quête:fragment

Bruno Silva, operating here under his restless Serpente alias, returns with Visita do Fogo — a sharp, stripped-back and incendiary counterpoint to the drifting, dream-jazz abstractions of Dias da Aranha. If that record floated like smoke, this one crackles and snaps like dry wood.

Visita do Fogo finds Silva stepping back into the heat of his beat-driven origins, embracing a raw, forward-leaning approach that feels closer to his live detonation than a studio construction. The record is built on stark materials — drum fragments, percussive jolts, scorched-earth loops — all manipulated with his unmistakable “screw” instincts: micro-cuts, sudden pivots, rhythmic false floors and the sense that the track might turn itself inside-out at any moment.
Rather than smoothing edges or leaning into atmospherics, Serpente doubles down on urgency. Each piece moves through the record with a chop-and-go physicality, a kind of ritual propulsion that never settles into comfort. Silva’s rhythmic language remains entirely his own: crooked but precise, feral yet meticulous, rooted in dance structures but constantly mutating away from them.

Visita do Fogo is less a sequel to Dias da Aranha than a flare shot into the same night sky — brighter, hotter, and designed to leave afterimages. It captures an artist burning forward, shedding everything unnecessary, trusting the flame.

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

From dreamy indie pop to melancholic ambient fragments to crazy distortion pedals, The Me In You has never sounded more adventurous without losing sight of cohesion.

Press:
Humo: “The Me in You simply offers more colour and dimension than most other Belgian pop groups”
OOR: ‘A wonderfully addictive album for connoisseurs.’
Het Nieuwsblad: ‘Duyster music that gets under your skin.’
Le Soir: ‘Every song, every melody manages to surprise us.’
Stu Bru: Catch of The Day – De Afrekening list
Radio 1: Top 10 Vox list – A Rotation

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.

Daniel Steinberg debuts on Rekids the Berlin-based Arms & Legs boss drops the ‘Free Living’ EP

Berlin-based producer and DJ Daniel Steinberg lands on Rekids for the fi rst time with the ‘Free Living’ EP, 13th March 2026. Active for over two decades and emerging at the height of the stripped-back, funkier end of minimal house, Steinberg has built a reputation for pairing infectious hooks with tightly programmed grooves, and has ploughed his path via his label, Arms & Legs Records, as well as labels like NuGroove, Front Room, and Southern Fried.

The title track of Daniel Steinberg’s ‘Free Living’ EP sets the tone with slow-slung, dusty House pressure, where restraint and subtlety shape a deep, immersive groove. Blues-tinged vocal fragments sit low in the mix alongside understated trumpet motifs and tender chords, forming a warm-up cut that gradually raises the energy. ‘Concrete Master’ shifts gear entirely, delivering raw, in-your-face house driven by sleazy rap snippets and snarling hits, built for peak-time impact. ‘Seven Sense’ follows with turbo-charged momentum, pairing vamping piano lines with gospel-leaning vocal stabs for hands-in-the-air release, before ‘Perfect Catch’ closes the EP with loopy chords, chopped grooves, and a playful, party-starting sensibility, delivered with characteristic precision. Founded in 2006, Radio Slave’s Rekids expanded with the techno-focused Rekids Special Projects in 2017 and its latest sublabel, REK’D, in 2024. With Matt Edwards as sole A&R, Rekids continues to champion emerging and established artists alike, remaining a trusted home for house and related sounds, with recent releases from DJ Minx, Echonomist, Tal Fussman, and more.

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

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

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

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

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

For their fourth release, Australian label Lunatic Music welcomes Chris Stoker (UK) and Jamie Blanco (UK born, AUS based) to the fray for a dubbed out analogue synth workout that is indisputably Ess O Ess.
Fusion unfolds in Simply Nothing. Analogue synths intertwine with exquisitely programmed percussion and George Humes' chorus-drenched, draped in a veil of spectral vocals by Sarah-May Brown. The result is a retro-futuristic sonic whirlpool that is as memorable as it is delicate.
A waterfall forms in The Lotus & The Banksman. An otherworldly mutant breakbeat techno floor filler. Ethereal pads and dubby textures ripple across the surface whilst the resonant bassline churns below. Gentle currents give way to surging momentum as the percussion kicks in wth the repetitive chant of Time Travelling Man throughout, again by Sarah-May Brown.
On Remix duties, Hybrid Man applies their refined proto-trance formula to Simply Nothing, drawing out its hypnotic core.
Mayurashka fractures The Lotus & The Banksman, sifts through the pieces, and assembles a mind-melting, wonky techno drum work-out from the fragments.

Another Squid inks its way into existence. The new project from northern operator
Accented Measures, whose synth tower stacks taller than the horizon it’s aimed at. A self
made groove patroller, Aqua Surf releases four well swung jewels of power, an ode to
motion, pressure, and late night systems thinking.

Each track is cut from the same cloth but bent at a slightly different curve, offering a
focused glimpse into the Aqua Surf orbit. You’ll find heavy nods to the Quasimidi
classics, early Korg rompers, quirky Roland workstations and lost dub style vocal
fragments strung throughout the EPs play through. Ultimately, the record is a multi
planetary trip built on MPC sequences, where swing does the steering and texture does
the talking.

Functional but curious, these are tracks designed to travel through rooms, through
bodies, through time slots where the lights stay low and the floor stays sweaty.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


A mix of metallic doomgaze, epic gothic soundscapes and post punk attitude. Loud and crushing, yet sharp enough to stick in your head for days. There are two kinds of heavy bands: the ones that make a lot of noise and the ones that drag you somewhere you didn't know you needed to go. Cwfen (pronounced 'Coven') are the latter, and Sorrows is a record that doesn't just crush - it haunts long after the final note. The allure of Cwfen's sound lies in contrasts: the glacial ferocity of Amenra, with the velvet-and-razor vocals of King Woman, and the rotting grandeur of Type O Negative. It's as hypnotic as it is harrowing, but somehow even better than the sum of those parts. Since emerging from Glasgow's underground just 18 months ago, Cwfen's reputation is growing, selling out shows and pulling growing audiences into their doom-laden fever dream. Released in October, the band's debut single 'Reliks' was a hit with fans and critics, landing a spot on Kerrang!'s release of the week playlist. And rightly so. Their sound devours and delights in equal measure. "Cwfen have emerged from the darkest depths of the Caledonian underground with a beguiling blend of doom metal and gothic post-punk for those who like to live deliciously." Kerrang! Sorrows lives in the space around doom where the weight of the riffs is matched by the weight in your chest, where the lyrics and the songwriting are as important as the music itself. Loud and crushing, yet sharp enough to stick in your head for days. It builds, burns, collapses, resurrects. Big on riffs, bigger on feeling. The kind of songs you carry with you. Singer and rhythm guitarist Agnes Alder bears her claws one minute, then whispers the next, as the band follows like a storm front, rising, breaking, drowning you in the weight of it. From the guttural Penance to the lush Whispers, to the feral Wolfsbane and the insurrectionist Rite. It includes a long reworking of Embers and Bodies, the two self-recorded demos that launched them into the scene with a bang and their growing legion of fans already adore. Intricate vocal arrangements, heavy and harsh guitars, a mix of atmosphere and heft, it undoubtedly punches above its weight for a debut. As Agnes says: "When we stopped trying to fit into any one space, what came out was this beautiful mix of dark and light. Something visceral and cathartic." This is a band that sits right in the boundaries between the heavy genres, pulling in everyone from the young goths and to the die-hard metalheads alike and 'Sorrows' truly does deliver in spades. Make no mistake, Cwfen are set to be one of the names to watch in 2025. FFO: Chelsea Wolfe, Zetra, King Woman, Type O Negative, Alcest, Faetooth, Liturgy. Limited vinyl pressing, 500 copies in transparent red vinyl. Full colour Gatefold outer sleeve, with a full colour printed inner sleeve, Full download included as well.

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

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

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

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

HATIHATI - a new signing to DEEWEE, the record label founded by David & Stephen Dewaele of Soulwax/2manydjs.

Picture a burning car at the roadside in southern Crete, speakers held together with tape, playing records that survived sun, dust, and metallic sunrises, loud enough to make mountains sweat and clouds blush in hyper hue. HATIHATI lives somewhere between fragmented muscle memory and long walks through the Cretan mountains. The project formed on the move: buses, ferries, borrowed rooms, missed connections. Music made with travel still in the body. This is HATIHATI.

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

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

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

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

Der postklassische Komponist, Klangkünstler und Kurator Matthew Patton ist mit seinem zweiten Album als Those Who Walk Away zurück. "Afterlife Requiem" ist eine Elegie für seinen Freund und Kollegen Jóhann Jóhannsson. Drones, Elektroakustik und fast vollständige Stille, extrahiert aus unvollendeten Aufnahmen auf Jóhannssons Festplatten, bilden die Grundlage für zwei Streichquintette - Ghost Orchestra (Reykjavík) und Possible Orchestra (Winnipeg) -, die in einem traurigen, langatmigen Werk verarbeitet und ausgelöscht werden. Patton hat auch wieder mit Andy Rudolph (Guy Maddin) und Paul Corley (Sigur Rós, Ben Frost) an der Koproduktion und dem Sounddesign gearbeitet, um eine brodelnde Körperlichkeit zu schaffen, die brodelnde Tiefen mit eindringlichen Bewegungen gespenstischer Streicher kontrastiert. ,Alles, was ich je geschrieben habe, ist ein Requiem. Alles ist ein Ende. Der Tod ist überall in dieser Musik präsent. In meinen Werken geht es um das Verschwinden - der Gegenwart, der Vergangenheit, von allem. Afterlife Requiem wird im Laufe seiner Dauer immer langsamer, es ist ein einziges großes Ritardando, die Zeit verlangsamt sich nicht nur, sie verschwindet. Ohne dass ich darüber nachgedacht hätte, ereigneten sich zwei miteinander verbundene Tragödien, die während des Schreibens, Aufnehmens und Arbeitens organisch an die Oberfläche kamen: der Tod meiner Mutter und der Tod des Komponisten und Freundes Jóhann Jóhannsson. Wenn ich mit dem Schreiben anfange, denke ich an nichts Bestimmtes, ich schreibe einfach, komponiere, nehme auf und höre zu ... aber irgendwas macht sich immer auf unvorhergesehene Weise bemerkbar oder drängt sich in den Vordergrund. Nach dem medizinisch assistierten Tod meiner Mutter wurde mir beim Ausräumen ihrer Wohnung klar, dass ich auch die physische Manifestation ihrer Welt auslöschte - und dass ich genau dasselbe mit der Musik tat, die ich schrieb und aufnahm. Während dieser Zeit wurde mir auch Jóhanns Tod immer wieder bewusst. Für Afterlife Requiem habe ich kurze, verlassene Fragmente aus Jóhann Jóhannssons Festplatten genommen und diese körperlosen Audio-Geister abwechselnd in meine eigene Musik eingebaut, wobei ich sie unrein gelassen habe - und dabei die Grenze zwischen Schaffen und Zerstören verwischt habe. Nach seinem Tod hatte ich diese Festplatten aus Jóhannssons Berliner Studio zum Anhören bekommen. Diese Musik war aufgegeben worden, in verschiedenen Stadien der Entstehung und Auflösung: ein Verzeichnis zerfallener und toter Erinnerungen, vergessen und jetzt nur noch in einer Reihe ineinandergreifender mechanischer Teile vorhanden, die mit der Zeit selbst versagen und verschwinden werden, wie alles andere auch. Monatelang hörte ich mir diese Überreste von Jóhanns Musik obsessiv an und versuchte, Hinweise auf Jóhann vor seinem Tod zu finden. Oft stellte ich fest, dass er das Aufnahmegerät noch lange nach Ende der aufgenommenen Musik laufen gelassen hatte. Er schien nicht zu bemerken, dass die Musik aufgehört hatte, oder registrierte nicht, dass dies das Ende der Musik war, oder vielleicht war er durch etwas anderes abgelenkt. Aber ich fand diese langen Stillephasen zutiefst emotional und berührend. Die verschwindenden Elegien von Afterlife Requiem sind weniger Musik als vielmehr Überreste von Musik. Auf diese Weise arbeite ich immer auf die Subtraktion von Bedeutung hin. Die Musik ist fern und verschwommen, beschädigt, geisterhaft und gespenstisch und deutet nur wie eine halb vergessene Erinnerung an das, was einmal existierte, eine verdichtete Darstellung von Verfall und Auslöschung. Ich habe dieses neue Stück von Anfang bis Ende mit diesen körperlosen Stillephasen aus Jóhanns eigenem Werk, Raum und Zeit unterlegt. Jetzt für immer verschwunden, bleibt seine aufgezeichnete Stille zurück; eine monumentale Leere, die der Welt verloren gegangen ist. Im gesamten Stück, insbesondere in den Abschnitten ,Memorial Environment", habe ich auch unzählige Geräusche aus der Natur integriert, von vulkanischer Lava über Lastenaufzüge bis hin zum menschlichen Blutfluss, dem Zischen von Turbinen und Selbstmordinjektionen. Der Künstler Robert Smithson sagte vor Jahrzehnten: ,Es ist die Dimension der Abwesenheit, die es noch zu finden gilt." Für mich misst diese Musik auch, wie die Zeit abläuft. Tatsächlich ist die Zeit bereits abgelaufen. Die Ewigkeit hat bereits begonnen." - Matthew Patton (Those Who Walk Away)

Sonic Groove Experiments returns with the debut album from Mendikant DX. A Pack of Ghosts draws the listener into a deep ambient-industrial swirl of decay; a haunting soundtrack to the grim, back-lit, post-reality world we find ourselves in. Written and produced by techno veteran Bryan Zentz.

Aaron Warren und Bjorn Copeland machen seit 1999 zusammen Musik: neun Jahre als Flaccid Mojo und 26 Jahre als Black Dice. Diese Zusammenarbeit ist wie eine Wanderung durch die verwüstete Landschaft der zeitgenössischen Musik. Indem sie Dummes, Gedämpftes und Verbrauchtem stapeln, schaffen die beiden immer wieder unausgewogene, atemberaubende Mutantenkonstruktionen. Das neueste Beispiel dafür ist ,Loose Jacks", das zweite Album von Flaccid Mojo. Es besteht aus kostenlosen Handy-Apps, fragmentierten YouTube-Videos und Elektronik mit zerbrochenen Bildschirmen - den verbrannten und zerknitterten Überresten des Streaming-Industriekomplexes. ,Loose Jacks" ist das breite, hysterische Grinsen, wenn man in den letzten Tagen einen Schatz findet. Die Songs von Flaccid Mojo sind für Live-Auftritte gemacht, mit einem modularen Arsenal an Rhythmen, Stabs und Payoffs, die alle bereitstehen. Das ist ihre Art, das Physische in den Mittelpunkt zu stellen und sicherzustellen, dass die körperlichen Vorgaben der Komposition jedes Songs diese Befehle an alle im Publikum wiederholen. Die Befriedigung eines Loops, der so lange läuft, bis er dir im Blut liegt, die Bassline, die zu einem Stoß geformt ist, der Snare-Hit, der so scharf ist wie der Ellbogen eines Fremden. Man kann sich wie ein Geist fühlen, der durch die Platte einer anderen Band schwebt, aber Loose Jacks ist wie eine Mauer, eine schwere Decke, starke Hände, die dich auf einen Haufen von Körpern heben. Es ist eine befreiende, unspirituelle Erfahrung. Eine fleischliche. Wie schon ihr Debütalbum ,Flaccid Mojo" (veröffentlicht 2022 bei Castle Face) wurde auch ,Loose Jacks" von Chris Coady aufgenommen, der seit den Neunzigern bei Black Dice-Konzerten dabei ist. Es ist toll, mit Leuten zu arbeiten, die es kapieren und nicht über Tonarten oder ,das Raster" diskutieren. Ähnlich wurde ,Loose Jacks" von Sarah Register gemastert, deren Band Talk Normal sich eine Wand mit dem Proberaum von Black Dice teilte. Für Fans von Chrome, Men's Recovery Project und den Chemical Brothers.

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

Written during a period of geographic and artistic transition, Country Music traces Severin Black’s movement from London to Berlin, unfolding through cycles of isolation and adaptation. Composed on the city’s periphery, the album’s material was continually dismantled and reassembled, reflecting a process of both artistic and personal reconstruction. The album marks a shift in production methodology, moving away from the immediacy of summed live takes toward a more deliberate, stratified multitrack approach. Sparse yet hypnotic, the record distills layers of sound formed by constant relocation, recurrent solitude, and a recalibration of instinct. In many ways, it echoes the experience of exile, not in a political sense but in the quieter, more insidious form of displacement that alters one’s perception of time and self. The music drifts between structure and dissolution, a reflection of existing at the threshold of different spaces—both physically and sonically.

The shedding of the previously used Nape moniker signaled a decisive sonic transformation, informed by extended time spent in the Pyrenees and a renewed engagement with folkloric material. Severin began playing the clarinet while making this record, and though its presence is minimal, it reveals itself as an interest in acoustic simulation, particularly the digital approximations of classical instruments that emerged within 1990s synthesizer technology. This interrogation of authenticity and mediation parallels the album’s thematic engagement with memory, where recollection functions not as a retrieval of fixed experience but as an iterative process of distortion and reconstruction. The relocation to Berlin reignited an affinity for grime music, evident in the syncopated brass of Pilgrim Wine and the fractured vocal layers of March, while memories of childhood in rural Wales permeate the record’s atmospheric spaces. The album includes contributions from longtime collaborator Vanessa Bedoret and Berlin-based artist Pavel Milyakov (Buttechno).

Country Music situates itself within an unresolved dialogue—between past and speculative futures, between folk lineage and digital fragmentation, between place and its embodied and sonic traces. What emerges is not a fixed statement but a process, an ongoing negotiation between what is left behind and what is brought forward. Words by Chantal Michelle

Mastered by Owen Pratt / Design by Severin Black / Center label image by Nicky Kidd / Back cover text by Alya Kanıbelli