quête:first fragment

In 2026, Vreid will release The Skies Turn Black, their first studio album in five years and a powerful statement from one of Norway's most enduring metal bands. The album marks a renewed creative chapter, shaped through a challenging but ultimately transformative process in which the band reconnected with the essence of their Sognametal roots while exploring new dimensions of their sound. Throughout the album's eleven tracks, Vreid merges fragments of their past with a revitalized artistic drive. The early breakthrough came with From These Woods, written during a late-night session in a remote mountain cabin. The song captured the emotional core of the album and helped steer the band back toward the heart of their identity. The title track The Skies Turn Black also holds a central place on the album. Written by bassist and songwriter Jarle Kvåle as a tribute to Ozzy Osbourne and the music that has shaped his life, the song carries a deeply personal foundation. Kvåle's experience attending Black Sabbath's farewell concert in Birmingham, after previously helping to organize the band's final Norwegian shows along with Ozzy's, left a profound mark and sparked the creative energy that shaped the song's weight and atmosphere.

Analog Fingerprints Vol. 0 is a compilation bringing together the early 2000s works of Marco Passarani under his Analog Fingerprints alias, collecting key tracks originally released on Rome’s Plasmek and Pigna labels.

For Numbers, the story starts long before the label itself. In their formative years, digging in Glasgow’s Rubadub, Passarani’s records felt like dispatches from a future city. Releases on his own Nature Records and on labels such as Generator and Interr-Ference Communications were mind blowing: rooted in Detroit techno, Chicago house and electro, yet pushing somewhere new. Much like fellow travellers Autechre, who would remix him in 2001, Passarani’s music balanced machine funk with restless experimentation.

Information was scarce, and you would hear these records first on the dancefloor or at listening stations in shops like Rubadub. Print fanzines like Ear and early web outposts such as Forcefield offered only fragments. But there was a palpable axis forming between Detroit techno and a new European wave of record labels including Skam, Rephlex, Clone, Viewlexx and Nature itself. It was the sound that defined Saturday nights at Rubadub’s ‘69’ parties in Paisley, just outside of Glasgow.

Passarani’s records, in particular, were instrumental in bringing together the future Numbers co-founders. Richard had already booked him pre-Numbers; meanwhile Calum (Spencer) and Jack (Jackmaster), then 16/17 year olds working alternate Saturdays in Rubadub, were so enamoured with the Roman sound that they travelled to Rome for the Bitz Festival in 2003 to seek out Passarani and Lory D at their source.

The first Analog Fingerprints release landed as a 12” on Plasmek in 2001, following the fractured, IDM-leaning 6 Katun material. For Passarani, the project marked a recalibration. A DJ first and foremost, he had moved into production via early computer setups, from a Commodore Amiga through primitive PC audio, Cubase and Logic, later experimenting with Ableton. The IDM scene had offered a playground for trial and error, but there was always a tension between abstraction and the dancefloor. Analog Fingerprints became the bridge: still intelligent, but with more dance than distance. After years of broken beats and complex arrangements, he wanted directness without surrendering identity.

Working closely with Francesco de Bellis and Mario Pierro in the Pigneto district, the trio formed Pigna as a vehicle for reclaiming a more accessible dance sound, deliberately steering away from the minimal wave beginning to dominate Europe. Sessions were fast, instinctive, often stretching late into the night with friends dropping by. It was a studio as social space, production as collective energy.

“In that constant search for balance, Analog Fingerprints was my way of expressing something closer to the classic dance floor. The track 'Tribute' - a tribute to my favourite early Detroit techno track of all time, 'First Bass' by Separate Minds - came after I realised I had almost lost my connection with the dance floor. The simplest step was to take inspiration from early Chicago and Detroit and twist it in our Roman ‘Pigna’ way. My goal was to create more accessible dancefloor tracks by mixing my unconscious Italo roots with my teenage love for that early US sound, ensuring the result was as far as possible from the minimal sound that was starting to dominate everywhere.” - Marco Passarani

Technically, the Analog Fingerprints tracks span a transitional era: Roland TR-909, SH-101 and Alpha Juno hardware met early software experiments. A Novation Drumstation rack stood in for the unattainable TR-808, syncing with TB-303 and TR-606. Yet the true secret weapon was Jeskola Buzz, a tracker-style modular environment that allowed step-by-step parameter control and strange melodic constructions, later exported into the audio sequencer. Even the lead on ‘Tribute’ came from an early PPG Wave-style plugin. It was hybrid thinking at a moment when digital tools still felt unstable but full of possibility for technologists like Passarani.

Behind the music sat Finalfrontier, a loose Roman collective orbiting Nature and Plasmek. Distribution and production were intertwined; importing obscure records into Italy built connections with like-minded outsiders across Europe and the US. Expensive phone bills and fax machines forged an “electronix network” that linked Rome to Clone, Viewlexx, Skam, Rephlex, Rubadub and Detroit’s Underground Resistance. There was a shared sense of survival and resistance, of operating against commercial systems.

Passarani recalls “The first time I found a sheet of paper inside an Underground Resistance 12” with info about upcoming releases... and a huge picture of Spock on the back. Imagine that: you love the music, you love Star Trek, and there’s someone on the other side of the ocean sharing those same values and sounds. It was the perfect match. We even gave our original company the suffix ‘Finalfrontier’: that says it all.”

Feedback in that era arrived physically: distributor faxes, conversations with visiting DJs, the experience of playing abroad and meeting kids who had connected with the records. Glasgow became a key node in a scattered outlier network. Passarani personally brought the first two Nature releases to Fat Cat in London, playing them in-store. Shortly after, a fax arrived from Rubadub in Glasgow requesting copies.

“I still remember that phone buzz and the fax paper slowly sliding out, with someone I didn’t know saying they wanted 75 copies of Nature 001. Or like the time we got a fax from the Rephlex crew just saying, “Hello Nature Records, Keep up the good work.” That was how we knew the message was getting through. It was a fantastic feeling; just one piece of thermal fax paper as an analog notification - the mood for the entire week would change.” - Passarani

The connection to Glasgow has since stretched across generations. As Passarani reflects, links often fracture as scenes renew themselves, but in Glasgow something different happened. New and old mixed seamlessly. There was a visible trust in what came before, and a willingness to carry it forward rather than discard it. Observed from Rome, it was deeply encouraging.

Analog Fingerprints Vol. 0 captures that moment of exchange: Rome to Glasgow, Detroit to Europe, experiment to dancefloor. It documents an artist recalibrating his sound and a network of scenes discovering one another in real time, connected by vinyl, faxes and shared intent.

The first resonant space Zosha Warpeha played in was the Emanuel Vigeland Museum in Oslo, Norway. Built as a mausoleum, its walls reach up into a gradual archway, creating an environment where sound expands and reverberates for twelve seconds before decaying into silence. Warpeha was greeted only by dim lights when she entered, and it wasn’t until she had spent several minutes listening that she was able to make out the frescoes that covered every inch of the room: graphic depictions of the cycle of life from conception through death. As the sound of her Hardanger d’amore encountered the walls and these slowly emerging scenes, they obscured its point of origin in both time and space, augmenting its own life cycle. The experience sat in the back of her mind over the next several years as she developed her own patient style of composition and performance, one that comes into full bloom on her new album I grow accustomed to the dark.

When Warpeha was selected as an artist in residence at Brooklyn’s ISSUE Project Room in 2025, she saw it as an opportunity to more intentionally explore how her music might fill a room with ample natural reverb. I grow accustomed to the dark documents two single-take solo performances for Hardanger d’amore and voice at IPR, with both pieces composed in a unique tuning system developed to interact with the space itself. Listeners can trace resonance from the contact of the bow on gut strings into the body of the instrument, its five sympathetic strings offering another layer of refraction, before the sound is thrown about the cavity of the room. The echoes emerge like a photographic double exposure, or wisps of smoke that linger in the air, creating ghostly harmonic convergences that blur the line between what is there and not-there. Sound begins to act like light, a synesthetic alchemy that transforms drones into beams and ornamental trills into flickers.

Both side-long compositions, “filament” and “visual purple,” exemplify a duality that animates Warpeha’s music: an expressive, individualistic style that draws on extensive knowledge of her instrument’s history in folk traditions, and an austere, devotional quality maintained by focus and precision. Though very different in character and structure, both pieces evolve slowly through numerous repetitive phrases, passages of stillness, and bursts of intensity. “filament” opens with a cycle of delicate melodic fragments played and sung around a drone before blossoming into an outpouring of swooping arpeggios, harmonics flying from the strings like sparks off a bonfire. The disorienting pulsation of harmonic beating forms the core of “visual purple,” the close-tone dissonance building to a swarm of open strings ringing boldly throughout the space. After the knotty tones reach their climax, the piece collapses into studied quietude, hushed, but without any drop in intensity.

When Warpeha first visited the Vigeland Museum in 2019, she was in Oslo to deepen her relationship to the Hardanger fiddle through the study of Norwegian traditional music, which is primarily passed down aurally. The experience of learning songs by ear, not only internalizing the tune but also absorbing the techniques and tonalities by listening, was a crucial step in her development as a composer. The years since have seen her sharpen those skills as a prolific member of the New York avant-garde and improvised music communities. Warpeha’s music encourages listeners to join her in this journey, to listen closely with each repeated phrase and through each dramatic shift. Like the frescoes on Vigeland’s walls, with time and intention, the depth of I grow accustomed to the dark comes on like a revelation.

‘What It’s Like to Be a Bat’ is the first album of producer and composer Finn Streuper. The record takes its title from a well-known philosophy paper on consciousness, exploring its ideas through sound. The fragmentary music opens up a delicate, weightless world of sound, combining jazz, electronic and library music.

From the depth of transient memories comes ‘Some Leaves Must Fall 聽其自然’, Temple Rat’s latest EP and the inaugural release for Martin Gilleshøj’s ‘Buttheads’ label.

Across 6 tracks Temple Rat distills fragments of spatial memory, merging conceptual ambience with the mystic, spatial, and driven edges of deep trance and hypnotic techno. A pensive and functional synthesis, one played out like an ode to the sustained.

Through 2024 while moving between Berlin and Sichuan, Temple Rat conceptualized and finished ‘Some Leaves Must Fall 聽其自然’. At its core, the work is an exploration of how the personal memory of cities and their particular acoustic environments can be transmuted in musical form. For these places, altered by the passing of time and the shifting of contexts, mirror the fluid and generative nature of sound itself.

Creatively this approach was borne out in a kind of archaeology of sound: by sampling and capturing auditory fragments Mei was able to preserve otherwise fleeting moments of experience. Sonics which not only embodied the emotions of the present but served too as a mechanism of recall, pulling memory back into focus even against the erasures of time.

In its method this project seeks to transform the sonic textures of urban and natural environments into high-energy dance tracks, exploring the tension between the certainty of space and the uncertainty of time. A tension operating not only within the structural logic of the sound itself, but so too as an affective experience, extending into the listener’s body and perceptual field.

For we are not the first to note that in a world of pervasive temptation and fragmented information, sustained listening has become rarified. Through this project, Temple Rat hopes to counter this tendency; to encourage a deeper mode of listening that restores attention, re-establishing our essential connection with the present.

All music is written, recorded, arranged, and produced by Temple Rat aka Yuxin Mei
Mastered by Giuseppe Tillieci at Enisslab
Distributed by One Eye Witness


Abdou El Omari was born in 1945 in Tafraout, south of Agadir -- a village suspended between the pink granite peaks of the Anti-Atlas and the waves of the Atlantic. A landscape already musical in itself. He grew up in the dry mountain light, surrounded by the rhythms of nature and Berber's culture. Very little is known about the man -- a veil of mystery still surrounds his life, only deepening the fascination. In the 1970s, as Morocco was transforming, Abdou El Omari shaped a sound of his own -- a visionary blend of spiritual jazz, psychedelic funk, Moroccan traditions, and early electronic experimentation. Today, his work is resurfacing, rediscovered by a new generation of listeners in search of lost horizons. This record stands among its rarest and most precious fragments. At twenty-two, he founded his first group, Les Fugitifs, which gained him local fame. Soon after, he released records and cassettes on labels such as Cléopâtre, Hassania, Boussiphone, Hilali, and his own, Al Awtar, while performing on RTM (national radio and television). He also composed for artists like Naima Samih, Laila Ghofran, and Aicha El Waad. In 1976, through the label Gam, he released his only vinyl album, Nuits d'été -- a record that would become cult decades later, reissued in 2017 by Radio Martiko. In the 1980s, his music grew quieter, more secret. He tried to recover his old tapes from the studios he had recorded in, but gradually withdrew from the scene and returned to hairdressing. A pioneer of musical fusion, he opened paths that would remain unexplored for years. He passed away in 2010, never witnessing the rediscovery of his music by diggers, bloggers, and collectors online. One day, his close friend and poet Aziz Essamadi, rescued a cardboard box from the trash -- a box containing Abdou El Omari's personal archives. It was later entrusted to Casablanca based collector Ahmed Khalil, founder of the label Dikraphone. Inside were treasures preserved by chance: demos, rehearsals, private recordings, unseen photographs -- and a stunning, almost forgotten cassette. Here, El Omari sounds bolder than ever, exploring territories where pop, cosmic disco, electric blues, and Moroccan tradition merge without boundaries. Armed with his ARP Odyssey synthesizer, hypnotic grooves, and the celestial layers of his Farfisa, he expanded the dialogue between deep roots and electronic exploration. This album is the continuation of a vision -- a music of the Moroccan future: rooted, but reaching for the unknown. Colorful, magnetic and timeless, here is music for dancing as much as for dreaming.

Swiss DJ and producer Audrey Danza returns with Next Stop, her first self-released vinyl EP on her own imprint, Proxima. The four-track release sharpens her sound into a direct, club-focused statement rooted in acid techno.

Each track is carefully engineered for the dancefloor. Driving acidic basslines and distinctive percussion interlock with warped, spacey textures to form forward-moving, high-pressure grooves. Processed vocal fragments punctuate the tracks, heightening tension and momentum. The EP moves through trippy, mental territory, balancing functional DJ tools with off-kilter details and strange sonic flourishes.

Built for movement and momentum, Next Stop works equally well in late-night warehouse settings and peak-time club moments.

Siren Selector presents the first voyage of Remy Solar, as the producer takes a break from composing sound system exclusive dubs to expand his horizons with this by-turns lush, textured, menacing and plaintive album.

‘Heavy Terrain’ emerges from the depths of a lifetime inside the dub fraternity: reared on a potent diet of Lee Scratch Perry and Augustus Pablo, The Disciples and Digital Mystikz, it’s an album which stuck its head in a bass bin in an abandoned bingo hall in north London before striking out on a musical road-trip to imbibe sounds and rhythms from further afield.

The album opens with the militant drums and ethereal pads of 'Sound in the East' before being bookended by two mixes of 'Star Trail', where unformed musical space and time cross uncharted distances to coalesce into the beginning of direction and rhythm. The lush deep house chords and drilling synths of 'Lila #3' summon ghostly presences, while in its counterpart 'Lila #7' layers of melody rise and hang like mist before dissipating in percussive heat. 'Dakhla's’ swelling and retreating drones fade into swirls of drums. In the eponymous 'Heavy Terrain', off-beat keyboard chops respond to each other from uncertain depths while electronic horns pulse across miles of open space. 'Empty City 'sees walls of sound coalesce and fragment, falling into bursts of white noise.

Remy Solar explores a deliberately constrained hardware set-up to create the primordial conditions of trance, locking down a rhythmic foundation while semi-improvised excursions form and reform above it. It’s an album that takes the listener on a journey between order and chaos, past and future, all the while underlaid by a counterpoint of cavernous bass lines and echoing percussion, yang and yin, shade and light.

Playedby021-1 is the starting point of Andrei Ciubuc’s Back 2 Back to the Future, unfolding over three vinyl chapters. Released as a double 12”, this first part lays the foundation of the journey: hypnotic rhythms, sharp grooves, and intricate sound design that highlight Andrei’s ability to balance dancefloor functionality with deeper narrative elements. Each track stands strong on its own, while also acting as a fragment of the larger story that continues in the next two volumes.

Intricate structures with an intertwining of spontaneity and randomness, meeting the diverse genre influences of the band members from mediaeval music to shoegaze to noise. That is Unravel, the new album, and first in six years, from Czech band Manon Meurt.
"Unravel reflects the different stages of dissociation, a person's thoughts, observations - whether of the environment or of oneself - and admiration for the beauty and cruelty that nature mirrors," multi-instrumentalist and lyricist Kateřina Elznicová says of the album.
Produced by Eddie Stevens (Freakpower, Zero 7, Moloko, Roisin Murphy) the album was pieced together from recorded fragments, meticulously pieced together. The title Unravel refers to the development of the band, unravelling what they are to find the full potential of their music as well as uncovering the layered nature of the songs and emotions.
"Eddie Stevens’ approach to recording was a big surprise. We understood that there was no one right version of the songs. Each of our themes carries a certain energy that can manifest and blossom in many ways. Compared to previous records, the vision of each member was much more evident, while we learned not to cling to our individual ideas of a signifying break or a nu-metal bounce at the end of an ambient song. The main thing was a common concept," adds keyboardist David Tichý on creating the seven songs on the record.
Abum producer Eddie Stevens describes the collaboration, “Each album is an adventure. You do some preparation, check the route over and over, prepare for any eventuality that your packing space and imagination will allow, plan some places to stop and rest en route, places to eat, sleep, then consider the challenges - the ice wall, the summit, even just finding your way in foreign land. But despite all that planning, you can never really say for sure what’s going to happen, what unexpected path you might take, what strangers might invite you in for a cup of tea and to what ends. So it was making Unravel with Manon Meurt and engineer and studio owner Lukas Martinek at Svárov studios and of course back home in the relative safety of my studio. Musicians who quickly became friends showed me more than I showed them, people with ideas, with creativity seeping from their pores. Music making the right way: no blinkers, no walls, no preconceptions, no barriers, no rules. What a pleasure, and what a magical, technicoloured,
kaleidoscopic album we’ve made together, “
The combination of industrial material with plant motifs in the work Untitled_1 by Ukrainian artist Liza Libenko, which adorns the cover of Unravel, strongly attracted the band. After all, floral motifs have always been close to Manon Meurt's music. Libenko, a student of the Academy of Fine Arts and a finalist of the prestigious Austrian Strabag Artaward International Prize, has recently been working on overcoming the narrative boundaries of the canvas, the paintings "attack"the viewer. Sunflowers are a powerful symbol of life and the sun; in Libenko's paintings they are black and burnt, serving as an allegory for contemporary conditions. The work was photographed by photographer and artist Marcel Rozhoň, and the final processing of the Unravel album was done by graphic artist Zuzana Malá.

For the first time, all the 1978 recording sessions of Lino Capra Vaccina's legendary Antico Adagio - including Frammenti da Antico Adagio and Echi Armonici da Antico Adagio - collected in one definitive deluxe edition. Minimalism, and so much more. Sheets of resonance, stunning harmonic interplay, intricate rhythms rising as one. Sidelong works of pulsing, hypnotic, ritualistic drone built from vibraphones, marimbas, gongs, bells, and cymbals, threaded by the sustained vocal tones of Juri Camisasca and Dana Matus. A trance-inducing, meditative, cosmic world of sonic interplay - the world beyond, joined with that which lays within.

Before an aberrant idea of progress ludicrously sped up our daily lives, even in hectic Milan it was possible to "play slowly" - with no pressure, simply following the path your art was showing you. This music moves between modal fascinations, ritual evocations, and states of hypnotic trance, evoking the acoustic environment of Tibetan and Zen Buddhist ceremonies and the temporal structures of Noh theatre, from which Vaccina took the name of his original label, Nō. Now, fittingly, this complete collection appears on Ubi Kū, the label of the Italian Buddhist Union.

Lino Vaccina (1953) first gained note as a member of Aktuala, creating a hybrid of rock, avant-garde, and ancient musics while incorporating sonic traditions from across the globe. After leaving in 1974, he studied at Milano's Civica Scuola di Musica, collaborating with Franco Battiato and Juri Camisasca, and forming Telaio Magnetico in 1975. In 1978 he self-released Antico Adagio in a tiny edition and wouldn't be heard from again until 1992. From 1979 to 1985 he was percussionist with the Orchestra of Teatro alla Scala under maestros such as Abbado and Ozawa. His career has been marked by an incredibly high bar of quality and a tragically slim recorded output - a rigorous and sensual language fusing Oriental, Mediterranean, and African influences with ritual elements and a cosmic sense of time.

As Massimo Torrigiani writes: "Lino Vaccina's music captivates through its internal coherence and its ability to generate states of suspension and deep listening - through undulations, small melodic fragments, dialogues between acoustic instruments and resonances that seem to evoke a phantom orchestra. An example of personal exploration, discipline and openness that speaks across time to anyone willing to be drawn into its sound."

Frammenti da Antico Adagio and Echi Armonici da Antico Adagio contain material from the original sessions, restored and issued by Die Schachtel in 2014 and 2017. The new masters, prepared by Giuseppe Ielasi, are based on those restorations and the original material. The package includes previously unpublished photographs from the May 1978 sessions and liner notes by Mauro Radice in Italian, English, and French. Cover art by Dana Matus. Printed by Legno, Milano & Mother Tongue, Verona.

Personnel: Lino Capra Vaccina (vibraphone, marimba, tablas, wooden drums, darbuka, cymbals, gong, metal sheets, bells, bass drum, tom, snare drum, piano, voice), Dana Matus (voice, percussion, cetra), Juri Camisasca (voice), Mario Garuti (violin), Roberto Mazza (oboe). Original production by Massimo Villa & Lino Vaccina with Piero Cannizzaro. Recorded May 1978 at Circle Studios, Milano.

The heights of the Italian avant-garde, at their very best.

Notti Senza Fine is the second album by the post-avant-garde theater company Magazzini Criminali, released in 1983 on the independent label Riviera Records and now reissued for the first time by Soave Records in a very limited edition of 200 copies. This work breaks away from linearity and meaning, creating a dizzying collision of voices and sounds that blend theater, punk, and experimental elements. Through montage and collage techniques inspired by the visual arts and poets such as Antonin Artaud, the album explores a dense and layered soundscape.

Composed by Federico Tiezzi, Sandro Lombardi, and Marion d'Amburgo, “Notti Senza Fine” uses sounds and fragments to create an experience that transcends conventional music. The song titles evoke geographical spaces without clear definition, while the sound textures, which include tribal percussion and synthesizers, intertwine without resolution. The album is a “meaningful object,” a musical vehicle that challenges conventions and rejects institutional distribution channels, remaining a rarity appreciated by collectors for over forty years.

The cover, designed by Mario Schifano, adds another layer of meaning to the work, making it a timeless sonic and visual experience.

Drumcomplex & Frank Sonic open their world once again, but this time they let others walk through the same shadows. The remixes of the Lost Echoes album feel like wandering through rooms you can only enter in your mind: quiet, flickering, suspended somewhere between a club night and introspective silence. These remixes are a quiet glance into four mirrors, each showing a different fragment of the same story. A subtle nod to those nights you feel more than you can ever describe.

includes unearthed fragments of Bladder Flask by Richard Rupenus, circa ’80s, The paths of Nurse With Wound and Bladder Flask first crossed in 1980 and the following year Bladder Flask’s debut album One Day I Was So Sad That The Corners Of My Mouth Met & Everybody Thought I Was Whistling (Orgel Fesper Music) was distributed by United Dairies. Following the aborted project for a second Bladder Flask album, scheduled for 1981, some forty years later, Richard Rupenus approached Steven Stapleton to use fragments of old recordings he’d unearthed from “Bladder Flask”, an invitation that Stapleton accepted, and rather than simply remixing or reworking existing Bladder Flask tracks, Steve Stapleton and Andrew Liles have succeeded in reinforcing Nurse With Wound and Bladder Flask’s sense of the absurd in this new opus “Backside”.

Killer Groove Records proudly presents the debut 45 by Italian cinematic funk trio Atabasca. A syncopated journey where funk, psychedelia, and cinematic groove merge into a timeless narrative suspended between rhythm and vision.


"Cacopoulos" and "Kundela Mawedi" mark the birth of Atabasca's sonic universe: the first two singles from the upcoming self-titled debut album,which will be released on March 27 in limited-edition LP, CD digipack, and digital formats.

On the A-side, "Cacopoulos" is an impetuous, visionary ride that fuses the power of instrumental groove with the evocative imagery of library music and Italian golden-age soundtracks. From the first beat, listeners are drawn into a dry, dusty landscape driven by a primal drum groove and the acid twang of a guitar that evokes the spirit of classic Westerns. Indeed, "Cacopoulos" pays homage to I Quattro dell'Ave Maria (Ace High) and to the legendary Eli Wallach, the sly outlaw who turns deception into revenge, a subtle yet powerful nod that ties the trio's sound to imagery steeped in dust, dreams, and redemption.


On the flip side, the sound of an old lap steel guitar evokes the gentle waves of the sea, opening the doors to "Kundela Mawedi", a dreamy track with exotic tones and heavenly atmospheres. The sonic journey unfolds through hypnotic rhythms and echoes of ancient cultures, where ethereal voices and warm, entrancing bass lines intertwine with psychedelic riffs and evocative guitar melodies, merging into a soundscape rich in warmth and mystery. The chorus, with its unexpected choral chant, adds a spark of magic. An elegant twist that gently stirs the dreamlike mood and transports the listener into a new sonic dimension, steeped in mysticism and tribal vibrations. "Kundela Mawedi" is more than just a song: it's a sensory experience, a musical ritual where tradition meets psychedelia, sand meets sea, and the soul dances upon the waves of time.


Recorded in a single take, the session captures the raw energy and natural atmosphere of the performance. Artistic production was handled by the trio alongside Andrea Fabrizii (digger, musician, producer, and catalogue curator for CAM Sugar), while Riccardo Ricci mastered the tracks at Velvet Room Mastering Studio in Brighton.


A killer double-sider, blending psychedelic and funk moods with percussive, jazzy textures. A must-have gem for every groove-loving DJ.


Like a desert blooming within the evergreen forests of the planet's far north, a unique, alien, disruptive environment: this is the vision behind Atabasca, the project of Luca Mongia (guitars, lap steel, keyboards, vocals), Paolo Mazziotti (bass, keyboards, vocals), and Valerio Pompei (drums, percussion, vocals). Individually active for over twenty years on both national and international scenes, the three musicians came together in 2023 to create a project that merges experience, experimentation, and creative freedom. Their music is imaginative and at times dreamlike, blending the classic concept of the instrumental trio with the worlds of film scoring and sound design.


Atabasca's sound moves through jazz-funk, world, and cinematic territories, weaving together afrobeat, desert, and psychedelic influences into a personal and timeless language. Each piece is a scene; each sound, a fragment of a world, a journey between reality and imagination where groove, texture, and organic timbre merge into a singular sonic ecosystem: a perpetually shifting balance that generates new inner landscapes.


Fans of Khruangbin, Surprise Chef, and instrumental psych-funk, take note!

Berlin-based composer and vocalist FRANKIE, also known as Franziska Aigner, and Dominican-American producer Kelman Duran meet at the Twelve Apostles Church, in the Berlin district of Schöneberg, sometime in 2022, at the beginning of the spring season. They were each asked to engage the space’s solemnity, and its reverence, through distinct performances. Their chance encounter, abounding with mutual curiosity towards each other’s practices, smoothened the path for a years-long collaboration, culminating in McArthur, their first joint album. Following a period of exchanging musical fragments and prompts at a distance, Aigner and Duran come together in Athens, and later in Los Angeles, to prepare the stuff and material for the album, slowly developing a body of work informed by shared hauntings, and a commitment towards the disjointed and the residual. Aigner describes her process as writing “into the negative space” of Duran’s beats—filling in, if not invigorating, their thudding and inflections, but without rearranging the integrity of the whole. The result is an album where time and geography are made elastic, and where sonic improvisations become a site for quiet, and cryptic, articulations of intimacy.

Whitelands' second album Sunlight Echoes builds on their elemental debut - that won them fans from Slowdive to David Jonsson - with a more expansive sound that takes them out of the shoegaze shadows to somewhere bigger, better and brighter. Produced by long-time collaborator Ian Flynn and mixed by double Grammy Award-winner Eduardo De La Paz (New Order, The Horrors, The Charlatans, The KVB, Drug Store Romeos), there are soaring string arrangements (by Iskra Strings) and Lush guest vocals from labelmate Emma Anderson. "We're coming back with a lot more maturity and realness," says singer and guitarist Etienne Quartey-Papafio of their step up. "It shows in how much more emotional our music has become." With maturity comes a newfound confidence, so not only are there stunning melodies everywhere, but Etienne's vocals are front and centre throughout. "It's been really cool to watch Etienne push through boundaries," adds bassist Vanessa Govinden. "I like the direction we've taken on this album. We're taking a risk. It's half and half." She's right - the first half of the album has an almost Britpop breeziness, that belies the serious subject matter that inspired the songs, while the second half gets heavier, in all senses, with added grit and gravitas."This album is one of enduring," says Etienne of the overarching theme. "We had family that were dying, I was broke, there was a shortage of my ADHD medication_ I was suffering, but not just me, everyone around me was too." "The last two years have been challenging," concludes Vanessa. "The universe really fucked with us. That's why there are themes of loss, disconnection, fragmentation and yearning, but on the other side there is also unity and hope." Sunlight Echoes is a poetic, melodic statement of intent from this formidable band. Whitelands have fought back and triumphed in the face of adversity.

Waiting is the essence of travel. Patience is its own reward.

Two people. A Telecaster guitar with a few effect pedals. A drum machine. An audio interface is connected to a laptop. The ingredients are simple yet effective.

But any suggestion of four-track cassette machines and vintage bedsit productions is quickly dispelled by digital dubbiness and refined arrangements. A tail of reversed echos. The crystalline flourish of octave-pitched delays. Riddled hi-hats tickle and taunt. A bass drum asserts its space.

Winkler's guitar patterns have a fragmented, almost haphazard connotation. Searching in a shimmer of reverb. Until the beat, the framework, sets in to reveal structure. Intentionality. Reihse's programmed rhythms go just to the point of a groove, holding the moment of tension, knowingly delaying the gratification. Beats that have scratchy patina anda subtly playful edge; their crispness stands in contrast to the contemplative drift of the guitar. Is it a trance? Or a dance? Yes.

There are some apparent references here: a good portion of Les Disques du Crépuscule, some kraut-esque electronica, even a smidgen of Morricone / Spaghetti Western, blending into a kind of Musique Noir – yet these serve as a set of orientational coordinates, rather than quotations.

This is so far the most assured release by Periode, perhaps eschewing some of the naiveté that was wilfully cultivated in earlier output – there is no cheeky cover version this time. And no singing either. The nine pieces have the quality of a series, a variation on a mood, or a subset of moods. What emerges is an inviting swagger in the face of bleakness. There is a profound melancholy, but it is not the darker kind, and does not exclude humour.

First impressions may suggest that this is purely nocturnal music. Yet it equally evokes the harsh sunlight and baking summer heat. Or a rainy day. And transportation: the music suggests the motion of travel, even if that travel only happens within the mind. And waiting. Waiting while doing nothing much. Because that's all you can do. (Alexander Paulick)

The incredible story that began with The Most Mysterious Song on the Internet (TMMS) now enters an exciting new chapter: Skyscraper, the debut album by FEX.

Skyscraper features ten original tracks recorded in the early to mid-1980s-carefully re-transferred, remastered, and brought back to life. The album cover, designed by Darius S., brings the story full circle. Darius is the very person who preserved the now-iconic track Subways of Your Mind by recording it from NDR radio in the mid-80s. Without him, FEX may never have been discovered.

FEX's debut opens with its namesake, Skyscraper-a brooding, previously unreleased track the band once described as part of their "psychedelic phase." With haunting synth-helicopter textures and deep guitar riffs, it immediately sets the tone and raises tension.

The release flows naturally into the energetic and fully remastered studio version of Subways of Your Mind. This version of the TMMS - re-discovered on the "yellow label tape" by Reddit user Marijn-was long believed to be from a smaller home studio, but was actually recorded in November 1984 at Hawkeye Studios in Ganderkesee, near Hamburg.

Goldrush, first teased in raw form on FEX's YouTube channel, bends toward mechanical rhythm and shimmering synths, a snapshot of the band's experiments with programmed drum machine sound. Rückwardt's lyrics point to greed and criticizes materialism, and while the music leans toward pop sensibilities, it carries a raw, fractured edge.

Heart in Danger and I've Got My Eyes On You offer contrasting experiences-one rooted in classic post-punk tension, the other floating in melodic synth layers. The latter in particular feels like a fragment from a parallel radio history: a precise and one of a kind synth pop love song with a progressive touch.

From a rehearsal tape comes Dirty Slapstick, its urgency intact. Missing keyboard parts were later reconstructed by Michael Hädrich using his original DX7 synthesizer-recovering lost elements without rewriting the past. The lyrics take a wry look at forced optimism. Also included are the songs Talking Hands, Jenny and Strange Feeling, the latter being a slower blues-tinged cut, revealing yet another facet of the band's reach and Rückwardt's songwriting diversity.

The album closes where the legend began-with the original radio recording of Subways of Your Mind from Darius' cassette. This version of The Most Mysterious Song features alternate vocal effects, contributing to the track's enigmatic aura. Digitally transferred using a high-end Revox machine and carefully remastered, it now has its long-deserved official release.

The cover features a photo of the Eichenberg Bunker in Kiel-one of FEX's original rehearsal spaces and a symbolic monument to their sonic legacy.

‘Pilot’ is the debut album from London quintet Miniseries. Channelling the epic sweep of TV themes and movie soundtracks into resplendent space rock they explore themes of youth and ageing, heartbreak and paranoia, euphoria and existential dread.

Songwriter Doug Morch (Longview) had been working on largely acoustic folk songs when he met Angela Gannon (The Magic Numbers) at Glastonbury 2017. Romance and musical collaboration ensued. The band coalesced in the hallowed environs of Farringdon's The Betsey Trotwood pub – a musical nexus where burgeoning indie and Americana scenes collide – where they met fellow songwriter and guitarist Dermot Watson (from Brighton's The Dials) and drummer Danny Abbasi and were joined by Doug's former bandmate Aidan Banks on bass. When they came together, their indie folk mutated into motorik art rock, with their first single being an eight-minute jam called "Road".

When it came to capturing their sound, the band reached for maverick musician and producer Sean Read. They recorded tracks at Read's Famous Times studio in Clapton, London, as well as at Edwyn Collins' Clashnarrow in Helmsdale, Scotland – one of the world's most breathtaking and idiosyncratic studio locations, adding unquantifiable magic to the proceedings.

For the closing track "May You Always", they headed to another studio imbued with tangible inspiration: Blueprint Studio in Salford with producer Craig Potter (Elbow) at the helm. For the song, Dermot drew cinematic inspiration from the Withnail & I line "I'll never play The Dane", the song is about realising that the things you aspired to in youth will never come to pass and being at peace with that realisation.

The recurring themes of youth and ageing are apparent in the resplendent lead track ‘You're Gold’ – a heartfelt call for young people to reject materialism and exploitative influencer culture in search of life's deeper meaning, with stylistic nods to The Pixies and early Stereolab.

On the opposite end of the spectrum, "Sepia" explores old age and fading memories through dementia, where the ending descends into chaos like a fragmenting mind. Elements of "Sepia" are foreshadowed in the album's opening track, the instrumental "Pilot Theme", which pays homage to TV theme music, invoking spy thrillers or perhaps something otherworldly from science fiction.

“Offcumdens” is a Calder Valley, Yorkshire term for people who live in the area but come from somewhere else. Hailing from Bury, Lancashire, Morch wrote the song while living in Hebden Bridge (and watching too much Happy Valley) and found himself being an offcumden. It’s a pop at the kind of local nativism which breeds intolerance and an illustration of the sinister rise of wider political populism.

Miniseries' Pilot is just the beginning of the story. Enthralling and atmospheric, the London quintet have created something familiar yet timeless. As singer Doug Morch says, "It's the Miniseries Pilot episode. Like the TV episode a studio makes to test whether it's viable.” In the age of streaming and box-sets, this is an album to truly binge on. We can’t wait to hear what happens next.