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Mit dem Comeback-Album "The Modern Age" (2019) fanden Sleeper zu ihrer Identität zurück, mit dem neuen Album "End Of The World" bezieht die Band Stellung. Die zutiefst persönlichen Songs bewegen sich von Witz, Nonchalance und der beobachtenden Erzählweise der 90er hin zu etwas Direktem, emotional Offenem und Unverstelltem. Die in Paris und Manchester entstandene, von Joe Cross (The Courteeners, Hurts, Louis Tomlinson, The Slow Readers Club) produzierte LP thematisiert Trauer, Reue, Einsamkeit und das Ringen ums Loslassen. Trotz aller Düsternis ist die Musik klanglich kühn und euphorisch; durch jeden Song ziehen sich Louise Weners charakteristisch-eingängigen Melodien und hymnischen Refrains.

Mit dem Comeback-Album "The Modern Age" (2019) fanden Sleeper zu ihrer Identität zurück, mit dem neuen Album "End Of The World" bezieht die Band Stellung. Die zutiefst persönlichen Songs bewegen sich von Witz, Nonchalance und der beobachtenden Erzählweise der 90er hin zu etwas Direktem, emotional Offenem und Unverstelltem. Die in Paris und Manchester entstandene, von Joe Cross (The Courteeners, Hurts, Louis Tomlinson, The Slow Readers Club) produzierte LP thematisiert Trauer, Reue, Einsamkeit und das Ringen ums Loslassen. Trotz aller Düsternis ist die Musik klanglich kühn und euphorisch; durch jeden Song ziehen sich Louise Weners charakteristisch-eingängigen Melodien und hymnischen Refrains.

I first encountered Pascal Comelade’s music thirty years ago—and nothing has sounded quite the same since. I was immediately captivated: he is an artist like no other, whose sincere and selfless love of music is always evident, especially in his tender reworkings of other people’s songs.

Comelade seems to work like a watchmaker: meticulous, precise, and obsessive—yet always drifting into something dreamlike. His music opens hidden doors, telling strange and beguiling stories filled with obscurity, kindness, and reserved humour.

Back then, my fascination was instinctive. Today, with a few more words at my disposal, I look to this exceptional 70-year-old French musician and feel exactly the same pull.

Métaphysique Du Hit-Parade is the first vinyl compilation devoted to Pascal Comelade’s favourite cover versions. It spans a forty-year career and traces sixty years of rock and roll history along the way. “Sheena Is a Punk Rocker” becomes a soft, soothing lullaby that may well have made the Ramones weep. Then there are his idiosyncratic tributes to Jonathan Richman (“Egyptian Reggae”) and The Kinks (“Sunny Afternoon”), alongside nods to formative heroes such as The Gun Club, Captain Beefheart, and MC5.

Two exclusive recordings stand out particularly: Bob Dylan’s “Girl from the North Country” and Nirvana’s “Come As You Are”—a song that shaped my early youth. Both were recorded especially for this release.

Jan Lankisch, January 2026

Death Is Not The End collaborate with Uzbek label Maqom Soul to deliver an LP counterpart to last year's mixtape of the same title, compiling specially picked & fully licensed individual belters from the ex-soviet studios of Central Asian republics between 1978 and 1989 - incl. Uzbek, Tajik, Kurdish & Uyghur artists pulling traditional folk motifs together with pop & rock and psych elements.

"These recordings do not form a smooth or coherent history. They feel more like a sequence of discoveries made at different moments and in different circumstances. Songs and instrumental pieces that once lived inside specific contexts radio broadcasts, philharmonic programs, touring routes now sit side by side, revealing hidden connections as well as clear fractures between them.

Nasiba Abdullaeva appears here as a voice from the end of an era. Trained within a conservatory system, she worked inside the format of the Soviet pop song while filling it with melodic logic that did not come from Moscow or Leningrad. Her voice is soft and sustained, shaped by Eastern melisma, and it never functions as decoration. Even in tightly structured songs there is a sense of resistance, an effort to preserve a musical language rooted in Uzbek tradition rather than fully adapted to an all Union standard.

The ensemble Sintez, later renamed Navo, represents a different path. Beginning as a student rock group, the band was gradually absorbed into the official VIA system with all its limitations and compromises. Yet it was precisely within those boundaries that Sintez and Navo developed a recognizable sound. Electric guitars and jazz rock harmonies do not overpower the folk material but remain in tension with it. Their recordings feel like negotiations between what the musicians wanted to play and what they were allowed to perform.

The Tajik ensemble Gulshan reflects an institutional approach carried to a high professional level. Formed under television and radio structures, the group treated folk material almost as a written score. Carefully constructed arrangements, close attention to orchestration, and restrained use of pop techniques define their sound. There is less spontaneity here, but a strong sense of discipline and structure, where national melody becomes part of a carefully controlled sonic framework.

Koma Wetan occupies a very different space. Formed in the 1970s, this Kurdish rock group approached poetry and folklore as tools of cultural assertion. Their psychedelic rock never feels like a stylistic borrowing. Instead it functions as a contemporary vessel for language and themes that might otherwise have remained unheard. Even today these recordings sound fragile and stubborn at the same time.

The Uyghur ensemble Yashlik, closely connected to a musical drama theatre, operated somewhere between stage performance and popular music. Their songs are built on folk melodies but shaped for wide audiences. What emerges is a constant attempt to preserve the recognizability of Uyghur musical identity without freezing it in a folkloric frame. Yashlik's music exists in a state of balance between representation and development.

Digging Central Asia does not attempt to establish hierarchies or offer a single wayof listening. Names and dates matter less than the sound itself. Tape noise, abrupt transitions, and unexpected timbres remain part of the material rather than flaws to be corrected. This music existed at the crossroads of multiple routes geographic, cultural, and ideological. Heard today in a new context, it no longer feels peripheral. Instead it stands as a reminder that the history of popular music is far more fragmented, layered, and polyphonic than it is usually allowed to be."

For his new full-length on Second End Records, Lyon-based artist Jonnnah turns deeply inward. Conceived as a form of therapy, as much as a reflection and a testimony, the record retraces a process of introspection and confrontation with one’s own history, looking back at origins, DNA, and the invisible ties that connect us to our ancestors, while opening paths toward new connections.

The double-sided structure of the album makes this journey tangible. The first side lingers in uncertainty : opaque atmospheres, fragmented rhythms, and restless textures mirror the doubts, questions, and fragile states of self-analysis. The second side, in contrast, embraces clarity and resolution, dense yet luminous soundscapes where reconciliation and acceptance take shape, culminating in The Blue Comet, a piece charged with finality and revelation.

Opening with the multipart suite N-zero, symbolizing the beginning of therapy, and closing with O-one, evoking the soul’s original purity, the record traces a complete emotional and spiritual cycle. Between them, the third edition of Insomnia Never Ends once again portrays the struggle between sleep and the irresistible pull of musical distraction, a fragile tension that runs through the album as a whole.

The record condenses Jonnnah’s language into something rawer and more direct. Layers of dub and dub sonic resonate against ethereal ambient passages, while techno impulses maintain tension and forward motion. Each piece feels at once intimate and expansive, designed as much for solitary listening as for collective experience.

A new chapter in Jonnnah’s trajectory, the album is a document of transformation : from shadow to light, from questioning to acceptance.

The long-overdue revival of Bim Sherman’s catalog begins here. These essential recordings will become widely available again for the first time in decades, opening a new chapter in the appreciation of one of Jamaica’s most distinctive voices and representing a major moment for reggae and dub aficionados around the world. This reissue series will not only preserve his legacy but will also offer listeners the chance to experience the depth and timeless resonance of Sherman’s work in its full glory.

Bim Sherman—born Jarret Lloyd Vincent, in Westmoreland, Jamaica—holds a unique place in reggae history. Emerging in the mid 70s, his ethereal, haunting vocal style quickly set him apart from his contemporaries. He was soon collaborating with the top producers and musicians of the era, including Adrian Sherwood and the On-U Sound collective, bridging the gap between roots reggae and experimental dub and laying the groundwork for the fusion of Jamaican sounds with the vibrant underground scene in the UK. His career, from Kingston to London to Mumbai, was marked by an artistic daring and spiritual intensity that has earned him enduring respect across generations.

The centerpiece of this reissue campaign is Ghetto Dub from 1988, a record that distills Sherman’s artistry into its most potent form. Originally released in a limited number, the album embodies the stark yet soulful beauty of dub production. With its reverb-drenched drums, cavernous basslines, and echo-laden atmospherics, Ghetto Dub transforms Sherman’s various tracks into spectral presences that drift in and out of the mix. The arrangement and production—minimal yet profoundly textured—captures both the raw urgency of Jamaican street culture and the forward-looking experimentation of the UK dub scene. Each track unfolds like a meditation, balancing grit with grace, density with space. Ghetto Dub is more than an album; it is an immersive soundscape that reaffirms Bim Sherman as one of reggae’s most otherworldly and visionary figures.

Posh End Music boss Fear-E returns with his second album ‘Descent into Ascension (Snapshots of a Mental State)’ this February. Recorded during a period of withdrawal and isolation, the release serves as a diary of a mental state as the producer worked through a period of challenging mental health. Here, he hones in on his primary love of techno bringing in influences of Bangaltar-ish French house and disco and also pays homage to EBM originators Nitzer Ebb.

Already in its title, Plume Girl’s debut thoroughly lets things go and takes them in – all at once. “In the End We Begin” is the first solo full-length from Sowmya Somanath, a Hindustani classical singer/composer and half of alt-pop duo Felt Out. Plume Girl’s music takes inspiration from the semi-regular musical form of the rāga (translated as ‘tinting’), invoking mood and atmosphere, each rāga thought to have its own distinct nature and personality, brought to life through improvisation. String swells and Somanath’s searching vocalisations envelop every track’s own blissful chamber. Exploring imagined binaries along the way — eastern vs. western, traditional vs. experimental, acoustic vs. electronic, Sowmya sees music as a curious dialogue between divine Self and an invisible reality. Beneath the illusion of a chromatic world, there remains a blissful oneness.

Plume Girl’s songs sit between ambient Hindustani music and emotionally-encumbered pop. In front of backdrops comprising sundrenched drones or glitches, sketched out beats, and criss-crossing glissandi or flutes, Somanath both murmurs intimately and spirals upwards into soaring choruses. The lyrics ponder innermost thoughts, never more literally than on the blissful emo folk closing track: ‘In my heart I know / what’s in my heart / I know what’s in my…’

“When I began writing this music, I was fresh off of an experience that completely twisted my reality,” explains Somanath. It was the end of a years-long relationship, and the blossoming of a long-buried love hidden in plain sight: “a best friend of a decade, my musical partner, someone who had always seen me completely…At once, I felt grief and loss. At once, excitement and love.”

Were FEX the Wildest & Weirdest German New Wave Band in 1984?

Few cult mysteries in modern music have captured the internet's imagination quite like "The Most Mysterious Song on the Internet." Eventually identified as "Subways of Your Mind" by the elusive German band FEX, the track became a viral sensation decades after its creation-and even made its way into a recent Hollywood blockbuster (Black Phone 2).

Now, two more lost FEX recordings have emerged from an old demo cassette: "Dead End" and "Sarah." And they're every bit as electrifying as the legend suggests.

On both songs, guitarist and main songwriter Ture Rückwardt joins forces on lead vocals with his former wife and musical partner Ilona Rückwardt, forming a vocal pairing that channels raw energy and eerie chemistry. What they deliver are two of the most urgent, adrenaline-fueled post-punk artifacts you're likely to hear this year-even if they were recorded more than forty years ago.

Opening with a sharp, melodic guitar solo, "Dead End" bursts forward with uptempo drive-catchy, fierce, and full of momentum. Apparently inspired by Orwell's 1984, its lyrics depict urban desolation-loneliness, homelessness, hopelessness-yet still shimmer with defiance in lines like, "Truth is amazing - hoping is like waiting."

The second track, "Sarah," dives even deeper into darkness. Mixing post-punk intensity with psychedelic textures, Rückwardt tells an imaginary story of a couple lost in drugs and spiraling through a bad trip, only to wake and realize that sobriety offers little comfort-the real world itself can be just as brutal and offers no easy escape.

Neither song makes the slightest concession to commercial trends. Instead, they feel utterly uncompromising-wild, strange, and defiantly timeless. In a world obsessed with polish and playlists, "Dead End" and "Sarah" sound like transmissions from a different planet.

Both tracks were originally recorded as demos in 1984 in the band's rehearsal room, with Hase engineering. The newly restored versions preserve the raw spirit of the original tapes while adding subtle layers to enhance their atmosphere without losing the authentic 1980s sound. FEX hint that the untouched demo versions might surface later, possibly on a second volume of their archival

The definition of the word 'fado' is technically 'fate', though the Portuguese meaning bound up with this term is more complex. The music itself can be fairly closely compared with that of Greek rebetika - also the American blues or the original working-class tango music of Argentina and Uruguay - and similarly takes it's common subject matter from the various cruel realities of the world. Though perhaps what distinguishes fado in character is it's often poised acceptance of the pains of life rather than protestation or resistance - as writer Paul Vernon says "It speaks with a quiet dignity born of the realisation that any mortal desire or plan is at risk of destruction by powers beyond individual control"

Death Is Not The End compile here a spine-tingling collection of fado recordings, taken from records issued in the mid 1910s through to the 1930s. The fado's Lisbon and Coimbra variants are presented here by some of the music's earliest recorded stars - spanning a time period leading up to the emergence of the fado's all-conquering star, Amália Rodrigues.

Fantastisches Album mit 12 Liedern der Begena-Musiker Tafese Tesfaye, Admassu Fikre, Seyoum Mengistu und Alemu Aga. ""Die Begena ist eines jener seltenen Musikinstrumente, das seit über 5800 Jahren existiert. Faszinierend an ihr ist nicht nur ihr Alter, sondern auch die Tatsache, dass sich ihre Herstellung und ihr Verwendungszweck über all die Jahre hinweg nicht verändert haben. ... Während des Derg-Regimes, nach dem Sturz von Kaiser Haile Selassie, wurde sie nicht mehr als wichtig erachtet. ... Aber besonders in den letzten 15-16 Jahren hat es eine Renaissance erlebt. Es gibt viele, meist junge Begena-Spieler, von denen ich über 500 Schüler unterrichtet habe. Es gibt auch Begena-Bauer, die das Instrument für neue Schüler bauen. Das Interessante an diesem Instrument ist, dass die Musik, der Klang, der aus diesem Instrument kommt, die besondere Kraft hat, Menschen zur Konzentration, zur Ruhe und zum Nachdenken zu bewegen. Das ist eine besondere Qualität. Man muss kein Äthiopier sein, jeder kann es hören, es wird ihn automatisch zur Ruhe und Konzentration anregen."" – Alemu Aga (aus einem Interview mit Pit Budde für den WDR, Köln, 2008)

Another DINTE tape curated by cult WFMU show and blogger Bodega Pop; Gary Sullivan's long-running project rooted in a passion for digging for music in bodegas and cell-phone stores across NYC's boroughs. This edition focuses in on late 1990s and early 00s hip-hop & rnb from across Southeastern Asia.

"While on a work trip to Chicago in the mid-2000s, I was craving a bowl of pho. A bit of sleuthing led me to hop on the red line "L" up to Argyle Street, ground zero of Chicago's Little Saigon. In the 1960s, Chicago restaurateur Jimmy Wong invested in property on Argyle Street with a vision to build the city's new Chinatown, a kind of mall with pagodas, trees, and reflecting pools. In 1971, the Hip Sing Association, a labor/criminal organization, established itself in the area, and along with Wong, they bought up 80% of the buildings on a three-block stretch of the street. Wong reportedly broke both hips in an accident, leaving his dream to wither; in 1979, Charlie Soo of the Asian American Small Business Association brought it back to life.

Soo expanded the area into a vibrant mix of Chinese, Vietnamese, and other Southeast Asian businesses, pushing for renovations, including an Argyle station facelift and the Taste of Argyle festival. At the time I exited the station and crossed the street to get a better look at a shop with a poster for A Vertical Ray of the Sun in the window, the area was home to some 37,000 Vietnamese residents.

Opening the door, I was gobsmacked by a cavernous Southeast Asian media store, bigger than any I'd been to in Dallas, Montreal, New York, or Seattle. I spent some time at the bins, pulling out collections by some of my then-favorite singers — Giao Linh, Khánh Ly, Phương Dung — before approaching the register to ask the young woman behind the counter if the they carried any Vietnamese rap. It was a longshot, I knew, but if such a thing existed on physical media and anyone carried it, it would be this place.

'Have you heard Vietnamese rap?' she replied, her tone of voice and facial expression betraying a comically exaggerated level of distaste. I admitted my ignorance but assured her that I had long cultivated a high threshold for cheesy pop music of all kinds and genuinely tended to like hip hop from around the world.

She rolled her eyes and pointed to an area I had missed. I walked toward a far corner of the store and knelt over a small box on the floor sparsely populated with CDs, VCDs, and cassettes. I pulled out half a dozen Vietnamese hip hop compilations and a strange-looking CD with a cavalcade of odd typefaces in a queasy multitude of colors: THAILAND RAP HIT, it boasted, with 泰國 "燒香" 勁歌金曲 below it. The information on the back provided an address in Kuala Lumpur and the titles in Thai and English translation. The first track included three simplified Chinese characters after the English-language version of the title, "The Chinese Association": 自己人.

WTF was going on here? Walking back to the register, I waved the CD, asking "What's up with this one?" She gave me a look. I placed it on the counter so she could bask in the cover's full glory. She shrugged. "I'm guessing it's Thai rap?" She looked disappointed in me when I said I'd take it.

It turned out to be a Malaysian pressing of half-Chinese Thai hip hop artist Joey Boy's third album, Fun Fun Fun from 1996, and it completely changed my sense what the genre could sound like. The rapper's self-assured, effortless, silly-but-cool rapid-fire delivery weaved in and out of the most bizarre, antic beats I'd ever heard. The six Vietnamese hip hop CDs were a mixed bag, mostly "serious" sounding mimicry of US rapping over predictable production, but the highs were very high. When I got home and listened to it all, I made a point to find as much hip hop from this part of the world as I could.

The tracks collected here provide a limited but potent reflection of the two-decade ascendency
and ultimate world-takeover of hip hop, as it displaced rock and its endless variants for millions of listeners. This not a fair and balanced overview of regional production: I've only included tracks from Cambodia, Indonesia, Myanmar, Philippines, Thailand, and Vietnam. Nor is this a biggest or most important artists collection; instead, I've tried to recapture the pure visceral thrill of that first time I heard Joey Boy, choosing bangers that sound like nothing else, from nowhere else."

—Gary Sullivan

Emerging during the early stages of the recording industry in Japan, the ryūkōka style adopted western classical, blues & jazz elements into traditional and classical Japanese music.

This collection of 1920s & 30s ryūkōka recordings follows on from the Kouta Katsutaro tape we put out a couple of years back, and further captures the hauntingly unique sound of a cultural merging that was starting to reflect itself via popular song, ahead of the widespread influence of western pop music during post-war US occupation.

"Death Is Not The End are on a mission to expand the musical archive, with compilations of everything from Jamaican doo wop to pirate radio idents and adverts weaving new threads into the history of music. Longing For The Shadow: Ryūkōka Recordings, 1921-1939 goes back to the beginnings of the recording industry in Japan, and a style merging traditional Japanese forms with western pop and classical. Swooning orchestrations and prominent vocals capture some of the melodrama and bombast found in US and European music of the time, but beds of plucked and strummed instruments give an ordered elegance, tying it firmly to Hogaku tradition. Not much has been written about Ryūkōka, and a 2017 book by Hiromu Nagahara gives some clue as to why, arguing that although popular with the public, it was dismissed by critics both for its adoption of western sounds and its dwelling on Japanese traditional styles. Close to a century later, those are some of the qualities that make this compilation so fascinating." - The Quietus

After following Luke Blair's work for approaching two decades from his 2007 debut as Lukid on Actress' Werk Discs, we're humbled to present a new album on Death Is Not The End. Following relatively hot on the heels of 2023's Tilt (his first in 11 years, not counting his work with Jackson Bailey under the Rezzett guise) Underloop brings Blair's innate knack for building loops and sound structures further to the surface, while allowing his ear for emotional expression to be dialled up a notch. Those fortunate enough to be familiar with Lukid's work as a DJ will be aware of how distinct his ability is to seamlessly disappear into loop-based abstraction and back again seemingly without blinking, and often Underloop feels much like a collection of the sludgey interludes and foggy sketches that underpin his sets. Blending apparently ramshackle melodies and textures and pulling them together into an undeniable whole, Blair's tendency for pairing the simple and the indescribable with an understated vigour is fully on show here.

Written and produced by Luke Blair. Mastered by Giuseppe Ielasi.

Continuing his refraction of the rave continuum into pointedly dislocated, delicately bruising sound system meditations, Low End Activist returns to Peak Oil with a second instalment in his Airdrop series. This time around, he channels the ghosts of foundational tech-step and the quantum leaps of late-90s D&B to provide the inspirational fuel for his skeletal, astral constructions. A strong stylistic thread continues to weave through the LEA output from his earlier self-released EPs and Sneaker Social Club albums, where haunted atmospherics, blown out subs and snatches of breaks dart around each other in empty dancehalls, but the finer point of the sound design and synthesis makes very specific references to landmark moments in hardcore's evolution.

By weaving his own autobiography into the music, the Activist maintains a fundamental theme of his work to date. 'Colin's Golf', 'Smithy's Porsche,' 'Merv's Lazy Eye' and 'Brillo's Teeth' are all personal codes harking back to the formative Oxford rave scene. With the framework in place, he uses textures, timbres and studio tricks from scene-leading pioneers and local heroes of the era as ingredients in thoroughly modernist concoctions. None of the reference points are deployed as literal callbacks — they're waymarkers for the creative process and faint triggers bedded deep into Airdrop II's strange formations. Fleeting sonics might trigger latent memories for those who were there. For everyone else, Airdrop II is another step further along rave's eternally unspooling odyssey, guided by decades of precedents on a path into the future.

Comes with DL card & 2P insert / wrapped in shrink + a sticker

At long last, Takao is back with his long-awaited second album, seven years in the making. His 2018 "Stealth" was (and still is) a much-loved set, mixing elements of ambient and environmental music; with this new release Takao breaks free of the gravitational pull of these earlier influences and strides confidently forward. "The End of the Brim" jettisons some of the more abstract elements of his previous work, embracing a “universal listenability” and a more concrete intensity, with a focus on supple rhythms and strengthened senses of melodic development and harmonic sophistication. This musical growth can be linked with Takao’s admiration of composers Ken Muramatsu and Toshifumi Hinata, who are generally associated with commercial “production music” and easy listening. Another contributing factor is his private study with veteran keyboardist Ichiko Hashimoto of Colored Music. The ten tracks here include three vocal tracks, with three different singers (Yumea Horiike, Cristel Bere, Atsuo Fujimoto of Colored Music) and seven keyboard-led pieces. The vocal pieces are integral parts of the album’s flow, rather than typical “songs” driven by the name and personality of the singer. All of these factors, plus the veteran presence of engineer Hiroshi Haraguchi, known for his work with Haruomi Hosono, who mixed half of the album's tracks, along with the use of excellent old-school synths, aligned with Takao’s forward-looking vision, have combined to give us an album with a unique sense of timelessness. A spotlight illuminating future paths for pop music, available on CD/Vinyl LP/Digital, with English/Japanese lyrics, and liner notes by Yuji Shibasaki.