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Vivel is Alexander Eldefors’ second release under his own name. Built around eurorack and field recordings, many captured during still moments while traveling to visit family and friends. The album was created during a period of transition. It functions as an anchor in a time of change, representing a sense of home, safety, and stillness.

Alexander Eldefors is a producer, composer, and mixing engineer based in the countryside outside of Stockholm, Sweden. With a background as both a sound engineer and musician, he has spent years recording, mixing and playing in a wide range of bands and solo projects. In 2019, he consciously slowed down and returned to a more intimate and quiet musical expression, leading to the release of his debut album Bergen in 2020 under his own name. Bergen is the Swedish word for mountains and reflects the fact that Alexander grew up in the north of Sweden close to the mountains.

His music is minimalistic, melodic, and embracing, shaped by a deep connection to nature. Natural environments are a constant presence in his work, serving both as inspiration and as a sound source. Alongside this, he is drawn to the raw textures of everyday objects, working with foley sounds and field recordings. His arrangements unfold as organic sound collages, where elements blend freely and imperfections are preserved to maintain a natural, human feel.

L. Jacobs releases his second album, Behind the Great Curve, on the Belgian label Blickwinkel. Featuring contributions from Milan W., Sarah Yu Zeebroek, and Joachim Badenhorst, the follow-up to the surprising debut Enthusiasm was initially composed and recorded in Jacobs’ small attic room and later refined at Milan W.’s Van den Nest Studio, where W. also handled production and mixing.

A line or outline which gradually deviates from being straight for some or all of its length.

Behind the Great Curve explores and celebrates the beauty and universality of the abstract notion above and what we commonly refer to as the curve. Its presence, allegedly, is everywhere. It is a form that appears visually, mathematically, and symbolically — a line that suggests motion, time, expectation, and impermanence.

This album aims to listen to all of this — the poetry, the irony, and the faint background hum of modern life — with quiet curiosity. Within a gently meandering, synthesized landscape, a collection of dreamlike compositions unfolds: delicate melodies, sparse percussion, warm buzzing synths, and fragments of field recordings coexist in carefully measured imperfection. Colorful yet minimal in aesthetic, the album does not seek to explain the curve, but to follow it.

Amulets is the solo project of Portland-based audio and visual artist Randall Taylor. Amulets employs handmade cassette tape loops and live processed guitar loops to create live, lush soundscapes and immersive drones. Through the recontextualisation of cassettes, sampling, field recording, and looping, these long-form compositions blur the genres of ambient, drone, noise, and electronic music. Amulets has steadily built a catalog defined by tactile intimacy and patient exploration. Deeply immersive, the album navigates the dreamy boundaries between the tangible and the ethereal, where sound behaves as memory itself: unstable, layered, and quietly transformative. Known for his ability to weave soundscapes that evoke powerful emotions with minimalistic instrumentation, Taylor's newest project is a masterful exploration of mood, atmosphere, and texture.Throughout the ambient soundscapes is introspection, melancholy, and an almost hypnotic calm. The album resists forward motion, instead inviting the listener to linger inside its evolving textures, to sit with what's left behind rather than rush toward resolution. Central to Amulets' identity is Taylor's insistence on working, quite literally, outside the box. While many contemporary experimental artists rely heavily on software, Taylor's process remains rooted in physical interaction with sound. "This album differs from previous albums because it's a lot of found sounds, song fragments, and other samples that I have that I wanted to fuse together. I also heavily relied on a lot of ambient guitar and live guitar recording to marry all the sounds together." (Randall Taylor) FOR FANS OF Tim Hecker * Ben Frost * Lawrence English * Alessandro Cortini * This Will Destroy You * Mono * Windy & Carl

GOLLIWOG is billy woods' first album in two years, preceded by 2023's Maps, his second collaboration with producer Kenny Segal. That nimble travelogue has little in common with woods' newest work, despite the fact that Segal shows up a couple times in the credits. GOLLIWOG is a haunting collection that weaves horror, humor, surrealism and Afropessimism into a cinematic tapestry, aided and abetted by a murderer's row of producers. African zombies, time traveling trap cars, malevolent ragdolls and a dying Frantz Fanon are just a few of the revelers in woods' danse macabre. GOLLIWOG features production from The Alchemist, Kenny Segal, EL-P, Conductor Williams, Preservation, Messiah Musik, Sadhugold, Ant (Atmosphere), Shabaka Hutchings, Steel Tipped Dove, DJ Haram, Willie Green, Jeff Markey, Saint Abdullah, and LA-based experimental jazz trio Human Error Club. Meanwhile, woods is joined on the mic by Backwoodz labelmates ELUCID and Cavalier, along with rappers Bruiser Wolf, Despot, Al.Divino, and singer-songwriter Yolanda Watson. GOLLIWOG is another triumph in the woods oeuvre, as layered and compelling as anything he has ever done. A black carnival pitched in a muddy field overnight, empty rides whirring and clattering in the dark.

Marking twenty years since South African producer and DJ Esa Williams left Cape Town, Dala What We Must is a deeply personal and expansive debut LP, an exploration of movement, memory, and sound shaped by two decades of creative evolution.

Co-created with collaborator and multi-instrumentalist Robin G. Breeze, the album deftly combines field recordings, layered instrumentation, and emotionally resonant compositions into a nuanced, globally influenced body of work. It also stands as Esa’s most collaborative release to date, featuring contributions from musicians across London, Oaxaca, Nairobi, and Cape Town, each adding their own creative energy to a project built on openness, trust, and shared experience.

The album draws inspiration from Esa’s recent ventures into documentary scoring and soundtracking, with projects like Cursed (Audible) and The Invisible Hand teaching him to listen differently, to honour space, to serve the story. That sensibility permeates the album, resulting in music that breathes, lingers, and listens as much as it speaks.

The title, Dala What We Must, is a South African call to action: a reminder to do what’s necessary, even in uncertainty. Finalised in the months leading up to Esa’s transition into fatherhood, the record carries a sense of grounding, care, and quiet transformation.

Dala What We Must is a sonic reflection of journey and community, a deeply collaborative project rooted in connection and guided by intention.

Marking twenty years since South African producer and DJ Esa Williams left Cape Town, Dala What We Must is a deeply personal and expansive debut LP, an exploration of movement, memory, and sound shaped by two decades of creative evolution. Co-created with collaborator and multi-instrumentalist Robin G. Breeze, the album deftly combines field recordings, layered instrumentation, and emotionally resonant compositions into a nuanced, globally influenced body of work. It also stands as Esa’s most collaborative release to date, featuring contributions from musicians across London, Oaxaca, Nairobi, and Cape Town, each adding their own creative energy to a project built on openness, trust, and shared experience. The album draws inspiration from Esa’s recent ventures into documentary scoring and soundtracking, with projects like Cursed (Audible) and The Invisible Hand teaching him to listen differently, to honour space, to serve the story. That sensibility permeates the album, resulting in music that breathes, lingers, and listens as much as it speaks.

The title, Dala What We Must, is a South African call to action: a reminder to do what’s necessary, even in uncertainty. Finalised in the months leading up to Esa’s transition into fatherhood, the record carries a sense of grounding, care, and quiet transformation. Dala What We Must is a sonic reflection of journey and community, a deeply collaborative project rooted in connection and guided by intention.

Some years ago, Kjell Bjørgeengen and Keith Rowe attempted to convert video signals into sound by setting up Rowe’s pickups next to an old CRT monitor, turning its magnetic field into a sound generator. Rowe further developed the system with David Jones at Alfred University, slimming down the setup using a copper coil, a circuit board, a video input, and a telephone pickup. Jones named it the »Flood Coil«, and it’s that instrument you can see on the album’s front cover and that lies at the core of these recordings, made without any physical live input from the artists themselves. In essence, it’s generative music in its purest form.

Bjørgeengen’s video feed is generated by oscillators, then routed into Marhaug’s pedals and then back into the Flood Coil, so any visual shifts alter the sound, and any modification to the sound changes the video. The duo have played this setup live many times, but for this studio version they left the system to do its thing without any intervention for two minutes at a time before moving onto the next idea. They recorded hours and hours using this process and then selected 18 highlights for this album, extracting harsh noise, power electronics, lulling feedback drone, and peculiar rhythmic snippets to show the scope of their technique.

A wall of growling, hi-octane Pulse Demon-style noise opens the set, gradually exposing us to more asymmetric textures, shifting through unstable repetitions that transform Merzbow’s metal-inspired screams into »Aaltopiiri«-era rhythmic noise. It’s remarkable, actually, how much Marhaug and Bjørgeengen can squeeze from the system, chancing on shivering, lower-case chugs and pops, galloping drums, soundsystem subs, and grinding blast beats that sound like Napalm Death’s »Scum« piped through a broken amp stack. It ain’t pretty, but noise/industrial freaks will revel in the fierce delights inside.

Remixed With Love has set the benchmark for disco reworks for over a decade, with Dave Lee universally recognised as the most trusted name in the field when it comes to respectfully updating dancefloor classics from the original multi-tracks.

With original vinyl editions long deleted and constant demand from DJs and collectors, this brand-new one-off, vinyl-only release has been made possible via a fresh licensing deal with Sony Music, allowing eight of the most requested mixes from the catalogue to be pressed together for the first time.

This is not a repress; it is a bespoke, limited selection, and once the pressing has sold through, it cannot be repeated.

A cocktail of rebellious queer vocal fragments, deceptive percussive granules and swaying hammered vibrations, upsammy and Valentina Magaletti's first collaboration trembles with suspense. The seeds of 'Seismo' were sown following a commission from Amsterdam's Rijksmuseum to soundtrack an exhibition of work from the Museum Boijmans van Beuningen in Rotterdam and the duo didn't want to approach their collaboration flippantly. So, wandering the museum's maze of rooms, they recorded various improvised percussive sounds with their arsenal of microphones, using the space to inform various rhythms and textures that were sculpted later into electroacoustic vignettes. This was just the starting point, though; as Magaletti and upsammy began performing together, the project evolved and 'Seismo' began to take shape. The duo had struck on a salient aesthetic concept, using mostly digital and acoustic mallet instruments to blur the boundary between their roles and create friction between the synthetic and the authentic. And the finished record is a phantasmagoric push-and-pull between its various conflicting elements: harmony and dissonance, randomness and predictability, openness and constraint. 'Seismo' isn't the first time that upsammy has studied her environment in search of revelation. On her acclaimed second album, 2024's 'Germ in a Population of Buildings', the Amsterdam-based DJ, producer and multidisciplinary artist erected her complex, unorthodox rhythms and eerie melodies around a modernist frame of field recordings collected in various cityscapes, countering heavyweight basslines with subtle, microscopic sounds. London-based Italian vanguard Magaletti, meanwhile, has applied her unique logic to innumerable projects at this point, working with everyone from batida icon Nídia and hardcore-dub outfit Moin to French writer Fanny Chiarello and British bass scientist Shackleton. For years she's approached the drums with criticism, attempting to challenge any preconceptions, something that's most visible on 2020's 'A Queer Anthology of Drums'. And both artists' thoughtful perspectives are welded together seamlessly on 'Seismo', a dizzying suite of eight eccentric statements that's fragile but never insecure, gauzy but not indistinct. An unnerving sense of space characterizes 'It Comes to an End' as Magaletti's in situ improvisations herald for upsammy's microscopic glitches and chiming pitch-bent melodies. It's almost unbalancing to witness the track's impossible dimensionality, the interplay between reverberant marimba hits and bone-dry synths, or percussion that's been recorded and processed in consciously different settings. A new architecture emerges in the sound itself that the two artists scan and explore meticulously, testing its boundaries with undulating hybridized rhythms on the invigorating 'Superimposed' and offsetting the powdery drums with liquified smacks and alien voices. The duo's vibrations are knotted with piano flourishes on 'Hyperlocalize', balanced with artificial clanks and clangs that disappear into the track's sonorous atmosphere, replaced by whispers and half-hallucinated insectoid chirps. 'Seismo' is an album that feeds off the energy generated by its juxtapositions: the tension and anticipation that's melted by rapid, hyperactive movement and the finely drawn rhythms disrupted by a layer of indistinct, barely perceptible microsounds. It's a collaboration that sounds like two minds challenging each other but not wrestling, each peering from their own distinct vantage point and imagining a third landscape shaped by optimistic, queer vibrations.

As Nathan Fake rises from the nocturnal subterranea and rave catharsis of his previous records, on Evaporator, he resurfaces into the domain of daylight, bringing a tangible sense of air rushing against your face, of big skies, and endless landscapes.

The idea of pop accessibility that trickled into 2023’s Crystal Vision is refracted here through the prism of sweeping ambient, deep electronica, and trance uplift. Evaporator is Fake’s idea of “airy daytime music”, with each track a different barometer reading across the album’s varying atmospheres, which range from vibrant sunbursts, bracing rainscapes, and fine mists of clement melodics. “It’s not overtly confrontational electronic club music,” states Fake. “It’s quite pleasant, it’s accessible. As I was progressing through making the tracklist, I called it a daytime album. It doesn’t feel like an afterparty album.” For the past decade Fake has been gingerly introducing collaborations with heroes and friends alike into his lone, idiosyncratic working process.

Border Community alumni Dextro AKA Ewan Mackenzie transmutes his ferocious drumming for Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs into the blurred choral thump of ‘Baltasound’. ‘Orbiting Meadows’, meanwhile, is his second collaboration with Clark, an eerily idyllic duet where microtonal 18EDO piano clangs slowly twirl around wailing pads. Evaporator marks the junction point of old technology and ever fresh creativity for Nathan. The trusty “dinosaur” age software, particularly Cubase VST5, that has powered two decades of music is rarely updated. “I used to sort of feel a bit ashamed of using such old software, and then I kind of had an epiphany – that’s just how I work”, comments Fake. “That’s just how I play. I’m very fond of these old tools, and I get the most joy out of them, but now I’ve incorporated new technology too.” When an artist accumulates so much synergy with their instrument, music making becomes instinctual. By Fake’s account, much of Evaporator just fell into place. The album title arrived randomly in his head (“it felt completely perfect. Airy.”), ideas looped and developed until things locked into place and just felt right. ‘The Ice House’ is a fleeting glimpse of the sonic world he taps into in this creative state, its glassy FM synths built around a counterpoint between rough-hewn crystalline arpeggios and sparse yet gravitas-bearing bass. “That riff I just wrote out on the keyboard, I just played it forever and ever and ever.

The original track ended up being really short. Here you go, and it’s gone!” These unplanned channellings of sound call forth records from Fake’s past while he looks ahead, perhaps getting at the very essence of his musicianship. The opener ‘Aiwa’ (“the breeziest,” he muses) reminds of the introspection that characterised Providence, excited by the fire and grit of Steam Days’ textural experiments, its chunky slams and clatters surging into a flood of harmonic buzzing as they reach out for old wisdom. ‘Hypercube’ stampedes in a similar chronological confluence, infusing an incessant synth line reminiscent of the golden age of rave with the crackling, ecstatic energy of modern festival anthems. Like the vaporisation of liquid to particles, everything that Evaporator presents has a mutant desire to be amorphous. Sounds rarely settle; the irradiated garage beat of ‘Bialystok’ is pitched downwards to driving, rebounding effect, while ‘You’ll Find a Way’ warps static into shivering energy, cinematic synth strings building anticipation into a gradual gush of chords. This translates into a more expansive stereo field than Fake has explored before.


‘Slow Yamaha’ saves the wildest, most kinetic transformations for last with a cornucopia of crispy melodies and fried drums; a sibilance of cymbals on the left, a susurrus of shakers on the right, and kaleidoscopic lasers pulsing and fizzing all around. Evaporation culminating in pure excited atoms.

Grady Steele (Formant Soundsystem) debuts on FELT with the tender spectre of Nausea, poignant patterns captured through the dusk-hued window pane.

Co-founder of the Formant Soundsystem, a travelling rig that’s powered forward-thinking dances in London and Paris, Grady Steele has championed both experimental and club music at the cutting edge. Concurrently to this, he debuted his own productions back in 2024 for Archaic Vaults. Uniquely intimate, his music shone lowkey and warm with an assured glow. It’s no surprise then to find his inimitable sounds land neatly on Fergus Jones’ FELT imprint.

Nausea extends across seven movements, narrating sentimental parallels of familiarity. Grady posits concentrated pangs of post-rave nostalgia with rich melodic sustenance, a vivid introspection tempered with field recordings and live instrumentation. Strummed guitars and aching pads move purposefully with the suspended pace, an immersive beatless vista from its opening quiet moments through to the guttural noise-laden finale. It’s a brief, beautiful collection from Grady Steele and another string to FELT’s unpredictable bow.

Written, recorded and produced by Grady Steele

Mastered by Miles Whittaker

Cover photo by Alex Kurunis

Emerging from the vivid chaos of Detroit’s underground, ZelooperZ returns with Dali Ain’t Dead — a surreal yet deeply grounded statement from one of rap’s most singular voices. Following his recent collaborative exploration Dear Psilocybin (with Real Bad Man) — which found him moving through a “stream of psychosis” just before sobriety. (Pitchfork) — ZelooperZ enters this new chapter not simply as the same intricate-flows rapper, but as a rising cult-figure in underground hip-hop who’s forged an identity both enigmatic and quietly unstoppable.

On Dali Ain’t Dead, ZelooperZ channels the spirit of the surreal — the album’s title a nod to the iconic surrealist artist Salvador Dalí — as he reframes his world post-substance, post-chaos, yet still dripping with vivid imagination. Reviews highlight that the album finds him in a more focused mode: one critic writes that “ZelooperZ seems to have adopted a similar outlook to Dalí… embracing sobriety and allowing his art to exist as the psychotropic fuel for his mind.” (Album of the Year) Production (courtesy of Dilip) is inventive and cohesive, blending experimental hip-hop, trap, cloud-rap and drumless textures to mirror Ze’s newly clear-eyed vantage point and trademark eccentricity. (Legends Will Never Die)

Tracks like “Mona Lisa Left Eye” and “Push Me Around” (featuring Zack Fox) carry Z’s jagged humor and restless energy, while deeper cuts like “Shrooms” and “Take Me I’m Drugs” trace his evolving relationship with psychedelia and the legacy of his past. (Legends Will Never Die) In doing so, the record positions itself as the sound of a freak-icon in transition — still wild, still weird, but sharpened, matured, operating with a purpose and increasingly commanding the attention of fans who relish the underground unusual.

ZelooperZ’s trajectory continues to rise. From his roots in the Bruiser Brigade collective in Detroit to the present moment as a cult figure whose every release feels like a mission statement, Dali Ain’t Dead confirms that he’s no longer just the oddball off-to-the-side: he’s the weirdo that others are quietly watching. This album isn’t just for the longtime disciples of his left-field aesthetic — it’s an invitation to anyone curious about hip-hop bending, breaking, and rebuilding itself from the fringes inward.

2026 Repress

For all those who relate “maybe to the wind, because they can feel it, or dirt, because they can touch it. But nothing else.” Like Bobby Cornett (aka Shane), we are all trying to find where we belong.

Belong To The Wind marks Forager Records’ debut release: A lovingly curated collection of crooning psychedelic folk and soul songs gathered from American 45s of the 1970s. The compilation features 10 songs from 10 different acts, each with an indelible story of love, loss, loneliness, and an unrelenting desire to shed the confines of routine existence.

Meet a man named Denny Fast, perched behind a tobacco stained piano in a smokey Michigan lounge. He’s singing of the faded memory of distant hope and better times past. Listen to a portrait of the heartless Texan, told in arrestingly angelic prose by Connie Mims of St. Elmo’s Fire. Contemplate with Snuffy, the honest musings of a failed and misunderstood outsider, daring to hope for change.

Belong To The Wind aims to shed light on the more opaque cuts of these brooding artists. Many of these songs were recorded at the early stages of a career, at a time when experimenting and searching are pursued with reckless abandon. As a result, these songs are aggressively honest and uncompromising. Many have a distinct sense of the lo-fi DIY variety. Others are polished in production. Some are minimal, tentative and vulnerable. What all of these songs share, is a transportive quality. An uncanny ability to take a captive listener on a search for the soul, and a journey into the bellowing fields of easy reflection.

Sit back and enjoy a soft trip through the hazy milieu of a loner’s mind.

Pleasure, shame, and survival often arrive tangled together, indistinguishable in the moment. Camgirl, from Crippling Alcoholism, takes that entanglement as its starting point. Rather than separating desire from damage, the record allows them to coexist, tracing a path through obsession, performance, and persistence without offering clean resolution.
Camgirl is the 2025 breakthrough album from Boston’s Crippling Alcoholism, a record that frames pop immediacy against obsession, endurance, and collapse. Built from ear-wormy hooks and abrasive noise rock textures, the album smuggles grotesque and confrontational subject matter into songs that remain deliberately melodic. Pleasure and revulsion blend throughout, with choruses that linger even as the lyrics refuse comfort.

Released on September 12, 2025, Camgirl follows a loose narrative centered on a sex worker moving through cycles of exploitation and survival, treating intimacy as spectacle and visibility as threat. Songs flicker between desire and despair, confession and performance, flooded with artificial light. Despite its subject matter, the record resists nihilism. Its closing moments arrive quietly triumphant, not through escape or redemption, but through persistence itself.
Originally released on vinyl by Portrayal of Guilt Records, the first pressing of Camgirl sold out quickly. The Flenser reissue makes the album widely available for the first time, reaffirming it as a defining statement from a band operating at the intersection of pop form, noise, and lived experience.
Press Quotes

Camgirl proves that Crippling Alcoholism can evolve without losing their edge, and this record is a dark, irresistible bop. - Lambgoat
Elements of goth rock and melancholic vocals call back to loud rock while blending with an overall instrumental field brimming with energy. - Outside noise
Blurring the lines between outsider noise rock and dark glamorous synth-laden pop under a deceptively alluring glow… compulsively, squirmingly catchy. - The Progressive

Pleasure, shame, and survival often arrive tangled together, indistinguishable in the moment. Camgirl, from Crippling Alcoholism, takes that entanglement as its starting point. Rather than separating desire from damage, the record allows them to coexist, tracing a path through obsession, performance, and persistence without offering clean resolution.
Camgirl is the 2025 breakthrough album from Boston’s Crippling Alcoholism, a record that frames pop immediacy against obsession, endurance, and collapse. Built from ear-wormy hooks and abrasive noise rock textures, the album smuggles grotesque and confrontational subject matter into songs that remain deliberately melodic. Pleasure and revulsion blend throughout, with choruses that linger even as the lyrics refuse comfort.

Released on September 12, 2025, Camgirl follows a loose narrative centered on a sex worker moving through cycles of exploitation and survival, treating intimacy as spectacle and visibility as threat. Songs flicker between desire and despair, confession and performance, flooded with artificial light. Despite its subject matter, the record resists nihilism. Its closing moments arrive quietly triumphant, not through escape or redemption, but through persistence itself.
Originally released on vinyl by Portrayal of Guilt Records, the first pressing of Camgirl sold out quickly. The Flenser reissue makes the album widely available for the first time, reaffirming it as a defining statement from a band operating at the intersection of pop form, noise, and lived experience.
Press Quotes

Camgirl proves that Crippling Alcoholism can evolve without losing their edge, and this record is a dark, irresistible bop. - Lambgoat
Elements of goth rock and melancholic vocals call back to loud rock while blending with an overall instrumental field brimming with energy. - Outside noise
Blurring the lines between outsider noise rock and dark glamorous synth-laden pop under a deceptively alluring glow… compulsively, squirmingly catchy. - The Progressive

Pleasure, shame, and survival often arrive tangled together, indistinguishable in the moment. Camgirl, from Crippling Alcoholism, takes that entanglement as its starting point. Rather than separating desire from damage, the record allows them to coexist, tracing a path through obsession, performance, and persistence without offering clean resolution.
Camgirl is the 2025 breakthrough album from Boston’s Crippling Alcoholism, a record that frames pop immediacy against obsession, endurance, and collapse. Built from ear-wormy hooks and abrasive noise rock textures, the album smuggles grotesque and confrontational subject matter into songs that remain deliberately melodic. Pleasure and revulsion blend throughout, with choruses that linger even as the lyrics refuse comfort.

Released on September 12, 2025, Camgirl follows a loose narrative centered on a sex worker moving through cycles of exploitation and survival, treating intimacy as spectacle and visibility as threat. Songs flicker between desire and despair, confession and performance, flooded with artificial light. Despite its subject matter, the record resists nihilism. Its closing moments arrive quietly triumphant, not through escape or redemption, but through persistence itself.
Originally released on vinyl by Portrayal of Guilt Records, the first pressing of Camgirl sold out quickly. The Flenser reissue makes the album widely available for the first time, reaffirming it as a defining statement from a band operating at the intersection of pop form, noise, and lived experience.
Press Quotes

Camgirl proves that Crippling Alcoholism can evolve without losing their edge, and this record is a dark, irresistible bop. - Lambgoat
Elements of goth rock and melancholic vocals call back to loud rock while blending with an overall instrumental field brimming with energy. - Outside noise
Blurring the lines between outsider noise rock and dark glamorous synth-laden pop under a deceptively alluring glow… compulsively, squirmingly catchy. - The Progressive

But, in the summer of 2024, a personal tragedy changed everything. Michael and Lou lost their six-year-old granddaughter, Bebe, in the Southport attacks in July that year, and, as much as they tried to carry on and make a My Darling Clementine album, with the weight of so much sadness and grief bearing down on them, it just didn't feel the right thing to do. The tragic events of summer 2024 not only changed the music they were making and the songs they were writing, it also altered their outlook on life. Recognising that everyone's grief is individual even that of a husband and wife Michael and Lou needed to channel their suffering via their own individual creativity and in their own way, rather than in collaboration, so they worked on two solo albums. Michael's "Nothing Can Hurt Me Anymore" is the first of the two to be released.

An album the defies genre, it is simply his instinctive musical reaction to the events of summer 2024. Michael writes "To be honest, it was impossible to write about anything else. It overwhelmed everything. I hope I am now creatively exhausted on the subject, but I think it will affect my writing forever, just as indeed, the loss of Bebe will". It features eleven brand new MWK songs Partly recorded in rural Wales and partly in not so rural Sheffield, "Nothing Can Hurt Me Anymore"was produced by Michael, along with wunderkind Clovis Phillips, and the brilliant Colin Elliot, who also mixed the album.

WRWTFWW Records is very happy to announce the release of Interwoven, the deeply moving collaborative album from Ken-ichiro Isoda and aus (Yasuhiko Fukuzono) — now available on limited edition transparent sea green colored vinyl LP housed in a heavyweight sleeve with selective-varnish 3D print, as well as in digipack CD and digital formats.
Recorded between Hachijo Island and Tokyo, Interwoven distills two visionary voices of Japanese ambient and electronic music into a single breath of feather-light and quietly luminous meditative sound.

Isoda is a revered figure of New-age and environmental music whose work on Oscilation Circuit – Série Réflexion 1 (originally released on famed label Sound Process) has long attained mythic status. He composes, notably with harp and wind instruments, produces contemporary music and video game scores, and crafts his very own brand of ambient music from the volcanic island of Hachijo-jima. Tokyo-based electronic composer and synth master aus is known for tender, melody-driven soundscapes. From the two artists comes a dialogue suspended between land and sea, bridging the generation gap and the physical distance between them.

What began as a series of sketches — impressions of water, islands, and shifting light — gradually evolved into an exchange without explanation, a correspondence of sound that dissolved boundaries. In that anonymity, both artists discovered an uncommon freedom: a place where each could move lightly and intuitively, without expectation. The music drifts with a gentle, intuitive grace: lingering piano, soft cinematic synths, and field recordings that unfold like whispered recollections, while flute and saxophone lines pass through like occasional breezes — a human presence felt as warmth more than form.

Interwoven is music for those who cherish stillness and the delicate beauty of the everyday. It’s music for admirers of Satoshi Ashikawa, Midori Takada, Satsuki Shibano, Hiroshi Yoshimura, Takashi Kokubo, Brian Eno, and all who seek a quiet refuge in sound.

DISPLACES represents Fabris' most personal musical journey to date, inspired by the concept of hyperobjects and cartographic practices. The album sculpts a high-dimensional phased time-space composed of concrete materials and digital archetypes in a state of constant displacement. It delves into the symbolic and philosophical realms of mapping as one of the greatest sense-making mechanisms for life, in dialogue with object-oriented environments, superimposition and non-locality applied to cosmic, temporal, and emotional memory.

The sonic ecosystem expands on the image of navigating a path through a set of places, from the microcosm of quanta to the macro force of dark matter, from underwater depths to overland terrains, encapsulating the cyclical flow between birth and death, both in ecological and anthropological sense. The intersection of these shifting states is explored through the extensive processing of the langspil, Iceland's only traditional instrument, intertwined with manipulated field recordings of biophonies and geophonies captured across Icelandic and Venetian territories. These recordings form the backdrop for a meditative process that relocate familiar objects into unfamiliar realms, reflecting on the transformative power of self-reflection while encapsulating the fragmentation and entanglement found in nature and the human state. The record plunges the listener into a disconcerting and physical soundscape, as a “ghostly spectrality that comes in and out of phase with normalized human spacetime,” evoking sensations of suffocation and release as each layer continuously unfolds the palimpsest of the enclosed labyrinth.

“Extraction of the I” embodies a subatomic reaction—erupting as a molecular force that rises, only to re-submerge with a solitary exhale underwater. In this mutated dark space, beluga whales breathe into "Xanadu Phasing," creating a pulsating tension that releases only to unveil a frozen landscape.

In “Barricading the Ice Sheets” the glacial material morphs into a liquid tunnel of digital artifacts, building a wall of noise that shatters into scattered fragments of ice, resembling bird calls from another world.

A moment of stasis is offered with the appearance of an asymmetrical loop in Monolith I, evoking a primitive rite before an unknown force emerges.

The physical intensity of subsonic material in "A Quake in Being" interrupts the hieratic tone, detuning into polluted sonic matter sourced from relics of the First World War in the Venetian Prealps. The geography of this place reconciles with the original homeland in "The Map is the Territory," blending negative space with anthropogenic elements and exploited sounds of the langspil.

The burning density of "Wolf-Rayet" projects into the void, echoing the residual sounds of a local church as relics of fossilized religions. Wolf tones are the remains in Monolith II, introducing the final track, "Topography of Extinction," where evolving psilocin textures invite the listener to uncover deeper layers of meaning and dislocation.