Suche:hiccup

The band has aimed to create music that balances the ethereal and the grounded. Featuring seven tracks, the album explores emotional and musical territories, with melodies and lyrics woven together like chapters in a story. Inspired by artists like Alvvays, Melody's Echo Chamber, Crumb and Radiohead, Gravity Racer blends modern and nostalgic sounds, inviting the listener to explore new sonic horizons.

The 10th Snaker is straight out of Bucharest, Rumania. Eirwud Mudwasser dreams about an imaginary tropical planet from his quiet place somewhere in between. Organic yet electronic past-futuristic soundscape created from daily ideas, in combination of FM synthesizers and African instruments (i.e. Balafon) and off course with interesting samples. 'Contemporary Library Sound' --an ongoing theme of Snaker -- is expressed again in 11 distinctive songs, treated with touch of East-Europianic feeling.

Will Hofbauer brings his unique, playful take on UK club music to Facta and K-LONE’s Wisdom Teeth imprint. Previously appearing on Rinse Recordings, Rhythm Section and his own label, Third Place, Will has already gained a cult reputation for producing tried-and-tested club weapons, with fans including Ben UFO, Moxie, Danielle and OK Williams. Arriving on Wisdom Teeth, he presents his most accomplished and complete work to date, spanning a variety of moods to suit a range of dancefloors. The EP opens with ‘Hiccups’ - a mischievous club heater that borrows from the gulliest ends of electro and UKG to forge a winking, gunfinger-inducing bassline banger. This one has been doing the rounds in select circles in recent months and has passed all checks and balances with flying colours. Next up, ‘Subtracting The Egg’ flips the script and strips things right back to to the bare essentials: a reduced beat and a warping sub-bassline - because what else is needed, really? On the flip, the title track provides the record’s most straight-up club moment: a 4x4 house smasher with a mammoth low-end that underpins a whirring cacophony of warping synths and dubbed-out drum fills. To close, ‘Crow’ drops the tempo back down to a low-slung, humid crawl.

Belgian talent Ilario Liburni looks to the release of his debut LP, 'Travel So Far', forthcoming on his own label, Invade Records. The eight track affair comes on a double vinyl pack as well as digital form which will follow a month later and proves the man behind it to be a superb producer with plenty to say.

Combining elements of house, minimal and intricate sound design, Ilario also heads up the Cardinal label and first emerged back in 2011 on Monique Musique. Since then he has gone on to release on a number of respected imprints (including Riva Starr's Snatch! And Memoria Recordings), has had his tracks licensed to compilations including Noir's In the House album for Defected and has continued to make a big impression as a DJ around Europe.

The album kicks off with 'Travel So Far', a synthetic and stripped back groove with lots of squelchy sounds, scurrying synths and feathery percussive lines all working their way into your brain. 'Sudden' is another Ricardo Villalobos style track that is elongated, intricate and immersive as it unfolds on soft edged drums. Next up, 'Carrie' is a smooth, dubbed out affair that demonstrates plenty of restraint yet really locks you into its hypnotic groove as static hiss and crackles alongside distant synths colour the spaces left behind.

'Steampunked Sewing Machine' ups the ante a little with a hollowed out drum line rocking back and forth on its heels, and 'Can't Fool Data' starts all waify and minimalistic before getting pulled apart to the sound of whirring machines, and then it drops again; you can imagine dancefloors going wild to its hooky rhythms. 'Jenndrum' is all about the pinging drum kicks and globular toms that make for a peppery groove, 'Pherthothal' toys with a sense of abstract funk and closer 'Schwalbe' is a gloopy, gluey, druggy fusion of slurred synths, hiccupping drums and dark textures that make for involving listening.

This is a genuinely inventive album riddled with fascinating sounds,
a real attention to detail and plenty of otherworldly moods that really stick with you.

Corps Perdu emerges from Lamin Fofana’s ongoing practice of creating immersive and multisensory sound environments, informed and inspired by the historically rich texts of scholars and poets working in the tradition of Black Studies. The words of W.E.B. Du Bois, Sylvia Wynter, Dionne Brand, Fred Moten, Édouard Glissant, Suzanne Césaire and Aimé Césaire are transmuted and circulated as sound, offered to listeners through radio, live events, albums and installations. Fofana honours his sources with an audible historical awareness, yet his sounds always simultaneously open out into the turbulent uncertainties of the present.
The music we hear on the album Corps Perdu was previewed within a series of collective reading and listening sessions carried out in Paris, Barcelona, Tunis and New York City, where voices from the audience read aloud fragments from a body of texts Fofana had selected. The spontaneous unfolding of close reading and listening, mixed live by Fofana in these collective listening experiences, speaks to the open-ended quality of Corps Perdu. The album, now published, is but one iteration of this ongoing inquiry into the relationship between sound and text.
Corps Perdu presents an introspective journey with no return, and as such is full of omens of all kinds. Across ten tracks Lamin Fofana creates a sibling or companion to the transformation he initiated in his previous album Works in Metal, building a narrative that takes us into Krakatoa prior to its eruption, and lets us listen to Césaire’s ‘flying seed dreaming very loudly’. The album’s track titles and narrative arc hum in and out and alongside Césaire’s poetry, mainly Césaire’s 1950 collection Corps Perdu, in which the ten poems are accompanied by engravings by Picasso merging fragments of bodies and plants—a collaboration that emerged from their first encounter two years earlier, at the Communist-led World Congress of Intellectuals for Peace, in Wroclaw, Poland.
The music on Corps Perdu labours intuitive hand-held melodies through dense processing. There are many rhythms throughout, though these never surrender to the density of the dancefloor grooves we’ve heard Fofana craft on previous albums (think of the ‘Obscure Light’ pair from Works in Metal for example). Instead, Fofana gently releases the clenched hands Césaire’s Corps Perdu begins with: ‘Among me, from myself, to myself, outside any constellation, clenched in my hands only, the rare hiccup of an ultimate raving spasm, keep vibrating word’. The album carries through sound the scattering and liquid fragmentation that shape the desperate metamorphosis of a ‘lost body’.

20 Jahre nach ihrem selbstbetitelten Debütalbum bringen Glissandro 70 jetzt ihr nächstes Album raus. Es besteht aus Aufnahmen aus einem ganzen Jahrzehnt, die aufgegeben wurden, bei einem Festplattenunfall verloren gingen, in Form von rohen Stereomischungen wiedergefunden, mit der Zeit neu bewertet und schließlich restauriert/ergänzt/verbessert wurden und nun endlich das Licht der Welt erblicken.

A century-old grand piano, a secluded house surrounded by the greenery of Brittany, no internet connection, and a reel-to-reel recorder.L'Écho de Bretagne, the new EP by Niklas Paschburg, set for release from fall 2025 via Nettwerk Music Group, is a solo piano record as essential as it is intense. An album made of silences, space, slowness. A music that doesn't chase impact, but truth.

the album release is march 26th - 2026.

If his previous work, Mexican Alps (2025), marked the first time the German composer and producer created an ambient-electronic album without his instrument of choice, the piano, L'Écho de Bretagne emerges as a direct response to that absence. "It was exactly the lack of piano that brought about the need for this new record, which instead puts that instrument, so vital to me, at the very center, stripping everything else away," Niklas explains.

Born in 1994, Paschburg has shaped over the years a musical path deeply connected to travel, nature, and introspection. From his debutTuur Mang Welten(2016) toOceanic(2018),Svalbard(2020),Panta Rhei(2023), and the aforementionedMexican Alps— alongside soundtracks, remixes, and collaborations with artists like RY X, Hania Rani, Ásgeir, and Bryan Senti — his sound bridges neoclassical, electronic, ambient, and pop-driven composition.

WithL'Écho de Bretagne, the Hamburg-born, Berlin-based musician continues his exploration by seeking solitude in nature, much like he did onSvalbard, but this time with an even more radical choice: disconnecting completely from the internet, and switching off both computer and smartphone for a while, in order to fully immerse himself in his new music. "I rented an old cottage in Paimpol, Brittany, where I knew there was a grand piano," he recounts. "When I got there, I discovered that not only was the piano more than a hundred years old, but it was also of an unknown brand, never restored, and quite difficult to play. But that gave it a unique character, and I didn't give up. Sure, it was an instrument left to its own fate, I couldn't play anything too fast. But how fascinating was that? I'm convinced that setting limits, instead of giving yourself total freedom when composing, can become an extraordinary source of inspiration."

As for the decision to temporarily detach from a life that demands we stay constantly connected, Niklas describes it as both a creative and human experiment. "I had my laptop and phone with me, just in case, but I kept them turned off. That choice made me wantL'Écho de Bretagneto be a fully analog work, even in how it was recorded." A way of clearing the mind. "I don't think I've ever been as calm as I was during those days in Paimpol. Even though I was working on a very specific project and didn't have much time, that period was more relaxing than any vacation."

Not that it was free of hiccups. "I'd borrowed a reel-to-reel recorder small enough to travel with me, but after recording a session on the piano, I realized it wasn't working properly, the sound was distorted, full of crackles. I got worried, because I wasn't near any big city where I could find a technician. Luckily, I figured out the problem was the old tape reels I had brought along. That was the only time I had to go online, to order new ones. But it was just for a moment. I shut everything off again right after." At that point, Niklas was waiting for the new tapes to arrive. He found out, completely by chance, from a local UPS courier that they had been delivered to a nearby village. "Since my phone was off, I couldn't track the shipment. So one day I asked this delivery guy, who didn't know anything about it. But from that point on, we'd see each other daily and talk… That's what being disconnected also means: reconnecting with people around you, even strangers. It was thanks to that courier that I found out where the tapes had ended up. And he even helped me get them back, writing directions for me on a scrap of paper."

But there's another element that makes this new EP unique.L'Écho de Bretagnewas recorded entirely live; its tracks are all improvised, complete with their imperfections. This approach leads to a sound that is pure, profoundly organic, and deeply authentic, intentionally preserved to give the listener the feeling of a live performance happening in their own living room. The touch of fingers on the keys, the breath of the wood, the tension of the vibrating string, all become part of the music. There is no construction, only expression. "Even now, when I listen back to it, I feel that moment I gave myself to step away from everything: from reality, from words, from noise." The result is a collection of suspended melodies and atmospheres, reflecting a state of the soul. A refuge from the rush of time. A pause from the world.

Logical Absurd is very proud to present the 20th Anniversary of the album "She And Me Fall Together In Free Death" by Nurse With Wound. "She and Me Fall Together in Free Death" is probably the most approachable, largely "musical" album that NWW has released since Rock N' Roll Station. It's also one of his strangest concepts, a marriage of trance inducing Krautrock grooves with a traditional jazz standard and some jarringly atonal musique concrete. Side A is the 20- minute title track: a slow-motion jam reminiscent of of one of Can's sidelong tracks on Tago Mago or the more avant-garde grooves of Tony Conrad and Faust's Outside the Dream Syndicate.

The propulsive Jaki Liebezeit drumbeat is the foundation for a long jam session with what sounds like a dijderidoo and layers of guitar feedback. It's a massive, heavy sound, the kind that Julian Cope would devote a whole chapter to in his "Kratrocksampler". Side B is one long piece with three distinct movements. Beginning with those familiar, World Serpent-trademark windchimes, the listener is quickly ushered into Staple- ton's singing debut (!) in a rendition of the oft-covered traditional jazz ballad "Black is the Color of My True Love's Hair" This was a favorite of the recently deceased Nina Simone, and also of the avant-jazz screamer Patty Waters. Nurse With Wound's version is backed by cello drones, repetitive guitar strums and tambourine, sounding very much like The Velvet Un- derground's "Venus in Furs".

It's such a treat to hear Steven Stapleton's multitracked vocals cover this classic song, and this eerie version rates as one of my favorites. This song and the title track prove to the naysayers that Nurse With Wound is equally adept at rock n' roll songcraft as he is at demented sound collages. The creepy jazz cover seques into "Chicken Con- cret (For Missy E)", a truly warped tape-edit job that juxtaposes chicken squawks and sythesized birdcalls with random bleeps, speaker hiccups and gongs.

After 8 years, 2 albums on BureauB and different small releases RVDS comes back to his roots and releases these 3 Acid Bangers:“Too much Acid” which has 4 TB303 Basslines in one match, which can remind on some Emanuel Topp tracks, then there is the Acid Electro track “Schluckauf” (Hiccup) which expresses hiccups in sounds, the last track “Acid Busline 242” is very soulful and has recordings of the busline 242 in London.

If every significant artist has an underrated gem in its catalog, then Mirage is that album for Fleetwood Mac. An obvious return to relative simplicity after the dramatic tension of Rumours and experimental ambitions of Tusk, the 1982 album finds the band re-grouping after a brief hiatus and again climbing to the top of the charts. Extremely well-crafted, well-produced, and well-performed, the double-platinum effort distills the group’s hallmark strengths into a filler-free set that never runs short of addictive pop hooks or daft accents.

Sourced from the original analog master tapes, pressed at Fidelity Record Pressing in California, and housed in a Stoughton jacket, Mobile Fidelity’s numbered-edition 180g 45RPM 2LP set presents Mirage in reference sound for the first time. The efforts co-producers/engineers Ken Caillat and Richard Dashut went to capture the splintered albeit formidable band can be heard with stunning accuracy, range, depth, and detail.

Though Rumours understandably gets a permanent spot in the audiophile hall of fame, the smooth, clear, and dynamic sonics on Mirage confirm that the record that stood as Fleetwood Mac’s last effort for five years deserves a place in the same vaunted arena. The presence and imaging of Mick Fleetwood’s percussion alone on this reissue might have you wondering how this slice of soft-rock bliss has gone under-noticed for decades. Other prized aural aspects — separation, definition, impact, tonal balance — are also here in spades.

Like much surrounding Fleetwood Mac in the 1980s, arriving at Mirage was not easy. Caillat searched for studios located outside of Los Angeles on a mission to change up the vibe of the band’s prior recording sessions. Everyone settled on Le Chateau in France, where relations between some members remained icy — and cooperation with the producers strained. Battles with exhaustion, bitterness, and addiction further informed the proceedings at the 18th century complex in the French countryside, where even communal meals were allegedly eaten in silence.

Inevitably, the feelings that co-producer Lindsey Buckingham, Stevie Nicks, Christine McVie, and company harbored — as well as the situations in which they found themselves — drifted into the songwriting. In its rapid ascent to rock-star royalty status, Fleetwood Mac drifted apart, embarked on solo pursuits, and found it was lonely at the top. Emptiness, the illusion of dreams, the longing for love, the want to escape to bygone times of innocence and happiness: Such themes inform a majority of the narratives. Even if the lyrics regularly take a back seat to easygoing arrangements that allow Mirage to come on like a refreshing breeze on a sunny summer afternoon.

Home to three Top 25 singles in the U.S. and having occupied the pole position of the Top 200 album charts for five weeks, Mirage rightfully resonated with the mainstream and attracted listeners on both sides of the pond. And how, via a smart blend of sugary melodies, warm harmonies, interlaced notes, nimble rhythms, taut structures, and passionate vocals. Not to mention the presence of what arguably remains Nicks’ signature song, the biographical “Gypsy,” a meditation on the loss of her close friend Robin Anderson that teems with majesty, mystery, and mysticism — and which gets an assist from Buckingham’s shaded tack piano and richly strummed guitar chords.

Its ranking as an all-time classic aside, that No. 12 hit has plenty of company when it comes to brilliant pop turns on Mirage. On the subject of Nicks, the raspy singer gets a little bit country on “That’s Alright.” Its clip-clopping pace and two-stepping progression complement subtle vocal swells that emerge during the final verse of a tune that is ostensibly about leaving but still conveys forgiveness and grace. And what would a Fleetwood Mac record be without Nicks drawing on the tools of the supernatural — cards, dreams, wolves, and the like — on the twirling “Straight Back.”

Despite the potency of Nicks’ primary contributions, Mirage seemingly unfolds as a tight competition between Buckingham and McVie — and one that ultimately ends in a draw. Buckingham’s salvos include the contagious “Can’t Go Back,” a yearning to time-travel back to the past that’s complete with hall-of-mirrors backing vocals; “Oh Diane,” out-of- left-field ear candy sweetened with hiccupped vocals and salt-and-pepper-shaken grooves; the chiming “Eyes of the World”; and “Empire State,” a delightfully fluttering track whose high-range vocals, lap harp notes, and ringing xylophones hint at the galaxies of sound that would erupt on Tango in the Night.

Then there’s McVie. As elegant, understated, and coolheaded as she’s ever been on record, she pours her heart out on cuts that revolve around her inevitable split with Beach Boy Dennis Wilson. In the process, she punctuates Mirage with a characteristic not always associated with catchy pop music: emotional weight, and the sense of dreaded acceptance in the face of dreams deferred.

“I wish you were here/Holding me tight,” McVie sings over a delicate melody on the album-closing piano ballad “Wish You Were Here.” Though they hoped otherwise, for the members Fleetwood Mac, distance and separation were always close at hand. Believing otherwise, inviting nostalgia, and pretending everything was fine only amounts to a mirage.

2024 Repress

One of the coolest and obscurest releases from Detroit which never got an official release... Produced by Gerald Donald (Drexciya, Dopplereffekt, Heinrich Mueller, Japanese Telecom).

Past collaborators of Decosimo include indie/folk artists Jake Xerxes Fussell, Wye Oak, and Hiss Golden Messenger. Past collaborators of Schrey include experimental/sound artists Alvin Lucier, Gordon Mumma and Yasunao Tone. In April 2021, Joseph Decosimo, Luke Richardson, and Cleek Schrey three of the most compelling interpreters in the American traditional music scene gathered at a cabin in Tennessee to explore their collective repertoire of Old-time fiddle and banjo tunes, gleaned from visits with older players, field recordings, and vintage 78s. Working with fiddle, hardanger d’amore (a fiddle with sympathetic strings), banjos, and a 19th-century pump organ, the trio captured both the sonic details of their instruments and a generous musical interplay rooted in a dozen years of collaboration. Their debut album, Beehive Cathedral, presents resonant, thoughtful, and expansive explorations of Appalachian and American music. The results showcase deep Details study and enveloping, exhilarating performances. A rich vein of stories and relationships to people and places underpin Beehive Cathedral. Much of the album draws on Decosimo’s experiences learning the music of Tennessee’s Cumberland Plateau, where he grew up and worked as a folklorist. A key source of inspiration was fiddler Clyde Davenport (1921-2020), “Clyde was a social and musical trickster who knew hundreds of old tunes and had an uncanny ability to recall each piece in exquisite detail,” says Decosimo. “During my visits, he’d play breathtaking local pieces from his father Will, who was born in 1868. His father had learned some of them from a neighbor who was born in 1829.” "This record expresses some of what we hear in Southern traditional music: the ring of the strings, the buzz of the tunings, the hum of the organ,” explains Schrey. Spending time listening to old recordings and imagining how those sounds were made has made the trio keenly interested in the relationship between physical motion and sound in their source material. The result is a dense layering of sounds and interaction. Of this sonic interplay, Irish fiddle luminary Martin Hayes observes, “The sound of a beehive conveys the idea of a unified harmonious soundscape which is how this recording sounds. Beehive Cathedral is a sonic delight, a beautiful blend of Old-time soundscapes and more. This is a hypnotic recording that is grounded, subtle and refined

On her sophomore album "Germ in a Population of Buildings", upsammy moves through her surroundings with the curiosity of a place-bending landscape architect. The album is rooted in her interest for ambiguous environments in constant shift, and the feeling of discovering strange patterns in different ecosystems. Often, the Amsterdam-based artist finds herself zooming in and out beyond a place's most recognizable surface features to inhabit the microscopic and gigantic. Gathering field recordings and evocative environmental sounds, she shapes this source material into vibrating electro-acoustic rhythms and unstable, psychedelic textures. upsammy's debut album, 2020's critically-acclaimed "Zoom", was praised for its careful reimagining of IDM, evolving vignettes that nodded towards the dancefloor without being shackled to its rigid set of rules. On "Germ in a Population of Buildings" her process has evolved considerably; the skeletal trace of IDM is still present but it's been trapped in amber, allowing her unique sonic landscape to develop organically. 'Being is a Stone' is a proof of concept in many ways, layering upsammy's contorted voice in rickety patterns beneath a lattice of fragile rhythms and faintly melancholy synths. It's never immediately obvious where the sounds are coming from - a hiccuping beat might be glass cracking underfoot, and larger pulses could be wet concrete, rusted iron or bent plastic. As the sounds develop they morph into each other, demolishing what came before and building on top of the ornamental wreckage. On the dynamic 'Constructing', upsammy's sound design fluxes through hyperactive bass music structures, abstracting expectations at every turn. Often her sounds are whisper quiet, rattling and vibrating until heavier masonry drops and disrupts the structure. And when discernible rhythms subside into the background, like on the album's eerie title track, they become almost illusory, morphing between the real world and the electronic. upsammy's processed voice works like a bridge between these realms, snaking between stark, whimsical melodies on 'Patterning', arching from AutoTuned detachment into cooing, dreamy intimacy. By considering the harmonies between each location she's visited, upsammy has been able to build a unique topology that's an uncanny digital amalgam of her lived experience. It's a thoughtful alternative in an era more concerned with flatting the landscape than crumpling it and examining its peaks and troughs.

Legendary Swiss punk band from the late 70s - "You can't dispute Liliput's status as pioneers of feminist art-punk - Along with fellow travelers like the Slits and the Raincoats, this (mostly) female Swiss group took advantage of punk's anything-goes attitude and created jittery, spirited pop that was both in step with the times and completely singular. The early material is a riot of exuberant energy, taking stylistic cues from peers like Gang of Four and Wire-- propulsive bass, skittering pop rhythms, slashing guitars-- and adding distinctive overlapping vocal patterns, which are sung, shrieked, and hiccupped in three languages and made- up dadaistic slang. More than 20 years on, it still sounds fresh." - Lisa Gidley

Saint Abdullah & Eomac is a long distance, ongoing collaboration between New York based Iranian-Canadian brothers Mohammad and Mehdi Mehrabani (Saint Abdullah) and Ian McDonnell a.k.a. Eomac, based in Wicklow in Ireland. They tested the waters with their first album on Nicolas Jaar's Other People label last year, but 'Chasing Stateless' is their fullest expression so far.

The creative mindset behind the album starts with bravery and eschews escapism. Says Saint Abdullah's Mohammad, "As a collective, we exist to test the revolutionary possibilities within sound and sonic storytelling. As a means to finding a vision of the future and for building cultural dialogue today. Our belief is that the expressiveness of this vision should be pushed to its utmost limits to reveal anew. I always felt that the intensity of the middle eastern soul needs to be revealed more potently. Ian and the Irish have it too. I suspect most historically oppressed cultures do."

The music on 'Chasing Stateless' avoids easy middle eastern tropes — "I think what we're proposing here is that you don't need to water down our culture, you don't need to take only the bits that fit your idea of who we are, what we are. You ought to take it in its entirety."

Musically, the album approaches established genres and re-orientates them towards middle eastern rhythm and melody with an iron soul. Songs are rough and intense. Rusty polyrhythms, daf drums wrapped in a thick coating of distortion or punchy kicks with micro-edited samples of middle eastern life spiralling across them. Mournful melodies are squeezed out until the music teeters on the edge of rhythmic collapse. 'Chasing Stateless' is rough and energetic but also tender and reflective too. It's a human sound, utilising technology but not about technology. Sample heavy with expressions of anger, sadness and hope present and deeply felt.

The album's title speaks to a loss of collective societal imagination; of 'chasing status'. As Moh says "This generation, man, we're really good at putting up walls, despite all our openness. But where does this all lead to? What exactly are we chasing? This is where I especially love the name 'Chasing Stateless,' because if all this continues, we indeed will end up stateless, society-less, community-less, neighbor-less. Just a bunch of same-sies, living in an imaginary bubble, where we all look / think / say / CHASE the same things."

With Scream If You Don’t Exist, Richie Culver metamorphoses from outsider musician to underground fixture, feeling his way from the fringes towards a growing community of musicians that have gravitated towards his singular sound world. Building upon the stark catharsis of his previous dispatches, on his sophomore album the artist draws from grimdark drone, industrial noise, experimental hip-hop and UK rave to map out a space for himself, caught between genre and discipline. While on his debut, I Was Born By The Sea, Culver took a last glimpse back at his grey, salt-flecked past while struggling towards somewhere brighter, here, he documents the process of finding fresh waters, parsing through the complexity of inhabiting a more open and optimistic place while contending with the weight of his resolve, staring hard won self-acceptance in the face. The album’s title speaks to this creative and emotional work, serving both as the foundational paradox from which the artist’s new discordant sound emerges and as a call to action, a defiant cry in the face of existential angst.

Part of this process involves visiting familiar territory with renewed focus. Macabre opener ‘Hottest Day Of The Year’ signals an unpleasant memory with crow caw, queasy, gas leak ambience and dental drill whir as Culver recalls a life lived in nihilism: “Everything is just something that happened / Reductionism, muscles spasms, a mother’s first contraction.” Yet, on Scream If You Don’t Exist, Culver’s irresistible formula for ragged machine poetry is shot through with palpable urgency. No longer listless and despairing, he finds new intricacies for these compositions, tracing a stark interplay between crushing bass excavations and penetrating vocal clarity, a contrast picked out in the delicate threads of rhythmic pulse suggesting themselves in the blunt pressure and skittering creep of ‘Weakness’, on which Culver offers up vulnerability as a tentative solution to self-described emotional constipation: “Please do / Do take my kindness for weakness / For I am weak / And that is ok.” The amniotic soundscape of ‘YOLO (then u die)’ gives way to depth charge drone and unnerving machinic improvisations, like a noise show heard from deep in the Mariana trench, while on ‘Underground Flower’ the low-end fog lifts to reveal a brighter, colder scene. “Love me for who I could be / Not who I am,” he pleads, tending gently to his own tenacious bud.

Scream If You Don’t Exist gives us a glimpse of this flower in bloom. On the album’s cursed self-help tape title track stuttering loops of off-kilter keys and childlike repetition make light of the very real risk of disappearing all-together, a nervous breakdown rendered as a malfunctioning nursery rhyme. Paranoiac anthem ‘Say 4 Sure’ introduces bit-crushed boom-bap stomp, as though hammered out on a water-logged Game Boy, swarms of loose-wire noise sparking up against guttural grunts and ragged exhalations, while ‘On The Top’ enacts a seance for the hardcore spirit, with loops of rave piano and hiccuping vocal chops pirouetting through knackered samples, air raid sirens and the ghostly crash of breakbeat cymbals. As though in response to the solitary nature of much of his musical exploration, this time, the artist invites other voices into the world of Scream If You Don’t Exist. On ‘Swollen’, the unflinching, brimstone prophecy of Billy Woods sounds clear through an expanse of spirallic bass, preaching the same frayed gospel as Culver when he issues the quietly devastating contemporary diagnosis: “Computer broke but it still works for now / That’s the best you can say for most of us anyhow,” while another fearless correspondent from the fringes, Moor Mother, brings earthbound heft to the ambient drift and obliterating barrage of ‘Restaurants,’ teasing out meaning with elongated intonation and pitch-shifted intensity.

It’s during the album’s most meditative moments that we might recognise this space Culver has found for himself for what it really is. ‘OMG They’re Gone’ follows a chopped and slowed monologue from Culver’s wife, who works as a death doula, reflecting on her own experiences with grief and the reality of living within a culture both terrified and ignorant of the process. Floating over glistening ebb, etherised croons and luminous chimes, her words stand as a prescient reminder of the power of ephemerality. Just as Culver flourishes in imperfection, here we can find enormous strength in transcience. But it’s with ‘Just Jump In,’ which unfurls like a buoyant counterpart to the sparkling oil rigs of ‘I was born by the sea’, that Culver illuminates the hopeful waters we realise we’ve been making our steady way towards. “I know now / That you loved me,” he admits, a revelation a lifetime in the making. Through the rawest reflection Culver has found a way forward, driven by an optimism drawn from a resolve to be better, to love and be loved, an admission to weakness and the discovery of a new kind of strength. “Don’t test the water,” he reassures us and himself, “just jump in.”

Scream If You Don’t Exist will be released in November 2023 by Participant, on limited edition vinyl, and digital download . The release will be accompanied by a series of films directed by Mau Morgo, Josiane M.H Pozi, William Markarian-Martin, Simon Bus, and Bruxism.

How To Train Your Dragon 2 is the sequel to the massively successful 2010 animated feature film How To Train Your Dragon, and the second film in the trilogy by DreamWorks Animation. The story takes place five years after Hiccup and Toothless united the dragons and Vikings of Berk. While investigating a burnt forest, the pair discover a secret cave that houses hundreds of wild dragons and a mysterious Dragon Rider. The two find themselves at the center of a battle to protect the peace.

Composer John Powell, who earned his first Academy Award-nomination for his music in the original How To Train Your Dragon movie, returned to score the sequel. It was conducted by Gavin Greenaway and recorded at Abbey Road Studios in London with a 120-piece orchestra, a 100-voice choir, and a wide array of ethnic instruments, including Celtic harp, uilleann pipes, tin whistle, bodhrán, and bagpipes.

Sigur Rós-lead vocalist, Jónsi, who wrote and performed the song "Sticks and Stones" for the original movie, provided two new original songs for the sequel in collaboration with Powell. The track "Where No One Goes" that is featured on this release, is not only written, but also performed by Jónsi and Powell. Belarusian-Norwegian artist and Eurovision Song Contest winner Alexander Rybak, who voices Hiccup in Norwegian, also wrote and performs on the song "Into a Fantasy".

How To Train Your Dragon 2 is available as a limited edition of 750 individually numbered copies on flaming coloured vinyl and includes an insert.

Pink Blue Marbled Vinyl

Angelo is an EP, named after a car, featuring nine songs Brijean have crafted and carried with them through a period of profound change, loss, and relocation. It finds percussionist and singer Brijean Murphy and multi-instrumentalist/producer Doug Stuart processing the impossible the only way they know how: through rhythm and movement. The months surrounding the acclaimed release of Feelings, their full-length Ghostly International debut in 2021 which celebrated tender self-reflection and new possibilities, rang bittersweet with the absence of touring and the sudden passing of Murphy's father and both of Stuart's parents. In a haze of heartache, the duo left the Bay Area to be near family, resetting in four cities in under two years. Their to-go rig became their traveling studio and these tracks, along with Angelo, became their few constants. Whereas Feelings formed over collaborative jams with friends, Angelo's sessions presented Murphy and Stuart a chance to record at their most intimate, "to get us out of our grief and into our bodies," says Murphy. They explored new moods and styles, reaching for effervescent dance tempos and technicolor backdrops, vibrant hues in contrast to their more somber human experiences. Angelo beams with positivity and creative renewal _ a resourceful, collective answer to "what happens now?". Angelo the car is a 1981 Toyota Celica they got off Craigslist during their first stint in Los Angeles, where Murphy and Stuart have since settled. "Such a bro-y, `80s dude car, it's been super fun to drive around in a new town," Murphy says. "He's older than us, he's a classic, he's got a story." It is a spiritual vehicle with a cinematic appeal, first dropping them off in an alleyway for the scene-setting intro, "Which Way To The Club." The question is quickly resolved by "Take A Trip" as a cruising bassline mingles with crowd sounds, hand-claps, cuíca hiccups, whip-cracks, even a horse neigh. Brijean have found some club on this cross-dimensional trip - the kind of imagined space or chamber within one's self capable of "shifting a fraction of who you are," says Murphy. They wrote the track with the simple intention to be "as free as we could be," adds Stuart, likening the flip on the B section to a realm unlocked: "What if the world changed completely? You open the door to a new room." Next is "Shy Guy," a motivational anthem for the wallflowers among us. Murphy sets up the daydream: "We are in junior high, we're on the dance floor, what's going down, who is dancing, who is not, how are we gonna make them dance?" The narrator, the MC, hypes up the room as conga-driven rhythms bounce between languid synth and guitar lines. "Show me how to move...I feel something...I know you feel it too," Murphy sings sweetly, calling back to the opening lines of Feelings, and this time the audience chants it back. It is easy to picture Brijean performing this one - something they only got to do a handful of times until more recently, opening shows for Khruangbin and Washed Out, an experience they found informative. Murphy explains, "It was inspiring to be out there and let loose more. To see how people can expand their expression on stage gave me more liberty with how I viewed my musicianship. My role for so long was to be a backup percussionist, so why would I ever leave the drums, you know? But then after playing all these runs, you see these artists and realize you can, you have permission." "Angelo" and "Ooo La La" deliver the danciest stretch in Brijean's catalog to date. The title track adopts a deep house pulse replete with strings, hi-hats, and kicks. The latter opts for a funkier groove that foregoes verses in favor of warbled hums and extended breakdowns. What follows is perhaps the duo's dreamiest run, a comedown initiated with the honey-hued interlude "Colors" drifting into "Where Do We Go?", a tropicália reverie where Murphy contemplates the passage of time and space. It all culminates in "Caldwell's Way," a fond farewell to their Bay Area community - "a part of my life that I knew couldn't come back," says Murphy. Above shimmering organ sounds, lush strings, and the birdcall of their former neighborhood, she wistfully articulates the uncertainty of moving on by remembering the characters dear to them. There's the wisdom of their neighbor, Santos, who refused payment when helping them move out: "I'd rather have 100 friends than 100 dollars." And the song's namesake, Benjamin Caldwell Brown, a friend and club night cohort for many years. "I'm only miles away, maybe I'm just feeling lonely," the line resigns to warm nostalgia, and "Nostalgia" runs the closing credits to this healing and transportive collection.

How To Train Your Dragon 3: The Hidden World is the 2019 American computer-animated action fantasy film based on the eponymous book series by Cressida Cowell. It’s the third and final chapter of the trilogy. The story is written and directed by Dean DeBlois and stars the voices of Jay Baruchel, America Ferrera, Cate Blanchett, Craig Ferguson and F. Murray Abraham. The plot follows Hiccup who discovers Toothless isn’t the only Night Fury and how he must seek ‘The Hidden World’, a secret Dragon Utopia, before a hired tyrant named Grimmel finds it first.

The trilogy received acclaim from critics for its animation, voice acting and musical score. This third installment grossed over 525 million dollar worldwide, becoming the fifth highest grossing animated film of 2019. It was even nominated for Best Animated Feature at the 92nd Academy Awards.

The score was conducted by John Powell, who is best known for his work on Happy Feet (2006), Ferdinand and Solo: A Star Wars Story. He was nominated for an Academy Award for How to Train Your Dragon (2010). Powell has worked closely with Hans Zimmer and was a member of his music studio.

How To Train Your Dragon 3: The Hidden World features the track “Together from Afar” by Jónsi (Sigur Rós) and the bonus track “The Hidden World”. This 2LP is housed in a gatefold sleeve and is available as a limited edition of 500 individually numbered copies on solid blue (LP 1) and solid red (LP 2) coloured vinyl. The package contains a 4-page booklet and an exclusive postcard.

Something special from Studio Barnhus: Acapella versions of every! single! track! from Off The Meds’ self-titled debut album released in late 2020. The Swedish-South
African super group’s front man and vocalist Kamohelo Khoaripe standing alone in the spotlight this time, his unique Zulu-Tsotsitaal-English flow lovingly recorded and processed by the Off The Meds production team. Each track comes with a short/sweet musical introduction, fully optimised for the modern professional discjockey. Out now as a super limited hand-stamped 12'' vinyl .

Off The Meds is a Swedish-South African crew based in Stockholm, consisting of producers Adrian Lux, Carli Lo¨f and Ma°ns Glaeser with vocalist Kamohelo Khoaripe.
The band first appeared on Studio Barnhus with the Ethio-jazz sampling hip-house gem Currency Low, one of the standouts on the Stockholm label's 2018 compilation Studio Barnhus Volym 1. This was followed by 2019's ravey smash single Belter, which came paired with a much-lauded remix by London top selector Joy Orbison.
Their self-titled debut album arrives on Studio Barnhus in late 2020. First album single Karlaplan was recently played by Four Tet on Benji B's show on BBC Radio 1, while second single Wena got included in hotly tipped UK garage reformist Conducta's recent Resident Advisor podcast.

The first release on yeyeh is a compilation of tracks by Dutch poet Simon Vinkenoog, a former poet laureate, and renomated one-man band Spinvis. More than ten years after the birth of this album, it has been pressed on vinyl for the very first time. A journey. A journey through sound. A journey of eighty-one years. Simon Vinkenoog's sound. Simon sings, speaks, yells, hiccups, and cries. As a poet. As a witness, passer-by, survivor, instigator, benefactor and chronicler of the remarkable twists of his own lifetime. A collage of music, sound and poetry, compiled with several hours of archived material. Carefully edited and soundtracked by Spinvis.

DJ Katapila's Aroo EP is the latest addition to the iconoclastic producer's catalog of fast-paced, pan-West African-influenced dance music. From a young age, Ishmael Abbey was a beloved local DJ in Accra, Ghana's competitive and rapidly-evolving music galaxy. DJ Katapila's debut release with Awesome Tapes From Africa, 2016's reissue of Trotro, ignited international acclaim for the Ghanaian DJ and producer: The New York Times, Pitchfork, Resident Advisor and FACT heaped praise on his work. Katapila launched a touring career beyond his grueling schedule of all-night parties around Ghana's southern coast and neighboring countries, heading to Europe and the UK, where he performed at festivals and clubs the pasty two years. Katapila brought Ghana's street party culture to audiences overseas, a wave of joy and happy dancers were left in his wake. The song Aroo' uses his earlier song Cocoawra' as a jumping off point and expands upon its endearing quick-rhythmed interplay of vocal hiccups and percussive clinks. Katapila thinks of Aroo' as a simple math equation: Francophone rhythms plus techno equals so hot and danceable.' While traveling this past summer in Europe, he continued to work on the minimalist electronic music steeped in his hometown rhythms that has made him a growing and singular voice in West African music. Having never travelled outside his region before, the contemporary sounds of London impacted his sonic palette, triggering new song African Techno.' He explains, In Europe and the UK they like these techno songs and house music. They have songs that sound like African music, and we have songs that sound like house music and techno music.' Ghana Baby DJ' references his ongoing development of Ga dance music style gbe ohe. It also conjures his daughter's voice and inimitable vibe and blends it with the characteristic clave rhythm of this. The EP's final cut is a track released with a an eye-catching music video this summer called "Monkey." Following radio play in Ghana and demand from fans online, this track makes its debut on vinyl. Awesome Tapes From Africa is proud to present new music from this unmistakably original artist with an honesty and unpretentiousness that feels good at this current point in history.

Typically outstanding, cultured, listenable techno by the co-founder of this excellent Finnish label, adroitly traversing dub and ambient. Nothing lunky or domineering, dystopian or Gothic, this debut LP generates senses of immediate, natural being out of field recordings (Waiting Halls, Winners, Temple) and the foibles and hiccups of the music-making process itself (New to the System, Sloth, A Small Flood).

Walton returns with a strictly-limited EP to precede the release of his debut album 'Beyond'. This is a vinyl-only, once it's gone it's gone kind of release, just 300 copies available. 'Baby' is a brilliant and extreme mutation based around an R&B accapella, one that seems energised by R&B's avant-garde but danceable late '90s period. A hiccuping giggle over stuttering rusty engine stabs, and a so-stiff-it's-funky kick and and snare combination, make this a track that works brilliantly on the dance floor by sheer force of ideas and wildness. 'Can't You See's' widescreen ambience is held together by epic swelling chords, punctuated with rolling 8-bit spirals, trap-like bass, and snares. It's held together so tightly, it feels like it's going to 'drop' at any time, but prefers to just tease the listener in a state of excited suspense. Also included is an instrumental version of 'Baby'.