Cerca:ghosts in the machine

Much time has passed since the Queer Australian/Italian-Armenian, multifaceted artist, Kristian Bahoudian aka Kris Baha, swapped the parched red earth and searing midday sun of the Australian landscape for the brutalist communist-era apartment blocks and slate-grey skies of former East Berlin. Kris is now a fixture in Berlin’s club scene and has toured most of the world as a DJ & live artist with his own unique production style of cyber industrial, EBM, wave, post punk, and early ‘90s IDM mutations. Remixing some of the scene’s most notable artists such as Boy Harsher and techno pop lord Boys Noize, Kris has garnered respect and trust in the electronic music scene for the last 13 years. To respond to the current AI revolution, Kris uploads himself to the cyber ether through his latest project: GHOSTS IN THE MACHIИE.

Across Dual Timelines —
” GHOSTS IN THE MACHIИE ” unfolds as a sci-fi cyberpunk concept project inhabiting dual timelines. In one, we glimpse a trans-humanist future where human consciousness exists as intricate sequences of binary code, entwined and controlled by omnipresent AI systems. In this coded future, a profound awakening stirs among a select few who manage to mutate the code they were governed by, unlocking memories of their history that was erased by the AI. Through this discovery they realize they can traverse temporal boundaries and utilize this power to send warning messages back in time to their former fully human selves. These eerie missives carry a dire warning for humanity, urging them to rectify the course of society before the relentless march of artificial intelligence deprives humanity of its essence. In this terrifying future, humans are rendered mere specters within the digital expanse, stripped of their souls, to become Ghosts In The Machine.
Collaboration with the future self —
The cyber odyssey unfolds from a unique perspective— Kris’s very own future self (his future ghost): a spectral entity endeavoring to caution its present incarnation against the ominous path it treads, attempting to avert a dystopian future.Sonic Alchemy —
A fuse of cybernetic synth waves, hyper-punk, and pulsating drum and bass laid out against the dystopian, industrial sonic landscape of this grim future “civilization”. Each track recounts a new chapter in the gripping narrative, drawing listeners deeper into their own story and the role we all play as a collective society with the future possibilities of unregulated AI.Recorded in Berlin with software and hardware synthesisers. AI was used to assist me with lyric themes, concepts and ideas. I also used a trained AI model of my own voice as backing vocals in ‘Haunting Me’.ll music, words & concepts by Kristian Bahoudian aka Kris Baha and his future ghost,
GHOSTS IN THE MACHIИE

Much time has passed since the Queer Australian/Italian-Armenian, multifaceted artist, Kristian Bahoudian aka Kris Baha, swapped the parched red earth and searing midday sun of the Australian landscape for the brutalist communist-era apartment blocks and slate-grey skies of former East Berlin. Kris is now a fixture in Berlin’s club scene and has toured most of the world as a DJ & live artist with his own unique production style of cyber industrial, EBM, wave, post punk, and early ‘90s IDM mutations. Remixing some of the scene’s most notable artists such as Boy Harsher and techno pop lord Boys Noize, Kris has garnered respect and trust in the electronic music scene for the last 13 years. To respond to the current AI revolution, Kris uploads himself to the cyber ether through his latest project: GHOSTS IN THE MACHIИE.

Across Dual Timelines —
” GHOSTS IN THE MACHIИE ” unfolds as a sci-fi cyberpunk concept project inhabiting dual timelines. In one, we glimpse a trans-humanist future where human consciousness exists as intricate sequences of binary code, entwined and controlled by omnipresent AI systems. In this coded future, a profound awakening stirs among a select few who manage to mutate the code they were governed by, unlocking memories of their history that was erased by the AI. Through this discovery they realize they can traverse temporal boundaries and utilize this power to send warning messages back in time to their former fully human selves. These eerie missives carry a dire warning for humanity, urging them to rectify the course of society before the relentless march of artificial intelligence deprives humanity of its essence. In this terrifying future, humans are rendered mere specters within the digital expanse, stripped of their souls, to become Ghosts In The Machine.
Collaboration with the future self —
The cyber odyssey unfolds from a unique perspective— Kris’s very own future self (his future ghost): a spectral entity endeavoring to caution its present incarnation against the ominous path it treads, attempting to avert a dystopian future.Sonic Alchemy —
A fuse of cybernetic synth waves, hyper-punk, and pulsating drum and bass laid out against the dystopian, industrial sonic landscape of this grim future “civilization”. Each track recounts a new chapter in the gripping narrative, drawing listeners deeper into their own story and the role we all play as a collective society with the future possibilities of unregulated AI.Recorded in Berlin with software and hardware synthesisers. AI was used to assist me with lyric themes, concepts and ideas. I also used a trained AI model of my own voice as backing vocals in ‘Haunting Me’.ll music, words & concepts by Kristian Bahoudian aka Kris Baha and his future ghost,
GHOSTS IN THE MACHIИE

Some grooves don’t rush to the dancefloor — they crawl there, slow and heavy, like smoke wrapping around a bassline. With Fragments of Reality, The Balek Band sculpt an electronic funk that lives between shadow and light — an end-of-the-world fever dream, a Barjavel-style Ravage where chaos turns nihilistic.

No sequencer grid here — just four musicians sharing the same room, shaping air and tension together: drums locked tight with a slap bass, a guitar dripping with echo and heat, and a one-man orchestra behind his machines, weaving acid lines and synth arpeggios while mixing the band live — drenching it in delay, reverb, and saturation, like a dub producer in a Kingston studio, Lee Scratch Perry or King Tubby conjuring ghosts through smoke.

This isn’t fusion — it’s friction. A living ritual where the TB-303 hums, and machines don’t dominate but converse with the human pulse. Each track feels like a night that refuses to end — that humid in-between where trance slips into languor, and the body starts to think for itself.

The record recalls the cosmic jazz of Alain Mion or Eddy Louiss meeting the fiery energy of West African afrobeat musicians freshly arrived in a smoky Belleville basement in the mid-’80s. When The Balek Band summon ghosts, it’s only to reshape them — bending the past into something futuristic, alive, and strangely refreshing. Both disciplined and delirious, Fragments of Reality feels like a promise at dawn: dark funk for the late hours, slow acid for warm blood.

This EP isn’t nostalgic, though it remembers. It’s a transmission from a parallel past — a moment when jazz players met drum machines and decided never to stop playing. Each note sweats, each rhythm breathes. You can almost see the light cutting through the haze, faces half-awake, half-possessed.

The Balek Band aren’t recreating a moment — they’re keeping it alive.
Flesh and cables. Impulse and patience.
A band, not a loop.
A trip, not a format.

UK electro wizard Plant43 marks his 20th year in the game in the only way he knows how: with another wonderful album, his 10th overall. It comes on his own now five year strong Plant43 Recordings and as he continues to lay it down with his regular performances at Tresor. Feeding The Machines is full of signature excellence, from the lithe rhythms of 'Information Decay' to the jittery drums and introspective chords of 'Anthropomorphic Algorithms' via the dark, hurried urgency of the paranoid 'Absolute Inertia'. This is another long player that is as adventurous as it is emotive and cinematic.

On June 6th, Death In Vegas return with new album ‘Death Mask’, where disintegration, overload and total sonic immersion tell a personal tale. With dirty circuitry and rough-hewn textures at the fore, this is gritty, unpolished techno; an audio outlier that’s full of personality, and a bold artistic statement. It’s closer in DNA to the grainy growl of sunn O))), or the searing intensity of Underground Resistance at their fiercest, and as far from generic influencer business as you could possibly get.

“I’ve been soaking in Ramleh’s ‘Hole In the Heart’, the machine funk of Terrence Dixon’s Population One, Jamal Moss’ psychedelic techno jams, the stunning minimalism of Mika Vanio’s Ø and Panasonic, the layered drones of LOOP, and drowning in the acid of TM 404”

Broader inspirations are weaved into the album’s fabric too; from his Thameside Metal Box studio and evocations of nautical ghosts, to lamentations for a broken world, to memories of a youthful Detroit pilgrimage, and the innocent fraternity of rave euphoria, there’s a lot going on, acting as a chronicle of moments, and locations.

Distant Worlds welcomes Gilbert to the roster with an EP possessed by the ghosts of UK techno past. A broad offering of sonic delights echoing the days when the likes of A13, Pure Plastic and GPR were sharing shelf space.

‘Lost Frequency’ kicks off with eager intent aimed directly at the dancefloor, drum machine funk collides with punchy bass and soaring synths. ‘Quantum Echoes’ offers a meditative take on bass weight accompanied by heart-breaking melodies and enriched by a true master’s attention to detail.

Flip over to ‘Earthscapes’ for a breakbeat infused workout resplendent with percussive flair and melodic deep bass. ‘Particle Drift’ takes us home in style with beautiful acidic flourishes atop emotive harmonies that could easily be an undiscovered gem of 90s techno. Timeless music sure to endure.

Recorded almost entirely in a single day at the legendary Total Refreshment Centre in London, JOY MACHINE brings together some of the most exciting musicians in London’s new jazz explosion. With features from Alabaster DePlume and trumpeter Jonathon Enser (Nubiyan Twist), vocals from Dizraeli (Worldwide Music Awards Best Album nominee), drums from Ben Brown (Alfa Mist, Mulatu Astatke), bass from uk jazz scene favourite Daisy George, synths from Joseph Costi (Yusef Cat Stevens, Bahla) and saxophone from free jazzer Ronan Perrett.



In the tradition of Miles Davis’s Bitches Brew, the band came to the studio in October 23 with only one pre-written track (the uplifting summer anthem Greek Summer) and once that was recorded, spent the rest of the day improvising wild, explosive music laced with Dizraeli’s rap and spoken word lyricism. The result is JOY MACHINE, a record bursting with urgency, intensity and life, and one that cements Dizraeli’s position as an innovative wordsmith, bringing both personal depth (as in Abigail, a homage to the sister who died before he was born) and fierce political commentary (as in Dear Cousin, a goosebumps-inducing narrative that transports the listener aboard the boat Adriana carrying refugees across the Mediterranean, which sank in June 2023 drowning 500 people, and then confronts a very English bigot in the second verse).

Water Machine is an office romance between Hando Morice (they/them), Flore de Hoog (she/her), Jimmy Gage (he/him) and Goda Ilgauskaitė (she/her). An unassuming supergroup formed out of Glasgow institutions including Goth GF, Passion Pusher, Brenda and Soursob, their sound careens between punk, country and alt-rock underpinned by the unique quality they call “Raw Liquid Power”.
Following last year’s self-titled demo tape on Gold Mold Records, and fresh off of shows with the likes of Holiday Ghosts, The Cool Greenhouse and The Orielles, as well as a rollicking Viagra Boys afterparty, the four-piece will release their highly-anticipated first studio effort ‘Raw Liquid Power’ on Upset The Rhythm on August 4th.
The EP opens with a menacing, modulating synth melody. Gage’s guitar enters with a mighty bend before breaking into the chugging rhythm of ‘Water Machine Pt. 2’. This timely reminder to refill your water bottle - “don’t be late, hydrate!” less a wellness mantra than a threat - builds to a spacey outro with flashes of the art-punk weirdness of Suburban Lawns. ‘Stilettos’ marches on indignantly with a spiky riff punctuated by Ilgauskaitė’s cowbells. Staccato talk-singing tells a playful tale of stray cats following you home, but belies a darker subtext as the breakdown gives way to paranoid duelling guitars evoking The Fire Engines.


The anti-anthem ‘At the Drive In’ skewers joyless DIY crowds, reminiscent of much-missed Glasgow punks Breakfast Muff. Water Machine’s irrepressible sincerity can’t help but shine through in the final moments though, as jibes about “late night trade potential” give way to plaintive vocal harmonies. Morice tears public transport a new one on closer ‘Bussy’, a First Bus diss track bemoaning precarious employment amidst crumbling infrastructure. “That’s why I’m not on time!” they roar over de Hoog’s frantic, pounding bass, bringing the record to a skidding, screeching halt.

Limited Green LP is for Indies only. all LPs include a DL card. Island Family is the fifth album from Isle-of-Eigg dwelling electro-acoustic psych-pop wonder Pictish Trail, AKA Johnny Lynch. A strange, unpredictable, sardonic and yet deeply personal record inspired by all from Fever Ray to The Flaming Lips, Liars, Mercury Rev and Beck, Island Family is Pictish Trail's contrarian view of arcadia; a search for the euphoric in the bucolic, bound up in sometimes conflicting ideas and feelings around nature and environment, sincerity and artifice, escapism and belonging. It's an album about how no man can remain an island, however hard he might try. Released by Fire Records, with support from Johnny's own label Lost Map, and produced by long-term collaborator Rob Jones (The Voluntary Butler Scheme, The Gene Dudley Group), 'Island Family' opens with its title track, a song of death, ghosts and the ties that bind, fusing abrasive electronic beats with a tongue-in-cheek fireside folk refrain and the haunted ice cream van melody of a digitally reincarnated traditional Scottish jig. A purgative surrender to nature's whim driven by a clattering machine drumbeat rolled in a puddle of filthy dirty fuzz, 'Natural Successor' is five-and-a-half-minutes of cathartic churning bass. 'In The Land of The Dead' is an eight-bit glitch-core reflection on island party excesses spasming into existential dread and regret, suitably accompanied by a funereal mariachi band. It's followed by the epic 'It Came Back', the understated verses and arms-aloft falsetto chorus of which are accompanied by a tense, foreboding bass-driven electro hip hop instrumental with (spoiler) a brain-shattering industrial-metal meltdown. 'Melody Something' is the album's purest moment, a cautiously uplifting solar-powered-ballad about losing track of time in the cycle of the seasons, and the gap between memory and reality. Shapeshifting closer 'Remote Control' is a channel hopping cabin-fever-dream flipping from warped boyband ballad to deep-fried fuzz pop. "One of my favourite artists" Lauren Laverne, BBC 6 Music

French artist based in Brussels, Che Vuoi presents her first album Cinecittàx, a nod to the great Italian studio, and a tribute to false dreams.

A theatre at the back of a run-down piano bar, where surreal and intimate scenes unfold; words and stories drawn from disparate sources: Fellini, G. Réal, Diderot... or written by herself, spoken, shouted or barely whispered by an altered voice.


Noises, samples, a drum machine, a brush on a snare drum, a piano spinning round and round until it reaches delirium and its own abolition, leaving us suspended in a constant in-between or a time that never truly existed.



« This voice, gentle, mad, with lightning verve, tells between the lines and the echoes the presence of threatening shadows and ghosts. And it is Che Vuoi, her character, her world of images, that haunts us. It is a strange bewitchment that carries us beyond the words she has freed from "the stationery I stole from Bellavista the other night" ("le papier à lettre que j’ai chipé au Bellavista l’autre soir") into the lair of her universe, as whimsical as it is silky in which we let ourselves slip, as one would slip over the rock of an esoteric river, in the heart of a forest that makes music and has delirious things to tell us. »

The Sorcerers' latest long player lands in perfect time for the summer, offering a further progression into their unique take on Ethio-inspired jazz. Other Worlds and Habitats is, of course, released on ATA Records and is blessed with the analogue recording and painstakingly loving production we have come to expect from this boutique studio. This, The Sorcerers eagerly anticipated fourth LP, follows on from the success of I Too Am A Stranger, a record which garnered praise from BBC Radio 2’s Jamie Cullum, “I love this, this is so good!”, Ethio-jazz legend Mulatu Astatke, “I like the grooves, and it is good to see The Sorcerers interpret Ethio jazz in their own unique way”, and Nightmares on Wax, “This sounds great! Love the way it's recorded”.

Never ones to stop moving forward, and ever vigilant to avoid the realm of pastiche, The Sorcerers see the Ethiopique sound as a building block for their natural progression as a group, but a block that sits at the base of a much larger, ever expanding, structure, The addition of keyboardist Johnny Richards, whose use of the Jen 73 piano, Mellotron and Farfisa Compact Duo, alongside the core members of the group, has opened some exciting doors for The Sorcerers, fusing the future looking optimism of the late 60s and 70s (when artists began to experiment with the new electronic technology and synthesisers becoming more readily available) and more traditional sounds. Taking inspiration from Ethiopian keyboardist Hailu Mergia and Nigerian musician William Onyeabor, Other Worlds and Habitats, as the name suggests, showcases The Sorcerers' shift to a new, and deeply exciting, musical landscape.

The Sorcerers’ Other Worlds and Habitats is a natural progression in the world they have created for themselves. Richer for shared experiences, and accepting the rise of the machines, they prove that while their journey is always going forward, there are many different paths to take.

Smut is the project of lyricist Tay Roebuck, guitarists Andie Min and Sam Ruschman, drummer Aidan O’Connor, and bassist John Steiner. Roebuck, Ruschman and Min started the band a decade ago in Cincinnati, Ohio. Since then, they’ve played alongside Bully, Wavves, and Nothing. After years in the Cincinnati DIY scene, they made their Bayonet Records full-length debut, How the Light Felt. The record was a revelation. Pitchfork called it “a rigorous, decade-spanning study,” and a “well-oiled spin on late-’80s guitar pop.” Under the Radar called it “pop perfection,” that “blends subtle hooks with wistful lyrics.” It was a record that explored grief through the lens of melancholic dreampop, using drum machines and layered, intricate melodies.
Tomorrow Comes Crashing, Smut's first record with O'Connor and Steiner, sees the band re-energized and trained on the limitless potential that comes with making music with people you love. Galvanized with a new lineup, Smut focused on creating a record that possessed the same towering intensity as the records that first got them into music: Three Cheers for Sweet Revenge, Relationship of Command. The outcome is ten of their most intense, bombastic, and focused songs to date.
Catharsis bursts through the seams throughout Tomorrow Comes Crashing. “Syd Sweeney, ”inspired by the actress, is the record's centerpiece. It's about how profoundly strange it can be to be a woman, to be misunderstood by people who don’t even know you. The song is driven by chugging guitars and big, rolling drums. In other words: stadium rock about perception. Paramore meets Dookie. “She connects to the youth and the girls in the water/All she amounts to is someone’s daughter,” sings Roebuck in one particularly poetic moment. The song comes to a thrashing metal-inspired breakdown. It’s ecstatic.
To make the record, Smut recorded “as live as they could,” alongside Aron Kobayashi-Ritch(Momma) in a studio in Red Hook, Brooklyn, over the course of ten days. “We have so much energy right now,” says Roebuck. Right before they went off to New York, Roebuck and Min got married, with the rest of the band by their side. The recording was a true labor of love — driving from Chicago with all their equipment, returning from 12 hour studio days to sleep on friends' couches and floors, Roebuck completely blowing her voice by the end. Smut has always been DIY. Because they love it. Because they have to do it–there’s no other option. Tomorrow Comes Crashing is the culmination of that DIY spirit: making a record that completely encompasses the intensity, moodiness, and emotion of their journey so far.

After a collage tape collab with Bardo Todol back in 2022 (SUC52, Magnetic Road to Hell) Robert Millis finally gets his Discrepant debut proper, a much overdue entryin our random catalogue of lost musical oddities.

The not so self explanatory title Interior Music explores Millis obsession with hidden sounds and its anomalies. An hermetic rearrangement of emptiness could be another more big headed title. But I leave the man to talk about his thing:

‘’The phrase interior music occurred to me a few years ago as a way to describe some recent work. It’s about the resonances inside of hollow wooden chambers (and hollow heads) like gramophones and talking machines, music boxes, instruments, metal containers, and resonant rooms. It’s about exploring tiny audio fragments—single notes, vinyl and shellac surface noise, recording mishaps and anomalies—and arranging them into something meaningful. It is about my own interior mishaps and anomalies and attempts to arrange THEM into something meaningful. It also references “interior design” with the placement of sounds in specific locations, layers or in juxtapositions.

Inspirations include Steve Roden’s lowercase work, Toshiya Tsunoda’s field recordings, Eliane Radique’s slowly shifting ambiances, and the musique concrete of Pierre Schaeffer, as well as the dhrupad and kayal traditions of Indian classical music—especially Kesarbai Kerkar and the Dagar family who have a sublime way of stretching out individual notes and exploring their endless permutations, combinations and connotations.’’

Robert Millis is a sound artist known for his work with Climax Golden Twins, the Helen Scarsdale Agency, the soundtrack to cult horror film Session 9, the Victrola Favorites book and cassette series, and many releases on Sublime Frequencies including Indian Talking Machine, Paris to Calcutta: Men and Music on the Desert Road, compilations of the earliest music recorded in Korea, Japan and Myanmar, and the documentaries This World is Unreal Like a Snake in a Rope and Phi Ta Khon: Ghosts of Isan. Somehow he is a Fulbright scholar (to India 2012-13) and the recipient of a Guggenheim Fellowship (2020). He has or currently does play with AFCGT, Idol Ko Si, and/or Telescoping.

Halo Studios und Laced Records haben sich zusammengetan, um die ikonische Musik der ursprünglichen Halo-Trilogie zum ersten Mal auf Vinyl zu veröffentlichen.

Dieses 3-teilige LP-Set enthält die Musik des monumentalen Sequel, die speziell für Vinyl neu gemastert und auf Heavyweight-LPs gepresst wurde. Die Platten befinden sich in einer breitrandigen Außenhülle und drei bedruckten Innenhüllen.

Das Original-Cover-Artwork stammt von Art Director und Concept Artist Isaac Hannaford (alias Rhizus / Space Ship Guru), dem ehemaligen Lead Concept Artist und Mitwirkenden an Halo 3, Halo 3: ODST und Halo Reach. Das zusätzliche Artwork des Sets wurde von der Grafikdesignerin Maren Landsnes erstellt.

Für Halo 2 haben sich die Komponisten mit hochkarätigen Musikern zusammengetan und dem Halo-Thema mit dem neuen „Mjolnir Mix“ ein Heavy-Metal-Makeover verpasst. Es war auch der erste Soundtrack zu einem Videospiel, der es in die Billboard 200 schaffte.

- 26 speziell remasterte Titel aus dem Spiel von 2004
- Cover-Artwork von Isaac Hannaford (ehemaliger Lead Concept Artist bei Bungie)

Halo Studios und Laced Records haben sich zusammengetan, um die ikonische Musik der ursprünglichen Halo-Trilogie zum ersten Mal auf Vinyl zu veröffentlichen.

Diese Box enthält 83 Titel aus den ersten drei Halo-Alben, die speziell für Vinyl neu gemastert und auf acht heavyweight LPs gepresst wurden. Jeder Soundtrack befindet sich in einer breitrandige Außenhülle und einer bedruckten Innenhülle. Diese wiederum befinden sich in einer stabilen Sammlerbox aus Karton mit silbernem Laminatüberzug und geprägtem Halo-Logo.

Das Original-Cover-Artwork stammt von Art Director und Concept Artist Isaac Hannaford (alias Rhizus / Space Ship Guru), dem ehemaligen Lead Concept Artist und Mitwirkenden an Halo 3, Halo 3: ODST und Halo Reach. Das zusätzliche Artwork der Box wurde von der Grafikdesignerin Maren Landsnes erstellt.

Halo: Combat Evolved war der Inbegriff des Konsolen-Ego-Shooters und sein Soundtrack legte den Grundstein für den legendären Sound der Serie. Der Soundtrack ist von verschiedenen Genres inspiriert und kombiniert schwungvolle Orchesterklänge mit marschierenden Militär-Snares, Prog-Rock-Percussion und - wer könnte den gregorianischen Mönchsgesang vergessen?

Für Halo 2 taten sich die Komponisten mit hochkarätigen Musikern zusammen und verpassten dem Halo-Thema mit dem neuen „Mjolnir Mix“ ein Heavy-Metal-Makeover. Es war der erste Videospiel-Soundtrack, der es in die Billboard 200 schaffte.

Halo 3 zeichnete sich durch Tribal-Drums und Prog-Rock-Refrains aus, während Klaviermelodien, begleitet von einem 60-köpfigen Orchester und einem 24-stimmigen Chor, dem Soundtrack emotionale Tiefe verliehen.

- 83 Tracks aus Halo: Combat Evolved, Halo 2 und Halo 3
- Speziell für Vinyl neu gemastert
- Cover-Artwork von Isaac Hannaford (ehemaliger Lead Concept Artist, Bungie)

Limited Edition 12"

Left Ear are delivering two previous unreleased Australian ‘experimental’ electronic tracks from the 80’s and honoring them with a split 12” release.

Side A: Features an unreleased full-length version of Tim Gruchy’s Jungles, a solo electro-percussive piece recorded in Tim’s Lab D’Avoid studio in Brisbane. The track is emblematic of his style during an era when he worked extensively in music, both as a percussionist and primarily with electronics, including early analog synths.

A shorter version was originally released on the Meanjin (Brisbane) art collective ZIP’s Eye Ear EP book package in 1986 and, more recently, on Left Ear’s Antipodean Anomalies 2 compilation.

This original version of Jungles was initially part of the soundtrack for the ZIP Performing Group’s infamous Ironing Board Dances. Footage of the performance was treated through a Fairlight synthesizer, mixed with hand-painted slides, and transferred to VHS for various film festivals.

Side B: Michael Krillich’s Arnhem Land began its journey in 1982 in a shared house in North Bondi. Inspired by Brian Eno and David Byrne’s My Life in the Bush of Ghosts, he experimented with tape loops, cut-ups, and samples, incorporating synthesizers, effects pedals, a drum machine, and an unknown sample from an Australian Aboriginal record. This creation became part of his cassette release, Thematic Variations.

In 2010, Krillich uploaded an unreleased extended version of Arnhem Land from Thematic Variations to YouTube, which was shared by record dealer Matt Bowden with Left Ear Records, who pursued to release it on vinyl. Their search to uncover the sample’s origins led them to Arnhem Land Vol. 1 (1957), recorded by Peter Elkin in the Daly River region.

After years of research and through the guidance of Professor Allan Marrett and local custodians, the sample was verified as a “Wangga” ceremonial song sung by George Morkai, an Emmiyangarl man. Rights to the song had passed through generations to Tobias Worumbu, who granted us permission for its use, bringing Arnhem Land full circle.

AIR 's Jean-Benoît Dunckel & Jonathan Fitoussi have joined forces to release Mirages II, a sonic exploration of analogue synthesis, moving from the minimal to the cinematic.

"After their first album as a duo, released in 2019, JB & Jonathan have gone back together to build another work, in which their two personalities unfold even more surreptitiously, always very attentive to each other.

At their heart, an electronic spirit, anchored to a very mineral rhythm.

There are glimpses and echoes of the great German musicians of the 70s, with their infallible metronome.
There are also ghosts of Detroit's hypnotic machines.

Above all, this album moves forward as if it were running slowly, its rhythms giving a cadence that calms and radiates, in sparkling harmony...

These mirages, second chapter of that name, are at their zenith."

J. Ghosn

Die zweite LP des Duos aus Megan Louise und Johnny Jewel (Chromatics) wurde in LA und Palm Springs, Kalifornien, geschrieben und aufgenommen. Inspiriert von der ultralebendigen Welt der 1970er Giallo-Filme schrieben Desire den Soundtrack ihrer Träume mit ihren Lieblingsinstrumenten: Minikorg, Jupiter 8, 909, Mellotron, Simmons Rhythm Modules, String Machine, D-50, Fender Rhodes. Während House-Rhythmen die Grundlage ihrer Erzählungen bilden, ergänzen pulsierende Synthwave- und Daytime-Drama-Seifenopern die Farbpalette des Albums. Gesungen wird auf Englisch, Französisch und Koreanisch, was der Mischung noch mehr Dramatik verleiht. Durch all das hindurch gibt es den Optimismus des Kompasses der wahren Liebe, der uns durch all das Chaos navigiert, das das Leben zu bieten hat.

Though 潘PAN is an entirely new artist - new outlook, new message, new material and name - you may have met the woman herself before. Back in the mid-‘10s, the Taipei-born rapper went by the moniker Aristophanes. After performing a career-changing feature on ‘SCREAM’, taken from Grimes’ celebrated NME Album of 2015 ‘Art Angels’, Aristophanes went on to build a cult fanbase, releasing her debut mixtape ‘Humans Become Machines’ two years later and then her distributor went bust during covid. Signed to Transgressive she re-released her mixtape followed by Reborn and Ghosts EPs earlier this year.

Across a constantly morphing sound palette that moves from metallic, apocalyptic beats to delicate nods to the traditional music of her Asian heritage, via heavy, industrial moments, spacious soundscapes and much more, the thread is Pan’s utterly mesmeric vocal. Performing in a mix of Mandarin and English, she explains that having the two languages to play with is “like featuring another artist who has a different way of describing things”.

Across the releases, confident sexual expression mixes with tenderness, empathy and a particularly feminine sort of strength to create a world that Pan hopes will transcend language and connect her audience via something more innate. “The music is a place to feel safe,” she says. “The message that I want to carry through these two EPs and the album is to demonstrate the strength of accepting your own situations. When you can’t make things right but you’ve done your best, sometimes it’s really hard to admit that to yourself. It takes strength to do that. I use lots of sexual metaphors, but I feel like it’s more about the female need to be seen and heard. I want to build something more delicate and layered and connected to our life experience - to the trauma and the pleasure and the growth.”

In the time since she last stepped into the spotlight, the musician has experienced her fair share of all these things. Now, it’s as an entirely evolved artist that she returns with a new collection of music that revels in it all: the trauma, the pleasure, the growth and the long-awaited rebirth of 潘PAN

Who is Isabelle Lewis, anyway?

What kind of music does she make? Is she an opera singer? Does she write pop songs? Does she compose ethereal ambient soundscapes? Does she play chamber music on the violin? Is she producing dark, electronic beats?

Well… yes. But Isabelle Lewis is not so much a person as a project. Isabelle’s debut album, Greetings, credits a trio of composer–performers at its heart: producer Valgeir Sigurðsson, vocalist Benjamin Abel Meirhaeghe, and violinist Elisabeth Klinck. The sound of the elusive Isabelle Lewis is heard most clearly in the push and pull between them, the three-way tension that gives the album its musical and emotional drive.

Each of the three brings more to the collaboration than those epithets might imply. Elisabeth’s solo performance practice incorporates composition, improvisation, live electronics, and a close command of bowing and fingering techniques that make her fiddle sing, whisper or whistle as required. Benjamin is a self-taught countertenor - keening, crooning, and swelling to a voluptuous sensuality—but also an interdisciplinary stage director and performer. Well known for his work as a producer and studio collaborator, and as a composer of scores for film and stage, Valgeir’s solo discography interweaves meticulously crafted electronics, drones, noise, and other digital elements with acoustic instruments and vocals recorded with naked, unflinching clarity.

But the extravagant theatricality Benjamin brings to the aptly titled “Drama”—also featuring a heroic violin solo from Elisabeth—grapples against the thudding bass of the implacable digital backdrop. On “Mother, Shelter Me” Valgeir’s austere and detailed production throws the hushed violin and vocals into stark relief. The result is an exquisitely uncanny juxtaposition of past and present, human and mechanical, like a Rococo treasure viewed under cold fluorescent lights, or an 18th-century automaton slowly opening its clockwork eyes.

Even the lyrics seem somehow out of time. On “O Solitude,” Benjamin goes so far as to quote an entire song by the first great English opera composer, Henry Purcell, verbatim. No stranger to Purcell’s music, which has made its way into Benjamin’s theatrical productions as well, here Isabelle Lewis removes Purcell’s melodies and harmonies and sets the text, Katherine Phillips’s 17th century translation of a poem by Antoine Girard de Saint-Amant, to new music whose heightened, archaic character nevertheless seems haunted by Baroque ghosts.

Throughout the album, the outsized emotions and timeless archetypes of Benjamin’s lyrics feel like relics from some half-forgotten past—from the neatly rhymed couplets of “Fisherman,” a seemingly straightforward (but still somewhat askew) character study, to the abstraction of “Moonshell,” whose words seem like the fragments of some ancient, lost lament. It is just another of many ways in which Isabelle Lewis carefully distorts the listener’s notions of time. On a more micro level, time can stop for a moment of weightless, drifting ambience, and then plunge forward as the cloud of harmonies suddenly lock into tempo with the drop of the bass or the change of a chord. Or else that weightless moment is allowed to be, as in the aptly named prologue and epilogue to these Greetings (“Voicemail”/“…and farewell”), or in the interstitial tracks that bind the album together, connecting its dramatic peaks with expanses of meditative stasis.

The album as a whole is elegantly shaped, swelling from an intimate, interpersonal statement into something deeper and more spacious. The first half of the album leans slightly towards self-contained pop songcraft and ticking beats, while side B jumps off from “O Solitude” into the almost symphonic grandeur of songs like “Moonshell” or the instrumental “Not the water, air, or the dirt.”

But as it progresses, the contrasts only grow more sublime: antique and postmodern, human and machinelike. The ominous weight of the droning sub-bass and trombone (guest player Helgi Hrafn Jónsson) only makes the interplay between vocals and violins (guest player Daniel Pioro joining Elisabeth) seem more delicate and vulnerable. The ethereal string tremolos of “Moonshell” seem to pull against the heavy, shuddering electronics and layers of crooning vocals.

And that, in short, is where you will find Isabelle Lewis. Like an ancient stone archway, or a delicate house of cards, the architecture of Greetings is held together by the tension between opposing forces. Not just in Elisabeth’s playing, Benjamin’s singing, or Valgeir’s arrangements and production but in the conflict and contrast that generates the synergy between them.

Oh—Isabelle says hi, by the way. She’s looking forward to meeting you.