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Cristi Cons makes his Crosstown Rebels debut with his latest EP, ‘Give Me Love’.

The three-track exploration of rhythm, tension, and hypnotic club craft lands on 16th January 2026.
Damian Lazarus’ Crosstown Rebels imprint opens its 2026 release schedule with a special label debut from Romanian favourite Cristi Cons, as he delivers a magnetic three-tracker in the form of his ‘Give Me Love’ EP. Known for his precise, minimal-infl ected approach and unwavering command of groove, Cristi’s arrival onto the label brings a release that distils his signature tension-and-release architecture into some of its most direct club form yet.

The title track, ‘Give Me Love’, unfolds with subtle vocal refrains, shadowy atmospheres, and a rolling, elastic groove built for late-night momentum. On the B-side, ‘Can You Hear Me’ channels a sleeker, more hypnotic pulse, with dubby textures, restrained bass pressure, hooky vocals, and a snaking groove to keep dancers moving. Closing the EP, ‘You Ain’t Got Nothin’ brings vibrant synths, tight drum programming, and more captivating vocal use into a head-down trip that leans into Cons’s innate ability to craft late-night and early-hours journeys.

A longstanding architect of Romania’s influential underground, Cristi Cons has carved a reputation through his solo work, his collaborative SIT project with Vlad Caia, and their shared imprint, Amphia, which now stands as a true force within the minimal landscape. Alongside regular appearances across Europe’s key institutions and collaborations with revered names, including Raresh as part of their Verico project along with Caia, Cristi continues to evolve with each release - and ‘Give Me Love’ delivers yet another side to his diverse sound as he steps into the Crosstown Rebels fold to open the year.

Few producers have had the same seismic impact on techno and rave music as Joey Beltram. Hailing from Queens, New York, Beltram was a key architect of the early '90s rave explosion and responsible for some of the most influential electronic records of the era - and it was Belgium’s R&S Records that gave many of these tracks their first home.

Originally compiled and released by R&S in 1996, Classics brings together the core of Beltram’s groundbreaking early output - namely the Beltram Vol. 1 (1990) and Beltram Vol. 2 (1991) EPs, alongside the legendary Second Phase productions ‘Mentasm’ and ‘Mind To Mind’ (1991), plus a selection of aliases and collaborative work from the same period, including tracks under Mental Mayhem, Open Mind, and Disorder.

Now remastered and reissued as a 2LP set for 2025, Classics is available on vinyl for the first time since 2006, offering a long overdue opportunity to own these timeless cuts in their purest form. Across the 13 tracks, you'll hear the sheer force and innovation that made Beltram a household name in underground techno.

Integral to this collection are ‘Jazz 303’ and ‘Psycho Bass,’ co-produced with Norwegian techno innovator Per Martinsen (aka The Alien), which stand out for their experimental, forward-facing sound - highlighting a futuristic edge even within Beltram’s already pioneering catalogue. Elsewhere, his Second Phase project with Mundo Muzique delivers the seminal ‘Mentasm’ and ‘Mind To Mind,’ two foundational tracks that introduced the infamous “hoover” sound to dancefloors worldwide. Rounding out the set are deeper cuts under his aliases Mental Mayhem, Disorder, and Open Mind, capturing the breadth of Beltram’s restless creativity and technical command during his peak R&S years.
Classics’ by Joey Beltram is available on R&S Records from 25th July 2025.

For over six decades, Charlemagne Palestine (b. 1947, New York) has been a pioneering composer, performer, and multimedia artist, celebrated for his ecstatic sonic explorations and ritualistic, metaphysical performances. Emerging from the cross-disciplinary New York art scene of the 1960s and ’70s, he helped shape a heretical edge of minimalism alongside figures like Conrad, Riley, Niblock, and Glass. Trained as a Jewish cantor and later as the carillonneur at St. Thomas Church, Palestine cultivated a deep fascination with resonance and overtone—an obsession that evolved through his use of percussion, early synthesizers, and monumental piano works, influencing artists from John Cale to Nick Cave.

Animated by a spirit of ecstatic play and what he calls his »meschugge« (Yiddish for »crazy«) sensibility, Palestine’s universe blends the sacred and the absurd, filled with soft toys, ritual gestures, and immersive sound environments. Rejecting the »minimalist« label in favor of a maximalist, »spontanimalist« approach, he creates long-form, resonant performances that transform spaces into vibrating, living organisms—opening portals into the nature of time, sound, and devotion.

In the same vein, the aptly titled live record »The Organ is the World’s Greatest Synthesizer« – performed during the Sonic Acts Festival at Amsterdam’s Oude Kerk in 2025, and taking its title and cover art from a drawing realized by Palestine himself during the concert – adds to his opaque yet vibrant personal mythology and intimate transcendence, marking a return to the Staalplaat catalog after »Fffroggssichorddd« (2020) and »Music for Big Ears« (2001).

Beginning with a resonating bell and his falsetto overtone singing, then surrendering to the endless, wild soundscapes of tone-feeling and beat frequencies generated by the church’s organ, across 40+ minutes, single sound sources evolve into clusters, entangle fully with one another, and establish their own spatial existence and aural architectures. We witness the traces of something that can be described as a perpetual performance, a test for the ever-changing interaction between artist, instrument, space and, ultimately, us.

Since Palestine has always defined his execution as a form of anti-composition - of simply »being in the music« as if inhabiting a space - the true power of »The Organ is the World’s Greatest Synthesizer« lies in encapsulating a moment of Palestine’s practice in its most authentic, live dimension. Sound becomes at once subtle substance and strange telluric force, animating physical forms from some unknown channel beyond and within, accessible only through our sensorium. The point in this liminal temple of tone, timbre and frequency is not to learn anything but to simply enter. Palestine earns once again his self-given title of contemporary shaman by keeping this sonic portal open, allowing us to witness and make it last.

»I have always felt and heard and mixed the sounds in my world as liquids not as solids. Sonic liquids are material that is endlessly transformable. But I’m not crazy about people who go around defining stuff.«

Rochelle Jordan is proudly stepping into her diva era. To those in the know, the Los Angeles-based British-Canadian singer and songwriter has long been an underground force coaxing together the mutually flirtatious scenes of daring alt-R&B and heart-pumping electronic music. With her longtime creative director/producer KLSH, she’s cultivated a singular marriage of sound — mixing soulful sensuality, house bump, DnB wildness, hip-hop swagger, and pure experimentalism — that’s spread not only through certain circles, but also to the mainstream. At the same time that her gauzy 2014 single “Lowkey” was going viral in 2023 — racking up 21 million streams on Spotify alone — she was in the studio cooking with tastemaking beatsmiths like KAYTRANADA and Sango, quietly preparing to melt dance floors and headphones alike.

Now, as the timelines merge, Jordan is approaching success with the sparkle of a brand new star and the stance of someone who’s earned everything she has. Her new musical chapter aims to carry forward the magic that fans feel in her coquettish vocals and bold soundscapes even as she reaches deeper into her pop bag. The fact that her first single of 2025, the darkly dazzling “Crave,” was produced by Chicago house legend Terry Hunter (Janet Jackson, Mariah Carey, Beyoncé) speaks volumes to this exact moment in Jordan’s ascendent trajectory.

“My goal when I first started making music was to bring back something that I felt had started to fade away for me,” says Jordan. “That certain essence or sound that would give me butterflies in my stomach when I’d listen to music — it would unleash some kind of chemical that would make me feel happy and excitable and curious, something that would make my soul shine. My number one goal is always: How do I give people that feeling when they listen to my music?”

Jordan grew up in Toronto raised by British-Jamaican parents. She remembers hearing one of her older brothers cycling through a variety of music at maximum volume in the room next to hers. “Reggae to soul to drum and bass to garage music to gospel,” Jordan recalls. “It was all intertwining for me at such a young age.” She developed her own sound quietly, and soon met KLSH through MySpace. They traded multiple songs back and forth daily until he flew her out to L.A. to record what would become her debut project, 2011’s R O J O. That collaboration hasn’t faltered since, resulting in sonically surprising, subtly infectious sets like Jordan’s breakthrough 2014 album 1021 (with “Lowkey”) and 2021’s dance-steeped revelation, Play with the Changes.

“If you’re talking about Rochelle Jordan, you’re talking about KLSH,” she says. “It’s one and the same. We come from the same inspiration source.” With him at her side to this day, Jordan is crafting new listening experiences as radiant as refracted light glimmering through a prism — an incredible space from within which to explore love in all its iterations — from romantic infatuation to self-affirmation, and strength in womanhood to pride for what she’s accomplished thus far.

More than a decade into her career, Jordan has arrived at a new stage of life and creativity — she’s a seasoned professional, a fully realized woman, and she’s excited to continue growing. “I know my story isn’t necessarily a new one,” she says. “I look at 2 Chainz, who became 2 Chainz way later on in his life. I look at Tina Turner, who became Tina Turner at 40. I want to be another story of resilience for people.” As she prepares to unveil more of her vision, and fans clamber for a long-awaited fourth album, Rochelle Jordan is casting aside self-doubt, and appreciating and underlining her status as a verifiably influential reigning diva in her one-of-one sonic space.

Replicant Memories is the seismic fallout from the clash between bvdub and East of Oceans: two of Brock Van Wey's three aliases representing different stylistic directions, while being vessels for the same unbridled oceanic creativity.

Within the four chapters of this epic, the bottomless emotion of bvdub melts into the euphoria of East of Oceans, electricity discharging and mists rising from their collision while they together reach new heights of intensity.

This music changes you. Like being exposed to forces of nature, there is no holding back and no place to hide within its wild embrace. It is music for surrendering into. And be left in gratitude for.

The song titles on Van Halen's aptly titled Fair Warning don't lie. The likes of "Unchained," "Mean Street," "Push Comes to Shove," "One Foot Out the Door," and more indicate the mood the band channels on its double-platinum 1981 record — the nastiest, darkest, and fiercest album of the group's storied career. For the fourth time in four years, Van Halen throws down the gauntlet to all challengers and emerges victorious.


Sourced from the original analog tapes, pressed on MoFi SuperVinyl at Fidelity Record Pressing, and strictly limited to 5,000 numbered copies, Mobile Fidelity's UltraDisc One-Step 180g 45RPM 2LP set plays with unfettered clarity, dynamics, and immediacy. Benefitting from superb groove definition, an ultra-low noise floor, and dead-quiet surfaces, this vinyl edition captures what went down in the studio with tremendous realism and involving presence.

Taking a more controlled approach in the studio and still completing everything in less than two weeks, Van Halen and producer Ted Templeman relied on studio amplifiers to direct the sound. Further diverging from the live-on-the-floor approach of its earlier albums, the ensemble also employed overdubs to great effect. The result: Dense, stacked architecture that underlines the hard-hitting tenor of the songs — and which comes alive like never before on this reference edition that looks as good as it sounds.

The premium packaging and gorgeous presentation befit the reissue's select status. Housed in a deluxe slipcase, it features special foil-stamped jackets and faithful-to-the-original graphics that illuminate the splendor of the recording. Aurally and visually, it is made for listeners who want to immerse themselves in everything involved with the album, including the iconic cover art adopted from William Kurelek's haunting painting, "The Maze."

Isolated frames from Kurelek's childhood-inspired work — including a man bashing his head into a brick wall, a guy pinning down an adversary as he delivers bare-fist blows to his face and others watch with apparent glee, a boy tied down on a conveyer belt and being sent through the equivalent of a meat saw — adorn the front and back covers. The sunnier visual disposition of Van Halen's prior efforts gives way to something sinister and tortured, traits reflective of the music within. The band members, too, are visually depicted not in glamorous shots but in a serious black-and-white portrait in which the quartet is clad in black leather jackets.

Tough, aggressive, stark: Fair Warning comes on like a series of bare-knuckled punches to the solar plexus and boasts lyrical narratives to match. Though not a concept record, the concise album revolves around themes of roughing it on the streets and struggling to survive amid dim prospects. Singer David Lee Roth reportedly penned many of the initial lyrics after traveling to Haiti and observing extreme poverty. The characters and situations populating Fair Warning reflect hardscrabble existence, last-chance desperation, and underlying danger.

Witness the crazies, poor folks, and hunters of “Mean Street”; the former prom queen turned pornographic actress on “Dirty Movies”; the menace and vice of “Sinners Swing!”; the streetwise hustle of “Unchained”; the isolation and alienation of “Push Comes to Shove”; the desire for escape on “One Foot Out the Door”: A carefree California beach party Fair Warning is not.

Having said he felt angry and frustrated during the sessions, guitarist Eddie Van Halen uses the forceful arrangements as a playground for his seemingly unlimited arsenal. Supported by a crack rhythm section and a hyped-up Roth, he performs with an almost impossible combination of punk-like intensity, technical finesse, lyrical fluidity, and unbridled emotion. The virtuoso was increasingly butting heads with Templeton and seeking a freedom in the studio he believed denied him.

No wonder he plays like a bat out of hell. Listen to the rapid-fire manner in which he slaps the high and low E strings on the 12th fret of his instrument on “Mean Street,” instilling the tune with funk flair and metal-spiked sharpness. For the pouty strut of “Dirty Movies,” Eddie Van Halen contributes slide guitar magic made possible after he sawed off the lower portion of a Gibson SG so he could reach further down the fretboard.

Related intensity, urgency, and daredevil momentum punctuate the surging “Sinner’s Swing!” A heavily flanged, delicately melodic introduction frames the attitudinal “Hear About It Later,” among the most creative arrangements of Van Halen’s career. And do riffs come any bigger or magnetic than those on the high-wire kick of “Unchained”? As for the out-of-left-field “Sunday in the Park,” an instrumental composed on an Electro-Harmonix micro-synthesizer: Who but Eddie Van Halen to supply creep factor in such an ingenious way?

Despite selling fewer quantities than Van Halen’s prior efforts, Fair Warning remains for many diehards the record that epitomizes all of the band’s immense strengths —Roth’s manic energy and tongue-wagging humor, Alex Van Halen’s rhythmic heartbeat-in-your-chest bombast, and Michael Anthony’s lucid bass lines included. Arriving when the New Wave of British Heavy Metal and new-wave movements were taking flight, it signaled a shot across the bow from a band determined to stay a step ahead and provide proof nobody could touch what it delivered.

More than four decades later, Fair Warning still sounds that alarm.

An earth-moving night in Chicago, 30 crazy years ago, caught HOT on tape and finally unleashed! Teengenerate were a force to be reckoned with in the ‘90s garage punk underground and with their string of classic singles and LPs, the Midwest was just STARVED for these heathens to break our minds wide open. And they did, and some of us were just “never the same.” Is this how Hozac started? YES, this was THE SEED. Just an awe-inspiring brute force of punk purity, slashing through incredible covers of THE KIDS, PAGANS, and FUN THINGS and sowing the seeds of obscure punk obsessions to no end with their savage treasure map of sick sounds.

The heat, the power, the rage and the euphoria, it just doesn’t always align like it did when Fink & Fifi took the stage. Sure enough, it was on THIS DAY 30 years ago that our minds were blown apart and our eyes were opened and a life-changing rock’n roll performance that commemorates the 50th release on the Hozac Archival subsidiary. Secretly recorded by Ken White, the Brides’ right hand man, and mastered by TIM WARREN of Crypt Records for maximum authenticity, Live at the Empty Bottle just explodes out of the grooves and will level anyone within earshot, just like it did when Teengenerate desecrated Chicago TWICE on the same night (check out their VML Live at the Fireside Bowl 7″ too!), exactly 30 years ago TODAY!

With The Whole Story, their debut album released in 2024, Astral Bakers laid the foundations for a hushed soft-grunge, somewhere between misty folk and weightless rock. Vertical Life marks a turning point: a band that, after discovering itself, has now established itself as a tight-knit collective, with each member shaping its sonic identity with equal force. Recorded in the USA with Sam Evian (Big Thief, Blonde Redhead...), the album captures the freedom and raw energy of the quartet. There"s no over-recording or over-production here: the moment takes precedence, mistakes become texture, and slight imperfections a signature. Vertical Life is a choral album, a constant dialogue between the four musicians - Ambroise, Theodora, Nico and Zoé - where each now finds a more assertive place in this shifting puzzle, where voices cross and roles interchange. Textured guitars, sometimes silky, sometimes abrasive, criss- cross and overlap like wisps of delicate fuzz. Theodora"s bass anchors the tracks in a cinematic languor, while Zoé"s supple, restrained drumming builds a nocturnal, almost vaporous groove. The vocals, both fragile and assertive, are always balanced between whisper and soar, between indie introspection and grunge energy. A record where verticality is not just an upward movement, but a vertigo, a tension between rootedness and escape.

**Includes double sided insert with liner notes and photos*

Al Mati was the pseudonym of eccentric Portuguese-born, Dutch-based artist Alberto Mesquita. The name translates to ‘Alberto Friend’, with ‘Al’ short for Alberto and ‘Mati’ meaning ‘friend’ in Surinamese.
Alberto’s story comes across like a mythical character from a European Kerouac novel, but instead of writing it down, he poured those adventures and characters into his record. The music and the comic-style artwork, drawn by his friend Bruno Scoriels, work as one, with Alberto himself becoming both the story and the character within it.

Raised under Salazar’s regime in Lisbon, where all men were conscripted to Africa, he refused, a pacifist. This put him at odds with his father, born in Angola and a prominent lawyer tied to the dictatorship. Unable to accept his son’s stance, the rift forced Alberto to flee Portugal as a deserter, leaving everything behind.

He sought a new life in Paris, where he met Bruno Scoriels. The pair busked to get by, and young and broke, set off on adventures across Europe. On one trip to Barcelona, they crossed the Pyrenees on foot through a five-kilometre train tunnel, not knowing if they would make it out alive. The train later featured on the cover of Some Shit, a nod to that hazardous journey and the strange turns of his life.

From there he moved to Belgium, where he met Jolanda, his future wife who also features on the album. They lived in The Netherlands, then back in Belgium where they married, before returning to Portugal under false pretences. The regime promised deserters immunity, but it proved untrue, and Alberto was forced to flee again — this time with a young family, using Bruno’s passport to escape to The Netherlands.

They settled in the Gliphoeve flats in Amsterdam’s Bijlmermeer, a vibrant immigrant community. This melting pot of cultures inspired Alberto musically. He started a studio in their flat where musicians from Suriname, Angola, the Antilles, Brazil, Mozambique and Portugal came and went, jamming, rehearsing, recording and forming bands including Albatros, Comoção and Mati Africa, performing internationally and at iconic Amsterdam venues like De Melkweg and Paradiso.

Being an immigrant was tough. Alberto was stateless for years, drifting across countries. Some songs voiced his frustration with the Portuguese regime, others were playful or simply love notes to his wife and kids. He passed away in the Netherlands in 2021, leaving Some Shit open to interpretation. But when you picture Europe in the 1970s — the politics, the upheaval, and his need to connect people across cultures — you can hear an artist shaped by contrast, who poured his experiences, feelings and love into music.

Acclaimed Scottish composer Craig Armstrong releases his new work Pacific via his own label CMA Records. Written for piano, cello, and electronics, the three-movement piece was originally commissioned in December 2024 by Christian Kellersman, a pioneering figure in contemporary classical and jazz music, for his new live event series Berlin Confidential, co-curated with Alexander Szlovák. The series aims to promote innovative new music projects, with a particular focus on emerging musicians and composers.

Armstrong was among the first artists invited to perform as part of Berlin Confidential, premiering Pacific at Berlin’s historic Meistersaal concert hall in March 2025. The concert featured Armstrong on piano alongside cellist Lena Angelina von Almen and producer and musician Guy Sternberg, combining acoustic instruments with live electro-acoustic treatments to create a rich and atmospheric sound world.

Recorded in May 2025 at Lowswing Studios in Kreuzberg, Pacific continues Armstrong’s ongoing exploration of blending acoustic and electronic sound in a natural, seamless way. Over several days in the studio, Armstrong, von Almen and Sternberg developed the work’s intricate textures and dynamic interplay, resulting in a recording that captures both the intimacy and expansiveness of the original live performance.

Speaking about the inspiration behind the piece, Armstrong says: “I wrote this work during a time of great instability in the world, I wrote “Pacific” as an Elegy dedicated to the many suffering in today’s conflicts and in the hope that peace will prevail.”

Across its three movements, Pacific 1 is elegiac in nature, with the main themes stated and developed throughout the piece, punctuated by recurring piano motifs. The movement is reflective and atmospheric, with subtle electronic interventions. The second movement is arrhythmic in nature, following shifting time signatures that reflect a sense of uncertainty - the music is searching and static, ending without resolution but leaving hope for one to come. Pacific 3 moves towards peace and resolution, bringing the work to a close with quiet strength and emotional release.

When speaking about the creative process and his collaborators, Armstrong said: “Lena’s beautiful playing , tone and expression worked so beautifully on Pacific, Lena was also a great collaborator and was always willing to experiment and try new musical approaches. Lena is such a natural musician and she brought so much emotion and beauty to the piece. I wish her all the best in her future musical journey.”

He continues: Guy is a unique combination of being a brilliant engineer and mixer and a prolific very talented musician/composer. I was very fortunate to spend time with Guy in his studio in Berlin. His sensitivity to the project and his electronic programming made a wonderful contribution to the composition. His collaboration and friendship made the days working in Berlin such a great experience I would like to thank Emma Ford for her dedication, enthusiasm and guidance on Pacific”

For both von Almen and Sternberg, the collaboration was equally meaningful. Von Almen reflects on the experience of recording the piece, saying: “As a musician, it is always a great privilege to work on a piece together with the composer, and of course I felt even luckier to go through the process of creating something new with an artist like Craig Armstrong. Figuratively speaking, it felt like knitting a silk scarf: using the finest materials and taking the utmost care during the recording, we have realised another beautiful and touching work by Craig, which will bring us and certainly many others great joy. I feel very honoured to have been part of this and to have experienced this warm encounter.”

Sternberg adds: “Diving into Armstrong’s music while working on this record felt like examining a diamond under a microscope, discovering endless beauty within simplicity. Perfection and complexity emerging from simplicity, where every note, tone, noise, and gesture has meaning. I’m deeply grateful to have been part of this process, and for the freedom Craig gave me to express myself through his music, to let our sonic visions merge into one. It’s been both a lesson in music-making and in setting the ego aside, if only for a moment.”

Reflecting Armstrong’s belief in the role of music as a force for empathy and reflection, proceeds from Pacific will be donated to charities working towards peace: Médecins Sans Frontières and the Red Cross.

The limited-edition vinyl release has been pressed on Eco Vinyl at SeaBass Vinyl, a sustainable plant near Edinburgh. The record features striking cover art by Dirk Rudolph, who has designed several of Armstrong’s previous releases.

Fragments was a completely new way of working for us. We’ve always worked with an internal brief, creating documents, pictures and videos, simply because keeping an idea on track with three individuals can be difficult. It's easy for someone to be edged out of the creative process when the focus is not clearly defined.
It’s a formula we’ve used since the early 2000s, but things have changed a lot since then, particularly when we decided to dip our collective toes into supporter memberships with Patreon. It made us think about what we could do directly for our support- ers rather than just the next album or project. At first, the whole thing felt odd and uncomfortable, but we decided that we’d try a few things and ask for feedback.
"Fragments" was initially a way for us to see how we could include others in an ongoing creative process. There was no over-arching concept, no defined characteristics or purpose, just the promise that there would be at least one new track for members to download every month. Consequently, we never knew what was coming next, so the old, very focused working method was irrelevant. It was difficult for us to let individual tracks go without knowing what was coming next, but this also made the project more interesting.
And then C19 hit and we were forced to continue the project remotely from our home studios. As difficult as the disruption was, it was during this period that we realised we could re-organise and remaster the individual tracks into a coherent album, captur- ing a specific moment in time and drawing a line under the first phase of the project.
Like our "Allegory" EPs, we’ve tried to keep everything stripped back. We used to hide many subtle elements within the layers, but not so much this time.
Fragments is our journey through many changes, both self-im- posed and those imposed upon us, and it ultimately led us to create things differently. We hope you like it.




b A2















r D1 b Yes Hello (Remastered BONUS) 1:53
s D2 No JuJu (Man Power Version - Remastered BONUS) 4:27
t D3 Cup Noodle (Unemployed Youth Version - Remastered [BONUS]) 5:43
[u] D4 Black Smoke (They Never Got Started) (Remastered [BONUS]) 2:18
[v] D5 Concrete Concentration (Remastered [BONUS]) 3:21
[b] They All Live In The Past (Remastered [BONUS]) 1:06

Dávid Makó began The Devil's Trade in 2014. His early solo work, often performed with only an acoustic guitar or banjo, quickly garnered attention for its emotional depth and stark beauty. Drawing on Appalachian folk, dark Americana, and Hungarian folk traditions, Makó's music has been praised for its haunting vocals, minimalist arrangements, and profound emotional honesty. Recently, and especially in this new release, elements of post-metal and doom have taken Makó's sound into new, exciting territory, whilst retaining his unique intimacy. `Nincs Szennyezetlen Szép', translated as "there is no uncontaminated beauty", is a record forged in grief and the unflinching confession. Fans of The Devil's Trade will immediately recognize Makó's signature elements: the deep, rugged baritone, the uncanny ability to transmit raw emotion and melodies drenched in melancholia. With his fifth studio album however, Makó reclaims the heaviness of his early years, pushing his sound into new, atmospheric territory. "Nincs szennyezetlen szép is much darker and heavier and more complex than anything I have done", says Makó. Working within a larger, more dynamic canvas, Mako's confessional power is met with metal-wrought anguish, reborn as an intimate, haunting journey toward authenticity. Makó has woven percussive muscle and electric weight in which archaic drums feature prominently as a driving, emotional force. The result is a soundscape of swinging moods: eruptions of doom, passages of plaintive lament _ the volatility of grief itself captured. FOR FANS OF Neurosis, Pallbearer, Bellwitch, Amenra, Yob, Monolord, Steve Von Till, Der Weg Einer Freiheit

Dávid Makó began The Devil's Trade in 2014. His early solo work, often performed with only an acoustic guitar or banjo, quickly garnered attention for its emotional depth and stark beauty. Drawing on Appalachian folk, dark Americana, and Hungarian folk traditions, Makó's music has been praised for its haunting vocals, minimalist arrangements, and profound emotional honesty. Recently, and especially in this new release, elements of post-metal and doom have taken Makó's sound into new, exciting territory, whilst retaining his unique intimacy. `Nincs Szennyezetlen Szép', translated as "there is no uncontaminated beauty", is a record forged in grief and the unflinching confession. Fans of The Devil's Trade will immediately recognize Makó's signature elements: the deep, rugged baritone, the uncanny ability to transmit raw emotion and melodies drenched in melancholia. With his fifth studio album however, Makó reclaims the heaviness of his early years, pushing his sound into new, atmospheric territory. "Nincs szennyezetlen szép is much darker and heavier and more complex than anything I have done", says Makó. Working within a larger, more dynamic canvas, Mako's confessional power is met with metal-wrought anguish, reborn as an intimate, haunting journey toward authenticity. Makó has woven percussive muscle and electric weight in which archaic drums feature prominently as a driving, emotional force. The result is a soundscape of swinging moods: eruptions of doom, passages of plaintive lament _ the volatility of grief itself captured. FOR FANS OF Neurosis, Pallbearer, Bellwitch, Amenra, Yob, Monolord, Steve Von Till, Der Weg Einer Freiheit

Repress 2025

Classic Drexciyan dance floor moment like 'Digital Tsunami' is considered as the signature track of the 'Harnessed the Storm' album. It is accompanied here by three titles that are not present on the 2LP vinyl version of the album.

Originally released in 2002, 'Harnessed the Storm' was conceived as the opening chapter of the legendary seven Storms - a series of seven albums created within a single year and released via several labels under different names.

'Harnessed the Storm' was the sole one in the series credited under the main Drexciya project.

This 12' also includes 'Aquatic Cataclysm' which ranks with the most abstract, alien and stark in their catalogue.

Another masterful lesson in futurist dance music from one of its strongest forces.

The anticipation is there in Elizabeth Stokes’ solo guitar riff under the opening lines of “I’m Not Getting Excited”: a frenetic, driving force daring a packed Auckland Town Hall to do exactly the opposite of what the track title suggests.

As the opener of The Beths’ Auckland, New Zealand, 2020 expands to include the full band, the crowd screeches and bellows. It’s a collective exhalation, in one of the few countries where live music is still possible.

The album title, and film of the same name, deliberately include the date and location, lead guitarist Jonathan Pearce says. “That’s the sensational part of what we actually did.” In a mid-pandemic world, playing to a heaving, enraptured home crowd feels miraculous.

In March 2020, everything seemed on track for another huge year for The Beths. Home after an 18-month northern hemisphere tour, they had just finished recording sophomore album Jump Rope Gazers and were primed for more extensive touring. But within days, New Zealand’s lockdown split the band between three separate houses. All touring was cancelled.

“It was existentially bad,” Stokes says. As well as worrying about economic survival, they lost something crucial to the band’s identity: live performance. “It's a huge part of how we see ourselves... What does it mean, if we can't play live?”

The band found an outlet through live-streaming, returning to the do-it-yourself mentality of their early days to connect with a global audience. The album and film have their genesis in that urge to share the now-rare experience of a live show, as widely as possible.

The fuzzy-round-the-edges live-streams pointed the way aesthetically. Native birds, wonkily crafted by the band from tissue paper and wire, festoon the venue’s cavernous ceiling while house plants soften and disguise the imposing pipes of an organ. The presence of the film crew isn’t disguised: much of the camerawork is handheld; full of fast zooms and pans.

With much of the material still fresh, the band was less focused on re-invention than playing “a good, fast rock show”, Pearce says. The tempo is up on crowd favourites “Whatever” and “Future Me Hates Me” (released as a live single on its third anniversary) as both band and audience feed off the mutual energy in the room.

Certain songs have taken on special resonance post-Covid. Pearce has found “Out Of Sight”, a tender rumination on long-distance relationships, hits particularly hard with live audiences.

Album closer “River Run” visibly brings Stokes to tears as a mix of achievement and relief kicks in. “You can finally relax at that point … You play the last note, breathe out a sigh and look up - and you’re in a giant room full of people happy and smiling.”

"Hasabe" is a thoughtfully curated collection of Ethio-groove recordings from one of the overlooked pioneers of 1970s Addis Ababa's vibrant music scene-Ayalew Mesfin and his Black Lion Band. Expect trap drum kits, jazz big-band styled horn sections, funky guitars played through wah wah and fuzz pedals- all seasoned with a unique Ethiopian touch_ For many, the music created in 1970s Ethiopia will sound both familiar and alien: while the trappings of '70s Ethiopian music carry some aspects that those in the West will easily identify with-trap drum kits, jazz big-band styled horn sections, guitars played through wah wah and fuzz pedals-the Ethiopian style of singing, and the modes in which the musicians move, may confound. Perhaps some who have delved into the instrumental Ethio-Jazz of Mulatu Astatke-a well-known Ethiopian musical export, relatively unknown in his homeland-will have a context in which to engage this great compilation of '70s Ethiopian music by Ayalew Mesfin. The music Mesfin created with his Black Lion Band is amongst the funkiest to arise from Addis Ababa; his recording career, captured in nearly two dozen 7" singles and numerous reel-to-reel tapes, shows the strata of the most fertile decade in Ethiopia's 20th century recording industry, when records were pressed constantly by both independent upstarts and corporate behemoths, even if they were only distributed within the confines of the unconquerable East African nation. Ayalew was forced underground by the Derg regime that took control of the country in 1974. Until recently, only four of Ayalew Mesfin's tracks had been reissued, appearing in the well-known "Éthiopiques" series. "Hasabe", a carefully curated collection of his singles, marks the first comprehensive release of this powerful and long-overlooked body of work by an artist whose originality and resistance defined a genre: Ethio-groove. More than four decades later, this album offers the rare opportunity to rediscover a vital and beautiful chapter in global music history. We are now reissuing "Hasabe" once again thanks to a collaboration with Now Again. Pressed on 180g vinyl.

Ostinato as resistance: Rafael Anton Irisarri’s landmark work reimagined. Marking the tenth anniversary of the American composer’s critically acclaimed album 'A Fragile Geography', this new edition arrives renewed, both sonically and visually.

First released in 2015 (Room40) during a period of personal upheaval and creative reinvention, it endures as a testament to resilience, transformation, and the connection we hold with the places that shape us.

Written in the aftermath of a devastating theft, A Fragile Geography was born out of loss. Just days before a cross-country move to New York, Irisarri’s entire Seattle-based studio was wiped out. Instruments. Recordings. Archives. Gone without a trace. He arrived on the East Coast to an empty room and the daunting task of starting over.

“This album wasn’t just a record; it was a lifeline,” Irisarri reflects. “It became a way to process the emotional chaos that followed: uprooting, instability, and ultimately, the slow, intuitive rebuilding of a life.”

Composed and recorded in the rural woods of the Hudson Valley, the album took shape in seclusion, surrounded by nature, and through a process guided by improvisation. Embracing limitations, Irisarri wove textural layers of field recordings with half-remembered melodies from his Seattle years, piecing them together like fragments of memory. Tracks like “Displacement,” “Hiatus,” and “Persistence” juxtaposed haunting stillness with restless momentum, mapping an inner terrain of grief, catharsis, and rebirth.

Among its defining sounds is “Empire Systems,” a monumental centerpiece built around a simple four-chord progression, organ textures, and guitar drones. Gradually, the track expands into layers of immersive loops and thick, enveloping distortion that wash over the listener like a rolling wave. Often cited as the album’s most majestic passage, it captures Irisarri at his most sonically ambitious. With a harmonically saturated structure crafted from restraint and repetition, it remains one of his most recognizable compositions: an exercise in the art of maximal minimalism.

From the outset, “Reprisal” received praise from BBC’s Mary Anne Hobbs, who championed the track on her radio show. Her support played a key role in introducing Irisarri’s work to wider audiences and solidifying his place within the lineage of electronic, drone, and experimental sound artists. A slow-burning elegy, the piece emerges from a haze of distortion and sub-bass, with dense, unrelenting drones carrying a sense of mounting tension. Just as it seems to collapse under its own weight, flickers of guitar emerge like distant light through fog. It’s a meditation on dissonance, resolve, and the elusive possibility of release.

The closing track, “Secretly Wishing for Rain,” is steeped in saudade: a longing for Seattle’s dour grey skies, lush green landscapes, and desaturated sunsets. Through it, Irisarri mourns a vanished chapter of life bound to the city, a time documented in scattered mementos and cherished collections, now permanently gone. A reflection on what could never be recovered: an era lost to time. Julia Kent’s looped cello motifs added a melancholic warmth to the track, marking the first collaboration between the two artists and sparking a musical dialogue that would keep growing in the years that followed.

More than a career highlight, A Fragile Geography has laid the foundation for Black Knoll studio, which Irisarri rebuilt from the ground up. The studio has since grown into a creative hub for countless projects, with Irisarri engineering records for iconic music figures like Terry Riley, Ryuichi Sakamoto, William Basinski, MONO, Devendra Banhart, Grouper, Emeralds, Steve Hauschildt, Julianna Barwick, and many others. Carried by its lasting influence, the album has quietly captured the ear of a younger generation, its sound and emotional arc finding new listeners in unexpected corners.

The album’s new visual language was reimagined in collaboration with Mexico City–based designer Daniel Castrejón. Irisarri captured ghostly images at Gaztelugatxeko Doniene, a historic coastal site in Bermeo, Euskal Herria. Castrejón then treated the photographs with distressed textures and spectral overlays. The final artwork channels the rugged, elemental forces that shaped both the music and Irisarri’s aesthetic, renewing his ties to ancestral ground inspired by the Basque homeland of his bloodline.

Mastered by Stephan Mathieu with exceptional attention to detail, this anniversary edition uncovers every nuance in the sound design, enhancing clarity and presence. With each listen, new elements emerge, inviting discovery and reconnection.

“I don’t experience this album as a document of grief anymore,” says Irisarri. “I hear adaptation and I'm reminded that when everything falls apart, something meaningful, maybe even beautiful, can emerge.”

Ostinato as resistance: Rafael Anton Irisarri’s landmark work reimagined. Marking the tenth anniversary of the American composer’s critically acclaimed album 'A Fragile Geography', this new edition arrives renewed, both sonically and visually.

First released in 2015 (Room40) during a period of personal upheaval and creative reinvention, it endures as a testament to resilience, transformation, and the connection we hold with the places that shape us.

Written in the aftermath of a devastating theft, A Fragile Geography was born out of loss. Just days before a cross-country move to New York, Irisarri’s entire Seattle-based studio was wiped out. Instruments. Recordings. Archives. Gone without a trace. He arrived on the East Coast to an empty room and the daunting task of starting over.

“This album wasn’t just a record; it was a lifeline,” Irisarri reflects. “It became a way to process the emotional chaos that followed: uprooting, instability, and ultimately, the slow, intuitive rebuilding of a life.”

Composed and recorded in the rural woods of the Hudson Valley, the album took shape in seclusion, surrounded by nature, and through a process guided by improvisation. Embracing limitations, Irisarri wove textural layers of field recordings with half-remembered melodies from his Seattle years, piecing them together like fragments of memory. Tracks like “Displacement,” “Hiatus,” and “Persistence” juxtaposed haunting stillness with restless momentum, mapping an inner terrain of grief, catharsis, and rebirth.

Among its defining sounds is “Empire Systems,” a monumental centerpiece built around a simple four-chord progression, organ textures, and guitar drones. Gradually, the track expands into layers of immersive loops and thick, enveloping distortion that wash over the listener like a rolling wave. Often cited as the album’s most majestic passage, it captures Irisarri at his most sonically ambitious. With a harmonically saturated structure crafted from restraint and repetition, it remains one of his most recognizable compositions: an exercise in the art of maximal minimalism.

From the outset, “Reprisal” received praise from BBC’s Mary Anne Hobbs, who championed the track on her radio show. Her support played a key role in introducing Irisarri’s work to wider audiences and solidifying his place within the lineage of electronic, drone, and experimental sound artists. A slow-burning elegy, the piece emerges from a haze of distortion and sub-bass, with dense, unrelenting drones carrying a sense of mounting tension. Just as it seems to collapse under its own weight, flickers of guitar emerge like distant light through fog. It’s a meditation on dissonance, resolve, and the elusive possibility of release.

The closing track, “Secretly Wishing for Rain,” is steeped in saudade: a longing for Seattle’s dour grey skies, lush green landscapes, and desaturated sunsets. Through it, Irisarri mourns a vanished chapter of life bound to the city, a time documented in scattered mementos and cherished collections, now permanently gone. A reflection on what could never be recovered: an era lost to time. Julia Kent’s looped cello motifs added a melancholic warmth to the track, marking the first collaboration between the two artists and sparking a musical dialogue that would keep growing in the years that followed.

More than a career highlight, A Fragile Geography has laid the foundation for Black Knoll studio, which Irisarri rebuilt from the ground up. The studio has since grown into a creative hub for countless projects, with Irisarri engineering records for iconic music figures like Terry Riley, Ryuichi Sakamoto, William Basinski, MONO, Devendra Banhart, Grouper, Emeralds, Steve Hauschildt, Julianna Barwick, and many others. Carried by its lasting influence, the album has quietly captured the ear of a younger generation, its sound and emotional arc finding new listeners in unexpected corners.

The album’s new visual language was reimagined in collaboration with Mexico City–based designer Daniel Castrejón. Irisarri captured ghostly images at Gaztelugatxeko Doniene, a historic coastal site in Bermeo, Euskal Herria. Castrejón then treated the photographs with distressed textures and spectral overlays. The final artwork channels the rugged, elemental forces that shaped both the music and Irisarri’s aesthetic, renewing his ties to ancestral ground inspired by the Basque homeland of his bloodline.

Mastered by Stephan Mathieu with exceptional attention to detail, this anniversary edition uncovers every nuance in the sound design, enhancing clarity and presence. With each listen, new elements emerge, inviting discovery and reconnection.

“I don’t experience this album as a document of grief anymore,” says Irisarri. “I hear adaptation and I'm reminded that when everything falls apart, something meaningful, maybe even beautiful, can emerge.”

The Rachel's band began when Jason Noble joined forces with Christian Frederickson. Within months of their meeting on a crowded trolley, they had formed a small ensemble to perform original compositions. In the next three years, madness ensued. Christian finished his degree at the Peabody Conserva-tory of Music, traveled to Switzerland to study, returned home, then wound up in NYC to attend the Julliard School. Jason didn't finish his degree, moved back to Louisville, began employment as an artist by day, dishwasher by night, and be-gan working with friends in a band that would become Rodan. This insane, all over the world life-style, led to a barrage of telephone, demo tape, notepaper, sheet music & mail communication. This, combined with sporadic two-week or two-day person-to-person collaborations in whatever city was central enough, became the bizarre process of the music. During this long gestation, Rachel Grimes became involved, first assisting Jason in his brute comprehension of written music, then joining as a pianist & confidant. Soon she was fully entrenched, providing the strange coincidence of possessing the name "Rachel," and an incredible backbone to the project. Several recordings had been finished, some in the studio, hundreds of 8-track cassettes, a few jambox cuts, but the time for a concentrated attempt at an LP seemed far away. Finally, Rachel, Christian, & Jason began assembling musicians who they respected; John, Mark and Barry from the Chicago supergroup The Coctails, Kevin Coul-tas from Rodan, Bob Weston, and several other string players from various walks of life. The result was a group of semi-vagrants, some reading from sheet music, some rambunctious noisemakers, working from an equally improvisational and tight-assed way. The real character comes from the musicians involved, participating in what can only be called a "labor of love." Handwriting, the band's debut album, was originally released by Quarterstick Records in 1995. Jacket custom screen-printed by Jeff Mueller at Dexterity Press.

First time reissue of this French cold-wave / minimal-synth treasure.



November 1981 – In the heart of autumn, we set off in two cars along the Nationale 1 (!) to reach Choisy-le-Roi, where a 16-track studio was waiting for us—a place where, over the course of a weekend, we would finally be able to carve our own grooves into vinyl. We were quite nervous, as Guerre Froide had already been around for a year and a half. Our elders in Kas Product had already released two EPs—one with four tracks, the other with three—in 1980, even though they’d started only a few months before us. Admittedly, there wasn’t really a sense of urgency—some of us came from the punk movement, where the prevailing mood was still very much No Future, even if we’d long since stopped believing in it... And yet others had truly lost everything, like those from the generation before us. The reasons, ironically, were often the same: heroin and/or love—hard drugs, in both cases.

Speaking of which, I had a terrible stomach ache—due to nerves or some form of tension—which forced us to make a pit stop in the Oise region so I could rush to the toilet of a local café. That same stomach discomfort would hit me again once we arrived at the studio—whose name, incidentally, I’ve since forgotten...

We had gotten there thanks to the generous initiative of a friend, Sylvain S., known as “Perlin” (what a phonetic coincidence!?), who had specifically created the Stechak Products label to produce our record. Stechak because it was consistent with his earlier association called Tchernoziom, and Products as a plural tribute to the trailblazers from Nancy.

Guerre Froide originally consisted of four members: Fabrice Fruchart on guitar-synth (Korg MS-20), Patrick Mallet on bass, and Gilbert Deffais, known as “Bébert”, on Korg drum machine. At the time, I was already singing in a rock/post-punk band called Stress, and that’s how Guerre Froide picked up the bad habit of rehearsing in the same basement in Amiens as Stress. Within a month or two, we had half a dozen songs. We then had the opportunity to record a 4-track demo with a friend from Radio France Picardie, and to perform in October at a festival held at the Amiens municipal circus. Then came the now-legendary concert on November 11 at B.J.’s Club. After that, we self-produced and released 50 completely DIY copies of a cassette titled Cicatrice. A few concerts later—after Jean-Michel Bailleux had joined us on bass and Patrick had switched to guitar, which felt more natural to him—and with more concrete plans starting to take shape, we had to find a new rehearsal space and start renting a room.

Then came the moment when Fabrice told us he was leaving to go study in Lille... After the June 19, 1981 concert, which was naturally dubbed “Farewell to 2F,” Marie-José, Bébert’s wife, offered to take over on synth.

That’s when Perlin, who was a close friend of the Deffais couple and a great fan of our music, offered to fully finance the production of a 4-track 12-inch EP—covering the studio time, mastering, pressing, and artwork. What up-and-coming band would have turned that down? An improvised contract was signed with each member of Guerre Froide. The first step was choosing which four songs we would record. Berlin 81 was an obvious pick, having already become the group’s flagship track. We wanted to avoid reusing songs from Cicatrice, so the focus shifted to new material—some written before, some after Fabrice’s departure. Ersatz, for example, was his composition, but Mauve and Peine Perdue, which were also selected, were both written by Patrick.

After years of friendship and sound fragmentation, Felipe Valenzuela and Federico Molinari have succeeded in capturing and distilling their unique musical perspective into a single frame.Throughout this process, these two minds from across the Andes have developed numerous productions with a broad, multidirectional genre range.This release features four tracks, each with its own distinct identity. The A1 track, FORCED TO THE SCALES, which lends its name to the EP, blends elements of Spanish classical music with a futuristic edge, seamlessly adapting to various moments within a set.The second track on side A, RAPS TIGHT, is an experiment born from the same session, where a subtle sensitivity is expressed through a a slow beat, enveloped in a harmonious world.On side B, 503 emerges from a different creative process, combining two divergent paths that naturally intersect, resulting in a track full of energy and dynamism.The EP closes with DEAD MAN, a one-shot recording that, through its raw spontaneity, encapsulates the conclusion of a fragmented journey within a frame full of versatility.

Students of Decay presents The Dip, a new full-length recording by Berlin-based artist and composer Thomas Ankersmit, marking his debut with the label and sixth album to date. Comprised of two expansive, sidelong pieces composed entirely on the Serge Modular synthesizer, it signals a subtle yet significant shift in Ankersmit’s trajectory, imbuing the hyper-physical, psychoacoustic intensities of his live performances with introspective, atmospheric, and even melodic elements.

Primarily known for a site-responsive approach to sound, often realized in the moment of performance, Ankersmit’s turn toward the studio in the last few years has opened up a new dimension within his practice. It is in this quiet rupture that The Dip emerged, a study in internality and suspended states, rich with cinematic undercurrents and ghostly spatial suggestion. Here, electricity itself feels transfigured – becoming supple, even organic – within an environment shaped entirely by analog signals.

Over the past two decades, Ankersmit has established himself as one of the foremost practitioners of the Serge, the notoriously idiosyncratic and expressive instrument that has remained central to his work. On The Dip, he harnesses its potential not for brute force or disorientation, but for spaciousness, resonance, and lyrical abstraction. Without resorting to additional processing or effects, he draws out tones that feel simultaneously raw and refined, articulated and blurred – intricate structures that seem to breathe and evolve of their own volition.

The result is a kind of auditory hallucination, a “cinema for the ears,” wherein impressions, emotional arcs, and imagined topographies unfold. Each side of The Dip plays like a single gesture unfolding in time – a spatial narrative constructed through vibration, density, and the movement of air.

The Dip follows acclaimed works on PAN, Touch, and Shelter Press, and reaffirms Thomas Ankersmit’s position as one of the most focused and probing voices in contemporary experimental music. Quietly radical and meticulously constructed, it is less a departure than a deepening – a descent into a more private sonic world, where the boundaries between perception, memory, and pure signal dissolve.

What happens when you combine SUMAC: a band that uses the volume, distortion, and guitar-centric approach of metal to make music that has the malleability of jazz and textural exploration of noise with Moor Mother: a poet and sound artist that has deconstructed hip hop to a point where it"s less about rhyme and rhythm (though obviously both are present in her work) and more about oratorical cadence and power.

The Film is an album that takes attributes of both artists" work and finds common ground in shifting musical patterns, and expressive force. The record is a musical thumbing of their noses at the more traditional approaches of their respective fields, an innovative, powerhouse of an album. The Film"s moniker speaks to the fact that it is conceived and delivered as a complete album, a full story or narrative. Moor Mother puts it best: "The idea is to create a moment outside of the convention. This is a work of art.

Thinking about the work as a Film, instead of an album or a collection of songs. This task is impossible in an industry that wants to force everything into a box of consumption. You won"t understand or get the full picture until the artwork is completed. This work is developing and is requesting more agency within the creative process." The Film is just such a work, a nebulitic collaboration between SUMAC and Moor Mother.

It’s very difficult to describe someone as prolific as Misha Panfilov. So, I feel the best way to define him is to think of a “Trivial Pursuit Playing Piece,” where each pie piece represents one of the bands he heads up, and each band has its own distinct style and genre. Yet, when looked at all together, create the whole musical persona of Misha. This is the lens I would like to view his latest endeavor, Days As Echoes.

The vibe on this sophomore release channels Krautrock philosophy and Library music, peppered with elements of jazz, Ethiopian, cinema, ambient and bits of everything between. This atmosphere is created from all the instruments Misha uses and the resulting compositions are heard as repetitive patterns that are forged from the multiple layering of melodies. Thus, creating six unique songs with emotional granularity, yet collectively encompass a genuinely positive “feel good” vibe…with a hint of nostalgia.

Moods of the day, moods like echoes say, A future of hope is yours, by following the Sun’s ray.

The opening track, “Days As Echoes,” is a dedication to a much simpler time when the sky was bluer and the snow was whiter…just like how you remember it when you were a child. A time when people honestly cared more about everything as a given, and not as a selfish accolade. A time when optimism seemed within reach. In other words, nostalgia marred by awareness.

…Leading to a path where the skies are not gray. Where dreams of castles in the air are the mainstay.

“In A Dream” has a style that pays homage to both spiritual jazz and ambient music. A simple theme is introduced and leads to the climax of this stormy dream, putting it all in perspective. That pivotal point when one realizes the truth by re-tracing the events, which led to the epiphany of how to find the answer while traveling within this airy soundscape.

…Diurnal or nocturnal, day or night, Traveling the path of truth must be done without fright.

One can’t help but feel a definite traveling vibe that comes from “Moonscape Waltz” To me, it has a dual-characteristic that can be visualized as a train trip, either at sunrise or sunset. Regardless, the time is not of major relevance, but the actual pursuit is. Lao Tzu said, “The journey of a thousand miles begins with that first step.” This track takes you beyond that initial step into this vast world toward your destination as you search for the truth.

…The unknown is real, but you know the deal. People need people to show which direction you point the wheel.

“Together” is the most peaceful and solo oriented compositions of this album. It shows how one cannot achieve happiness alone, but the importance of having someone special or a group of others to help along the way. Not only to help seek your goal, but also the ability to enjoy the scenery while on your journey

…The end of this tunnel has a light that’s so bright. Illuminating the trodden way, your destination, now in sight.

One is free from the chains of the unknown as you listen to a “Few Layers For Smith”, a dedication to a friend. A song that draws energy from the ECM works of Steve Reich, thats married with a primitive lo-fi basement setting. Its positive force breaks those encumbrances and gives you a glimpse of your prize. But you ruminate on this and come to the conclusion that the path that led you there is equally important as the goal itself. Question is, how do you share your realizations and experiences?

…The route was cast, the trials have passed. The glittering treasure you sought is yours now, at last.

“Ocean Song” meanders from the ritual rhythms of its shoreline to the crashing riptides of unbridled guitar feedback, creating this raging ocean atmosphere. However, its message is quite clear and states that people’s goals and experiences are not just meant for personal growth, but to be shared with
others, so that they too can live vicariously thru your story and somehow utilize it for their own.

…The prize has been won, but the journey is never done. You now have the responsibility to share everything under the Sun.

These six songs, each with its own sound, collectively comprise the vibe of this album. One cannot help but feel a sense of joy and fulfillment when listening to it. Each song has its own unique mood, yet together create an atmosphere of hope and happiness that has no choice but to spill out of the listener. I feel this was the ultimate goal of Misha’s on this record. Quite a challenge for the man who never sleeps, but is always searching for the perfect beat. One may not fully grasp his musical mind, but this album does give you a gateway into the moods and magic of Misha!

- Brent Sawicki

The discovery of Doris Dennison's score represents a genuine musicological breakthrough—what once would have been "a tree falling in the woods" thirty years ago now holds the potential to render "a thunderous clap in our minds." While researching Anna Halprin's lesser-known collaborators, scholar Tom Welsh uncovered the archives of AA Leath, one of Halprin's principal dancers. Buried within these materials was Dennison's handwritten score for Earth Interval, dated May 1956. Born in Saskatchewan, Canada, in 1908, and raised near Seattle, Dennison (1908-2009) encountered John Cage while teaching Dalcroze eurythmics at the Cornish College of the Arts. She joined Cage's earliest percussion quartet—alongside Margaret Jansen, the composer and his wife Xenia—in the group widely regarded as having performed the first complete concert of percussion music in the United States. This historic December 1938 concert was followed by tours and the landmark May 1941 performance at the California Club, comprising Cage and Lou Harrison's Double Music, the premiere of Cage's Third Construction, and Harrison's 13th Simfony.

As Bradford Bailey observes in his extensive liner notes, Earth Interval demonstrates "an extraordinary balance of elements that imbues the piece with a sense of clarity, directness, and constraint that is both distinct and ahead of its time." The work's most remarkable innovation lies in its approach to extended techniques, particularly Dennison's notation for the central movement: "In 2nd movement, 1st player lowers + raises a gong into a tub of water while beating." This technique, absorbed from Cage's experimental vocabulary, generates what Bailey describes as "fields of acoustic abstraction that bend and warp time through sustained resonances, beat, and space." The temporal sophistication of these manipulations anticipated Karlheinz Stockhausen's Mikrophonie I (1964) and Annea Lockwood's water-based sound investigations by over a decade. After joining Mills College as dance accompanist, Dennison maintained crucial connections to the Bay Area's experimental scene, collaborating with figures like Merce Cunningham and programming Cage's music throughout the 1950s.

Comprising three movements—Land Form, Air Tide, and Earth Play—Earth Interval is scored for recorder, drums, gongs, maracas, muted gongs, and bowl gongs. In total, the piece is just under eight minutes: "a fleeting glimmer of moment in time, a life spent at the cutting edge, and a singular creative vision that packs a powerful punch." When viewed in historical context, placed in contrast to roughly contemporaneous avant-garde percussion works by Cage, Harrison, Louis Thomas Hardin (Moondog), and Harry Partch, or important precursors like Edgard Varèse's Ionisation (1931) and Henry Cowell's Ostinato Pianissimo (1934), it's clear that Dennison was following her own path. Earth Interval is not derivative. It is a precursor to what was yet to come, alluding to developments of avant-garde and experimental music that wouldn't begin to appear on the cultural landscape until the 1970s and '80s, with the emergence of Post-Minimalism and more idiosyncratic artists and ensembles like Midori Takada, Ros Bandt, Peter Giger, Frank Perry, Christopher Tree, Michael Ranta, Gamelan Son of Lion, and Niagara.

This recording by Chicago's Third Coast Percussion, captured in March 2022, represents the first complete documentation of this pioneering work. The ensemble's interpretation reveals the piece's remarkable contemporaneity while maintaining its historical specificity. Where Cage, Harrison, and Partch employed "self-consciously off-kilter polyrhythms," Dennison's rhythmic sensibility anticipates minimalist developments by nearly a decade, yet integrates "forceful rests, as well as sharp shifts in sonic character, tempo, and meter, that break the momentum and breathe a sense of life into the piece's structure." This positions her work closer to Post-Minimalism decades before its emergence. The architectural approach demonstrates Dennison's understanding that "the composer almost entirely disappears" in favor of phenomenological listening experience, creating what might be called an egoless music that places its realities and meaning entirely in the ear of the beholder. The present recording, realized by Chicago's distinguished Third Coast Percussion ensemble, represents a significant achievement in experimental music scholarship and performance practice. As specialists in the Cage tradition and contemporary percussion repertoire, Third Coast Percussion approached Earth Interval with the historical sensitivity and technical precision required to illuminate Dennison's subtle compositional innovations. The March 2022 recording sessions, engineered by Colin Campbell, capture both the work's intimate chamber music qualities and its bold exploration of extended techniques. The ensemble's interpretation reveals the piece's remarkable contemporaneity—its ability to speak directly to current musical concerns while maintaining its historical specificity.

This recording serves multiple scholarly functions: it provides the first complete documentation of Dennison's compositional voice, offers insight into the broader network of experimental music practitioners surrounding Cage and Harrison, and demonstrates the sophisticated level of compositional thinking that was occurring within the Bay Area's dance-music collaborations of the 1950s. The work's emphasis on phenomenological listening—what might be called an "egoless" approach to musical experience—places it within a lineage of American experimental music that prioritizes perceptual process over compositional personality. The work's original obscurity—limited to AA Leath's performances at venues like the 1957 Pacific Coast Arts Festival at Reed College—paradoxically allowed it to remain "entirely on its own terms," free from the constraints of historical categorization. Drawing on Jacques Derrida's Archive Fever, the argument emerges that "the archive can acknowledge, celebrate, and resurrect" overlooked voices, transforming our understanding of experimental music history. The present Blume edition, featuring Third Coast Percussion's authoritative interpretation, includes a lavishly illustrated 16-page booklet designed by Bruno Stucchi / dinamomilano, containing complete scholarly apparatus, historical photographs, and detailed production notes. This recording enables "cross-temporal intersectionality," allowing Dennison to "belong to a newly formed and more dynamic understanding of the present and past," demonstrating how forgotten voices can reshape entire historical narratives when given proper scholarly attention and performance advocacy.

Full of Hell Coagulated Bliss bio Full of Hell burst forth with incredible force from the small, dagger-shaped city of Ocean City, Maryland, 15 years ago. Over five full-lengths, five collaborative full-lengths, and countless splits, EPs, singles, and noise compilations, they’ve evolved at extraordinary speed, their music becoming more complicated and technical without ever slowing down or losing its soul. Everything on a Full of Hell album feels like a blur: smears of guitar, harsh noise shaken like gravel in a bag, singer Dylan Walker’s snarl and bite carrying him into outer space or into the core of the earth. They’re coiled, interlocking, impossible to penetrate, and they move with alarming speed. They have now reached terminal velocity. Having created their own context, they’re now able to walk around within it, to survey its terrain, to visit far corners and see who’s nearby. Coagulated Bliss sounds like Full of Hell, but it’s nothing like any Full of Hell record that’s come before it.

Way back when, Upgrade & Afterlife was the umpteenth release from the individual and collective forces of David Grubbs (known then for Bastro, The Red Krayola, Codeine, Squirrel Bait) and Jim O"Rourke (known for O"Rourke), whose further history has since numbered at least another umpteen or so essential listens. What is it though, wrapped up in delectable sonic amber here, that defines this Upgrade? To be sure, we hear these young men dashing through the joys of youth-their actual young youth-as well as a version captured in memory and relived with a performative touch. Time remembered as tones, with gravity gained via perceptions. The stuff of memory and sentiment as selective and potentially deceptive in their nature. Who needed "em? As part of its time-traveling function, Upgrade & Afterlife is a return to roots, but not always necessarily Gastr"s. They were more than happy to stand on branches up above other folks in order to see any next thing worth leaping for. In addition to the elder-statesman Conrad, Gastr del Sol drew upon a memorable spectrum of players for the sounds of Upgrade & Afterlife, including Anthony Burr, Steve Braack, Gene Coleman, Mats Gustafsson, Terri Kapsalis, John McEntire, Günter Müller, Jerry Ruthrauff, Ralf Wehowsky and Sue Wolf. When issued, this combination of players, parts and play - packaged in an impressively broad tip-on Stoughton gatefold sleeve emblazoned with Roman Signer"s instantly iconic "Wasserstiefel" image - became the fastest-moving Gastr del Sol record to date. A delightful result, to our way of thinking, of the band"s ability to push at the far boundaries of their music while consolidating upon pleasure points within sounds and songs. Gastr used these polarities to compulsively draw the listener intimately close with sudden injections of g-force and an uncanny interpolation of space.

"Wind, Again" is Sary Moussa’s fourth studio album and second album on Other People. Based between France and Lebanon, Moussa returns with a riveting electro-acoustic album informed by his ever-changing relationships to space, listening, and resonance as well as his growing interest in the study of harmonics in electronic and electro-acoustic music.

Years in the making, “Wind, Again” approaches distinct musical worlds and languages by bringing together improvisations by musicians performing on Western and West Asian instruments such as the Hammond organ, clarinet, saz, and buzuk with electronic arrangements and textures. Rather than force a rapprochement of these musical worlds through the instruments, and keenly aware of the weighty sonic histories they carry, Moussa proposes another way through which they can exist together in contemporary electronic composition.

Composed of six tracks, each of which demonstrate an array of recording and processing techniques, the album generates moments of tension produced by the synthesis of textural, tonal, and harmonic encounters that Moussa calls “shadows”, which outline an impressionistic musical language, existing at the edge of familiarity. Such moments permeate tracks like “Everywhere at once” and “Violence” that open with the Hammond organ and the saz respectively and slowly reveal an expansive field of sounds that showcases each of the musicians’ characteristic performances and Moussa’s densely layered textures. It is a latent yet unrelenting tension through which the composer invokes rather than represents a collective experiential state, especially familiar to those who know his environment. In “Wind, Again” these shadows are articulations of sounds steeped in traditions they are never quite tethered to. Such articulations are implied and alluded to, they play within a musical reference without the latter explicitly existing in the recording, always teetering, never completely here nor there.
Sonically and musically, the album is fueled by the cultural, social, and personal realities that Moussa was brought up and lives in.

Both personal and musical ties with the musicians who feature on the album is central to Moussa’s practice. In the title track “I will never write a song about you”, musician Julia Sabra opens with rolled piano chords, followed by Paed Conca on clarinet and Abed Kobeissy on buzuk, before Moussa’s electronic processing pieces together, lifts, and sustains the melodic direction of the track that emerged from the musicians’ separate improvisations. For Moussa: “The initial connection between the three performances was made on a track that no longer existed, the original recording was both an obstacle and necessary step for the track we hear on the record. It’s as if we were all telling different stories and I pulled on the thread that held them together”. The track, and more generally the record, is tinged with a melancholy of things lost, though it never fully succumbs to it.
“Everything inside a circle”, Moussa’s most personal track and for which he provides the only vocals on the record, harkens back to a childhood memory of listening to music with his mother in a car: “There was a sound I was looking for — a memory of a sound and how I first heard it. This track is a hybrid of that memory and what I wanted to make of it”. The track relies heavily on generativesystems and perhaps embodies most the ambiguous quality of the record’s music in its refusal to be pinned down by one musical tradition or another.
“Wind, Again” is both familiar and alien, cold and warm; it pays homage to the mechanics, materials, and tactility of the instruments and converges acoustic and synthetic spaces. What anchors the sound of the album are the elements of a whole that cannot find its own idiosyncrasy and that is precisely why Moussa’s album is a tour de force.

Crafted entirely on an analog monophonic synthesizer with no overdubs, Pièces Monophoniques is a tribute to simplicity in an era of limitless digital possibilities. Since his debut album, Music For Prophet (Les Disques du Festival Permanent, 2017), Majorca-born composer Marc Melià, now a long-time resident of Brussels, has been redefining the contours of electronic music through a minimalist, reductionist approach. Much like a solitary hike through the vastness of mountains, where one carries only the essentials, Melià’s work invites listeners on a journey stripped of excess, focusing instead on the purity of sound and intention.
While some have dismissed monophonic music as overly simplistic, others have embraced its distinct charm. Historical records, such as those by Johannes Quasten, reveal that early Church leaders were drawn to monophonic music because it resonated with the era's cosmological beliefs, highlighting the harmony and unity of all creation. In an age of digital abundance, Marc Melià deliberately embraces constraint, crafting an album that thrives within a limited palette of choices. Yet, from these self-imposed boundaries emerges a stunning universe, brimming with rich textures and elegant harmonies. For his debut album, Melià worked exclusively with a Sequential Prophet. With Pièces Monophoniques, his third LP, he returns armed solely with an analog monophonic synthesizer and handcrafted MIDI sequences etched directly onto a single stereo track. These recordings seek to uncover beauty within the boundaries of limitations and simplicity, rejecting any embellishments that are not essential. Melià presents the bare skeleton of music, highlighting the power of absence and silence as creative forces. Like the hidden mass of an iceberg, what is not heard becomes as significant as what is heard.
The album navigates the boundary where the quest for an uninhibited emotional response intersects with the mechanical sounds generated by synthesizer circuitry. Despite being a collection of beatless tracks, a pulse occasionally surfaces, like in the closing piece, "224 Steps. A sharp sequence blended with multiple delays and reverbs creates the vaporous celestial specter of multiple voices in "Illusions of Polyphony", while "Échoes et Fantasies" conjures the illusion of dual harmony. The expansive reverbs and silences between the euphoric synth phrases in "Overture" transport us to an imaginary magestic landscape shaped out of an electric field. "Resonances," a one-note drone-like sequence, embodies the album's aims as a series of resonances created with the synth filter emerge from the fundamental note.
"Pièces Monophoniques," aims to contribute to a tradition that dates back to the dawn of humanity. After all, there is no denying that the earliest music crafted by humanity was monophonic, from the soothing lullabies sung to newborns to Gregorian chants, traditional labor songs, and the repertoire of solo compositions by countless composers.

Ali Farka Touré trekked the world, bringing his beloved Malian music to the masses. Dubbed “the African John Lee Hooker,” one could hear strong connections between the two; both employed a bluesy style of play with gritty textures that elicit calm and fury in equal measure. While the influence of Black blues music prevailed, Touré created a West African blend of 'desert blues' that garnered Grammy awards and widespread reverence. Though he transcended in 2006, Ali’s musical legacy lives on through his son, Vieux aka “the Hendrix of the Sahara,” an accomplished guitarist and champion of Malian music in his own right. On Ali, his collaborative album with Khruangbin, Vieux pays homage to his father by recreating some of his most resonant work, putting new twists on it while maintaining the original’s integrity. The result is a rightful ode to a legend. Ali isn’t just a greatest hits compilation. It’s a lullaby, a remembrance of Ali's life through known highlights and B-sides from his catalog. It is a testament to what happens when creativity is approached through open arms and open hearts. “To me, music is magic, it is spontaneous, it is the energy between people,” Vieux says. “I think Khruangbin understands this very well.” The genesis of the album dates back to 2019, when Khruangbin, coming off their breakthrough album Con Todo el Mundo, was beginning to play to bigger crowds. The record was finished in 2021, as a global pandemic shuttered businesses and forced us to take stock of what Earth was becoming. Indirectly, Ali captures this as a moment of peace within a raging storm, a conversation between past and present without allegiance to suffering. Now, given Khruangbin’s reach as a unit with legions of fans (including the likes of Jay-Z and Paul McCartney), they’re poised to bring Malian music to broader groups of listeners. Ali is a masterful work in which the love surrounding it is just as vital as the music itself, driving it to unforeseen places; Vieux and Khruangbin are spreading the good word to a completely new generation. “I hope it takes them somewhere new, or puts them in a place they haven't felt or heard,” Lee says. “It is about the love of new friendship and making something beautiful together,” Vieux continues. “It is about pouring your love into something old to make it new again. In the end and in a word it is love, that's all.”

LIMITED VINYL COMES IN CARDBOARD SLEEVE WITH BOOKLET!
OSTRANENIE is a collection of digitally manipulated, impressionistic piano miniatures — each named after blockbuster films and TV series. Improvised late at night as a reaction against passive media consumption, these pieces function as both homage and critique, navigating the space between classical impressionism and contemporary digital manipulation. They don’t just deconstruct traditional piano expression; they interrogate the emotional stakes of sound in an era where immersion culture flattens meaning and algorithmic logic erodes agency.

The album’s title references the Russian formalist Viktor Shklovsky’s concept of “ostranenie” (ɐstrɐˈnjenjɪj, estrangement/defamiliarization), a term he introduced in the early 1920s to describe art’s role in resisting the indifference of habitual perception.

“And so, held accountable for nothing, life fades into nothingness. Automation eats away at things, at clothes, at furniture, at our wives, and at our fear of war.”
—Viktor Shklovsky, Theory of Prose (1925)

Shklovsky saw art as a way to break through the anesthetizing effects of routine, stripping away the layers of habit that dull our senses. By making the familiar strange, art reclaims perception from the mechanical and the automatic. His argument wasn’t just a theoretical exercise — it was a response to a world rapidly consumed by industrialization, war machines, and the alienation of a technologically dominated modern life. In this context, he positioned artistic technique as something autonomous, distinct from mere social criticism or psychological reflection. Art seeks to remove “...the crust that the world of things deposits on our senses, with routine’s unending murder of the real.” Ben Ehrenreich on Serena Vitale’s Making Strange (The Nation, 2013)

This tension—between revolutionary/artistic and industrial technologies—defined the 20th century, and it continues to resonate today. The mechanization and automation that fueled the First World War’s devastation, alongside the social and economic turbulence of the 1920s, became central to the era’s self-conception. But just as technology was a source of alienation, it was also positioned as an agent of radical change. As the shock of modernity disrupted the human condition, it also became the driving force behind an ideological utopia — one that ultimately deformed into political totalitarianism — a paradox that remains unresolved.

OSTRANENIE plays within this contradiction. The music shifts seamlessly between an uncanny black MIDI dismantling of traditional piano virtuosity and moments of raw, fragile intimacy. The result is a work that resists automatic anonymity while questioning what it means to create in an era where the technological mediation of sound — and experience itself — is unavoidable: Art in the age of its technological constructedness.

U.K. progressive post-rock supergroup Crippled Black Phoenix is a musical collective that has featured nearly 30 members in it's rotating roster. The constant driving force is multi- instrumentalist Justin Greaves (Electric Wizard, Iron Monkey Se Delan), who formed the band in 2004 with Mogwai bassist Dominic Aitchison. Creating what they describe as "endtime ballads" to signify both the slightly macabre nature of their songs & the unusual blend of styles as the final evolution in music. The band have made live shows a focus by performing in unusual venues across the world as well as using Victorian-era instruments in tandem with more modern instruments, often involving more than a dozen members onstage. In 2006, Crippled Black Phoenix released their first album, 'A Love Of Shared Disasters', followed in 2009 by 'The Resurrectionists' & 'Night Raider', but it was their fourth album released in 2010 on Invada Records - 'I, Vigilante' - an album of uncompromising soundscapes that garnered the band & album widespread critical acclaim within the media worldwide. On 'I, Vigilante', CBP create songs that feel both sky-crackingly epic & intimate at the same time. "We Forgotten Who We Are" is an 11 minute thundering storm which powers through sections of head-nodding chugging guitars to a sunrise of happy melody & back, "Fantastic Justice" is a staggering display of songwriting, with twists & turns that make the band sound like a mini orchestra - horns, strings, crashes & swoons with Greaves the dark conductor. The spoken-word opening to "Bastogne Blues" is perfectly evocative for a genuinely troubled song, CBP's command of bleakness is at it's strongest here; cinematic doesn't come close to describing the song's emotional resonance. When 'I, Vigilante' threatens to disintegrate into a black hole of misery, a faithfully screaming version of Journey's "Of A Lifetime" shows a sense of humour & some sweet guitar tones. This edition of 'I, Vigilante' is presented on black vinyl LP & is the first time the album has been released on single vinyl

Corrosiv, the sophomore album from Orchestroll, reveals the duo at their most mature and vulnerable. Originally conceived as a reflection on hybridity and bastardization, the album deploys New Age and ambient compositional tropes as a launchpad, exposing their trite sanctity to the realities of corrosion. Having come of age in the 1970s and 1980s, the New Age movement perdures today as a domain of contradictions; its promise of transcendence riddled with the very commercialized dogma from which its adherents claim to flee. Healing modalities such as reiki, crystal therapy, and sound baths are simultaneously pathways to solace and sites of exploitation; their sonic counterparts—ethereal synth pads, shimmering textures, celestial drones—claim to facilitate meditation and enlightenment while devolving into empty signifiers of vitality. With Corrosiv, Orchestroll displays neither reverence nor disdain toward New Age: they exhume it instead, revealing the saccharine effervescence and commodified murk undergirding its aesthetics. The result is intoxicating—disquieting.

Born from a two-week residency at EMS Studios and expanded through a performance at MUTEK Montreal’s 25th anniversary, Corrosiv has since outgrown its original conceptual nucleus, taking on a broader scope. Its inquiry into New Age ideology’s voided rhetoric and aesthetic mysticism now informs a broader interrogation of cultural mediocrity, anti-authoritarianism, gatekeeping, music industry toxicity, and the crumbling edifice of late capitalism and techno-feudalism—all the mechanisms by which meaning is stripped from ceremony, and once-potent forms of knowledge are subsumed into the machinery of economic extraction, severed from their original essence, and transformed into hollow simulacra. Corrosiv distills these themes through a loose narrative: a soul, fixated on wellness as dictated by cosmetic economism, becomes ensnared in an endless afterlife, unable to transcend and shed its dilapidated consciousness.

Framed as an act of audio dissolution, the album thus engages in an alchemical process, whereby complex waveshaping, morphing synthesis, and distortion enact a ritual of fragmentation. There is also friction: between the rigid, mechanical imposition of systematized order and the untamed, chaotic force of organic metamorphosis. Here corrosion and confinement are not solely conceptual motifs; they are enacted in real time, sculpting the album’s terrain. Scraping, tarnishing, degradation—the languid wear of form and substance—become instruments in their own right: buffing as abrasion, entrapment as transformation, corrosion as a means of reconfiguration. The ‘protagonist,’ if there must be one, is the listener, caught within the throes of structural determinism and the potential for emancipation, unable to pass into something greater as the specters of collapsed futures accumulate in the margins.

Corrosiv extends its reach through collaborations with familiar voices: Heith (PAN), VISIO (Haunter), Femminielli (Drowned by Locals), Habib Bardi (Interzone), and Jiyoung Wi (Enmossed, Psychic Liberation, Doyenne) each leave their imprint on its sprawling landscape. At 1h16m, it is a procession, dense with earworms that burrow into the listener’s unconscious.

Misshapen, broken-down metals leach copper into blood, acid reflux burning through the core. Psyche disaggregates into cosmic turmoil, drifting between planes—tongue on rustline, gullet laced with solvent hymns, molars unlatching, bitcrushed to marrowspill. A spasm of brine, ferrous scripture, venomtext blooming in leaden rivulets, cartilage smoldering in phosphor decomposition, synapses drowning in a quicksilver choir. Crest of bile, churning ore, breath clotting into arsenic mist, vein-thread cinched, a corrosive gospel, limb by limb, oxidized to silence.

Ultimately, as the music exhales its final breath, its residue refuses to dissipate—and stillness alone remains. There are no conclusions here—no resolution, no collapse—only the slow drift outward of a vessel unmoored, lost in the sea of symbolic souring. Corrosiv sings the song of a world barren of prophecy, littered with aesthetic detritus. Whether this magic has been transfigured or simply worn away is unclear: the last breath dissipates, but the oxidation does not stop. The silence, too, will decay.

Conceptualized, composed, performed, recorded, mixed, engineered and produced by Jesse Osborne-Lanthier, and Asaël Richard-Robitaille in 2023 and 2024 at Elektron Musik Studion (EMS) - Stockholm, Sweden and Landsc8pe Studio - Montréal, QC, Canada.
Artwork by Jesse Osborne-Lanthier.
Mastered by Stephan Mathieu @ Schwebung Mastering.

La Pambelé Unveils Nací Mestizo, A Bold New Album Reviving Salsa with a Contemporary Twist Bogotá’s heavy guaguancó orchestra, La Pambelé, proudly presents their highlyanticipated second studio album, Nací Mestizo, now available on all major digital platforms as of November 27th. This album pays tribute to the golden era of salsa, particularly the 1970s, while breathing new life into the genre with modern lyrics and stories that resonate deeply with Latin communities.

All while maintaining a distinct Bogotan essence that highlights the city’s unique cultural flavor. Nací Mestizo seamlessly blends the timeless salsa brava sound with contemporary themes, reflecting the everyday lives of people across Latin neighborhoods. The album’s songs capture the struggles, passions, and joys of ordinary people, presented through the vibrant rhythms of salsa, creating a musical experience that connects the past with the present. Building on Their Rising Popularity Prior to the album’s release, La Pambelé debuted the singles “Amargura” and “Perdí mi Corazón”, which quickly captivated audiences and set the stage for the full album's success. The band’s electric performance of these tracks at the MedPlus Coliseum in Bogotá, before an audience of 22,000 attendees awaiting Marc Anthony, was met with enthusiasm as fans danced and applauded.

This moment marked a significant milestone for the orchestra, cementing their place as a rising force in the global salsa scene. Additionally, La Pambelé’s growing visibility has been marked by their appearances at major festivals such as Salsa al Parque and features on prominent radio stations, including Radio Nacional de Colombia and Latina Stereo. These platforms have helped introduce La Pambelé’s signature sound to a wider audience, building anticipation for the release of Nací Mestizo and reaffirming their influence in Colombia’s tropical and alternative music scenes. A Contemporary Salsa Sound with Classic Roots La Pambelé’s unique blend of traditional salsa brava and contemporary Latin storytelling is showcased through their distinctive nine-piece orchestra, which includes piano, conga, flute, trumpet, trombone, timbales, bongos, and baby bass. The dynamic vocals of Miguel RoRebolledo and Lorena Contento elevate the album’s themes, creating a sound that invites listeners to their feet and onto the dance floor. Under the direction of Camilo Toro Morato, the orchestra has honed its signature style, pushing the boundaries of salsa while staying true to its roots. As a proud defiance of stereotypes about Bogotá’s musical abilities, La Pambelé’s name pays homage to legendary Colombian boxer Kid Pambelé, symbolizing resilience and strength.

The name also draws from the Bantú language, meaning "defender of one's own," reinforcing the band’s connection to their Colombian heritage and pride in their distinctive sound. Global Recognition and Continuing Influence Since the release of their self-titled debut album in 2022, La Pambelé has gained international recognition, especially within the vinyl collector community. Theirdebut album was released in both 45” and LP vinyl editions, further solidifying their unique position in the contemporary salsa movement. Influenced by salsa greats such as Markolino Dimond, Eddie Palmieri, Edy Martínez, and Ismael Miranda, La Pambelé has carried forward the torch of salsa brava with passion and innovation. Nací Mestizo marks a significant evolution in the orchestra’s journey, melding the old and the new, and cementing La Pambelé as a driving force in the future of salsa music. A Collector’s Dream With their 2022 debut album garnering international recognition, La Pambelé’s vinyl releases—including 45” and LP editions—have become coveted items for salsa collectors worldwide. Their music is a bridge between classic salsa traditions and a modern vision, appealing to seasoned fans and new listeners alike. About La Pambelé La Pambelé is a heavy guaguancó orchestra from Bogotá, Colombia, known for their vibrant, rhythm-driven sound that blends 1970s salsa brava with modern Latin influences. With a unique nine-piece lineup and powerful vocals, the band continues to break boundaries, defying expectations and inspiring audiences around the world

La Flemme is a dynamic quartet from Marseille, blending garage pop and psychedelic vibes. Comprised of Jules, Stella, Charles, and Ronie, they formed with a goal to release their debut album, La Fête, on April 25th, With their energetic sound and introspective tracks, La Flemme embodies the raw spirit of Marseille, marking their arrival as a vibrant force in the French rock scene. "La FLEMME emerges like a colorful whirlwind on the French musical landscape, drawing its audience into a universe where garage pop sounds, psychedelic textures and undeniable nervous energy mingle. Hailing from Marseille, this group of young musicians has already left its mark on the floors of French concert halls, each having previously explored the world of music within various projects. Jules, Stella, Charles and Ronie, respectively associated with Technopolice, Flathead, Tense of Fools and Avenoir, Tessina joined forces after a lazy night, deciding to create a new musical entity together. Their initial goal was simple: to get on stage for a concert within the next two months. And the result lived up to their aspirations: catchy tunes, imbued with the frenetic energy of garage rock and the desire for psychedelic sound exploration, etched in the auditory memory of their audience. La FLEMME unveiled a self-titled debut EP in 2024, with the hit tracks "Somnifères" and "Bruxisme". They now return with an album entitled "La Fête", due April 25, 2025 on EXAG' Records. "

Cie embarks on a new sonic expedition with "Adventures II," the successor to the original journey, continuing the musical quest with great intensity and energy.
As the music begins, “Reichenstein” rises on the horizon like a majestic mountain peak, growing ever more imposing as you draw closer. Upon arrival, the towering presence of the castle welcomes you with its raw power. The beat pulses like a force of nature, its multi-layered rhythms and vibrant sounds pulling every dance enthusiast into its depths, much like an adventurer scaling the heights of the mountain itself.
The journey continues through the mystic halls of the castle, leading to "Der Turm".
Here, hypnotic synths scale the tower's heights, while deep pulsating basses push against every wall.
From there, the mountain “Stenzelberg” comes into view, casting its groovy shadows ahead as the next stop on the adventure. Upon reaching the summit, you are immediately drawn into the mountain’s spell by the power of its percussive sounds.
But the journey doesn't end there - deep within the winding gorges, Mar io awaits, leading you through hidden corners and secret paths of the mountain with his powerful remix, finally releasing the soul of the mountain. Four electrifying tracks - perfect companions for any club adventure - are ready to carry you on your own journey. Vinyl only.

What happens when you combine SUMAC: a band that uses the volume, distortion, and guitar-centric approach of metal to make music that has the malleability of jazz and textural exploration of noise with Moor Mother: a poet and sound artist that has deconstructed hip hop to a point where it"s less about rhyme and rhythm (though obviously both are present in her work) and more about oratorical cadence and power.

The Film is an album that takes attributes of both artists" work and finds common ground in shifting musical patterns, and expressive force. The record is a musical thumbing of their noses at the more traditional approaches of their respective fields, an innovative, powerhouse of an album. The Film"s moniker speaks to the fact that it is conceived and delivered as a complete album, a full story or narrative. Moor Mother puts it best: "The idea is to create a moment outside of the convention. This is a work of art.

Thinking about the work as a Film, instead of an album or a collection of songs. This task is impossible in an industry that wants to force everything into a box of consumption. You won"t understand or get the full picture until the artwork is completed. This work is developing and is requesting more agency within the creative process." The Film is just such a work, a nebulitic collaboration between SUMAC and Moor Mother.

"Acid Floresta" is the result of a process of sonic recognition and translation. A term that has taken shape over the past few years to name a search that, in reality, began more than a decade ago: the intersection between foreign rhythms and the music that inhabits the streets, with its social dynamics and its irreducible vitality.



This album is born from the observation and listening of the everyday sounds that shape the sonic identity of the neighborhood: the corner store, the metro, the billiard hall, the street corner. Spaces where music is not a choice but a constant pulse of life. The percussion of the street, the echo of a distant radio, the spontaneous phrasing of a conversation—these become raw material. From there, the process moves to the studio, where bass, synthesizers, drum machines, and samplers serve as tools of translation: what begins as a documentation of reality transforms into a musical interpretation.



At this point, a tension emerges between what is learned and what is felt. For years, tropical music and vallenato were part of a sonic landscape that coexisted with external influences, generating both distance and affinity. But within that push and pull—between the familiar and the unknown—a common thread was revealed: sabor. Not as a genre, but as an essence, a vital and irreplace able force.



"Acid Floresta" is structured in three and the performative stage, where music returns to the streets, closing the cycle. It is in this final moment that its true nature emerges: in the shared vibration, in danceability, in what connects beyond geography and context.

The album proposes a dialogue between intimacy and collective experimentation, between latineo and electronic music, between the raw and the processed. A space where the music of the streets and the music of the floresta converge to create a new sonic memory.

"No sign of Rotten Leaves" is Selma French's second album and draws inspiration from life's paradoxes.

Selma French is a songwriter and musician renowned and revered within the Norwegian folk scene. She grew up with traditional music and has played and created music all her life. Her musical inspirations include Linda Perhacs, Nick Drake, Judee Sill, Frøkedal, Sundfør and Sandy Denny.

Her debut album Changes Like the Weather in the Mountain was released in 2022 to critical acclaim and was ranked among the top Norwegian albums of 2022 by notable Norwegian newspapers such as Dagsavisen and Aftenposten. In the fall of 2024, she did a lot of touring in the UK together with Euros Childs (Gorky’s Zygotic Mynci / Teenage Fanclub).

Selma has also toured extensively throughout Scandinavia and is a member of the bands such as Masåva, Frøkedal & Familien - (with whom she toured in the UK as special guests of Teenage Fanclub), Sondre Lerche and Norwegian Grammy award winners Morgonrode. Her music is widely recognized in her native country and has recently featured as the theme song in the hit Viaplay T.V series Furia.

Her music reflects an admiration for Norwegian and English folk music and is infused with an airy, enigmatic energy. Her rich landscape of guitars, wurlitzer, fiddles and high pitched choir voices manages to convey a roar of frustration, obscure portraits of the present and a gathering force of hope.

For their second album 'The Foel Tower', Quade holed up in an old stone barn in the cradle of a Welsh mountain valley.
The valley was a stark and windswept backdrop with little daylight, as the band would huddle around crackling fires each evening. “There was very much a feeling of being on the complete fringes of society,” the band says. “The last vestiges of settlement before the unrelenting barren moors that loomed over us.”
It was an environment that would shape the band – a Bristol four piece made up of Barney Matthews, Leo Fini, Matt Griffiths and Tom Connolly – and the record they have made. It’s an album that is as dreamy as it is melancholic, and as quiet and tender as it is forceful and potent – gliding across genres like winds blowing over those wide-spanning Welsh hills – to arrive at something the band half-jokingly, yet somewhat accurately, describe as “doomer sad boy, ambient-dub, folk, experimental post-rock.”

Quade is a band but it’s also a very close-knit group that have been friends since childhood who use this musical vehicle for interpersonal explorations and connections. “We’ve individually experienced a lot of difficulty over the last several years and Quade has represented a space to shelter from these,” the band says. “This means we often communicate extensively with each other about the issues affecting us individually and collectively. These conversations and concerns are central to The Foel Tower.”

In many ways, the making of this record – or any Quade record – goes way deeper than the simple writing, construction and recording of music. It is a profoundly deep and meaningful experience. “A key theme of the album relates to why we connect with specific places in the way that we do,” the group says. “We often remove ourselves to isolated valleys, sheltered from some of the painful personal struggles that we have experienced as a band. These become spaces in which we collectively purge ourselves of some of these difficulties hoping to make Quade a physical and emotional place of solace. This album celebrates these places that we’ve been able to retreat to and recuperate.”

It is a deep, dense record that is stuffed with musical, cinematic and literary influences – from Ursula La Guin and Cormac MacCarthy through to RS Thomas and Yeats – but despite the heavy, introspective and anxious nature of some of the material, it is also a record that is remarkably deft, agile and considered.

Made with producer Jack Ogborne and mixer Larry ‘Bruce’ McCarthy, there is a pleasing duality to the final sound of the record. One that feels fragile and intimate but also powerful and forceful, as introspective as it is expansive, and a record that is as detailed and textured as it is wide open and spacious.

The album title also pays homage to the place that shaped it so greatly. Within this remote Welsh valley stands the Foel Tower, a stone structure filled with valves and cylinders that can raise and lower the level of the reservoir to draw off water. Which it can then send as far as 70 miles to Birmingham. However, in the late 1800s this land was occupied by local farmers and families in the hundreds until the British Government acquired the land, cleared the valleys, and promptly displaced them in order to begin serving the vastly expanding industrial English city. The band dug into the history and politics of this and wove it into the themes they were already thinking about, using what the Foel Tower stands for as something of a contemporary metaphor. “This tension was something that we wanted to explore without the haughty judgement of our more metropolitan lifestyles,” they say. “And to explore how this specifically relates to ourselves: how can we envisage a genuinely ecological future for ourselves – one that is accessible, affordable and in harmony with endangered rural practices.”

What makes The Foel Tower such an incredible record is that it feels born of a time, place and situation that only existed in that very moment. It’s a snapshot of those 10 days spent in rural Wales and all the feelings and anxieties the band were experiencing at that specific time, magically caught on tape. “The album very much feels tied to this valley for us and the conversations and experiences we shared there,” they say. “It brings up a great deal of poignancy for us, an emblem of some fleeting respite from the strains we all have to experience. But there’s also deep sadness knowing how transient these moments are – in fact, there’s just a great deal of sadness in this album. But it’s also a record that while personal, resigned, and emotionally burdened, is ultimately hopeful.”