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Huge and uncompromising experimental techno jams from Finland. Prominent percussion elements combine with otherworldly synth jams to create epic, hypnotic vibes from the land of endless forests and deep lakes. Half A Map makes, performs and releases experimental music. They're especially fascinated by rhythms outside 4/4. They attempt to combine catchiness with surprise, and roughness with gentleness. They relish sampling various objects and weaving them into their sound.

A Profound Non-Event, the debut album by Sydney-based three piece Daily Toll, comprises 11 songs traversing three years of forged friendships, collaborative experimentation and a shared love of growing through words and song.

Those attuned to the ever-vibrant Australian underground may already be well familiar with Daily Toll, their consistent live presence since their inception in 2021 embroidered by a handful of (mostly) home-recorded, (mostly) digital self-releases that have steadily accumulated an appreciative following. Initially the project of self taught musician, poet & artist Kata Szász-Komlós(they/them) and Jasper Craig-Adams(he/him), and expended to a three piece with the more recent addition of friend Tom Stephens(he/him), Daily Toll represents the union of three unique creative dispositions, of relationships blooming through the push and pull of creative practice. Mapping the band’s existence through their recorded output is to bear witness to the flux of three people learning to respond to one another and gently ossify into a collective vision that at once calls to mind folk song intimacy, post-punk dynamics and the artful poeticism of an adjacent Flying Nun legacy.

If those earlier recordings reflect a band imagining themselves into being in real time, A Profound Non-Event observes a clear shift in both conviction and approach. Recorded in just three days with Alex Bennett at the purely analogue Sound Recordings studio in Castlemaine and holing up at night in the century old cottage situated beside the studio, sheltering from the late-June wind and rain within walls littered with instruments and microphones, lighting fires to stay warm. Kata describes the experience as defined by “candle light and creative camaraderie”, an idyllic account of a collection of songs that glide with an undeniably warm, easy charm, evidenced in particular in the record’s second half as the tone turns increasingly introspective, the very sound of a cold evening’s drift into night. When contrasted with the moody swirl and sing-song bounce of the opening trio of tracks, there’s clear evidence of a band not simply in the process of becoming, but committed to finding their truth in that process.
Still, if Daily Toll display a reluctance to be wholly defined, then album centerpiece ‘Killincs‘ (positioned in the middle for a reason) might just be their Rosetta Stone. A verbose rumination on unsettled feelings of isolation and longing, exploring the challenges in making peace with one's decisions amidst the uncertainty of an often harsh world and the realisation that some things remain best unresolved - “I have the keys still, but I’ve buried the path”.

The latest in Field Records' run of essential vinyl pressings revisits Stephen Hitchell's 2009 masterpiece under his Variant alias, The Setting Sun. As part of Echospace and also celebrated for his productions as Intrusion and Soultek, Hitchell is considered a leading light in dub techno, with the versatility in his sound to range from rhythmic, physical pulses to purely tonal, abyssal drone. His work as Variant, which debuted with The Setting Sun, capitalises on this scope to deliver a compelling ambient-with-teeth set richly deserving of a proper vinyl pressing.

The Setting Sun first emerged on Echospace as a download-only release. Hitchell was at pains to map out the tools that went into the sound on the album — field recordings of storms in Berlin, Germany and train rides in Narita, Japan, outboard synths and samplers. Crucially, he declared no computers were used, and it shows. When The Setting Sun was recorded, in-the-box production was largely dominating electronic music and the technology had yet to replicate the warmth and character of analogue equipment. Hitchell's looming chords come baked with harmonic overtones, surface noise becomes another essential layer and fragments of distortion add to the narrative of these glacial, monumental pieces.

Hitchell threads his dub techno tendencies in subtle ways, from the kick pattering underneath 'As Time Stood Still' to the quintessential metallic delay ripples that define 'A Silent Storm'. 'Someplace Else' has a defined, albeit delicate, rhythm section guiding its lighter shades of pads and chords. However, drums are never a dominant aspect of the music, simply another layer in an intentionally coagulated whole. At times, flickering tones hint at space where percussion once stood, since muted to leave the wet signal setting a new course for the sound, somewhere far beyond drum duties. The hushed ceremony of tracks like 'Adrift' are the perfect scenario in which to absorb these microfibres of detail, where the genius of Hitchell can truly be savoured.

In line with the limitations of record pressing and Hitchell's proclivity for long-form tracks, 'The Setting Sun' is reserved for the digital edition of this reissue. It's a logical move, as the sound palette widens to encompass tangible, organic instrumentation evolving over the best part of half an hour. The presence of piano keys feels stark in the Variant sound world, but Hitchell ably folds these coded elements into his process bathed in the same curious luminosity that lingers around all his work. Evolving at a painstaking pace, the plaintive humanity in the cascading keys and plucked guitar strings renders one of the most personal expressions in Hitchell's considerable canon — a unique piece that holds its own space comfortably, while also adding to the overall weight of The Setting Sun as a profound benchmark in a stellar discography.

Saxophonist, producer and composer Brian Allen Simon explores darker hues, transposing waking and altered states under his studio veil Anenon. On the deeply evocative new album 'Dream Temperature', he shifts electronic processing to the foreground, introducing digitized wind instruments and unworldly atmospherics, not heard since his innovating mid-late 2010s output.

A longtime Los Angeles resident, born and raised, Brian Allen Simon has expressively operated under the moniker Anenon, releasing the highly revered 'Petrol' (2016), 'Tongue' (2018) and the viscerally beautiful 'Moons Melt Milk Light' (2023), in a line of unwavering musical dialogues. While the penultimate album was a deliberate, reductive, entirely acoustic detour that was born out of a want to unplug, 'Dream Temperature' sees Brian primed with a newly discovered wind synthesizer as his central compositional tool, alongside acoustic piano and tenor saxophone. The entirety of the album's electronics are triggered by Brian's lungs, generating otherworldly synths modulated by expressive breath control, channelled through the laptop as the core processing chamber for added textural components and field recordings.

A free floating and heavy emotional resonance marks 'Dream Temperature' from beginning to end, invoking the feeling of waking up, still heavy from a night of half-remembered dreams, and continuing one's day in this state. Simon maps out the album's spatial voice early on the statement title track, a deep, yet compact cut, generated from digital saxophone rasps that whistle by in close proximity, along with haze filled textures and sub bass. There is a sonic oscillation of urban grit and pastoral drift throughout as tracks pass by like introspective thoughts, fueling both a tense and ethereal quality that underpins the album. Interluding solo and part-solo piano improvisations 'Last Sun 1' and '2' are positioned adjacent to the buffering digital soundscapes. Their softer, still processed timbres pierce the melancholic exterior, offering a contrasting tenderness that could echo the grace of Ry?ichi Sakamoto, the spiritualist rigor of ECM's Keith Jarrett and a touch akin to Aphex Twin's piano miniatures. 'Nulle Part 1+2' signals the first appearance of an acoustic wind instrument, as tenor saxophone flourishes are juxtaposed against noisy drones, all shouting at the void, with notes resurfacing like lost digital data.

The album was recorded at home during either sunset or nocturnal hours between September of 2024 and October of 2025, a period in which Brian found himself craving more lengthy and intimate studio time as he searched for more pronounced textural qualities amidst his new sonic ambitions. 'When The Light Appears, Boy' shows further evidence of this deeper universe, revealing a grittier edge as the album's essential blueprint is sonically inked. A sprawling expanse of wind synths rhythmically encircle the listener before a dreamy, ghostly ambience blankets 'Toyama'. The sound is evocative of the productions of post dubstep era luminaries such as Burial or the productions of HTRK's Nigel Yang. More isolating and enveloping than the previous all acoustic record, this is music both disorienting and yet warmly inviting all at once. A sonic diarist at heart, personal field recordings were also taken from Sardinia, Japan, Big Sur and LA which intersect at unexpected moments throughout the album's 31-minute play time.

'Dream Temperature' is a vital coalescence of both Simon's electronic and acoustic practices with repositioned electronics akin to earlier works, both haunting and elegant, yet still profoundly personal. Simon continuously resonates as an experimental outlier treading an enthralling, non-linear musical path. This music resolutely glows with an unknowing aura, like an untapped energy source waiting to be discharged.

Already in its title, Plume Girl’s debut thoroughly lets things go and takes them in – all at once. “In the End We Begin” is the first solo full-length from Sowmya Somanath, a Hindustani classical singer/composer and half of alt-pop duo Felt Out. Plume Girl’s music takes inspiration from the semi-regular musical form of the rāga (translated as ‘tinting’), invoking mood and atmosphere, each rāga thought to have its own distinct nature and personality, brought to life through improvisation. String swells and Somanath’s searching vocalisations envelop every track’s own blissful chamber. Exploring imagined binaries along the way — eastern vs. western, traditional vs. experimental, acoustic vs. electronic, Sowmya sees music as a curious dialogue between divine Self and an invisible reality. Beneath the illusion of a chromatic world, there remains a blissful oneness.

Plume Girl’s songs sit between ambient Hindustani music and emotionally-encumbered pop. In front of backdrops comprising sundrenched drones or glitches, sketched out beats, and criss-crossing glissandi or flutes, Somanath both murmurs intimately and spirals upwards into soaring choruses. The lyrics ponder innermost thoughts, never more literally than on the blissful emo folk closing track: ‘In my heart I know / what’s in my heart / I know what’s in my…’

“When I began writing this music, I was fresh off of an experience that completely twisted my reality,” explains Somanath. It was the end of a years-long relationship, and the blossoming of a long-buried love hidden in plain sight: “a best friend of a decade, my musical partner, someone who had always seen me completely…At once, I felt grief and loss. At once, excitement and love.”

The union of Antwerp synthesist David Edren and Tokyo minimalist Hiroki Takahashi is a fit so natural as to feel preordained. Both traffic in subtle shades of contemplative electronics, marked by patience, space, and poetic restraint. And both have rich histories of curation and collaboration – Edren in the duo Spirit & Form alongside Bent Von Bent, and Takahashi as proprietor of the Kankyō record shop, as well as one fourth of cosmic ambient quartet UNKNOWN ME. Mutual fans of one another’s work, they began sharing stems in the latter half of 2020, which slowly blossomed into a collection of multi-hued compositions inspired by notions of connectivity and impermanence, translated for east and west: Flow | 流れ.

Opener “Dusk Decorum | 黄昏 礼節” maps the mood of what’s to come, elegantly pirouetting and percolating through an expanding vista of looming stars and half-light horizons. Takahashi describes Edren’s arrangements as evoking “a strange feel, something we haven't heard much of before.” The sensation is one of “in-betweenness,” a restless current whispering beneath the beauty, like seasons seen in time-lapse footage: flickering but infinite, transience turned permanent. Takahashi’s signature sculpture garden tones plot spiral patterns over which Edren cascades dazzling pointillist synthesizer coloration. The pieces veer between delicate and dilated, micro and macro, their aperture forever softly in flux.

From the oscillating orchestral lullaby of “Stalactime | 鍾乳石時計” to the sweeping, sparkling dream sequence closer, “Shift Register | シフトレジスタ,” the album achieves the elusive goal of being more than the sum of its parts. This is music of rare air, elevated and amorphous, shimmering just out of reach. Though Edren and Takahashi have yet to cohabitate the same room in person (a fact that should be rectified soon by an astute festival booker), their palettes and poise are perfectly paired, twin fragilities woven into seven radiant and regenerative vibrational states. The cover design of a beatific, beaded leaf rippling on the surface of a hidden pond aptly captures the record’s muted majesty. Takahashi’s quiet pride is justified: “We are very happy with this time-consuming and carefully crafted work.”

Transamericas reissues Atom™’s Kraftwerk-goes-chachachá classic

After 25 years out of print, El Baile Alemán — the cult album by Señor Coconut (one of Atom™’s many aliases) — returns on vinyl via Transamericas. What began as a half-joke (“The only way I’d cover Kraftwerk is as chachachá or death metal…”) became a fever-born epiphany: Kraftwerk’s electronic minimalism recast through a tropical imagination — where chachachá, mambo, and cumbia intertwine with glitch, breakbeats, and distressed samples.

Long before reggaeton and trap filled stadiums and playlists, Señor Coconut was already mapping the fault lines between Latin rhythm and electronic form.
Originally released in Japan in 2000, El Baile Alemán caught the ear of Kraftwerk’s Florian Schneider, who unexpectedly championed the project. This reissue has been cut from Atom™’s 2022 remasters, preserving the album’s detail for a new generation of listeners. In the second half of 2026,

Transamericas will also reissue El Gran Baile (1997), his first outing — a rawer but equally idiosyncratic fusion of what Atom™ was going to frame as electrolatino.

Crush of Souls is the musical endeavour of Charles Rowell (Crocodiles, Flowers of Evil, Issue). One foot in early Industrial and the other in 80’s Synth-Pop, Crush Of Souls hold the whip and demand that you submit your soul.

Returning once again to Catacomb Soul studios where he had recently finished recording “(A)Void Love”, Charles Rowell mapped out the next chapter for Crush of Souls, limitations were set in place while new faces appeared to lend a fresh coat of black magic to the album.

The album is a love letter to Paris; all of its beauty and decay. “Lézire” which is a slang mixture of the French words for Lizard and Desire provides a sinister title to an album full of hard hitting, romantic songs.

Harry Howard (These Immortal Souls) provides his signature snarl and profound lyrics to the haunting ballad “You Rose Up”. Long time sax player Stanislas de Miscault colors the dark corners of the record with his unhinged personality and one half of new look COS, Stevan Dinet bangs both the martial beats and the Fairlight sample pads.
An album cover full of chains and S&M can provide enough of an explanation as to the new direction of Crush of Souls. Cronenberg’s “Crash”, David Lynch’s “Lost Highway”, Psychic TV and Sisters Of Mercy are constantly mentioned.

Matthew Dear's Black City Can't Be Found On Any Map. It's A Composite, An Imaginary Metropolis Peopled By Desperate Cases, Lovelorn Souls, And Amoral Motives. Like Most Literary Gothams, Black City Is A Place To Love And Hate, As Seedy As A Nightclub's Back Room And As Seductive As The Promise Of Power. Matthew Dear, The Musician, May Live In New York City, But The Matthew Dear Of Black City Inhabits A Sound-world Unlike Any Other: A Monument To The Shadowy Side Of Urban Life That Bumps And Creaks, Shudders And Wakes Up Screaming In The Middle Of The Night. Black City Is Matthew Dear's Third Album On Ghostly International, And It's His Darkest And Most Engrossing Work To Date.

From The rst Notes Of Album Opener "honey", It's Clear That The Love-obsessed Matthew Dear Of 2007's Asa Breed Has Given Way To A More Existentially Paranoid Entity, As Creeping Tempos Dominate, Cavernous Atmospherics Envelop The Listener, And Strange Distortions Crackle On The Horizon. In Black City, Nothing Is At It Seems: Leadoff Single "little People (black City)" Is A Nine-and-a-half Minute Disco odyssey, subverting its gleaming electronic lead with eerily giddy backing vocals and cryptic, ominous lyrics ("a frozen wasted heart / has died", "love me like a clown"); "You Put a Smell on Me" is a sordid sex romp set to hysterically chattering percussion and a serrated synth line that will set your teeth on edge; "More Surgery" at rst recalls the barely-there Krautrock of Harmonia in its burbling minimalism, until Dear's chanted chorus of "Alter genetics / to make my body glow / I need more surgery / there's so much more to know" sends the track hurtling into a dystopian future.

And yet, for all the foreboding moods on Black City, it's the album's sweeter moments that illustrate Matthew Dear's growing maturity as a songwriter. "Slowdance" is a futuristic lullaby in which Dear articulates a lover's helplessness ("I can't be the one to tell you everything's wrong") over breathy, Arthur Russell-esque cello swishes; the album-closing "Gem" is an achingly simple, reverb-drenched piano ballad that ends with a long, slow fade. Even in Matthew Dear's Black City, there is hope.

Tibi Dabo returns with ‘Overture’, a from his forthcoming Crosstown Rebels album, with remixes from Map.ache and Aline Umber.

A label favourite having dropped his ‘Isla’ EP on Crosstown Rebels back in 2022, ahead of his much-anticipated debut LP comes this third superb taster from it. The superb ‘Overture’ is an eight-minute gem with super smooth percussion and elastic grooves, with wispy sci-fi chords and gentle synth modulations. It’s full of future feels and catchy drum funk that is sophisticated and smartly detailed with chopped-up vocal fragments.

First to remix is Liepzig’s Map.ache, co-founder of Kann Records and half of Manamana. His take builds with fatter drums that are just as infectious, while rippling synth loops weave in and out as flashy basslines cut loose, and balmy pads add extra cosmic absence to a hypnotic mix of the heady and the physical.

Aline Umber, a collaborative live project from French composers, producers and DJs Aline Brooklyn and Aman Umber, are second to remix. They run the Airfunk label and are no stranger to playing cult spots like Rex Club in Paris. Their ‘23% Eventide’ mix is a blissed-out and synth-laced trip with subtle, smeared chords and starry-eyed keys that have you gazing off into the distance as you get lost in the warm drums.

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

A year and a half has passed since Slovak-Hungarian artist Adela Mede self-released her debut album ‘Szabadság’. Its liner notes described it as “a navigation”, a search through “the personal, familial, cultural, folkloric and geographic of her past and present.” Her second album, ‘Ne Lépj a Virágra’ no longer searches; here, she puts down roots and delves deeper into the earthy reality of her home, Central Europe. Mede sings in three languages with newfound conviction and grace – this is an album of profound faith and confidence in the potential of this fertile soil.

Composed and recorded during the last 18 months in Bratislava, Slovakia – a city where three countries meet, where the East and the West collide – 'Ne Lépj a Virárga' translates to “don't step on the flower”. Its themes – budding potential, recognizing the beauty in the ordinary, solidarity, turning despair into hope – emerged through Mede's wholehearted involvement with her community, teaching singing to both children and adults, and various grassroots volunteering initiatives. It features collaborations with local artists, Mede's singing students, as well as fellow Eastern European contemporary artists Martyna Basta and Wojciech Rusin.

Adela Mede embellishes carefully crafted songs with minimalist and folklore influences, but also embraces more experimental approaches. The result is a collection of quite varied yet consistent pieces which highlight Mede's proficiency as a singer, arranger, producer and improviser. It is a grounded, confident next step for the Bratislava-based artist. Whether her vocals are naked, heavily processed, warped and reversed, or looped and layered; whether the production is sparse and minimalist or overwhelming and swampy; none of that changes the fact that the gentle tentativeness of her debut is gone. This is “Central European music”, at its most striking and meaningful: patient, determined, embracing both complexity and possibility.

The core duo of Max D and Matt Papich debut on Peak Oil following full-lengths for Future Times and PAN with a fresh suite of tactile, diffuse fusion. Half the collection emerged from a 2021 session at Tempo House rounded out by Dustin Wong, Mezey, and Jeremy Hyman, while the rest took shape in moments both collaborative and isolated, collaged together with CDJs into something more liquid and liminal than the sum of its parts.

Across fractured jazz, pitch-shifted downtempo, revelatory guitar, and interstitial interplay, Lifted’s sound is one of flux, fragments, and filigree. Oblique harmonic synergies dusted in chance encounters and rogue acoustics. Diverse moods mapped with split strings and the space between notes. Music untethered by form or expectation, snaking like an ungrounded cable through a geodesic dome of deep-listening.

When Straight Ahead hit the shelves in 1974, it marked another bold chapter for Brian Auger’s Oblivion Express. The band—Steve Ferrone on drums, Barry Dean on bass, Jack Mills on guitar, and Lennox Langton on congas— was firing on all cylinders, pushing jazz fusion into fresh, uncharted territory.

Critics took notice, with Billboard praising the album as “excellent in development and inventiveness, ” and it found its way onto multiple charts at once.

The journey begins with “Beginning Again, ” a lively opener built on Langton’s congas and Ferrone’s muscular groove. Auger’s electric piano sparkles here, immediately setting the album’s adventurous tone. Then comes their take on Wes Montgomery’s “Bumpin’ On Sunset. ” Darker in mood and drenched in atmosphere, Auger stretches out into improvisation while still honoring Montgomery’s spirit. The interpretation struck such a chord that, years later, Wes’s widow wrote to Auger to tell him it was her husband’s favorite version of his much-loved tune.

The title track, “Straight Ahead, ” shifts gears into funk, showcasing the group’s ability to slide effortlessly between genres. “Change” pushes further, blending rock’s raw energy with jazz’s improvisational freedom, driven by Auger’s command of the Hammond organ. To close, “You’ll Stay in My Heart” brings the tempo down with a tender, soulful ballad—an intimate ending to an album full of bold explorations.

At the time, reviewers hailed the record as a gem. One called it “a minor masterpiece of incredibly engaging and melodic keyboard-centric jazz-rock fusion. ” Another singled out “Bumpin’ On Sunset” as “the best reason to own this recording.”

Half a century later, Straight Ahead still resonates. It captures that fertile moment in the 1970s when jazz, rock, and funk were colliding, and artists like Auger were busy redrawing the map. To this day, it stands as proof of Auger’s fearless curiosity and his knack for breaking boundaries—music that looked forward then, and still feels ahead of its time now.

Mark Fell inaugurates his new label – The National Centre for Mark Fell Studies – with his first solo electronic material in years; a slinky, ravishing volley of unique dance drills that have been in the works for over a decade, feeling somehow like Derek Bailey dissecting Singeli, or Autechre and Hermeto Pascoal dancing in hyperspace. There’s nothing else quite like it.

Back on the floor for the first time since dealing a pair of deep house 12”s with DJ Sprinkles, sending a contemporary classic in »Protogravity« with Errorsmith, plus a lauded collab with Gábor Lázár – all in 2015 – Fell taps back into core club concerns last explored to this uncompromising extent on his string of »Sensate Focus« EPs released between 2012–2013. He’s hardly been slacking since then, with a slew of far-reaching avant collabs with everyone from Rian Treanor to Limpe Fuchs, Okkyung Lee to Pat Thomas, Explore Ensemble to Will Guthrie – each one blurring distinctions between producer, composer, and conductor.

The »Nite Closures« EP is worth the wait – and then some. As ever, Fell manages to retain a highly distinctive, instantly identifiable sound while also tracing and mapping new bends in the continuum. His exploration of contemporary styles and patterns is here distilled and articulated with a rare, daring playfulness and sinuous intricacy – for over half an hour he flows from frantic to almost emotional at the drop of a snare. Trust it’s not your everyday / everynight club music, with an asymmetric angularity bound to wrong-foot fresher feet, but also the type of absolutely future-facing, skewed machine funk that clubs are crying out for, even if they don’t quite realise it.

As someone who’s witnessed the dominance of colouring-book Jive Bunny DJs recycle tested ideas ad infinitum, the message is a firm do-one to myopic ravers in »Nite Closures«. From the displaced anticipations tested in its extended dub and ravishing, tweaked polymetrics on its version, through a »Large Modulos #3« teeming with organismic details, to the hair-kissing swang of »auchterhouse (inversion)« and its clipped, cascading 2.1-step reprise, Fell offers thrilling new options for the loosey-gooseyest dancers at each turn. For us, it’s perhaps his greatest record this century.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

'exclusive tour tapes' limited quantity available for distribution

Limited split tape collaboration between like-minded pranksters Lagoss & Babau. Co-released by Sucata tapes & Artetetra in July 2025.

‘’The chars were emerging as some chunk of makeshift swamp coolers blasted the soil surrounding our motorbikes. Sunburn vapours floating grey all around, licking our necks with heavy hazy tongues. Just oppressive and gross. Blah.

Someone says heat waves are among the most dangerous natural hazards. I guess that the magnetic tides did not help at all. For sure, recreational sleep deprivation aside, it was days of relentlessly documented tipsy headaches, thermometric cicada noises and weird-ass hallucinations. It is what it is. The age of earthquakes. We drink from our black plastic bags with a straw pushing a bit of oxygen thru our reptile brains. Just half a pack of synthetic tobacco for the ride. No internet. Whatever.

She looks at me behind the war metal glasses and the silicone frog mask high on desert dust. Sweaty pools on her shoulders. Eyes purple with adrenaline. Map on the scratched screen. “It says that at this point we should be hearing that fucking flute”. We stop amidst the geysers. We can see the monoliths and stone gods ready to eat up all the solar storms and the thunder. Towards the horizon, second moon is up. Damn. Water rises to our knees, green with bloating sounds. Just what we needed. We’re stuck. "Turn up the radio. Let’s hope it lasts five minutes." After trashing a bunch of fake subtropical signals, the radio plays a flute. She takes off the mask and explodes in a grin: “This is it man, we made it! No man’s land. The real fucking thing.” I light one up and let the sight get blurred: “You betcha.”’’

Award-winning producer and composer Giorgi Koberidze offers up a head-spinning debut of Georgian modern classical music shot through with 360° electroacoustic textures.

Giorgi Koberidze is an electronic and classical music composer from Georgia. He currently serves as a professor of music at Tbilisi State Conservatoire, as well as at Ilia State University, and the private music school "303 Herz". Giorgi's work is rooted in the Georgian musical tradition, cross-pollinating indigenous instrumentation with electronic and western classical timbres. He recently won first prize in the Tbilisi Conservatoire Composers Awards, and received Georgia's most prestigious cultural gong, the Tsinandali Award.
The Album was premiered in Georgia at the Kutaisi Film Festival, and later showcased at the Tbilisi Film Festival. Working from graphic scores, Giorgi's ensemble includes strings, woodwind and traditional instruments from the Caucasus (doli, chuniri). Fleeting voices, field recordings and skittering percussion converge to paint a storied map of Tbilisi, and its surrounding terrain of forested polyphony and microtonal peaks and crags.

Each listen of the album is projectively rich, like a dizzying series of sonic inkblot images. The piece is designed to be absorbed in the surround sound of darkened movie theatres, conjuring a multiverse of narratives in the half-light of sensory acuity. At home, Giorgi invites listeners to set aside time to experience the record in a dark, comfortable space absent of external stimuli.

This album was made with the support of the Tbilisi State Conservatoire. The recordings were funded by Nicolas Jaar. Thank you. We are beyond proud to present this incredible project.

Recommended for fans of Pierre Bastien, Roméo Poirier, Jan Jelinek.

"Chasing the funky symphonies that filled my head and my dreams..."

December 25th, 2023 - an Instagram post. Stimulator Jones shared half a dozen FIRE tracks from his beat tape archive. We were immediately drawn to the rough hewn boom bap.

"I'd release that", Rob commented.

Hours of material was shared and the result is this: Cool Green Trees (1999-2005). A collection of beats and loops Stimulator Jones created between the ages of 14-20 at home in his basement, bedroom and computer room in Roanoke, Virginia.

You will not believe the profound soulful genius contained within these naive schoolboy melodies.

December 25th, 1998 - 25 years ago to the day and his much-coveted Yamaha SU10 sampler was finally bestowed upon young Stimmy AKA Sam Lunsford: "I immediately hooked up a CD Walkman to the input jack and looped the beginning two bars of Grover Washington Jr.'s "Mercy Mercy Me". I don't know what exactly was so thrilling about hearing two measures of music repeating over and over but it was so infectious and hypnotizing and enthralling to me. I'll never forget that ecstatic rush of making my first loop - an uncontrollable, gleeful smile plastered all over my face." When you hear the pocket breakbeat symphonies featured here on Cool Green Trees, you'll feel the same sense of frisson.

In the wake of his Stones Throw breakthrough - Exotic Worlds & Master Treasures - Stimulator Jones was pegged by many as a 90s throwback artist. However, he literally IS a 90s artist. He's been recording music most of his life and he's now 40. He created the bulk of Cool Green Trees as a teenager. Everything before 2004 was recorded when Sam was still in school. He was in 8th grade when he made the 1999 tracks - he didn't even have his learner's permit. This album is a snapshot of a young man in a simpler time. Things were still mysterious back then and he was flying blind, relying on his ears and having to figure things out for himself: "I had no road map for becoming a beatmaker. I have been collecting music since I was a kid, I am a lifelong digger and seeker of cool and interesting sounds. I was there in the golden age of Hip Hop, and while I may have been a suburban white kid in Roanoke, Virginia, I was tuned in and I bought so many classic albums when they came out. I was attracted to Hip Hop because of the musical and poetic quality. I was hypnotized by the rhythms, partially because I was a drummer. I didn't brag about collecting my breakbeat records or making beats - it was something I did in isolation. It wasn't something I generally wanted to bring attention to and it didn't really score me any cool points. I certainly wasn't flexing on social media about it."

Hell, he can do that now!

Opener "Pharoah Jones" was inspired by Yesterday's New Quintet and Madlib's ability to capture that classic 70s sound whilst playing all the instruments. Sam created this one stoned afternoon by laying down a 2 bar loop and a shaker loop on his Yamaha SU700 sampler. He hung a microphone from the ceiling and played his Yamaha Stage Custom drum kit over the top before adding ender Rhodes and playing his dad's Selmer tenor sax through an Electro Harmonix Memory Man echo pedal. Yes! Up next, "Ghost Gospel" utilises a dope loop from a gospel record and adds some soul-funk drums overtop, whilst working that filter knob. Says Sam: "The loop reminded me of something Ghostface would rap over. The sample was in 3/4 waltz time but I flipped it for a 4/4 groove, a technique I picked up from RZA. "Ill Feeling" uses sped-up pieces from a dusty old funk record and putting them over a classic NOLA drum loop; gain chopping up a slow, bluesy 3/4 time signature and bending it to a 4/4 groove. Classy shit. "Capital Punishment" features drums tapped in live, inspired by MF Doom's Special Herbs series. "Do Not Adjust" consists loops found on a compilation of 70s French music at Happy's Flea Market, a classic Roanoke digging spot.

The sublime, evocative title track, "Cool Green Trees" was created when Sam was still living at home. He dumped samples off his SU10 into the family desktop and arranged them in a demo version of Pro Tools: "This track was sort of my ode to the DJ Shadow style of sample based production. Super spacey, slow, and moody. The heavily filtered drums were inspired by Alec Empire's 'Low on Ice' album. I later added some scratches and sounds from a Spider Man storybook record." "Chill Scratch" snags the final bit of a bossanova record and pairs it with a drum loop before adding experimental scratching run through an Electro Harmonix Memory Man echo pedal. "Poisonous Fumes" was made using a sampler, mixer and a turntable; a kind of mixtape beat collage with added scratches and sounds from various records. Using dialogue from superhero records was a nod to Madlib. "Welcome Aboard The Starship" is dark, downtempo trip-hop with a spooky bent. Sam paired a slow, hard drum loop with a guitar sample grabbed off a psychedelic rock record. To finish, he added various backwards sounds and weird atmospheric effects and a little scratching. Swoon.

Side B opens with "Keep On Runnin", made on a borrowed Roland SP202 sampler. Having always loved the sound of the Lo-Fi filter on those machines, reminiscent of the Emu SP1200, Sam always imagined Del or another of the Hieroglyphics crew rapping over this beat. You can certainly hear why. "Sounds Impossible" sees Sam experimenting with layering multiple kick samples at different volumes to create patterns similar to those heard by Showbiz and Lord Finesse during their God-level 1995 period. "Painted Faces" was made by chopping up a REDACTED record which he had gotten from Happy's Flea Market and paired it with a REDACTED drum loop. By the time Sam recorded "The Knew Style", he had acquired a shitty old 1960s portable turntable off eBay. It didn't function properly when he bought it but his brother opened it up, cleaned it out and got it working: "I remember he told me that there was a bunch of sand inside of it when he opened it up, as if its previous owner had taken it to the beach. I would take that turntable on my Happy's Flea Market digs so I could preview records...that's how I found this loop."

"Chicken Wing Blues Sauce" loops up a classic blues joint and pairs it with some REDACTED drums. A bit of filtering and arranging et voilà! "Kool Breeze", from 1999, is one of Sam's oldest surviving beats, as is "Sexx Bullets". The Roots sampled the same record, leaving Sam frustrated yet vindicated. "Soul Child" was an early SU10 creation, looping a dusty old Soul Children 45 and pairing it with 70s rock drum loops to great effect. "Take Off Runnin" was another loop found digging with a portable turntable. Paired with some boom bap drums it makes for a hypnotic head-nod groove. "Centurian" was intended to be a little beat interlude a la Pete Rock. The sample is from a sun-dappled soft-psych record and it's paired with a Robin Trower drum loop that just happens to fit perfectly. Sometimes you slap things together kind of haphazardly and magic happens. "Bozack" was the first beat Sam made using Pro Tools, his first foray into using chopped sounds instead of loops, an exciting new world. "Church" is beat interlude using a Phil Upchurch loop with the "Long Red" drums - a favourite break of Dilla et al. Sam was really on a tear in late 2004, probably because he was unemployed and phoneless and able to just make beats all day. He made "Splash One" on a borrowed Yamaha SU700 and again was experimenting with tapping the drums in live with his fingers, instead of using a loop or sequenced pattern. Channeling 9th Wonder, Sam used a water splash sound effect from a Batman record as a percussive element, hence the title (also a 13th Floor Elevators reference). The main loop is a backwards portion of one of his favourite Roy Ayers songs.

"Hank" is another fun little beat interlude thing, created on a borrowed Roland SP202 sampler with the fantastic Lo-Fi effect that resembled the Emu SP1200 at a fraction of the price. "73 goatee", from 99, is another of his oldest surviving beats, created in his bedroom with his Yamaha SU10 and his brother's Vestax MR-300 4-track recorder: "This one will always feel special. I can remember having a feeling all the way back then on the night that I created it that this was a solid beat with a catchy loop. There was something in the Fender Rhodes melody that resonated with me emotionally, and I had never heard a producer sample that portion before. I felt like I had found my own unique sound, my own unique loop. It came from an Ahmad Jamal '73. I actually even recorded myself rapping and scratching over this beat way back then, I still have that version in all its imperfect sloppy glory."

Sam explains just how much these tracks mean to him: "They all have immense historical and sentimental value and I'm proud of them. These beats come from an innocent, simple time when I was just figuring out how to craft these sounds. They're something very personal to me. They are the initial part of a journey that I really was taking *alone*. There was no YouTube. I couldn't Google shit. I didn't even know any other beatmakers, producers or DJs in my town that could teach me anything. It was always just me, alone, in a room with some equipment - chasing the funky symphonies that filled my head and my dreams. What I was doing wasn't cool. Most of my peers thought I was a weirdo and couldn't care less. Creating these sounds was an anti-social endeavour. In a sense, I felt like it was me against the world, and all I had to instruct and assist me were the recordings produced by my heroes - RZA, DJ Premier, Erick Sermon, Beatminerz, Showbiz, Diamond D, Beatnuts, Prince Paul, The Bomb Squad, Pete Rock, Q-Tip, E-Swift, Mista Lawnge, DJ Shadow, Cut Chemist, Peanut Butter Wolf, El-P and so many more...I dedicate this collection to them, and to my older brother Joe who has always been a musical and technical guiding light for me.

This was a time before every kid was a self-described producer and beatmaker, before everyone had a DAW, before Kanye and "chipmunk soul", before Red Bull beat battles, before there was any social media beyond chat rooms and AOL Instant Messenger, before Soundcloud, before SP-404 mania, before lo-fi beats to study to, before Splice, before targeted ads for MIDI chord packs, etc. In 99 when I told people that I had a sampler and made beats I was mostly met with bewildered confusion and indifference. Kids and adults alike would wonder why I got this weird machine for Christmas instead of something worthwhile like a Playstation or a mountain bike or even a guitar for that matter because at least that could be used to make "real music". Back then, sampling was still not widely respected as an art form - it was seen as lazy, talentless and unoriginal at best and outright criminal theft at worst. I had gotten respect for playing drums and guitar and things of that nature but this was a step in the wrong direction in the eyes of many."

The cover photo is a picture of Sam standing on his back porch in the latter part of 1998, just before he got his first sampler. He was 13 years old, in 8th grade. His dad took the picture with his 35mm film camera: "I actually wanted to be pointing my dad's .22 pistol at the camera lens but he wouldn't let me. He gave me an old walking cane to use instead. The Tommy Hilfiger puffer jacket came from the lost and found at William Fleming High School where my mom worked as a secretary. I was thrilled when she brought it home because we never spent money on expensive name brand clothing like that - we were for the most part strictly a sale rack, bargain bin, thrift store, yard sale, flea market kind of family when it came to clothes. My watch is some cheap off-brand fake gold department store watch." Mastering for this vinyl edition was overseen by Be With regular Simon Francis and it was cut by the esteemed Cicely Balston at Abbey Road Studios to be pressed in the Netherlands by Record Industry.

*A MODERN JAZZ REINTERPRETATION OF THE MUSIC FROM THE LEGEND OF ZELDA*

WRWTFWW Records is happy to announce the release of Casimir Liberski ReTRio's The Z Suites, a full-length jazz album reinterpreting the music from iconic Nintendo video game series The Legend of Zelda. The epic Z-Jazz journey is available in the following formats: limited edition 180g half speed mastered vinyl double LP housed in a heavyweight sleeve with obi, digipack CD with cavalier, and digital.

Casimir Liberski reimagines the golden era of video game soundtracks with jazz versions of Zelda favorites The Legend of Zelda (1986), A Link to the Past (1991), Link's Awakening (1993), and Oscarina of Time (1998) - plus a few Easter eggs! Dancing between nostalgia and avant-garde, the Brussels-born pianist and composer crafts a sonic world of pixelated folklore where melody and improvisation coexist in harmony.

Music critic Arthur Meurant perfectly explains:

For many video games are a journey of the mind. Since its inception - dating back to the early seventies - this avant-garde artistic medium has nourished the imaginations of a digital age. Casimir, like many others, has been fed a steady diet of pixels from an early age. From simple squares to cultural cornerstones they have become the trail on which playful travelers of the mind retrace the steppes of history. A shared universe, familiar yet endless, of pocket-sized mythology. Its name? Hyrule. Its goal? To amaze. In these few tracks - selected with care - the Casimir Liberski ReTRio invites you, finally, to visit a space which does not exist yet holds us all. A land where all feel welcome. Where all are happy. But also... to rediscover under another timbre the classical compositions of Master Composer K?ji Kond?. A man who, unbeknownst to him, composed our dreams as well as music. That single noble pursuit, where an artist gives soul without losing his own, is yet again a statement of humanity in its purest of forms: art as that which brings us together and makes us whole in a world eroded by modernity. Pick up your key. Gather your maps. Open the door. Adventure calls.

Long live Hyrule jazz!

Capturing phantom drones behind dusty beats and haunted twangs, Ellis Swan and James Schimpl return for their third album as Dead Bandit. Locked into a musical language unique to their collaboration, the duo once again put us out to pasture across broad sonic plains, drums flapping like loose fence panels in the prairie breeze and bass rumbling like distant thunder. True to their previous two records, Swan and Schimpl keep the strung out guitars at the front of what they do, whether playing a naked, desolate strum or running six strings through disruptive effects processing until they're barely recognisable.
But while there are details of disturbance when listening to Dead Bandit's self-titled record up close, the wider impression is a smoother, more direct affair that toys with post-rock complexity and matches it with the emotional weight of melodic simplicity, gentle grooves and conscious arrangements. 'Weeds' offsets its languid fuzz guitar with shimmering sustained notes before settling into a patient, heavy-hearted composition charged with heartbreak leads pealing out in the middle distance.
By comparison, 'Glass' has a smoky, half-hidden backroom quality. Its brushed whisper of a beat, lingering guitar drones and subtle sub bass come on like a dub wise flip of a sad-eyed country ballad. The mood maintains on 'Half Smoked Cigarette', which captures the grey sky sullenness of post-punk and reframes it in the seductive isolation of rural America. While there's a thickness to the sound on these most direct of tracks on the album, there's also fragility inherent to the sound world Dead Bandit have been shaping out over these past few years.
'Buttercup' swaps sadness for sinister undercurrents, once more drawing on fulsome low end to fill out the sparse threads of instrumentation up top. 'Pink' finds a steady momentum for its own brand of brooding mystery, the sharp end of the beat bringing focus to the many-layered approaches to the guitar which roundly define the Dead Bandit sound. There's an even clearer direction mapped out in the vintage drum machine pulse of 'Koyo', all the better to carry swirling effects treatments and moody melodic figures. Even in these ominous climes there's space for plaintive, endearing hooks which land as the most direct phrases in Dead Bandit's musical lexicon to date.
The fundamental sound across this album holds true, but Dead Bandit are never bound to a singular practice. 'Lucien's Bitters' strikes up a pronounced drum machine beat which comes on like 90s downtempo, and it feels like a natural vessel for the heavy, shoegaze tinted lament of the guitars. At every turn, Swan and Schimpl prove their affinity for all kinds of approaches, and yet the end product is a deeply cohesive, immediate listen that shows just how clear their creative vision really is.

On Hardcore, James Mapley-Brittle (GRRL) and Nick Sanborn (Made of Oak), meld their love of late-night club music to make mind-bending high-energy dance music. GRRL is one of the brightest emerging stars in the underground arts space and a regular collaborator with PC Music, NTS, and more; Sanborn is better known as one half of the Grammy-nominated electronic pop duo Sylvan Esso. First sparked during DJ sets in North Carolina basements, the duo's unique creative chemistry has grown exponentially since the 2022 release of their debut EP, Inertia. GRRL x Made of Oak's glitched-out sounds have been featured on Adult Swim, Fortnite, and with their own sample pack on Splice. Finding new fans in the likes of Björk, Arca, AG Cook, Porter Robinson, Barker and DJs across the world, GRRL x Made of Oak is an exhilarating experience that will shake the speakers and get any after-hours dance floor moving.

Hank Dogs – Andy Allan, his partner Piano and Lily, Andy’s daughter from a previous relationship - started out at folk clubs in London in the early 1990s before going worldwide in 1998 when legendary producer and late 60s Folk Rock guru, Joe Boyd declared them the first British act he'd loved in 30 years. Their debut album ‘Bareback’ saw them touring the US with Joan Baez and winning fans with their quiet, haunting sound featuring ethereal vocal harmonies, strong traces of blues and Celtic music and Allan’s fluid acoustic finger-picking recalling UK folk guitarists such as John Renbourn. Another part of their appeal, particularly in the States, was their ‘Carter Family’ image but then, when Andy and Piano split-up in real life, so did the band. A follow up album ‘Half Smile’ appeared in 2002 but this turned out to be their swansong. However, the story was not quite over yet.. a third unreleased album ‘Fiveways’ had been recorded before they went their separate ways and now it’s finally seeing the light of day on South London label Scratchy Records, plus the band are re-uniting for some long overdue gigs to celebrate the release. ‘Fiveways’ contains much of the Hank Dogs’ trademark English folk/US country-straddling sound. Piano’s voice bounces between early Suzanne Vega, Tracey Thorn and Mary Margaret O’Hara with occasional hints of Dolores Cranberry and Bridget St. John, while underneath the acoustic guitars run freeform tangled and Lily’s backing vocals add sky. Stand out track ‘Logic’ with its pensive lyrics and haunting guitar line recalls the way Suzanne Vega (her again) could sometimes make songs stand still in their tracks but it’s the dreamy ‘Nut’ that really captures the mood “You had me when I was sweet as a nut.. Not sweet enough” sings Piano. This is the sound of two ex-lovers still able to work together but unable to hide the odd dig here and there.. like a follow up album a couple of years later on from ‘Blood On The Tracks’. Andy sings a few songs too including the raggedy, swashbuckling ‘Gazetteer’ revolving around a ‘Pre-CBS Maple neck Sunburst bought off The Pretty Things’ and hinting at a whole lifetime of music biz escapades from watching his dad Elkan Allan produce 60s TV show ‘Ready Steady Go’ to a stint on bass in The Professionals along with Steve Jones and Paul Cook. Next year the story carries on with his long-running South East London ‘Easycome’ club night featuring in US TV queen Lena Dunham’s new Netflix series ‘Too Much’. Towards the end of the album an angelic setting of Dylan Thomas’s ‘Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night’ in the song ‘Nod’ recalls Christmas TOTP number ones from days gone by and captures Hank Dogs ability to transport the listener. This album is definitely one for the dreamers. FFO Pentangle, The Innocence Mission and William Blake

This October Jamiroquai celebrates the 30th anniversary of ‘The Return Of The Space Cowboy’. Their second album, it will be reissued as a double-LP set on 140g “moon grey” vinyl and includes Michael Gray’s Good Vibe Zone edit of ‘Space Cowboy’ - which has never been released on a physical product. The packaging has also been re-designed for this anniversary release including foil enhancement of the original cover design.

‘The Return Of The Space Cowboy’ is the follow up album to the band’s huge 1993 debut, ‘Emergency On Planet Earth’. Selling over 3 million copies globally, ‘Emergency On Planet Earth’ put the band on the map with their distinctive sound standing them apart from other popular acts of the time.

‘The Return Of The Space Cowboy’ was released just one year later and was met with great critical and public acclaim. Certified Platinum in the UK, Japan and France, it achieved chart success in multiple countries and spawned the single ‘Space Cowboy’ which remains one of their biggest tracks to date. Critically the album was lauded with Rolling Stone saying "Jamiroquai parlay jazzy soul pop so tight it crackles… Nowadays, when most funk comes out of cans, Jamiroquai's live spark glows", The Guardian said “... this second album sounds like vintage Stevie Wonder and Johnny 'Guitar' Watson, but Kay's vocals are as snappy and engaging as his extrovert persona" and Q magazine said it “combines intricate arrangements with several long, free-form workouts crammed with virtuoso performances".

For many, this album is defined by some of the most complex songwriting the band have ever produced and Jay Kay called it “one of our most creative and accomplished albums”. The process of making the album came with many challenges. Having to recruit a new drummer (after Nick Van Gelder failed to return from holiday), the band were met with second-album syndrome with Kay proclaiming since that lyrics weren’t coming "... because suddenly I wasn't homeless, I had everything I needed. So I found myself creating problems to write about." The songwriting process was complex for the band as Jay Kay was often dissatisfied with the results, leading songs to be scrapped or rewritten, but half-way through recording Kay wrote ‘Space Cowboy’, a song which reflects darker times during the recording session, and it became the catalyst of creative inspiration helping them finish the record. On this 30th anniversary edition of the album Space Cowboy gets a modern dance makeover courtesy of DJ Michael Gray, shedding new light on the track and emphasising it’s already infectious groove.

The album built on the success of ‘Emergency On Planet Earth’ and Jamiroquai have become one of the UK’s most pioneering and ground breaking bands of the past 30 years. Pushing boundaries and bringing jazz and funk to a mainstream audience, their sound is not only unique, but immediately recognisable.

Archeo Recordings' rewarding relationship with Tony Esposito continues on AR027, as the label provide a remastered reissue of his transcendent fusion-pop masterpiece "Pagaia" alongside a trio of brand new reworks from Perugia's mighty Feel Fly. Whether you're looking for cosmic house, mellow acid, trancey techno or dubby downbeat, these remixes have you covered, and the original remains a true work of art. Available in all good record stores on 12th July as a 50 copy super limited edition on Solid Blue Vinyl (including gadget scarf) and limited black vinyl edition.
50 copy Solid Blue Vinyl Edition (including gadget scarf), and also limited black vinyl run "Pagaia" hails from the Neapolitan percussionist's 1982 LP Tamburo, his first release for the brilliant Bubble imprint. Though the album delights and excites from start to finish, dancing through jazz-funk, Mediterranean pop, slow disco and smooth fusion, it's "Pagaia" which is first among equals. Esposito's nuanced hand drums lay the foundation for Claudio Pizzale, Sara Borsarini and Simona Pirone's wordless vocals, a life affirming chorus which carries us onto the swell of bass, piano and horns which drive the track through four and a half minutes of emotional release. Emphatic and expressive, the track transports the listener into a state of body moving rapture, all driven by Tony's rhythmic fluency. The song found its way into Italian living rooms over the credits of TV show Domenica In, and found its way into club culture thanks to fanatical support from the likes of Daniele Baldelli, who even included it on his first official Cosmic compilation.
Following a string of essential releases for the likes of Internasjonal, International Feel and New Interplanetary Melodies, Daniele Tomassini, better known as Feel Fly, now joins the Archeo family with a trio of contemporary club translations of the killer "Pagaia". The Perugian's "Cosmical Remix" extends that familiar introduction into a deep and DJ-friendly blend of drum and voice, awash with airy reverb and augmented by additional percussion, building through the original piano and bass into the churn of a dance floor wormhole. Driven by an unstoppable sequencer throb, the interpretation skirts the dark side of space before landing in the light of the miracle, those heavenly vocals and lush keys leading the way. The "Instrumental Cosmical Remix", not entirely instrumental, but utterly cosmical nonetheless, sees Daniele serve a tense and tracky arrangement of his first rework, perfect for deep space exploration. Stripped of the joyful exuberance of the original, this variation is a complex blend of shadowy trance idents and the mature techno we'd expect from the likes of François K. Not content with soundtracking either side of the peaktime, Feel Fly serves up a third version, following the Compass Point through a musical map of club-dub to turn out an immersive interpolation of deep bass, spring reverb and stabbing keys that sits perfectly beside the Rhythm & Sound catalogue. Each interpretation is an emphatic demonstration of Tomassini's musical talent, production prowess, and stylistic range, and furthermore a fitting tribute to the lasting genius of Esposito's original.

repress !

Following acclaimed singles from Powell, Blood Music, Shit & Shine and Prostitutes, the next release from Diagonal is a landmark. It marks both the London label's first full-length album release, and the return of abrasive and furiously funky hip-hop deconstructionists Death Comet Crew, one of the most quietly influential underground acts to emerge from the creative melting pot of 1980s New York.

Ghost Among The Crew documents the group's return to studio operations for the first time since the 80s, as well as their first ever full-length studio album. It's a remarkable trip: a consolidation of their early feral disassemblies of hip-hop and electro, but also broader in scope, chewing up and spitting out fragments of soul, jazz fusion, punk and industrial music.
Death Comet Crew were founded in New York City in 1983 by Stuart Argabright, a founder member of post-punk/industrial mavericks Ike Yard and the mind behind Dominatrix and later Black Rain. Their sound, then as now, was a singular proposition: urban in mood, exploratory, often compellingly danceable, yet confrontational. It emerged from the interweaving talents of the group's varied members: guitarist Michael Diekmann (of Ike Yard), bassist Shinichi Shimokawa (later of Black Rain) and Nick Taylor aka DJ High Priest, frequently joined by the late, great hip hop artist and graffiti writer Rammellzee. Having recorded two studio EPs - 1985's At The Marble Bar (featuring Rammellzee) and its follow-up Mystic Eyes - the group disbanded barely a year after forming. They left behind a reputation for their incendiary live performances, several recordings from which were gathered on crucial 2004 compilation This Is Riphop.
The musical climate that first birthed Death Comet Crew was one of fertile cross-pollination of styles. In the late 1970s and early 1980s, the seeds of modern day urban musics - hip hop, punk and post-punk, no wave - were taking root in the streets of recession-struck New York City. Argabright recalls dancing at the downtown Mudd Club around 1980 to a bold mixture of styles, with DJs cutting from synth-pop and post-punk to funk, soul and early hip-hop: Bowie and James Brown next to Run DMC, Ultravox and Gary Numan. Indeed, the names of his New York contemporaries operating around the same time - the likes of Liquid Liquid, Run DMC, Afrika Bambaataa, Arthur Russell, ESG, Swans, Sonic Youth, Bill Laswell and more - have since been inscribed in modern music history.
With previous projects Dominatrix and Ike Yard having recently become inactive, in 1984 Argabright formed Death Comet Crew as a means of exploring new sonic avenues. He'd been experimenting with tape, recording and procesing the sounds of his surrounding environment and dialogue from films and TV. Joined by Shimokawa, Diekmann and Taylor, and using drum machines, turntables, spidery guitar and bass, the group assembled a scrambled collage of rhythms and sampled voices. Their live performances were, in Argabright's words, "aurally violent, sharp-edged, downright lacerating", hacking gleefully away at hip hop and electro's rhythmic frameworks. Rammellzee joined the group to vocal 1985 debut EP At The Marble Bar; his MC turn on highlight 'Exterior Street' is all the more remarkable for having been entirely freestyled in the studio. When Death Comet Crew reformed in 2003 for a string of live shows, he continued as an active member of the group, touring and working with them during the recording of Ghost Among The Crew, until he sadly passed away in 2010.
After reforming, Death Comet Crew began writing and recording new material. Now, following on from their just-released Galacticoast 12" through Citinite, Ghost Among The Crew - its title a homage to Rammellzee - hones the group's abrasive early experimentations while tripping into bold and astrally minded new territory. Alongside the core quartet of Argabright, Diekmann, Shimokawa and Taylor are new voices, including Rapscallion (a friend of Rammellzee's), Jessica 6/Hercules & Love Affair singer Nomi Ruiz, and Carolyn 'Honeychild' Coleman. Its eight tracks are steeped in the impulsive spirit of electric Miles and the deep space romances of Sun Ra, and possessed of an enigmatic yet undeniable pop edge. But equally they're pricked with urban paranoia and dread, traits that have long been hallmarks of Argabright's musical projects.
'Me Czar Of The Magyars' opens the album in a twist of tension like the turning of a ratchet. Its taut electroid shudder is paired with machine gunned cymbal hits and a voice telling of "wormwood and opium dens" - the sound of being teleported from everyday city streets into the astral plane, where every sensory input is heightened and the promise of danger or pleasure lurks unseen around every corner. Later, Coleman's lyrics pay tribute to Rammellzee on the sci-fi funk of 'Deep Space Woman'. 'Let The Clubs Ring' melts lounge bar organs and frazzled guitar into freakishly unstable shapes, while 'Drag Racing' matches its title, rocketing along frantically atop clattering drums. 'Moons On Titan's Seas' is halfway interlude pause for rest, like an exotic cocktail in a bar orbiting some as-yet-undiscovered new world. These varied strands are somehow all summarised in album closer 'Ignition Spark', which sets Ruiz's vocals alongside Taylor's and Argabright's. The zone the trio inhabit in this final track exists in perpetual push-pull between contemplation, memory, intrigue and violence, a decisive opening of a new chapter in Death Comet Crew's history.

As with all Diagonal releases, the initial vinyl pressing will be packaged in unique, specially designed artwork.

Nia Archives is the star at the forefront of the latest era of jungle. Since her emergence in 2020, her collagist soundscapes have helped bring the sound to a new generation of clubgoers (though fair warning: don’t call her a “revivalist” – she’s the first to point out that the scene never went away). So when it comes to talk of the 24-year-old producer, DJ, singer and songwriter’s much-anticipated debut album, the odds are you’re thinking of a full-length record of weightless jungle tracks with basslines so intense they’ll leave your ears ringing.

But the reality of the Bradford-born, Leeds-raised artist’s first ever album – while very much replete with that exquisite jungle sound she does so well – is also doing something a little different. On the thrilling and freeing Silence Is Loud, Nia Archives is looking to make music for beyond the rave. As she explains: “I think music can be experienced in different ways, and there’s different kinds of music for different scenarios. Say you’re at a festival listening to music with thousands of other people, that can feel really uniting. But then you might listen to an album on your own in the bus, or in a taxi; and this project is definitely more a record to sit and listen to than a collection of club tracks.” Nia is intent that Silence Is Loud is taken in as a full body of work of something “more song-focussed, putting interesting sounds on jungle.” It means that this is a record which finds gloomy Britpop, warm Motown, soaring indie, a love for Kings of Leon’s Aha Shake Heartbreak, skittering IDM, Madchester, classic rock, old skool hardcore and more, woven and fused into her ragga and junglist tapestry, all layered with feeling, imbued with her songwriterly lyricism about loneliness, relationships, family, navigating her 20s, and the intense potential power of silence.

The vast sonic palette on Silence Is Loud comes down to Nia’s broad array of influences through her life. With her Jamaican heritage, Nia remembers hearing jungle as a child via her nana, as well as at Bradford Carnival, where she was drawn to the soundsystem culture, dancing carefree on the floats in the parade. The first album she ever bought was Rihanna’s debut, Music of the Sun, and she also went to Pentecostal church back then, and was obsessed with gospel. Aged 16, she moved to Manchester, where she didn’t really know anybody: and so, her solution to meeting people was going out. “Partying was a huge part of my life,” she says, “They used to do little freestyle cyphers at the house parties and I would join in – that’s kind of how I got into singing.” She had found music boring at school, but in meeting all these new people she became interested in making her own music as a hobby. “I was making boom-bap kind of stuff which I didn’t really like in the end,” she laughs, “My lyrics are quite deep, so on a hip-hop beat it all sounds really depressing. I wanted people to dance to my music.” And so she began experimenting with faster tempos alongside that melancholy songwriting, teaching herself how to make beats on Logic: “It’s all been a lot of trial and error, really.”

Nia went to study music in London, and was also interested in visual art, making collages and VHS: “Before the music, I was trying to make a visual archive of my life and the people around me,” she explains, “And then my music was like my diary, and a sonic archive, as well.” Hence, she paired the word “archives” with her middle name, Nia. To this day, in her spare time she’s working on pulling together a documentary on the global nature of the jungle scene.

Back on those first two EPs, Headz Gone West (2021) and Forbidden Feelingz (2022), she honed that junglist sound, painting it with new flecks of colour and vibrance. It was only after she started releasing work that she realised pursuing music could be a viable life path for her. The decision has been paying off ever since. Nia Archives placed third in the prestigious BBC Sound Poll for 2023, alongside garnering a nomination for the Brit Awards’ Rising Star prize, plus wins at the DJ Mag, NME, the MOBOs and Artist and Manager Awards. She has also toured the world – be it North America, Europe or Asia – and even opened a show in London as part of a little something called Beyoncé’s Renaissance World Tour. She’s renowned as a party-starter in her own right, too, with takeovers at Glastonbury, Warehouse Project and her own Bad Gyalz day event. She’s done official remixes for the likes of Jorja Smith, had a huge summer hit with her Yeah Yeah Yeahs rework ‘Off Wiv Ya Headz’, and worked with brands like Corteiz, Nike, Flannels, Burberry, FIFA and Apple. In just three years, it’s fair to say that Nia Archives has become a need-to-know name in dance music.

But Nia is not interested in being one fixed thing. Building on the terrain from her third EP, Sunrise Bang Ur Head Against Tha Wall, the universe of Silence Is Loud is not totally unfamiliar territory; but it’s still emblematic of a bolder scope than we’ve heard from the artist before. Working with Ethan P. Flynn (the songwriter and producer known for his work with FKA twigs and David Byrne), the resulting record is an impressive feat of deftly-sculpted textures; sometimes big and euphoric, like the wobbly, lusty bass of ‘Forbidden Feelingz’, or elsewhere notably gentle and quiet – see: the gorgeous, surprisingly drumless ‘Silence Is Loud (Reprise)’, a heartfelt number that sits somewhere in the school of Adele. “I really sharpened my songwriting skill on this project,” Nia says, “I was really intentional about what I was writing about, and I really loved co-producing with Ethan. His process is so different to anyone I’ve worked with before, and he’s got a kind of DIY set-up like me.” Flynn’s flat overlooks the Barbican, adding that unquantifiable futurist urban quality that the area holds to the music. The pair enjoyed the collaborative process so much that the album was done within three and a half months.

Perhaps this is why Silence Is Loud maintains an exuberant immediacy while still being sleek and spacious, interspersed with flourishes of metallic beats, lush melody and topped with her sugary but powerful vocal, floating over it all. There is an intimacy to the record, perhaps in part due to Nia writing most of her lyrics while sitting in bed in her flat in Bow (once a bedroom producer, always a bedroom producer). You can hear it on the refrain for lead single ‘Crowded Roomz’, which finds rippling guitar lines cutting taut through the beats as Nia refrains: “I feel so lonely crowded rooms.” The song is an examination of life on tour, constantly surrounded by people, but not necessarily those she can be herself around; more than that, the track is exemplary in the category of sad bangers.

Silence Is Loud often finds itself in that push and pull between melancholy and euphoria. There’s a celebration of her unconditional love for her younger brother (the title track), a rumination of an evening with an Irish boy she met by Temple Bar (‘Cards On The Table), or a letter to herself on the light and airy ‘Unfinished Business’, even coming to terms with a lover having a past they haven’t quite processed yet (“nobody comes with a clean slate”). The latter was recorded the week after a music festival, and accordingly captures Nia’s vocal in its not quite healed, husky state.

Nia’s work is always a snapshot of where she’s at when she’s making it. This might not be the debut album you were expecting, but that’s what makes Silence Is Loud so special. Nia Archives has learned the rules of her sound, and is unafraid to break them, pushing jungle and herself into new, unchartered territories that, in turn, go some way to map the history of the greats of British dance music. More than that, it plants her firmly in that lineage.

Soul Jazz Records’ feature-length documentary/CD/Book ‘Studio One Story’ is being re-released on 1 August 2011, and is also available for the first time as a stand alone DVD. The DVD is being issued as a prelude to the forthcoming deluxe-hardback book ‘Original Cover Art of Studio One Records’ released this autumn by Soul Jazz Records as well as a new Studio One album compilation on Soul Jazz to coincide with the new book.

Studio One Story is a documentary this is both a staggering slice of musical history and a definitive guide to Studio One, Jamaica’s greatest ever record company, and its legendary founder, Clement ‘Coxsone’ Dodd. ‘Studio One Story’ was filmed in 2002, two years before the death of the legendary Clement ‘Sir Coxsone’ Dodd, a man famously reticent of being interviewed - until the making of this film. Described by Chris Blackwell as the Motown of Jamaica, or ‘The University of Reggae’, Studio One is where the careers of literally hundreds of reggae artists began: Bob Marley and the Wailers, Alton Ellis, The Heptones, Ken Boothe, The Skatalites, Burning Spear and Sugar Minott, to name but a few! Studio One is the ‘foundation’ label of Jamaican Reggae and Clement ‘Sir Coxsone’ Dodd is seen by many as its father.

One and a half years in the making, Studio One Story is a truly unique documentary in which the late Clement Dodd gave unprecedented personal access to tell the previously untold story of how he and the many artists and musicians at Studio One literally shaped the rise of Reggae music from the 1950s onwards through to the late 1970s. This is the true story of reggae music and its Jamaican roots told from the inside: From the rise of Kington’s sound systems in the 1940s and 1950s, through to the evolution of a Jamaican music industry (and Studio One’s dominance) in the 1960s and the worldwide success of reggae in the 1970s.

The 4 hour documentary (including over an hour of extras) was filmed on location in Kingston, Jamaica and features interviews with Horace Andy, Alton Ellis, Ken Boothe, Sugar Minott, Denis Alcapone, The Ethiopians, Sylvan Morris, Johnny Moore, Lone Ranger, King Stitt and many others. The DVD also includes rare footage of The Skatalites, Jackie Mittoo, Count Ossie, Marcia Griffiths and others. As well as the stand-alone DVD, Soul Jazz Records are reissuing the original (DVD +CD+Book) original box set.

IF YOU ARE ORDERING THIS PLEASE CHECK IF YOU NEED NTSC (AMERICA, JAPAN, ETC) OR PAL (EUROPE, AUSTRALIA, ETC).
THE DVD HAS FRENCH AND ENGLISH SUBTITLES.

NB.MP3 Release is for the audio CD only.

REVIEWS ‘Studio One was Jamaica’s Motown. This documentary brings it brilliantly to life.’ The Telegraph ‘The history of Clement ‘Coxsone’ Dodd’s legendary Jamaica studio is fantastically told through interviews, copious amounts of music and historical footage and more.’ Uncut ‘Studio One Story is no mere historical document; it is a map that will lead you directly to a massive seam, endlessly mineable, of musical gold’ The Observer ‘A fascinating documentary’ The Telegraph ‘Compulsive viewing for anyone with an interest in Reggae’ The Wire

Clear Vinyl

Blue Lake is the musical moniker of American born, Copenhagen based multidisciplinary artist and musician Jason Dungan, who signs to the Tonal Union imprint for the release of his new longform album ‘Sun Arcs’. It follows 2022’s release ‘Stikling’, earning a nomination for ‘Album of the Year’ at the Danish Music Awards plus warm praise from The Hum blog and musicians and DJs alike including Jack Rollo (Time is Away/NTS) and Carla dal Forno. A self taught player, Dungan began freely experimenting with self-built multi-string instruments, preferring to build his own hybrid 48-string zither and working in the realms of left-field ambient music, off kilter folk and improvised acoustic minimalism.

The starting point of ‘Sun Arcs’ saw Jason travel for a week alone to Andersabo, a cabin set in the idyllic Swedish woods just outside of Unnaryd, known also as the music project, festival and residency space which has been run by Dungan since 2016, hosting artists like Sofie Birch, Johan Carøe and Ellen Arkbro. Whilst writing 1-2 pieces per day, a conscious decision was made to leave behind everyday distractions and shut out the outside world to instead focus on the natural passage of time as Dungan recalls: “My only sense of time came from these daily walks out in the woods with my dog, and an awareness of the sun’s path as it moved across the sky each day.”

The album’s immersive world unfolds with the opener ‘Dallas’, an ode to his home state and a musical synthesis of these two disparate spaces (Texas and Denmark), the touchstones of Dungan’s life. A folk-esque single acoustic builds to a flowing arrangement of clarinets, organ and cello drones coupled with percussion. ‘Green-Yellow Field’ chimes in as the first of two solo oriented zither recordings twinned with the dreamlike title track ‘Sun Arcs’, both densely rich as cascading and overlapping harmonic tones resound. ‘Bloom’ emerges with a krautrock psyche before an eruption of cello drones, slide guitar and free-ranging zither playing, ushering in the anticipation of spring. With half of the recordings conceived in Andersabo, Jason returned to Copenhagen to form the album's centre piece ‘Rain Cycle’ which features a tempered Roland drum machine alongside shifting zither improvisations. ‘Writing’ explores the shimmering harp-like qualities of sweeping playing figurations with Dungan mapping out adjusted tuning “zones” on the zither for unconventional but creatively liberating effects. ‘Fur’ captures the feeling of openness and the momentum of time, seeing Dungan perform waves of solo clarinet, often in one takes and embellished with textural drones, a zither solo, and layers of guitar. ‘Wavelength’ the album's closer is fondly inspired by the film works of Michael Snow and Don Cherry’s seminal live album ‘Blue Lake’ (1974), as it builds out from a drone-generated zither chord and features an alto recorder solo. Dungan found a deep connection to Cherry’s stripped back performance ethos, focusing on the core beauty of minimal instrumentation creating a genre-less meeting between folk and jazz. A dialogue is formed between the solo and the bandlike performances, interlinked in a geographical duality with all finding a sense of commonplace as musical sketches of visited landscapes. The bountiful instrumentation ebbs and flows as further layers emerge with Dungan constructing his material much like an artist would, recording and reviewing, adding and subtracting.

Musically it portrays a form of double life led by an American-identifying person living in Scandinavia, and a new found presence in Denmark, seeking out underdeveloped marshlands and barren stretches of beach adrift from other rhythms and distractions. Highlighting their individual and potent importance Dungan concludes: “Both places feel like “me”, I think on some level the music is always some kind of self-portrait.” ‘Sun Arcs’ depicts the intricate balance of nature’s cycles and the paths outlined by the seasons, from a winter dormancy to a warm sun drenched scene. The album scales new glorying heights and further defines Dungan’s musical narrative, inhabiting a unique space in left-field, improvised and experimental music, borning his most accomplished compositions to date. A singular and visionary expression, drawing on an array of instruments and sound worlds with a renewed sense of joy and discovery.

The album's rich tapestry was mixed by Jeff Zeigler (Laraaji, Mary Lattimore, Kurt Vile /Steve Gunn) and mastered by Stephan Mathieu (Kali Malone, KMRU, Félicia Atkinson).

Creeping through an imaginary border, sidesteppin’ through the night like cyber phantoms eavesdropping on early morning machinery shifts, an industrial solstice for pagan mystics. After five years Torino’s mysterious SabaSaba are back with ‘Unknown City’ an imaginary soundtrack for a dystopian city: digital raga, horror Exotica, half-speed techno, metallic dub and organic electronics.

The duo of Andrea Marini (synth, guitar, electronics, tapes) and Gabriele Maggiorotto (drums, percussion, effects, programming) return with their most political manifesto yet, an intricate musical essay inspired by China Miéville’s novel ‘The City And The City’, examining border control, repression, an unknown city where people move like ghosts without personality and without communicating, monitored on sight by the authorities. SabaSaba’s personal OST is a whirlwind of analog and digital instruments colliding, textured samples, syncopated drums and spiritual synth sweeps often heightened by Ambra Chiara Michelangeli’s eerie viola playing, an ancestral force resisting under a cement tower, modulars gasping for air, endlessly reverberating into noir-soul and gray landscapes.

Like Miéville’s two imaginary cities Ul Qoma e Besźel, SabaSaba’s journey is cavernous, claustrophobic at times, but a clear sense of evasion and resistance breaks through, small flickers of light, like a cyborg calibrating himself - the hypnotic dub ambient of ‘False Speech’ - for an ecstatic liberation - the trance inducing ‘Wrists Free’ featuring UK industrial techno duo Jerome. ‘Ul Qoma’ unites

The long-anticipated debut album "Infernal Fractality", set for a late 2023 release, unleashes a relentless onslaught of sonic brutality that has consumed over half a decade of tireless devotion from the band's enigmatic founder, Ødemark (known for his work with 3rd Attempt, Ovate, and Necrocave). Ødemark, an artist driven by both the fiery passion of psychedelics and a relentless pursuit of extreme metal's uncharted territories, has woven these elements into an epic, violent, and boundary-defying soundscape that delves deep into the realms of the Luciferian ideals, non-duality pointers, and the mystic principles found in his own psychedelic experiences.

THE LAST EON was formed to push the boundaries of the established but dormant industrial black metal sound pioneered by bands such Thorns and Mysticum and to its maximum exponential, with the vision of "creating the most intense music in history", objective that took 6 years of obsession, a couple burnouts, and a whole galaxy of multi-colored uppers, downers, screamers and outers, to map the depths of the psychedelic experience that would be distilled into "Infernal Fractality". With the help of drummer Jarle Byberg, Ødemark created this whole beast by himself.

After years of pushing every conceivable boundary, and breaking every possible rule and standard in composition, production and sound design, the masterpiece was ready for the crucible of Zardonic's mastering process, who consolidated the behemoth of a more than 300 track project into a time-space shattering soundscape of cosmic proportions.

Mainman Ødemark states: “I wanted to push the limits of what extreme metal can be, and materialize a vision for the future of electronic black metal that required me to rebel against every single rule in my mind of what black metal is, to create what black metal can be. This included also the theme and lyrics, spreading awareness of the mind expanding psychedelic experiences and self exploration within the black metal culture.”

The long-anticipated debut album "Infernal Fractality", set for a late 2023 release, unleashes a relentless onslaught of sonic brutality that has consumed over half a decade of tireless devotion from the band's enigmatic founder, Ødemark (known for his work with 3rd Attempt, Ovate, and Necrocave). Ødemark, an artist driven by both the fiery passion of psychedelics and a relentless pursuit of extreme metal's uncharted territories, has woven these elements into an epic, violent, and boundary-defying soundscape that delves deep into the realms of the Luciferian ideals, non-duality pointers, and the mystic principles found in his own psychedelic experiences.

THE LAST EON was formed to push the boundaries of the established but dormant industrial black metal sound pioneered by bands such Thorns and Mysticum and to its maximum exponential, with the vision of "creating the most intense music in history", objective that took 6 years of obsession, a couple burnouts, and a whole galaxy of multi-colored uppers, downers, screamers and outers, to map the depths of the psychedelic experience that would be distilled into "Infernal Fractality". With the help of drummer Jarle Byberg, Ødemark created this whole beast by himself.

After years of pushing every conceivable boundary, and breaking every possible rule and standard in composition, production and sound design, the masterpiece was ready for the crucible of Zardonic's mastering process, who consolidated the behemoth of a more than 300 track project into a time-space shattering soundscape of cosmic proportions.

Mainman Ødemark states: “I wanted to push the limits of what extreme metal can be, and materialize a vision for the future of electronic black metal that required me to rebel against every single rule in my mind of what black metal is, to create what black metal can be. This included also the theme and lyrics, spreading awareness of the mind expanding psychedelic experiences and self exploration within the black metal culture.”

Temple, Bassey, MacLaine and now, Hurt; in a world of Shirleys, the name Sophia Ruby Katz has chosen for her music is perhaps prophetic as it captures her stunningly emotive vocal approach. And whilst Shirley Hurt might be the perfect nom de plume for the creative Toronto-based artist, it’s her self-titled debut album which positions her as protagonist of her own universe.

Traversing sonic landscapes, Shirley Hurt’s vocals ebb and flow like lyrical Ley lines tracking the contours of her own well-travelled map. By the age of 18, Hurt had travelled extensively, having lived in upwards of 20 different apartments and houses, as a result never really feeling “at home” anywhere. At this age was when Hurt found herself in New York, dipping her toes into various scenes and musical realms. The first and only place she ever felt at home, and a partial home-base for her, she travelled between Toronto and New York until the age of 26.When the project she was working on in New York reached a dead-end she returned West, moving in with musicians Harrison Forman (Hieronymus Harry, Zones) and Patrick Lefler (Roy, Possum). Being surrounded by their improvising at all hours, a new approach emerged. “Harrison is a virtuosic guitar player, and I hadn't picked up a guitar in any serious way since I was 16,” she says, “by osmosis I started playing again for fun.” Without agenda, the process grew organically from there.

Hurt and Forman decided to travel across the US and Canada in a trailer for half a year, with the entire album written in the final months of their trip. Hurt had been writing loose ideas here and there but felt blocked creatively. When the pair reached Berkley, they wound up house-sitting for a tuned-in friend who recommended she pray, in a very direct way, to remove the block. “I took her advice and to my surprise it worked. The album was conceptualized and finished within a couple of months.” Shapeshifting in tone and phrasing, Hurt’s music alchemizes the furthest corners of experimental indie folk, pop, and country into a singular sound with elegant unpredictability.

Whilst Shirley Hurt’s lyrical and structural ideas may have emerged on the road, the album was self-produced and recorded at Joseph Shabason (The War on Drugs)’s Aytche studio in Toronto’s West End. It was engineered by Nathan Vanderwielen and Chris Shannon (Bart), and Hurt enlisted collaborators Jason Bhattacharya, Nick Dourado, Patrick Lefler, and Harrison Forman to hone her vision. “I wasn’t sure what was going to happen with the songs until we returned to Toronto,” she recalls. “Joseph and I had been talking about working together after sending across some demos and Jason happened to recommend his studio at the exact same time, so everything came together naturally at that point.”

Whilst her most recent adventures may have seen Shirley Hurt bound for Texas as an official SXSW artist (hand-picked by Gorilla Vs Bear to perform at their own showcase), she currently resides in her native Canada, more specifically rural Ontario, close to friends and family, and is already working on her second album. The ties to lineage are interwoven in the fabric of the music. Hurt’s mother, artist Leala Hewak, instilled a lust for life and innate value of creativity in her from a young age as she explored the role of gallery owner, vintage jewellery show host, mid-century modern furniture expert, real estate agent, painter. Hurt’s father, a civil litigation lawyer and new-wave obsessed music lover with an extensive vinyl collection, introduced Hurt to a wide-range of artists at a young age such as Nina Hagen, Laurie Anderson, Tom Tom Club, and endless others.

In her video for ‘Problem Child’ Hurt’s grandmother walks her through a generationally revered pie-making process. One would be tempted to hear this, and other songs, as autobiographical. Yet, Hurt’s lyrics are rarely pulled from her relationships or personal history––at least not consciously. Rather, they arise from somewhere less tangible or defined. “Lyrics tend to come to me when I am doing non-musical things - washing dishes, brushing my dogs, walking to the grocery store. I have a lot of voice memos on my phone and half-filled notebooks and when I hear something, I have to stop what I'm doing to get the idea down. Usually it’s bits and pieces. It's rare a full song comes to me in one go, but it's great when they do, and those are often my favourites.”

Carving out a space of her own in an all-encompassing universe, Shirley Hurt is the introduction to a long artistic story, and if the journey so far is anything to go by, it will be stippled with evermore unpredictable chapters.

Chicago"s Axis: Sova hit the beaches of southern California with Ty Segall to make a total hi-fi classic. Often feral and consistently catchy, Blinded By Oblivion is lit up with interlocking drum kit + drum machine, adventuresome guitar, bass, and harmonic vocals on every song. Icy lyrical perspectives, rendered in a sunshiny natural paradise, transmit the fun and fraud of human polarities with urgency and an occasional eye roll. Making for an undeniably good/bad time, streamlined and more reflexibly physical than previously known, Blinded By Oblivion begs the universe to bring back rock and roll radio. All the elements are there: compassion for our collective fallibility, rebuke on the tip of the tongue, all rolled tight with hook-laden, high-energy construction. "Bout halfway through Blinded By Oblivion, we hear Sova say, "I think my heart is made of metal." Yuuuup. But we"d argue there"s at least a ventricle or two made of post punk! And with vena cavae split between psych and southern boogie. And cardiac veins of glam, power pop, and punk Sometimes the heart is simply filled with sweet melody - so man, the beats of this metallic muscle are insane!