quête:fain

The album opener, “Fainted Fog,” reintroduces this fuller, panoramic version of Helios. Woozy synths give way to a propulsive drum pattern as the track’s characteristics populate in the haze. A piano plays between the beat, and another synth solos overtop, ascending towards the peak with an exhale of live kicks and looping guitar. For every bold moment on Espera, there are more muted, counter-balancing stretches; “Intertwine” offers one of the most meditative. Strums mingle with keys in the front half before the beat returns to deliver a hypnotic nod.

Kenniff sees each song as integral to the whole — “if you took one out, it would be like tearing a page from a book,” he says — but still functional independently, like a series of self-contained epics. “All The While” best represents this intention; a song in three equal parts constructed on a resonant drum sequence. Shimmering synth notes surface first, then pastoral guitar and piano flutters, converging at the end to evaporate into the ether.

There's something intangible about Celeste, the Soundcarriers’ second album, originally released in 2010. It has a light, lucid quality, almost like driving exhausted through a strange city at night. Freeflowing yet tethered, dreamy yet attacking, the band continue the fight to reconcile competing impulses. Various threads just about keep the shimmering tapestry from tearing. Haunting folk melodies underpinned by rhythmic static and the physicality of the totally analogue recording and mixing, baroque keyboard counterpoints and sweeping arrangements. The opener “Last Broadcast” seems to encapsulate this but it's almost as if the album gets the angst out of its system with this track and is free to explore the quieter, less crowded back streets. After the smoke of “Last Broadcast” has cleared, the twisting road takes in the soft introspection of “Hideaway” and “Morning Haze”, both tracks morphing into heavy psyche grooves or the eastern tinged psyche funk of “Signals” and “Rise And Fall”. Or takes another turn with the tightly arranged opening segment of “Long Highway”. Somehow it still manages to fit in ‘60s pop gems like “There Only Once”. An album to really lose yourself in, yet more concise than the sprawling Harmonium and more relaxed and freeflowing than the nervy rush of Entropicalia, Celeste could be arguably their most indispensable album and not to damn it with faint praise, their most listenable.

Original release date: May 5, 1980

An album made by Kim Chang-wan in place of his two younger brothers who were serving in the military, together with the project ‘Broken Spaceship’ composed of session musicians such as Park Dong-ryul (bass), Yu Ji-yeon (acoustic guitar, harmonica), and Kim Yeong-guk (drums). It is the same work as the beginning of Kim Chang-wan's 'Sanullim Alone', and the energetic rock sound and lyrical folk coexist in harmony.

Including Red Balloon with an attractive psychedelic fuzz tone guitar and Please Wait A Little Longer funky, as well as Long Lost Memories Will Come To My Mind Vaguely Through The Window, Still Life with Sunflowers, and A Teacup, Sanullim's best works of the mid-year period It contains beautiful songs that are faint, cozy, and beautiful.

Selected by Jim O’Rourke for his Tone Glow list of 25 albums that “never got their due”, Org was founded in the early 90’s by Espen Jensen and Kjetil D Brandsdal who would later go on to variously record as Elektrodiesel, Noxagt and Ultralyd in the swirl of the highly active Norwegian underground. “Org" was the only album the pair recorded as a duo, pressed in a meagre edition of just over 100 copies which disappeared almost as soon as they were made, lodged in the memory of the select few who have managed to hear it in the years since.

Made up of three long tracks, the near 20-minute ‘001’ opens the album with an extended organ zone-out matched with scraping factory machinery saturated into a dense cloud of harmonic fuzz. There's something transcendental about the sound that intersects with microtonal Alice Coltrane (particularly the unfairly maligned organ-only edition of "Turiya Sings"), as well as Pauline Oliveros and Ramleh. It’s music that pulls you in subconsciously; before you know it, you're fixating on the uncomfortable grind of metal on metal, buried mechanical rhythms and liturgical organ vamps that wind between industrial cacophony and sacred ritual music. For its last few seconds, we go into a full death metal tearout that fades out before it takes full flight, a glorious wtf.

‘002’ connects between minimalist drone styles and shoegaze, distorting fuzzed organ into pliable, dreamlike warbles that end up sounding like Kevin Shields' ‘Loveless’-era glides, or even Sunn O))) at their most devotional. Never losing the numbing overdriven mettle, its a piece that sounds spiritually entwined with Matthew Bower's Skullflower - a minimalist re-reading of high-contrast guitar music that takes all the psychoacoustic power and none of the annoying posturing.

For ‘003’, subaqueous organ is joined by synth and drum machine, sounding like the inspirational spark for Religious Knives' screwed 'n chopped cosmic psychedelia. The choice of sounds links it to Antena's foundational electro samba recordings too, but the overwhelming drone - a constant on all three compositions - connects the music to minimalist spirituals that have simmered beneath the DIY/avant garde for decades.

‘Org’ sits heavy on the nerves with overproof levels of mulched amp worship and ungodly, palms-down organ chords and wheezing, bezonked lines of melodic thought. 25 years out of sight and marinading in the archives, with the benefit of hindsight we can better understand the role these sounds played in the development of music in the contemporary sphere. It’s an important piece of the puzzle, one that makes valuable connections that, over time, have looked progressively more faint.

Tucked in the heart of Koreatown, Los Angeles, lies The Libra Hotel—the titular architecture of Nick Malkin's new album and site of his musical and psychogeographic exploration. Unlike most musical "site-specific" studies, Malkin remains wholly ambivalent to the documentarian approach, instead sharpening an auteur-like focus on the site as a conceptual and highly expressive backdrop. The Libra is musically explored as a space that houses a noir fragmentation of identity—the exhausted trope of a complicated protagonist walking through rain-soaked street corners and fumy neon lights—where an inner monologue is rendered in both miniature and at a cosmic scale. Casting aside stifling tropes around field recording, ambient, and improvised music, Malkin's work finds its own unique fidelity and emotional core through the assembly and reassembly of memory. Nearly every sound on the album—from frayed saxophones, lambent pianos, and dissected jazz drum kits—are multiplied, shattered, and reconstituted into shapes that adorn The Libra in a motion-blurred fog. The narrative of the Hotel suddenly appears as if out of the mist, with intersecting characters interacting within its walls by happenstance. Adminst the languid set pieces, wraith-like sonic grains gravitate around wide subbass beams that give structural form to The Libra, a narrative tension like when a scene is shot from hundreds of different perspectives: an image both luminous and veiled.

Much like Frank Sinatra's own spatial residency immortalized on "Live at The Sands," "At The Libra Hotel" showcases an exuberant view of entertainment, hospitality, and a form of masculinity, one that can quickly detourn into darkness. Knowing this, Malkin extracts a melancholic core out of The Libra locale. The flickering shadows of American decadence are shown in their ephemeral honesty, lines that trace how even in everyday life virtue is tested, sanity is tested, even reality is tested within the confines of desire, within the night. The album is draped in fleeting textures, carefully arranged with a trance-like microtonality, the faint inflections and articulations of a jazz band cascading into dissipated stillness. Voicemails about changed locations and covert eavesdropping on guests' whispered conversations provide an atmosphere of missed connection and voyeurism—a purloined letter of desire receding into a vanishing point. Like the music itself, The Hotel, a chapel perilous at the intersection of desolation row, the center of it all, yet simultaneously at the edge of town, becomes a structure between libidinous virtuality and actuality—our inevitable half-light.

Ultimately, the pensive atmosphere of "At The Libra Hotel," powerfully asserts a plea for the kinds of intimacy only possible in transient spaces. Here, memory cascades into a force that feels like something supernatural, perhaps even religious, yet always subject to the infidelity of our imagination. Here, the album opens into its primary psychodrama, the transient nature of subjectivity itself and how this becomes fractured in the tumult between our commitments and desires. Within this nocturnal space, to quote Louise Bourgeois, "you pile up associations the way you pile up bricks. Memory itself is a form of architecture."

The sounds of Cleveland seem to grow increasingly abstract with each passing release and a third Kalahari outing is no exception. Manipulating house and techno templates into newly mutated forms, ‘Lola Ran’ is a testament to a producer always playing fast and loose with concepts of genre. It’s possibly his most probing set of productions thus far.

Where predecessors came bearing remixes, it's strictly originals for the duration here.

‘Rand’ and ‘PrideBRK’ are direct but decidedly off-kilter; at once modern and faintly retro in their approach to breaks and deep-dwelling techno. ‘Lola Ran’, ‘Mano’ and ’Temp Oro’, on the other hand, shift gear into opiated, rhythmelodic territory. There are no doubt traces of Detroit-style sci-fi but the Brussels-based producer terraforms an alien microcosm unto itself.

In Times New Roman... is raw, at times brutal and not recommended for the faint of heart. And yet, it’s perhaps the most beautiful and definitely the most rewarding album in their epic discography. Founder Joshua Homme's most acerbic lyrics to date are buoyed by the instantly identifiable QOTSA sonic signature, expanded and embellished with new and unprecedented twists in virtually every song. With In Times New Roman… we see that sometimes one needs to look beneath scars and scabs to see beauty, and sometimes the scabs and scars are the beauty.

In Times New Roman... is raw, at times brutal and not recommended for the faint of heart. And yet, it’s perhaps the most beautiful and definitely the most rewarding album in their epic discography. Founder Joshua Homme's most acerbic lyrics to date are buoyed by the instantly identifiable QOTSA sonic signature, expanded and embellished with new and unprecedented twists in virtually every song. With In Times New Roman… we see that sometimes one needs to look beneath scars and scabs to see beauty, and sometimes the scabs and scars are the beauty.

In Times New Roman... is raw, at times brutal and not recommended for the faint of heart. And yet, it’s perhaps the most beautiful and definitely the most rewarding album in their epic discography. Founder Joshua Homme's most acerbic lyrics to date are buoyed by the instantly identifiable QOTSA sonic signature, expanded and embellished with new and unprecedented twists in virtually every song. With In Times New Roman… we see that sometimes one needs to look beneath scars and scabs to see beauty, and sometimes the scabs and scars are the beauty.

In Times New Roman... is raw, at times brutal and not recommended for the faint of heart. And yet, it’s perhaps the most beautiful and definitely the most rewarding album in their epic discography. Founder Joshua Homme's most acerbic lyrics to date are buoyed by the instantly identifiable QOTSA sonic signature, expanded and embellished with new and unprecedented twists in virtually every song. With In Times New Roman… we see that sometimes one needs to look beneath scars and scabs to see beauty, and sometimes the scabs and scars are the beauty.

In Times New Roman... is raw, at times brutal and not recommended for the faint of heart. And yet, it’s perhaps the most beautiful and definitely the most rewarding album in their epic discography. Founder Joshua Homme's most acerbic lyrics to date are buoyed by the instantly identifiable QOTSA sonic signature, expanded and embellished with new and unprecedented twists in virtually every song. With In Times New Roman… we see that sometimes one needs to look beneath scars and scabs to see beauty, and sometimes the scabs and scars are the beauty.

Kundan Lal is a highly understated artist. Little is known about his background, though some refer to him as Kunsaf Halil, his personal life remains largely a mystery.

Gathering a cult following amongst people like Den Sorte Skole or DJ Marcelle with his previous releases, he is now set to sail new shores. There is a sense of wanderlust as he opens his box of field recordings, collected on his many travels. From the buzzing streets of Alexandria, early sunday markets in Tafraoute or a crackling bonfire down by the banks of the river Ganges. Each track takes you places.

Kundan's second album is a captivating blend of dubby beats, collages, and exotic instrumentation. Drawing from classic tools like the Roland 808, SC7 and the famous Space Echo, Kundan has created a unique and minimalistic sound that is sure to captivate listeners. At once nostalgic and experimental, "Power of Ra" is a must-listen for both electronic music purists and fans of adventurous soundscapes.

Compelled to work from home on his computer during lockdown, Kundan dusted his pawnshop e-piano, downloaded some orchestral soundkits and started to digitize almost forgotten field recordings. The "Power of Ra“ came to him.

“Illgrimage” is a good example of his approach. Combining atmospheric soundscapes with swirling strings, trombones and pianos. Echoes of birds and children playing in the streets. A small town filled with life and a theremin leading the way while you hear the faint yet powerful words of Greta Thunberg saying: "Imagine...“

“Raqaqa,” a powerful orchestral journey with a hip-hop edge. Tinkling chimes add a groovy vibe, while lush layers of wind instruments weave a masterful soundscape. It’s the slow-burning intensity of this track that pulls you in.

"Nasi Chip" is a signature song that exemplifies Kundan Lal’s musical prowess. An engaging beat coupled with chopped up vocals, 8-bit synth melodies and an arpeggiated piano provide an energetic atmosphere that is both cunning and unique.

”Cen" lures you into the egyptian realm. A Harmonium slithers serpent like around a pounding beat.Horns gently swaying to the rhythm of the desert.

It is hard to put your finger on his style or genre. You can feel Kundan Lal‘s DIY spirit in his production, carving his own ethnic genre. For enthusiasts of Roberto Musci or Muslimgauze, this avant-garde album is one for your collection. Keep your senses open and let the Power of Ra pass you to another world.

Essential UK experimental composer Richard Skelton returns to Phantom Limb for new album selenodesy, interweaving his newfound love of electronics and synthesis with mastery of gritty organic texture.

Skelton’s music has always been rooted in landscape, in the loam and grit of the earth: from his 2009 Pennine Moors-inspired modern classic Landings to his more recent Moraine Sequence of geological excavations, his work has been bound inexorably with the stark and untended wilderness of northern landscapes. With this new album, however, Skelton shifts his gaze skyward — in part the result of a move in 2017 to the countryside near the Kielder Observatory, and to a so-called ‘dark sky’ region of the UK. In this remote landscape, light pollution is minimal, allowing the austere majesty of the night sky to be seen with greater clarity.

The resulting album, selenodesy, reveals a new, reverberant spaciousness to Skelton’s use of electronics. It marries the twin worlds of his previous Phantom Limb release - 2020’s These Charms May Be Sung Over A Wound, and its abandoned-factory threnody - with the landscape-revering arcana of his earlier work, which saw him bury instruments in the soil to return months later to recover and record with them, newly imbued with the land they occupied. selenodesy was prefigured by a period of insomnia and the relief found

in stargazing, during which Skelton tried to transcribe his hypnagogic visions: “much of this music came to me in the early hours, in that nowhere state between dreaming and waking. I’d look out the window and the night sky would be swirling with stars. Mars or Venus would be hovering in the corner of the room. I’d lie there and watch the Aurora Borealis dance across the ceiling.”

In selenodesy, we find the lingering, distorted sine waves of album opener “Albedo” that thrum and fizz with an icy, foreboding moonlight, rays of subtle movement that illuminate and darken alternately. Next follows lead single “The Plot of Lunar Phases”, whose passive shrieks echo about a cold, yawning space, reaching an ecstatic crescendo of hissing sonics and swirling celestial drone. Its dynamic range acts like the light of a lunar passage, from utmost darkness to radiant luminosity. Elsewhere, the pulsing, precessional bass of “Faint Ray Systems” gradually opens to reveal mournful, elegiac synthesis that reaches high into the night sky with an unearthly beauty. It is as if, during those long months of lockdown in the Scottish countryside, Skelton tapped into a series of sidereal electromagnetic transmissions, and transposed them into musical form.

For Anyone That Knows You, an album of mostly piano solos by Josiah Steinbrick, was recorded riot for smoothness or posterity but to emphasize the piano as object, the person playing it, and the moment it sounds. On three of the pieces, the saxophone of Sam Gendel hovers ok or the piano like a faint change in the light, adding resonance and gentle reinforcement rather than counterpoint. Three others are delicate renditions: "Green Glass" interprets an untitled recording by Quechuan folk musicians Leandro Apaza Roams and Benjamin Clara Quispe; *Tyne Road" abbreviates one of Malian kora master Toumani Diabatels most tender compositions: and "Lullaby" is an arrangement of a traditional Creole song, originally recorded in 1954 by the Haitian-American guitarist Frantz Casseus.

There's something intangible about Celeste, the Soundcarriers’ second album, originally released in 2010. It has a light, lucid quality, almost like driving exhausted through a strange city at night. Freeflowing yet tethered, dreamy yet attacking, the band continue the fight to reconcile competing impulses. Various threads just about keep the shimmering tapestry from tearing. Haunting folk melodies underpinned by rhythmic static and the physicality of the totally analogue recording and mixing, baroque keyboard counterpoints and sweeping arrangements. The opener “Last Broadcast” seems to encapsulate this but it's almost as if the album gets the angst out of its system with this track and is free to explore the quieter, less crowded back streets. After the smoke of “Last Broadcast” has cleared, the twisting road takes in the soft introspection of “Hideaway” and “Morning Haze”, both tracks morphing into heavy psyche grooves or the eastern tinged psyche funk of “Signals” and “Rise And Fall”. Or takes another turn with the tightly arranged opening segment of “Long Highway”. Somehow it still manages to fit in ‘60s pop gems like “There Only Once”. An album to really lose yourself in, yet more concise than the sprawling Harmonium and more relaxed and freeflowing than the nervy rush of Entropicalia, Celeste could be arguably their most indispensable album and not to damn it with faint praise, their most listenable.

Brazilian experimental multi-instrumentalist Carla Boregas follows plates for Bokeh Versions and Hive Mind with a ghostly set of deep listening electronics that plays like a symphony for an imagined woodwind orchestra.

Carla Boregas is best known from her tenure in São Paulo's genre-bending experimental post-punk scene, playing in long-running outfit Rakta as well as other related offshoots. Her solo material has been knottier to unpick, here developing ideas from a collection of unfinished fragments and notebook scribbles exploring the possibility of finding a wind instrument that could be played collectively by several musicians. Coinciding with the pandemic, however, she soon realised the inherent risks involved with sharing breath and so the concept took a different direction, with added resonance.

Boregas developed a synthetic alternative, layering vocals and environmental recordings to suggest wind instrumentation without attempting to mimic it. The sounds here are airy, but rarely diegetic - on the title track, Boregas uses analog arpeggios and plucked, sustained tones to approximate the kosmische world of Ash Ra Tempel or more recently Emeralds, as if trapped in a wind tunnel, moved forward by an unseen force.

There's a whisper of the ancient past that harmonises with Wojciech Rusin's speculative medieval gasps, and Bloedneus & de Snuitkever's severely underheard ‘Milli Mille’, an examination of the ancient Greek aulos. On ’Grafia Do Invisível' the sound is completely different again, but the concept remains, using precise analog drones and minuscule timbral shifts to imitate the character of a wind instrument and simultaneously harmonise with the deep listening meditations of Éliane Radigue and Kali Malone.

A voice enters the frame on 'Sopro’, chopped into deviated gulps and syllables, creating a language that's unfamiliar and percussive. The use of breath is subtle, and vocalisations criss-cross between synths and faint whistles, forming an expression that's different from its predecessors but intrinsically interlinked. This is where ‘Pena Ao Mar’ excels, by viewing breath and its application in electronic music from multiple angles simultaneously. Fans of Lucy Duncombe, Lucrecia Dalt, or Sarah Davachi - don't miss this one.

Dear Friends, it's 2023 and the future of Leftfield Bass, Trap, and Hybrid Grime is here... RATIONAL SOUL's debut EP, "SELF TITLED", is going to define a new era on the dance floor, reimagining 140 beats that typically are stereotyped into narrow catagories. "SELF TITLED" will become the worldwide definition of a style never heard before, sought after and inevitably copycatted by those inspired.

With no surprise, 2023 is set off to a paramount start for the German SATURATE! label, with an EP that “is the future of Leftfield Bass, Trap, and Hybrid Grime” and “it’s going to define a new era on the dance floor, reimagining 140 beats that typically are stereotyped into narrow categories.” The mastermind behind such a project, called SELF TITLED, is RATIONAL SOUL a Virginia-based, veteran electronic music producer. The EP is coming out in full on January 13, digitally and on vinyl, and it features six originals and four remixes. What sounds like a disorienting emptiness at the beginning, makes perfect sense when read as part of the overall narrative of the composition. “One moment you’re living happy-go-lucky, almost like it’s the script of a Disney movie, the next moment you’re questioning why you exist- how is it you’ve become a slave to the 9 to 5? Phone by your side as digital anti-anxiety medication, entertaining yourself with something nostalgic to remind yourself of better times…war against yourself, to reset your identity.” The fight against this subconscious condition was RATIONAL SOUL’s starting point while writing SELF TITLED. The artist’s attempt to light a lighter to ignite a spark in our consciousness and thus reveal the void in which we are immersed. “Wake up” he seems to want to tell us. Don’t be a pawn, be a player of your life. Let’s riot against this status quo and, quoting RATIONAL SOUL himself, “Let’s be gangsta and fuck shit up because we are mad at why our world is falling apart: twerk on a cop car with a fine cigar in your mouth type beat.” He then concludes by spilling one, big truth, “what better genre of music could describe these feelings than bass music?” How could we not agree?

2023 Repress

Greyscale is extremely proud to bring Martin Schulte to its long growing and talented roster.
Not only is this a double-single but each track is supported with a remix from a top-tier artist in Vril and our very own grad_u! Dancing Street & Skyscraper Street is special in many ways!
On 'Dancing Street', Martin gives your equilibrium a real test with its off-axis beat structure and fantastic chord definition. As the track releases the pressure nearing the end is nothing short of genius. This is not for the faint of heart! 'Skyscraper Street' is the ideal counterpoint to 'Dancing Street'. A perfectly tempoed tech masterpiece, it soars over a city soundscape riding a confident beat. For the B side, grad_u on the remix gives us a wall-shaker! A serious
main floor sound and the only relief from the intense bass is the beautiful chord work. The word epic comes to mind from our label leader! There is a handful of names that are buy on site when you see them and VRIL is no doubt one. This remix of 'Skyscraper Street' is drenched in layer upon layer of shimmering and fractured melodies. This experimental and almost dreamlike state of consciousness is auditory sensory overload of the highest order! Martin Schulte, VRIL and grad_u on the same EP!
Mastered at the legendary Dubplates & Mastering in Berlin on white 180 gram vinyl. The depth of these should not be understated!
Analogue photography by Rima Prusakova

If we want to look into the future, we have to start considering the implications more holistically. All too often, science fiction is a dystopian projection of the current era's grimmest realities spiked with pragmatic historical hindsight - but what if instead it was able to reflect our needs, hopes, and dreams? On "SPINE", award-winning Danish composer SØS Gunver Ryberg considers a sustainable alternative, buoyed by interconnectedness, empowerment, and understanding. Channeling her dextrous sound design into advanced, time-bending music that fluctuates through techno, experimental ambient, and soundsystem-vibrating bass music, she maps out an artistic landscape that's futuristic and complex, but never oppressive.

Ryberg is an accomplished producer who's developed her sound over many years, playing concerts and working tirelessly on video game soundtracks, film scores, dance, performance, and multichannel installation pieces. Her first solo album "Entangled" appeared in 2019 on Berlin's esteemed Avian imprint, and was praised for its sensitive approach to noise and abstracted techno, while its EP-length followup "WHYT 030" was nominated for the Nordic Council's prestigious music prize this year. "SPINE" is the inaugural release on Ryberg's own label Arterial, and stands as a thematically dense statement of intent. The label provides a platform to extend Ryberg's artistic goals and reflect not just her world but a world she wants to see develop in the future: somewhere connected and creative, where exploration and free expression is prioritized over genre division and petty compromise.

This philosophy is central to the sounds on "SPINE", which have been carefully sculpted to accurately lay out Ryberg's worldview. Opening track 'Unfolding' presents a sonic ecosystem that flourishes as it spreads itself out, and quivering kick drums vibrate alongside unstable atmospherics. There's the faint fingerprint of Chain Reaction's notional dub techno in there somewhere, but Ryberg interrupts the thought before it can coagulate, assuring the listener that her vision isn't ponderous but playful and optimistic. This mood flickers into view again on the title track 'Spine', as fragmented breaks rumble beneath disorienting synths, faint images of a life we once knew refracted into cosmic beams of light. 'Mirrored Madness' meanwhile is warm, assertive, and optimistic, contrasting skittering cybernetic percussion with dense, enveloping harmonies.

When she pushes rhythm into the background, like on the cinematic 'We tumble on the edges', Ryberg's compositional skill is placed under the microscope. We're presented with the opportunity to examine another dimension of her work, the mystery beneath the stone, hearing saturated, alluring pads infused with hidden harmonies. In these moments, Ryberg implores all of us to consider the environment, asking us to think about the earth's essential nutrients on the dreamy 'Phosphorus Cycle', and what we might do to save ourselves on the delirious 'Where do we go from here'. Ryberg's concern isn't chastising, it's laid out in a warm embrace. The future could still be bright - there's something beautiful in the complexity if you just take the time to look closely.

Thugwidow AKA Alex Lowther-Harris is a Jungle producer currently living in North Wales. Productions range from Hardcore rave tracks to more Ambient Tecky Jungle.

Thugwidow makes his Bukva debut with "An Otherwise Perfect Sky EP", these tracks and remixes represent the culmination of years of work, in honing his sound, working on production and grinding away. This record is a typical Thugwidow sound, the kind of tunes he loves making and listening to. With remixes from some of Thugwidows favourite artists Tim Reaper, Response & Pliskin. This record should be perfect for late nights, early mornings and perhaps the more chilled out moments when there's too much going on in your head.