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Set those filters to stun and get the glitterball rotating, because Italy's Giuseppe Scarano is back with some serious glitzy disco gear on his Cardiology label. 'BEK Again' boasts a hefty house undercarriage on which the brass, handclaps and funk are transported, a Jackson-esque vocal hook proving to be the cherry on top. 'Remember Da Name' and 'Know About Me' are a little sparser, with a garage beat not a million miles from some of Van Helden or Roger Sanchez's late 90s work, the musical gloriousness squashed down by filters until it's finally allowed to peak and soar. 'New Funk' completes the four track package, a tad slower and funkier with a sublimely wriggling bassline the central factor.

”The Slow Rush”, das vierte Album von Kevin Parker als Tame Impala, wurde im Februar 2020 mit großem Erfolg veröffentlicht. Parker erreichte seine zweite Nr. 1 in Australien und sein bisher höchstes Chart-Album sowohl in den USA als auch in Großbritannien sowie 14 Top-10-Chartplatzierungen weltweit.

Die neue Farbversion von ”The Slow Rush” in limitierter Auflage, die zum ersten Mal seit der Erstveröffentlichung neu aufgelegt wurde, erscheint auf 180 Gramm cremeweißem Vinyl.

Mit ”Lost In Yesterday”, ”Borderline”, ”It Might Be Time”, ”Breathe Deeper” und ”Is It True” taucht Parker auf ”The Slow Rush” in die Tiefen des Ozeans der Zeit und beschwört das Gefühl eines Lebens in
einem Blitzmoment herauf, über wichtige Meilensteinen, die vorbeisausen, während man auf sein Handy schaut, ist es ein Loblied auf Schöpfung und Zerstörung und den unendlichen Kreislauf des Lebens.

Growing up in the Californian sprawl and the vast suburbs of Phoenix, Arizona, Caleb Dailey largely dismissed the country and western music that surrounded him. Instead, he was drawn to independent rock, experimental zones, and other genre-defying forms, which led him to create skewed rock music with Bear State and establish the “minimal art label” Moone Records with his brother Micah Dailey in 2013. But in the early half of the 2010s, Dailey began to hear things differently. Drawn into the left-of-center works of artists like Gram Parsons and Blaze Foley, a more idiosyncratic take on country, folk, and roots music began to swirl in his imagination.

Wandering into the form’s cowboy chords and lonesome scenes, Dailey found himself wondering what his own country album might sound like. The result is his debut solo album, a collection of covers called Warm Evenings, Pale Mornings; Beside You Then. Produced by John Dieterich of Deerhoof, Keiko Beers, and Dailey himself, it’s a melancholy charmer, rooted in traditional ideas but free roaming in its scope. Laced with synths, pedal steel, acoustic guitars, and commanded by Dailey’s full and woozy voice, it owes as much to the busted waltzes of Lambchop and the homespun lo-fi folk of Little Wings (whose Kyle Field appears on the album via a spoken intermission) as it does to the songwriters and performers who provide its source material, which include Parsons, Foley, Elvis Presley associate Chips Moman, steel guitarist Buddy Emmons, and others.

“The subversive nature of country music isn’t as much at the surface as some other genres,” Dailey says. “But the deeper down the ‘country hole’ I went, the more I wanted to be part of it. It is truly a strange world.”

The hands of Dailey and his collaborators, which includes a wide roster of DIY experimentalists like James Fella of art punks Soft Shoulder, Jay Hufman (Gene Tripp), Lonna Kelley of Giant Sand, Japanese DIY hero’s Koji Shibuya and Tori Kudo, Nicholas Krgovich, Markus Acher of The Notwist, and more, that strangeness is accentuated. Dailey doesn't aspire to retro Nashville fetishism or sanctioned notions of “realness” so much as a genuine outsider authenticity. Take his version of Gordon Lightfoot’s “If You Could Read My Mind” for example: a highlight of the record, it pairs familiar genre signifiers like pedal steel and guitar strums with warbled synths. Then there’s his read of “Dreaming My Dreams,” originally made famous by Waylon Jennings (who also did time in the Arizona desert), which morphs from a mournful ballad into a wash of far-off sonic noise.

The attention here is on the songcraft itself, with Dailey inhabiting these songs and turning them inside out to reveal unexpected tenderness and playfulness.

Recorded at home with an acoustic guitar and 4-track, Dailey began open correspondences with his collaborators, who fleshed out ideas and added touches, often working with skeletal frames before Dieterich and Dailey shaped it into a cohesive whole. “John is the reason this album exists,” Dailey says. “He sculpted all these parts together in such an otherworldly way. He is truly a magician.” Deeply allergic to insincerity, Dailey avoids any trace of irony. He’s created a cohesive gem out of disparate parts, uniting Americana songcraft with experimental disassemblage. From this bric-à-brac, he’s made something touching and beautifully strange.

Back in 1968, a pair of Germanic behind-the-scenes sound
librarians called Horst Ackermann and Heribert Thusek left a
tiny but indelible pinprick on the history of German Pop in the
misshaped form of a sexy horror cash-in concept album called
‘Dracula’s Music Cabinet’. Shelved at a micro-cosmic axis
where Krautrock meets lesbian vampire Horrortica and easy
listening meets psychedelia, the delayed reaction of this mutant
concoction eventually exploded in the mid-1990s in the hands of
a generation of ‘record diggers’ sending currency-crushing
tremors through the wallets of mods, rockers, hip hoppers and
psych nuts around the plastic-pillaging planet. The vinyl junkies
had resurrected a monster but, like addicts do, they ravenously
sucked it dry and moved on looking for the next fix to feed their
habit.

Luckily for some, Ackermann and Thusek were also creatures
of habit. And it wouldn’t take a genius to figure out that they
were holding the next dose, but by the turn of the millennium
the mad scientists had been given a thirty-five-year head start
on the pop archaeologists and their mythical sequel was literally
light-years ahead of their previous draconian instalment.
Encouragingly, the unclosed cabinet left a shiny white clue in
the form of its closing track ‘Frankenstein Meets Alpha 7’.

The Ackermann and Thusek duo were far from dynamic. They
were undercover agents hiding behind user-friendly mock-rock
monikers and, like most B-Musicians, the only way to sniff them
out would be to read the small print. But when an unidentified
record on an unknown label with a title like ‘Science Fiction
Dance Party’ crops up in the Eins Deutschmark crates it’s not
exactly rocket science - although the track titles might suggest
otherwise. ‘The End Of A Robot’, ‘Monster On Saturn 1’,
‘Galactic Adventures Of The Outer Space Fleet’, ‘The Whistling
Astronauts’, ‘Death Rays Out Of The Universe’… The tell-tale
signs are all there and if that doesn’t clench the deal then what
will?

Even rarer than its horror counterpart, this ultra-rare record
regularly reaches sums in excess of €400 plus online.

Finders Keepers present this uber-rare soundtrack to a
film that never existed, performed by an imaginary pop
group. Incredible Polanski-inspired German hip-hop
psychsploitation beats from 1969.

This is the movie soundtrack to a film that never existed.
This is the movie soundtrack by the band that was never
requested. These were the sound library musicians who
had to invent their own clients and imaginary cast, crew
and plot to get their music heard, by a niche audience,
before floating deep into the depths of the rare record
reservoir gasping for breath.

To take a cinematic cue the record in question is the
Eurotrash pop equivalent of Jean Renoir’s
tragic/triumphant Boudu character who as a homeless,
confused and desolate down-and-out plunged to the
depths to be unwillingly rescued, resuscitated then after
gradually winning the hearts of an entire family becomes
respected and revered as royalty. Over twenty years after
the mad scientists, Dr. Horst and Ackermann, first
breathed life into this short-lived beast, brave and intrepid
vinyl explorers have sporadically returned to the doors of
Dracula’s Music Cabinet to resurrect the sonic spooks and
mutated melodies to share with nerds, mods, rockers, hiphoppers, psych nuts and Krautsiders alike. The lifeless
corpses of The Vampires Of Dartmoore that lay six feet
beneath the belly of the Eins Deutschmark bins has since
crept through the record collections of the aforementioned
social circles devouring continental currencies and
demanding random ransoms of €250 plus, not to mention
sweat, tears (of laughter) and a lot of blood.

Revamped, remastered, and re-presented! Available once
again since the initial Finders Keepers’ limited edition 2009
pressing.

The artistic oeuvre of Berlin-based Sonja Deffner is as extensive and diverse as its contexts are high-profile: If the classically trained musician could in recent years be heard as a member of the groups Jason & Theodor, Die Heiterkeit, Globus and PTTRNS, as part of Christiane Rösinger's touring band, or as a recording musician on Andreas Spechtl's (Ja, Panik) albums, she has at the same time produced an acclaimed graphic work, video works and made her theater debut. Under the name Kalme, Deffner now presents her solo debut »Neue Sprache«, which feels like a culmination: Deffner doesn't need much space to present an artistic position of spectacular incisiveness and maturity.

The formal language of Kalme's debut evolves with reference to experimental pop and R&B, but equally informed by ambient electronics or dub techno. Analog and digital sound synthesis meet Deffner's characteristic use of field recordings, acoustic instrumentation (clarinet, percussion) meets musical post-production, sampling meets expressive synthesizer playing. At the center of the album, however, are Deffner's remarkable lyrics, written in German for the first time. Deffner creates a language of stark, emotional poignancy that is as conspiratorial as it is precise. The themes of the tracks develop between the poles of movement and stagnation, understood as motifs of biographical as well as musical ways of being or relating. In this forcefield, personal and political considerations coincide again and again, for example when Deffner reflects on her experiences with the social conditioning of femininity and motherhood.

The album title »Neue Sprache« (»New Language«), then, describes a search for forms of articulation of solidarization: language as a tool of a new relationship to the world that allows testimony to individual experience without reproducing categories of repression. In this way, Kalme's debut simultaneously achieves a radical intimacy, just as, on the other hand, the confrontation of language and sound repeatedly opens up fissures that deny any semblance of comfort. »Neue Sprache« does not stop at this modernist gesture, however, but unquestionably takes a stand. That's what Kalme's »Neue Sprache« ultimately is: the taking of a position. A statement.

Dear is Pauwel's big step forward. His debut album on Unday (due April 2020) is a mature collection of songs about loss in all its different facets. Pauwel openly confronts his demons, without ever losing sight of the essence: rock-solid and captivating folk songs between hope and despair, comforting and disquieting at the same time. Dear turns out a record to cherish and completely disappear into.

Shortly after Pauwel finished his previous EP, his mother passed away. A few weeks later, Europe went into lockdown for a second time. Pauwel wanted to cope with this turbulent episode on his debut on Unday Records, but the isolation during the pandemic only cast more doubts. During the darkest winter months, the 31-year-old songwriter realized that loss comes in many guises: lovers come to leave, suddenly leave or turn out to have become strangers. "Dear" is the account of this dark period in Pauwel's life. A reckoning with all the bad that happened to him and his peers. It is also a bridge to whatever comes next, a hopeful glance at the future.

On 'Dear', Pauwel expands his musical universe considerably, without losing his characteristic melancholy and distinctive voice. With the help of musicians Sander Smeets, Koen De Gendt and David Broeders - his new backing band - the rough folk diamonds were polished into mature songs. The stunning voice of Catherine Smet (aka Bluai) serves as a comforting echo on a handful of songs.
"Dear" was recorded at three different locations by producer Bert Vliegen (Whispering Sons, Sophia). The opening track "Murderer" and the haunting "Bones" were created in a hut in Walcourt. The bulk of the record was recorded during an intense week at the GAM Studio in Waimes. While the TV news showed apocalyptic images of the floods in the province of Liège around the clock, Pauwel and his band finished the songs. Rich, spacy arrangements ("Lazy"), rambling country-rockers ("Deer" & "Sister") or a tearful one-taker on Fender Rhodes ("Mother"): during this session "Dear" finally came together.

Kadi Yombo, published in 1989, is the most successful album in the quest for a fusion between tradition and modernity in Bwiti harp music of the Tsogho people of Gabon. Combining beating rattles with a layer of synthesizers, Papé Nziengui blends in a contrapuntal dialogue characteristic of harp playing: male song in appeal and female choir in response, male voice of the musical arc and rhythms of female worship. But above all it’s Tsogho ritual music and modern studio orchestration. The result is an initiatory itinerary of 10 musical pieces which are all milestones likely to be simultaneously listened to, danced, meditated on, and soon acclaimed. In the years since, Nziengui has traveled he world from Lagos to Paris, from Tokyo to Cordoba, from Brussels to Mexico City to become a true icon, the emblem of Gabonese music.

Like Bob Dylan, "electrifying" folk and Bob Marley mixing rock with reggae, some purists have criticized Nziengui for having distorted the music of harp by imposing a cross with modern instruments. They even went so far as to claim that Nziengui was just an average harpist covering his shortcomings with stunts that were only good for impressing neophytes; like playing a harp placed upside down behind his back or playing two or three harps simultaneously. Sincere convictions or venomous defamations, in any case, Nziengui never gave in to such attacks, imposing himself on the contrary to pay homage to the elders (Yves Mouenga, Jean Honoré Miabé, Vickoss Ekondo) while instructing the maximum of young people. He is thus the promoter of many young talents, the most prominent of which is certainly his nephew Jean Pierre Mingongué. In a conservative society where the sacred is confused with secrecy, exposing the mysteries of Bwiti in broad daylight can be punished by exclusion or even execution.

Papé Nziengui has always claimed that he faces such risks because he never felt enslaved to a community that governs his life, that regulates his conduct, that has a right of censorship over his activities. Like Ravi Shankar, the famous sitarist, Papé Nziengui is a man of rupture but also of openness, a transmitter of culture. As proof, he has established himself in Libreville, Gabo’s capital, as the main harpist for sessions and concerts, accompanying the greatest national artists (Akendengué, Rompavè, Annie-Flore Batchiellilys, Les Champs sur la Lowé, etc.) as well as foreign artists (Papa Wemba, Manu Dibango, Kassav', Toups Bebey, etc.). In 1988, he was the first harpist to release an album in the form of a cassette produced by the French Cultural Center (Papé Nziengui, Chants et Musiques Tsogho). At the same time, he created his own group (Bovenga), combining traditional music instruments (musical bow, drums, various percussion instruments, etc.) in the framework of a true national orchestra, which gave the first concert and the first tours of a traditional music that was both modern and dynamic, thus "democratizing" the harp, to the dismay of certain purists.

On the other hand, in modern music, dominated by the logic of profit or even commercialism, artistic creation must often be adjusted for a specific audience based on reason rather than heart. But instead of allowing himself to be distorted, Papé Nziengui has always tried to produce music that is not a caricature, worthy in its expression as in its content, of the sacredness and transcendence of the music of the Origins. This is what makes Nziengui not only the musician, but the man someone whose age hasn’t altered any of his freshness or authenticity

Kadi Yombo, published in 1989, is the most successful album in the quest for a fusion between tradition and modernity in Bwiti harp music of the Tsogho people of Gabon. Combining beating rattles with a layer of synthesizers, Papé Nziengui blends in a contrapuntal dialogue characteristic of harp playing: male song in appeal and female choir in response, male voice of the musical arc and rhythms of female worship. But above all it’s Tsogho ritual music and modern studio orchestration. The result is an initiatory itinerary of 10 musical pieces which are all milestones likely to be simultaneously listened to, danced, meditated on, and soon acclaimed. In the years since, Nziengui has traveled he world from Lagos to Paris, from Tokyo to Cordoba, from Brussels to Mexico City to become a true icon, the emblem of Gabonese music.

Like Bob Dylan, "electrifying" folk and Bob Marley mixing rock with reggae, some purists have criticized Nziengui for having distorted the music of harp by imposing a cross with modern instruments. They even went so far as to claim that Nziengui was just an average harpist covering his shortcomings with stunts that were only good for impressing neophytes; like playing a harp placed upside down behind his back or playing two or three harps simultaneously. Sincere convictions or venomous defamations, in any case, Nziengui never gave in to such attacks, imposing himself on the contrary to pay homage to the elders (Yves Mouenga, Jean Honoré Miabé, Vickoss Ekondo) while instructing the maximum of young people. He is thus the promoter of many young talents, the most prominent of which is certainly his nephew Jean Pierre Mingongué. In a conservative society where the sacred is confused with secrecy, exposing the mysteries of Bwiti in broad daylight can be punished by exclusion or even execution.

Papé Nziengui has always claimed that he faces such risks because he never felt enslaved to a community that governs his life, that regulates his conduct, that has a right of censorship over his activities. Like Ravi Shankar, the famous sitarist, Papé Nziengui is a man of rupture but also of openness, a transmitter of culture. As proof, he has established himself in Libreville, Gabo’s capital, as the main harpist for sessions and concerts, accompanying the greatest national artists (Akendengué, Rompavè, Annie-Flore Batchiellilys, Les Champs sur la Lowé, etc.) as well as foreign artists (Papa Wemba, Manu Dibango, Kassav', Toups Bebey, etc.). In 1988, he was the first harpist to release an album in the form of a cassette produced by the French Cultural Center (Papé Nziengui, Chants et Musiques Tsogho). At the same time, he created his own group (Bovenga), combining traditional music instruments (musical bow, drums, various percussion instruments, etc.) in the framework of a true national orchestra, which gave the first concert and the first tours of a traditional music that was both modern and dynamic, thus "democratizing" the harp, to the dismay of certain purists.

On the other hand, in modern music, dominated by the logic of profit or even commercialism, artistic creation must often be adjusted for a specific audience based on reason rather than heart. But instead of allowing himself to be distorted, Papé Nziengui has always tried to produce music that is not a caricature, worthy in its expression as in its content, of the sacredness and transcendence of the music of the Origins. This is what makes Nziengui not only the musician, but the man someone whose age hasn’t altered any of his freshness or authenticity

Sic transit gloria mundi! Roy Bianco & Die Abbrunzati Boys, die Halbgötter des Italo-Schlagers, nehmen den Ariadnefaden beherzt in die Hände und ziehen als gemachte Vielzahl von Theseus aus der Mitte des Labyrinths. 2020 is over if you want it. Und schon bot 2021 der Gruppe ein neues Reich der Ideen. Man schöpfte tief aus den Quellen der Inspiration über das heilige Land Italien und schließlich gab es neue große Werke des Italo-Schlager-Pops. Denn auserzählt ist diese Erfolgsgeschichte zwischen Kunst, Konsum und Kritik noch lange nicht. Von Roberto zu Roy, von „Greatest Hits“ zu neuen Titeln, heißt das neue Album fast schon folgerichtig „Mille Grazie“. Denn zum 40-jährigen (gegründet wurde die Gruppe schließlich 1982)
Bandjubiläum im Jahr 2022 muss man nach so einer bewegten Zeit auch einmal ganz bescheiden hinter den Mythos treten. Sich selbstverständlich mit dem nötigen Augenzwinkern, bei der großen Mutter Musik, bei den Fans und schließlich auch bei sich selbst bedanken.

Mitch Stahlmann's solo debut release Into The Wish is a kaleidoscopic adventure in sound. Resulting from the Oakland-based musician's personal practice of experimenting with ways to process and reintroduce the flute, the music on this record draws inspiration from the instrument's everlasting breath. Paying respect to its archaic history as well as leaving room for more strange, clownish impersonations, Into The Wish is a varied collection of flute-inspired pieces. The album traverses seamlessly between what sounds like ancient, sacred incantations and more playful, chaotic collage pieces where the flute is processed, reprocessed and performed using samplers.

Each piece offers a glimpse into a whole world that could be explored in depth, but Stahlmann's curiosity is ceaseless. The opening “Petrified Cloud” is a gentle piece, a velvety, digital introduction, whereas “Moon Arch” follows with more mystery and tropical drama. “Flat Earth” offers sonic depth and channels Hassell's fourth world music ideas into immersive, winding flute passages. “Paris 2107”, “Mega Mart” or “Real Life Drama”, on the other hand, move largely beyond the sound of the flute, burying it in layers of digital processing and (re)sampling. While extremely diverse, Stahlmann's Into The Wish is a fascinating, colourful exploration of his instrument.

Kadi Yombo, published in 1989, is the most successful album in the quest for a fusion between tradition and modernity in Bwiti harp music of the Tsogho people of Gabon. Combining beating rattles with a layer of synthesizers, Papé Nziengui blends in a contrapuntal dialogue characteristic of harp playing: male song in appeal and female choir in response, male voice of the musical arc and rhythms of female worship. But above all it’s Tsogho ritual music and modern studio orchestration. The result is an initiatory itinerary of 10 musical pieces which are all milestones likely to be simultaneously listened to, danced, meditated on, and soon acclaimed. In the years since, Nziengui has traveled he world from Lagos to Paris, from Tokyo to Cordoba, from Brussels to Mexico City to become a true icon, the emblem of Gabonese music.

Like Bob Dylan, "electrifying" folk and Bob Marley mixing rock with reggae, some purists have criticized Nziengui for having distorted the music of harp by imposing a cross with modern instruments. They even went so far as to claim that Nziengui was just an average harpist covering his shortcomings with stunts that were only good for impressing neophytes; like playing a harp placed upside down behind his back or playing two or three harps simultaneously. Sincere convictions or venomous defamations, in any case, Nziengui never gave in to such attacks, imposing himself on the contrary to pay homage to the elders (Yves Mouenga, Jean Honoré Miabé, Vickoss Ekondo) while instructing the maximum of young people. He is thus the promoter of many young talents, the most prominent of which is certainly his nephew Jean Pierre Mingongué. In a conservative society where the sacred is confused with secrecy, exposing the mysteries of Bwiti in broad daylight can be punished by exclusion or even execution.

Papé Nziengui has always claimed that he faces such risks because he never felt enslaved to a community that governs his life, that regulates his conduct, that has a right of censorship over his activities. Like Ravi Shankar, the famous sitarist, Papé Nziengui is a man of rupture but also of openness, a transmitter of culture. As proof, he has established himself in Libreville, Gabo’s capital, as the main harpist for sessions and concerts, accompanying the greatest national artists (Akendengué, Rompavè, Annie-Flore Batchiellilys, Les Champs sur la Lowé, etc.) as well as foreign artists (Papa Wemba, Manu Dibango, Kassav', Toups Bebey, etc.). In 1988, he was the first harpist to release an album in the form of a cassette produced by the French Cultural Center (Papé Nziengui, Chants et Musiques Tsogho). At the same time, he created his own group (Bovenga), combining traditional music instruments (musical bow, drums, various percussion instruments, etc.) in the framework of a true national orchestra, which gave the first concert and the first tours of a traditional music that was both modern and dynamic, thus "democratizing" the harp, to the dismay of certain purists.

On the other hand, in modern music, dominated by the logic of profit or even commercialism, artistic creation must often be adjusted for a specific audience based on reason rather than heart. But instead of allowing himself to be distorted, Papé Nziengui has always tried to produce music that is not a caricature, worthy in its expression as in its content, of the sacredness and transcendence of the music of the Origins. This is what makes Nziengui not only the musician, but the man someone whose age hasn’t altered any of his freshness or authenticity

Neue Farbauflage des begnadeten Horace Andy-Albums "Midnight Rocker" aus 2022 auf On-U Sound. Die streng limitierte Auflage wird hauptsächlich im Label-Webshop und in Japan angeboten, die Exemplare im europäischen Handel sind somit sehr begrenzt. Alle vorherigen Vinylauflagen sind ausverkauft.

‘Hive Mind Records are here to help you through the winter months with this generous helping of Wet Tuna with their signature deeply fried rural psychedelia.

Matt Valentine (MV) and Pat Gubler (PG Six) have been jamming together since the mid '90s, floating around in the US psych-folk scene, playing together in Tower Recordings and separately with influential underground crews Woods, The Golden Road, Garcia Peoples and The Weeping Bong Band. Both MV and PG Six have been prolific with their solo work and over the years they've recorded for labels such as Ecstatic Peace, Drag City, Woodsist, 3 Lobed, and Crash Symbols and we are very happy to be joining such esteemed company.

On these recordings, made during the first months of the COVID lockdowns in the forests of the Vermont wilderness, MV and PG Six handle the guitars and synths but they're joined by fellow forest freaks S. Freyer Esq, Jim Bliss, Coot Moon and Carson 'Smokehound' Arnold on bass and drums. Brought to you in their patented mind-expanding SPECTRASOUND, Eau'd To A Fake Bookie Volumes 1 & 2 delivers an irresistible gumbo of deep, cosmic psychedelia, primitive drum-machine grooves and woozy country-funk jams. These 6 songs are cover versions of artists as diverse as The Blackbyrds, Michael Hurley and Jimmy Cliff, but stretched out over 4 sides, the album is entirely Wet Tuna - loose, free-flowing and lots of fun!’

Interior sounds from Madalyn in an album that flits between eerie ambience, environment, and hermetic logic. The music’s timing and sequencing feels distant, the elegant constructions conjured and organised semi-consciously, drawing the listener deeper into the dream and towards a zone where watch hands tick forward accurately and their perception of time unspools. Here each neatly tuned conversation and clockwork assemblage harmonises, spinning tantalisingly just out of range and understanding.

“Puzzle Music is the desire to create images out of diverse pieces of sound. To collect timbral colours in a gradient procession and connect them until they create reason. Principally not knowing how the image will turn out, or what the picture even is. It is the act of placing sound shapes next to one another in the hope that clarity will gradually be revealed.

When grouping the songs together I was thinking of them as mechanisms in a timepiece. I have something of an obsession with Swiss watchmaking, although I think this stems from a desire for creative mastery and the design of an energy source independent of electronic needs. Hopefully the songs all serve a purpose towards the end goal of the album... but also, the way the Oberheim Xpander pans sounds is in a very clear circular pattern, which makes me think of gears turning.”

Planet Mu presents ‘ADDLE’ – Bogdan Raczynski’s first album of new music in 15 years. Marking a change from the high-octane jungle tekno braindance for which he is most commonly known, here we find the Polish American musician in a more melodic and zen-like place of peace, which is ergonomic and decluttered, whilst also bittersweet and tinged with melancholy. ‘ADDLE’ is closest in spirit to 2001’s tender ‘myloveilove’, or the light-hearted ditties of this year’s ‘BANANS’ EP, but is also a markedly new milestone. A robust and bottom-heavy rhythm section juxtaposes with sad electronic tear jerkers, at points laced with the soft cooing wail of his vocals, which are loaded with a haunting, heavy and almost wounded emotion. Bogdan comments “Calm is great. You need to take a breather in the eye of the storm now and then. But the real growth happens in turbulence, when your feelings oscillate in and out of sync. It’s not dry land you’re after. You’re trying to build a new island while on a piddly raft. Beleaguered and weary you lay the foundation with your bare hands while the rain lashes your back; a new place for you and yours to moor yourself to until the next storm hits. ‘ADDLE’ is about that storm, its adjacent periphery, and what you look like, in and out, when you set foot. As space and time push against you, that process of adapting becomes an anchor. Among that state of being addled, out of flow, seemingly untethered, there is beauty.”

Although less unhinged and riotous than some of his previous work, ‘ADDLE’ is no less impactful. Lean, punchy and purposeful, this seemingly simple combination of beats and melody belies a razor sharp skill, which bursts with verve and virtuosity. Across its eight unique and moving tracks the listener experiences tenderness, feelings somewhere between unease and comfort, and a sense of reflection, with Bogdan seemingly gazing at twinkling stars, but with his view distorted by welling-up. Sonically, spaces range from razor-sharp choppage, juddering heavyweight head-nodders, bit-crushed siren squall and something akin to Philip Glass’ ‘Candyman’ score played through a high-tech-fairy-tale music box. There’s also a warming, life-affirming moment as close to deep house as Bogdan will ever comfortably get, neck-snapping metallic percussion, Casiotone on steroids and reverberant warehouse throb. Booming drum machines are a prominent factor too – reminiscent of early hip hop instrumentals – but spirited off somewhere, lost in purgatory. Bogdan Raczynski (born 1977) is a Polish-American electronic musician. Raczynski’s work draws inspiration from the chaotic breakbeats of jungle and hardcore rave as well as traditional Polish music and other sources. He has collaborated with Bjork, remixed Autechre, CLPNG and Jonsi from Sigur Ross, and toured with Aphex Twin, who commented how “his records are so underrated.” Bogdan was also a roster mainstay of Richard James’s seminal Rephlex label, with additional releases on Warp, Ghostly, Disciples and Unknown to the Unknown. A keen proponent of tech, he created a sample pack using pollution and recently collaborated with Polyend on a custom made banana-themed tracker.

Always open to experimentation, Welsh imprint Haŵs welcomes Wyatt to the family. Comprising five evocative, glossy cuts, the ‘Netherwood’ EP is a time capsule back to his hometown, turning memories into alchemical moments experienced under a blazing sun or by the light of a full moon.

The opening ‘Sewell’ sails through a sensory voyage of stripped-back breakbeat, travel intercom samples and earworm melodies. ‘Netherwood’ snakes into a trippy pace, carving an indefinable sculpture of synth melodies nestled between weightless ambient.

On the B-side, ‘Mousehold’ launches into a peak-time club number, its initial drive of drums and bass tempered down by emotive accents that feel like a coy dance between yin and yang. ‘Tombland’ slinks into a shadow-cast realm of melancholy and introspection, joining the hands of broken beat and synth lines into a melodic collaboration drunk on its private thoughts. To close, ‘Heathgate’ retreats into a hopeful murmur, reflecting its quiet, percussive optimism back at itself through tear-stained melodies and a glassy bass.

Sometimes, existential introspection happens through external movement. ‘Netherwood’ is a catalyst for those epiphanies.