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After appearing with Archie Shepp at the landmark Pan-African Cultural festival in Algiers in 1969, African-American trumpeter-cornetist Clifford Thornton recorded a set of his own compositions in Paris later that year. The result was Ketchaoua, an important political and spiritual as well as musical statement that reflected the inspiration that he took from Islam. Indeed, the title of the album refers to the awe-inspiring mosque in Algiers.
Clifford Thornton’s superb band comprised his compatriots, saxophonists Archie Shepp and Arthur Jones, drummer Sunny Murray, trombonist Grachan Moncur III, pianist Dave Burrell, and bassist Earl Freeman, as well as French bassist Beb Guérin. Together they brought energy and ingenuity to the leader’s compositions, which were characterized by vivid atmospheres, exploratory, mysterious sounds and haunting themes. And the song titles conveyed an important social and cultural message. Pieces such as ‘Brotherhood’ pointed to the sense of unity and kinship that African-American artists felt with the citizens they encountered on their journey to North Africa and Europe.
This newly remastered deluxe edition of Ketchaoua provides an opportunity to hear one of the major entries in Clifford Thornton’s relatively small yet nonetheless highly impressive discography. It is an album that marks him out as a figure in the avant- garde movement of the late 60s and early 70s who deserves far wider recognition.

Father John Mistys bahnbrechendes zweites Album aus dem Jahr 2015, ,I Love You, Honeybear", ist zurück auf Vinyl, remastered und neu verpackt als Einzel-LP. Ursprünglich wurde es als Doppel-LP veröffentlicht. Das Album wird mittlerweile als Klassiker angesehen und enthält die Fan-Favoriten ,Chateau Lobby #4 (in C for Two Virgins)" und den Titelsong ,I Love You, Honeybear". Bei der Veröffentlichung erhielt ,I Love You, Honeybear" viel Kritikerlob, u.a. Pitchfork Best New Music, eine perfekte Bewertung von Exclaim! und begeisterte Kritiken von NME, Mojo, Q, Spin und anderen. Es wurde als eines der besten Alben des Jahres 2015 von Pitchfork, Billboard, The A.V. Club, NME und Stereogum gefeiert. ,I Love You, Honeybear" wurde von Josh Tillman und Jonathan Wilson produziert und von Phil Ek gemischt. Diese 2025er Ausgabe wurde 2024 von Adam Ayan bei Ayan Mastering neu gemastert. Diese Erstpressung kommt auf rotem Vinyl.

As Jess Sylvester finished his Hardly Art debut as Marinero in the fall of 2020, he realized it was time for a change. Sylvester grew up in Marin County, on the doorstep of San Francisco. It was a nurturing community for a high-school punk with a pompadour and, later, for a sober songwriter with a proclivity for moody psychedelia. But he wanted to be challenged and inspired by a new setting and scenario around strangers who prompted him to approach his music in unexpected ways. So in September 2020, as the world continued to reel in lockdown, Sylvester headed several hours south to Los Angeles, a city that, despite the relative proximity, the film buff knew largely from classic and cult films situated there. When he arrived, he kept digging into that cinematic past-Robert Altman's The Long Goodbye, with John Williams' classic theme, or classic 90s movies about East LA, many featuring Edward James Olmos. They shaped his understanding of his new town just as it began to open. This is one pillar of the multivalent and endlessly lush La La La, Marinero's new album about sobriety, identity, and fantasy that is playfully named both for the city that helped shape it and the sophisticated pop it contains. Sylvester wrote about characters outside of himself, whether considering the heroine reckoning with her own version of keeping clean or the screenwriters whose work was deemed communist simply as a political convenience. He linked those songs with motivational anthems about self-acceptance and playful numbers about flirting through food, shaping a 12-song set rich with humor, empathy, and encouragement. Sure, La La La is a continuation of the slippery genre play Sylvester started with 2021's Hella Love, 2019's Trópico de Cáncer, or even before that. But it also feels like a fresh beginning for Marinero, as Sylvester realizes how boundless this project can be. He began to think about the music of his childhood, how his mother is from San Francisco with Mexican roots, and how he'd heard so much salsa growing up as an impetuous teenager. So he wrote "Taquero," a red-hot salsa tune that uses tacos and their trappings as a source of endless metaphors for come-ons. And then there was the Ray Barreto or Santana-inspired "Pocha Pachanga," with organ gliding and percussion pulsing beneath his yearning vocals, warped as if by desert winds. In Los Angeles, he found a wealth of players who spoke this music like language itself (including Chicano Batman's Eduardo Arenas), all ready to play with and push these familiar forms. Sylvester has also been sober for 21 years, since a cross-country sojourn to attend college in Boston ended in a chemical haze. Today, he sees friends facing the same decisions he made two decades ago, and he brings bits of that experience to bear in songs that feel like self-help anthems. Recorded with a musical hero (and labelmate) of his, Chris Cohen, "Sea Changes" feels like sunshine breaking through dark clouds, as Sylvester acknowledges the newfound confidence and clarity in a friend who has stepped away from destructive habits. In the past, Sylvester has been intractably linked to his identity as a Mexican-American, born to parents from Mexico and Irish- American descent who settled in San Francisco. That can be limiting, of course, tying him to notions of sound and style that aren't always correct. On La La La, he simultaneously steps into and out of those preconceptions, singing tracks above salsa in joyous Spanish or pondering the dynamics of the Hollywood Ten and blacklists above mysterious lap steel and teasing trumpet. His identity, then, should now be clear: He is a Californian, making music shaped by the diversity of encounters and experiences that are a central part of that state's fabric. Never before has he presented himself so fully and unabashedly on tape as with La La La, an album Sylvester built with new inspirations to deliver new charms.

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.

Miki Yui is a musician, artist, and composer, originally from Tokyo, who has been based in Düsseldorf since 1994. Her whose work has long explored multiple forms of media, while documenting liminal zones of perception. On her latest album, As If, Yui creates a subtly connected suite of electronic music, drawn from improvisations and randomised processes that she has engaged with modular synthesis. Deeply poetic in its expression, even at its most minimal, the six pieces on As If have a curious tenor – they are, each of them, intensely sensuous, almost haptic listening experiences, as though the laser focus that Yui displays towards her compositions allows her to engage them as almost physical presences in the world.

One of the keys that unlocks the intimate complexity-in-simplicity of As If was Yui’s encounters with the Amazonian rainforest in Manaus, Brazil in 2018. Finding that the sounds in the rainforest both shadowed and echoed the music she had been making for two decades, she embraced the possibilities of modular synthesis, the sounds of which she discovered “have astonishing similarities to the sounds I experienced in the rainforest.” There is, indeed, something natural about the way these sounds bloom in real time; in their dedicated focus to the subtle development and mutation of several discrete parameters of sound, they grow slowly, gradually, their rhizomic structures suggesting that we are always situated within the middle of sound.

Sometimes, the material here has a kind of febrile energy, as on the ticking, clacking electronics of “Generativ”, a track that seems to rotate in the air in front of the listener, the light reflecting off its multiple surfaces as we catch the intricacies of its micro-patterns. Elsewhere, we slide into a cooled but welcoming environment, like the late-night fire-fly horizon of “Song 4”; there’s also the humid, dripping tropical sunset that’s documented on “Summernight”. It’s a music that’s hard to locate external coordinates for, though there are, perhaps, some parallels with the work of Laurie Spiegel, Eliane Radigue’s Vice Versa, and Pauline Oliveros’s “Roots of the Moment”. But As If is an extraordinary collection of naturally developing, rich studies for slowly mutating, enveloping, elemental electronics.

Produced by Creed Taylor and originally issued on the CTI label in 1975, Jim Hall's Concierto followed the path of Miles Davis' celebrated Sketches of Spain in presenting, among other tunes, an arrangement of Joaquín Rodrigo's "Concierto de Aranjuez."

The LP was an all-star venture, with Hall accompanied by such luminaries as Chet Baker, Paul Desmond, Roland Hanna, Ron Carter and Steve Gadd. Desmond had a long history of recording with the guitarist, but this was Hall and Baker's first out of just two recorded encounters.

Concierto received a **** ½ rating on AllMusic, with reviewer Anthony Tognazzini stating that it "ranks among the best albums of Hall's superb catalog and the personnel is a jazz lover's dream come true."

The first Jazzamor Vinyl Release!
12 selected and newly edited songs from 20 years of Jazzamor history.
"20 years of Jazzamor with over 100 songs and 13 albums released. Concerts all over the world. Encounters with many interesting people in many countries. Places we look back to with loving memories. And although we currently cannot travel them all music connects them. Music goes beyond borders. Thankfully!
20 years in which we were fortunate to collaborate with fantastic musicians and technicians who inspired us and enriched our music. We are grateful to have had you with us and we look forward to discover new things with you."

It's fair to say this label, this producer has had more than their fair share of hits over the years.
Hitting you straight in the heart (and hips) sometimes and occasionally (and that's all your own fault) going over-your-head.

Regardless.
Whether rummaging around the sonic fringes or incanting pure dancefloor moments like this, Bitter End always, always deliver.
Adjustment->Love is the best thing we've heard this year.
The rest of the EP 'filler' is also better than anything else you're likely to encounter on a 12" this side of 2025.
Don't be an idiot - while everyone else if toeing the line, try your best to colour outside of it.

Dienne creates hazy pieces of music full of the melancholy of remembrance and loss combining analogue instruments with reverb-drenched vocals and shimmers of processed electronic sources. Her new album "Conducturis" emerges as a sensory exploration of the human spirit and the boundless horizons of artificial intelligence.

"Abundant in beauty and rich in disturbances" serves as the guiding principle for Belgian composer, Dienne, as she builds songs and soundscapes that portray the images and stories that play behind her eyes.

Combining analogue instruments like the oboe, the piano, and the flute with reverb-drenched vocals and shimmers of processed electronic sources, she creates hazy pieces of music full of the melancholy of remembrance and loss.

Her debut album Addio (2022) was released on Nicolás Jaar's Other People imprint. Addio is a 32-minute study on loss and mourning. Following the death of her grandmother due to Covid-19, and unable to say a proper goodbye due to travel restrictions, Dienne set out to give her "Addio" through musical form. The result is a deeply intimate work that channels classical instrumentation through foggy electronic experimentation.

Memories, biographies, and family histories merge in this simultaneously somber and optimistic work which plays out like a universal and comforting ode to lost loved ones. Her second album, Conducturis, accompanies an immersive film installation delving into speculative fiction, conceptualized by Mira Sanders and Cédric Noël. Conducturis will be released on Cortizona at the end of January 2025.

Conducturis is an immersive film installation project that delves into the realms of speculative fiction, employing the cinematic language of the road movie to envision the ramifications of constructing an artificial brain within the Swiss landscape.

Following their encounters with key figures in the Human Brain Project during an art research expedition in Geneva from 2019 to 2020, conceptualized by Cédric Noël & Mira Sanders, they stumbled upon a remarkable discovery: a hidden fiber-optic cable linking Geneva to Lugano.

Anchored at both ends by the Human Brain Project in Geneva and the CSCS (Centre Suisse de Calcul Scientifique) in Lugano, this conduit facilitated the transmission of intricate brain simulations from the imposing computational hub in Lugano to Geneva via a 'superconductor' cable.

While the nuances of this fiber network eluded the naked eye, Sanders & Noël meticulously pored over maps, gathered endless data, and traversed the terrain. In crafting "Conducturis", they chose to portray an immersive journey along this IT infrastructure connecting Geneva and Lugano, exploring the curious allure of dreaming about artificial landscapes.

The accompanying originalscore by Dienne invites audiences to delve into the intersection of human creativity and machine intelligence. Guided by the principle of being "abundant in beauty and rich in disturbances", Dienne embarks on a sonic exploration of the Swiss landscape, translating its ethereal beauty and technological wonders into evocative musical compositions.

"How can a human sound like a machine?"

This intriguing question lies at the heart of Dienne's artistic endeavor. For her, the soundtrack of "Conducturis'' transcends mere musical notes; it embodies a profound philosophical exploration into the essence of human creativity amidst the rise of artificial intelligence.

Similarly, "How can a human being compose like a machine?" serves as a pivotal inquiry guiding Dienne's creative journey. As she navigates the delicate boundary between human expression and machine cognition, she skillfully intertwines the pulsating rhythms of data transmission with the haunting melodies inspired by artificial landscapes.

Drawing inspiration from the cinematic aesthetics of the road movie genre, as envisioned by Sanders & Noël in their speculation on the construction of an artificial brain, Dienne weaves a sonic tapestry that transports listeners on a contemplative journey through mountains, lakes, and cities.

Each track for "Conducturis" becomes a testament to the fusion of brain and landscape, inviting audiences to ponder the limitless potential of human imagination.

As audiences immerse themselves in the evocative world of "Conducturis", Dienne's soundtrack serves as a guiding force and perfect companion, leading them through a transcendental experience where reality and imagination merge, and the symphony of human and machine harmonizes seamlessly.

"Conducturis" emerges as a sensory exploration of the human spirit and the boundless horizons of artificial intelligence. With Dienne's soundtrack as its heartbeat, this project invites audiences to embark on a voyage of discovery, where the echoes of human creativity reverberate across the digital frontier.

In his second EP, Scott Avery takes us on a journey through the life of MK2680—a fictional android, Martian, and human hybrid living between Earth and Mars in the year 3000. A young historian traveling through space and time searching for ancient African music traditions, MK2680's time machine malfunctions on a routine trip to Earth, leaving him stranded in Detroit in 1992. Techno, a genre he had yet to encounter, dominated the dance floors and airwaves during this time. Blown away by its emotional depth, futuristic sound, gritty textures, driving rhythms, and minimal yet hypnotic arrangements, MK2680 endeavored to make music to find a place in the universe. The result is the Dark Side of Mars.

War Head Constriction, a trio that defined an uncompromising afro psych-rock sound, began by playing shows that combined dark proto-metal influences from Black Sabbath and Deep Purple with afro-rhythmic elements. Their raw energy caught the attention of Afrodisia, a progressive record label, which signed them to release a single in 1973: "Graceful Bird" b/w "Shower of Stone." Unfortunately, the record was too experimental for mainstream audiences and quickly faded, leading to the band's breakup. Despite this, they played their biggest show opening for Fela & the Afrika 70 at the National Stadium in Lagos before disbanding. However, the members quickly moved on, continuing to form new groups.

Amenechi recalls jamming with Soga Benson, his cousin Skid, and Ben Bruce at St. Gregory’s, where they wrote and performed together. Benson, who had previously been in rival groups, became close with Amenechi once he joined Greg’s. Benson, a talented guitarist, joined Ofege for their second and third albums in 1975 and 1977. Despite this, his main group, Grotto, had yet to record. That changed when EMI Records, the leading afro-rock label, took interest in Grotto in 1977.

Odion Iruoje, A&R manager at EMI Nigeria, recalls his first encounter with Grotto, noting their cocky attitude and raw material. He sought to help them find an authentic sound, avoiding the typical influences of British rock or groups like Ofege. Iruoje was passionate about youth bands, seeing them as a fresh opportunity to experiment and create something unique. Despite skepticism from EMI Nigeria about the youth market, Iruoje felt confident that Grotto’s originality would shine through.

Supra Hip Hop Impressions was born of a radio encounter between legendary composer Janko Nilovic and Dipiz, beat maker, crate digger, deejay and radio host.

Fragments of matter oscillate on the earth's axis.
The encounter of desolate scenarios
does not feel any contact between incorporeal vibrations.
Peace explodes,
unexpected advent,
blinding lightning:
handfuls of men raise their gaze above.
The line of time
runs towards the inexorable destiny of the refined senses.

Moka Only is a hip-hop legend with a career spanning nearly three decades. Hailing from Vancouver, he's renowned for his prolific output, introspective lyrics, and unique blend of melodic rap and thoughtful storytelling. His music explores themes of personal growth, societal issues, and introspective reflections, making him a respected voice in the hip-hop landscape.

Moka's highly anticipated new album, "Arbutus Canyon” is a deeply personal tribute to his formative years on Vancouver Island, the album is a sonic exploration of the region's landscapes, culture, and memories. Inspired by the iconic Arbutus tree and the Arbutus Canyon, a real geographic location near Victoria, the album is a rich tapestry of sounds and stories. Moka's signature beats evolve while remaining true to his established style, creating a seamless continuation of his previous work, "In and of Itself."

Throughout "Arbutus Canyon," listeners will encounter coded references to adventures and experiences on Vancouver Island, as well as cryptic elements that invite deeper exploration. The album features a variety of interludes, including the extended "Arbutus Intermission," providing a unique listening experience.

Trawling the net for sounds of a different fashion two humans encountered each other and their mutual taste for exotic rhythms, heavy sonics and all things dub.

Based in Scotland and Kazakhstan, drawing influences from ghetto music cultures from around the globe. They broke through barriers, political and language, to collaborate and create. Announcing their sound under the banner ‘Illuminations’ in a hope to shine the light away from the algorithms of corporate greed and control, bringing it back to individuals with creative souls.

Released under scopeotaku’s DiY tape label, this is a limited edition of 50 hand-stamped and numbered cassettes feat 15 tracks by the duo that drag future dystopian soundscapes into bass laden rhythms best heard in dark spaces through large speakers.

Denovali presents the new album of the prestigious Swedish pianist and composer Matti Bye. Matti is well-known for his regular performances at various silent film festivals and screenings worldwide, where you can see him perform solo and with artists such as Lau Nau. Bye has been involved in several collaborations, including Hydras Dream, where he recorded and released an album with Anna von Hausswolff. Additionally, Matti is recognized for his scores in projects like ”Young Royals," ”Tove," „The Hundred-Year-Old Man Who Climbed Out of the Window and Disappeared,“ and "A Traves de tu Mirada” among many others.

Matti Bye's third album, "Capri Clouds", moves through the element of the air and further into space. A lone piano sounds, echoes - sometimes like a waltz. We have the sound of the wind with us and the sound of the sea below us as we fly, and above we hear the stars and planets spinning. A piano from the past, as if Satie met space - as if Spiritualized and Satie talked to each other across timeand space.These songs go straight to the heart and to the senses, and create images in your head. Stories from your own memory bank, as well as new visions – music to lean into, meditatively and hopefully longing. But there is also an undertone of something dark and desolate. Musically, Matti Bye moves within the realm of neo-classicism, but he is also approaching romanticism. References to composers suchas Schubert and Beethoven are to be found here, as well as to post-romantic bands such as Kraftwerk and The Cure. In this third album of a trilogy – the first was "Bethanien", the second "The Forgotten Land" – Bye continues his musical journey. Here we encounter a brighter and lighter production. Anders af Klintberg has brought "Capri Clouds" up from the underworld and the dreamscape, towards clouds and skies.

Indian born, UK artist Michael Diamond, co-founder of Vasuki Sound label and club night, announces new EP Placid Wakefulness, featuring single ‘Reverse Entropy’. available on all platforms 5th December via Vasuki Sound.

A uniquely multifaceted talent, Michael Diamond’s unforgettable ‘jazzed electronic’ sound is informed by a spectrum of influences, not least by intersection of the scientific and practical worlds of electronic music. From the music scholarship he won to read Medicine at Oxford where he quickly discovered new ways in which the two worlds can co-exist, his days were spent immersed in academic studies of music perception and cognition, while his nights were spent alongside the likes of Ben UFO, Batu & Ross From Friends, playing at one of UK’s most long-established nights ‘Simple’. A chance encounter there also led him to connect with musical collaborator Alex Wilson – the BBC Young Jazz Musician of the Year semi-finalist and then musical director of Oxford’s Jazz Orchestra – who appears frequently across Diamond’s compositions and on Placid Wakefulness.

No stranger to a concept piece, Diamond’s previous project, the highly personal and critically acclaimed exploration of culture and identity, Third Culture (album of the month/year acknowledgments from Stamp The Wax, Juno and Phonica Records, also earning him a DJ Mag ‘One To Watch’, a Youth Music Awards ‘Rising Star’ nomination and a Gilles Peterson’s ‘Future Bubbler’ accolade) explored the experience of being a ‘third culture kid’ born in Kerala, India and growing up in the UK with a sense of fractured identity.

On Placid Wakefulness, Diamond honours his academic research working alongside world-renowned musicologist Professor Eric Clarke. Specifically how music may affect our sleepfulness and wakefulness, how instinctively we are soothed by some sounds and energised by others - ‘what it is about dance music that makes people go hard all night long?’ and ‘what is it about ambient music that makes people feel the opposite way - to lull them into this sense of calmness or rest?’, mindful of the unconscious ways his findings were already manifesting in his work as an artist. And while his research provides a framework for some of the ideas within the piece, Placid Wakefulness can be viewed as more of an unintentional byproduct, or case-in-point of his findings, rather than a piece consciously constructed in their image.

Across Placid Wakefulness’s four tracks we find the artist unpacking a range of sonic ideas on this theme, from ambient calm to club-adjacent rhythms. The EP opens with hypnotic lullaby of ‘A Way of Listening’ complete with transcendent flutes provided by Alex Wilson, cello by George Lloyd-Own and a mellow groove. On the more energised ‘Reverse Entropy’, rhythmic ambiguity moves to rhythmic disambiguation with a four-to-the-floor beat as the track progresses, releasing tension and inviting an urge to dance as a jazz sax moment transmutes into glorious techno percussiveness.

On ‘Turning and Turning’ the bpm shifts down a gear, a sonic dreamstate where tough textural rhythms create a kind of liminal state tension. Closing out the EP we return to a sense of restfulness with the EP’s title track, where a gorgeous picked guitar loop interplays with vibrating ambient pads and a slow and steady beat. The Placid Wakefulness EP is a captivating testament to Diamond’s singular artistic talent and the fascinating interplay of neuroscience and how we experience and enjoy music.

Debut collaborative album from Troth, the Nipaluna-based duo of Amelia Besseny and Cooper Bowman, and kindred spirit and legendary Mancunian free-form guitarist Jon Collin. A lavish dreamscape conjuring the dramatic beauty of uncharted mountains and streams, it documents both the crystilisation of ideas first shared during an Australian encounter in early 2023 and years of mutual appreciation.

Troth’s sonic universe, a constellation of drifting atmospherics, bedroom pop impulse and modern classical motifs, is deeply intimate and never rushed. Recent sides Forget The Curse and Idle Easel and live performances supporting the likes of Maxine Funke and Treasury of Puppies have seen Besseny’s soaring, celestial voice take centre stage, delicately adorned with Bowman’s synthesiser flourishes and homespun instrumentation. At their heart lies Bowman’s tireless collaborative instinct: his decade-long involvement in the Australian underground and his countless musical outfits (including contemporary trio Th Blisks, with Besseny and Yuta Matsumura).

Summer 2023 saw the duo host two shows for Collin in their former home of Mulubinba, regional New South Wales. Collin is perhaps best known for his playing, deconstructing and reconfiguring of the guitar and other stringed instruments, realised in solo works on his own Early Music and Winebox Press imprints, and collaborations on a trio of albums with Demdike Stare and live sessions with Sarah Hughes and Bill Nace. His unique style of playing, sometimes delicate, at other times frictional, refutes expectations of traditional instruments and fits perfectly within both Troth’s ethos and their lush sonic mise-en-scène.

The objects of devotion perhaps symbolise the group’s devotion towards each other during their music-making process, and the fruits from which they are borne. “I think, any music I have a hand in, is a dialogue with by the people I'm making it with. It's an ongoing conversation between people and sound”, reflects Bowman. The sacredness and ominousness of remote Tasmania is just as affecting, the interplay of Besseny’s haunting vocal washes, Bowman’s sparse instrumentation and Collin’s ritualistic strum evoking the eeriness that lurks beneath the seemingly limitless Australian landscape. “When I think about it, it sounds like being together at the bottom of the Earth. Watching, listening and playing together with no-one else in sight."

Transparent Curacao Vinyl. Award-winning composer for video games and Scottish artist, Barry "Epoch" Topping (PARADISE KILLER, SENTRY, THATCHER'S TECHBASE, ENCOUNTERS) returns with "The Needs", 11 songs of lavish reflection in a modern city pop style. The album takes the listener through an emotional exploration of identity and change set against the backdrop of late summer. It fuses city pop, rock and dance music into a rich, dreamy blast of video game-tinged modern pop music. But "The Needs" is more than just an album title, like Barry explains: "It's a new ensemble built around a core of the musicians that worked with me on Paradise Killer: Fiona Lynch, Fabian Hernandez, Thomas Temple and Kyle Murray-Dickson. A new trio of horns Elin Andersson, Nicklas Dahlin and Simon Fransman round out the full lineup. Having such talented musicians involved in a much bigger way has allowed us to challenge ourselves and make the best, most over the top music we've made yet. 'The Needs' was created as a vehicle for my own reflections and is intended to help listeners reflect and find solace too. No album can be universal but if 'The Needs' can help people feel seen or understood then I'll feel like it's been a success. Getting to make the album has been an extremely rewarding experience."

After an extensive tour of the UK at the end of 2022, the band decided to head into the studio to record their first long form offering. Following a passion for storytelling, they pulled together influences from Pulp Fiction to Fleabag, from Zadie Smith to Edward Hopper. They wrote relentlessly during 2022, diligently crafting what was to become this debut album. Released independently on their own Life and Times Recordings, Exit Strategy is a 13-track labour of love, recorded at Abbey Road Studios and Love Electric, enlisting the production smarts of Bernard Butler. The album is in two halves (divided literally by the two sides of the vinyl edition) entitled Galway and London and presents a multifaceted band, pushing themselves and exploring the limits of their philosophy.

Exit Strategy centres around a protagonist who moves from Galway to London in search of meaning, certain that, as the main character in the film of his own life, the solution lies in changing his surroundings and acting as someone he’s not. Both a mirror and a portal, the album promises encounters with manipulative bosses, evil ad agencies, a broken pact to flee to Australia, run-ins with the law, cheating boyfriends, drug fuelled youths, heartache, paranoia, social media anxiety and a drunk singer dressed as Jesus. Thematically the album races between emotions, between irony and sincerity, between soul searching and tongue-in-cheek finger pointing and ends where it all started, both musically and in terms of single rollout, with the nostalgic/euphoric first single Westway.

Explaining the album’s genesis and cinematic influence, James McGregor says: “We were always sure we wanted the album to be greater than the sum of its parts, so decided to create the world of a film, entitled Exit Strategy. We envisaged the record as a series of snapshots, telling the story of a group of characters trying to navigate through life.”

Hallmarked more by a philosophy than a sound, The Clockworks weave pop sensibilities with noisy, post-punk, rock-influenced stylings. The songs seem swaggering and dark yet often have an epic, nostalgic quality. They sit poetic introspection beside witty, kitchen sink drama to create something intense but playful.

With the release of Exit Strategy, The Clockworks have created a world to be explored, to be analysed and to be deciphered, but most importantly to be felt.

This is the debut release from Danish Qbasic as a solo artist, and its likely the strongest lo-fi record to emerge straight out of Copenhagen.

The A-side brings a cheerful, feel-good disco vibe, based on an old Detroit sample that loops endlessly, accompanied by repetitive, uplifting woodwind instrument.

Flip over to the B-side, and youll encounter a strong contrast: dark, mean heavy, and gritty cassette tape samples create a dreamy, solitary journey through an urban nightscape. As you walk through the dark night you discover shadows of new, sleepy buildings appear, drawing you in, yet leaving you torn between approaching or retreating. You dont want to go towards them, but neither do you want to leave.

This is the debut release from Danish Qbasic as a solo artist, and its likely the strongest lo-fi record to emerge straight out of Copenhagen.

The A-side brings a cheerful, feel-good disco vibe, based on an old Detroit sample that loops endlessly, accompanied by repetitive, uplifting woodwind instrument.

Flip over to the B-side, and youll encounter a strong contrast: dark, mean heavy, and gritty cassette tape samples create a dreamy, solitary journey through an urban nightscape. As you walk through the dark night you discover shadows of new, sleepy buildings appear, drawing you in, yet leaving you torn between approaching or retreating. You dont want to go towards them, but neither do you want to leave.

The album "Plural" celebrates the remarkable encounters and partnerships that have shaped Gabriel Grossi"s 25-year career as a harmonica player, composer, arranger, and producer. Featuring 10 of his own compositions, Grossi"s renowned virtuosity flows with deep sensitivity through various genres, reflecting the solid trajectory of one of the greatest instrumentalists and most creative musicians in Brazilian music. Collaborating with prominent names from both the national and international music scenes, "Plural" showcases Grossi"s music without borders, offering the world a glimpse of his extensive career. For this celebration, outstanding guests were invited to join the musical journey. Including Jacob Collier, Ed Motta, Hermeto Pascoal, Seamus Blake, Omar Sosa and others.

Lara Sarkissian’s long-awaited debut full-length, ‘Remnants’ is an ornate patchwork of ancient and modern sonic shapes that uses the vernacular of electronic music to reformulate Armenian traditions and memories. Taking digitally modeled instruments (such as the kanun, a large zither, and the duduk, an ancient double reed woodwind instrument), vocals, davul and dhol drums, tenor saxophone (from acclaimed Paris-based player Adrien Soleiman) and myriad electronic elements and techniques, Sarkissian tangles the old and the new, creating an immersive, narrative-driven experience that’s powered by history, mythology and her own familial connection to the West Asian landscape. It’s an album that’s best absorbed like a film; only multiple encounters can reveal its layered themes and references to industrial music, noise, various club styles, ambient and traditional folk.

Born and raised in San Francisco and currently based in Los Angeles, Sarkissian has developed her unique approach to composition over years of relentless experimentation across various disciplines. Her interest in music production initially stemmed from her filmmaking and video editing work, when she began to sculpt her own sound collages and scores to accompany the visuals. Since then, she’s constantly blurred the boundary between dance and experimental music, DJing around the world, producing AV installations and scoring film and video projects that have been exhibited in Berlin’s Gropius Bau, Montréal’s Musée d’art contemporain, the Music Center Los Angeles and other prestigious institutions, and releasing music with labels such as Tresor, Knekelhuis, All Centre, Silva Electronics and CLUB CHAI, the label and event series she co-founded. In recent years, she’s also been able to advance the theory behind her art, publishing a conversation with ethnomusicologist Sylvia Alajaji in the Journal of the Society of Armenian Studies in 2021, and unveiling her methodology in Norient’s ‘This Track Contains Politics – The Culture of Sampling in Experimental Electronica’ a year later.

‘Remnants’ is a new stage in Sarkissian’s evolution as an artist; not only is it her first proper album, but it’s the inaugural release on her new platform btwn Earth+Sky. She sees the label as a place to encourage collaborations between musicians and producers and prioritize sound in visual arts realms, and ‘Remnants’ is the ideal proof of concept. It opens with ‘Heaven, or Paradise; and Hell’, a track that’s inspired by the layout of the Armenian sharakan (or hymn) ‘Aravot Luso’. Sarkissian imagines the original piece’s harmonies and melodies as parts of a dreamy electronic opera, using digital kanun sounds to punctuate her woozy, evocative synths. Soleimen joins on tenor sax in the third act, while Sarkissian repeats the chant and Jace Akira adds ghostly traces of electric guitar and bass. And on the rousing ‘Our Dead Can’t Rest (Old Jugha Flute Dance)’, Sarkissian chops urgent davul and dhol drum rhythms with spine-chilling shvi woodwind sounds lifted from a documentary about Old Jugha. The title is a reference to the moving of graves by Armenian families; the area initially housed over 10,000 elaborately carved khachkars (cross stones), one of which is pictured on the album’s cover, provided by historian Argam Aivazian’s archive.

On ‘Miracle’, Sarkissian samples atmospheres from the post-Soviet Armenian comedy film ‘Կիսանդրի’ (Kisandri). She takes this opportunity to lighten the mood a little, powdering her smudged samples with tightly edited breaks and bass thumps. It’s not until the album’s middle section that the duduk, perhaps Armenia’s best-known instrument, makes its appearance. Its familiar reedy tones, popularized by Djivan Gasparyan on his many Hollywood soundtrack appearances, emerge on ‘Unraveling (Interlude)’, weaving through the acidic ‘Zephyr’ and ‘Far from the eye far from the Heart’, a post-punk inspired stomper. Sarkissian mutates the instrument almost beyond recognition, pitching and layering it into a voice-like wail that creeps between her woody, dancefloor-primed percussion on the former, and turning it into a gentle, ghostly moan on the latter. And she brings ‘Remnants’ to a close with two of her most cryptic tracks, marrying digital kanun strings with Soleiman’s resonant tenor hums on ‘What Solace Can I Give’, and looping the same saxophone sounds until they dissolve into the air on the beatless closer ‘…nothing matters more than touching you although i haven’t touched you yet’.

It’s an album that ties up Sarkissian’s various interests and experiences, finding a romantic, poetic glimmer of light in history’s darkness. But most of all, ‘Remnants’ is about the optimism of starting anew, and rebuilding a life from the pieces of everything that’s been left behind.

Naoki Zushi. Perhaps best known for his stellar guitar contributions to psych folk group, Nagisa Ni Te, Zushi has had a parallel career, for several decades, slowly releasing solo albums that spotlight his exultant guitar playing. Originally released to CD only by Shinji Shibayama of Nagisa Ni Te’s Org imprint in 2018, IV has Zushi playing and writing at a peak, its six songs slowly unfurling with a kind of paradoxical understated grandeur. This is psychedelic guitar music at its most paced and considered, yet given to flights of inspiration, and in this respect, Zushi sits within a lineage of guitarists who’ve used their instrument both as textural anchor and improvisatory tool – think of figures like Phil Manzanera and Robert Fripp, but also Roy Montgomery, Liz Harris of Grouper, even Tom Verlaine on his instrumental solo albums. Like those artists, Zushi locates moments of deep emotional resonance amidst luxuriant textural and melodic exploration. Zushi’s history stretches back to the mid 1970s. While for many, he first appeared on the scene as a founding member of noise legends Hijokaidan, alongside Jojo Hiroshige, his musical contributions predate that encounter. He started out playing progressive rock and improvised music, making home recordings of when he was in high school. He was a member of Rasenkaidan (Spiral Staircase) alongside Hiroshige and Idiot (Kenichi Takayama), the group that soon mutated into Hijokaidan (Emergency Staircase). Zushi and Takayama would soon form Idiot O’Clock, in 1982; Zushi also led his own Naoki Zushi Unit, starting in 1983. But for many, Zushi’s first significant appearance on record was as a member of Shinji Shibayama’s mid-eighties psych-pop group, Hallelujahs, whose sole album was recently reissued on vinyl. That group mutated into Nagisa Ni Te, and Zushi has played a significant role as their lead guitarist for several decades. His own solo music has appeared sporadically – Paradise (1987), Phenomenal Luciferin (1998), III (2005) and IV, with a few recent, meditative offerings, For My Friends’ Sleep (2021) and Nocturnes (2022). With IV, though, Zushi achieved something remarkable, a kind of extended exploration of the time-altering properties of echoplexed, hypnotically spiralling guitar interplay. The opening ‘Mirror’, “a song about the mirror inside me,” Zushi explains, starts out as a lush psych-folk song, slow and gentle, but soon takes to the skies with a cat’s cradle of Fripp-esque guitars, before thick, droning chords sweep the song to a drowsy coda. ‘Nocturne’ weaves silver skeins of guitar melody around a cyclical chord pattern; it gathers energy and quiet intensity through insistent repetition. The rest of the album explores the nuance Zushi can draw out of simple elements, building on what ‘Mirror’ and ‘Nocturne’ offer – the profundity of a chord change; the melancholy of a few quietly sighed words; the exhilaration of a guitar solo bursting out of the speakers; the subtle shifts in emotional register offered by tone and touch. Throughout, there’s something quiet, yet ineffable, shading the contours of the songs, such that it makes perfect sense when Zushi says, “What I want to express through music may be ‘sense of mystery’.” A few of the songs had their basic parts recorded at LM Studio and Studio Nemu with Shibayama and Masako Takeda joining on bass and drums, respectively; much of the album, however, was tracked at Zushi’s home studio. That seems appropriate for a collection of songs that are expansive in their intimacy. Asked what drove the sessions, Zushi answers, “I thought I’d make IV an album that particularly focuses on the guitar play.” And focus it does, as Zushi’s sky-scraping, soaring, elemental tone is front and centre throughout. But these are no guitar heroics; rather, Zushi uses the guitar as conduit and diviner, a tool for spirit location, and IV is his most eloquent expression yet of such singular magic.

"Hevn III emerges from the shadows of Norway’s underground with a debut album that is nothing short of a sonic assault. This relentless black metal offering is a testament to the trio's pitch-black sovereign hatred, channeled through raw, primal aggression. Drawing on themes of hatred, magick, misanthropy, and the philosophical musings of Blake, Nietzsche, and Crowley, Hevn III crafts a soundscape that is both chaotic and deeply unsettling. For those who have encountered Hevn III live, the sheer intensity of their performance is unforgettable. Their sound harks back to an era when black metal was raw, dissonant, and unfiltered, characterized by a tight, sulphurous noise that gnaws at the soul. This debut album plunges listeners into a world where dissonance is king, and every riff resonates with venomous intent. Hevn III isn’t just an album; it’s a ritual of misanthropic fury, destined to leave a lasting scar on the black metal landscape."

"Hevn III emerges from the shadows of Norway’s underground with a debut album that is nothing short of a sonic assault. This relentless black metal offering is a testament to the trio's pitch-black sovereign hatred, channeled through raw, primal aggression. Drawing on themes of hatred, magick, misanthropy, and the philosophical musings of Blake, Nietzsche, and Crowley, Hevn III crafts a soundscape that is both chaotic and deeply unsettling. For those who have encountered Hevn III live, the sheer intensity of their performance is unforgettable. Their sound harks back to an era when black metal was raw, dissonant, and unfiltered, characterized by a tight, sulphurous noise that gnaws at the soul. This debut album plunges listeners into a world where dissonance is king, and every riff resonates with venomous intent. Hevn III isn’t just an album; it’s a ritual of misanthropic fury, destined to leave a lasting scar on the black metal landscape."

"Hevn III emerges from the shadows of Norway’s underground with a debut album that is nothing short of a sonic assault. This relentless black metal offering is a testament to the trio's pitch-black sovereign hatred, channeled through raw, primal aggression. Drawing on themes of hatred, magick, misanthropy, and the philosophical musings of Blake, Nietzsche, and Crowley, Hevn III crafts a soundscape that is both chaotic and deeply unsettling. For those who have encountered Hevn III live, the sheer intensity of their performance is unforgettable. Their sound harks back to an era when black metal was raw, dissonant, and unfiltered, characterized by a tight, sulphurous noise that gnaws at the soul. This debut album plunges listeners into a world where dissonance is king, and every riff resonates with venomous intent. Hevn III isn’t just an album; it’s a ritual of misanthropic fury, destined to leave a lasting scar on the black metal landscape."

The making of a maiden album can be a capricious process. One moment of outright musical flow paired with another period of sustained creative struggle are feats experienced by seasoned producers the world over. So when Miraclis was forced to hole away in his makeshift studio - in the midst of a global pandemic - the stage was set for something magical. Now it will see the light of day for the very first time.

Having released two singles on Secret Teachings to critical acclaim already this year, Chilean talent Miraclis will accomplish a milestone achievement in July with the release of his debut album: Origin Of Truth.

Difficult experiences were fundamental to the creation of such work, as were Miraclis’ inherent musical interests. He explains: “Origin Of Truth had its birth during the pandemic. I created it as a way of communicating to myself the sensations and feelings that were spinning around my head at the time. I've always been inspired by Bristol trip hop, as well as classical rock, and these genres definitely contributed to the making of these melancholic tracks. In a way I wanted to fuse all the musical influences that were part of my childhood, up until this point now, so this album really means a lot to me. It was my way of communicating, when there was a lack of social contact and communication itself was hard to come by.”

It's this meditative quality that initially drew Damian Lazarus to the project. “It’s a record that has its roots in electronic music, but it’s a very alternative, very deep, melancholic album. I find it both soothing and stirring at the same time, and that’s a quite interesting juxtaposition in that it feels edgy but delicious at the same time,” says Lazarus. “The fact that this was written in this place surrounded by the most incredible desert landscapes makes this a very important piece of work to me. It doesn’t sit in any particular genre, which is why it feels right for a Secret Teachings release. It hints at so many genres that I as a DJ am quite into, and it feels like a first as it’s unique and unclassifiable. That mystical, esoteric, edgy feel makes this a perfect release for the label.”

Sonnet opens proceedings, with ghostly vocals residing next to raw instrumental elements throughout. Miraclis’ signature guitar riffs soon converge on saddened keys, paving the way for Scienter. It takes the form of an instrument-based, electronic-inspired cut, building slowly before reaching a crescendo midway through via an enrapturing acoustic solo.

Floating Child comes next, brimming with a darker intensity courtesy of broody synth pulses and rhythmic hi-hats, as Shiver arrives next. There’s a rock-leaning sensibility to the piece that gives way to earnest lyrical offerings, opening swiftly into the breakbeat-esque world of Perceptions. Hard-hitting drums act as the focal point, with electric chords adding depth and intrigue, whilst Bright continues in a similarly heartfelt vein.

Introspective pads leave us feeling pensive, ahead of Interstellar taking us on a celestial journey through warped bass tones. Acting as the LP’s penultimate number, it’s a four-and-a-half minute showcase of guitar-based musical goodness and one that perfectly sets the stage for Trapped, a closing saga of suitably emotive proportions.

Miraclis earned his stripes as a DJ under the name Max Clementi in his native Chile, as well as Spain after a stint at the Barcelona SAE Institute. Playing and writing music since his parents gave him his first guitar at age twelve, he found himself inspired by synth wave, electronic pop, trip hop, and psychedelic rock of the ‘80s and ‘90s, drenching himself in music by the likes of Massive Attack, Tricky, Depeche Mode, and Nine Inch Nails. However, it wasn’t until he had to move back to Pucón to take care of his father during the pandemic that he began working on what would become Origin Of Truth.

Serendipity seems to play a large part in Crosstown Rebels’ new label Secret Teachings. Just look at the story of how Damian met Miraclis in the first place. It involved a chance midnight encounter in Pucón, Chile at a woodland campfire after the DJ was locked out of his hotel room. This meeting of minds was the start of a remarkable friendship, where Miraclis invited Lazarus to stay at his house and break bread with his family. The two kept in touch, exchanging music and ideas as a result.

Dischi Fantom’s Sussurra Luce series, blurring the boundaries between text, music and voice, returns with their fifth instalment, an expanded version of Hanne Lippard’s “Talk Shop”. Sculpting a fascinating bridge between radically experimental sound practice, conceptual art, and sound poetry, across its two sides the Berlin based multidisciplinary artist taps an almost dada sensibility, delivering a suite of poems and texts where singular words and sentences are looped and repeated creating a sensory experience of the efficiency and stress found in our private as well as public life.

Roughly a year ago, we had the pleasure of exploring the first two releases from Dischi Fantom’s emerging Sussurra Luce series, Ginevra Bompiani, Caterina Barbieri, and Tomoko Sauvage’s “Il Calore Animale” and Francesco Cavaliere’s “Zoomachia Disc 1”. An extension of the Milan based cultural platform Fantom’s broad and diverse activities (exhibitions, installations, performances, etc.) across numerous artistic disciplines, the series, curated by Francesco Cavaliere and Massimo Torrigiani, delves into the “science of imagination”, working with contemporary authors to explore and blur the boundaries between text, music and voice. Now the brilliant series returns with its latest entry, the Berlin based multidisciplinary artist Hanne Lippard’s “Talk Shop”. Released in a limited edition of 200 copies and coming with an LP-sized booklet, it combines orality and textuality with the idea of loop and repetition to explore the notion of time, and it’s a stunning gesture of performative poetics that plums a startling range of subjects through its sonorous forms.

Working across the fields of text, vocal performance, sound installation, printed objects and sculpture, for more than a decade Hanne Lippard has deployed language as the raw material for her work. Working within a practice that rests at the juncture of the spoken and written word, drawing upon content appropriated from the public sphere (found text) intertwined with her own words, Lippard’s work investigates how the rise in digital communication and mediation reprograms our relationship to language, presenting the subsequent fragility of language - its flaws, oddities, and potential for misinterpretation - and its attempts to convey meaning and sense.

“Talk Shop”, the fifth instalment of Dischi Fantom’s Sussurra Luce series and Lippard’s third recorded release - building upon the ground of 2020's “Work”, issued by Collapsing Market, and 2021's “PigeonPostParis”, released by Boomkat Editions - began as a live performance. Combining orality and textuality with the idea of loop and repetition to explore the notion of time, its relationship with the world of work today, and its personification through the experience of the human body - anonymity as the spearhead of the digital economy - the conceptual underpinnings of the piece depart from the notion that the human voice has become commodified by the ubiquitous nature of contemporary productivity, and intertwined with the mechanics of capital - the voices of satnavs, smart speakers and voicemail systems - while the written word has become increasingly anonymous online.

Addressing vocal anonymity as a spearhead of the digital economy, Lippard’s “Talk Shop” - regarded by the artist as “a compilation of poems and texts where singular words and sentences are looped and repeated creating a sensory experience of the efficiency and stress found in our private as well as public life” - taps an almost dada sensibility through its unexpected layers of meanings drawn from a maximalized approach to the potential of the human voice, creating an engrossing and challenging listen from the first sounding to the last, that continues to reveal itself and unfold with every return.

Sculpting a fascinating bridge between radically experimental sound practice, conceptual art, and sound poetry, it culminates as one of the most strikingly singular creative gestures we’re likely to encounter this year. Highly recommended and not to be missed.

Hanne Lippard (Milton Keynes, 1984) explores the social forms that govern discourse. Her artistic practice, which mainly takes the form of reading and sound installations, investigates the voice as an instrument of emancipation and alienation in times of hyper-connectivity. By mixing personal thoughts and appropriating texts from advertising, slogans and newspaper articles, the text becomes a mix of private and public that regains inventiveness and authorship through the use of the voice, becoming a body of its own. Her recent artistic research has focused on the use of the female body as a container of sounds, on the conscious and unconscious automation of speech and language.

Brilliant new Techno release from the LEMOS Camp, Andc at the
controls.

When the quartet of Luke Martin, Gabriel Salomon, Klaus Janek and Andy Graydon gathered to record an afternoon of sessions in Andy's studio, it was both the result of years of cultivation and an afterthought. Klaus and Andy had been long-time, and now long-distance, collaborators since their shared years in Berlin. That city was also where Andy was introduced to Gabriel at one of his solo performances by their mutual friend, the painter Paul McDevitt. Years passed, and cities. After meeting and working together in Boston, Luke and Andy both found themselves transplanted to Minneapolis. And by happenstance Gabriel arrived a few years later. A new conversation was just starting to emerge when Klaus announced his arrival, stopping by on a North American tour. Suddenly the four got a chance to listen and play together performing on a bill at a local gallery, in one configuration or another, for the first time. Packing up after that show, Klaus leaned over to ask, "isn't there a moment we could meet again, to play?"

Nothing was expected, and so anything was possible. The circumstances lent their gathering an impromptu but grounded feeling, a unique mix of chance encounter and reunion. As befits an opening encounter, the focus was as often on listening to the unfolding sonic conversation as it was on making a recording. Everyone seemed to intuit the direction despite not knowing where they were headed. The four faced each other in a loose circle surrounded by speakers and microphones pointed haphazardly, as likely to catch the dog padding around curiously as the bowing of strings or rattling of a cymbal. The permissive spirit of the day was declared early, just before rolling, when Gabriel asked if we should close the studio windows or leave them open. "You know what my answer is," replied Luke. If it's in the nature of a recording to become fixed, to be bottled up, let us at least leave open the windows to hear what might be coming next.

Where would a painter paint if it were not on a white canvas? Where would a composer compose if it were not on the stave and the spaces in between the lines? How would a musician play his instrument if there were no melodies composed, written down, painted for him to follow?

The magic of art needs a frame, a somewhat solid container to hold the freedom that can only be found once we integrate some form of structure. And that also holds in every other area of life. We all need a frame, a structure, a rhythm, or else, we fall apart. This human form needs the body, and yet it transcends the limitations of the body - through art.

Consistency being one of them seems oftentimes less tangible, for it resides more in the act of doing, and showing up for the practice, for devoting energy and presence. Strangely, if we consistently show up for our practice, regardless of its form, the solid frame of the hour we devote to playing the instrument, learning a language, doing the sport, sitting silently for that meditation: It feels different every single time. It feels new every single time.

The repetitive consistency in being present again and again allows for nothing short of magic to happen. Magic feeds consistency. Consistency feeds magic. Consistency sets a foundation that strengthens over time. It allows us to slowly but surely develop any kind of skill, to find and hence to embody expertise. On the fertile grounds of such a solid foundation, creativity fosters, and innovation blossoms.

Establishing consistent rituals and routines can bring a sense of comfort and safety into every-day-life. For routine beholds repetition and its frame enables our experience within to change. In the familiar, we dare to explore, maybe even experiment, merely because a part of us remembers we depart from, and always return to, a safe space. We do not get lost. We do not fall apart. As we practice, again and again, we build resilience in overcoming obstacles or literally persevering through challenging situations and stretches of time.

While consistency gifts steadiness and stability, its overdose risks to result in what may appear as uniformity. It feels like constantly - consistently - dancing on the fine line of freedom within a structure. Life is filled with unexpected twists and turns, adjustments need to be made to accommodate change and avoid rigidity. By striking a balance between consistency and flexibility, we can create harmony in our lives, just like a beautiful melody that flows smoothly from one note to the next.

Within the magical waves of music, skills are needed, too. Consistency is key to show up and do the work. It frames the freedom of magic that resides beyond and only beyond effort. Learning to play an instrument, learning to sing, does never happen within the blink of the eye. It takes time. Time to show up for the practice, to do precisely that: practice. Again and again, every single time, again and again. Precision feeds perfection that falls apart inside the structure of a song, a line, a rhythm, dissolving into magic.

Consistency in practicing, in composing and sharing music with the world regardless of the form allows any musician to refine his style, to carve out his uniqueness. For any artistic expression is, after all: Unique. And this uniqueness is born inside the vessel of any structure, over and over again. Sharing music in the form of new releases and public performances nourishes the bond between artist and audience. And for that to unfold, both parties need to show up - while the underlying beat of this never-ending practice is presence fuelled by consistency.

Tribe 2000 by Phil Ranelin & Wendell Harrison, released 8 November 2024.

Rian Treanor keeps knocking new doors of possibility with his new label Electronic Music Club and its initial focus on Rotherham Sight & Sound, participants of a community-based initiative in their shared post-industrial home town Rotherham. Utilising software synths designed by Rian and his dad Mark Fell, the trio twist out vortices of shearing, asymmetric anarchitecture, rudely resembling the sort of hyper-contemporary styles alluded to in Rian’s solo works, but inflected with cranky timing and an intuitive freedom that bears extraordinary results, especially when considering the fact the trio had no prior musical ability, and only encountered electronic music a few years ago.

After a couple of years of practice and performance, ‘Action Potential’ now firms up their quicksilver sound for club and home buzzes with seven actions that warp and morph from the needling jolts and hoof of ‘Pass The Go’, to shuddering detonations in ‘Dial’, each with a properly electrifying force carrying a genuine futureshock. Working within Rian’s systems-based framework, Anne, Kathleen, and Mick deploy a tactile feel for the machines, finely honed over the course of many sessions at the Rotherham Sight & Sound facility, that uses their visual impairments to synaesthetic advantage.

Between the wickedly metallic ragga swivel of ‘Hold’, the diffractive chain reactions of ‘When It Ends’, and more tempered, sloshing sensuality of ‘30 Seconds’, the trio follow their noses down wormholes that manifest an ideal of accessibility and expressionism within electronic music contexts that Rian and Mark have long worked towards, with Anne, Kathleen and Mick’s relative lack of cultural conditioning in this paradigm prompting them to act on pure instinct

"Early Doors documents many of my travels, interactions and celebrates the wonderful connections I've made through music since 2007. From Glasgow to São Paulo and back again, many of the tracks included have been in my life for years at this point and remain obsessions. Some were lying unheard on hard drives, others tucked away in a corner of the internet. They’ve all reached my attention through a combination of lasting friendships, chance encounters and staying curious. After appearing on the occasional mix over the years, it's a real buzz to share them with you now in a more formal format. Musically you’ll find synths, dub, gay electronics, self taught piano compositions, improvised jams and intriguing covers." Andrew Thomson

Tristan Arp returns to Wisdom Teeth with his sophomore LP: ‘a pool, a portal’ - a vast, multi-dimensional record of pin-drop rhythms, hushed vocals and swirling ambience that maps out a vivid limbic space between the natural and the digital worlds. The LP began life while Tristan was still living in Mexico City, and was subsequently finished in New York. Carrying on from where his acclaimed debut ‘Sculpturegardening’ left off, the record marries hallucinatory modular synths with cello, found sound and spoken word, creating a rich sonic world in which machines mimic nature and acoustic instruments merge with their digital counterparts. Across the record’s narrative arc, listeners are invited to imagine a future world in which nature and machines collaborate to rewild and search for new modes of being. Far from apocalyptic, the artist’s vision is yearning and hopeful - a reflection on how we might evolve to overcome our very human limitations. “Hopefully we can all open a little portal into another world and integrate what we learn into our own”, Tristan offers. True to his word, Tristan shared much of the creative process with his machines, using modular generative processes to create randomised, improvisatory moments that he could collaborate on as artist and observer. Most of the tracks were captured in single takes as live performances and improvisations that were subsequently edited and cut down. Speaking of ‘Life After Humans’ - the record’s beguiling 10-minute centrepiece - Tristan recalls: “I neglected to record multi-track outs, but it was actually super empowering to be left with just a stereo track: I couldn’t mix individual elements even if I wanted to after the recording, but I’m happy I inadvertently limited myself in that way.” Alongside his own voice, the record features a stunning appearance from fast-rising Guatemalan cellist and vocalist, Mabe Fratti. The pair met in Mexico City in 2020, where she helped Tristan to learn cello - an encounter that ultimately went on to inform the recordings that made up ‘Sculpturegardening’. Her appearance on ‘a pool, a portal’ marks a full-circle moment in their creative relationship. The album’s artwork features photography by Zhang An - a photographer based in Nanjing, China. Despite their appearances, these are unmanipulated photos of real-world ice formations. As is the case throughout ‘a pool, a portal’, the lines between the natural and the artificial are playfully indistinct.

The 2015 edition of Winnipeg’s send + receive festival, focussed on rhythm, turned out to be a generative meeting of minds. There, Mark Fell encountered the music of Will Guthrie, a meeting that was eventually to result in the frenetic acoustic drumkit and digital synthesis pairing heard on Infoldings and Diffractions (2020). At the same festival, Limpe Fuchs first heard and appreciated the music of Mark Fell, planting the seed of a collaboration that came to fruition when Fell (along with his son Rian Treanor) visited Fuchs at her home in Peterskirchen, Germany in September 2022. Black Truffle is pleased to announce the release of the results of this extensive session in the audacious form of a triple LP, housing over two hours of music across its six sides. The collaboration might appear unlikely: what common ground could exist between Fuchs, classically trained pianist, legend of improvised music, instrument builder and sound sculptor active since the 1960s, whose group Anima Sound connected the dots between free jazz, krautrock and ritual, and Fell, proponent of radical computer music, known for his bracingly austere productions that twist remnants of club music into algorithmic stutters? For all their seeming disparity in technology, approach and background, the music on Dessogia/Queetch/Fauch makes it immediately evident the pair share a great deal in their essentially percussive approach and ability to, in Fuch’s phrase, ‘establish silence’. Recording at her home studio, Fuchs had the use of her entire array of instruments, found, invented, and traditional, and treats the listener to some that don’t often make their way to concerts, including extensive passages performed (with Gundis Stalleicher) on pieces of wooden parquetry. Alongside metallic, wooden and skin percussion of all kinds, sounded and struck in every conceivable way, we also hear bamboo flute, viola, and Fuchs’ distinctive free-form vocalisations. Fell also stretched himself, with his contributions ranging from characteristically fizzing pitched percussive pops to swarms of sliding tones and abstract digital noise. Showing both remarkable restraint and improvisational freedom, much of the music consists of duets between a single percussion instrument and a distinctive mode of digital sound, often lingering in one timbral-rhythmic space for minutes at a time. Improvisational forward momentum coexists with a free-floating, wandering quality. On opener ‘Dessogia I’, the shimmering almost-gilssandi tones of Fuchs’ enormous set of microtonally tuned metal tubes ripples across Fell’s rubbery pulse, which moves up the frequency spectrum as Fuchs becomes more animated and switches to horn. At some points, as on the metallic chiming tones that open ‘Fauch I’, only the unexpected dynamic behaviour of Fell’s sounds distinguish them from Fuchs’ acoustic instruments. At others, like on ‘Queetch III’, the waves of sliding tones and noise textures are bracingly synthetic, joined by piercing squeaks and scrapes from Fuchs’ metal objects. Epic in scope, immersing the listener in an entirely distinctive world of sounds, and thrillingly bold in its melding of the most ancient musical procedures with cutting edge technologies, Dessogia/Queetch/Fauch is an unexpected major statement from two of the great mavericks of contemporary music.