Buscar:fracture

ReVINYL Random Color Edition. Concrete is a bracing jolt of a song, racing forward on a tightly wound post-punk riff, its call-and-response vocals capturing the turmoil and schizophrenic internal dialogue of the song's subject matter."It's about someone who's trapped in a relationship and they're being pummelled into surrender," says singer and lyricist Charlie Steen. "It's not about a physically abusive relationship - more an emotionally and psychologically draining one. The call-and-response vocals between Steen and bassist Josh Finerty is the central figure's own internal dialogue. They are dealing with two different things that they don't want to address."The band cite The Fall, Country Teasers, Television Personalities and Wire among their biggest influences, and the icily claustrophobic sound of Concrete sets it in a lineage with Magazine, Joy Division. As a lyricist, Steen is a modern flâneur, forensically observing the lives of others around him as they unspool and fracture, with Hubert Selby Jr and Irvine Welsh his primary literary influences. "That graphic and harsh style of writing always interested me," he explains. "It's not about the shock factor; it's about the fact they are talking about these things in such great detail without stripping anything back."The London five piece have swiftly earned a reputation as one of the most visceral and exhilarating live bands in the UK, their combustible shows being honed through a heavy touring schedule in the UK and across Europe. Cutting their teeth on the squat-punk scene in the Queen's Head in Brixton in 2015, where they were taken under the wing of Fat White Family, the white heat of their gigs quickly landed them support slots with Slaves and Warpaint. They were also personally invited by Billy Bragg to play the Left Field stage at Glastonbury this year.Following two singles - the AA single The Lick/Gold Hole and Tasteless on Fnord Communications as well as the digital-only Theresa May-baiting Visa Vulture (described by Steen as "the worst love song ever") - Concrete is the first track to be released as part of their record deal with Dead Oceans."We started this band as a joke that went too far," deadpans Steen. "What we do is quite strange and quite weird, but I get to meet a lot of people and I get to hear a lot of things. I am interested in the surrealism of reality."

Trace represents a pivotal moment in the evolution of Gridlock, bridging their earlier industrial roots with expansive ambient and IDM-influenced soundscapes.

Released in early 2001, Trace received critical praise and underground acclaim. Reviewers highlighted its blend of melodic drones reminiscent of Brian Eno with fractured beats and immersive ambient textures. Its evolving percussion and layered atmospheres marked a maturation of Gridlock’s original ethos, moving away from harsh industrial noise toward a more melodic, ambient, and cerebral sound.

The duo continued this trajectory on their final album, Formless, before disbanding, leaving behind a small but highly influential catalog. In tribute to Mike Wells, who passed away in 2022, Viasonde is reintroducing Gridlock’s work with the blessing of Wells’ family.

2026 Repress

"To make authentic Jungle you’ve got to get the breaks right sonically and LMajor does that without effort. Something in the tone of his drums really spoke to me and I knew immediately I wanted a record for Astrophonica. Authentic UKG is also all in the drums and it turns out he can do those too. Throw in some killer hooks and riffs and it’s the perfect combination - full of vibe and character” - Fracture

‘Can’t Do It’ is raw dance floor Jungle in a drawn out and journey like fashion. They don’t make ‘em like this anymore. Incredibly fun to mix - can you do it?

‘Spinnin’ is all blissed out UKG with dizzying chord stabs and vocal ticks. Wait for the irresistible walking bass line to take you by the arm and go for a stroll.

The drums in ’Feelin’ are so in the pocket that there’s no space for your wallet and keys so forget them and just bubble. Heavy sub bass will have the rest of your jeans flapping.

‘Hush’ closes the EP on a high with trademark LMajor breaks and drawn out arrangement. No need to rush this one, just tune out to the rhodes and Think break workout before the lashing and metallic Amen ramps up the excitement. Shhh, just listen.

Written and recorded throughout 2025 in their longtime ex-taxi-office-turned studio 'Cherry Lips', and produced by frontman Richard Archer alongside longtime collaborator Wolsey White.

The album looks outside the window to the fractured present, and paints it in bold musical strokes, with the same sharp- eyed social commentary that powered their classic debut Stars of CCTV, but with fresh perspective, new sounds and hard-earned freedom.

Written and recorded throughout 2025 in their longtime ex-taxi-office-turned studio 'Cherry Lips', and produced by frontman Richard Archer alongside longtime collaborator Wolsey White.

The album looks outside the window to the fractured present, and paints it in bold musical strokes, with the same sharp- eyed social commentary that powered their classic debut Stars of CCTV, but with fresh perspective, new sounds and hard-earned freedom.

Knocked Loose have announced their hotly anticipated new album, A Different Shade of Blue -- a mammoth of a sophomore release and massive step forward for the band and for hardcore and metal as we know it. Recorded by producer Will Putney, the new LP was approached slower and more methodically. Abandoning the previous 'live in studio' recording approach for something more deliberate, the band cranked out twelve new tracks that deal with all manner of anger, especially loss in lieu of absence. While some musical influences are easily identified - Pantera, Hatebreed, Obituary and more - the band's palette and canvas has expanded by leaps and bounds, incorporating Gothenburg-style death metal (At the Gates, early In Flames), slam metal (Devourment, Dying Fetus), blood-thirsty thrash (Sodom, Kreator), black metal (Craft) and the mind-boggling complexity of latter noisy hardcore like Snapcase and Bloodlet. Clocking in at a lean and mean 37 minutes and featuring guest vocals from Emma Boster of Dying Wish and Keith Buckley of Every Time I Die, A Different Shade of Blue grabs the listener by the throat from the jump and slowly tightening that grip for the duration.

London based producer Akhavelli’s debut (instrumental) album "Moorthodox Psyence", operates like a recovered transmission from a fractured timeline. The project is built around a fictional rupture in 1996 where memory, signal and culture begin drifting out of phase, framing the music as something intercepted rather than composed. Drawing on the dense collage tradition of sample-based production, the record blends experimental Trip-Hop, turntablism and psychedelic rhythm with the hypnotic repetition of Krautrock and the tactile grit of analogue Hip-Hop. Its palette pulls from Japanese Soul and Funk, ex-Soviet Psychedelia, Turkish and North African sources, Arabic textures and classic 90s vocal cuts and scratches. Beneath the surface sits a subtle Sufi influence, positioning the producer less as author than as receiver: sampling as remembrance, sound as a way of piercing the veil between timelines. The result is what Akhavelli calls Breakbeat Psyence: a hypnotic, transportive body of work that feels less like a conventional album and more like a lost artefact recovered from inside a loop in time.

The name Akhavelli is a layered reference. It plays on Machiavelli, both the historical figure and Tupac’s Makaveli, filtered through his background and perspective. Even though "Moorthodox Psyence" is Akhavelli's first release, he has been working under the name Yvng Face, as a producer and as a professional mixing and mastering engineer for over two decades now. He runs a high-end hybrid analog studio and has mixed and mastered major records across multiple genres. That technical background feeds directly into the precision, sonics, and consistency of this album, even though Akhavelli is a distinct artistic identity.

Brazilian duo DEAFKIDS returns with a vital and combustive new album, CICATRIZES DO FUTURO (SCARS OF THE FUTURE).

This nine-track sonic assault forges a path beyond the conventions and boundaries of static musical genres. Here, electronic fury and feverish organic percussion collide with a relentless Latin American punk spirit.

Vinyl is opaque orange with black dot splatter. Limited


PRESS FOR PREVIOUS ALBUM ‘METAPROGRAMACAO’ (NR113)

LEAD REVIEW IN WIRE MAGAZINE: 'BRAZIL'S DEAFKIDS PERFECT AN UNHOLY COLLISION OF DUB, METAL AND PSYCH ON THEIR CACOPHONOUS NEW ALBUM'
'OPENER 'MENTE BICAMERAL' SOUNDS LIKE BAD-TRIP MINISTRY AND THE SEVEN MINUTE CENTREPIECE 'RAIZ NEGATIVA' IS ABSOLUTELY HUGE' 4.5/5 NARC

“ONE OF THE MOST INDIVIDUAL ENDEAVOURS OUR COMMUNITY WILL DELIVER THIS YEAR” ZERO TOLERANCE.

9/10 REVIEW IN LOUDER THAN WAR: “. IT'S NOISY, IT'S INDUSTRIAL, IT'S PUMMELLING AND ULTIMATELY, IT'S COMPLETELY SATISFYING..

Conceptually, the album is a visceral diagnosis of a world intoxicated by its own fictions
of power, tracing the anatomy of a systemic grand deception and exploring its mechanics
of psychological, social, and material domination, the indelible marks imprinted on bodies
and minds and its catastrophic consequences.

It is a journey from the poisoned and addicted collective psyche to the desperate search for an antidote, while the future seems to be already cursed by the very forces that pretend to build it. Yet, for all its thematic weight, CICATRIZES DO FUTURO is hypnotically danceable - physical and ritualistic music that demands body movement as a form of mental cleansing. The album doesn’t just reflect a fractured and violent world — it breathes desire to live and resist through new sonic paths

**LIMITED 500 UK COPIES ON BLACK VINYL** VINYL ONLY RELEASE for RSD: Rival Consoles, UK producer Ryan Lee West, shares his original score for MindsEye, the highly anticipated narrative-driven game from Build A Rocket Boy, the studio led by visionary game director Leslie Benzies. The industrial techno score doesn’t just accompany the game, it’s embedded in the code of the world they have created together. The full score sees its debut on vinyl for the first time as a limited-edition Record Store Day 2026 release.

Set in Redrock, a sprawling desert metropolis ruled by surveillance and automation, MindsEye follows Jacob Diaz, an ex-soldier haunted by fractured memories. As his personal mission escalates, he’s forced to navigate a world shaped by rogue AI, militarized tech, and a fragile grip on control, all while confronting the truth about his past. "In MindsEye, sound is a critical storytelling layer, from ambient detail to emotional drive, every element is designed to shape how players feel inside the world," said Craig Conner, audio director at Build A Rocket Boy. "Rival Consoles’ tracks brought something truly special to that vision. Ryan’s music adds a distinct emotional charge and texture that elevates key moments. It doesn’t just accompany the game, it sharpens its edge, deepens its atmosphere, and perfectly complements the world we’ve built." The score was produced over the span of three years in his London studio, and contains some of West’s most ambitious and heaviest compositions to date.

To coincide with today’s release of the game, the 10-track score is now available to stream in its entirety. MindsEye follows West’s previous scoring work, including bespoke music for 2019’s Black Mirror episode Striking Vipers, featuring ‘I Love This, I Love You’, 2022’s Netflix feature doc El Caso Figo about the legendary football player Luís Figo, and Alexander Whitley’s contemporary dance production Overflow, which was released as a studio album with the same name in 2021. The most recent Rival Consoles album, Landscape from Memory, was released in July 2025 to critical and fan acclaim. A world tour continues into mid-2026.

Andreu G. Serra and Kiran Leonard first met in Lisbon nine years ago, arriving in the city within weeks of each other by chance. Living together in a crumbling warehouse in Alto São João, they recorded a series of improvisations that became The Piri Piri Samplers (Memorials of Distinction, 2019): Serra’s abrasive, tape-warped guitar lines colliding with Leonard’s stark, pedal-free counterpoint. They played a single gallery show, left Lisbon that summer, and then spent almost a decade living in different countries.

When Stroom reissued The Piri Piri Samplers in 2024, the label suggested the duo make a new record. At first, it seemed impossible: Leonard was in London, Ubaldo in southern Catalonia, and their attempts at long-distance recording quickly collapsed into nothing. But the near-failure sparked something. Leonard travelled to Catalonia to restart the process in person; soon after, Serra moved to South London, and the pair began meeting every week.

The result is Making Friends: a richer, more expansive album built over six months. Where The Piri Piri Samplers was assembled from raw improvisations, Making Friends transforms fragments into fully realised songs, weaving together nylon and steel-string guitars, piano, drums, bells, samplers and more. For the first time, Serra and Leonard sing together, each in his own language - Catalan and English - sometimes translating one another in real time.

Musically, Making Friends still carries the jagged dissonance and free-blues spirit of the duo’s earlier work, while opening outward toward everything from emo and blown-out noise to fractured chamber pop. There are only three guests on the album, and they are worth mentioning: Rachel Leonard and Antonia Serra (the musicians' mothers) on the seventh tune, and the American poet Pete Simonelli (of Enablers) appears on Top of Duboce / Tyne Bridge Crossing, one of the album’s two sprawling centerpieces.

At its heart, Making Friends is an album about friendship: about distance, reunion, family, and the stubborn need to make music together. It begins with uncertainty and disconnection, but ends somewhere stronger - with, as put on the closing track, “molta il.lusió per lo que pugue vindre” or “much excitement for what may come.”

Chins For Lefty is the debut album and first recording by Gichard, a new duo chronicling the absurdities of end-stage capitalism and mouldering social rituals from their vantage point in Glasgow, Scotland. Recorded primarily in the band’s home studio straight to tape, Chins For Lefty combines gorgeous, ramshackle melody, DIY kosmische punk, drum machine + synth and, in vocalist/lyricist Lisa Jones, an absurdist commentator on the human condition as it navigates the anxieties of the modern world. Instrumentalist Chas Lalli’s swirling music accompaniment stitches an evocative mix of musical styles, the ragged wind beneath the lyrics’ wings.

Although the duo first collaborated in their previous group Dragged Up, their disparate musical and artistic backgrounds make for an alluring mix in Gichard. Lalli has spent the last 20 years in the Glasgow underground, most notably in the noise rock group VOM, while Lisa Jones’s practice was in poetry and spoken word. Beginning as co vocalist in her previous band, in Gichard her lyrics are centre stage; the vision concocted alongside Lalli amounts to a total world-build.

Chins For Lefty scans almost like a novel, with each track elucidating a skewed universe that bears only some resemblance to the one you and I partake in. Like all works of fiction Gichard’s songs are rooted in reality and the lived experiences of its authors, but here characters are exaggerated, social mores and habits are pulled apart to reveal their inherent alienness. Universal emotions are laid bare, the bright light of anxious examination searching out every hairline fracture in our relationships. Distorted and cracked, the mirror that Gichard hold up to our world is also pretty damn funny.

Opener Cholesterol Test launches an expansive, cosmic guitar and synth intro that belies the Tascam-tape recorder it was recorded onto, like a Chromatics cut substituting anxiety for overt sexuality. Here Jones intones an apology to a non-responsive recipient, in the medium of a long voice note forensically deconstructing an interaction from the night before. Over punk guitars and shuffling, lo-fi drum machine splutters, the narrator in Asking The Apes “prefers things to people” before being taken hostage in the city zoo to confess an obsession which consumes the protagonist, ending with the immortal two liner “I sleep in a cocoon of old newspapers at the end of your street / And I think I have been fired from my job,” On album standout Posthumous Hologram, the narrator is faced with a human simulacra, in this case an undead pop star; the face of the encroaching technological singularity. Yes, it does requests, it can do My Way in 200 different language options. But what are the implications? While you’re left pondering, the alternating deadpan verse delivery and undeniably catchy chorus keep you company.

By the time Break Up With Johnny Dogbirth rattles into view, the band are satirising a suburban inanity blown up to cartoon proportions, soundtracked with a drawled musicality that recalls Rowland S. Howard’s post-Birthday Party balladeering. This approach is furthered on Human Resources: over an angular guitar+bass track, Jones’s short story recalls Dry Cleaning’s erudite lyrical post punk. On Soft Face, Lalli’s guitar and drum machine are swathed in echo and delay, as Jones dissects dating rituals with a west of Scotland drollness. Hamming It Up brings a porcine perspective in a short story that begins with the line “I was breastfeeding discreetly in the service station. She didn’t mind.” What follows is a passage punctured with canned laughter and a narrative involving tribute acts, modern farming techniques.

Brilliant first single Your Private Hell closes the album, the closest the group get to earnest perhaps, filtered through a surreal central Scottishness. While Your Private Hell might seem like a sardonic take down of romance, perhaps it’s the very distillation of love in all its awkwardness, selflessness and weirdness. Here there’s a distinctive Glasgow-ness to this doomed romance: the protagonist falls for an outsider, offers them cheap jarred hot dogs and carbolic soap (the infamous, excoriating soap dished out in schools and government buildings throughout Scotland), offers to cover up a murder, stalks them in the all-night Spar. It’s a short story of intrigue, murder and the irresistible pull of self-sacrifice to share in someone else’s suffering. If that’s not love, what is it? You can see this vision mapped out in black and white on their video for 'Your Private Hell'.

Bursting out of the Scottish underground with a bellyfull of hype, full page press coverage in Scottish nationals, and a sold-out launch show at Glasgow Art School, the Scottish electronic post-punk duo have fast become known for their abrasive sound, biting Glaswegian lyricism, and explosive live shows This brand new EP (with bonus former EP 'Bootlickers' and single 'The Mullets Are Moving In' on the B Side), blends sharp social commentary with distorted bass, fractured electronics, and heavy rhythms... Doss have built a thrilling reputation through relentless DIY touring and uncompromising performances, with support slots ticked off alongside the likes of Deadletter and Fat Dog in recent times.

Josh Mason’s new collection, "Wave Salt +7," emerges from an oblique origin. Unearthed from a dormant hard drive, it documents a set of work sessions only partially recoverable, their original continuity and intent fractured by time and technical failure. What remains is a constellation of mercurial gestures that proves, against all odds, to be entirely consonant with Mason’s ongoing musical concerns.

In a sense, the very condition of partiality proves generative, with elision operating on multiple levels - structural, sonic, and archival - shaping both the music itself and the circumstances of its (re)appearance. Phrases surface only to be truncated or displaced, hovering at the edge of resolution, and transitions are implied rather than fully enacted. Absence functions not as a deficit, but as an important compositional resource.

Central to the album’s sound is a distinctive use of vocoding. Deployed not to simulate vocal presence but as a tool for tonal sculpting, it yields a shifting lattice of smeared harmonics, angular melody, and attenuated noise. Sounds are pressed through one another, their edges softened, shifted, or selectively erased, producing surfaces simultaneously articulated and porous. Rather than reconstructing a lost whole, the album posits a mode of listening attuned to gaps, interruptions, and unstable forms. Even so, in keeping with Mason’s broader practice, this music remains grounded in melodic logic and a distinctly human scale, ensuring that its fragmentary structures register not solely as experiments, but as expressions of proximity and feeling.

Peach’s Soak Vol. 1 is a cross-Canadian link-up with Mood Hut that moves through slower, deeper waters.

The mini-LP was written after a tour through Asia that opened up something new in how Peach approaches making music. The turning point, as she tells it, came during a visit to a neighbourhood sento in Tokyo, while surrounded by steam rising in suspended time, something clicked about the relationship between the body and the sounds she wanted to make.

She’d been learning about cycle synching and working out with the phases of her hormonal cycle, respecting energy fluctuations throughout the course of a month, and decided to apply the approach to writing music. She allowed shifts in energy to guide tempo, density, and emotional tone rather than strictly answering to the floor.

Soak came out of this exploration, sketched and layered with field recordings from her trips to Vietnam and the Philippines during a challenging time in her life. Fragments of heat, air, and shoreline are absorbed into the music itself. Vapourous pads, low-end weight, fractured percussion, and melodies hover at the edge of dissolution. Water runs structurally through the record in surges, in tidal pacing, in the slow accumulation of texture.

Wherever this music finds you, please enjoy the Soak.

Through her work across five Vastum albums, Leila Abdul-Rauf has been a sonorous contributor to 20 Buck Spin’s discography for more than 15 years now. Concurrent to that she’s also amassed an impressive body of solo work whereby she could showcase the full range of her multi-instrumental artistic and vocal talents. We now bring that part of Leila’s output to 20 Buck Spin showcasing her darkest and most confrontational material to date with new album ‘Andros Insidium’. On ‘Andros Insidium’ Leila draws us into a ceremonial descent, through the architecture of shadow itself. Unfolding like a ritual text etched in obsidian, each movement traces the violent and sacred geometry of transformation. The presence and wisdom of the feminine divine looms throughout, as an ancient and uncompromising force, in conflict with everything buried, exiled and made monstrous by the machinery of societal pressures and unrealistic expectations. The album delves deep into the dark vastness of the psyche of woman: wild, ugly, vulnerable and powerful. Sonically ‘Andros Insidium’ is a mutation of the cinematic dark-ambient, industrial and ritual folk expressed in prior releases, now sharpened into something far darker, more narrative and intimate. Leila’s vocal work becomes a new focus with a wider variety of styles and characters, exorcising the demons of patriarchal fragmentation and revenge fantasy as lived myth. In its most potent moments, ‘Andros Insidium’ suggests that wholeness is not purity or light, but the terrifying act of reclaiming everything that was discarded, and learning to speak with its voice. * New solo album of Leila-Abdul Rauf of VASTUM (also has played in Amber Asylum, Hammers of Misfortune, and others) * Dark and heavy mix of Dark Ambient, Industrial, Ritual / Neo Folk, Electronic

* FFO: Dead Can Dance, Diamanda Galas, Arcana, Amber Asylum, Jarboe/Swans, Chelsea Wolfe, Cold Meat Industry

Transformation, growth, and rebirth drive Ascent Effort, the latest release from Portland, Oregon trio Rhododendron. The title points upward, but not toward arrival. The record documents a period of change defined as much by instability as progress, where confusion and renewal unfold at the same pace.
Formed in 2019 while the band’s members were still in high school, Rhododendron’s Ezra Chong (guitar, vocals), Gage Walker (bass), and Noah Mortola (drums) set out to push their musical limits without regard for genre boundaries or audience expectation. For Ascent Effort, the band joined the roster of The Flenser, aligning with a label that has long championed artists who work in tension rather than comfort.

In the past seven years the trio has developed a sound rooted in technical precision and repetition. Drawing from the angular experimentation of underground rock in the 1980s and 1990s alongside elements of jazz, ambient, and progressive music, their compositions are deliberate with intensity. Riffs fracture and reform, rhythms lock into patterns only to break apart, and extended passages build pressure before shifting direction.
Performing regularly in Portland, the band has cultivated an intense and loyal local following. The live setting hardened the material. Songs grew heavier, sharper, more physical through repetition and high volume.

The material that became Ascent Effort was tested on tour before entering the studio. Written largely in sequence, the album traces a period of personal change and internal friction. Growth is not always clean; sometimes it grinds forward. Nothing resolves without cost. Confusion and strain do not sit outside the songs, they shape their architecture. That is what the band has accomplished with Ascent Effort, a work that is not always clean but well-shaped by struggle and growth. The Pacific Northwest lingers in the background of the record, its long winters and brief summers echoing the album’s shifts between abrasion and restraint. Ascent Effort does not offer catharsis in the traditional sense. It allows tension to remain. In that unresolved space, transformation takes form and a band in motion is revealed.

Transformation, growth, and rebirth drive Ascent Effort, the latest release from Portland, Oregon trio Rhododendron. The title points upward, but not toward arrival. The record documents a period of change defined as much by instability as progress, where confusion and renewal unfold at the same pace.
Formed in 2019 while the band’s members were still in high school, Rhododendron’s Ezra Chong (guitar, vocals), Gage Walker (bass), and Noah Mortola (drums) set out to push their musical limits without regard for genre boundaries or audience expectation. For Ascent Effort, the band joined the roster of The Flenser, aligning with a label that has long championed artists who work in tension rather than comfort.

In the past seven years the trio has developed a sound rooted in technical precision and repetition. Drawing from the angular experimentation of underground rock in the 1980s and 1990s alongside elements of jazz, ambient, and progressive music, their compositions are deliberate with intensity. Riffs fracture and reform, rhythms lock into patterns only to break apart, and extended passages build pressure before shifting direction.
Performing regularly in Portland, the band has cultivated an intense and loyal local following. The live setting hardened the material. Songs grew heavier, sharper, more physical through repetition and high volume.

The material that became Ascent Effort was tested on tour before entering the studio. Written largely in sequence, the album traces a period of personal change and internal friction. Growth is not always clean; sometimes it grinds forward. Nothing resolves without cost. Confusion and strain do not sit outside the songs, they shape their architecture. That is what the band has accomplished with Ascent Effort, a work that is not always clean but well-shaped by struggle and growth. The Pacific Northwest lingers in the background of the record, its long winters and brief summers echoing the album’s shifts between abrasion and restraint. Ascent Effort does not offer catharsis in the traditional sense. It allows tension to remain. In that unresolved space, transformation takes form and a band in motion is revealed.

Transformation, growth, and rebirth drive Ascent Effort, the latest release from Portland, Oregon trio Rhododendron. The title points upward, but not toward arrival. The record documents a period of change defined as much by instability as progress, where confusion and renewal unfold at the same pace.
Formed in 2019 while the band’s members were still in high school, Rhododendron’s Ezra Chong (guitar, vocals), Gage Walker (bass), and Noah Mortola (drums) set out to push their musical limits without regard for genre boundaries or audience expectation. For Ascent Effort, the band joined the roster of The Flenser, aligning with a label that has long championed artists who work in tension rather than comfort.

In the past seven years the trio has developed a sound rooted in technical precision and repetition. Drawing from the angular experimentation of underground rock in the 1980s and 1990s alongside elements of jazz, ambient, and progressive music, their compositions are deliberate with intensity. Riffs fracture and reform, rhythms lock into patterns only to break apart, and extended passages build pressure before shifting direction.
Performing regularly in Portland, the band has cultivated an intense and loyal local following. The live setting hardened the material. Songs grew heavier, sharper, more physical through repetition and high volume.

The material that became Ascent Effort was tested on tour before entering the studio. Written largely in sequence, the album traces a period of personal change and internal friction. Growth is not always clean; sometimes it grinds forward. Nothing resolves without cost. Confusion and strain do not sit outside the songs, they shape their architecture. That is what the band has accomplished with Ascent Effort, a work that is not always clean but well-shaped by struggle and growth. The Pacific Northwest lingers in the background of the record, its long winters and brief summers echoing the album’s shifts between abrasion and restraint. Ascent Effort does not offer catharsis in the traditional sense. It allows tension to remain. In that unresolved space, transformation takes form and a band in motion is revealed.

In an engrossing lattice of polyrhythmic beat science and deep atmospheric meditation, Samurai Music is thrilled to welcome Marco Shuttle to the fold for the Sumud EP.

Since his early years locked into the 00s London techno scene, Marco Sartorelli has developed as an artist entirely on his own terms. Through the rush of new ideas and cross-pollination that has characterised cutting-edge techno over the past 20-odd years, Sartorelli has travelled as Marco Shuttle from one considered stylistic concept to the next. On his own Eerie label and across expansive releases for respected outposts such as Spazio Disponibile, Incensio and Astral Industries, he's taken an exploratory approach to rhythm and spatial design while always drawing on intentional thematic frameworks, creating distinctive and immersive dance music in the process.

As Samurai Music continues to celebrate the rich seams of inspiration where deep techno and drum & bass intersect, Sartorelli's malleable, mysterious strain of drum work fits right in and sets a captivating tone for the label's operations in 2026. 'Sumud' is a steely drum mantra dealing in fractured patterns with the primal patina of the early Artificial Intelligence era, while 'Las Dunas de Taroa' leans on gently pulsing melancholia undulating at a half-time pace. 'Iso 50' taps into raw, analogue minimalism once more, evoking the sound of Roman Flugel's Ro70 records in their icy, alien formation. Completing the set, we're guided towards the tense electronica of 'Polylayering What I've Got', where uneasy melodic chimes interlock with intricately programmed drum machines.

There's a distinct sense of golden-era, mid-90s electronica coursing through Sumud EP, but Sartorelli shrouds the classic tools at his disposal in his subtle signature atmospherics, pushing towards a plain of expression that transcends time.

Carrier’s debut album features eight elegantly rude arrangements that dance in negative space between Photek’s frictional syncopations, Rhythm & Sound’s dubwise minimalism, and Torsten Pröfrock’s fractured dynamics, bolstered on two tracks by contributions from Voice Actor and Memotone, summoning a noirish, jazzier frisson to his signature metrics and temporalities.

Since hard-snagging our ears and feet in 2023 with 12”s for FELT and his own eponymous label, Guy Brewer’s Carrier has become the go-to project for anyone who had almost given up on chasing these sorts of ultra-subtle but vitally distinctive new permutations in dance music. For the past two years, his unpredictable variations within a style have kept us all tip-toed and seat-edged with organisations of a finely chiselled percussive palette and smouldering ambient noise that distils the salient aspects and spirits of D&B, dub techno, electro-acoustic music, and trip hop with unique traction. In effect, he’s enacted a clear leap of imagination from previous work issued as part of Commix and solo as Shifted that only continues to reveal hallucinatory psychoacoustics on this first album detail.

»Rhythm Immortal« sees Brewer tilt the project into slower, resoundingly more atmospheric realms, better to luxuriate in the instinctive guile and integer-stepping style ’n’ pattern of his incredible sound. At the album’s poles, a vocal cameo by cult gynoid Voice Actor follows from Gavsborg’s on a preceding 7” single to ideally model his sound’s mutability and compatibility with trip hop forms, and Memotone helps seal the deal with a hovering glow lent to »Offshore«, whilst Carrier jostles the reins throughout with masterful control of his thing, crisply purposed to the album canvas. In that context, it’s perfectly adaptable to bodies both supine or in motion, ushering a hypnagogic sway with »A Point Most Crucial«, and hingeing around the slightest interplay of 16th-note hi-hat ruffles and recoiling reverbs on »Outer Shell«, or blissfully stepping on knife-edge 2-step on »Wave After Wave«.

The album conveys a deeply personal pulse and spiritual devotion to that kind of all-tension-no-release mode typical of so much music we love – from Kode9’s earliest re-factoring of Prince to Photek’s »Ni-Ten-Ichi-Ryu«, from T++/Dynamo and Traktor’s asymmetric dynamics to Burial’s shockout debut – refactored with a rare conviction in its unspoken powers to activate the eyes-shut imagination.

Pete Lambrou, the visionary composer and multi-instrumentalist behind VLMV (pronounced "Alma"), is one of the most singular voices emerging from the ambient, post-rock, and experimental scenes in the UK. With a career that spans atmospheric solo work, film and television scoring, and evocative live performance, Lambrou has carved out a distinctive sonic universe he describes as "ambient-ish post-something" (Pete Lambrou) a playful yet accurate summation of a sound that is at once genre-fluid and deeply immersive. The album takes its title from Sara Teasdale's 1918 poem and Ray Bradbury's later short story, both of which imagine a world continuing quietly after humanity's disappearance. This idea became the gravitational centre around which the record formed. Written during a period of deep engagement with climate fiction and ecological thought, `There Will Come Soft Rains` reflects on humanity's legacy, its technological ambition, and its uneasy relationship with the natural world. A century on from Teasdale's poem, the balance of power feels less certain, and Lambrou's music inhabits that tension with remarkable subtlety. "The initial ideas stem mostly from chaos, randomness or sound exploration and then get shaped as I go. Typically, and certainly for this album. It's evolved since album 1, which was more song / chord based. It's a fun process of finding the sound and then working out whether it's speaking to me - or merely just a cool noise. That's fun, but it sometimes can't evolve or progress, so then begins the long journey of shaping it into some sort of song format - which doesn't have to be a-typica,l but whatever feels right to me. The subject matter and overall theme is important too - it's got to all make sense within itself. There's no point having a slowly creeping theme and then rush the music." (Pete Lambrou) VLMV embody an emotional honesty that works with patience and nuance. Whether you're encountering his music for the first time or returning to its quiet depths, VLMV offers an aural space that resonates long after the final note fades. Lambrou's singular sonic language sits at the intersection of ambient, post-rock, modern classical, and experimental electronic music, while remaining unmistakably human at its core. "Instrumentally it's far more synth based - as soon as I had the concept, I wanted to make sure technology clash and marry with traditional instruments (at different times) in a sort of slow-moving dance I suppose. One is nature, one is human development and technology. Sometimes working together and sometimes in opposition. On my previous albums I'd say that at least half of the tracks started life as songs, whereas with `There Will Come Soft Rains` I think the majority (if not all) started as experiments in sound." (Pete Lambrou) Sonically, the album is VLMV at its most cinematic and textural. Warm, intimate piano figures and elegiac string arrangements are set against unstable modular synthesis, fractured rhythms, and evolving sound design. The organic and the artificial are locked in a slow, shifting dialogue, mirroring the album's central themes. At times the music feels tender and nostalgic, at others unpredictable and mournful, yet it never tips into despair. Instead, a quiet resilience runs throughout the record. "The album is slightly unusual in that it was mixed in Dolby Atmos before being mixed down to stereo. Most, if not all, do it the other way round. That's because I got to work with a superb mix engineer who just happens to live opposite. It was extremely random and lucky, moving to a tiny hamlet in the South of England and there being a Dolby Atmos studio opposite with a genius of an engineer. We had in mind that we would do it this way round and enjoy the mix process and give everything its own space - it still had issues when folding down to stereo, but overall a more pleasurable mix!" (Pete Lambrou) There Will Come Soft Rains has a geological sense of time: themes creep, expand, erode, and reform, resisting conventional structures in favour of something more patient and immersive. Each sound exists because it needs to; they move, recede, and emerge with a three-dimensional clarity that enhances the music's cinematic quality, giving each element room to breathe while maintaining an enveloping sense of cohesion. Lambrou's unique voice is Intimate and fragile, his vocals hover above the instrumentation, a guiding thread through the expansive soundscapes, drawing listeners closer into the emotional core of each piece. "Long time vocal collaborator Anja Madhvani did lots of harmonies on the album - I wanted to include her voice as much as possible on this album. In terms of string players - 3/4 have been long term collaborators with me. Marie Schreer actually recorded all strings on my first album ALMA, and Fraser & Clodagh have worked on every album (and occasional live shows) since Stranded Not Lost. In terms of art - Joel Cammarata designed the cover, and accompanying art - he designed Sing With Abandon and I absolutely adore his work, but also - he's so great at understanding and developing and capturing the concept." (Pete Lambrou) Layered harmonies drift through the music like distant signals or half-remembered voices. Madhvani's presence adds a human fragility to the album's vast soundscapes, reinforcing the sense of memory and longing that runs beneath the surface. The strings, performed by a close circle of trusted collaborators, further ground the record in warmth and physicality, acting as a counterweight to the synthetic elements that threaten to unravel it. "Despite the heavy subject matter, I wanted to create an album that imparts hope and optimism, marrying traditional instrumentation as nostalgia, with technological innovation through the randomness of modular synths." (Pete Lambrou) The partnership with Pelagic Records feels both organic and significant. Known for championing artists who value emotional weight, sonic ambition, and artistic integrity, the label provides a natural home for VLMV's work. Lambrou's music shares Pelagic's ethos: immersive, patient, and unafraid of scale whether intimate or vast. With There Will Come Soft Rains, Pete Lambrou has crafted a work that feels timely without being didactic, expansive without being overwhelming. It stands as a quiet, but powerful statement that lingers long after the final notes fade. FOR FANS OF Sigur Ros * Olafur Arnalds * Radiohead * Keaton Henson * This Will Destroy You

Pete Lambrou, the visionary composer and multi-instrumentalist behind VLMV (pronounced "Alma"), is one of the most singular voices emerging from the ambient, post-rock, and experimental scenes in the UK. With a career that spans atmospheric solo work, film and television scoring, and evocative live performance, Lambrou has carved out a distinctive sonic universe he describes as "ambient-ish post-something" (Pete Lambrou) a playful yet accurate summation of a sound that is at once genre-fluid and deeply immersive. The album takes its title from Sara Teasdale's 1918 poem and Ray Bradbury's later short story, both of which imagine a world continuing quietly after humanity's disappearance. This idea became the gravitational centre around which the record formed. Written during a period of deep engagement with climate fiction and ecological thought, `There Will Come Soft Rains` reflects on humanity's legacy, its technological ambition, and its uneasy relationship with the natural world. A century on from Teasdale's poem, the balance of power feels less certain, and Lambrou's music inhabits that tension with remarkable subtlety. "The initial ideas stem mostly from chaos, randomness or sound exploration and then get shaped as I go. Typically, and certainly for this album. It's evolved since album 1, which was more song / chord based. It's a fun process of finding the sound and then working out whether it's speaking to me - or merely just a cool noise. That's fun, but it sometimes can't evolve or progress, so then begins the long journey of shaping it into some sort of song format - which doesn't have to be a-typica,l but whatever feels right to me. The subject matter and overall theme is important too - it's got to all make sense within itself. There's no point having a slowly creeping theme and then rush the music." (Pete Lambrou) VLMV embody an emotional honesty that works with patience and nuance. Whether you're encountering his music for the first time or returning to its quiet depths, VLMV offers an aural space that resonates long after the final note fades. Lambrou's singular sonic language sits at the intersection of ambient, post-rock, modern classical, and experimental electronic music, while remaining unmistakably human at its core. "Instrumentally it's far more synth based - as soon as I had the concept, I wanted to make sure technology clash and marry with traditional instruments (at different times) in a sort of slow-moving dance I suppose. One is nature, one is human development and technology. Sometimes working together and sometimes in opposition. On my previous albums I'd say that at least half of the tracks started life as songs, whereas with `There Will Come Soft Rains` I think the majority (if not all) started as experiments in sound." (Pete Lambrou) Sonically, the album is VLMV at its most cinematic and textural. Warm, intimate piano figures and elegiac string arrangements are set against unstable modular synthesis, fractured rhythms, and evolving sound design. The organic and the artificial are locked in a slow, shifting dialogue, mirroring the album's central themes. At times the music feels tender and nostalgic, at others unpredictable and mournful, yet it never tips into despair. Instead, a quiet resilience runs throughout the record. "The album is slightly unusual in that it was mixed in Dolby Atmos before being mixed down to stereo. Most, if not all, do it the other way round. That's because I got to work with a superb mix engineer who just happens to live opposite. It was extremely random and lucky, moving to a tiny hamlet in the South of England and there being a Dolby Atmos studio opposite with a genius of an engineer. We had in mind that we would do it this way round and enjoy the mix process and give everything its own space - it still had issues when folding down to stereo, but overall a more pleasurable mix!" (Pete Lambrou) There Will Come Soft Rains has a geological sense of time: themes creep, expand, erode, and reform, resisting conventional structures in favour of something more patient and immersive. Each sound exists because it needs to; they move, recede, and emerge with a three-dimensional clarity that enhances the music's cinematic quality, giving each element room to breathe while maintaining an enveloping sense of cohesion. Lambrou's unique voice is Intimate and fragile, his vocals hover above the instrumentation, a guiding thread through the expansive soundscapes, drawing listeners closer into the emotional core of each piece. "Long time vocal collaborator Anja Madhvani did lots of harmonies on the album - I wanted to include her voice as much as possible on this album. In terms of string players - 3/4 have been long term collaborators with me. Marie Schreer actually recorded all strings on my first album ALMA, and Fraser & Clodagh have worked on every album (and occasional live shows) since Stranded Not Lost. In terms of art - Joel Cammarata designed the cover, and accompanying art - he designed Sing With Abandon and I absolutely adore his work, but also - he's so great at understanding and developing and capturing the concept." (Pete Lambrou) Layered harmonies drift through the music like distant signals or half-remembered voices. Madhvani's presence adds a human fragility to the album's vast soundscapes, reinforcing the sense of memory and longing that runs beneath the surface. The strings, performed by a close circle of trusted collaborators, further ground the record in warmth and physicality, acting as a counterweight to the synthetic elements that threaten to unravel it. "Despite the heavy subject matter, I wanted to create an album that imparts hope and optimism, marrying traditional instrumentation as nostalgia, with technological innovation through the randomness of modular synths." (Pete Lambrou) The partnership with Pelagic Records feels both organic and significant. Known for championing artists who value emotional weight, sonic ambition, and artistic integrity, the label provides a natural home for VLMV's work. Lambrou's music shares Pelagic's ethos: immersive, patient, and unafraid of scale whether intimate or vast. With There Will Come Soft Rains, Pete Lambrou has crafted a work that feels timely without being didactic, expansive without being overwhelming. It stands as a quiet, but powerful statement that lingers long after the final notes fade. FOR FANS OF Sigur Ros * Olafur Arnalds * Radiohead * Keaton Henson * This Will Destroy You

Laurel Halo returns with an album of original soundtrack music, composed for the film Midnight Zone by visual artist Julian Charrière. Following the path of a drifting Fresnel lighthouse lens as it descends through the Clarion-Clipperton Fracture Zone — a remote abyssal plain in the Pacific Ocean, rich in rare metals and increasingly targeted for deep-sea mining — the film traces a descent into one of Earth’s last untouched ecosystems.


Charrière’s film reveals the deep not as void, but as a luminous biome teeming with fragile life: bioluminescent creatures, swirling schools of fish, and elusive predators. The suspended lens becomes an abyssal campfire, attracting species caught in the tides of uncertainty, their futures hanging in the balance.


Echoing this tension, Halo’s compositions evoke a sensory freefall, where gravity falters and light and sound flicker in uncertain rhythms. Midnight Zone is a sonic drift through the space between what we seek to extract, fail to understand, and must protect.


Halo’s score evokes the life that exists beyond our physical airbound capacity. The material features long, subtle passages of electro-acoustic ambient, drone and sound design, slowly flowing and unfolding with rich detail. The music, composed largely on a Montage 8 synthesizer and Yamaha TransAcoustic piano at the Yamaha studios in New York City, possesses an uncanny quality: that of synthetic waveforms being amplified and sung through the stringboard of the physical body of the TransAcoustic piano. Combined with stacks of violin and viol da gamba, the music on Midnight Zone possesses trace elements of a human hand in an otherwise sunken landscape. Patient, submerged, and alive. The album will be the third on Halo’s imprint, Awe.


The film is central to Charrière’s current solo exhibition Midnight Zone. The exhibition engages with underwater ecologies, exploring the complexity of water as an elemental medium affected by anthropogenic degradation. Reflecting upon its flow and materiality, profundity and politics, its mundane and sacral dimensions, the solo show acts as a kaleidoscope, inviting us to dive deep.

Oceanine, Jolanda Moletta’s third album and her first for Beacon Sound, is a powerful and ethereal statement of artistic community. Expanding on her previous work, each track represents a collaboration with a different female vocalist, with the foundational elements being generated entirely by her own voice. By turns haunting, enchanting, and inspiring, you won’t want to come up for air once you’ve been pulled under. Representing a
musical practice that is distinctly feminist, this is an album with a longer view in mind, to an age when the altars were to goddesses and women were centered as powerful beings representing the earth’s cycles of regeneration and renewal. Oceanine then, in all its beauty, can be viewed as an album of survival. It is deeply transportive, accessing something that lies within all of us. As the late, great Lithuanian folklorist and archaeologist Marija Gimbutas noted, “We must refocus our collective memory. The necessity for this has never been greater as we discover that the path of 'progress' is extinguishing the very conditions for life on earth.”

Jolanda Moletta is a multimedia artist and one-woman electronic choir. She creates wordless compositions through extended vocal techniques, integrating wearable-controlled live processing, alongside symbolic visuals. Moletta considers her performances to be a collective ritual and creates her Sonic & Visual Spells following the cycles of nature and the moon. Jolanda's 2022 critically acclaimed album Nine Spells was released on the Ambientologist label, followed by Night Caves on Whitelabrecs in 2025. Moletta’s artistic practice is a radical and spiritual journey through sound art, ritual, and the symbolic archaeology of the feminine.

Oceanine is inspired by sirens, water nymphs, and the timeless call of the sea. At its core lies Jolanda’s deep, lifelong connection to the Mediterranean Sea and to the ancient and modern myths and folklore that have emerged from its waters. Growing up by the Mar Ligure, Jolanda was surrounded by stories carried by salt, wind, and waves: legends of sirens, echoes of ancient voices, and the sea as both origin and oracle. This intimate relationship with the Mediterranean is not merely a backdrop, but a living source that shapes Oceanine’s emotional, symbolic, and sonic world.

Each track features a different female vocalist, creating a rich tapestry of voices, styles, and perspectives. This artistic choice not only broadens the album’s sonic palette, but also deepens its narrative core: celebrating the power, beauty, and mystique of feminine energy through myth, history, and sound.

The entire album is built exclusively from the human voice, processed and layered, yet always remaining voice, and nothing else. For each piece, Jolanda invited every vocalist involved to contribute a raw stem: a short, unedited melodic fragment of just a few seconds, inspired by the album’s themes. These intimate vocal seeds became the foundation of each track: the guest artists’ voices appear as brief, melodic stems, while the entire surrounding “orchestral” fabric is created solely from Jolanda’s own layered and processed voice. In this way, Jolanda’s voice becomes the Ocean itself, embracing, absorbing, and carrying the sirens’ calls within a vast, immersive soundscape. Every song is a unique expression of the feminine experience, revealing its depth, complexity, and emotional range, echoing the call of the sea and the many faces of the siren archetype.

The figure of the siren has transformed across centuries. In myths of Ancient Greece and Rome, sirens were hybrid beings, part woman, part bird, whose irresistible songs lured sailors to their doom. During the Middle Ages, the image shifted toward the half-woman, half-fish figure, often associated with temptation and danger. Historically, the voice of women has often been feared. Sirens were considered harbingers of misfortune not simply because they seduced or destroyed, but because they were powerful liminal beings.

In Ancient Greek, sirens functioned as psychopomps: figures who existed between worlds and guided souls, especially between life and death. Their songs were believed to carry forbidden knowledge, including prophetic insight and the ability to reveal truths about fate and the future. The danger of the sirens lay in what they revealed: knowledge that humans were not meant, or ready, to hear.

Oceanine confronts this legacy head-on. The voices heard throughout the album are not merely beautiful: they are dark and luminous, wild and enchanting, magical, soothing, dreamy, and at times fractured or distorted. They whisper, lament, beckon, and enchant. Like sirens, they skim the surface of the water and sink into its depths, hovering on the edge between tenderness and danger, vulnerability and power. They rise toward the sky, dissolve into mist, and return as echoes charged with raw, elemental emotion: voices that seduce, warn, mourn, and remember. They refuse to be reduced to decoration.

Alongside the album’s release in May, Oceanine will also unfold as a visual and performative work through a short art film. The film includes a live session recorded inside a sea cave facing the Mar Ligure, the very coastline where Jolanda spent her childhood, dreaming of sirens and listening to the sea as if it were speaking directly to her. This site-specific performance reconnects the music to its place of origin, allowing the voice to resonate within stone, water, and air, and transforming the cave into both a sanctuary and a threshold between myth and reality.

What if the sirens’ songs were considered dangerous because they carried another truth, an ancient truth long forgotten?

Oceanine embraces the idea that we are still deeply woven into myth. Though we may see ourselves as rational and modern beings, our world is saturated with ancient symbols and archetypes, often distorted, simplified, or stripped of their original meaning. And if those symbols are allowed to shift, if the mirror once held by the siren becomes an invitation to look beyond appearances and into what has been obscured, then we may finally uncover a deeper truth and reclaim the voice that was always ours.

Oceanine is not just an album. It is a reclamation, a spell, and a call from the depths.

Yearly compilation series RADAR KEROXEN return with its sixth volume of theme-driven releases, continuing to chart the fractured sonic terrain of the Canary Islands’ undergrowth.

After digging through indie, psychedelia, shoegaze, and site-specific drone, Vol. 6 dives headfirst into the after-hours circuitry of the islas afortunadas, assembling a hand-picked selection of underground club mutations from five long-standing operators within the local electronic ecosystem.

If Vol. 5 was shaped by the cavernous resonance of Santa Cruz’s obsolete gasoline tank, Vol. 6 is fuelled by late-night club aesthetics and mid-90s hardware obsession. Opening the record, Dancelwerk — one of the archipelago’s early modular practitioners — delivers tightly wound structures nodding to Warp-era golden agefuturism and southern Tenerife’s rave boom. Cmos34 follow with their first-ever published material, injecting instability into the system through improvised techno rituals built on friction and feedback.

Jorganes drags the narrative deeper into hypnotic territory, stripping club music down to its skeletal pulse and channeling disciplined repetition and late-90s minimalism into austere, trance-inducing momentum. From Gran Canaria, Sunday German Flowers bends the mood toward cinematic dub: heavy low-end pressure, spoken word, and nocturnal atmospheres stitched into slow-burning club noir.

Closing the circle, Nico Hernández pulls the compilation back to volcanic ground with ambient compositions shaped by Lanzarote’s raw geological landscape — basalt echoes, tectonic silence, and island isolation rendered in sound.

As always, the release is housed in a post-tropical collage artwork by Pura Márquez.

Master by Daniel García
Artwork by Pura Marquéz

It's a realisation that the ground beneath our feet is alive, and we're all just passengers on its pulse. It's that hum of dread and wonder that defines Armed For Apocalypse's fourth full- length album: a towering, grooved- out, post- metal monolith carved from grief, power, and purpose. Formed in Chico, California between longtime friends Nick Harris (drums) and Cayle Hunter (guitar), Armed For Apocalypse is a what- if turned war machine. Over the years, the band has endured enough shakeups and setbacks to bury most acts: relocations, divorces, day jobs, family changes and not to mention complete lineup overhauls. But where others fractured, AFA sharpened.

Death Is Not The End collaborate with Uzbek label Maqom Soul to deliver an LP counterpart to last year's mixtape of the same title, compiling specially picked & fully licensed individual belters from the ex-soviet studios of Central Asian republics between 1978 and 1989 - incl. Uzbek, Tajik, Kurdish & Uyghur artists pulling traditional folk motifs together with pop & rock and psych elements.

"These recordings do not form a smooth or coherent history. They feel more like a sequence of discoveries made at different moments and in different circumstances. Songs and instrumental pieces that once lived inside specific contexts radio broadcasts, philharmonic programs, touring routes now sit side by side, revealing hidden connections as well as clear fractures between them.

Nasiba Abdullaeva appears here as a voice from the end of an era. Trained within a conservatory system, she worked inside the format of the Soviet pop song while filling it with melodic logic that did not come from Moscow or Leningrad. Her voice is soft and sustained, shaped by Eastern melisma, and it never functions as decoration. Even in tightly structured songs there is a sense of resistance, an effort to preserve a musical language rooted in Uzbek tradition rather than fully adapted to an all Union standard.

The ensemble Sintez, later renamed Navo, represents a different path. Beginning as a student rock group, the band was gradually absorbed into the official VIA system with all its limitations and compromises. Yet it was precisely within those boundaries that Sintez and Navo developed a recognizable sound. Electric guitars and jazz rock harmonies do not overpower the folk material but remain in tension with it. Their recordings feel like negotiations between what the musicians wanted to play and what they were allowed to perform.

The Tajik ensemble Gulshan reflects an institutional approach carried to a high professional level. Formed under television and radio structures, the group treated folk material almost as a written score. Carefully constructed arrangements, close attention to orchestration, and restrained use of pop techniques define their sound. There is less spontaneity here, but a strong sense of discipline and structure, where national melody becomes part of a carefully controlled sonic framework.

Koma Wetan occupies a very different space. Formed in the 1970s, this Kurdish rock group approached poetry and folklore as tools of cultural assertion. Their psychedelic rock never feels like a stylistic borrowing. Instead it functions as a contemporary vessel for language and themes that might otherwise have remained unheard. Even today these recordings sound fragile and stubborn at the same time.

The Uyghur ensemble Yashlik, closely connected to a musical drama theatre, operated somewhere between stage performance and popular music. Their songs are built on folk melodies but shaped for wide audiences. What emerges is a constant attempt to preserve the recognizability of Uyghur musical identity without freezing it in a folkloric frame. Yashlik's music exists in a state of balance between representation and development.

Digging Central Asia does not attempt to establish hierarchies or offer a single wayof listening. Names and dates matter less than the sound itself. Tape noise, abrupt transitions, and unexpected timbres remain part of the material rather than flaws to be corrected. This music existed at the crossroads of multiple routes geographic, cultural, and ideological. Heard today in a new context, it no longer feels peripheral. Instead it stands as a reminder that the history of popular music is far more fragmented, layered, and polyphonic than it is usually allowed to be."

Niagara return to Discrepant with Buxtehude, a new work bending the legacy of Dietrich Buxtehude into their own fractured, electro-organic language.

Rather than a tribute, Buxtehude feels like an abstract dialogue with the Baroque composer’s sense of structure and flow—reimagined through Niagara’s raw synth work, off-grid rhythms and subtly warped melodic cycles. The trio let the music grow from the inside out: patterns expand and contract, harmonies tilt slightly off their axis, and small details accumulate until each piece reveals its own internal gravity.

There’s a clarity to Buxtehude that feels carved rather than composed. Tracks move with a quiet insistence, like mechanical organisms finding coherence through repetition and drift. Melodic fragments surface briefly, disappear, then return transformed, lending the album a strange balance between austerity and warmth.

With Buxtehude, Niagara continue to refine their unmistakable approach—playful yet rigorous, minimal yet full of life— remaining entirely their own.

With Dispersion, Loom & Thread return to the volatile architecture of the expanded piano trio - and quietly fracture it from within.

Daniel Klein (drums), Tobias Fröhlich (double bass) and Tom Schneider (keys, sampler) remain the sole agents on stage and in the final recording. The triangle holds. And yet, the field has expanded. For their second studio album, the trio fed their improvisations with the timbral signatures of guest saxophone and vibraphone players - not just as additional voices to be featured, but also as material to be absorbed, atomized and redistributed. The result is not augmentation but thorough refraction.

Where the debut album explored the recursive labyrinth of Schneider's live sampling of his own piano, Dispersion introduces an external grain into the feedback system. Breath and metal. Reed turbulence and struck resonance. The trio sampled extended improvisations by saxophone and vibes players: Victor Fox, Asger Nissen, Volker Heuken, and L&T's own Daniel Klein; dissected their attacks, overtones and decay curves, and integrated these fragments into the trio's internal circuitry. What emerges is a play of presences without bodies - instrumental ghosts circulating through the dense weave of rhythm and keys.

At first, one might hear the familiar relational tension: Klein's polyrhythmic elasticity interlocking with Fröhlich's tensile double bass figurations, Schneider poised at the hinge between tonal field and percussive impulse. But soon, the surface splinters - again. A vibraphone shimmer appears, yet no mallets are visible. A reed multiphonic surges through the texture, bending space between bass and drums. These events are neither quotations nor overlays; they are redistributed energies, dispersed across the trio's grammar. A digital multidimensional interplay ensues.

If the first album unfolded as a two-tiered game - live phrase and sampled reflection - Dispersion adds a further axis. The sampled materials from other improvisers are stripped of their erstwhile two-way interaction and reconstituted as malleable particles. Signifier detached from origin, resonance detached from gesture. The trio navigates a constantly shifting topology in which acoustic memory and electronic manipulation are indistinguishable.

Crucially, the album never abandons the physical urgency of three musicians reacting in real time. The additional timbral layers do not thicken the texture into opacity; rather, they introduce stark points and arrows of diffraction. Density opens into prismatic clarity. Lines splinter and regroup. What seems like a quartet or quintet collapses back into three bodies negotiating an expanded field.

Dispersion is not about addition but about distribution - of agency, of timbre, of temporal perspective. It is an album in which the trio setting becomes a site of multiplicity without surrendering its immediacy. A dissolution not only of the divide between present experience and memory, but between inside and outside, self and other.

Three musicians. Countless vectors. A music that fractures in order to cohere.

CREDITS:
Tom Schneider: piano & sampler
Tobi Fröhlich: double bass
Daniel Klein: drums & percussion

sample sources:
Victor Fox: tenor saxophone
Asger Nissen: alto saxophone
Volker Heuken: vibes
Daniel Klein: vibes

Recorded by Martin Dressler at Bauer Studios, Ludwigsburg.
Mixed & mastered by Martin Ruch.
Artwork by Viet Hoa Le.

New album from Pictish Trail, AKA Johnny Lynch, known for his wildly inventive electro-acoustic psych-pop. Life Slime is the sixth full-length album by Pictish Trail (AKA Johnny Lynch) - a strange, tender, psychedelic electro-pop record shaped by transformation, exhaustion, hope, guilt, and renewal. Written at home on the Isle of Eigg and recorded at Mike Lindsay's studio down in Margate (Tunng / LUMP), the album follows 2022's critically acclaimed Island Family, further refining Lynch's world of lo-fi electronics, warped pop melodies, baggy psych rhythms and emotionally direct songwriting. It's a record that balances woozy synth-pop, motorik propulsion and intimate acoustic songwriting, all infused with the emotional messiness that gives the album its title. Across the album's singles - the guilt-stained psych-pop ballad 'Hold It', the life-affirming shimmer of 'Infinity Ooze', the late-night confession of 'Torch Song', the expansive eight-minute centrepiece 'Another Way', and the cinematic closer 'Werewolf Ending' - Life Slime charts a journey from emotional fracture to uneasy release. 'Sorry Eyes' brings a punchy electro-pop strut with a sharp emotional edge, 'Crystal Cave' drifts through crystalline guitars and shoegaze haze into transformation, and the title track 'Life Slime' moves with a slow, weary swagger toward bittersweet acceptance. Together, these tracks form a cohesive album statement about surrender, resistance, change and renewal. "Wonderfully weird pop"- Brooklyn Vegan For fans of Hot Chip, The Flaming Lips, Liars, Mercury Rev, Beck, John Grant, Empire of the Sun, Grandaddy. Colour vinyl and digisleeve CD

Geoglyph is the new duo project by Alohn and Khey Mysterio, a convergence of two deeply singular practices into a single subterranean signal. Their debut album arrives as the eighth reference on Organic Signs, not as a collection of tracks but as a carved artifact: six inscriptions pressed into vinyl, mapping a sonic territory where time, rhythm and texture are no longer linear, but layered like geological memory.

Through Geoglyph, Alohn and Khey Mysterio convey a message from below, or beyond. A pulse engraved from forgotten times in the basement of reality, reactivated by abyssal basses, vibrating layers and fractured textures. Exhumed from the subterranean strata where psychedelic dub, mineral techno and fractal dubstep fuse into raw energy, their music becomes a point of contact: every beat, every silence, every oscillation acting as a coordinate toward another perception. What unfolds is not simply sound design, but an invocation, rhythms as sigils, timbre as gnosis, signals that seem to arrive already charged with intention.

Across the album, Alohn’s guitar notes fall like cascades through the mix, dissolving at times into controlled feedback and crystallizing into melodic fragments that hover between tension and release. These organic gestures are interwoven with Khey Mysterio’s dense low-end architectures and rhythmic frameworks, creating a constantly shifting terrain: from weightless transmissions and ritualistic voices to moments of overwhelming propulsion where the music suddenly breaks open with tectonic force. The record moves fluidly between meditative suspension and explosive motion, never settling into a single state for long.

A strong undercurrent of what has come to be known as “druidstep” runs through the album, a term coined within the 95 Open Tabs universe to describe a form of dubstep untethered from genre convention, rooted instead in bass as ritual, in groove as invocation. Here it meets dub-techno pulse, psychedelic echoes and high-velocity 4×4 pressure, drawing subtle influence from underground bass cultures without ever becoming referential. The result is a body of work that feels both ancient and forward-leaning, cyclical rather than linear: a living geoglyph that reveals different meanings depending on how (and where) it is read.

As the final movement accelerates into its closing phase, the album releases its energy outward, with frequencies stretched toward their limits, leaving behind the trace of a completed ceremony. In this sense, Geoglyph’s debut stands as a defining moment within the Organic Signs continuum: a record that unfolds rather than explains, offering an experience to be entered, absorbed, and carried. With this release, the label continues to explore new sonic spaces, evolving and expanding while giving deeper meaning to its own essence. A message from beneath the surface, waiting for those willing to tune in.

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minimalist Reggae rhythm made of syncopated drums and a gentle horn section in background, hence serving the
strong vocal delivery even further. Without forgetting the equally beautiful lyrics delivering a powerful message of
resilience, optimism and faith. Beautiful harmonies, minimalist rhythm and uplifting lyrics all together make
“Better Days” one of the Shoes most enduring performances and a Reggae masterpiece that invites to both reflection and musical delight...
 

“Station Underground News” was in fact the A track on the original 1973 single with Lee Perry credited as “King Koba”.
It is a subterranean journey through Perry’s imagination. Built from a skeletal rhythm track, the piece unfolds as a series of
musical interventions: echoing vocals, fractured percussion, Funky manipulations and more.
This little know tracks capture perfectly Perry’s trademark blend of Jamaican musical textures, off kilter rhythms,
experimentations and unbridled whimsy and creativity…

Enjoy!

Macclesfield 3-piece Cassia make their extremely welcome return with the announcement of their most ambitious release yet in new studio album everyone, outside - out April 11th.

The album marks a bold new chapter, and recently served up a tropical-tinged first offering in ‘heat’ - with today serving a superb Round Two with the stomping, insatiable, hook-laden new single ‘friends’.

everyone, outside takes Cassia’s sound to new heights. Written fresh off the back of two years of relentless touring, the band channelled every ounce of their renowned live energy into the album, returning to a studio they built themselves in Macclesfield, after creating their previous album in Berlin. The journey provided an added twist, recording the majority of tracks live on TikTok, giving fans a unique, inclusive experience to be part of the process.

The album’s title is a metaphor for embracing your truest self and reflection of a band who are at their happiest outside. It’s a message that speaks to the idea of reconnecting with nature and Britain’s finest summers. As frontman Rob explains, “That title, ‘everyone, outside’ started as a song about how weird it is that we stay inside all the time when being out in nature always makes us feel better. Over time, it came to mean more than that - like a metaphor for being your truest, most natural self, unburdened, like when no one’s watching.”

Drawing influences from a host of genres and cultures, everyone, outside reveals Cassia’s venn diagram of global sounds and intimate storytelling. A trip to Mexico during the writing process injected the record with a new energy, while their time spent in their new space back home gave the band a freedom to try new instruments, new sounds, acquire new tools to hone their production skills - and to simply have fun and explore. “The time we spent in Berlin taught us so much, but coming back home to Macclesfield allowed us to really focus on making something that felt like it came from us. No distractions, just pure creativity,” says drummer Jacob Leff.

Cassia’s rise has been impressive. From their early days busking the streets of Cornwall to playing major festivals, touring the world and receiving critical acclaim from BBC Radio 1, Radio X, The Independent, Rolling Stone UK, Clash & many more, the band has carved out a unique niche. Their sound, influenced by the African music Rob’s father introduced him to, combined with the indie heritage of nearby Manchester, combines the positivity of bands like Foals and Vampire Weekend, with the jazz-tinged afrobeats of Fela Kuti and Ebo Taylor.

After signing to Distiller Records in 2018, the band gave up their full-time jobs and ventured to Bath to record their debut album, Replica. Tracks such as ‘Right There’, ‘Drifting’ & ‘100 Times Over’ have amassed millions of streams, seeing the band sell out multiple headline Tours both in the UK and Europe. Playing to a homecoming capacity crowd at Manchester’s O2 Ritz, as well as sold out headline shows at London’s KOKO & The Garage, the band have accrued a huge, loyal following and their live shows earned them a nomination for Best Live Act at the AIM Awards alongside Idles and DMA’s, as well as making them the winners of Reeperbahn’s Anchor Award in 2022.

Cassia will tour the UK in May 2025, playing songs from the new album and some of their biggest tracks - headlining Leeds, Bristol, a newly added night in Southampton, a special Manchester homecoming, Glasgow, Birmingham, & a huge show at London’s HERE @ Outernet - dates below & Tickets Here. The band will also take things Stateside this year for their first ever run of headline shows in the US & Mexico.

For our first EP and 12", we're joined by Italian sound artist and long-time Goodness friend Yraki for 5 tracks of sonic hypnosis on a bass-heavy theme: ‘Tendril’ is meditative future-techno meticulously constructed through an experimental, high-poly lens.

Detailed, tactile sound design with deep, hypnotic momentum, it shapeshifts between stripped-back bass pressure and elastic, experimental flow in one costant, evolving, unravelling thread.

--

The shadowed interstice between root and circuit, Tendrils creep through soil and signal alike, tracing patterns unseen, carrying memory and mutation. Time folds in layers of sediment and data; decay becomes growth, fracture becomes connection.

Tendrils are the pulse of the unseen, a meditation on growth, entropy, and the uncanny geometry of becoming.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Will Wood's very first LP displays a variety of genres, with a chaotic homemade anti-folk feel and an experimental edge. "Everything is a Lot" began its long production in 2014, when the singer-songwriter was still 20 years old and performing drunken alt-comedy at open mics. With no funding, Wood led a slapdash band into the studio to bring songs mainly from his teenage years to life, and the unstructured production process and youthful experimentation gave it a uniquely loose and chaotic feel. The debut LP's sound is defined by Wood's Jay Hawkins-esque vocal delivery, an out-of-tune old upright piano, wailing wind instruments, jangly guitar, high-powered yet loose drums, and sardonic overdriven kazoo solos. Delivering everything from swing jazz and twee indie pop to pseudo-mariachi and waltz, these sounds and their accompanying bizarre lyrics come together to match the existential title, "Everything is a Lot." Will Wood's early career can be primarily defined by his experimental vocal delivery, honky-tonk piano smashing, and darkly edgy songwriting. While his stylings have matured and taken on a more precise approach, his refusal to conform to expectations and constant shifts in the genre have continued to be hallmarks of his songwriting and production. In his "Will Wood and the Tapeworms" releases (Everything Is A Lot in 2015, SELF-iSH in 2016), audiences can see the first glimpses into what would eventually become his signature style, presented in a uniquely raw and chaotic state of potential.

Mixed by Simon Lam (Kllo, Armlock) and mastered by Grammy-nominated engineer Andrei Eremin, the album features collaborations with British talent including rising spoken-word artist Emmeline, Mancunian ambient producer Frameworks, and Nattica from Fickle Friends on the single 'Oh My'. Speaking on the album, Fractures says: "There's no overarching theme to this album, not lyrically anyway. It's cobbled together like short diary entries of someone journeying through a sort of middling stasis in their life, a time of nothing particularly noteworthy, and that in itself provokes deeper and maybe darker introspection.

I didn't feel like needlessly plugging holes with lyrics, just light dabs here and there, light and shade to complete the visual I pictured in my head. The through line of the album is more within the sonic palette. There's a murkiness, a sort of dust in the audio that is cast over every song. Noth

Double LP pressed on transparent red vinyl with black marbles. In Dying Light: The Beast, you step back into Kyle Crane's skin, but he's no longer the man he once was. Years of experiments have left him torn between fragile humanity and a monstrous power that he can barely control. Every light, every shadow, every choice feels dangerous. The forests and ruins of Castor Woods don't just set the stage, they breathe, they watch, and they punish the reckless. This is survival stripped to the bone, where horror is not just outside, but inside you. Olivier Deriviere's powerful and capturing score for Dying Light: The Beast doesn't just accompany Crane's journey, it is his voice. Sometimes it whispers in empty rooms, fragile and broken, sometimes it roars with distorted rhythms and pounding drums when the Beast takes over. Between silence and sound, the music pulls you deeper into Kyle's fractured soul, making every step and every heartbeat part of the story. It's not just a soundtrack, it's the echo of a man losing, and maybe finding, himself.

With two deeply cherished compilations already in the bag, Luke Una steps up for the third volume in his É Soul Cultura series on Mr Bongo. A love letter to the dancefloor and its power to unite people from all corners of society amid growing division and extremist politics. Genre-spanning in nature, the 15 tracks travel between cosmic soul, boogie, proto-house, slo-mo technoid grooves, drum machine afro, astral bass-bugging futurism, jazz funk, dance, and disco. Each having the ability to move the body as much as the heart.
 
From his formative years in Sheffield to co-founding Manchester’s much-fabled Electric Chair with Justin Crawford, through to helming the iconic LGBTQ institutions of Homoelectric / Homobloc, Luke has spent 40 years immersed in dance music. His latest outlet, É Soul Cultura, has grown from a label to a globe-spanning events series with Luke holding residencies and embarking on tours across the world from Japan and Australia to America and Europe. 
 
“For me, the dancefloor was never about a one-dimensional, thudding, 130 BPM beat only. It's a much more dynamic, broader vision than that. I cut my teeth in an era where a 100 BPM record had as much impact, excitement, and energy as a 134 BPM dancefloor jazz funk or techno record”, Luke mentions. É Soul Cultura Volume 3 is the perfect embodiment of that notion: “It’s about four decades in the trenches playing dance music, the late-night afters, the shebeens, the basements, warehouse parties, the eight-hour journeys in East London, through to festival sets at Houghton and We Out Here. It’s music unconstrained by genre or tempo and more about making your body move”. 

But this isn’t simply a collection of disparate dance tracks; they carry meaning and soul. “It’s less about escapism, more about reconnection. My experience of post-covid has been the coming together of all the clans in various clubs and gatherings. A reaction to a very toxic world out there, where the aggro rhythms of division have sought to divide us, and people don't meet as often. The coming back together face-to-face in clubs has encouraged a real love in the air, there's a real togetherness and collective spirit”.
 
Opening up the compilation is a track that channels that very message, the transcendental, soul-rousing Harris & Orr ‘Spread Love’. Joining the dots from there, to the low-slung deep house closer of Fatdog ‘Remember’, you’ll find electronic drum machine Nigerian funk, sitting side by side with dancefloor Cape Verdean brilliance, a post-punk cover of Fela Kuti, rubbing shoulders with cosmic electro, and an Una-championed, 8-minute, kickless DJ Harvey remix. There’s jazz funk in various guises moving from boogie synth to astral travelling, slo-mo acidic raw techno, and a ‘79 soul stepper, alongside swirling percussive Italo disco and tribal-charged house. All infused with an innate ability to bring people together.
 
As society becomes increasingly fractured, É Soul Cultura Volume 3’s message is more than movement. It’s about dance music’s power to unify people from all walks of life and break down the barriers that divide us.

Apollo Records proudly present the vinyl reissue of ‘Morning Light’, the acclaimed 1997 album from Mark Van Hoen’s Locust project; a work that blurred the boundaries between ambient electronics, trip-hop, and dream-pop with an emotional precision few have matched since.

Originally issued during the label’s pioneering late-’90s era, ‘Morning Light’ marked a bold evolution for Van Hoen, best known at the time for his dark, abstract ambient work under Locust and as a member of Seefeel. Seeking to create something more human and melodic, Van Hoen assembled a rotating cast of collaborators, including Zoe Niblett, Craig Bethell, Neil Halstead (Slowdive/Mojave 3), and Wendy Roberts, blending fractured dance rhythms, live instrumentation, and intimate vocal performances into something both deeply personal and effortlessly cinematic.

From the haunting reimagining of The Carpenters’ ‘No-One In The World’ to the slow blooming emotional arcs of ‘All Your Own Way,’ ‘Folie’, and ‘The Girl With The Fairytale Dream’, the album’s 13 tracks form a widescreen narrative of melancholy and beauty. Reviewers at the time hailed it as “a subtle delight” and “sheer God-given genius”, comparing its mood and texture to Massive Attack, This Mortal Coil, and Portishead, yet noting its entirely singular voice.

This reissue restores Morning Light to vinyl for the first time in over two decades. A crucial artefact from the fertile intersection of experimental electronica and ethereal pop, ‘Morning Light’ stands today as one of the label’s most quietly influential releases.