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On April 7th electronic luminary Nathan Fake presents the new longplayer ‘Crystal Vision’ on his own Cambria Instruments imprint, which features collaborations with Clark and Wizard Apprentice.

This is music for music’s sake – recorded without angles, agendas and themes – so Fake was free to simply continue honing his craft and express himself non-literally. Aptly titled, there’s a clarity of execution and ambition, and a peak effectiveness to the record that just sounds right.

Continuing to set a personal bar higher and topping his own best, the mark of master craftsperson is everywhere, but that doesn’t mean it’s polished; There’s plenty of rawness evident, with spiky sonics keeping ears on high alert – full of endorphin-flooded rave energy.

Following a short, scene-setting ‘Arrival’ – a simple major chord arpeggio played on a Jupiter 6 which sounds like curtains opening at dawn, things begin apace with ‘The Grass’, which hurtles like a precision-tuned bullet train through Arctic tundra. The undulating effect of compression is emphasised by the classic techno trope where 2 rhythms jar yet interlock, creating an exquisitely disorientating strobe-like flutter. On the track’s guest, Fake comments, “I fell in love with Wizard Apprentice's ‘I Am Invisible’ and felt our musical styles were similar. Their vocals are smooth and clear and sharp at the same time. They’re like a calm within the storm.”

Inspired by Italo disco but sounding wholly alien and futuristic, ‘Vimana’’s fizzing buzzsaw arpeggiated bassline, popping snares and bright whirling melody are equally an electro trance melange, with an effervescent major chord Arp that kicks in midway.

Reminiscent of what used to be called ‘funky techno’ but with sparklier sounds, ‘Boss Core’ blinds like sunshine bouncing off ice. Using his trusty Boss DR550 drum machine, and inspired by Autechre's ‘Vose In’, the track peaks by reaching that melancholic/euphoric axis for which he is loved.

With chugging slow breakbeats not a million miles from Board Of Canada or trip hop, ‘Crystal Vision’ rolls along, with the melody opening up, revealing more hidden notes as it progresses, building into a fractal, kaleidoscopic mosaic.

An emotional outpouring with serotonin surging through the circuitry, classic breakbeats and layers of lazers, ‘Bibled’ has all the hallmarks of a classic. This is a bonafide festival-set closing, hugging-your-mates, moment – or, with its guitar solo, “a power ballad” – as Nathan calls it.

A minimalistic moment of calm midway through the album, ‘CMD’’s gently comforting dreamscape is conjured with FM stacked and detuned sine waves which are left to breathe, whilst the chunky Chicagoan house jack of ‘Hawk’ brings to mind classic Relief records, but even more detuned and wibbly, and laden with synths.

As the title suggests, ‘Amen 96’ is in Fake’s own words, “me having a go at jungle. I grew up listening to it, and I remember as a teenager it sounded like the most intense and otherworldly music ever. It still does. This track is an experiment to see how my melodic style works against amen breaks”. Closer to the braindance end of the spectrum than ‘proper’ jungle (and all the more interesting for it), Fake channels the spirit of Squarepusher but makes it his own, brimming with melodious twinkle.

A collaboration with Nathan’s close friend and genuine musical hero Clark. ‘Outsider’ finds this dream team alchemising pure gold that’s bigger than the sum of their parts. Skittering, intense, far-reaching end epic, the pair close proceedings on a grandly dramatic note. In 2020 Nathan released the album ‘Blizzards’, which was described by The Quietus as “his best work”, and “his best LP yet” yet by Resident Advisor. The equally well received ‘Blizzards Remixes’ EP which featured Afrodeutsche and Irene Dresel followed in 2021, as did a nationwide UK tour.

An in-demand remixer, Fake has added his magic to tracks by Radiohead, Clark, Perc, Jon Hopkins, GoGo Penguin, Dominik Eulberg, Christian Löffler and Damian Lazarus, working for labels including Ninja Tune, Domino, Warp, Blue Note and Kompakt.

Warped vision; the time spill is source of our distortia, in recognition we recalibrate. It neither predicts an age nor remembers an era, the function is the flow - not parallel but actual. The set points swim in a fever dream, a pink mist which echoes both signal and version. Detangled, decrypted, explained - it could be primal truth, except for endless reality...New message from the Mirror Zone, signals here cast by DJ Ungel who summons mystic breakbeat and shamanic acid from deep fractal wells of pan-consciousness. Charged mantras echo and gate amongst pulsating Megadog trance, whilst waves of ERP and Stinsonian electro roll into the ambient dub of Higher Intelligence Agency, Universal Egg, and other Artificial Intelligence like Banco De Gaia and Sandoz

Up next on Terrazzo we've got Remotif, Jay Gadian, Reflex Blue and Wilt shuttling us through the sound spectrum with ' A Really Good' compilation of wonky tech, trippy prog and acid house.

Third Limited 12″vinyl release on Moving Rhythms by Norwell, GGGG & Foreign Sequence and FracTAL.

Parquet Recordings is proud to present their 14th edition of the PARQUET MOST WANTED EP series. Another masterclass collection of Melodic House & Techno productions by Solee, Oliver Winters, Alyne and Rinzen & Evan Casey. Enjoy!

B. Chamber (Stratum A), by B. Close, is the first full length solo release by Los Angeles-based multi-disciplinary artist Brian Close. The first of two volumes assembled from some thirteen hours of music produced by Close while residing in Connecticut from 2021-2025, B. Chamber (Stratum A) offers a vivid, fractal afterimage of a prolific, specific time and space in the artist’s oeuvre.

After leaving New York City early in the pandemic to a farmhouse in the countryside with dedicated spaces for multiple sound stations, Close developed an intensive daily practice of melding with the machines. The vast, pastoral backdrop of rural CT provided inspiration and contrast for his ongoing investigations into dynamic, poly-rhythmic electronic music. The sounds on B. Chamber (Stratum A) range from the machine-modeling of acoustic instruments and natural environments to the utterly unhuman, spinning on the axis between crystalline, pointillist precision and shifty blown-cone distortion. Close’s atypical interpretations of rhythm, noise and other undefined musics land in a hybrid zone of their own.

Throughout B. Chamber (Stratum A), Close’s productions are in perpetual motion. Foxtrot’s shifting hi-hats and disembodied voices rise like cicadas propelled by glitching machines and tangled rhythms, Many Drive draws momentum from dubby stabs and twinkling atmospherics. Character Community’s nimble, drifting snares and erratic static are uplifted by swelling synths, and Mpan’s modular mining forgoes drums but is no less propulsive for it. Acre Voices’ seasick pads and deft drum patterns tap an energizing nerve, and closer 5D Bow’s ambush of pummeling machine gun fire spirals into the tryptamine palace and emerges completely rinsed and refreshed.

Equally powerful in the club as in the outdoors, in the headphones eyes closed or on the move, B. Chamber (Stratum A) grants an immersive temporary trip on B. Close’s unique wavelength, with Stratum B to complete the picture in the summer of 2026.

RIYL - Mark Fell, muay thai, Vladislav Delay, gaming, Errorsmith, modular synthesizer.

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Brian Close (b. 1979, NYC) uses the cold logic of mathematics to trigger states of total sensory displacement. Close co-founded multiple AV studios to explore the "hypnotic"—a ritualistic practice of motional-graphism and improvisational sound. His work is a study in synesthesia and the architecture of trance, using geometric precision to dissolve the sense of time. It is a digital-visceral experience built on heavy logic, designed for large-scale immersion and timelessness.

Close is one half of Georgia who have released records on Palto Flats, Firecracker Recordings, Meakusma, Youth, OOH-Sounds and EM Records, and have a long-running residency on NTS.

B. Chamber was written, produced and mixed by Brian Close.
Mastered by Rashad Becker.
Artwork by Brian Close.

Little is known about the origins of this project, grasping the curiosity of many 90's trance diggers, this mysterious EP was originally released in 1994 on the now defunct London based label ITP Recordings. Presenting 3 tracks that dive deep into the trancy electronics of the time, going well into the 8 minutes marker on each track the producer takes the time to allow a pallet of atmospheric qualities to gently grow and layer themselves throughout. A very unique aural signature, almost as if fractals had a sound, organised in a highly effective manner for the psychedelic electronic music inclined dancefloor.

The British electronic and sibling duo, Disclosure celebrate 5 years since the release of their third studio album ENERGY.



For this album Disclosure shifted towards a more rhythmic and percussion focused sound, taking influence from UK house, garage, hip hop and world music.



It showcases a diverse range of vocal collaborations including Kelis, Channel Tres, Mick Jenkins, Fatoumata Diawara, Blick Bassy, Kehlani, Syd, and Common.



ENERGY was nominated for Best Dance/Electronic Album at the 63rd Annual Grammy Awards and the single "My High" was nominated for the Grammy Award for Best Dance Recording at the 2021 Grammy Awards. It is BPI certified Silver in the UK.



This 5th anniversary 1LP will now be available for the first time on limited edition Zoetrope, housed in a single die cut sleeve. Designed by Drew Tetz, each side of the zoetrope is inspired by the original album artwork, using the water and the clouds imagery to create lifelike movement with these earth elements.

Una interpretación de Soinuarenbidea II debería partir de esta premisa: todo es posible, nada es aleatorio, y en sí mismo es un imposible de aleatoriedades. El escenario planteado explora la idea de realidad aumentada desde una percepción sonora, ambiental y colectiva. La obra transita hacia adelante y hacia atrás recreando experiencias extintas de porvenir incierto, tratando de facilitar un fin pacificador. Cada pieza sonora se crea, se despliega, se repliega y se destruye, en una torsión permanente de toda la realidad que hace posible cada fragmento musical, cada identidad acústica, cada espacio sonoro. Lo onírico, la ficción, y el viaje están continuamente presentes, y es en el transitar de cada fragmento donde se produce el diálogo de la exposición musical. Los elementos de esta ficción se recrean continuamente, en un continuum donde se entrelazan y se van contorsionando a medida que crecen o decrecen con cada fragmento de síntesis concreta. Los temas explícitamente musicales son el magma que conduce a dar voluptuosidad al disco, siendo la piel un contexto o límite que en sí mismo fluctúa indefinidamente en texturas y configuraciones posibles. Y la urdimbre del silencio es la síntesis que está continuamente presente y que trata de cohesionar los fragmentos en continua colisión expresiva. Las grabaciones de campo proporcionan el material sonoro concreto, y como un fractal sonoro cada una de ellas ofrece diferentes grados de interpretación que a su vez conduce a nuevos fragmentos y nuevas creaciones. Así que se puede pensar que esta es una síntesis de una posible realidad, pero interpretable en infinidad de maneras. Un movimiento y una estaticidad implícitas que generan estructuras y dinámicas acústicas. Lo que se escucha no es real, pero en sí mismo forma parte de la realidad, creando un escenario expectante. Lo cinematográfico, plástico y teatral, danzante y dinámico cobra importancia en este juego, porque se trata de contar una historia, una experiencia recreada desde los puntos de vista del arte visual. Es a su vez hilo conductor y entretenimiento, discurso político y puro divertimento. Es desde este espacio de convivencia artística que tiene sentido la totalidad y justifica el formato sonoro planteado. La contradicción de la obra es patente en el formato, y es a su vez el planteamiento de una accidentalidad en el devenir vital. Contenedor de Ruido recoge todas estas contradicciones y las manifiesta en la obra Soinuarenbidea II. Es una historia sonora, es un cuento acústico. Es un fragmento de vitalidad en imágenes audibles. Es una invitación a la reflexión, a la crítica, al disfrute, a la meditación, a la celebración. Y sobre todo es esperanzadora apreciación de la realidad como algo maleable que confeccionamos colectivamente, que requiere de una paciente observación y la participación colectiva global, en un mundo finito pleno de diversidades y del que ignoramos prácticamente todo, al que deberíamos volver con respeto y devoción.

Soinuarenbidea II-ren interpretazio batek premisa honetatik abiatu beharko luke: dena da posible, ezer ez da ausazkoa, eta, berez, ausazkotasun ezinezko bat da. Planteatutako agertokiak errealitate areagotuaren ideia aztertzen du, soinu-, ingurumen- eta talde-pertzepzio batetik abiatuta. Lanak aurrera eta atzera egiten du, etorkizun zalantzagarriko esperientzia desagertuak birsortuz eta helburu baketsua lortzen saiatuz. Soinu-pieza bakoitza sortu, hedatu, tolestu eta suntsitu egiten da, musika-zati bakoitza, identitate akustiko bakoitza eta soinu-espazio bakoitza ahalbidetzen dituen errealitate osoaren etengabeko bihurdura batean. Onirikoa, fikzioa eta bidaia etengabe daude presente, eta pasarte bakoitzaren joan-etorrian gertatzen da musika-erakusketaren elkarrizketa. Fikzio honen elementuak etengabe birsortzen dira, continuum batean, non sintesi zati zehatz bakoitzarekin hazi edo txikitu ahala elkar lotzen eta bihurritzen diren. Esplizituki musikalak diren gaiak diskoari atsegintasuna ematera eramaten duen magma dira, azala testuingurua edo muga izanik, testura eta konfigurazio posibleetan mugarik gabe aldatzen dena. Eta isiltasunaren irazkia etengabe presente dagoen sintesia da, zatiak etengabeko adierazpen-talkan kohesionatzen saiatzen dena. Landa-grabazioek soinu-material zehatza ematen dute, eta soinu-fraktal batek bezala, horietako bakoitzak interpretazio-maila desberdinak eskaintzen ditu, eta horrek, aldi berean, zati eta sorkuntza berrietara eramaten du. Beraz, pentsa daiteke errealitate posible baten sintesia dela, baina hamaika modutan interpreta daitekeena. Egitura eta dinamika akustikoak sortzen dituzten mugimendu eta estatikotasun inplizitu bat. Entzuten dena ez da erreala, baina, berez, errealitatearen parte da, eta agertoki espektakularra sortzen du. Zinematografikoak, plastikoak eta antzerkikoak, dantzariak eta dinamikoak garrantzia hartzen dute joko honetan, ikusizko artearen ikuspegitik birsortutako istorio bat, esperientzia bat, kontatzea baita helburua. Aldi berean, hari gidaria eta entretenimendua da, diskurtso politikoa eta dibertimendu hutsa. Elkarbizitzarako espazio artistiko honetatik osotasunak zentzua du eta planteatutako soinu-formatua justifikatzen du. Obraren kontraesana nabarmena da formatuan, eta, aldi berean, bizi-bilakaeran istripu-tasa bat planteatzea da. Zarata-edukiontziak kontraesan horiek guztiak jasotzen ditu eta Soinuarenbidea II obran adierazten ditu. Soinu istorio bat da, ipuin akustiko bat. Bizitasun zati bat da, irudi entzungarrietan. Hausnarketarako, kritikarako, gozamenerako, meditaziorako eta ospakizunerako gonbidapena da. Eta, batez ere, itxaropentsua da errealitatea modu kolektiboan egiten dugun gauza xaflakor gisa hautematea, behaketa pazientea eta partaidetza kolektibo globala eskatzen dituena, dibertsitatez betetako mundu mugatu batean, ia guztia kontuan hartzen ez duguna, eta errespetuz eta debozioz itzuli beharko genukeena.

An interpretation of Soinuarenbidea II should start from this premise: everything is possible, nothing is random, and in itself is an impossible randomness. The proposed scenario explores the idea of ​​augmented reality from a sonic, environmental, and collective perception. The work moves back and forth, recreating extinct experiences of an uncertain future, seeking to facilitate a peaceful end. Each sound piece is created, unfolds, retreats, and is destroyed, in a permanent twisting of all reality that makes each musical fragment, each acoustic identity, each sonic space possible. The dreamlike, the fictional, and the journey are continually present, and it is in the transit of each fragment that the dialogue of the musical exposition takes place. The elements of this fiction are continually recreated, in a continuum where they intertwine and contort as they grow or diminish with each fragment of concrete synthesis. The explicitly musical themes are the magma that leads to the work's voluptuousness, the skin being a context or boundary that in itself fluctuates indefinitely in possible textures and configurations. And the warp of silence is the synthesis that is continually present and seeks to unite the fragments in a continuous expressive collision. The field recordings provide the concrete sound material, and like a sonic fractal, each one offers different degrees of interpretation that in turn lead to new fragments and new creations. So one can think of this as a synthesis of a possible reality, but interpretable in an infinite number of ways. An implicit movement and staticity that generate acoustic structures and dynamics. What is heard is not real, but in itself is part of reality, creating an expectant scenario. The cinematic, plastic and theatrical, dance and dynamic aspects take on importance in this game, because it is about telling a story, an experience recreated from the perspective of visual art. It is at once a common thread and entertainment, political discourse and pure entertainment. It is from this space of artistic coexistence that the whole makes sense and justifies the proposed sound format. The contradiction of the work is evident in its format, and it is, in turn, the presentation of an accidentality in the course of life. Noise Container gathers all these contradictions and manifests them in the work Soinuarenbidea II. It is a sound story, an acoustic tale. It is a fragment of vitality in audible images. It is an invitation to reflection, to critique, to enjoyment, to meditation, to celebration. And above all, it is a hopeful appreciation of reality as something malleable that we collectively craft, requiring patient observation and global collective participation, in a finite world full of diversity and of which we know practically nothing, to which we should return with respect and devotion.

Paisajes sonoros, diseño sonoro, drones y música grabada, realizada y arreglada para Contenedor de Ruido por David Aranaz. Coro: Basandere Ahotsak. Producido y mezclado por David Aranaz. Mástering: Estanis Elorza. Fotografía: David Aranaz. Texto: David Aranaz. Traducción: Saioa Aranaz Oreja. Trabajo y Diseño artístico: Cristina Martinez. Edición: Contenedor de Ruido Producciones y Sarbide Music. Distribución: Contenedor de Ruido.

Contenedor de Ruido agradece el apoyo en la realización de Soinuarenbidea II al coro Basandere Ahotsak y en especial a Eva Orbara Goicoa.

Soinuarenbidea II está dedicado al pueblo palestino.

Paisajes y objetos Sonoros, samplers y otras músicas transformadas para Soinuarenbidea II
Burlada: Paseos sonoros matinales por Merindad de Sangüesa, Calle Mayor, Capuchinas, Parque Uranga y varias iglesias y plazas. Pasajes del cotidiano: basura de papel, cristal y plástico.
Pamplona: Cementerio de San José. CEIP Sanduzelai /// Quinto Real: Fábrica de Armas, Puerto de Urkiaga y alrededores. Suite del silencio, bosques en movimiento /// Fábrica de armas de Orbaiceta: regatas, biosques, paseo sonoro hasta regata /// Belate: Puerto de Belate y alrededores. Vacas en pradera junto a las turberas /// Bardenas Reales: Suite de guitarra y Suite del silencio, estepa desértica /// Austria: Tranvías de Graz y Viena. Muchedumbre del metro de Viena.
Voces cinematográficas de: Matanza en Texas, Robocop, Espíritu Sagrado, Solo los Amantes Sobreviven, Voces de Gaza, Yojimbo, Terciopelo Azul, Los 7 Magníficos.
La pista A2 está dedicada a la memoria de David Lynch.
La pista B4 está dedicada a Eva Orbara Goicoa.
Pista A4: Contiene interpretaciones de piano de Three Piano Pieces Op.11 de Arnold Schoenberg.
Pista A5: Es una interpretación expandida con síntesis FM del Concerto Op. 24 - Etwas lebhaft - de Anton Webern.
Pista A7: Contiene la canción Besarkatu ninduzun (Letra de Josune López y música de Josu Elberdin) en interpretación de Basandere Ahotsak en la iglesia de Burutain bajo la tormenta.
Pista B2: Contiene la canción Recuerdos de la Alhambra (Fernando Tárrega) en interpretación torsionada de David Aranaz Sarasa.
Pista B14: Contiene la canción Agur María (Letra y Música de Estíbaliz Robles “Estitxu” y arreglo exclusivo de Alfonso Ortiz para Basandere Ahotsak) en interpretación de Basandere Ahotsak.

Equipamiento para Soinuarenbidea II.
Micros de condensador SE7, configuración XY y ORTF; Micros de cinta ORTIZ LUTHIER configuración XY y Blumlein; Grabadoras MARANTZ y ZOOM; Sintetizadores y samplers Elektron MONOMACHINE SPS-1, MACHINEDRUM SFX6 y MODEL:SAMPLES. Dave Smith MOPHO. Torso Electronics S-4. Sintetizador Modular 333 DIY; Guitarra clásica ALHAMBRA 6P; Esculturas Sonoras tipo Baschet, cristal y metales; Mesa Soundcraft FX16ii; Interface de Audio RME Babyface Pro FS; DAW Logic Pro; Procesamiento de modelado analógico con Acústica Audio, Waves, Softube, Brainworx, Sonible, Analog Obsesion, Tokio Dawn. Metering de Logic y RME DigiCheck . Amplificación Hafler PRO2400. Monitorización BW DM602 S3. Mezcla digital; Mastering híbrido.

‘Workaround’ is the lucidly playful and ambitious solo debut album by rhythm-obsessive musician and DJ, Beatrice Dillon for PAN. It combines her love of UK club music’s syncopated suss and Afro-Caribbean influences with a gamely experimental approach to modern composition and stylistic fusion, using inventive sampling and luminous mixing techniques adapted from modern pop to express fresh ideas about groove-driven music and perpetuate its form with timeless, future-proofed clarity. Recorded over 2017-19 between studios in London, Berlin and New York, ‘Workaround’ renders a hypnotic series of polymetric permutations at a fixed 150bpm tempo.

Mixing meticulous FM synthesis and harmonics with crisply edited acoustic samples from a wide range of guests including UK Bhangra pioneer Kuljit Bhamra (tabla); Pharoah Sanders Band’s Jonny Lam (pedal steel guitar); techno innovators Laurel Halo (synth/vocal) and Batu (samples); Senegalese Griot Kadialy Kouyaté (Kora), Hemlock’s Untold and new music specialist Lucy Railton (cello); amongst others, Dillon deftly absorbs their distinct instrumental colours and melody into 14 bright and spacious computerised frameworks that suggest immersive, nuanced options for dancers, DJs and domestic play. ‘Workaround’ evolves Dillon’s notions in a coolly unfolding manner that speaks directly to the album’s literary and visual inspirations, ranging from James P. Carse’s book ‘Finite And Infinite Games’ to the abstract drawings of Tomma Abts or Jorinde Voigt as well as painter Bridget Riley’s essays on grids and colour. Operating inside this rooted but mutable theoretical wireframe, Dillon’s ideas come to life as interrelated, efficient patterns in a self-sufficient system.

With a naturally fractal-not-fractional logic, Dillon’s rhythms unfold between unresolved 5/4 tresillo patterns, complex tabla strokes and spark-jumping tics in a fluid, tactile dance of dynamic contrasts between strong/light, sudden/restrained, and bound/free made in reference to the notational instructions of choreographer Rudolf Laban. Working in and around the beat and philosophy, the album’s freehand physics contract and expand between the lissom rolls of Bhamra’s tabla in the first, to a harmonious balance of hard drum angles and swooping FM synth cadence featuring additional synth and vocal from Laurel Halo in ‘Workaround Two’, while the extruded strings of Lucy Railton create a sublime tension at the album’s palatecleansing denouement, triggering a scintillating run of technoid pieces that riff on the kind of swung physics found in Artwork’s seminal ‘Basic G’, or Rian Treanor’s disruptive flux with a singularly tight yet loose motion and infectious joy. Crucially, the album sees Dillon focus on dub music’s pliable emptiness, rather than the moody dematerialisation of reverb and echo. The substance of her music is rematerialised in supple, concise emotional curves
and soberly freed to enact its ideas in balletic plies, rugged parries and sweeping, capoeira-like floor action. Applying deeply canny insight drawn from her years of practice as sound designer, musician and hugely knowledgable/intuitive DJ, ‘Workaround’ can be heard as Dillon’s ingenious solution or key to unlocking to perceptions of stiffness, darkness or grid-locked rigidity in electronic music. And as such it speaks to an ideal of rhythm-based and experimental music ranging from the hypnotic senegalese mbalax of Mark Ernestus’ Ndagga Rhythm Force, through SND and, more currently, the hard drum torque of DJ Plead; to adroitly exert the sensation of weightlessness and freedom in the dance and personal headspace.

Delsin's Mantis series welcomes Agonis with a heavy-hitting four-track workout geared towards adventurous dancefloors. As a leading figure in forward-thinking techno, Agonis has helped pioneer a scene that folds multiple tempos, styles and rhythms into a cohesive, dance-focused strain of psychedelic hypnotism. Co-running amenthia recordings from his base in Z?rich, Agonis has long explored the creative potential where elegant, immersive 4/4 and drum & bass intrigue intertwine. On Mantis 18, he carefully adjusts his sound palette to move beyond typical smoky atmospheres towards more forceful, sharply realised tones and textures. Bold synthesis striking out in brooding soundscapes, underpinned by a powerful low-end undercurrent and playful percussion: this recipe is a polite reminder you're engaged in a corner of club music that thrives on fresh approaches, served by one of the scene's key instigators.

Impressions marks Budapest based independent label Blue Sun’s 6th release. Hungarian multi-instrumentalist, Fingerfisher guitarist Adam Gollob's debut solo LP carries forward the musical direction set by the label’s founders (Hanussen & Kozmo D) by presenting tracks that are built around concentrated, listening-based music consumption, deliberately crossing, possibly defying genres.

Impressions is a profound reflection of transformation, embracing imperfection along the way. As a former student of jazz guitar at Bartók Conservatory, Gollob evokes the wandering spirit of John Coltrane with the title, at the same time inviting the listener into a brief but intensive creative period of the artist’s own life. Music listened to, festivals visited, thoughts and conversations - all echoing through-and-throughout the composition, questioning, dismantling, and rearranging them into a piece.

The record is a rich and evocative work that blends elements of new wave, indie rock, alternative electronic, and neo-psychedelic styles. The introspective lyrics and unrefined vocals explore different aspects of existence, placing the perpetual tension between uncertainty and confidence at the center. The hypnotic synthesizers, raw drum textures, and the structurally interwoven songs provide a complex listening experience. The material reforms with each replay into an ever-changing musical landscape, with a strikingly unique, fuzzy yet soothing atmosphere.

With X-ÆON, Giöbia push their signature blend of mesmerizing neo-psychedelia and space rock into uncharted territory. Echoes of the '70s meet a bold, forward-looking vision, shaping an album that feels timeless. Each track offers a glimpse into a parallel reality, a plunge into a new era brimming with tension and mystery. As the band puts it: "This album is everything we've lived and learned, captured in the moment we're in now."

Aque Blue vinyl, limited to 350 copies. With X-ÆON, Giöbia push their signature blend of mesmerizing neo-psychedelia and space rock into uncharted territory. Echoes of the '70s meet a bold, forward-looking vision, shaping an album that feels timeless. Each track offers a glimpse into a parallel reality, a plunge into a new era brimming with tension and mystery. As the band puts it: "This album is everything we've lived and learned, captured in the moment we're in now."

First released on August 18, 2023, "Outline of Nature" started as an experiment in building a modular synthesizer system and ended up as a voltage controlled outpouring of love for the natural world. Sylvan-born and pastoral-powered, sap-blooded and lightning-charged, this album grew out of the damp florescent corners of the woods, each note and sound, a fractal extension of their seedling sounds. It was nurtured into being at The Twilight Research Centre, a studio facility situated on the border of Somerset and Dorset. During Covid lockdown 1.0, I spent the outdoor hours we were permitted, wandering through the centre's surroundings, in the green lanes, woodlands and corridors of the wilds with their wary and flickering inhabitants, beneath the distant eyes of the soaring buzzards and the hulking red kites. I didn't expect it, but it was in the quiet, ferociously vibrant dens of nature, that I found a deeply profound connection with the natural world. It once again made sense to feel as much a part of the woods as the trees were; I felt like a natural entity in its habitat again, not something I'd properly felt since running wild through the gullies, dells and fells of the Midlands as a child. And I became afflicted with a powerful urge to build strange electronic sound systems that were organic, chaotic, fractal and in some way reflective of the awesome natural systems that surround us and surround the centre. I plugged in the modular, and went searching for signs of life. Adding to this, just before the lockdowns, I stumbled across a three volume nature encyclopedia in a local charity shop, called "Outline of Nature in the British Isles" by Sir John Hammerton. The sub-heading reads "A Comprehensive Photo-Survey of the Varied Life of Field and Hedgerow, Moor and Mountain, River, Pond and Sea", and it's a stunning collection of grainy photographs, beautiful illustrations and wondrously poetic writing, some of which inspired track titles and of course, the album title. I also rekindled my love of Ladybird nature books such as the "What to Look for in Spring/Summer/Autumn/Winter" series, "Birds and How They Live" and "Butterflies, Moths and Other Insects", rebuilding a small collection I had as a child and discovering numerous volumes new to me. Between the two literary sources, I had a rich well of imagery, writing and pastoral nostalgia to draw from; and coupled with the extended sessions of blissing out in my own heavily ecstatic awe descended on me in the sheer grandness of the wilderness, I set about enticing out of the woods an album of phosphorescent electrical music, abundant with comparatively microscopic, but persistent and wild life-forces.

Repress!

The latest by Chicago trio Purelink unspools an alchemical suite of fractal ambient, dusted dub tech, and interstitial electronica, born from a spirit of unity and flux: “All hands on the mixer, forever finding the sound.” Since forming in 2020, Tommy Paslaski (aka Concave Reflection), Ben Paulson (aka Kindtree), and Akeem Asani (aka Millia) have convened regularly in a shared studio to workshop, swap samples, and hone their collective muse via “the endless possibilities of a laptop,” seeking “something different than we would make on our own.”

Distilled from extended compositions prepared and performed across 2022 in Chicago, Kansas City, New York, and Los Angeles, Signs captures their chemistry at its most liquid and immaterial, mapped in mutating systems of glitch, glass, rhythm, and space. It’s music alternately subdued and subterranean, elevated and remote, attuned to the flickering sentience of outer spheres.

With a clutch of EPs under his belt spanning a wealth of pallets, Henzo narrows the focus on his debut studio album “The Poems We Write For Ourselves” - a culmination of persistent iterations over several years, distilling his sonic milieu into something that feels decidedly his own. The album proper is coupled with a debut live performance which reinterprets the tracks and splices them with omitted material from the time of writing - recorded in full in the intimate confines of Manchester’s growingly infamous Stage and Radio basement. Honing his craft in the shadows of Lancashire, Poems is an expansive reflection of the producer’s time spent away committing to the scope of an LP.

A thread of stratified sound design weaves throughout the record, but with a discerning dancefloor proclivity mostly prevalent. Cold opener “Noggin” riffs on noughties Raster-Noton a la Byetone rebuilt with fractal tear out DnB, with closer “Indulgence” following suit on a puckered plod of Dub Techno ambience. More club-focussed moments come in the form of “Rustica Slump” and “Blue Will...”, the former’s sickly sweet vocals resolved by the latter’s stoic UKG/Techno rudeness. “A Bouquet of Clumsy Words” channels mechanical shuffle with a stripped back 2/4 pulse whilst maintaining a firmly FWD>>energy alongside “Plant Your Roots In Me” on a similar vector - swapping out a straight kick pattern for a bludgeoning 808 assault on an early Hessle-indebted tip.

“Take Stock, Touch Grass” harks to golden era ClekClekBoom and Night Slugs with a bare bones kick and vocal motif, updating the formula with a tweaking lead line that places it firmly in the contemporary space. “Swell:Shrink” sings from the same sheet with a shrieking, space age wobble doing the heavy lifting, knocking the pace back to a shoulder-lean swagger on a slow fast conundrum Henzo has shown his flair for on previous releases.

The outliers to Henzo’s more known approach, “Worm Grunting” with Belfast’s Emby, an amalgamation of halfest time DnB and illest mannered Road Rap, plus “The Rest Is The Mess You Leave”, a starkly anti-retro Ghettotek endeavour, give grounds to the LP. Clearly rooted in the comfortable universe of the dancefloor, these tracks expand the producer’s realm into loftier heights as he graduates into long play land.

The hypnagogic haze of purling, refractive dub is strong on Sleepdial’s debut for West Mineral, introducing a crafty new name to the scene after a teasing preview on that Peak Oil x NWAQ radio show, delivering a heavy-lidded dose of tattered ambient dub inversions.

Sleepdial chases a frayed thread of thought thru the fractal echo chambers of ‘RV Lights’, only their 2nd full-length under this alias, and first on vinyl. The 9-part album is optimised for getting smudged on sunny daze with its pursuit of elusive dub sprites that connote subaquatic or vaporous etheric themes in their elemental diffusions and world-building ecologies.

In equilibrium of ambient and dub-as-method, they tenderly tease the senses with a fine grasp of deferred gratification, oscillating abstract spatial navigations and ephemeral moments of heart-in-mouth euphoria. Where sometimes this stuff can err to a pleasant mess, the dub ballast here anchors proceedings in a rugged groove that really pushes the right buttons and elevates the whole thing in its own air.

Blessed with a compelling sensuality, tracks follow a course from the compressed contrails of ‘Purview’ to the helical shapes of ‘Dovetailing’ and thru beautifully pill-bellied sensations on ‘Icarus Rising’, into ruggeder, insectoid dub in ‘Blue August’ to short circuit agitated and soothing feels. That fractured sort of duality manifests at its most anxious yet enchanted in the unpicked strings and astral scree of ‘Lightplay’, and in the title and feel of ‘Lean Angst’, gently keeping heads on toes into the swirling pressure system of album sign-off ‘Airtank’.

Introspekt’s hotly anticipated debut album Moving The Center comes nearly a year after the release of her latest EP Tectónica. Set to be released on June 20th, Moving the Center sees Introspekt play homage to dubstep’s point of genesis in South London in order to then shift the center of focus from a singular point of origin, to a more global narrative of bass and vibration. The album blends UK bass with contrasting genres like garage and ballroom, creating the perfect feminine blend of these historically masculine genres. The album merges the Black diaspora from across the Atlantic, crafting a sonic world where past, present and future are parallel and immersed in an early millennium type dubstep soundscape.

Speaking about the album, Introspekt says, “‘Moving The Center’ embodies an alternate perspective to that which has been dominant in dance music, particularly so-called ‘bass music’. The narrative it presents is one which throws a wrench in the seemingly common perception of Dubstep as a masculinist sensibility. ‘Moving The Center’ pushes a feminine physicality to the front of the bassbins. Femmes to the front!”

2025 Repress

A tale of paramount love for machines and the inextinguishable power of subjugation that lies in these button-studded boxes teeming with cabled bowels that feel so intimidating to the uninitiated, Italo Brutalo's longed-for debut album "Heartware" is a 12-track voyage across 25 years of intense synth collecting, fiddling,
composing and endless loving for audio synthesis and the art of how robots make human bodies jack.
Throughout the twelve cuts that compose "Heartware", a feeling of retro-gazing, candidly playful glee prevails. Looking right in the eye of the era when dazzling flipper visuals and static-filled VHS glitches
reigned supreme, Italo Brutalo invites us to witness first-hand his own textbook smorgasbord of fast-wheeling arpeggios and vocodized hoodoo ("Heartware", "Reach Horizon"), dystopian digital sunsets by the beach ("I Feel Lonely"), early hip-hop-informed whackin' n' thumpin' ("Analog Bars") and the slo but hard churn of a robot heist score ("Nobody Moves").
A lush tapestry of woozy exotic pads set in contrast with a deft and aggro drum programming ("As Above So Below"), followed by a new-beat oriented hammer-drop that shall leave no raver unscathed ("Heat of the Knight"), Italo Brutalo shifts the scope to radical effect whilst maintaining that cohesive headspace flush with the iconic 80s-to-90s-sourced assets. The hardware used in the making of "Heartware" is obviously the star here, and the inner sleeve pays tribute to that: the ideas behind the album have been there waiting to find their way out for over twenty years!
From adrenalin-boosting fractals of keyboard razzle-dazzle ("Chemical Element") to straight out pumping EBM primed for hi-octane mosh pits down the basement ("You Are Welcome"), via polyrhytmic percs-driven assaults and sizzling hot synth-smithery ("Into a Sampler"), the pressure levels never falter. Yet, Italo Brutalo sure knows how to weave further oneiric, softer narratives for your mind to frolic in unhindered ("Dream Machine") and rounds it all off with a total, space-opera'esque epic bound to have you spinning out of orbit into the great unknown ("Eternia").
"Heartware" is released in a neat double-vinyl gatefold package presenting the concept and machines involved in its making, including a twelve-page booklet featuring Italo Brutalo's key pieces of gear.

The first in a proposed series of transmissions, Surface Detail's mystifying debut introduces an incorporeal body that exists only through sound and sensation, prompting listeners to discern a spiritual realm beyond the physical. Its surging electro-acoustic compositions push past the material world to plunge into deeper sonic dimensions, slowly revealing a philosophy borne of near-death and out-of-body experiences that challenges perception itself.

Overhauling vintage experimental techniques with their bespoke modern methodologies and processes, Surface Detail rearrange the musical timeline, merging vastly different concepts to hint at questions rather than provide solid answers. Their uniquely immersive soundscapes use texture, rhythm and tonality to help brush away the superficial and contemplate the unknown, approaching its delicate, controversial subject matter with sensitivity and sensuality. Not just an auditory experience, 'Surface Detail' tests the potential of sound itself, eliciting visceral physical reactions with its uncanny subtleties.

Those principles are divulged immediately on opening track 'Marée Noire', as breathy saxophone notes loops and swirl over cosmic oscillations and microtonally tuned drones. It's music that cracks open a passage that snakes through various genres, suggesting silhouettes rather than affirming banal musical preconceptions. Skeletal rhythms appear in the ether for only a moment, disappearing into the sonic landscape, and Surface Detail's bespoke instrumentation materializes just to bring out the cellular intricacy of the music, concentrating the gaze on microscopic textures and irregularities that discompose the senses. As the album drifts forward, it bends material reality even further: on 'Southern Breach', warm, lower-register organ tones intermingle with sinewy guitar twangs, evaporating into warped, hypnotic oscillations and eerie echoes; and by 'Superbook of the Dead', the conspicuous details have almost disappeared completely, replaced by subterranean clangs, industrial ambience and other-worldly electrical interference.

It's in this way that Surface Detail softly assert their convictions, insinuating a narrative that subliminally ushers listeners down an hypnagogic River Styx by removing all traces of the familiar. On closing track 'Broken Silicates', distant lullabies, dissociated stutters and ghostly woodwind sounds blot fractal patterns on the wide open space, reincarnating the album in a liminal zone that's not constrained by somatic logic. Whisper quiet and utterly beguiling, it transcends material existence, dissolving barriers between surface and depth.

15 Iconic David Meiser's tracks boosted & remastered celebrating 15
years of career (2010 - 2025).
3 x 12" Special Edition Vinyl Box Set. (Only 100 copies).

A quintessential, timeless piece of death metal
In 1997, long-running Polish death metal act VADER - currently celebrating their 40th anniversary - made an important step towards international recognition by releasing “Black To The Blind”, their third studio album, which includes live staples like ‘Carnal’ or the savage title track. Honed from playing way over 250 concerts in the mid 90’s and sharing stage with Cannibal Corpse, Immolation, Morbid Angel, the quartet became true road dogs with a dedicated following up until today and perfected their intense and catchy, Slayer-meets-Morbid-Angel on steroids brand of death metal. “Black To The Blind” has been remastered and features an updated layout as well as the original cover art. A quintessential, timeless piece of death metal!

“Where is this? It looks like the grounds of a shrine. Like a deep, dark, forest. I'm wandering around. I can't get over the feeling that I've been to this place before. The temple and the tower look much bigger than usual, and I feel as if I were lost in a world of immensity. It's very dark with no sky up above, like being in the depths of the Earth. Anyway, it's a world I know.” - Leisure, the Sonorous Dream

For schuttle’s next unearthly contribution, we invite you to slip into the reassuring comforts of the simulated realm. Herein lies an open invitation to all of those tentative travellers willing to join us as we revel in four slices of post-biological optimism.

The world building begins with “Splan”. schuttle’s navigation vessel hovers steadily above a fractal landscape until a divine arp propels us skywards. We burst through the latent cloudsphere to marvel at the boundless synergy of the interlocking polygons. The sunburst gradient barely has time to load before an oscillating wriggle plunges us into a strangely familiar stomping ground. Hedonistic NPCs begin spawning at random, splurging joyful machine funk at each other before walking gleefully into walls. Finally, with a little help from a well known toad, schuttle unleashes the full might of his Mana on the nascent gathering.

We dock next in ‘Melonweed Musick’. Our vessel gently stirring the reeds as we descend into the marshland. The potent aroma of the swamp fills our nostrils, various apparitions seem to wriggle into view. What have we been inhaling? No time to consider, the loose murk of the breakbeat is starting to take effect and it’s all we can do to keep one foot squelching after the other. As we submit wholeheartedly to the sheer depth and clarity of the bassline, a kindly angel sweeps above the sphagnum, spraying a succession of cleansing chords over our slimy bodies. Refreshed with some useful navigation advice we continue.

In ‘Kitchen Sync’ our craft’s speedometer is tickled up to a cruising 120bpm. The world outside our window begins to swim with colour, prickly forms materialise then dissipate around us. The familiar shape of our old friend, the high priest 303 appears before us, steadying the ship. Its resonant flame warming our hearth, and our hearts too. Then begins a beautiful communion of the domestic and the otherworldly, through the interplay of acid under glimmering keys. Provoking within us an uncontrollable desire to open our curtains, to cast off our slippers and embrace the infinite morrow.

Our voyage concludes with ‘Inspo 2000’. Scintillating landing lights guide us toward our destination, our descent beckoned by woody and playful percussion. We tumble through the troposphere, our landing cushioned by the buoyancy of the gated chords, the kicks juicing what's left of our dwindling fuel supply. A luxurious breakdown brings the ground into focus. Perhaps this is home? The simulation is now so accurate that it seems pointless to question it, it is a world we have always known.

There is no one universe for Ben LaMar Gay, he just sonic booms from one sound to another." - NPR Music
Ben LaMar Gay’s de facto debut album, Downtown Castles Can Never Block The Sun, was our attempt to introduce the legendary Chicago composer / improvisor / renaissance man to the rest of the world with a compilation of tracks from “7 albums he made over 7 years but never made the effort to actually release. ” The material showcases Gay’s penchant for genre-hopping—from Reich-ian soundscape voyages to Don Cherry-esque polyrhythm treks to Jorge Ben-style vocal-and-string earworms—while keeping his singular musical voice in focus.
In the years since its release, this long OOP collection has become a touchstone, foreshadowing the breadth and scope of Ben LaMar Gay’s output since. The songs-between-the-songs warped Soul Americana madness and beauty of Open Arms To Open Us, the unhinged long form freedom of Certain Reveries—each fresh mode would defy expectation if without the context established by Downtown Castles. To quote the OG press release, “to call it ‘eclectic’ would only scratch the surface. This music is everything.

Another Goa Trance hero joins the Metallic States project. Following amazing re-issues of his side project Prism, O.V.N.I. is back 26 years after his last release on vinyl under this moniker. A new approach for new times could define the proposition here, with 4 tracks infused with the psychedelic touch that defines him so well.

Close your eyes… do you see the Fractals?

Jules Reidy"s sublime music maps the human experience in glittering constellations of sound. The guitarist is a driver of Berlin"s fertile contemporary music scene. A wide-eyed imagination combined with technical mastery guide each work in Reidy"s extensive catalog, from solo guitar albums and collaborations with innovative peers, including recent works with claire rousay, Oren Ambarchi, Andrea Belfi and Sam Dunscombe to major commissions from JACK Quartet and Zinc & Copper. The songs of Ghost/Spirit collectively convey an astral sense of yearning and wonder, pushing towards transcendence. The album charts a deeply personal journey with love, spirituality and transformation expressed in fractal guitar figures, ethereal vocal vapors and rippling microtones. Reidy"s guitar approach unlocks the tonal and textural possibilities of the instrument from their use of alternate tunings and astute processing. The maximalist melodics of album opener "Every Day There"s a Sunset" are bolstered by rumbling bass samples from Andreas Dzialocha, Reidy"s collaborator in the duo Sun Kit. On "Satellite," cello samples from Judith Hamann stretch out through the cosmos, orbited by spiraling finger-picked guitars, while stacked trombone chords echo out into the ether. Thundering drum samples from Berlin metal mainstay Sara Neidorf push the album to ecstatic peaks on "Every Day There"s a Sunrise," fragmented rhythms breaking apart in the atmosphere. Field recordings of the Berlin S-Bahn recur throughout the album, another endless cycle of leaving and returning that shuttles beneath the album"s whirling tones. Ghost/Spirit captures the inherent power and agency in choosing to offer yourself up to the universe and let go, ego death and prayer rendered in incandescent sonics. Reidy"s inimitable skill as a guitarist, producer and composer is on full display, and when combined with the intensity of experience, the resulting album is a remarkable work of art.

Jules Reidy"s sublime music maps the human experience in glittering constellations of sound. The guitarist is a driver of Berlin"s fertile contemporary music scene. A wide-eyed imagination combined with technical mastery guide each work in Reidy"s extensive catalog, from solo guitar albums and collaborations with innovative peers, including recent works with claire rousay, Oren Ambarchi, Andrea Belfi and Sam Dunscombe to major commissions from JACK Quartet and Zinc & Copper. The songs of Ghost/Spirit collectively convey an astral sense of yearning and wonder, pushing towards transcendence. The album charts a deeply personal journey with love, spirituality and transformation expressed in fractal guitar figures, ethereal vocal vapors and rippling microtones. Reidy"s guitar approach unlocks the tonal and textural possibilities of the instrument from their use of alternate tunings and astute processing. The maximalist melodics of album opener "Every Day There"s a Sunset" are bolstered by rumbling bass samples from Andreas Dzialocha, Reidy"s collaborator in the duo Sun Kit. On "Satellite," cello samples from Judith Hamann stretch out through the cosmos, orbited by spiraling finger-picked guitars, while stacked trombone chords echo out into the ether. Thundering drum samples from Berlin metal mainstay Sara Neidorf push the album to ecstatic peaks on "Every Day There"s a Sunrise," fragmented rhythms breaking apart in the atmosphere. Field recordings of the Berlin S-Bahn recur throughout the album, another endless cycle of leaving and returning that shuttles beneath the album"s whirling tones. Ghost/Spirit captures the inherent power and agency in choosing to offer yourself up to the universe and let go, ego death and prayer rendered in incandescent sonics. Reidy"s inimitable skill as a guitarist, producer and composer is on full display, and when combined with the intensity of experience, the resulting album is a remarkable work of art.

Linking music and literature, building a bridge between the written and the sung – only the greats have managed to do this in the past. Leonard Cohen, Scott Walker, and Patti Smith were just some of the shining stars that Anna B Savage orientated herself towards as a teenager. Born on the anniversary of Bach’s death, the young musician spent her birthday every year in the Green Room of the Royal Albert Hall watching her parents perform compositions by the grand master. That shaped her. Today, thanks to albums such as her debut, “A Common Turn” (2021), and the incredibly sensual art-pop opus “in|FLUX” (2023), the singer-songwriter is one of the truly exceptional talents on the British independent scene. In her music, otherworldly vocals nestle up against chamber orchestral compositions, delicate arrangements rise up and blow away, and the musician’s highly eclectic sound grows song by song into an experience that lingers for days and weeks. Potentially life-changing.
A sense of rootedness is at the heart of Anna B Savage’s third record You and i are Earth, a record that is as much about healing as it is an unbowed sense of curiosity, and, more simply, “a love letter to a man and to Ireland.” Following on from her critically acclaimed records A Common Turn and in|FLUX, You and i are Earth manages to convey a sense of intimacy, while also being open-ended. Gentleness is as radiant a touchstone on the record as earthiness, something that Savage attributes to the place she finds herself at present, both geographically and emotionally. And quite literally the record bears witness to a particular piece of earth - Ireland, and Savage’s relationship to it as her new home. That process is brilliantly rendered on Agnes, a complicated piece of work featuring Anna Mieke that turns on tropes of duality and transformation. It mirrors an unsettling experience that Savage had through meditation, which ultimately ended in an immersive, beautiful feeling, “I felt like I was part of the earth, completely connected to the mycelium network, I felt like I was where I was meant to be.” In many ways, that experience framed the album’s artwork, a photograph taken in some woodlands in Co. Sligo, with Savage looking up at the trees, their fractals reflected in her eyes, mirroring something she had felt in her meditation, bringing us back full circle, and to that sense that we are essentially in unison, or at least striving to be, that “you and I are earth”.

Linking music and literature, building a bridge between the written and the sung – only the greats have managed to do this in the past. Leonard Cohen, Scott Walker, and Patti Smith were just some of the shining stars that Anna B Savage orientated herself towards as a teenager. Born on the anniversary of Bach’s death, the young musician spent her birthday every year in the Green Room of the Royal Albert Hall watching her parents perform compositions by the grand master. That shaped her. Today, thanks to albums such as her debut, “A Common Turn” (2021), and the incredibly sensual art-pop opus “in|FLUX” (2023), the singer-songwriter is one of the truly exceptional talents on the British independent scene. In her music, otherworldly vocals nestle up against chamber orchestral compositions, delicate arrangements rise up and blow away, and the musician’s highly eclectic sound grows song by song into an experience that lingers for days and weeks. Potentially life-changing.
A sense of rootedness is at the heart of Anna B Savage’s third record You and i are Earth, a record that is as much about healing as it is an unbowed sense of curiosity, and, more simply, “a love letter to a man and to Ireland.” Following on from her critically acclaimed records A Common Turn and in|FLUX, You and i are Earth manages to convey a sense of intimacy, while also being open-ended. Gentleness is as radiant a touchstone on the record as earthiness, something that Savage attributes to the place she finds herself at present, both geographically and emotionally. And quite literally the record bears witness to a particular piece of earth - Ireland, and Savage’s relationship to it as her new home. That process is brilliantly rendered on Agnes, a complicated piece of work featuring Anna Mieke that turns on tropes of duality and transformation. It mirrors an unsettling experience that Savage had through meditation, which ultimately ended in an immersive, beautiful feeling, “I felt like I was part of the earth, completely connected to the mycelium network, I felt like I was where I was meant to be.” In many ways, that experience framed the album’s artwork, a photograph taken in some woodlands in Co. Sligo, with Savage looking up at the trees, their fractals reflected in her eyes, mirroring something she had felt in her meditation, bringing us back full circle, and to that sense that we are essentially in unison, or at least striving to be, that “you and I are earth”.

Mischievous festa punk meets astral steppas, kalaedoscopic free ambient meets harsh noise, scattered amen breaks with IDM and free jazz trumpets meets the earthly plod of digidub. It can only be Felinto from Sao Paulo.
UTOPIA MILHÃO honors the life forces that allow us to transform the darkness where dreams reside. The album brings a new moment of intimacy for Felinto's musical expression flowing through dirty, raw, dense and brilliant dub fractals, ready to transform unexpectedly into a new shape then another, and another, and another... featuring collaborations with magical people: Sarine (Deafkids), Douglas Leal (Deafkids), Guizado (Afrobombas), Sandra X, Paula Rebellato (Rakta), Lorena Hollander, Yao Bobby, Kiko Dinucci, Paulo Papaleo, Cint Murphy, Rodrigo Lima.
Felinto is a political agitator and musician at the heart of the São Paulo underground - a movement that confronts the various effects of the capitalist system of racial, sexual, ,,,,, and 22222 lawand material oppression.

His provocations range from yoga for children and parenting studies (SACYOGA), theatre (PROJETO CRIOULOS and PROJETO JAMES BALDWIN), web series highlighting the black presence in electronic music in São Paulo (MODULAÇÃO PRETA), reflective groups on gender violence and masculinities, occupation of public spaces for political art q(Coletivo Sistema Negro), artistic curatorship (Residência SOMSOCOSMOS) and studies with sound as a tool in conflict mediation practices. Felinto composes for film, theatre and immersive installations such as MEGACITIES presented at the National Gallery of Victoria, Canada in 2023.

He is currently researching - as part of a masters project in clinical psychology - the collectivised dream realities of black people. A field of action that contemporary anthropology, psychoanalysis and psychology call ONIROPOLITICA.

His interest in affinity groups, autonomous networks of micro-political articulation and penal abolitionism led him to the questions: what do black people dream about within the permanent context of civil war and state violence (like the one in Brazil)? How does this experience create dreams and how does the dream affect the construction of identities beyond the boundaries established by the capitalist unconscious?

DJ Plead and rRoxymore with a debut collab of rhythmelodically restless productions, infusing limber, freewheeling styles with subtly psychedelic balearic melodics.

After meeting for the first time in 2019, Hermione Frank and Jarred Beeler got together at Frank's Berlin studio, slowly sculpting fractal geometries before finally adding the finishing spit and polish at Beeler's parents’ house in Sydney. Marking some of the first original material from either in a minute, the EP knits the duo’s rhythmic fascinations in three ways.

‘Celestial’ splices a rolling 4/4 with quicksilver polyrhythms and zippy melodic motifs swept into hand-clap trills, imagining something like Olof Dreijer re-shaping Joe’s angular syncopations. ‘Read Wrong’ follows to foreground a thumb piano on a more pendulous, sub-weighted flex, inflected with DJ Plead’s signature palette of drum sounds and canny orchestral flashes at the right moments, dipping like D1’s more melodic works or that forthcoming Nídia & Valentina Magaletti pearl.

The duo save their most hard-hitting for last, sliding speedy, dembow-inspired geometries through green-tinted clouds of electronics on a UKF-compatible offbeat threaded with swooping subs and flighty flutes. The momentum never lets up, but the two producers manage to evoke a mood that's as suited to a late-nite solo thing as it is to peak time wreckage. In other words; deceptively effortless gear that hits harder the louder it gets.

Almost exactly a year since since ‘Felt Cute’ debuted on Kalahari and Blu:sh is back in the building. But this time around, it’s with a record evoking the muggy closeness of a dancefloor suspended somewhere between peak-time elation and wide-eyed vision quest.

Tweaking the blueprint to rapturous ends, the latest offering from this Blu:sh project propels itself forward with a muscle-bound groove. Six robust, deadly club trax replicate the breathy seduction of its predecessor, but this time, with added velocity.

Pinky Promise is full frontal and deadly while channelled through the same explorative prism characterising Benoit’s best work. Probably the toughest material the prolific shapeshifter has put out to date.

Nods to Eurocentric styles shine through with particular emphasis on the sexy and trance-inducing. It goes straight out the traps with a big dose of fractal fuel and stays murkily psychedelic to the very end.

Camelot, the legendary seat of King Arthur's court in Early Middle Ages Britain, was probably not a real place. A corruption of the name of a real Romano-Briton city, the word "Camelot" accumulated symbolic, mythic resonances over centuries, until achieving its present usage as a near-synonym of "utopia." In the mid-20th century alone, Camelot inspired an explosion of representations and appropriations, among them the violent, affectless Arthurian court of Robert Bresson's 1974 film Lancelot du Lac and the absurdist iteration of Monty Python's 1975 Holy Grail, both of which feature armored knights erupting into fountains of blood; the mystical Welsh world of novelist John Cowper Powys's profoundly weird 1951 novel Porius, with its Roman cults, wizards and witches, and wanton giants; and the nationalist nostalgia of President John F. Kennedy's White House. Unsurprisingly there are fewer Camelots in more recent memory. Camelot, Canadian songwriter Jennifer Castle's extraordinary, moving 2024 chronicle of the artist in early middle age, charts a realer, more rooted, and more metaphorical place than the fabled Camelot of the Early Middle Ages (or its myriad depictions), but it too is a space more psychic than physical. In Castle's Camelot, the fantastic interpenetrates the mundane, and the Grail, if there is one, distills everyday experience into art and art into faith, subliming terrestrial concerns into sublime celestial prayers to Mother Nature, and to the unfolding process of perfecting imperfection in one's own nature. Co-produced by Jennifer and longtime collaborator Jeff McMurrich, her seventh record is at once her most monumental and unguarded to date, demonstrating a mastery of rendering her verse and melodies alike with crisply poignant economy. For all their pointedly plainspoken lyrical detail and exhilarating full-band musical flourishes, these songs sound inevitable, eternal as morning devotions. "Back in Camelot," she sings on the lilting, vulnerable title track, "I really learned a lot / circles in the crops and / sky-high geometry." The album opens with a candid admission of sleeping "in the unfinished basement," an embarrassing joke that comes true. But the dreamer is redeemed by dreaming, setting sail in her airborne bed above "sirens and desert deities." If she questions her own agency_whether she is "wishing stones were standing" or just "pissing in the wind"_it does not diminish the ineffable existential jolt of such signs and wonders. This abiding tension between belief and doubt, magic and pragmatism, self and other, sacred and profane, and even, arguably, paganism and monotheism, suffuses these ten songs, which limn an interior landscape shot through with sunstriped shadows of "multi-felt dimensions" both mystical and quotidian. The epic scale and transport of "Camelot," with its swooning strings, gives way dramatically to "Some Friends," an acoustic-guitar-and-vocals meditation in miniature on Janus-faced friends and the lunar and solar temperatures of their promises_"bright and beaming verses" versus hot curses_which recalls her minimalist last album, 2020's achingly intimate Monarch Season. (In a symmetrical sequencing gesture, the penultimate track, the incantatory "Earthsong," bookends the central six with a similarly spare solo performance and coiled chord progression, this time an ambiguous appeal to _ a wounded lover? a wounded saint? our wounded planet?) Those whom "Trust" accuses of treacherous oaths spit through "gilded and golden tooth"_cynics, critics, hypocrites, gurus, scientists, doctors, lovers, government, the so-called entertainment industry_sow uncertainty that can infect the artist, as in "Louis": "What's that dance / and can it be done? What's that song / and can it be sung?" Answering affirmatively are "Lucky #8," an irrepressible ode to dancing as a bulwark against the "tidal pools of pain" and the "theory of collapse," and "Full Moon in Leo," which finds the narrator dancing around the house with a broom, wearing nothing but her underwear and "big hair." But the central question remains: who can we trust, and at what cost faith, in art or angels or otherwise? Castle's confidence in her collaborators is the cornerstone of Camelot. Carl Didur (piano and keys), Evan Cartwright (drums and percussion), and steadfast sideman Mike Smith (bass) comprise a rhythm section of exquisite delicacy and depth. This fundamental trio anchors the airiness of regular backing vocalists Victoria Cheong and Isla Craig and frames the guitars of Castle, McMurrich, and Paul Mortimer (and on "Lucky #8," special guest Cass McCombs). Reprising his decennial role on Castle's beloved 2014 Pink City, Owen Pallett arranged the strings for Estonia's FAMES Skopje Studio Orchestra. On the ravishing country-soul ballad "Blowing Kisses"_Pallett's crowning achievement here, which can be heard in its entirety in the penultimate episode of the third season of FX's The Bear_Jennifer contemplates time and presence, love and prayer_and how songwriting and poetry both manifest and limit all four dimensions: "No words to fumble with / I'm not a beggar to language any longer." Such rare moments of speechlessness_"I'm so fucking honoured," she bluntly proclaims_suggest a state "only a god could come up with." (If Camelot affirms Castle as one of the great song-poets of her generation, she is not immune to the despairing linguistic beggary that plagues all writers.) Camelot evinces a thoroughgoing faith not only in the natural world_including human bodies, which can, miraculously, dance and swim and bleed and embrace and birth_but also in our interpretations of and interventions in it: the "charts and diagrams" of "Lucky #8," a daydreamt billboard on Fairfax Ave. in LA in "Full Moon in Leo," the bloody invocations of the organ-stained "Mary Miracle," and all manner of water worship, rivers in particular. (Notably, Jennifer has worked as a farmer and a doula.) The album ends with "Fractal Canyon"'s repeated, exalted insistence that she's "not alone here." But where is here? The word "utopia" itself constitutes a pun, indicating in its ambiguous first syllable both the Greek "eutopia," or "good-place"_the facet most remembered today_and "outopia," or "no-place," a negative, impossible geography of the mind. Utopia, like its metonym Camelot, is imaginary. Or as fellow Canadian songwriter Neil Young once sang, "Everyone knows this is nowhere." "Can you see how I'd be tempted," Castle asks out of nowhere, held in the mystery, "to pretend I'm not alone and let the memory bend?"

With his 9th album, Housemeister invites you on a fascinating journey through electronic music. This work combines influences from techno, electro, synthesizer music, melodic house and synthpop, and shows the artists diversity and creativity. Driving rhythms, optimistic sounds, life-affirming vibes and less nervousness than in previous releases make this album more mature and an incomparable listening experience. The album captivates with its varied mix of different styles that magically come together in harmony. Beautiful melodies that stay in the ear and a successful balance of slow and fast tracks make it a work that constantly reveals new facets. A particular highlight of the album is the track Love is a Killer, in which Joy Tyson provides goosebump moments with her incredible voice. This alternative synthpop song is an emotional highlight and shows Housemeisters ability to create deep and moving music. This album is a must-have for all electronic music lovers and a versatile companion for any playlist. Whether in the club, on the radio or in a personal playlist, Housemeisters new album will set dance floors ablaze and hearts melting. And like always, the artwork is made by Housemeister himself.

. For Fans Of: The Weather Station, Weyes Blood, Adrianne Lenker, Phoebe Bridgers, Joan Shelley, Lana Del Rey, Cass McCombs, Angel Olsen & Neil Young. Camelot, the legendary seat of King Arthur’s court in Early Middle Ages Britain, was probably not a real place. A corruption of the name of a real Romano-Briton city, the word “Camelot” accumulated symbolic, mythic resonances over centuries, until achieving its present usage as a near-synonym of “utopia.” In the mid-20th century alone, Camelot inspired an explosion of representations and appropriations, among them the violent, affectless Arthurian court of Robert Bresson’s 1974 film Lancelot du Lac and the absurdist iteration of Monty Python’s 1975 Holy Grail, both of which feature armoured knights erupting into fountains of blood; the mystical Welsh world of novelist John Cowper Powys’s profoundly weird 1951 novel Porius, with its Roman cults, wizards and witches, and wanton giants; and the nationalist nostalgia of President John F. Kennedy’s White House. Unsurprisingly there are fewer Camelots in more recent memory. Camelot, Canadian songwriter Jennifer Castle’s extraordinary, moving 2024 chronicle of the artist in early middle age, charts a realer, more rooted, and more metaphorical place than the fabled Camelot of the Early Middle Ages (or its myriad depictions), but it too is a space more psychic than physical. In Castle’s Camelot, the fantastic interpenetrates the mundane, and the Grail, if there is one, distills everyday experience into art and art into faith, subliming terrestrial concerns into sublime celestial prayers to Mother Nature, and to the unfolding process of perfecting imperfection in one’s own nature. Co-produced by Jennifer and longtime collaborator Jeff McMurrich, her seventh record is at once her most monumental and unguarded to date, demonstrating a mastery of rendering her verse and melodies alike with crisply poignant economy. For all their pointedly plainspoken lyrical detail and exhilarating full-band musical flourishes, these songs sound inevitable, eternal as morning devotions. “Back in Camelot,” she sings on the lilting, vulnerable title track, “I really learned a lot / circles in the crops and / sky-high geometry.” The album opens with a candid admission of sleeping “in the unfinished basement,” an embarrassing joke that comes true. But the dreamer is redeemed by dreaming, setting sail in her airborne bed above “sirens and desert deities.” If she questions her own agency whether she is “wishing stones were standing” or just “pissing in the wind” it does not diminish the ineffable existential jolt of such signs and wonders. This abiding tension between belief and doubt, magic and pragmatism, self and other, sacred and profane, and even, arguably, paganism and monotheism, suffuses these ten songs, which limn an interior landscape shot through with sunstriped shadows of “multi-felt dimensions” both mystical and quotidian. The epic scale and transport of “Camelot,” with its swooning strings, gives way dramatically to “Some Friends,” an acoustic-guitar-and-vocals meditation in miniature on Janus-faced friends and the lunar and solar temperatures of their promises—“bright and beaming verses” versus hot curses which recalls her minimalist last album, 2020’s achingly intimate Monarch Season. (In a symmetrical sequencing gesture, the penultimate track, the incantatory “Earthsong,” bookends the central six with a similarly spare solo performance and coiled chord progression, this time an ambiguous appeal to … a wounded lover? a wounded saint? our wounded planet?). Those whom “Trust” accuses of treacherous oaths spit through “gilded and golden tooth” cynics, critics, hypocrites, gurus, scientists, doctors, lovers, government, the so-called entertainment industry sow uncertainty that can infect the artist, as in “Louis”: “What’s that dance / and can it be done? What’s that song / and can it be sung?” Answering affirmatively are “Lucky #8,” an irrepressible ode to dancing as a bulwark against the “tidal pools of pain” and the “theory of collapse,” and “Full Moon in Leo,” which finds the narrator dancing around the house with a broom, wearing nothing but her underwear and “big hair.” But the central question remains: who can we trust, and at what cost faith, in art or angels or otherwise? Castle’s confidence in her collaborators is the cornerstone of Camelot. Carl Didur (piano and keys), Evan Cartwright (drums and percussion), and steadfast sideman Mike Smith (bass) comprise a rhythm section of exquisite delicacy and depth. This fundamental trio anchors the airiness of regular backing vocalists Victoria Cheong and Isla Craig and frames the guitars of Castle, McMurrich, and Paul Mortimer (and on “Lucky #8,” special guest Cass McCombs). Reprising his decennial role on Castle’s beloved 2014 Pink City, Owen Pallett arranged the strings for Estonia’s FAMES Skopje Studio Orchestra. On the ravishing country-soul ballad “Blowing Kisses” Pallett’s crowning achievement here, which can be heard in its entirety in the penultimate episode of the third season of FX’s The Bear Jennifer contemplates time and presence, love and prayer and how songwriting and poetry both manifest and limit all four dimensions: “No words to fumble with / I’m not a beggar to language any longer.” Such rare moments of speechlessness “I’m so fucking honoured,” she bluntly proclaims suggest a state “only a god could come up with.” (If Camelot affirms Castle as one of the great song-poets of her generation, she is not immune to the despairing linguistic beggary that plagues all writers.) Camelot evinces a thoroughgoing faith not only in the natural world including human bodies, which can, miraculously, dance and swim and bleed and embrace and birth but also in our interpretations of and interventions in it: the “charts and diagrams” of “Lucky #8,” a daydreamt billboard on Fairfax Ave. in LA in “Full Moon in Leo,” the bloody invocations of the organ-stained “Mary Miracle,” and all manner of water worship, rivers in particular. (Notably, Jennifer has worked as a farmer and a doula.) The album ends with “Fractal Canyon”s repeated, exalted insistence that she’s “not alone here.” But where is here? The word “utopia” itself constitutes a pun, indicating in its ambiguous first syllable both the Greek “eutopia,” or “good-place” the facet most remembered today and “outopia,” or “no-place,” a negative, impossible geography of the mind. Utopia, like its metonym Camelot, is imaginary