesty

Venturing into “a limbo world between medieval tropes and modern-day decay”, New Orleans musician Urq (half of art punk duo Spllit) returns with a new solo offering. Recorded over a single, intense month, This Dismal Village is a homespun document that sits somewhere between jittery punk, dreary psychedelia, and hooky bedroom pop. Recorded to 4-track, the record embraces limitation as a creative engine, resulting in a sound that is raw, unsettled, and deeply atmospheric.

The album is set not in a fixed point in time or geography, but a liminal environment where dystopic visions and archaic fixtures exist side by side. In the dismal village, kings and witches share space with televisions, skyscrapers, and modern enterprise; organ fanfares echo down streets populated by disgruntled townsfolk and whispered gossip. It is simultaneously the dark ages, 1950s suburbia, and a 21st-century metropolis. Embracing anachronism was central to the project’s identity, an attempt to collapse history into a single, uneasy present.

Sonically and philosophically, the album sits firmly in the tradition of rough and raw cassette rock. Guided By Voices’ Bee Thousand looms large as an influence, particularly its ability to build an entire world through unpolished, first-take recordings. Robert Pollard’s idea of the “four P’s” (psych, punk, prog, and pop) serves as a neat summary of the artist’s musical instincts and each element can be traced right through the heart of This Dismal Village. Further inspiration comes from post-punk’s so-called “Calgary Sound,” a loose movement blending psych pop, post-punk, and math/prog elements with a home-recorded, unpretentious ethos.

The result is an album that unrolls like a place wandered through, uneasy, occasionally familiar, and impossible to pin down in time. All captured on tape before it could disappear like an apparition, like a dream only half-remembered.

Welcome to the mind-expanding 1968 jazz recording of Bill Plummer and The Cosmic Brotherhood—where Eastern and psychedelic influences meld together to produce one of the trippiest jazz albums on Impulse Records. This LP is a much-sought-after sonic travelogue, with the pop-psych spoken-word sitar freakout of “Journey To The East” to Bill Plummer’s swinging, rapid fire/cool jazz compositions, to his covers that go straight to the heart of any 60’s genre-crossing jazz fans. Featuring an incredible who's who of the high-caliber talent bubbling over in the Los Angeles music scene at the time: Carol Kaye (legendary bass player of The Wrecking Crew), Maurice Miller (drummer in The Jazz Corps), Dennis Budimir (guitarist with Chico Hamilton Quintet, Ravi Shankar & Frank Zappa), Mike Lang (Piano with Flamin’ Groovies & Hal Blaine), Tom Scott (Saxophone with Gabor Szabo & Thelonious Monk), Ray Neopolitan (Bass for The Doors & Leonard Cohen), Milt Holland (Percussionist with The Wrecking Crew &
Captain Beefheart), Bill Goodwin (Drums for Mose Allison & Tom Waits).
Housed in a beautiful gatefold sleeve with iconic liner notes by Frank Kofsky, who comes out swinging hard in favor of the album, while shaking the dust off any jazz snobs left in the '60s who still were not ready to embrace the future of jazz. Produced by Bob Thiele who produced everyone from John
Coltrane, Art Blakey to Charles Mingus, this sonic rarity is yet another impressive vinyl reissue from the folks at Jackpot Records.

Artist and multi-instrumentalist Flaer embraces the search for quiet miracles on first full-length LP Translations.

In 2023, Realf Heygate - who makes music as Flaer - released his debut mini-album Preludes, composed on his mother’s piano and his childhood cello.Returning to ODDA for his debut full-length album, Heygate is now looking in another direction. A record that embraces transition and movement, Translations is in many ways more internal, less rooted to a single place and reflective of the process of laying new foundations in Cornwall.

Like Preludes, Translations is coloured with found sounds and field recordings, from the starlings which can be heard singing through the open window of his studio, to the brittle recordings of his mother, who was a linguist, learning Spanish on a set of language tapes. In both cases, Heygate embraced the translations and memories inherent to the sounds.

“When I digitised my mother’s tapes, they warped and stuttered in a very similar way to the starling’s song,” he explains. “They had this uncanny rhythm and pulse that I couldn’t quite decode, but was saying something." These decayed transmissions hint at loss, resisting clarity in favour of the ineffable.

Translations is also a record of ambiguities and in-betweens, suggested by the double meaning of the album’s opening track ‘Entre’. At once intricate and expansive, threaded with birdsong and acoustic guitar motifs, this and ‘Starling Descends’ (a reference to Vaughan Williams’ ‘The Lark Ascending’) act as a bridge away from the pastoral themes of Preludes towards a more assertive sound. At times intimate in its textured instrumentation and at others more overtly grand in orchestration, reflecting awider palette of influences.

“Flaer began in many ways when I picked up my mother’s instruments, seeking a form of reconnection. Where words evaded me, they became the tools through which I found a language for grief – and above all, for love.”

Recorded between 2023 and 2025 – what Heygate calls “A gradual process of sowing and harvesting ideas rather than a single intense creative period” - each track follows a rhythm similar to the small maquettes and sculptures he has been working on in his visual practice, whereby structures and melodies form intuitively in moments that are as rare as they are fleeting.

“It's that feeling of searching that I really enjoy,” Heygate continues. “I never know what the destination of the composition is going to be, and I never really find what it is."

Translations is released on limited edition off-white vinyl LP (500 copies worldwide) with one of five signed and numbered handmade risograph prints. It's also available as standard black vinyl LP and digitally.

José González has delivered a new album, Against the Dying of the Light, a companion and further meditation on the themes of his critically acclaimed album, Local Valley. Where Local Valley turned inward toward place, language, and personal reflection, this new record widens its gaze, becoming an urgent call to preserve the light of humanity with all its flaws, at a moment when, technology increasingly shapes how we think, feel, and relate to one another.

While José has always embraced technological advancement, he questions the assumption that every new possibility must be pursued to its maximum potential, especially when progress comes at the expense of human flourishing, attention, and empathy.

Keeping in the tradition of folk music as protest, José’s new single — sharing its title with the forthcoming album — urges listeners to resist systems that dehumanize and divide: “Disconnect from every algorithm, every perverse incentive that drags you down. Let’s rebel against the replicators, against the dying of the light. Kill the codes that feed the hate, keep the codes that make you thrive, celebrate the **king fact that we’re alive.”

Across the album, González works within a deliberately minimal framework, pushing his familiar palette to new heights through subtle variation, restraint, and detail. Each song unfolds with its own distinct character, proving how much emotional and musical range can be achieved within self - imposed limitations. Written in English, Swedish, and Spanish, the record reflects his Swedish - Argentine roots and frames its humanist message as a global one rather than a purely personal or political statement.

José González is one of the most quietly influential artists of our generation. The Swedish - Argentine artist has built a singular musical world from hypnotic, minimal guitar work and his unmistakably gentle voice — a sound that has become deeply personal to millions of listeners worldwide. With billions of streams across platforms and hundreds of thousands of physical records sold, González’s songs often act as emotional landmarks. Ask almost anyone, and they can name at least one of his tracks tied to a defining moment in their lives.

Bristol experimental band SUGAR HORSE are delighted to announce that their third album, Not A Sound In Heaven, will be released on 10th April 2026 via Fat Dracula Records.

To celebrate the news, the band are sharing the bruising lead single ‘Secret Speech’, available to stream on all good digital service providers from 12th February 2026.

Also announced today are a run of April 2026 UK album headline tour dates and an appearance at StrangeForms Festival 2026, with tickets on sale now (see below for full listings).

“We are fortunate enough to live in what is generally known as ‘The West’,” says front man Ash Tubb of the lyrical themes behind the new track. “I say fortunate with gritted teeth, because I know—as I’m sure the reader knows—that living in the West isn’t always rosy. The vast majority of people struggle everyday to feed, clothe and house themselves. Let alone receive adequate healthcare, schooling and workers’ rights.”

“We are, however, where all the world’s wealth is hoarded. We are at the centre of Empire. The people outside of this empire—those of the Global South—have had their resources extracted and their populations exploited by our own governments, with very little given back in return. This won’t go on forever. It will inevitably end, as all great empires do.”

“We in The West have a choice to make in the meantime; either help create a new, fairer world, or let the greed of our ruling classes become the undoing of all of us.”

The first glimpse of new material from the quartet, ‘Secret Speech’ starts as Not A Sound In Heaven means to go on—a politically-charged wrecking ball of a song that smashes its way through the often unbelievable chaos and brutality of the 21st century with vitriolic malice.

How do you capture the machinations of the geo-political industrial war machine—and all the horrors that go with it—in the studio, without seeming trite or crass? That’s the question that Sugar Horse have posed themselves on their forthcoming third album Not A Sound In Heaven, and they must surely be one of the only bands in existence capable of delivering on just that premise with both musical substance and cutting philosophical insight.

“Ever since I was born I can remember visions of war, famine, and death being beamed directly into my living room via the magic of television,” says Tubb of the record. “These visions were accompanied by newsreader narratives designed to either humanise or dehumanise the people involved. We humanise our government’s allies and dehumanise their enemies. This is taken as common sense, or even wisdom to some degree. People watch the news and accept it as fact, simple and true.”

“As a person gets older they move in one of three different directions with this acceptance of reality; They embrace what they’re being told, they fall into a kind of trust free nihilism or they learn that there are deeper narratives at play.”

“Not A Sound In Heaven is an aged acceptance of the latter. An acceptance of sitting at the centre of a global empire of both military and economic dimensions. An acceptance that the stories we’re told as a nation, or what’s generally in the zeitgeist, isn’t necessarily reality itself.”

“How does a person cope with the weight—and, frankly, the guilt—of a society that perpetuates such distinct inequalities? A society that thinks a bit of killing abroad is fine, as long as it improves the lives of people at home. You can see why so many choose to embrace it. Hell, nihilism seems pretty sensible. Once a person decides upon pursuing a degree of truth however, things get a bit depressing. Beyond depressing...maddening.”

“This album explores this kind of breezy, frivolous subject matter in a manner that will no doubt be uplifting to the listener and massively financially rewarding for the artist.”

The new album follows on from their standalone AA single ‘What’s Your ETA? Let’s Have A Tear Up’/‘Would You Like Me To Be The Cat?’ which was released late last year as a surprise double drop.

Following the strong reception of their second album, Totem of Quiet Mystic (2023) Jiyu have earned praises from outlets such as Jazzwise, Enlace Funk and The Chillout Tent, as well as support from a wide range of iconic DJs including Patrick Forge & Chris Coco. The singles to this new album, Cumulus & the Subterranean, Smell of Fire and Deep Woods, have immediately been embraced—drawing glowing reactions and airplay from dj's like, Phil Cooper, Dj Vadim, Fred Everything, David Patterson, Jon Kennedy and Curtis Colin

On this third album from Jiyu, the Copenhagen band stretch their cosmic–spiritual jazz language into deeper, wilder terrain. Dropping April 10th on vinyl and digital via Dubsoul Records, the record captures six musicians in full telepathic flight, recorded at 12 Ton Studio in Copenhagen. Across eight tracks, elastic basslines, jazz-dub-soul—tinted drums and percussion, Wurlitzer and jazz-guitar glow and flute-swept atmospheres drift between grounded groove and open-sky improvisation, while guest vocalist Mai Lan Doky adds dreamlike textures on Cumulus & the Subterranean. From the shuffled broken-beat pulse of Smell of Fire to the slow-burn haze of Deep Woods, the Wild Things album is a rich analogue-soul excursion—earthy, exploratory and tuned to the outer frequencies.

The sibling duo behind the music on Graceful Degradation — organ and drums, nothing more, nothing less — carve out a sound that feels unmistakably organic in a world drifting steadily toward the synthetic. Their interplay is entirely live, subtle in its details yet dynamic in its momentum, built on the kind of instinctive communication only brothers can share.
The music is fully instrumental, unfolding in a borderland where dreamy retro pop dissolves into the hazy textures of shoegaze and the unruly pulse of noisy, electronic leaning jazz. It’s a sonic world that feels both familiar and elusive, nostalgic yet inherently restless. Melodies shimmer and blur, rhythms swell and contract, and the space between the notes becomes as expressive as the notes themselves.
What emerges is a sound that resists easy categorization: warm but unpredictable, intimate yet expansive, grounded in the physicality of two musicians performing in real time. The organ breathes like a living organism, shifting from soft focus ambience to swirling, saturated harmonics, while the drums move with a fluid, human elasticity — sometimes whisper quiet, sometimes erupting with raw, kinetic force.
In this in between terrain, the duo has always found its identity and its freedom. Their music doesn’t chase perfection; it chases presence. It embraces imperfection, celebrates spontaneity, and insists on staying alive in a landscape where so much is becoming weightless and automated.
This is instrumental music with a pulse: subtle, dynamic, and unmistakably human.

You probably have at least one friend who is completely obsessed with Marnie Weber. Her dark, punk-infused humour and fearless embrace of eccentric feminine power archetypes combine with gut-punch viscerality and a strange beauty that is anything but pretty.” Village Voice “This neo-gothic fairytale wavers between happiness and sadness, amusement and tragedy, attraction and repulsion.” The White Review “Weber reaches a new scale for her work…The sentimentality and romance at its root fearlessly sets it apart.” BOMB “Wild multimedia works that often dwell on the ghostly and the monstrous. Think: Fairy tales gone seriously awry.” LA Times Acclaimed LA multidisciplinary artist and musician Marnie Weber collects highlights from a long and storied career on Returning Home: The Music of Marnie Weber, a collection of neo-goth art-pop that steers between kankyō ongaku pop songs, noise-rock, and haunted fairytale darkness. The career of Marnie Weber (b. 1959) began with gigs paid in beer at an LA trucker bar in 1977. Her band, Party Boys, formed when Weber was then 19 and had just left home. By the early 80’s, the band began regularly performing at LA’s fabled Al’s Bar, sharing the stage with generational talents that passed over its beer-drenched floors. L7, Beck, Arto Lindsay, Ry Cooder, The Fall, Fear, Hole, Hüsker Dü, Social Distortion, Nirvana, The Residents, Sonic Youth, Urge Overkill, Jesus Lizard, the Misfits, among plenty more, played to audiences that included Bret Easton Ellis, Steve Buscemi, Tommy Lee, Bill Murray, Al Pacino, Sean Penn, and Chloe Sevigny.

JeGong, known for their immersive, rhythm-driven explorations of Krautrock and experimental sound design, now take an exhilarating leap into brighter, nostalgically stranger territory. `Gomi Kuzu Can` is an electrifying journey through Kraut, Post- and Experimental Rock, delivered with the analog warmth of the '70s. Across eleven meticulously crafted tracks, JeGong embrace their roots while fearlessly expanding into neon-lit, beat-driven worlds where kinetic rhythms meet playful sonic futurism. It is music built for movement, contemplation, and the ecstatic strangeness of possibility. Their approach borrows the endurance and patience of minimalism, but they subvert minimalism's austerity with grit, distortion, and physicality. The result is music that feels alive in motion: constantly shifting, tightening, unfurling, and mutating even when its core pulse remains unbroken. "We wanted to create a `70s sound as the recording foundation - a sonic aesthetic that sets a mood through warm tape saturation. Like a kind of memory box where you can store recollections, for example from childhood, when you would spend hours by yourself watching TV and listening to the radio, often both at the same time." (JeGong) `Gomi Kuzu Can`, is hand-built, lovingly assembled from circuitry, intuition, and raw creative impulse. This tactile quality is precisely what makes the album's danceability so impactful. In blending organic rhythm with retro-electronic brightness, they've created a sound that is both familiar and refreshingly new. In the end, JeGong's sound is less a genre and more a landscape: rugged, hypnotic, austere, and strangely spiritual. It is music built on the bones of rhythm and the electricity of repetition, crafted with the precision of engineers and the instincts of explorers. FOR FANS OF Neu!, Cluster, Tangerine Dream, Swans, Mogwai, Sonic Youth, John Zorn The single colour edition comes as Glass Clear vinyl!

José González has delivered a new album, Against the Dying of the Light, a companion and further meditation on the themes of his critically acclaimed album, Local Valley. Where Local Valley turned inward toward place, language, and personal reflection, this new record widens its gaze, becoming an urgent call to preserve the light of humanity with all its flaws, at a moment when, technology increasingly shapes how we think, feel, and relate to one another.

While José has always embraced technological advancement, he questions the assumption that every new possibility must be pursued to its maximum potential, especially when progress comes at the expense of human flourishing, attention, and empathy.

Keeping in the tradition of folk music as protest, José’s new single — sharing its title with the forthcoming album — urges listeners to resist systems that dehumanize and divide: “Disconnect from every algorithm, every perverse incentive that drags you down. Let’s rebel against the replicators, against the dying of the light. Kill the codes that feed the hate, keep the codes that make you thrive, celebrate the **king fact that we’re alive.”

Across the album, González works within a deliberately minimal framework, pushing his familiar palette to new heights through subtle variation, restraint, and detail. Each song unfolds with its own distinct character, proving how much emotional and musical range can be achieved within self - imposed limitations. Written in English, Swedish, and Spanish, the record reflects his Swedish - Argentine roots and frames its humanist message as a global one rather than a purely personal or political statement.

José González is one of the most quietly influential artists of our generation. The Swedish - Argentine artist has built a singular musical world from hypnotic, minimal guitar work and his unmistakably gentle voice — a sound that has become deeply personal to millions of listeners worldwide. With billions of streams across platforms and hundreds of thousands of physical records sold, González’s songs often act as emotional landmarks. Ask almost anyone, and they can name at least one of his tracks tied to a defining moment in their lives.

Inspired by the concept of the city as a living, complex entity - a feeling Youniss describes as the difference between "living in a city and just being in that city" - Good Effort! is an open-ended narrative drawn from the artist's own experiences, including growing up on the outskirts of Antwerp.

Like a vibrant city itself, the album is a culmination of organic interactions, layered with diverse perspectives from a collective of artists. Good Effort! features a dynamic cast of collaborators, including international heavyweights like Pink Siifu, Petite Noir, and Quelle Chris, alongside celebrated names from the Belgian underground such as Dienne and Porcelain id.

While retaining his critical edge - especially on themes like gentrification, an acute problem in his home city - Youniss explores the full range of his voice across the album's tracks, resulting in a warmer, more texturally diverse sound.

Tracks like “Notice,” “Glass Ceilings,” and “The Sun Is Falling” expand his textural use of distortion, while others, such as “At the Still Point of the World” and “Why Don’t You?”, float at a more tranquil register. The record's energy peaks on “TakeThat” where Pink Siifu and Youniss trade frenetic bars atop jazzy drum freakouts.

Despite the cynicism forged by witnessing his environment change - like the flattening of the beloved venue Onder Stroom for a parking space - Youniss offers a crucial message of perseverance. The album's title, Good Effort!, is a defiant embrace of trying again.

Ten years after their last collaboration, Jacques Duvall and Benjamin Schoos return with Plein Sommeil, a duo album that is at once melancholic, ironic, and tender—a poetic mirror of the fatigue of the modern world.

The legendary lyricist for Lio, Chamfort, and Daho meets the indie pop producer and sonic adventurer of Freaksville, in a generational union as improbable as it is natural.
Between Brussels and Paris, they weave songs about slowness, worn-out love, and resistance through gentleness.

Blending original compositions and delicate covers (The Kinks, Higelin, Daho), the album evokes a sensual and lucid refuge amid the overheating of everyday life.
Recorded with Bertrand Burgalat, The Loved Drones, and lush string arrangements, Plein Sommeil embraces a handcrafted, timeless aesthetic.

Its motto: “Slow business” — a manifesto against the speed and emptiness of contemporary times.

Each song, balancing irony and elegance, celebrates fragility and humanity.

Here we find ourselves, among the Canadian miscreants Egregore whereupon they return from whence the wind howls like a damned choir and the Earth knows no master, to chart a broader sonic wilderness via ‘It Echoes In The Wild’. And much as sea-rogues and freebooters sought fortune upon blackened waters, so too does Egregore venture musically into diabolic and ungoverned lands. Presenting something more expansive, elemental and untamed on ‘It Echoes In The Wild’, the early occult Black Death Metal lunacy embraces atmospheric breadth equally alongside primitive force to delve deep into not only geographic wilds, but the psychological, esoteric and spiritual hinterlands at the edges of complete madness. Dark invocations and secret tongues draw forth echoes from forest and fen, cave and cliff, tempting the temporally tethered to receive the curse, all the while driven by a primal, unknowable sardonic menace. Though the voyage be perilous, to succumb to ‘It Echoes In The Wild’ is to become ensconced in a lawless dominion of the soul in service of a higher call. Mirroring nature’s unbridled forces and the hidden echoes that dwell within, Egregore’s second album takes the band’s mystical insanity and magickal perversion to the edge of the abyss and plunges forward.

Pioneering Swiss trombonist and composer Andreas Tschopp marries contemporary jazz with South African horns and homemade ocarinas, creating a record quite unlike anything you've heard before. "What if We Align Our Breath" disregards the curvature of borders, genre, and time itself - tugging a thread through the history of wind instrumentation with ghostly agility.

At the heart of the record lie spiralling, bonelike kudu (antelope) horns - instruments that have lent their stirring calls to indigenous South African rituals and signalling systems for millennia. These horns are clustered, harmonised and stretched beyond their godly usage by Tschopp - his extended techniques coaxing an array of melancholy, playful voices to canter through the album.

Flourishes of trombone, alpine flutes and a stellar supporting cast on double bass (Shane Cooper), cornet (Ben LaMar Gay), udu drums (Gontse Makhene) and spoken word (Koleka Putuma) bring groove, countermelody and a sense of earthy introspection to the proceedings. This is inconceivable music: a sighing tapestry of brass, clay and bone that hints at some preconscious connectedness, tracing figures that rejoice, exhale and embrace outside of time.

Recommended if you like Francis Bebey, quantum physics, peat bogs.

Released in 1967, Open marked a bold debut for Brian Auger & The Trinity, featuring the dynamic vocals of Julie Driscoll. Music and its makers were rapidly evolving in ‘67, the UK's Jazz and R&B scenes were being influenced by pop and psychedelia and socially, musicians of many styles found common ground in London’s clubs like The Cromwellian and The Scotch Of St James where the The Beatles, US legends Wilson Pickett and Jimi Hendrix mingled with the capitals jazzers and pop stars, often loudly jamming together in even louder 'Lord Byron' shirts. 'Open' fully embraced this spirit by fusing together those genres and attitudes of the era. From the outset Auger displays his jazz rooted approach on the A side with 'In and Out' and 'Isola Natale' (later covered by one of his American jazz heroes Richard ‘Groove’ Holmes). Both showcase the Trinity's musicianship and Brian's improvisational flair. Auger himself takes on vocal duties on the raucous ‘Black Cat’, a track that became a club hit. Open is marked by its eclecticism; 'Lament for Miss Baker' is a tender, piano ballad influenced by Duke Ellington, reflecting Auger’s jazz and classical influences whilst 'Goodbye Jungle Telegraph' is a wild and crazy percussive freak out. Brian displayed not only his virtuosity but also his surrealist sense of humour with bizarre sound effects, inspired by Spike Milligan's The Goons' radio show interspersed between the tracks.

Julie Driscoll’s arrival on the album’s B side brings a sharp shift in tone. Her smoky, emotive vocals inject a soulful depth, notably on covers of Otis Redding & Carla Thomas hit 'Tramp', Aretha's 'Save Me' and The Staples Singers ‘Why Am I Treated So Bad". With original numbers 'Break It Up' and 'A Kind Of Love In' we hear the Auger / Driscoll pop infused R&B at its very best, whilst the version of Donovan’s 'Season of the Witch' stretches out into a slow-burning epic. In 2025, Open is viewed as a cult classic and testament to a unique period when genre boundaries were fluid and artistic risk-taking was the norm. Brian Auger & The Trinity’s debut captures the adventurous energy of the late 1960s. 58 years later, its importance in the development of British jazz fusion and progressive bands that followed is undeniable, with The Charlatans Tim Burgess recently commenting on Auger's Instagram that The Trinity were a 'huge influence'.

They also embraced a more organic, live- recording approach on Welcome to the Mood. The group explains, "Off the back of touring the last album, we had played more shows than ever and wanted to bring more of the live element into the process, so we didn't use drum breaks and loops as much as previous records and tracked live." They continued expanding their sound by bringing in specialist musicians -- string sections, brass, pianos, and backing vocalists -- pushing the sonic possibilities beyond their individual skill sets. Yet at its core, the album remains deeply personal. Written in remote hideaways, the songs carry the tranquility of escape while capturing a newfound confidence in emotional vulnerability.

Thematically, Welcome to the Mood is a rich sonic auditory tapestry woven with threads of authenticity, humanity, and creative celebration. Lyrically, the album explores universal experiences -- love, loss, connection, hope, and purpose -- drawn from the everyday yet rendered in LEISURE's distinct palette of lush tones and laidback groove. Tracks are anchored in realness but elevated by a sonic landscape that feels simultaneously nostalgic and futuristic, mirroring the ethos of Frank Lloyd Wright, whose Taliesin West provided literal and symbolic inspiration during the album's visual journey.

Six years after his Grammy-nominated LP5, Sascha Ring - aka Apparat - takes a bold dive into the complexities of life with his sixth studio album.



A Hum Of Maybe is detailed, finely crafted, and wonderfully unpredictable. At its core, the record is about love - for himself, his wife, and his daughter - and holding onto it, protecting it, and constantly recalibrating as it is in a constant state of flux. As the title suggests, the songs explore being stuck in between: not a clear yes or no, but A Hum Of Maybe.



Ring elegantly combines the perspectives of an electronic producer and a classical composer, working closely with long-time collaborators Philipp Johann Thimm (cello, piano, guitar) - who also co-wrote and co-produced the record - Christoph “Mäckie” Hamann (violin, keyboard, bass), Jörg Wähner (drums), and Christian Kohlhaas (trombone). The album also features Armenian-American artist KÁRYYN - Apparat’s Mute labelmate - on ‘Tilth’, and Berlin-and Rome-based musician Jan-Philipp Lorenz (aka Bi Disc) on ‘Pieces, Falling’.



A Hum Of Maybe is complex, deeply personal, and embraces a state of limbo, marking an exciting new chapter for Apparat.

With »News from Planet Zombie«, The Notwist return to view after years of exploration and experiment with an album rich in both melancholy and positivity, sketched across a suite of thrilling, fiercely committed pop songs. It’s an album reflecting a chaotic world, but responding with warmth and generosity, to achieve creative and spiritual consolidation. Recorded in their home base of Munich, it reconnects with the security of the local to explore the troubles of the global: a guiding impulse writ large across this album’s eleven songs. It’s also the first studio album since 1995’s »12« that the entire band recorded together in the studio in its expanded live formation.

A new album by The Notwist is always a curious endeavour; their musical language is as consistent and resilient as the contexts for creativity are unpredictable and ever shifting. For »News from Planet Zombie«, the core trio of Markus and Micha Acher and Cico Beck embraced the plural possibilities of writing together, bringing songs to the collective and then arranging, rehearsing and recording that material live, in the studio.

The result is an album that’s energised, fully in ›the now‹, with spectacular moments where you can hear the magic bubbling up in the dynamic between the Achers, Beck, and fellow members Theresa Loibl, Max Punktezahl, Karl Ivar Refseth, and Andi Haberl. If »Teeth« begins »News from Planet Zombie« quietly and reflectively, by »X-Ray« everyone’s supercharged, blasting out future anthems with the collective energy cranked up high. The chiming keys of »Propeller« skim the instrumental’s surface like stones across burbling water; »The Turning« clangs its way into one of the album’s most heartwarming melodies.

»News from Planet Zombie« was recorded over one week at Import Export, a non-profit space for arts and music. You can tell, too; there are some pleasingly rough edges here, as though The Notwist’s striving for hazy perfection means they’re also confident enough to let the songs breathe and mutate between our ears. That openness to chance also takes in guest turns from friends both local and international, reflective of a cosmopolitan Munich: Enid Valu joins in on vocals, while Haruka Yoshizawa guests on taishōgoto and harmonium, Tianping Christoph Xiao on clarinet, and Mathias Götz on trombone.

The Notwist aren’t best known for cover versions, but »News from Planet Zombie« features two: a gorgeous version of Neil Young’s »Red Sun« (from 2000’s »Silver & Gold«), which the group originally developed for a theatre play directed by Jette Steckel, and a take on Athens, Georgia folk-pop gang Lovers’ »How the Story Ends«. They slot into the album’s narrative perfectly, nestling in like old friends, revealing The Notwist as poetic interpreters. Played well, the cover version is both acknowledgement of fellow travellers and act of generosity, and The Notwist nail both aspects here.

And that narrative, the way the album plays out? »News from Planet Zombie« acknowledges the distress of our current geopolitical impasse, while reminding us there are collective ways forward. Fed through the figure of the zombie, Markus Acher explores our anxieties: »In the title and some lyrics I reference B- and horror-movies, which is a reference to the crazy world at the moment, which seems to be like a really bad and unrealistic B-movie.« But there’s a reminder here not to lose the thread entirely, that these things, too, will pass.

»The river here in Munich I often go to has been there forever and will be there long after us,« Acher reflects, pinpointing an important source of succour for him, »always the same but always changing. Very calming, but also always reminding me that like this river time only flows into one direction and you can’t go back. Every moment is very precious.«

Artwork by Marie Vermont

The Notwist:
Markus Acher: vocals, guitar
Micha Acher: bass, sousaphone, euphonium, trumpet
Cico Beck: electronics, keyboards, guitar, recorder, percussion
Theresa Loibl: bassclarinet, clarinet, piano, harmonium, organ
Max Punktezahl: guitar
Karl Ivar Refseth: marimbaphone, vibraphone, glockenspiel, congas, percussion
Andi Haberl: drums, dulcimer
+
Enid Valu: vocals on 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 7, 9, 10, 11
Haruka Yoshizawa: taishōgoto on 6, harmonium on 9, 10, 11
Tianping Christoph Xiao: clarinet on 4, 10, 11
Mathias Götz: trombone on 4, 10, 11

For here lies one of the most influential bands in the realm of gothic metal, a group with doom and death metal roots that has flourished for over three decades, boasting thirteen albums that have garnered devoted acclaim. This injustice is now being set right by The Circle Music , beginning with the vinyl release of the classic album "Burning: A Wish", which emerged twenty-four years ago. "Burning: A Wish", released in the twilight of the year 2001, stands as a dark reliquary of dreams lost to the velvet fog of melancholy. To revisit it now, two dozen years later, is to unseal a time capsule of gothic ache, doom- laced longing, and the tormented tenderness that only Lacrimas Profundere could conjure at their creative height. It was a candle-lit corridor between worlds. A slow fall into velvet shadows. A scream muffled by rain.

By the time "Burning: A Wish" was released, Lacrimas Profundere had already begun to evolve from their early death- doom origins, shaping their identity with the sophistication of seasoned mourners. The death growls had receded, replaced by the haunted, baritone croon of Christopher Schmid, whose voice is an echo from a chapel ruined by time. Yet, while the growls faded, the emotional gravitas remained intact, transmuted into melody, into baroque gloom, into something more sorrowfully refined. Produced with lush, theatrical clarity, the album never drowns in its own atmosphere, it breathes with it, moves with it. The soundscape is dominated by somber guitar textures, languid tempos, and subtle orchestral touches. From the very first notes, it is clear that this is music for ruined lovers and moon-drenched graveyards.

This is the hallmark of Lacrimas Profundere 's style: an emotional minimalism that does not explain or elaborate, but merely opens wounds and lets them breathe. That this album has remained, until now, absent from the warm embrace of vinyl is both tragic and oddly poetic. For what format better suits a record such as this than the one that cracks and hisses like an old seance? Vinyl is tactile, intimate. It requires attention, reverence. To place Burning: A Wish on a turntable is to light a candle in the dark.

2026 Repress

A further exercise in musical curation, Child Of Nature is our latest sonic confluence of self-released tracks from the loners, hippies and outsiders of the 70s and early 80s. A collection of privately pressed music, able to breathe and be created free from the constraints of heavy handed commercialism, yielding a pure vision of artistic expression. Child Of Nature features ten songs of brooding soft rock and psychedelic folk steeped in melancholia. Some ache for better times or past lovers, while others seek spiritual fulfilment or social progress.
A compilation to evoke the raw and unobstructed, to summon the occult, to fundamentally conjure a vivid portrait of our untamed natural environment. Recorded on the north coast of California, Luellen Reese’s ethereal “Silvery Waterfalls” drifts and swirls with electric guitar as her unearthly vocals transcend across a seven minute opus, fit for the golden age of labels like 4AD or Dedicated. “The flowers are dancing just for you …”, Reggie Russell croons over glistening Key Of Creek’s title track “Child Of Nature”, evoking a utopian world of natural harmony free from the present day realities of industrial decay.
Tap into your inner primal being, to embrace wholeheartedly, with frivolity and without reserve, your own child of nature.

With »News from Planet Zombie«, The Notwist return to view after years of exploration and experiment with an album rich in both melancholy and positivity, sketched across a suite of thrilling, fiercely committed pop songs. It’s an album reflecting a chaotic world, but responding with warmth and generosity, to achieve creative and spiritual consolidation. Recorded in their home base of Munich, it reconnects with the security of the local to explore the troubles of the global: a guiding impulse writ large across this album’s eleven songs. It’s also the first studio album since 1995’s »12« that the entire band recorded together in the studio in its expanded live formation.

A new album by The Notwist is always a curious endeavour; their musical language is as consistent and resilient as the contexts for creativity are unpredictable and ever shifting. For »News from Planet Zombie«, the core trio of Markus and Micha Acher and Cico Beck embraced the plural possibilities of writing together, bringing songs to the collective and then arranging, rehearsing and recording that material live, in the studio.

The result is an album that’s energised, fully in ›the now‹, with spectacular moments where you can hear the magic bubbling up in the dynamic between the Achers, Beck, and fellow members Theresa Loibl, Max Punktezahl, Karl Ivar Refseth, and Andi Haberl. If »Teeth« begins »News from Planet Zombie« quietly and reflectively, by »X-Ray« everyone’s supercharged, blasting out future anthems with the collective energy cranked up high. The chiming keys of »Propeller« skim the instrumental’s surface like stones across burbling water; »The Turning« clangs its way into one of the album’s most heartwarming melodies.

»News from Planet Zombie« was recorded over one week at Import Export, a non-profit space for arts and music. You can tell, too; there are some pleasingly rough edges here, as though The Notwist’s striving for hazy perfection means they’re also confident enough to let the songs breathe and mutate between our ears. That openness to chance also takes in guest turns from friends both local and international, reflective of a cosmopolitan Munich: Enid Valu joins in on vocals, while Haruka Yoshizawa guests on taishōgoto and harmonium, Tianping Christoph Xiao on clarinet, and Mathias Götz on trombone.

The Notwist aren’t best known for cover versions, but »News from Planet Zombie« features two: a gorgeous version of Neil Young’s »Red Sun« (from 2000’s »Silver & Gold«), which the group originally developed for a theatre play directed by Jette Steckel, and a take on Athens, Georgia folk-pop gang Lovers’ »How the Story Ends«. They slot into the album’s narrative perfectly, nestling in like old friends, revealing The Notwist as poetic interpreters. Played well, the cover version is both acknowledgement of fellow travellers and act of generosity, and The Notwist nail both aspects here.

And that narrative, the way the album plays out? »News from Planet Zombie« acknowledges the distress of our current geopolitical impasse, while reminding us there are collective ways forward. Fed through the figure of the zombie, Markus Acher explores our anxieties: »In the title and some lyrics I reference B- and horror-movies, which is a reference to the crazy world at the moment, which seems to be like a really bad and unrealistic B-movie.« But there’s a reminder here not to lose the thread entirely, that these things, too, will pass.

»The river here in Munich I often go to has been there forever and will be there long after us,« Acher reflects, pinpointing an important source of succour for him, »always the same but always changing. Very calming, but also always reminding me that like this river time only flows into one direction and you can’t go back. Every moment is very precious.«

Artwork by Marie Vermont

The Notwist:
Markus Acher: vocals, guitar
Micha Acher: bass, sousaphone, euphonium, trumpet
Cico Beck: electronics, keyboards, guitar, recorder, percussion
Theresa Loibl: bassclarinet, clarinet, piano, harmonium, organ
Max Punktezahl: guitar
Karl Ivar Refseth: marimbaphone, vibraphone, glockenspiel, congas, percussion
Andi Haberl: drums, dulcimer
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Enid Valu: vocals on 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 7, 9, 10, 11
Haruka Yoshizawa: taishōgoto on 6, harmonium on 9, 10, 11
Tianping Christoph Xiao: clarinet on 4, 10, 11
Mathias Götz: trombone on 4, 10, 11

“Certain albums hit like howling bullets at pivotal moments, tearing open the face of music to reveal hidden sonic muscles and fusing them back into something both strangely familiar and yet entirely unrecognisable. We believe this is one of those records.”

The double album Death of Music delivers 18 crooked vocal pops, some ruthless, others unexpectedly disarming. In some songs, Ajukaja & Mart Avi function like a two-headed saurus swinging its spiky tail to shady pop-house smackers. In others, Ajukaja's serene organ licks descend into subterranean caverns, allowing Avi to float to the surface on their wavelengths and turn his voice into billions of extinct moths, enslaved by the moonlight’s pull. There are songs that face destruction and those that seek to prevent it.

One kykeon rap goes, “If you die before you die, then when you die, you don't die!”. Ajukaja & Mart Avi have embraced this notion to create new music that allows them to thrive in the algorithmic wasteland. 13 years in the making, these 66 minutes are packed with lifetimes of truths you didn’t know you needed to know. They are Ajukaja & Mart Avi – two against death.

Produced by Ajukaja
Words by Mart Avi, Music by Raul Saaremets
Guitar and Bass by Sten Sheripov (Can’t Touch The Earth, Safe)
Sax by Steve Vanoni (I.D.O.L.)
Recorded between 2011—2024
Mastered by The Bastard
Cover Photo by fs
Sleeve by Marke, Mart Avi
Pressed in Tartu, Estonia

If you know your death metal history, you are then well aware that 'Hating Life' stands for one of GRAVE earliest and gnarliest demo days classics, later on rerecorded on their immortal debut 'Into The Grave', later on once again used as the title of their fourth full-length, back in 1996. So when a brand new entity proudly waving an old-school death metal flag and bearing the same name seemingly creeps out of nowhere, you're entitled to except the same kind of HM-2 drenched, tribute-in-disguise and downtuned death metal innit? Well, for the time being, the answer would be yes. And no at the same time. Not so hidden behind the whole thing is Santi, guitar player and founding member of ATARAXY, one of Spain most respected and relentless old-school death metal outfit since 2008. "The whole process was very spontaneous, the result of me jamming with a Gibson Les Paul and a HM-2 pedal and ending up soon with great riffs, melodies and plenty of ideas. With ATARAXY having now a very specific personality, it felt great to rediscover primitive death metal roots." Describing HATING LIFE overall sound as "putrid and raw", he doesn't deny the obvious GRAVE nod, especially since the opening track/intro of their debut recording is simply called 'Into The Grave'. "You can call it a tribute or a declaration of intent. The first GRAVE material was and remains a clear exponent, among many others, of the kind of death metal that truly motivated me to compose the tracks for this."