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AN ATLAS OF LOSS

Do minerals dream of becoming semiconductors? Do they yearn to carry charges, amplify, switch, and convert energy into emotions comprehensible to humans? And what if, from the darkness of the underground, they had been listening to us sing in caves before the emergence of the first flute? Could they have guided us, through the course of history, to find them, extract them, and create new sounds through sinusoidal waves, to form valves and bend circuits?

If so, minerals would transition from what philosopher Eugene Thacker defines as the ‘planet’—that virginal and unreachable realm for humans that we study through geology, paleontology, and environmental sciences—to the ‘world,’ the space we inhabit, interpret, and synthesise in our daily lives. Sadly, we only remember the world when it erupts violently, through climate catastrophes or when a new virus emerges. Sometimes a tsunami collides with a nuclear plant, or viruses are cultivated as biological weapons in high-security laboratories, provoking a deep biological anxiety, hard to quell, which we all feel beneath our skin.

There exists a third realm, disconnected from both the world and the planet: the ‘earth’, an immense, dense rock floating in space alongside other planets, situated in the cosmological dimension. Relating to the earth is so complex that we only do so through theoretical speculations of a scientific nature or through science fiction, interweaving until one becomes the prophecy of the other, in an infinite, pendular dance. Beyond the darkness of space and Lovecraft’s cosmic horror, the fantasy of human extinction is the most recurrent: to reach a collapse so devastating that we do not survive it, even though the earth does, without us.

In a world where we quantify everything through body sensors, financial algorithms, nanometre-scale robots, and surveillance drones—a world in which everything that can be domesticated and controlled can also be commodified—a superior artificial intelligence would survive the collapse of the species (some speculate it might even cause it) and learn from our mistakes, thanks to our obsessive gathering of data.

Long after our voices fade, minerals will persist in the darkness of screens, in the silicon of chips, and in their pure form, still unexploited underground. Over the millennia, this intelligence might piece together fragments of our reasoning, as if an alien civilization finally connected with one of our spacecrafts loaded with messages cast into the void. It would sort through endless streams of data, unable to grasp the depths of emotion behind what it quantified, recreating simulations of our past, stripped of the nuance that once defined us and conducting experiments in sandboxes.

Some remnants of our existence—faint echoes of forgotten beauty—would be pieced together in an atlas of loss, buried beneath layers of numbers, decayed bots, and corroded hard drives. What will follow? Perhaps bison will once again roam—trotting to the strange pulse of techno, their ancient forms framed by the ruins of our cities.

Buildings will crumble, slowly dissolving under the soft touch of ambient music, and a thousand flowers will bloom with that ancient music created through electrical signals and computation. 7 songs for a future both improbable and inevitable—a final message from a world lost to itself, from planet Earth to planet Earth.

Alfons Pich, 2025

Following on from the celebrated first instalment, the second part of The Male Body Will Be Next compiles an entourage of daring sonic experiments, composed in response to bell hooks’ landmark book The Will to Change. Prompting artists and musicians to envision cross-gender solidarity, Osàre! Editions founder Elena Colombi presents an enrapturing, narrative album, conceptualised around collective transformation.

Resonating with hooks’ challenge to men to reclaim the sensitivity that patriarchy denies them, the name of the record arises from a photograph by Peter de Potter and Rebecca Salvadori’s film of the same title. In these depictions, naked flesh is exposed, made vulnerable and trembles with emotion as the fragility of masculine bodies are examined through the queer and female oppositional gaze. Transforming this visual language into musical expression, The Male Body Will Be Next swirls with punk vitriol, electrified noise, acid, electro and free-wheeling encounters charged by love, lust and limerence.

Gently plunking chords signal Pose Diva’s reimagining of lover’s rock before Sissy Fuss smashes in with a heavy-weight instrumental version of their erotic anthem ‘No Restraint’.
Made up of Turkish musician Etkin Çekin and Belarussian songstress Galina Ozeran, God is God delivers a gentle lullaby, while Low End Activist flirts with dark and brooding bass, shattering penetrating frequencies into luminous fragments. Riffing off the 2020 documentary about female early electronica pioneers, Loma Doom crafts a slowly oscillating drone zenith, the ultimate climax. In line with the conceptual underpinning, there are plenty of collaborations – Daytripper’s Riva and Sitar player Tommy Khosla, Lebanonese experimentalist N R and Swiss-French producer John Silvestre (AKA Typhon), as well as Colombi herself and trans author/activist Juno Roche. Within these partnerships, new modalities come alive as mediums, practices and perspectives are ignited and pushed in otherworldly, metamorphic directions.

"Dylan Hayes' album debut LP, We Don't Own, We Create, released on Futurepast, is a sonic trip balancing club functionality with experimentation. The two-discs project is a bold statement of artistic intent-where minimalism, industrial textures, and introspective loopy moods collide.

As the result of 8 years of research and experimentation, We Don't Own, We Create is an electronic sci-fi odyssey, unfolding across eight tracks balancing structure with unpredictability. Co-produced and mixed by Davy Vandegaer, this album is also the story of a friendship rooted in a shared vision-crafting a signature 'futurepast' sound where old-school techno aesthetics meet fresh, yet edgy, sonic treatments. The first disc unfolds like a waking dream. My Ikigai sets the tone with pulsating, introspective club energy, blending loopy synths and a growling bass. Plastic World plunges into eerie depths, weaving spectral vocals and fragmented rhythms. Silent Reverie in To Memory drifts through textured atmospheres and layered percussive echoes. Remind Me Ridley twists hypnotic techno into a dense, mantra-like piece-its reverbs and delays build an intensity conjuring into a foggy, shifting auditive illusion.

The second disc marks the awakening, shaking off the haze with Beautiful Struggle, where abrasive loops, industrial bass surges, and dissonant synth layers build tension. Echoes of Fate condenses the album's ethos, unleashing pulsating stabs and humming rhythms that slice through the mix with razor-sharp precision. The eponymous We Don't Own, We Create is an electronic ode to the creative process, where haunting vocal loops weave through deep, trippy synth lines, blurring the boundaries between organic and synthetic. Closing on Mizze, the journey dissolves into pure introspection, fading into the ether.

The record balances four club-driven tracks and four experimental pieces, crafting a distorted, explorative soundscape-an immersive journey where dance music meets dark, avant-garde sound design."

2026 Repress

Mutual Rytm welcome back Swiss DJ/producer Chlär for a bustling, high-octane return as he unveils his latest six-track EP, 'Intrinsic Drive'.

Swiss artist and mastering engineer Chlär's last outing on Mutual Rytm, his 'Optimized Grooves' EP, was a standout success that made an impact far and wide across the techno realm. It was another big step for the fast-rising producer, who is also a dexterous DJ that plays across three and even four decks in the club. A craftsman of sounds, his take on techno is full throttle and has come on labels like Iceland's NIX and Stranger's Self Reflektion imprint. Always looking to improve his sounds, he hits a perfect sweet spot with a fresh and visionary approach across six fresh productions with his 'Intrinsic Drive' EP, again showcasing exemplary creative progression in his ever-impressing production skills.

Up first is 'Dopamine Rush', a quickened techno pumper with synths peeling off the straight-ahead drums and locking you into a state of hypnosis. The title track 'Intrinsic Drive' is a tightly woven mix of drums, hits and bass that never lets up, while the supple rhythm is overlaid with alien sound designs to up the intensity. 'For Marco' takes a heavier path with darkened and more weighty kick drums under eerie synth loops. There is a real swing in the drums of 'Steady Pace' as the crisp hits and vocal fragments all up the ante, before 'Greedy Man' delivers a tough panel beater with skewed synths and an industrial undertone. Digital bonus 'May I Dance?' rounds things out with raw textures and unhinged loops that take you to the heart of a strobe-lit dance floor, shaping up another
mighty fine statement of intent from the ever more vital Swiss native.

Every label’s first release sets a tone. With "Pegasi EP", Saraw establishes itself with a focus on sonic precision and ethereal atmospheres, exploring the intersection of house, techno, and minimalism. Founded by Root, the label debuts with Apolinic, a project that approaches these genres with a sharp, cinematic aesthetic. "Pegasi EP" emphasizes rhythm, space, and texture, with remixes by label owner Root and seasoned producer Tommy Vicari Jnr.

'Alt Nod De Cravata' (A1) builds around crisp percussion and evolving walls of sound, creating a subtle yet persistent momentum perfect for special peak-time moments. 'Root’s remix' (A2) deepens the original’s swing, heightening its hypnotic effect through morphing basslines, shuffling hi-hats, whispered vocal fragments, and emotive pads. 'Sense Of' (B1) plays like a sequel to A1, delving further into its subdued yet cinematic power, infused with oriental-tinged atmospheres. 'Tommy Vicari Jnr’s Remix' (B2) reshapes the original with a refined, pumping house structure, threading acidic undertones through the same atmospheric palette.

Saraw is centered on refined electronic music—focused, understated, and designed for both dancefloor action and deep listening, and "Pegasi EP" marks the beginning of a carefully curated catalog.

QUEENDOM is an album that marks a new era for the project while staying true to the essence of Minuit Machine. Produced under the SYNTH RELIGION label, this opus immerses us in Amandine's introspective realm, oscillating between darkness and light, between doubt and self-conquest. While retaining the emotional DNA of previous productions, QUEENDOM stands out with a more pop-oriented touch, featuring tracks where Amandine sings in French for the first time.

The first single, "HOLD ME," is a powerful pop anthem addressed to the queer community, celebrating the freedom to be oneself and breaking free from societal and patriarchal norms. This track is a true empowerment statement, with striking electro beats supporting a strong message of emancipation and pride.

"Créatures," a collaboration between RAUMM and Minuit Machine, is a modern fairy tale—a timeless love story that could take place in any era. This salvific love, rarely seen today, embodies a poignant depth and beauty.

Continuing the journey, "Cent Fois"—a French-written track—takes us into a techno-pop universe with nostalgic yet hopeful undertones. This song perfectly reflects Minuit Machine's evolution toward a more radiant approach while staying faithful to its dark heritage.

"Party People," on the other hand, is a return to roots with dark wave/italo sounds. This hypnotic and haunting track questions identity in an increasingly robotic society, where individuals are forced to conform to imposed norms. This exploration of the individual versus the collective lies at the core of Minuit Machine's DNA.

"Mes Souvenirs," created in collaboration with Rebeka Warrior, dives intimately into the memories of Amandine and Rebeka. Together, they reveal fragments of their past—precious and vibrant memories that resonate through powerful and melancholic electro sounds.

Finally, the eponymous track "Queendom" invites us to plunge into the depths of Amandine's world—a universe that is both tormented and icy, yet resilient. Supported by a slow and captivating rhythm, this track is designed to grip and haunt the listener, like an incantation.

QUEENDOM is a bold and hybrid work where each track reflects a pursuit of sincerity and artistic reinvention while maintaining the ability to express emotions through rhythms that are both danceable and introspective. The album showcases Minuit Machine's artistic maturity, establishing itself as a must-listen in the darkwave and electronic pop scene.

Amandine entrusted the artistic direction of this album to Manon Dupeyrat, a brilliant young artist who crafted a bespoke universe perfectly aligned with the produced tracks. The album cover, both intimate and anachronistic, invites listeners into Amandine's private world through her bedroom, revealing what she wishes to share.

Soulful hip hop instrumentals from Italy on Best Record-affiliated Quattro Bambole! "The "Moderna Sonorizzazioni" series by Quattro Bambole Music continues its investigation of the infinite expressive possibilities of instrumental hip-hop, recognizing it as the most contemporary form of library music. After the first two chapters - signed by Biga and JayBee Vibes - the third volume of the series, "Sport & Calcio", features the Roman producer Delphi for whom there was a lot of anticipation on the part of both Italian and scattered beatmakers everywhere in Europe and the United States. With the subtitle which is already a declaration of intent ''Tales of a boy from Rome....'' etc. etc., "Sport & Calcio" is an instrumental fresco in which football and sport become narrative pretexts to evoke images, memories and suggestions. The twelve tracks that make up the album are real cinematic sketches, in which Delphi (born Valerio Del Prete) combines raw beats, nostalgic loops, sample-delia and a narrative that evokes family Sundays, spent on the street as well as stadium, and the heat of the crowded stands. Therefore a work that is musically declined based on moments and emotions.. ''Sport & Calcio'' is therefore a deliberately introspective and not very ''danceable'' work. Sound photographs, short descriptions, themes, small fragments associated with television reports on sport... with which the artist touches chords that allow him to express a different compositional depth, a conceptual work, more descriptive and functional to the line of "Moderna Sonorizzazioni" series."

he initial seed for this project was planted in 2020 when Nicolás Jaar wrote the song “Piedras” for a concert at the Museum of Memory & Human Rights in Santiago, Chile, which commemorates the victims of human rights violations during the military dictatorship led by Augusto Pinochet between 1973 and 1990. Between 2022-2023 it took on a new form as a radio play entitled 'Archivos de Radio Piedras', which was shared on a dedicated Telegram channel. In 2024, the play was converted into a 24 channel installation at the University Museum of Mexico City (MUAC), where it was exhibited for 5 months.

Piedras 1 and 2 is a collection of the tracks featured within the play, all new music by Jaar, but partly presented within the play as the music of Salinas Hasbún (the name a composite homage to Jaar's grandmothers, Graciela Salinas and Miriam Hasbún).

The play follows two friends mourning the disappearance of Salinas Hasbún, a musician and writer who vanished in the early 2020s. Although they live in a future where technology is advanced, they
resort to DIY radio methods because the anonymous group “Las 0cho” has launched a worldwide attack on undersea internet cables, causing a global internet blackout.

The play's central theme revolves around the idea that truths, memories and identities speak from the cracks (“rasgaduras”), or the "in-between" spaces ("en el entre"). This concept is supported by the
way much of the narration unfolds - in the liminal spaces between radio frequencies. The instability and transitory nature of a constantly shifting radio dial becomes not just a metaphor but the structure of the play itself. It’s in these moments of noise, static and interference that the deeper revelations of the story emerge. This disjointed, ever-changing medium mirrors the way memory and trauma operate within the play - non-linear, slipping through the gaps, found in fragments or ordinary moments, rather than direct transmissions of “official” historical accounts.

This notion reaches its climax at the end of the narrative, when a text is discovered in which Salinas speaks of finding a new number in a small pond in a cave mentioned in the first episodes of the radio play. This pond, inside the “cochlea of the world”, is seen as a way to introduce real-life randomness to computation. Embodied in the salt lakes of northern Chile, home to the world’s oldest bacteria, this randomness disrupts the rigid order of binary code, paving the way for a transformation of digital life.

First solo release by Nicolás Jaar since 2020’s Telas and Cenizas.

NOTON is pleased to announce the release of Xerrox Vol. 5, the final installment of Alva Noto’s Xerrox series.

For anyone who has been following the series since its inception in 2007, the concept of Xerrox no longer requires introduction. Originally, it aimed to create copies of images—both visual and acoustic—that are more memorable than the originals. The exploration of the relationship between the original and the copy, along with the invention of the copier, not only inspired the series name but also informed its underlying concept. In 2024, this series comes to an end, marking the culmination of a journey that began with the first recording in 2005/2006. Over nearly two decades, the five albums in this series have accompanied the artist's evolving perspective and conceptual approach.

Initially characterized by rawness and a conceptual focus on seeking resolution in white noise, the later works engage with themes of dissolution while shifting their emphasis toward acoustic particles. The copying process is now less visible through software manipulation; rather, it unfolds as the artist describes melodic and acoustic images that are then manipulated, copied, and transformed into new patterns during composition.

Nicolai describes this evolution as a journey encompassing buildup, exploration, and resolution, drawing parallels to the Odyssey and the stories of Jules Verne, particularly those featuring Captain Nemo.

The conclusion of this album holds a sense of finality for the artist. “I aimed to create a whole cycle of tracks that frame both the beginning and the end,” Nicolai explains. “The motif of the journey continues, but this time, the story reaches a dissolution through a conceptual object that embarks on its own journey into infinity. The word “dissolution” (“Auflösung” in German) is a wonderful concept. On one hand, you can solve a riddle, on the other hand, a pill can completely dissolve in water. Here, I am deliberately describing the process of dissolution.”
In crafting Volume 5, Nicolai has evolved his compositional process, eschewing samples in favor of original melodies. “This album probably took the longest to complete,” he reveals. “I first created melodic sketches, which became the foundation for the pieces. These recordings are created entirely from scratch. Based on these sketches, I constructed the process of copying, manipulating, and reshaping.”

Drawing from his recent experiences working with film and larger ensembles, Nicolai's approach to composition reflects a growing influence of classical instrumentation. “This experience of working with acoustic classical instruments has flowed into the compositional process for Xerrox Vol. 5. Certain instruments are designed with potential orchestral translation in mind.”

The sonic atmosphere of Xerrox Vol. 5 is one of profound dissolution. “I wasn’t initially interested in strong, emotional melodic aspects,” Nicolai shares, “but I realized that the fragment plays a central role.” This shift leads to an emotionally charged experience, imbued with melancholy and the bittersweet essence of farewell. The passing of Ryuichi Sakamoto, an admirer of the series, has further deepened the album’s emotional resonance.

“Xerrox Vol. 5 has a lot to do with farewell,” the artist explains. "Not only the farewell to the series itself, which I’ve nurtured for almost two decades, but also there have been many farewells to people who were close to me. I believe these people are recognizable in the music. It’s a very emotional, personal album.”

Listeners can expect a visual dimension to the music, though Nicolai intentionally leaves this open to interpretation. “I prefer to allow the music to evoke personal experiences and images rather than dictate a specific narrative,” he states. The result is a layered listening experience that invites tenderness and introspection.

Erich Fromm's “Escape from Freedom” was published 83 years
ago. His assumption was that modern man, having freed himself
from the shackles of the old days and living freely, longs to
return to the totalitarian, destructive and conformist world. In
2024, the pluralistic and individualized way of life of the socalled West seems self-evident. Boundless freedom is suggested -
but we continue to flee. Utopias are crumbling and conservatism
is experiencing a renaissance. At the same time, the freedom to
decide “ to be able to stay” in contrast to “having to leave”
currently seems to represent a high value.

This EP, between the two producers from Germany and Ukraine, was
created in this field of tension. David Heine and Konstantin
Kost are already working together on the current AMAS project
(Odessa EP)

"Freedom From Esacape" adapts the former title of Erich Fromm's
central work, which is given a prominent role on this record.
Music and techno are freedom and escape at the same time:
transcendence and escapism. In interaction and contradiction at
the same time.

The cover picture was taken on 25 July 1909, when Louis Blériot
became the first person to cross the English Channel in an
aeroplane with the Blériot XI, which he had designed himself.
The reversal of the title and the idea for the cover artwork
came about during a conversation with the artist Jennifer Mattes
in Vienna.

About the tracks:
On the A-side, the two protagonists create a world of minimalist
dub techno, which also has melodic, flat side strands in its
narratives. The more than 60-year-old fragments from TV
interviews with Erich Fromm on the subject of freedom,decisions, constructivism and destruction are presented so
densely and rustlingly that you don't feel compelled to follow
the lecture. Instead, the spoken word corresponds with the
minimalist framework of the two pieces. The old audio recordings
are embedded as part of the composition. Some of it may be
understood and arouse the listener's curiosity, but again and
again you get lost in the repetitive swamp of sound, so that you
may understand more of the text each time you listen to it
without it imposing itself on you.

The two remixes of the first track take a different approach.
"Save Your Atoll" specifically frames and limits the spoken word
in its interpretation and embarks on a hypnotic journey that is
less worldly and more futuristic.

"Anna Kost" goes one step further by literally suffocating the
old man's spoken word, as if the destructive drum patterns were
trying to shut him up.

"Freedom From Escape" will be released on 18 October 2024 in a
physical edition of 200 records and is available digitally on
all common portals.
WEIRDMOUTHRECORDS2024

Kerri Chandler joins forces with Nae (SA) for new single ‘Caged Bird’, accompanied by remixes from the widely beloved Atjazz, and Moplen.

Leading the release is the ‘Full Vocal Media Mix’ of ‘Caged Bird’, which sees Kerri Chandler lay down emotive piano melodies, organic drums and atmospheric strings alongside soulful vocal stylings from South Africa’s Nae.

Up next is Italy’s Moplen, producer for the likes of G.A.M.M. and Lumberjacks In Hell delivers his twist on ‘Caged Bird’, shifting gears into more classic house realms, infusing drifting keys, weighty lowend tones and heavily swung drums and violin melodies with the original’s smooth house aesthetic.

On the flip side is the first ‘Atjazz Remix’ of ‘Caged Bird’, a nine minute cinematic excursion from the British composer, embracing the soulful fragments of the original and twisting them into a slow burning, subtly evolving nine minutes delicately detailed with sweeping echoes, reversed reverberations, crisp percussion and choppy stab sequences. An ‘Atjazz Remix Instrumental’ follows, as the name would suggest stripping away the vocals.

Ten years after his first full-length effort ‘Man Is Deaf’ landed him firmly in the runnings for DJ Mag’s album of the year, prodigal son Michael Anthony Wright AKA Brassica returns to Civil Music with a deeply accomplished, painstakingly whittled LP of hydraulic electro slickness, rich synthscapes, and hooky, peak-time tearjerkers for the most discerning front-left lifers. ‘Tribeless Gathering’ is a barnstorming testament to Brassica’s stylistic and timbral deftness, touching down in the elusive epicentre of the club/home listening venn diagram with ease.

From the elastic, neon acid pointillism of opener ‘Hop Kweng’ to the mardy, miasmic plod of closing chugger ‘Changa Hill’, Brassica seamlessly segues between avenues of influence, his notoriously omnivorous musical knowledge roadmapping each turn. Raised on a diet of everything from early rave standards to metal, and schooled in avant garde sonics as a student of sound design at LCC, Brassica does a peerless job of sublimating his countless influences into a record of refined, heterogeneous, and most crucially, catchy, club moods.

Less spartan than his more recent oeuvre on Feel My Bicep, and less baroque than his technicolour experiments in postmodern synth pop with vocalist Stuart Warwick, Tribeless Gathering represents Brassica’s triumphant return to the main room, replete with rushy hooks primed for the planet’s finest soundsystems, and passages of heads-down tension bound to draw listeners right to the edge of their seats. Overall it is a concise and refined testament to Wright’s command of spectral sonics and effortless ability to pressurise a dancefloor. It is no surprise that he has also worked as a prolific mastering engineer, tuning music from a plethora of dance disciplines for maximum club impact. This work extends to his own projects (including this one), cementing them as rare expressions of complete artistry from studio to turntable.

As we delve deeper into the record, we are ushered through a series of accomplished and varied club moods, each channelling a unique cocktail of influences, but retaining a warm, ebullient analogue sensibility unique to Brassica’s work. This playful scope of influence calls to mind James T Cotton or Machinedrum’s experiments in dance music form, but Wright manages it all under one roof, wrangling everything from sashaying wub-laden two step to snarling Dillinja-esque FM damage into something inherently his.

Choice cut ‘Change Yourself’ layers an almost Cerrone-like piano refrain over radiant surges of saturated bass, dubby, strobing chords and a jagged, driving break, building to a jaw-clenching apex of dancefloor elation, while the rude, playful half-step of ‘Elevation’ breaks down the vintage speed garage formula into linear fragments, utilising a tight palette of resonant bass slugs, infectious synth leads and Papua New Guinea-style vocal strobes. The aptly named ‘Hold Tight’ fuses heart-in-mouth UK ‘ardkore pads with glissando acid disturbance and surgical snare fills in a formula which recalls the ethereal grit of Nubian Mindz’ 00s experiments in big-smoke break science, while the questing melodic arcs and arpeggiated squarewaves of ‘Pinball Marinara’ could easily have soundtracked an 80s sci-fi epic, beset with sparkling, bare-bones drum programming and hazy beds of sub sediment.

With ‘Tribeless Gathering’, Brassica both irreverently fuses and pays homage to the many unique and weird permutations of UK dance music. The short lived gathering of junglists, ravers and house hotsteppas of a similar name may have long since dissipated, along with the tribes themselves, but across these 11 tracks, he lays a blueprint for a new sound of togetherness.

The first record consists of edits, entwined loops, percussive beats, and captivating grooves-a synthesis of intertwined memories. It’s an experiments, search for meanings-a humble homage to the genres that have shaped me and the artists who continuously fuel my inspiration. The second is my personal story, as well as my memories, or rather fragments of them, its about my hometown, Yekaterinburg. the devils from the Ural Mountains who climb into my personality from everywhere, the time spent in Moscow that forged my resilience, and the chapter of relocating to Spain in pursuit of a brighter horizon. These are mere fragments of memories thanks to which I am here and now.

Seoul duo Salamanda arrive on Wisdom Teeth with their latest and most focused LP yet: 'In Parallel' - a vividly textural and immersive record that brings a new level of clarity to their typically psychedelic, expansive approach. Since arriving in 2019, the pair - comprised of friends Uman Therma (aka Sala) and Yetsuby (aka Manda) - have been fast at work mapping out their elaborate, dream-state sonic world - prolifically honing their sound across four albums and over a dozen singles to date. Across their already-extensive discography the pair have established a few key calling cards. Mallet instruments and tuned drums play out playful music-box melodies. Thick washes of gaseous ambience invoke otherworldly or ancient soundscapes. And buried fragments of found sound and manipulated vocal give their otherwise synthetic compositions a warm sense of first-person narrative. Ambient and Reich-school minimalism are the music’s most obvious sonic touchstones - yet the pulse of contemporary club and pop music have never been totally out of earshot. All of these themes come in to play here - but 'In Parallel' signals a step well beyond Salamanda’s work to date. Since 2022’s 'ashbalkum' (released on Wisdom Teeth alumni Tristan Arp’s label, Human Pitch), the duo have toured extensively: at classical institutions like London’s Kings Place as well as DIY club dens like Manchester’s White Hotel, all via a series of globally renowned festivals like Mutek, Nachti and Dekmantel. Their creative set-up has grown steadily alongside to incorporate a whole suite of new machines, processes and perspectives, taking their music in bold new directions in the process. The clearest development here is in the duo’s use of vocals - a shift that has been slowly taking place over their last few records, but that comes to a head on In Parallel. The album’s lead single 'Homemade Jam' is the closest the duo have come to writing an all-out pop track: its buoyant beat and autotuned vocals sounding like something SOPHIE and Charli XCX could have written after a particularly potent batch of mushroom tea. It’s a razor-sharp slice of alt-pop that offers a mouthwatering first look at what happens when Salamanda’s sprawling, unbridled creative energy is distilled right down into something concentrated and polished. At other points their sonic explorations lead them to embrace a more upfront approach to rhythm, skirting closer than ever before to the dancefloor in the process. The meandering drums and vocal chops on 'Paper Labyrinth' are underpinned by a firm 4x4 pulse, while the dembow groove of 'Tonal, Fluid' would feel right at home in a Nick León or DJ Plead set. 'In Parallel' is a record about connection, and the warmth and nostalgic simplicity of friendship is felt vividly throughout. Its title refers to the harmony the duo have found between them as friends and collaborators - and sonic parallels are traced throughout the record as testament to this. Motifs come and go before reappearing at later points: take, for example, the melody underpinning ‘Sun Tickles’, which returns in a different key and tempo on album closer ‘Mysterious Wedding’. Parallel lines are traced between each artist and through their music, linking back to their past and pointing ahead to the future. Only Salamanda know where these will take us next.

Nine months after the well received MXMN002, SAMA is back on his own imprint with his third release. 4 tracks, all centered around a general theme; each track consists of textural soundscapes and heavy growl-like sounds, but with vastly different flavours.

Whereas “There’s Not A lot To Say” is the most subdued and atmospheric track, “Benefit The Masses” is the more in-your-face track, driven by a heavy broken-beat kick pattern.
On the B-side, “Fragments Of Distrust” is a more tribal and groovy track, and to top it off “Gentle Reminder” is the most driving track, with a forward-pushing locked groove. Long story short: there should be a track in there for everyone’s needs.

As with the first two releases, the artwork is painted by Argentinian artist Ric Santesteban.

I Talk To Water, the fifth album for Kompakt by Danish producer Kölsch, is the artist’s most personal statement yet. While all the trademarks that make his music so popular and powerful are still present – lush, melodic techno; swooping, trance-like figures; sensuous, shivery texturology – I Talk To Water is also a deep and intimate rapprochement with family and history, a beautiful, finely detailed document of loss and memory, and a tracing of the long, unbroken thread of grief that runs through our lives once we’ve lost those we loved.

The emotional core of I Talk To Water, then, is a cache of recordings by Kölsch’s father, Patrick Reilly, who passed away in 2003 from brain cancer. With time rendered elastic by the pandemic and its associated lockdowns, its sudden, alienating shifts in everyday living, Kölsch found himself reflecting on his father’s passing and ongoing spiritual presence, thinking about how best to memorialise such a significant figure in his own life. Those recordings opened a gateway, of sorts, for Kölsch to move through – a way to bring past and present together and entwine them in a sensitive, poetic manner.

Kölsch’s father was a musician – “touring in the sixties and seventies, in the Middle East especially, he was doing the whole hippy trail, playing guitar, and wrote some songs over the years,” he recalls. “But all in all, he decided to focus on family rather than pursue a musical career.” Reilly kept playing and writing music over the years, though Kölsch hadn’t listened to the material for some time: “I’d never had the guts to listen to it, because I just felt too fragile listening to his voice. It’s such a tough thing to go through.”

During the pandemic, though, Kölsch listened through the fragmented body of work that his father had produced over the years. “I decided I’m gonna finally release my dad’s music twenty years after his passing,” he reflects. “This whole album is about the process of loss, and for me it’s been one of my main driving forces in my musical life, the whole emotional aspect of whatever I’ve done has been based in that feeling that he’s not there anymore.”

Recordings of Reilly appear on three songs across I Talk To Water. His guitars drift pensively across “Grape”, offering a lush thread of melody that Kölsch wraps with clicking, driftwood rhythms and droning, melancholy bass. “Tell Me” is a lovely three-minute art song, a sadly beautiful reflection, minimally adorned with gentle keys and a muted pulse. And on the closing “It Ends Where It Began”, Kölsch lets his father’s acoustic guitar take centre stage for a lament that’s unexpectedly folksy, a guitar soli dream, which Reilly originally recorded in 1996. “He actually recorded it for my first album that never came out,” Kölsch reveals, “and I had it sitting around forever. That is purely him.”

These three imagined collaborations between father and son are poised and delicate. But their relationship also marks the gorgeous music Kölsch has made across the rest of I Talk To Water, from the itchy yet lush “Pet Sound” (titled in tribute to one of Reilly’s favourite albums), the flickering synths and yearning vocal samples that slide through “Khenpo”, the ecstatic shuddering that marks “Only Get Better”, or “Implant”’s slow-motion pans and subtle reveals.

There’s also the title song, where Kölsch is joined by guest Perry Farrell (Jane’s Addiction, Porno For Pyros), singing a mantra for internal reflection: “I talk to water / Searching for myself / Looking for answers / Oceans of you.” Farrell’s appearance brings another timbre, another spirit to the album, aligning neatly with his recent interest in electronic music. “He was completely taken by this idea of talking to water,” Kölsch says, thinking about the ways we collectively lean towards the natural world as a comfort and a listener, a guide through mourning, a way to map out the terrain of the heart. This mapping is something that Kölsch has proven remarkably adept at through the years; dance music for both body and mind, but also both for the here-and-now, and for the hereafter.

“I Talk To Water”, das fünfte Album des dänischen Produzenten Kölsch für Kompakt, ist zweifellos das persönlichste Statement des Künstlers bislang. Während alle Markenzeichen, die seine Musik so beliebt und kraftvoll machen, immer noch präsent sind – üppige, melodische Techno-Tracks; schwebende, tranceartige Elemente; sinnliche, fiebrige Texturen – ist “I Talk To Water” auch eine tiefe und intime Annäherung an Familie und Geschichte. Es ist ein wunderschönes, fein ausgearbeitetes Dokument des Verlusts und der Erinnerung, und es verfolgt den langen, ungebrochenen Faden der Trauer, der durch unser Leben läuft, sobald wir diejenigen verloren haben, die wir liebten.

Der emotionale Kern von “I Talk To Water” besteht aus Aufnahmen von Kölschs Vater, Patrick Reilly, der 2003 an Hirnkrebs verstarb. Durch die Pandemie und ihre damit verbundenen Lockdowns, die plötzlichen, entfremdenden Veränderungen im Alltag, fand Kölsch sich in Gedanken an den Tod seines Vaters und seine fortwährende spirituelle Präsenz wieder. Er überlegte, wie er eine so bedeutende Figur in seinem eigenen Leben am besten verewigen könnte. Diese Aufnahmen öffneten ihm sozusagen ein Portal, um Vergangenheit und Gegenwart miteinander zu verbinden und sie auf sensible und poetische Weise zu verweben.

Kölschs Vater war Musiker – “er tourte in den sechziger und siebziger Jahren, vor allem im Nahen Osten, auf dem Hippie Trail, spielte Gitarre und schrieb im Laufe der Jahre einige Songs”, erinnert sich Kölsch. “Aber alles in allem entschied er sich, sich auf die Familie zu konzentrieren, anstatt eine musikalische Karriere zu verfolgen.” Reilly spielte und schrieb jedoch im Laufe der Jahre weiterhin Musik, obwohl Kölsch das Material lange Zeit nicht angehört hatte: “Ich hatte nie den Mut, es anzuhören, weil ich mich einfach zu zerbrechlich fühlte, seine Stimme anzuhören. Es ist so schwer, das durchzustehen.”

Während der Pandemie hörte sich Kölsch jedoch durch das fragmentierte Werk, das sein Vater im Laufe der Jahre produziert hatte. “Ich beschloss, die Musik meines Vaters zwanzig Jahre nach seinem Tod endlich zu veröffentlichen”, reflektiert er. “Dieses ganze Album handelt von dem Verlustprozess, welcher für mich generell eine der Hauptantriebskräfte in meinem musikalischen Leben ist. Der ganze emotionale Aspekt von dem, was ich getan habe, basierte auf dem Gefühl, dass er nicht mehr da ist.”

Auf “I Talk To Water” sind Aufnahmen von Reilly in drei Songs zu hören. Seine Gitarren ziehen nachdenklich durch “Grape”, bieten einen üppigen Melodiefaden, den Kölsch mit klickenden, treibenden Rhythmen und dröhnendem, melancholischem Bass umwickelt. “Tell Me” ist ein schönes dreiminütiges Kunstlied, eine traurig-schöne Reflexion, minimal geschmückt mit sanften Tasten und einem gedämpften Puls. Und auf dem Abschlusstrack “It Ends Where It Began” lässt Kölsch die akustische Gitarre seines Vaters im Mittelpunkt stehen, ein überraschend folkiger Klagegesang, den Reilly ursprünglich 1996 aufgenommen hatte. “Er hat es tatsächlich für mein erstes Album aufgenommen, das nie veröffentlicht wurde”, enthüllt Kölsch, “und ich hatte es ewig liegen.”

Diese drei erdachten Kollaborationen zwischen Vater und Sohn sind ausgewogen und zart. Aber ihre Beziehung prägt auch die wunderschöne Musik, die Kölsch im Rest von “I Talk To Water” geschaffen hat, angefangen bei dem nervösen, aber üppigen “Pet Sound” (benannt als Hommage an eines von Reillys Lieblingsalben), den flimmernden Synthesizern und sehnsüchtigen Vocal-Samples in “Khenpo”, den ekstatischen Erschütterungen in “Only Get Better” oder den langsamen Schwenks und subtilen Enthüllungen in “Implant”.

Es gibt auch den Titelsong, in dem Kölsch von Gast Perry Farrell (Jane’s Addiction, Porno For Pyros) begleitet wird, der ein Mantra für die innere Reflexion singt: “I talk to water / Searching for myself / Looking for answers / Oceans of you.” Farrells Auftritt bringt eine weitere Klangfarbe, einen weiteren Geist in das Album, der gut zu seinem jüngsten Interesse an elektronischer Musik passt. “Er war völlig fasziniert von der Idee, mit Wasser zu sprechen”, sagt Kölsch und denkt darüber nach, wie wir kollektiv zur Natur als Trost, Zuhörer, Führer durch die Trauer neigen, um die Gelände des Herzens zu kartieren. Diese Kartierung ist etwas, in dem Kölsch im Laufe der Jahre erstaunlich geschickt war; Tanzmusik für Körper und Geist, sowohl für das Hier und Jetzt, als auch für das Leben danach.