Cerca:feeling inside

Introducing a super charged split LP featuring the talents of Cameron Stallones aka Sun Araw and Spencer Clark’s duo with Jan Andersen, Tarzana.
What originally started as an Aquapelago inspired residency in the summer of 2021 quickly developed into its own thing. Truth be told, both artists always surfed their own personal waves of musical freedom, so Aquapelagos Vol.2 album became AQUA X, a split offshoot work featuring rehashed Tarzana compositions on one side and a live presentation form Cameron’s residency in the island of Tenerife around Keroxen festival’s 13th Edition. With two artists very dear to us this split LP picks up perfectly on the aquapelagic concept and twists inside out into worlds high and below creating a further testament to both’s artists oeuvres. Here’s an extract of Professor Haywards original liner notes regarding the music:
‘’The tracks on this album reflect the geo-cultural position of Californian-based musicians, Cameron Stallones, (who records here under the Sun Araw moniker), and Spencer Clark and Jan Andersen’s (performing as Tarzana) with oceanic atmospheres and structures of feeling.
Sun Araw’s dedication to producing subtle, flowing, psychotropic compositions can be read as an attunement to the oceanic sublime. Recorded within the disused Keroxen tank in Santa Cruz harbour in Tenerife, The Canary Suite is an extended piece that features a mix of electronic pulses, short synthesizer fragments and distorted guitar bursts. The textures are relatively sparse throughout, with a linear emotional contour sustained by an ongoing melodic play within a defined band of possibilities before settling into a calmer, soothing and floating mood, like an aural floatation tank.
Tarzana’s tracks artfully blend simple synthesizer tones, vocal exhortations, and an assortment of treated instrument sounds to create a pulsing, wandering and restless music. Short rhythmic ostinato fragments push and pull against bold blown pipes and horns while subtle darker colours and shades intermittently move through the soundscape to intensify the mood. This is busy and dense music but with an orderly flow and internal sense of motion that sweeps up the listener in its wake, like a sailing ship propelled through tropical seas.’’

SEVENDUST is an American rock band from Atlanta, Georgia, formed in 1994 consisting of members Lajon Witherspoon (lead vocals), Clint Lowrey (lead guitarist), Vince Hornsby (bassist), Morgan Rose (drummer), and John Connolly (rhythm guitar). Since formation, SEVENDUST have attained success with three consecutive RIAA gold-certified albums, a Grammy nomination, and have sold millions of records worldwide. The group has released a total of thirteen studio albums, and this compilation features 7 incredible records from their catalog

Proper full-length outing from Naarm quartet and venerable live show Polito! Though prior associations with Butter Sessions have birthed EP's and compilation appearances, Collapse Phase gathers the most cohesive body of work from the group to date. Self-described as "a meeting of improvised contemporary dance and live improvised techno music, working together to create entrancing performance experiences", the project translates impressively to the long-player format. Holding no pretence with its title, opening cut 'Chuggalug' swirls around the stereo field building upon sustained synth warbles with low-key basslines and breaks propelling the track. As the album progresses from the chug into gridlocked, Mills-ian loops and fast, extra-terrestrial sound design (all swinging 909s + decay), we're also treated to contrasting downtempo acid cuts and dubwise, day-time festival vibes ('Fortune Teller'). 'Nine Lines' layers various patterns in a classy exercise of dancefloor tension building, with an undoubtedly in-the-moment feeling evidencing Polito's live show foundations. Across the board the group showcase their mastering of a kind of addition/subtraction push and pull, but the varying influences in sound design provide an extra layer of depth to the whole thing and cement the Polito brand. On both 'Inside The Sphere' and 'The Sphere Is Collapsing', the dreamier, more reflective edges of 90s IDM are given a nod and these two strike as up there with the best on the album. Head for 'Mercado Waltz' for a super interesting fusion of loopy techno and modular dubstep.

Polito is a collaboration between musicians Robert Downie and Finnian Langham, and dancers Arabella Frahn-Starkie and Hillary Goldsmith.

It’s been nearly eight years since the last Mondo Drag album came out. In that time, the Bay Area psych-prog band toured the US and Europe, performed at major festivals and—once again—reformed their rhythm section. But in the context of the band’s nearly two-decade existence, this period may have been the most fraught. Vocalist and keyboardist John Gamiño lost friends and family members. Meanwhile, humanity suffered the throes of a global pandemic. “It was a dark chapter,” he recalls. “I was going through a lot of stuff personally—there’s been a lot of death, loss of family members, and grief. Plus, the band was inactive. It felt like time was slipping away from me. I felt like I was wasting my opportunities. I felt like I wasn’t participating in my story as much as I could have.” This feeling of time slipping away is the prevailing theme on Mondo Drag’s new album, Through the Hourglass. “For me, Through the Hourglass really encompasses the quarantine/pandemic years,” Gamiño says. “But in a way that includes a couple of years before that for us, because the band was stagnant during that time. Living with that was really impactful on our daily lives. So, the album is reflective. It’s looking at time—past, present, future.” Luckily, Mondo Drag emerged from this dour period reborn. Freshly energized by bassist Conor Riley (formerly of San Diego psych squad Astra, currently of Birth), who joined in 2018, and drummer Jimmy Perez, who joined in 2022, Gamiño and guitarists Jake Sheley and Nolan Girard have triumphed over the seemingly inexorable pull of time’s passage. “Astra was the one contemporary band that we felt was on the same tip as us,” Gamiño says. “We saw the similarities and felt the same vibe. Conor moved to San Francisco in 2018 and heard we were looking for a bassist, so we got in touch. For us, it was like, ‘The synth player from Astra wants to play bass for us?’ We couldn’t think of anybody more perfect.” Perez, meanwhile, brings deep psych-prog knowledge and impeccable skill. “He’s an amazing drummer, and he allowed us to do what we’ve been trying to do,” Gamiño says. “Before he came along, it was like, ‘Where are the drummers who like psych and prog and can play dynamically?’ We ended up trying out metal drummers, but they couldn’t swing. Jimmy was the final piece of the puzzle.” The result is a dazzling and often plaintive rumination on the hours, days, and years—not to mention experiences—that comprise a lifetime. Two-part opener “Burning Daylight” smolders with melancholy, offering a whirl of multi-colored and hallucinatory imagery. “It’s about the California wildfires and a feeling of helplessness,” Gamiño explains. “There’s a juxtaposition between the dark lyricism and upbeat music which is meant to imply a sort of delusional state—and choosing our own delusion to overcome the crushing despair of reality.” Eleven-minute centerpiece “Passages” is a sprawling prog-rock adventure, festooned with lofty guitar melodies, sweeping organ flourishes and a delicately finger-picked outro. But the heaviest song, thematically speaking, might be the mournful and hypnotic “Death in Spring,” which borrows its title from the like-named Catalan novel. “In the novel, people are placed inside opened trees and their mouths filled with cement before they die to prevent their souls from escaping,” Gamiño explains. “The song is about three people I knew who lost their lives to gun violence, addiction, and mental health. It’s my way of cementing their souls in song form.” Mondo Drag fans might be surprised by this blend of hard reality with literary surrealism, but it’s a perfect example of how the last several years have impacted Mondo Drag—and Gamiño in particular. “On all of our previous albums, the lyrical content is more psychedelic and out there,” he acknowledges. “This is the most personal stuff I’ve ever done, so I’m definitely feeling vulnerable on this one.” The title Through the Hourglass comes from the opening of the long-running soap opera Days of Our Lives. It’s less inspired by a predilection for daytime TV than Gamiño’s connection with his late mother, who passed during the time since the last album. “I used to watch Days of Our Lives with her everyday growing up,” he explains. “The song is kind of a reinterpretation of the theme song, although it’s different enough that probably no one will catch it. Now that I’m getting older, I like to put these little Easter eggs in the songs for myself and for archival purposes—for memories.” Through the Hourglass was tracked at El Studio in San Francisco, with an additional ten days of recording at the band’s rehearsal space, which doubles as a hybrid analog-digital recording studio. The album was engineered and mixed by Phil Becker, drummer of space-punk mainstays Pins Of Light. “We’re still here,” Gamiño says. “We’ve been in the studio working on our craft and honing our skills. Now we’re re-emerging for the next stage of our life cycle.”

A long-in-the-works project of ours, here comes A Tribe Called Kotori's first foray into full-length territories, as the immensely talented Rampue takes us on a melancholy-riddled ride across his phantasmatic mindscapes. A true sound explorer, deftly steering his ship down the junction of electronica, abstract and balearic-infused prog house, the Berlin-based vibist has us transfixed and elevated throughout the twelve cuts that form the backbone to this lushly textured promenade in sound - at times understatedly euphoric, at others rivetingly exotic.

Of the creative process that lead to 'Bubblebath Trance', Rampue explains "It all started and ended in the same moment: my cherished feline companion, my laptop awash with an unintended bath, and alas, a dearth of backups. The resultant calamity, an echo of chaotic tranquility." Under the generous layer of irony lies some unaltered truth about Rampue's debut long-player for A Tribe Called Kotori: this sense of serenity that goes with stepping into this warm and bubbling primitive chaos of sorts infuses the listening experience far and wide. Distantly emulating the "euphonious strains" of iconic PS1 video games soundtracks from his youth days, the album has us surfing a constant paradox of emotions, wistful but not abandoning itself to sorrow, dynamic yet suspended in some sort of mind-expanding stasis. As if you were looking at the world beneath you in exploded view, conscious of all thing, slowly moving up the many layers of our atmosphere towards uncharted skies.

A paragon of Rampue's most poignant take on classic electronica tropes, 'Harmonie' blazes with a poetic fire that engulfs about everything in its wake. Just figure yourself riding a chocobo across the sand-covered expanse of North Corel (toasting to the FFVII nerds here) as this blasts out in the distance. From this trancey bubblebath emerge lots of musical shades and nuances, from the nicely dubbed-out, brass-heavy coastal jazz of 'Schattenschranz' to the choppy, trip-hop-adjacent future electronics of 'Inside', via the exuberantly joyous mess of faux-organic number 'Tripomatic' and cinematic charisma of 'Ich hasse Sonne' high-flying orchestrations.

Connecting the dots between that trance-indebted ebullience and further downtempo-friendly attraction, 'Verfahren' perhaps encompasses best what 'Bubblebath Trance' is about: gracefully walking the tightrope in-limbo nostalgia-soaked inner movements and a powerful outward thrust, burning to let the feelings ooze out from the shell that holds them.Clad in purely 90s-compatible breaksy motion, 'Salz' is another attempt to reconcile emotional and physical dissonance, like kneading all states - solid, liquid and vaporous - into an impossible mega-vibe of its own; malleable, strong and enveloping in equal measure. Borrowing from two-step and UK garage, 'Take Away' is a definite high in Rampue's master unfolding of musical twists and turns, summoning a Boarder Community-esque atmosphere and clashing it alongside floor-ready footwork motifs to fascinating effect.

An ode to his studio companion, 'Buchla Trip' finds Rampue's exploring his machinic friend's quirky yet soulful array of electronic potentialities - making it sound like a conversation you'd have with R2-D2 in the heart of a Sandcrawler, whereas 'Kajal' beams us up to a fragmented headspace, halfway altered PC-Pop and arps-loaded electronica on amphetamines. Effusive and transporting, the title-track 'Bubblebath Trance' could well figure as the album's no.1 medley in essence: a bountiful lucid dream of dancing forms, colours and sentiments to wrap your head around, confidently drifting from a liminal state of consciousness down the rapids of one's troubled inner workings.

Rounding off the package, the languid ambient finale of 'Die Leiden des hungrigen Fruehstuecks' rubber-stamps the feeling that 'Bubblebath Trance' belongs to that rare category of albums. The ones that mint their own alphabet aside from typical norms and expectations, teaching you the ropes of their new language as it unreels between your ears - real and unreal, elusive to any other meaning than the one your guts and brains will be inclined to give it to, in real time. A crystal-pure object if you will, that shall not reveal its secrets, even after a thousand listens and just as many wowing moments.

Clearlight returns, two years on from his DNO debut alongside regular collaborator Owl, with five otherworldly solo excursions.

What’s most striking about the Belgian’s work is the way he brings digital textures to life. Like an alien biosphere that doesn't abide by our own natural laws, his soundscapes are irregular and uncanny, but in a way that makes them feel all the more real.

Tracks like ‘Super Strong’ and ‘Heavy Feet’ sway and wobble to cumbersome beats, lumbering through swamps of croaking, chirping, fizzing things. The former eventually collapses into total abstraction, while the latter endures blasts of technoid bass, like the retrorockets of some hulking spacecraft coming in to land.

‘Spinning Head’ is powered by a buzzing oscillator that rolls back and forth across the stereo field. Paired with assorted clattering, clanking percussive debris, it’s an unnerving yet oddly pleasant experience, as if someone were rummaging around between your ears to help find a part that’s come loose.

Lead track ‘Water Willy’ is stranger still. Shifting from something akin to an exotica record played at the wrong speed to a melancholy whalesong lullaby, its twangs, chimes and plodding bass pulse create an eerie but beautiful ambience reminiscent of the deep ocean.

Only bonus track ‘Salt Cube’ is willing to break the spell, upping the pace to deliver the EP’s most traditionally dancefloor-friendly cut in the form of glitchy minimal d&b, with a heavyweight halftime switch post-breakdown.

Taking sounds from the club, but clearly not feeling forced to cater for it, Clearlight grows alternate realities that feel familiar, but offer wondrous, illuminating new experiences. Step inside and join him.

Rhythms of postmodern realism at the very bottom of the DNO.

With I Will Make a Baby in this Damn Economy, Fat Tony embodies the kind of quixotic figure he would rap about; a singular entity who’s motivated, confident, and hungry; a perpetual-motion-machine locked in a staring contest with his country. It’s the latest album in his catalog produced entirely by L.A-based producer Taydex since 2020’s Wake Up. Later that same year Fat Tony released Exotica, and ever since he’s demonstrated he is in his own lane as a professional rapper with the mind of a magician, as quick to conjure an image as pull it out from under you, deftly manoeuvring through so many details and references a listener feels as if they have witnessed the work of an illusionist. He paints these canvases inside of songs that rarely spill past three minutes; they’re pocket-sized diaries replete with acute observations, character studies, microdoses of storytelling, and single-minded ruminations on a topic that bud, blossom, and fade before too long. Fat Tony & Taydex’s I Will Make a Baby in this Damn Economy cements Tony’s status as someone whose albums are not so much lyrically-lyrical as they are picaresque.
As with any Fat Tony project, the bars are tight as ever, but are so fluid for the 34-year-old it’s almost easy to take for granted the details, warmth, and humanity inside his free-associative tales of day-one friends who’ve passed, edgelord grifters who want to spit game, and nights on ketamine. Taydex’s production sprints through disparate yet simpatico styles, dipping its toes into Pi’erre Bourne-esque bass (see lead single “Spectacular”), house (“Loosen Up”), and even hyperpop. Meditations on loss and grief are woven throughout, but Tony throws a few curveballs as well: Consider “Alexis,” which sweetly reflects on a long-term platonic friendship. Taydex finds a Teddy Riley-indebted New Jack Swing groove just deep enough for the feeling to land and underlines the song’s sincere candor. This is the appeal of Fat Tony writ-large: his boisterous voice and genial personality invite you to the party, then you stick around to hear what he’s saying, which is frequently more introspective and complex than one assumes.
Written and recorded in Taydex’s new studio in North Hollywood, Tony says, “We had much more freedom and flexibility in making this album and you can hear it. It felt like a family project.” If the album is comfortable and loose, it is also dense and substantial. The album’s final two tracks contextualize the immediacy of what came before it—the mezcal with ices drank, Paul Wall swangin’ through to drop knowledge, the Polaris Prize-winning rapper Cadence Weapon providing a vibe check. “Make a Baby” accounts for Tony who’s seen everything, and knows he’s met the one to be a father with, and yet chooses to take his time to get it done. Taydex’s beat recalls turn-of-the-century R&B and the millennial promise of an endless good time. Sombre closer “Jasper, TX” is Tony coming to grips with the story of James Byrd, Jr., a Black man from East Texas dragged to his death by three white supremacists in 1998. These songs are not only trademarks of Tony’s fastidious rapping—they are deeply personal examples of his approach to artistry and life itself, where every decision is made in the shadow of history.
It’s here the mission statement of I Will Make a Baby in this Damn Economy comes into focus—you get the sense he means it, he’s ready for it, he’ll fight for it. He’s waiting to take the world at its word.

Alabama native Drayton Farley has as honest a voice as you're likely to hear in this burgeoning scene of country, folk, roots, and Americana music we're all wrapped up in. With songs and lyrics pulled from real life experience, there's a grounded feeling to his stories, a confessional quality that rings true to those who know. His voice fills the room like cigarette smoke, curling into every corner of you, with a fine grit rasp that smooths out every rough edge. It lingers hours, days, after you've left the bar - turns of phrase that tumble around your mind, bittersweet and familiar. He sings as deeply about the love he holds as the love he's lost and there's something so broken-in and comfortable about that Southern inflection that every song feels like coming home. Sharing stages with musicians on the rise such as Zach Bryan, Arlo McKinley and Mike and the Moonpies, Drayton has quickly gained a loyal fan base. Twenty on High, Drayton's first release with Thirty Tigers, was produced by Sadler Vaden (Morgan Wade) and recorded with Chad Gamble, Jimbo Hart, Sadler Vaden, Peter Levin, Kristin Weber and Katie Crutchfield at Nashville's Sound Emporium Studios. “Lyrics that are immediately reminiscent of the humor and subtlety of John Prine, the directness and honesty of Bob Dylan, and the everyman gravity of Pete Seeger, Farley firmly establishes himself as one of the great American voices in folk and Americana music.” - Americana Highways

Richie Culver had been waiting his whole life to record I was born by the sea. His debut album immediately and messily inscribed the artist into the canon of outsider music and experimental electronics, serving both as an arresting statement of intent and a painful reckoning with the difficult path that lead up to it, stealing one last glance back at a place he always knew he had to escape. Between grim lamentations, faded memories and anxiety attacks, all told with searing honesty and disarming openness, I was born by the sea excavates a space for hope, finding Culver digging through Humberside silt to find a world weary optimism, the raw material from which his visual and sound art is shaped. For this collection of expansions and inversions, Culver invites a collection of kindred spirits, contemporary inspirations and old heroes to wade into the salt water of his formative years spent living for impromptu raves and afterparties, connecting vivid memories of his birth place of Withernsea to artists hailing from as nearby as Preston and Bridlington, further afield, from Manchester and London, Berlin and Paris, before returning back to Hull, to where it all began.

For some, responding to I was born by the sea means diving even deeper into the record’s furthest reaches. Space Afrika clear away the pummelling loops of noise from ‘It’s hard to get to know you,’ revealing a cool and cavernous expanse in its wake. Distant chatter, previously heard as though through thin, plasterboard walls, now echoes from outside the maddening claustrophobia of the original’s Sisyphean sonics, illuminated as a dense storm cloud suspended amidst a more open scene, washed clean by a lighter rain, allowing the tender heart of the track to beat clear. London producer MOBBS stretches out ‘Pigeon Flesh’ into an epic, 10-minute, cold-sweat spiral, strung-out tension wrung from disconnected phone tones twisted in unexpected directions, snatches of Culver’s voice turned inside-out and deep fried bass threatening to tip the track over into oblivion, the build-and-release of a nervous breakdown experienced in real time. In an act of subversive self-reflection, Morgane Polanski switches one kind of ennui for another in her adaption of ‘I was born by the sea,’ swapping the sea for the city, English seaside towns in January for summer evenings in Paris and flashing lighthouses and sparkling oil rigs for the Eiffel Tower and the traffic around L’Arc de Triomphe. Even Culver finds time to revisit ‘Dream About Yourself,’ a track taken from his EP Post Traumatic Fantasy, breathing new words into its glacial drift, the half-remembered testimony of a shut-in: Woke up in the evening / Pray for me / Don’t trust anyone / Pray for algorithm. Reframed in a more melancholy light, the track’s reverberant keys even more clearly evoke a mournful nostalgia, fresh pain felt in old wounds.

Others find a parallel universe in Culver’s visceral world building. Rainy Miller flips the script with a scorched, avant-drill rework of ‘Daytime TV’, threading puncturing hi-hats and queasy low-end surge through the track’s steady ambient cascade, invoking the irresistible Preston beat magic of Miller’s own essential debut album, Desquamation. Aho Ssan melts away the crystalline textures of ‘Love Like an Abscess’ with the ominous crackle of a nascent fire, building through swathes of organic Max/MSP squelch and brittle, nails-down-chalkboard scrape, swelling and metastasising the original to spill over Culver’s desperate hymn to corporeal desire, at once flesh and not. Teresa Winter transports us an hour up the coast from Withernsea to her native Bridlington, replacing the sea wall of synthesis on ‘Nervous Energy’ with muffled ASMR murk and fever dream whispers, transforming Culver’s unflinching observations into a haunting call-and-response, filling in the blanks with her own eerie utterances, a fleeting conversation with a ghost. In a touching victory lap, Fila Brazillia, eccentric stalwarts of beloved ‘90s trip hop imprint Pork Recordings, whose performances at Hull institution The Lamp convinced a young Culver of the necessity to make his mark on club culture, resurface for their first remix in 20 years. Steve Cobby and David McSherry lead a low-slung, heartfelt stroll back through a suite of tracks from I was born by the sea, tracing a full circle saunter from Culver’s origins to his current musical practice, the sounds of his present repurposed by the sound of his youth. In a gesture that reflects the emotional complexity of the project, Fila Brazillia find joy at the end of Culver’s troubled reflection, picking out an undeniable groove in the stasis of feeling trapped in your hometown. Underlining Hull’s vital musical legacy, from Baby Mammoth to Throbbing Gristle, Cobby and McSherry demonstrate that, though there are certainly storms, by the sea there is also sun and through the fog, if you listen, you can hear a singular sound, a sound now carried by Richie Culver.

Participant is a record label and creative studio run by William Markarian-Martin and Richie Culver

Repress!

Montreal’s eclectic producer CFCF (aka Mike Silver) follows 2019’s effusive corporate jungle opus Liquid Colours with a kaleidoscopic capital-E Electronica album that takes a range of styles from his earliest formative listening years (1997-2000) and throws them in a blender. Elements of jungle, house, UK garage, trance, pop and post-grunge are blended to form a glossy picture of restless youth in an
identity crisis: memoryland.

Inspired as much by Sonic Youth and Smashing Pumpkins as the Chemical Brothers and Basement Jaxx; as much by films like Millennium Mambo, Demonlover, Morvern Callar, Safe and Perfect Blue as late 90’s Prada — CFCF jumps across genres as a means of portraying a breadth of overlapping milieus and identities in this hyperactive Y2K period-piece that both explores and criticizes our own nostalgic impulses. From the opening intro’s announcement of arrival to the final credits, it’s an album as film as RPG, with the listener as its protagonist.

Opener “welcome.WAV” functions as a start-up sound file for the journey ahead: from “Life is Perfecto”, a propulsive breakbeat-dreampop hybrid, to a grotesquely-remixed ultra-French-house version of previously released single “Self Service”, and the recursive, metaphysical garage of “After the After”. Two guest vocalists lend their talents: Montreal neo-shoegaze icons No Joy, fresh off their own genre-defying Y2K exploration Motherhood, laconically lists off advice for aspiring fashion ingenues with bite in the alt-rock-IDM “Model Castings”, while Kero Kero Bonito’s Sarah Bonito sweetly delivers the penultimate “Heaven”, grunge-pop paean to the myth of Icarus.

In CFCF’s words:
“I was feeling fatigued by an overabundance of ‘calming’, productivity-oriented music, and wanted to explore something angsty, messy, and dark, while also applying a pop sheen. I see a loose narrative across the album: your early 20’s, a new city, new people, new temptations and new traps. Losing your sense of self to the whims of your surroundings and trends in music and fashion; the wrong people, and trying to dig yourself out of that hole. There’s a hope of moving forward that glimmers in the last quarter of the album, but it’s out of reach and seems to come at a price. And then the looking back on it later with perspective; or the looking forward to it before with anticipation. As a kid I couldn’t wait to be in my 20’s; in my 30’s it’s bittersweet to look back. That’s the core of memoryland: the gulf between the fantasy, the reality, and the memory, and how we live inside each of those at different points.”

A tale of two Indians recorded in Cologne, Stockholm & Berlin.
Anurag Choudhary & Pawas Gupta are Non Solo.
Friends from more than two decades, these gentlemen decided to bring together their knowledge of music at Anurag's apartment in Stockholm back in 2008. Anurag’s life journey took him to Stockholm,
Sweden and Pawas’ culminated in Berlin, Germany; both cities a cultural and a musical powerhouse in their own right. Anurag, a professionally trained Flautist (bamboo Flute or “Bansuri”) in the traditional Hindustani Classical Music and Pawas, someone who has been exploring the realms of electronic music since 1997 as a DJ and releasing records under different monikers since 2007 decided to bring in their forces on a gloomy Stockholm afternoon.

You may ask, why Non Solo? Well, for obvious reasons!
In traditional Indian classical music you are trained as a soloist, mastering a single instrument and each instrumentalist has a deep understanding of the common syntax and rules of engagement that produce some brilliant duets. Both Anurag and Pawas have been pursuing their solo music careers and mastering their craft. However, ‘Non solo’ brought these two (soloists) together to collaborate on something that has not been done before in this way so two soloists coming together and forming NON SOLO.
It all started over a “Fika” which translates to “ a concept, a state of mind, an attitude and an important part of Swedish culture. Many Swedes consider that it is almost essential to make time for fika every day.
It means making time for friends and colleagues to share a cup of coffee (or tea) and a little something to eat” in Anurag’s favourite Cafe, not to forget his exquisite palette for Coffee. After a short brainstorming on how to create something new and fresh without it being too cliched and with the help of impeccably roasted coffee beans that were freshly brewed, the men decided to jam it out to see where this goes.

The first attempt resulted in the second track on the record “Svar” which means “note or tone” which was a one take track. Motivated and excited, they both decided to continue working on this project.
A few months later Anurag visited Pawas' previous Studio in Cologne to record, where Sarang, Tandav and Bhoop were born. Even though the creation had happened, they felt it wasn't the right time to put
it out there just yet. However, time flew by and after almost 14 years of waiting, the men came back to what they had created and decided it was now the time to release it.
The title track “Sarang” is inspired by raga Brindavani Sarang, where Anurag infuses the romantic and mystical flavour of this raga with his flute and Pawas brings his deep repertoire of electronic grooves and
atmospheric sounds to create an intelligent track that touches the listeners.
Svara is inspired by raga Hansadhwani (translated ‘svan song’ or ‘sound of swan’) is an endearing melange of Indian classical and house music.
Tandav is a high energy track based on a variation of Sarang raga. With Pawas’ in-depth knowledge of both Indian classical percussion and electronic music….. This track combines multiple rhythmic layers
manifesting in one exhilarating track that is filled with polyrhythmic cadence and interludes.
Bhoop is melancholy and nostalgia infused into one melodious offering inspired by raga Boopali laid over a bed of organic drums and bass.

The Feel:
Svara is falling in love, the feeling you get when you are walking after that first wonderful date, smile on your face and so much anticipation and joy in the heart for all that excitement that is about to come.
Sarang is being in love, when you start to experience all those emotions you didn’t know even existed inside your heart. It is a complete journey.
Bhoop has a tinge of melancholy, longing and missing each other , while Taandav is coming back together after a long time away from each other. Re-discovering each other and re-experiencing all those
emotions at an even deeper level and celebrating the togetherness, be it in friendship or relationship.
Non solo is first in its kind to bring the melodious/musical depth inspired by the raga traditions to the exhilarating rhythmic world of deep house and electronica.
Available now in your favourite digital store and on limited edition Vinyl with an exquisite typographic artwork by Shantanu Suman in collaboration with Masala Movement's Manoj Kurian!

The Other Maria represents the character trait each of us has inside within ourselves. The silent part of us that we try to regulate, keep restrained from others and managed just beyond reach from the rest of the World. It represents the compartmentalized potential to do, say and respond with great chaotic harm, despite all unfortunate consequences. It is a full release feeling that we sometimes quietly envy as we witness with disgust and disapproval.

Widely considered a character flaw to many, yet, some would relish in the opportunity that could summon such an unpredictable internal animal. Every life has two parallel parts. The one for "them", the version of yourself that abides by all the acceptable and expected rules of engagement - often a side that is given credit on face value. The side that achieves progress through peaceful and less confrontational means. The one you use to survive.

And the other side, the one for you. An uncompromising, unthinkably ruthless version that knows no limit. That knows no fear. The side of yourself that tells you yes, when you know that "no" is the better answer.

The Other Maria isn't about comfort. It is about hard truth, but also recognizing raw emotions that stem from feeling undeniably free.

And what could one do with such a dark, yet wonderworking ability - when the absence of fear and consequence presides over the judicious process leading to an enviable fate - convinced that all actions are pure, justified, direct, but conniving. The feeling of relieved of all guilt and accountability?


But as diabolical as it can be and appear. Along with the negative static, there can be progress. As true imposes are exposed, so does the transparency of reality. A precious truth that's needed to fully understand the severity of the situation.
And with this, comes a valuable knowledge from a low level in which one once descended. Dreadfulness is softened to predictability.

- Jeff Mills, April, 2023

The Inter-Atlantic duo of George Btp Dan Piu & Roger K. Versey return to your shores to traverse more mystery, adventure, and musical journey with an all new double 12" album.

Passport - Wonderful Elixir. Named for its nutritious flavor and mixture, Wonderful Elixir is crafted for the deep frequency connoisseurs, explorers not constrained to genres, not afraid to vibe with the tides of life, but rather seek the deeper feeling that is true and Indigo Blue. The main ingredients are 10 visions that await inside the fine grooves of two 180 gram disks crafted to capture the moments in the best way; a seamless connection of Air, Land and Seaways that harbor elements of Jazz, Acid, Deep House and Street Beat. From the organic forests to the concrete jungles, From Zurich to St.Louis, your Wonderful Elixir is here. Featuring very special appearances from DJ Nata, Jesus Gonsev, and Grant.

Presented on 2×12" vinyl by the legendary No Acting Vibes label, and on CD and Digital by Deep Inspiration Show. Includes original acrylic paintings by Zara Versey.

Vladislav Delay presents the third EP in his "Hide Behind The Silence" series with five 10" releases coming throughout 2023. Intuitive and raw music, momentary and reflective, released on Ripatti's own label "Rajaton".

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Stillness is a myth. Consider concepts such as ”still water”, or ”still air” for that matter. Go to a restaurant, ask them for a glass of still water, hold it against the light and see where we’re at. Even though the water itself has been captured and imprisoned in the glass, it never stops breathing. It’s filled with tiny particles, dancing. Everything can be explained on a molecular level, but since we’re not scientists – and even if you happen to be – it’s the natural world of perception that moves me.
Still air is very similar. A hot summer’s day with zero wind feels completely still. It’s the closest I have felt to complete stillness. Or for a more urban adaptation, imagine the same vibe inside a normal apartment. In those moments, revelations and mind- blowing experiences can be had with experiments in stillness.
Try this: Just sit down for a minute on a sunny day, making sure there’s enough natural light. Do absolutely nothing. Try not to breathe for a bit. (If you need a mental anchor, you can play Cage’s 4’33” in your head but nothing else.) Watch the tiny dots of dust dancing :..’ ̈.:; ́ ́*°.,’:,. ̈ ̈ ̈ ̈:,.’
The movement is crazy, but the feeling of stillness comes from witnessing how subtle it is. In (perceived) complete stillness, every act of microscopic mobility seems to speak volumes. Yet, it feels both reassuring and oddly threatening that the stillness is never complete. What if we would need absolute stillness? Or is it just enough that we can perceive something as such? Extremes attract, so for both water and air, extraordinary movement is equally fascinating. That is also a luxury item of sorts. For us to enjoy a very ”loud” body of water or air, we need to be safe, in enough control of the situation. So when you are, it’s worthwhile to pay attention and take it all in.
A rapid flowing free with extreme strength and just barely in control. Look at that water go! No still water on this one, only ”sparkling”. A windy day when birds seem surprised how hard it is to fly, but in the end they make it. Trees bend but don’t break. The wind shows you its movement but doesn’t hurt you. It feels friendly, like a big clumsy dog that doesn’t quite understand its size.
It’s beautiful to be a guest of the elements, but not at the mercy of them. A new kind of dialogue forms.

Hania Rani announces "On Giacometti" a tender meditation on the life and art of Alberto Giacometti and family. "On Giacometti" is a collection of beautiful recordings inspired by the renowned artist and family and features some of Rani's most profoundly delicate compositions to date. Invited by film director Susanna Fanzun, to score her forthcoming documentary on the legendary artist Alberto Giacometti, Hania Rani took herself to the Swiss mountains to compose in blissful isolation. As Rani explains eloquently below the compositions are based on improvised melodies, simple harmonies and structures and inspired by the silence of the mountains as Rani returns to her main instrument, the piano. The results are beguilingly reminiscent of her beloved debut album Esja, but with subtle extra layers of synthesiser, and on two tracks cello from friend and long-running collaborator Dobrawa Czocher.

'On Giacometti' is presented as a limited edition LP with bespoke packaging featuring Les Naturals - Chocolat (Gmund) sustainable recycled paperboard made from 100 % recovered paper with Foil Artwork by Łukasz Pałczyński. Plus Double sided printed insert and download code inside.

Hania Rani "On Giacometti":
‘When I was asked to compose a soundtrack for a movie about the family of Giacometti I didn't think twice.

Alberto Giacometti, a Swiss artist, who worked mainly as painter and sculptor has been one of my favourite artists for a long time. His individual style, aesthetics and the character of his creative process is still fascinating to me on many levels, so being able to dive even deeper into his universe, getting to know not only him but also his family was an opportunity that I couldn't miss. Little did I know how far this "yes" will take me - not only mentally and on a creative level but also physically. Thanks to the director of the documentary - Susanna Fanzun and by a stroke of luck and a couple of extra questions I decided to move for a couple of months to the Swiss mountains, not far away from the place where Giacometti was born and where the place he called home was, although he didn't live there. Susanna showed me a place close to her hometown where I could rent a studio and work on the soundtrack but also for my other projects. It was the middle of a winter, the area was full of ice and snow, just like only it can happen still in the mountains. The residency house was located in a valley surrounded by high mountains and the sun in the winter season was not coming up for too long during the day. I remember she told me about it and added "that not everyone is feeling well there, but I hope you will". I did.

Being almost separated from reality, the city and its entertainments, people rushing and everything that usually takes my attention I could fully concentrate on the music and soundtrack, spending most of the day with my own thoughts and having enough space to experiment and be free in a creative process. This soundtrack would probably be a very different thing if composed in a place that I am usually living in. I took this a chance to explore something new about myself as a composer and human being, taking the opposite direction that I would usually choose for myself.

The album "On Giacometti" includes the excerpts from the soundtrack, the most representative tracks and those which became a strong voice itself. Based a lot on improvised melodies, simple harmonies, structures and silence it reminds me of my debut album "Esja" which was partly composed and recorded in another chilly place - Iceland. All these components, both mental and physical, guided me back to my main instrument - piano, which I tried to redefine again with a language of the space that I was working in. The space is usually the key element that gives me the answer about the arrangement or character of the project. Space seems to be the first to appear and music is the invisible power which is changing its angels.’ Living surrounded by mountains makes you change the perspective and understanding of scale as Alberto Giacometti once famously wrote in a letter: It gives an impression that things that are actually far away, like mountains, are close and the other ones that are not so far away, like people, seem small, watched from a distance. You feel like touching the mountain top with your finger could be as easy as touching the tip of your nose. The snow additionally protects the whole area from the noise, each sound lands softly on the ground accompanied by echoes of immeasurable space. Each scratch or whisper is becoming an autonomic entity, opening the gate to the world of ghosts and lost spirits. It's easy to think that time stands still there, while nothing is moving and changing at the first sight. But the ubiquitous ice and snow reveal the passage of time, transforming frozen paysage into the wild stream of water - each day, hour and second. Melting and vanishing, clearing the space from white powder and noise consuming surface. Invisible process for a one night traveller, becomes painfully real for longer time settlers. Time flows with each new wave of sound coming through the river, reminding us that we are part of the cycle, which endlessly repeats itself.

All of us carry a piece of where we’re from with us, but these parcels of fallow land often in a uniquely mysterious way become the prey that nourishes our aspirations. Agnès Gayraud a refined thinker by day that transforms into la Féline at night left Tarbes many years ago in search of greener pastures. After making a name for herself with Adieu l’Enfance (2014), Triomphe (2017), and Vie Future (2019), the author and musician has evolved once again. Her latest release Tarbes reinvents the circle of life and challenges our preconceived notions. She welcomes us to her hometown with sweet and clear melodies over the backdrop of an electronic hum, reminiscent of Mark Twain classic Tom Sawyer. Tarbes is no more than a listen away. Physically prevented from returning to her hometown by the viral threat we all know all too well, Agnès found her way back with a small Electone home organ. The constraints of off-peak hours that called for some DIY savvy, slowly but surely, roused her spirit. With a drum machine, a bass and a guitar, she succeeded in making the young girl inside her smile again. With 13 songs and just as many adventures Tarbes is a concept album that tells the story of a young woman’s formative years, as spent in her hometown. The returning hymn doesn’t only imprint nostalgia, it paints the full emotional portrait of a town. Because for Agnès, Tarbes is not just her theater, but her whole world, showing how fiercely protective she is of her hometown in the song Solazur. Under a magnifying glass of emotion, and with the sentimental testimony that is La Panthère des Pyrénées, the artiste shows us the skeletons in our own closets. Tarbes, more than a brief stopover in a rail journey to the coast, broaches issues that touch on abandonment, desertification, aging and redevelopment that many French towns and cities face today. Alexandre Guirkinger’s photographs serve as album art that illustrates this strangely unique singularity. While fine-tuning this collection of stories, in an oh-so-intimate album where solitude rips away the mask of confidence, Agnès found solace in uniting with other spirits. For 3 songs Tarbes, Jeanne d’Albret and Fum, inspired by an Occitan poem of Louisa Paulin (1888-1944), she invited the young voices of Conservatoire Henri Duparc a building she knows intimately, despite never feeling allowed to enter as a child to breathe the energy of their adolescence into this record. She also collaborated with Lyon’s own François Virot to imbue his delicate rhythms into her work, as well as Belgian guitarist Mocke Depret. Lastly, La Féline entrusted the last production stages to her eternal partner in music, Xavier Thiry, with Stéphane “Alf” Briat on the mixing board. The final piece has a complex tranquility, surrounded by non-verbality, with Jeanne d’Albret, Louisa Paulin and the Pyrénées safeguarding Agnes’ secrets. With the calm reassurance of her metamorphoses, La Féline delivers a slice of silence to her town, serving as both her cradle and theater. Tarbes’ Théâtre des Nouveautés is where Agnès Gayraud, La Féline, has decided to present Tarbes to its residents on October 14, 2022. While “nouveautés” evokes newness, this theater is reminiscent of a future which is already outdated, where modernity is only vague and fictional, carrying reminders of French haute-kitsch accordionist Yvette Horner, whose parents were the caretakers of what was then called the Cani Eldorado a bastion of virtue through the 30s, with its lineup of Catholic films. However, by the 60s, it would have become a temple of pornographic cinema. Tarbes, “Les Nouveautés”, end card. In the mid 90s, then 16 years old, Agnès discovered the volatile dust and the ghosts of the past that were hidden in this apostate theater. This phantom bequeathed song the teenager with the gift of her undeniable talent at her first appearance on stage a high school performance of a guitar-laden ballad sung in Spanish, a language her Andalusian mother has infused her with. On October 14, 2022, Agnès returns to the stage, bass in hand and joined by François Virot (drums), Mocke Depret (guitar), Léa Moreau (keyboard) and the Conservatoire de Tarbes singers to perform the album in its entirety

Circassian-Turkish Producer Sine Buyuka debuts new solo project Sinemis with lush, graceful album ‘Dua’, gently combining the ancestral Sufi music of her homeland with sophisticated techno-inflected ambient. Dua’s life began with a life-threatening illness. “I started feeling unwell last year and no one could figure out the reason,” Sine writes. “It was a scary time, not knowing and trying to manage symptoms while they slowly worsened. In late 2021, while I was visiting my family in Turkey during the Christmas break, I was taken into A&E. After more tests, I had a diagnosis and had surgery in January.” Following this, within the healing process - highly emotional as well as physical - Sine was drawn to the traditional Sufi music of Turkey and the Middle East. Ritualistic music to accompany ancient sema ceremonies, in which whirling dervishes enter a transcendental consciousness through ecstatic movement and repetition. With this influence at heart, Sine began work on ‘Dua’, with a newly-formed artist name to signify new, unfamiliar music from a celebrated electronic producer. For her, the album marks a significant step in her recovery. But it is also a potent marriage of contemporary and ancestral trancestates, interweaving sci-fi synthesis and floor shaking bass tones with mystic imagery, textures and timbres. A meditative, spiritual balm that melds field recordings, found sounds, ambient soundscapes, electronics and acoustic instrumentation to celebrate life and survival in challenging circumstances. The breathy, cinematic tones of album opener ‘Dua’ hover and shiver in preparatory stasis as broken-machine punctuation begins to dot rhythmically through the space. A yearning, repeated vocal sample - a living, beating heart inside the machine - characterises a crucial theme for the album: the marriage of digital instrumentation with the analogue, the human and the organic. Later, ‘Elegy’ reflects its title with heartbreaking chordal shifts and glitching birdsong, conjuring a sound world somewhere between KMRU and Max Richter. Key track ‘Gazel’ moves in glacial slo-mo, like whirling dervishes frozen in time at the peak of their trance. Euphoric ceremony made haunting and poignant without losing a mote of power…Across the album, the timbres of Sufi ritual are often captured by the otherworldly presence of the historic ney flute, said to be as old as the Holy Books. “Sufi music can be created using several different instruments but the ney flute is at the heart of it. The sounds emanating from this fascinating instrument kept capturing my imagination,” Sine tells us. Working both with samples and with Turkish musician Omar Faruk Tekbilek, Sine achieves a rare balance of reverence and recontextualisation for such a time-honoured instrument, here performed by a lifelong student of its intricacies and mysteries. In Sinemis’ hands, the processing and sonic treatment of the ney even sometimes renders it indistinguishable from Dua’s synthesis and sound-design

The electronic music producer and DJ whose catalogue of collaborations namechecks acts as diverse as Agoria, Green Velvet, Roman Flugel to Nitzer Ebb, Depeche Mode and David Holmes is set to release his 6th studio album The Strand Cinema on the 24th March on his own label PKR.

The last five years have seen an evolutionary shift for the electronic musician, undertaking more soundtrack work, including for film (Nightride on Netflix, Rough), radio (The Northern Bank Job BBC R4) and theatre (East Belfast Boy).

The Strand Cinema album is a tribute to the art deco cinema building , The Strand, where Phil’s recording studio is. A stirring and beautiful record, it seamlessly traverses the worlds of contemporary classical to beautifully elevated dance music with a recognisably cinematic influence. Managing to sound both grand and expansive, as well as minimal and introspective – it’s a record that explores the macro and the micro.

The opening track “Strand Cinema”, begins with a steady, gentle, looping pulse, almost recalling the kosmische ripples of Cluster, before sweeping and enveloping strings enter, resulting in a track that manages to sound both grandiose and tender in one fell swoop.

Lead single “Atlantic” perhaps most perfectly encapsulates the various sonic worlds that Kieran is operating in, merging a bordering on euphoric dance beat layered with infectious melodies, while remaining anchored to organic sounds, as strings and percussion collide with the driving and hypnotic groove of the track.

“Strike the Match” showcases Kieran’s talents for detail, in a track that feels almost palpably textural and rich in complexity but without feeling overly busy or superfluous; while “Elephant in Castle” utilises intense, almost gargling electronics, that drone with a foreboding and ominous tone, but also produces fractured moments of light, beauty and poignancy.

Created during Covid Kieran’s method was “To literally be like a tuning fork and ask: What's in my chest? If I were to describe what's inside me, and what's going on in the outside world, If I had to score that in a film, what would it sound like right now? I guess I sort of soundtracked my own life”

“One positive side of lockdowns was that we spent more time in natural surroundings where I’d make field recordings. I’d also record acoustic sounds: cello, violin, percussion, guitar etc and then create my own sample bank from all these single one-note sounds. So, creating your own loops and drones. The album was created from organic sounds manipulated by machines; melted, mangled and hacked with computers but machines only sound as good as the human spirit put into them.
The idea of nature and humans versus technology is the concept behind the album’s A/V show which debuts in Belfast in March before touring. Featuring works by 11 artists from across the worlds of film, animation, advertising, architecture, computer science and dance such as Scottish BAFTA nominated Simone Smith, LA based director Frederico Marzio Vitetta who is famous for skateboarding films like ‘Wet Dream’ with Spike Jonze, to futuristic CGI from BAFTA nominated Kris Kelly and a video from contemporary dancer Oona Doherty. onscreen visualisations that explores The visuals explore nature and technology along a timeline from past, present to future with cinema as a loose reference point with varying degrees of utopian versus dystopian moods.

Strawberries ripen in the spring. Or so they used to, in a more reliable world, one that seems to be rapidly receding in our collective rearview mirror. Presently, “spring” is a troubled concept — fraught with anxiety. Our seasons, if they are seasons at all, are paradoxical. Crops fail, or they ripen prematurely, all at once, and into a burst of rot. Impossibly, somehow, the supermarket shelves stay stocked (mostly, for now at least), and there are buckets of strawberries on every corner. But, of course, their nature is suspect. And they don’t taste like they used to. Or maybe that’s just ruinous nostalgia. But somewhere along the way we certainly lost something. Everybody knows.

Strawberry Season (Leaving Records, November 9 2022) responds tenderly to this sorry state of affairs, not with false comfort — nor escapism. Rather, the album conveys, often wordlessly, that there remains an abundance of sweetness amidst our increasing unease. While much of twentieth century American popular and folk music may have dwelt on the beauty and plenitude of the prairie, More Eaze applies a similar Romantic focus to the small bursts of fecundity that now hide in plain sight. Blending found sound, generative music, a knack for elegant, classically-informed melodic arrangement, and a sort of Liz-Fraser-by-way-of-hyperpop approach to vocals, Strawberry Season offers unique solace — providing an occasion for the kind of deep listening that our overstimulated and undernourished spirits require if there is to be any hope at all (and of course there must be hope).

More Eaze (serving as composer, songwriter, multi-instrumentalist, producer, and sound artist) guides us incrementally to this locus of attentiveness. Strawberry Season begins with the softly sweeping gentle pets. Early intimations of Velvet Underground give way, indeed, to a string arrangement that John Cale might have saved for Paris 1919. The second track, Suped, features a kaleidoscopic swirl of grocery checkout scanners that eventually coalesce and release with the subtle strumming of a harp. On known, in the midst of a nearly elegiac outflow of feeling, a shower starts to run. Someone steps inside, pulling the curtain back, sending the plastic rings clattering. Moments later, the unmistakable sound of the showerer blowing their nose — an inclusion that is at once light-hearted and jarringly, movingly intimate.

Strawberry Season’s second to last song, low resolution at santikos, serves as a sustained meditation on all that has come before it. Building slowly throughout its nine minutes, teetering, at times, on the edge of danceability, it dissipates suddenly, and Strawberry Season concludes with the rustling of clothes, snippets of distant conversation, creaking floorboards, an exhale and a sniff. There is a feeling of having arrived, of temporary reprieve in the face of uncertainty. A hint of a season yet to come, or one that is perhaps only now accessible in dreams.