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The unconscious element to the conscious process.

The practice of dub techno and its tendrils is a fundamental for me, both aesthetically and from an engineering perspective.

I start every recording session with a dub inspired jam, the first piece I ever recorded in 1996 was an effort to recreate Phylyps Trak with only a Korg X3 and an Ibanez PUE5 (borrowed from Gary Howell). It was an awesome introduction to jamming, and the footing stones of noise, delay and saturation were explored with my foot hard on the enthusiasm pedal.

These practice jams are in some sense cathartic, the first step taken again & again, which helps me move forwards each session and additionally helps to 'warm the circuits' both of myself and the machines.

After realising the genius of Basic Channel is akin to the genius of peasant food, using every ingredient with nothing left to waste, (up to and including the oft maligned working noise of the machines themselves), this was a watershed moment for my own subjective progression. No longer tied to just emulation of something inspiring, but taking these learned tools into other areas of music helped to break free from a strong current of influence and also to progress into other areas with the new toolbox.

Dub:

The importance of the dub pioneers should never be understated, in modern music and my own practice. Yet with my initial inspiration being two german dudes issuing extreme techno variants with obscured label designs, who then signposted their listeners to their own inspirations (via their Wackies re-issues or nodded to on their Rhythm & Sound/Burial Mix sub-labels), meant that I started late and travelled backwards.

Learning to notice the live mixing of Mikey Dread or Lee Perry when the faders are bleeding through even when turned down, (echoed in BC's Quadrant Dub), or the brash send effects literally thrown into the mix also taught me that 'rough' mixing can inject a recording with life, uniqueness and the most right wrongness. Looking back Basic Channels very few elements helped me realise that the rules to be understood, are also the best ones to be broken.

Push the mixer into the red.

Amp that noise up from the tape delay cos it sounds sick.

Pseudo side-chain effects cos the kicks are way too loud and the mixer can't sum it nicely.

Spam the send knob into the delay units now, now and now.

Carelessness.

Noise:

Once I wrapped my head around the intrinsic 'noise' element that set those records apart, this became a torchlight into the alt noise movements which I was tentatively exploring at the time, and also is evidently a connection or thread into them.

Whether the Industrial/Post Punk UK scene (This Heat, TG, A Tent, F.E.) or the prolific output of the US Noise scene (Wolf Eyes, Live & Shave in LA, and subsequently following the lineage all the way back to Chrome's Alien Soundtracks), I had finally discovered a connection from techno to this 'free for all' corner of music.

This input from the Noise arena of sound is, in my experience, an all important step for a sonic artist, taking it's roots and extending out from Stockhausen/Pierre Henry and utilised/warped/mangled by thousands of adventurous pioneers ever since, I now see the line separating the high brow and the low brow is actually an artery carrying information from the head to the heart.

Vault is a selection of these jams that precede each of my solo recording sessions, for 30 years I've recorded hundreds of these 'workouts'. They are never intended as serious statements, just moments of naive enjoyment, yet most importantly they are time & space captured as practice.

The objective is always a warm up exercise, but sometimes those exercises turn a different corner, with a certain focus or direction dependent on what random samples are left in my machines from the previous session, instead of conscious choices, these unconscious elements can facilitate those 'positive mistakes' that make a piece of sound retain a different feel or colour and thus become special, or at least special to the creator.

I am quite conscious that the 'record everything' aspect of my ethos has been invaluable in cataloguing and saving these jams, while the attitude of carelessness during this process (after all, it's only a warm up jam) invites more enjoyment than seriousness ever could. Even if you don't feel the piece at the time, record it, because some years later it may well fit, or become relevant in a way you never intended.

-Miles

Hailing from the West side of St. Louis, Missouri, Mikahl Anthony’s sonic roots spread far across the global Alt-Soul / Hip-Hop scene. A highly soughtafter multidisciplinary artist (who has collaborated with the likes of Mick Jenkins, Chance The Rapper, Joey Purp, Smino and more), as well as being a founding member of Chicago’s THEMpeople collective, he now prepares to unveil his masterful full-length debut Muse via R&S Records.

Accompanied by several beautiful, self-directed film pieces, Muse is a record with storytelling at its core. Interspersed with commentary from a range of sources telling their stories to Mikhal, whilst collaboratively analysing their personal experiences, it speaks a candid and honest narrative, which reinforce the heartfelt lyrics within. With the project’s name anchored around a dual meaning acronym (1. Ms. Using sensual energy and 2. Making use of seclusion every day). The record is an audio version of docufilm, that creatively interprets the idea of self-therapy, an internal/interpersonal reflection of life experiences that serendipitously connect to Mikahl’s personal romantic relationships. Mikahl explains: ‘I wanted to use a unique style of songwriting, arrangement and filming with the intention of soundtracking my self-development/maturation process’.

On the project’s lasting impression on the listener, Mikahl elaborates ’The exploration of inner truth and vulnerability is key to the future of good music. I want this project to act as symbolism that highlights the mantra that honest approaches and authenticity still has the most value. I also want people to see how important the use of community is when you can connect them to your subject matter...I'd like my audience to observe and engage in their own self-reflections, approaches by way of listening or interacting with the story.’

Drifting to an elevated state of consciousness, Muse is a deeply intoxicating and engrossing listening experience from front to back. From the sliding, kaleidoscopic shadows of opening track ‘La Flare’, via the trepidation-laced atmosphere of ‘Polyamorous’ and the hazy, reverb drenched saxophone notes of LP closer ‘Eddie Kane’ - Mikahl channels moments of joy and pain, infused with spirit enriching instrumentation and gritty textures.

Visual stimuli play an integral role within Mikahl’s music. His songs represent transparency and openness dipped in funk. Layers of soft velvety vocals emerge from jazz harmonies, trap rhythms, and social commentary sourced from voiceovers/excerpts. His creations are the musical representation of documentary films. His art is imagery embodied.

Pressure is the medium of wind players. Wind instruments all sound thanks to pressure differentials, whether that’s the rush of wind over a lip plate or a steady, buzzing exhalation through pursed lips. Ka Baird and Chris Ryan Williams (HxH) are wind players well- schooled in the power of using pressure and movement to amplify the mystery of an invisible force animating a metal tube. They augment their instruments, flute and trumpet respectively, with electronics, sometimes obscuring the acoustic sound source, sometimes making it hyperreal. Flutters of lip and tongue slither over the listener’s ear, and sustained tones become a dense fog, pushing on other kinds of visceral, emotional pressure points.

On Enthalpy, Baird and Williams’ first album as a duo, the energy they conjure feels barely contained, the pressure built up to a breaking point before spilling out in multiple directions at various speeds. They borrow the title from thermodynamics, referring to the total energy of a system based on its pressure and volume. The music flies out in bursts; it seeps and oozes, flows with intention. It is an incredibly rhythmic work without any hint of meter, full of sounds that punctuate with the thud of a dart hitting a bullseye. Williams’ capability to conjure swirling atmospherics, as well as his remarkable ability to pull fragments of melody from the haze, fit puzzle-like into Baird’s exclamations and the eruption of electronics that often dovetail them. The duo draws on tones from nearly the entire range of human hearing, from nimble but bulbous throbs of sub-bass to pinprick flickers of ultra-high end.

The sessions that produced Enthalpy were completely improvised, showcasing a degree of mind-meld that belies each participant’s thrill at approaching the unknown. This isn’t a casual conversation, but an omnidirectional tangle that ties and reties itself into new knots as the album progresses. Williams and Baird have both become ubiquitous presences throughout the New York City experimental music communities, collaborating with innumerable others and learning how their unique approaches work in tandem with similarly expansive thinkers and players. Even in the album’s most spacious moments, there’s a tension between the feeling of being unmoored and yet completely locked in, like the abyss is just one more river to cross. They ford it together before moving on to the next idea in lock step.

For the listener, Enthalpy is often felt in the body as much as it reverberates within the ears. We’re tossed from side to side, made to shoulder the impact of detonating electronics, absorbing these sounds with the feet, gut, and crown. Baird reaches into the back of their throat for guttural growls, and we can almost feel the scratch. As we tread the border of the synthesthetic, it's a reminder of the physical nature of sound, that the space between our ears and the speakers is its own enthalpic system of energy conduction. Move with it, let it move you, and see how it feels.

,Dead Meat" ist das Debütalbum der Londoner Band The Tubs, gegründet von den ehemaligen Joanna Gruesome-Mitgliedern Owen Williams und George Nicholls. Musikalisch verbindet die Band Jangle Pop, Post-Punk und britischen Folk-Rock zu einem eigenständigen Sound, der ebenso von Fairport Convention, Richard Thompson und der Canterbury-Folk-Szene geprägt ist wie von modernen Indie-Bands wie The Goon Sax oder Twerps. Charakteristisch sind die hell klingenden, treibenden Gitarren, eingängige Pop-Hooks und die Verbindung von traditioneller britischer Folk-Melodik mit der Energie des Indie-Rock. Über diesen Klangteppich legt Owen Williams seine scharf beobachteten, oft melancholischen Texte, die zwischen Selbstironie, Enttäuschung und emotionaler Verletzlichkeit pendeln. Mit Songs wie ,Round The Bend", ,Duped" und ,I Don't Know How It Works" gelingt The Tubs eine faszinierende Mischung aus Folk-Rock, Jangle-Pop und Post-Punk, die gleichermaßen zeitlos und modern wirkt und ,Dead Meat" zu einem der bemerkenswertesten Gitarrenalben seines Jahrgangs macht.

The Version of Me You Get is a record about perspective, how life changes you, and who you are on the other side of it. Written and recorded in 2020 alongside longtime collaborator Sean McConnell, the album was born out of a rare stillness - a week spent holed up in the studio, building songs piece by piece with no outside noise and no deadline. Bowen had never had that kind of time with a record before. The result was something unhurried, deeply considered and wholly their own. Then life picked back up, and the album sat. Five years later, Bowen returned to the recordings and found something he didn't expect: the songs had grown. What was captured in 2020 as honest and uncertain had become something richer — shaped by everything that followed, personally and professionally. The distance didn't diminish the record. It deepened it. Spanning love, struggle, redemption, and vulnerability, The Version of Me You Get didn't just capture a moment in time, it gained meaning because of what came after. These songs finally found their moment. And it turns out, the wait made them better.

»Pipe Dreams II & III« presents two new, side-long organ works by Mary Jane Leach, extending the sonic investigations of her 1989 landmark »Pipe Dreams«. Recorded in Ghent and Cologne, the two side-long pieces use shifting stops, resonance and beating tones to turn the pipe organ into a vivid, physical field of sound.

When »Pipe Dreams« was issued on vinyl for the first time by Blume in 2017, it was effectively the first time many of us encountered Mary Jane Leach’s music, finally placing her work in its proper historical context amid the searching Downtown milieu of Julius Eastman, Arthur Russell, Arnold Dreyblatt, Ellen Fullman, Philip Corner, Daniel Goode, and Peter Zummo. Leach collaborated with most of these artists at one point or another, either in Downtown Ensemble or as a guest on their records.

Now »Pipe Dreams II« and »Pipe Dreams III« arrive, recorded in 2023 and 2024 at Miry Concertzaal in Ghent, Belgium, and Kunst-Station Sankt Peter in Cologne, respectively.

»When I was a young child, my family lived next door to a church, where my mother was the organist. I spent many hours lying on the floor of the sanctuary listening to the music, letting the sound of the organ envelop me. I also liked to play the piano loudly with the pedal down, producing clouds of sound, much to my family’s annoyance. These two organ pieces explore some of my earliest musical interests and aesthetics.

In 1989, I lived in a tower attached to St Peter’s Church in Cologne, where I had access to its organ. It had two sets of pipes, front and back, which could create antiphonal effects. I spent countless hours exploring the possibilities of all the permutations of notes, space, and the resulting sound phenomena. I wrote »Pipe Dreams« for that organ. Fast forward to 2023, when I was asked to create a piece for organ for a concert at the Miry Concertzaal in Ghent, Belgium: »Pipe Dreams II«. I had a few days to familiarise myself with the organ, its available stops, and the layout of the console. I choreographed stop changes for a volunteer, as I couldn’t reach them myself. Some amazing sounds began to happen, and at one point the sound was so visceral that I felt as though I were taming a wild beast.

»Pipe Dreams III« was performed in 2024 on the organ that I had spent so much time playing in 1989–90. One big difference, though, was that the console was totally new and computerised. Having access to the organ for only a few hours before the concert, I decided that I did not have enough time to feel comfortable with the console and should not attempt to recreate the piece I had written in 1989. I would instead use the same sequence of stops and perform an improvised piece. I loved the sounds that were being created, and I was having so much fun that at one point I even started to laugh quietly. I began to visualise the beating notes as if they were atoms, opening them up to expose their innards, with the beating, higher-pitched notes — neutrons and protons — shimmering at the top, and the lower notes — the electrons — throbbing away at the bottom. I was playing notes not so much for their pitch value, but for how they affected the notes and sound phenomena already being played. Instead of a time signature, I timed the entries by listening to the beating patterns, waiting for the right moment to enter. And no, I wasn’t hallucinating.«

Mary Jane Leach, 2026

A Flower to Water, the staggering new album from Greek Progressive-Post Metal outfit Playgrounded, finds the five-piece pushing their boundaries even further; welcoming the unquantifiable depths of loss, grief and finitude into their meticulous, fractal process as friends in defiance of neglect. Hailing from Athens, Greece but predominantly based in Rotterdam, Netherlands, Playgrounded have never ceased to push the envelope of Post Metal with genre-defying contemporary electronic and cinematic neo-classical elements since the band's inception almost two decades ago. A Flower to Water is Playgrounded's third full-length offering and sees the band thriving in their creative relationship with Pelagic Records. Recorded and produced by the band across multiple studios back home in Athens and Rotterdam, Playgrounded enlisted the help of longtime collaborators C. Cederberg (Leprous, Anathema) who mixed the album at Cederberg Studios in Kristiansand, Norway and George Tandero (Madrugada, Satyricon, Jaga Jazzist) who mastered it in Oslo. A profound sense of patience is keenly felt throughout the album. The deliberate spaces between each hammerblow guitar riff, pulsing bass line or hypnotic drum groove; each heavy, breathless pause and fizzing glitchy whisper all tell of unspoken loss and absence as an indelible part of A Flower to Water and indeed of Playgrounded forever more. In marking this absence however, in embracing loss head on, Playgrounded reify memory in defiance of neglect. By extracting such a colossal, breathtaking piece of work from a seemingly unassuming collection of sounds, clips and sonics; the quintet slow time to a standstill to present grief in bloom; a beautiful, perpetual flower with its roots in loved ones lost. FOR FANS OF Karnivool, Katatonia, Nine Inch Nails, Deftones, Moderat, The Ocean, Vola, Leprous, Skyharbor, Anathema

A Flower to Water, the staggering new album from Greek Progressive-Post Metal outfit Playgrounded, finds the five-piece pushing their boundaries even further; welcoming the unquantifiable depths of loss, grief and finitude into their meticulous, fractal process as friends in defiance of neglect. Hailing from Athens, Greece but predominantly based in Rotterdam, Netherlands, Playgrounded have never ceased to push the envelope of Post Metal with genre-defying contemporary electronic and cinematic neo-classical elements since the band's inception almost two decades ago. A Flower to Water is Playgrounded's third full-length offering and sees the band thriving in their creative relationship with Pelagic Records. Recorded and produced by the band across multiple studios back home in Athens and Rotterdam, Playgrounded enlisted the help of longtime collaborators C. Cederberg (Leprous, Anathema) who mixed the album at Cederberg Studios in Kristiansand, Norway and George Tandero (Madrugada, Satyricon, Jaga Jazzist) who mastered it in Oslo. A profound sense of patience is keenly felt throughout the album. The deliberate spaces between each hammerblow guitar riff, pulsing bass line or hypnotic drum groove; each heavy, breathless pause and fizzing glitchy whisper all tell of unspoken loss and absence as an indelible part of A Flower to Water and indeed of Playgrounded forever more. In marking this absence however, in embracing loss head on, Playgrounded reify memory in defiance of neglect. By extracting such a colossal, breathtaking piece of work from a seemingly unassuming collection of sounds, clips and sonics; the quintet slow time to a standstill to present grief in bloom; a beautiful, perpetual flower with its roots in loved ones lost. FOR FANS OF Karnivool, Katatonia, Nine Inch Nails, Deftones, Moderat, The Ocean, Vola, Leprous, Skyharbor, Anathema

Hailing from Providencia, Colombia (Old Providence Island), Henner, Derrick, Luis, Feliciano and Senen are the Black Diamonds; a band that seamlessly blends the irresistible grooves of reggae with the infectious rhythms of calypso, creating a sound that is both timeless and refreshingly original.

For years, Black Diamonds have been synonymous with the laid-back, soulful reggae sound of Old Providence Island, crafting songs that reflect the Caribbean's easy rhythms and rich cultural heritage. Their debut release, however, takes an unexpected—and thoroughly enjoyable—detour into upbeat calypso, proving that the band is more than capable of stepping outside its comfort zone.

"De Seh Seh" (gossip.. chat and talk to much about the others in Creole) also features a remix by Venezuelan producer and multi-instrumentalist Caribombo, who transforms the song into a dancefloor-ready journey, blending electronic textures with soukous-inspired Afro-house rhythms for a bold, cross-Caribbean reinterpretation.

In 2024, Audrey Powne emerged as a compelling new voice in contemporary jazz with the release of her acclaimed debut album From the Fire; a self-produced and self-composed work celebrated for its lush string arrangements, soaring trumpet performances, and emotionally rich songwriting. Now, two years later, Powne returns with Bodies of Water, a bold and deeply introspective follow-up that continues her elemental exploration: from fire to water. An exploration of what it means to exist alongside others in an increasingly unstable world, Bodies of Water reflects on vulnerability, responsibility, and human interconnectedness. The album’s title and conceptual foundation were inspired by a passage from Caleb Azumah Nelson’s novel Small Worlds: “...to make himself a body, like water, a still surface, but beneath this, a ripple, and beneath this, an ebbing tide, and beneath that, a violent, constant tow…” Throughout the record, lyrics ruminate on the idea that like all bodies of water, we are vulnerable to disruption and catastrophe. Unlike inanimate bodies of water, however, we are conscious participants in both the damage and the repair. That tension between what we are made of and what we are responsible for became a grounding and harmonious thought. This album is a meditation on that idea, both in my personal life and in a broader, collective sense. Swollen, Broken Record, and Karma, reflect on moments of cruelty and error including her own that felt unbearable. Viewing them instead as forces moving through the landscape of a life, violent but temporary to survive their immediate impact. More socially conscious tracks Stay Awake, Creeds, RYV, and Two Sides confront frustration with political polarisation and the emptiness of language unaccompanied by action. The title and final track Bodies of Water brings these ideas together, reimagining both personal and societal upheaval as events shaped by bodies of water moving through the world destructive at times, transformative at others, and always in motion. Blending traditional jazz with Afrobeat rhythms, Dilla-inspired grooves, ambient textures, and expansive arrangements, Bodies of Water reveals the breadth of Powne’s artistic vision. The record moves fluidly between spiritual jazz, warped soul and rhythm-driven experimentation, while layered interludes and meticulous production thread its disparate influences into a unified and immersive sonic world.

Curses' dark, romantic take on electronic music is often linked to EBM, new beat, synth-pop, and the offshoots in between - but, as the artist states, it's feelings, not genres, that motivate his music. Especially the underground and its niche sounds, brimming with collective energy, drive and passion, make for a major impetus. It's no coincidence that he's drawn to the era when man turned to the machine, as a collaborative force, and a new kind of liveliness, timelessness, emerged. In Curses' practice, this synergy translates into an enticing mix of synthesisers and voices, electronic drums and guitars. Nostalgia operates as an influence rather than a motive, though: despite its affinities with the past, his music is stridently contemporary and idiosyncratic. On the "Perfect High" EP, this approach is rendered in a resolutely dancefloor-oriented selection. It's rich in detail and constantly evolving; each time a new element appears, it's treated with such delight and care that you could imagine the track to flit off and turn it into the main theme. This doesn't happen, however, as the sense of cohesion and momentum is paramount: there's a relentless forward drive that keeps engagement tight from start to finish. The detuned, chorus-heavy leads of title track "Perfect High" and the clockwork-tinged percussion of "Weapon Of Time" jell with lustrous hooks. The ominous choirs on "Dare To Dream" and the proto rolling-and-scratching squelches of "Killer Instinct" similarly fall into place. Bravado never stands in the way of flow. Everything is kept in check by gated R-50 rhythms, and in the vocal department, Curses finds the sweet spot between his own voice and a slew of off-kilter samples. On closer "Blasted" NYC royalty Andi joins for a slab of synth-driven groove. It's shiny and sensuous, like patent leather - a perfect distillation of club music channeled through pop aesthetics, and thus a right coda for ALT028.

For her new and most radical album »Electroacoustic Works for Halldorophone«, Martina Bertoni used the electronic instrument at EMS Stockholm to create four pieces that are massive in scale and incredibly intimate, sonically restrained and emotionally overwhelming—almost ambient and always demanding your full attention.

Martina Bertoni returns to Karlrecords with »Electroacoustic Works for Halldorophone,« her most radical album yet. The foundation for the four electroacoustic pieces was laid during a residency at Stockholm’s legendary Elektronmusikstudion (EMS) that the Berlin-based cellist and composer used to explore the curious instrument, originally designed by Halldór Úlfarsson in 2008, as an algorithmic system in order to examine tunings and the mathematical relationships between Aiming to analyse and understand their interaction beyond the composer’s control, Bertoni sought to engage more deeply with the concepts of time, tuning, and, most importantly, control. Accordingly, her four »Electroacoustic Works for Halldorophone« seem both massive in scale and incredibly intimate, sonically restrained and emotionally overwhelming— almost ambient and always demanding your full attention.

While the halldorophone—famously used by Hildur Guðnadóttir for her »Joker« score—roughly resembles a cello and can be played like one, it is an electronic instrument. The vibration of its strings is being picked up, amplified, and then routed through a speaker. This creates a feedback loop that becomes increasingly complex depending on how much gain is added to individual strings. Úlfarsson gave Bertoni a carte blanche for how to handle the instrument, but she stresses that she relied on »minimal interventions—some string strumming and plucking« that set the interactions of different sounds and frequencies into motion. »I decided to not approach it like a cellist would,« she explains. »Instead I used it as a kind of generative organ by turning it into a feedback machine, with tuned feedback triggering more feedback depending on the tuning, which was based on tetraphonic scales that I could apply on the four main strings as well as the sympathetic group of strings.«

Bertoni recorded the material in the EMS studio, later composing and arranging the four complex pieces in her home in Berlin, after which they were mixed and mastered by Ciaran O’Shea. While this can be considered a compositional abstraction process, traces of her concrete work as a performer are firmly ingrained in the music. »The halldorophone doesn’t have a line output, just a double set of speakers, which is why I recorded all sounds with two microphones in the EMS studio,« she explains. »That’s why there’s plenty of breathing sounds here and there—label owner Thomas Herbst and I jokingly refer to the album as my ›chamber music record‹.« And indeed, there is a striking sense of intimacy to these four pieces throughout which individual sounds, harmonic frequencies, and even subtle rhythmic figures seem to move both on their own accord but also according to a underlying vision that steers their interplay.

Indeed, »Electroacoustic Works for Halldorophone« is an album built on and marked by contrasts. The soothing polylogue of single sounds in the higher register on opener »Omen in G« is counterpointed by massive bass drones, while the second piece, »Nominal in D,« plays a cunning game of repetition and difference by combining thick textures with all kinds of rhythmic elements. »Fades in C«—the longest of the four pieces, clocking in at 17 minutes—unlocks the emotional potentials of the sonic qualities of the halldorophone, sounding at once serene and anthemic, and »Organon in D« closes the album by underscoring how Bertoni’s unconventional approach allows her to seamlessly transform simple, quiet tones into complex, towering walls of sound.

Tucked in the heart of Koreatown, Los Angeles, lies The Libra Hotel—the titular architecture of Nick Malkin's new album and site of his musical and psychogeographic exploration. Unlike most musical "site-specific" studies, Malkin remains wholly ambivalent to the documentarian approach, instead sharpening an auteur-like focus on the site as a conceptual and highly expressive backdrop. The Libra is musically explored as a space that houses a noir fragmentation of identity—the exhausted trope of a complicated protagonist walking through rain-soaked street corners and fumy neon lights—where an inner monologue is rendered in both miniature and at a cosmic scale. Casting aside stifling tropes around field recording, ambient, and improvised music, Malkin's work finds its own unique fidelity and emotional core through the assembly and reassembly of memory. Nearly every sound on the album—from frayed saxophones, lambent pianos, and dissected jazz drum kits—are multiplied, shattered, and reconstituted into shapes that adorn The Libra in a motion-blurred fog. The narrative of the Hotel suddenly appears as if out of the mist, with intersecting characters interacting within its walls by happenstance. Adminst the languid set pieces, wraith-like sonic grains gravitate around wide subbass beams that give structural form to The Libra, a narrative tension like when a scene is shot from hundreds of different perspectives: an image both luminous and veiled.

Much like Frank Sinatra's own spatial residency immortalized on "Live at The Sands," "At The Libra Hotel" showcases an exuberant view of entertainment, hospitality, and a form of masculinity, one that can quickly detourn into darkness. Knowing this, Malkin extracts a melancholic core out of The Libra locale. The flickering shadows of American decadence are shown in their ephemeral honesty, lines that trace how even in everyday life virtue is tested, sanity is tested, even reality is tested within the confines of desire, within the night. The album is draped in fleeting textures, carefully arranged with a trance-like microtonality, the faint inflections and articulations of a jazz band cascading into dissipated stillness. Voicemails about changed locations and covert eavesdropping on guests' whispered conversations provide an atmosphere of missed connection and voyeurism—a purloined letter of desire receding into a vanishing point. Like the music itself, The Hotel, a chapel perilous at the intersection of desolation row, the center of it all, yet simultaneously at the edge of town, becomes a structure between libidinous virtuality and actuality—our inevitable half-light.

Ultimately, the pensive atmosphere of "At The Libra Hotel," powerfully asserts a plea for the kinds of intimacy only possible in transient spaces. Here, memory cascades into a force that feels like something supernatural, perhaps even religious, yet always subject to the infidelity of our imagination. Here, the album opens into its primary psychodrama, the transient nature of subjectivity itself and how this becomes fractured in the tumult between our commitments and desires. Within this nocturnal space, to quote Louise Bourgeois, "you pile up associations the way you pile up bricks. Memory itself is a form of architecture."

Children of Zeus return with their third studio album ‘As The World Burns…’

Five years on from their highly-acclaimed sophomore album ‘Balance’, Manchester’s kings of hip hop soul, Tyler Daley and Konny Kon, bring us a brand new 16-track opus.

Sonically the duo continue their story where they left off; crafting an amalgamation of street soul, alternative r&b and boom bap hip hop, with a sprinkle of flavours taken from their original multi-genre pirate radio influences, and a dash of forward-thinking new sounds, ensuring all tracks are destined to become future classics.

The features are sparing but powerful, enlisting the talents of revered UK rapper Knucks (‘Before We Drown’), Colorado-native Young Old Soul (‘Dopamine’), MCR family K S R (‘Do You Want To Get High’, & Australian/Mauritian up & comer Anieszka (‘Water & Vibes’).

As with previous projects, this album is largely produced by the duo themselves, though there are guest productions from previous collaborators too, including Grammy Award-winner Beat Butcha, Grammy-nominated Teo, and broken beat pioneer K15, along with an assortment of new players making moves in the underground neo-soul & beats circuit.

Conceptually, this project continues on with the story to date. An eternal search for sunsets and soulfood, as a respite to the anxieties of the modern world; personally, professionally and globally. Assertive swagger is matched with brutal but sincere candidity. As ever, it encapsulates the rough with the smooth, with reflections on where they’ve been, where they’re at and where they’re headed. There’s no preaching to be found here; just an acceptance of things as they are, an embrace of the environment and people they were nurtured by, and a celebration of some of the finer things in life; slow jams, weed & rum, water & vibes. Raps for listeners, blunt heads, fly ladies and prisoners. All packaged together as another perfect sonic love letter to sound system culture. 50 minutes of big people music.

Since the release of their anthemic debut single ‘Still Standing’ a decade ago, to the subsequent EP ‘The Story So Far’, and their critically-lauded debut album ‘Travel Light’, the duo have received numerous accolades, including nominations for AIM Awards & Worldwide Awards both, along with tons of ‘Album of the Year’ nods care of Clash Magazine, Bandcamp, Complex, Wordplay and many more. This along with huge swathes of support from DJs, radio stations, press outlets, tastemakers, luminaries & fellow artists across the globe.

Children of Zeus have performed sessions for COLORS, Soulection (Apple Music), DJ AG, Boiler Room, BBC 6 Music and at the infamous Maida Vale studios for BBC 1Xtra as well as touring across Europe, Australia and South Africa. This is in addition to collaborating & touring with Mercury Award Winner’s Ezra Collective, including a Wembley Arena show. Other collaborations over the years have included Shy FX, Juls, Goldie, Black Milk, Kofi Stone and the late great Lenzman.

From the Broke ’n’ English / Hoodman-era, to the present day, Children of Zeus have been omnipresent in the fabric of British black music. Proud ambassadors of Manchester music, and of UK soul, it really is “Zeus to the world”.

Children of Zeus have been adorned with plenty of flowers over their career. The unbridled quality and poignance of the music and the message on display throughout this project will see the algorithmic needle move some more. It’s undoubtedly set to be a Zeus Summer. As the world burns…

Available on all digital platforms and physical formats, Friday September 4th 2026.







t 07: Do You Want To Get High? (feat. K S R ) - Children of Zeus03:26







t 07: Do You Want To Get High? (feat. [ K S R ]) - Children of Zeus03:26







[t] 07: Do You Want To Get High? (feat. [ K S R ]) - Children of Zeus03:26







[g] B3 | Do You Want To Get High? (feat [ K S R ]) - Children of Zeus03:26

»Cosmogonical Ears« is Amosphère's first album for Hallow Ground. Following her contribution to the Swiss label’s »Epiphanies« compilation and her 2021 full-length debut »More Die of Heartbreak« on 33-33, it features three expansive pieces. The Paris-based composer and multidisciplinary artist delves deeper into themes of time, space, cosmology, human perception, and psycho-physical effects, crafting profound sonic meditations. Drawing on a minimalist approach while blending electronic and acoustic elements, Amosphère’s long-form compositions are living, breathing entities whose sonic richness and evocative power unfold gradually over time, putting »Cosmogonical Ears« in direct kinship with previous Hallow Ground releases by artists such as Kali Malone and FUJI|||||||||||TA.

The album opens with its longest piece, »Land of eternal delight,« composed for the Buddha10 exhibition at the Museo d'Arte Orientale in Turin. Written during three years of isolation—a period in which Amosphère explored meditation practices and diverse belief systems—it merges mythology with personal transcendental experiences, reflecting on a challenging time for humanity. »By blending Buddhist philosophy and sculpture with my own meditation practices, I sought to explore a way for people to transcend the boundaries of space and time—not as a believer, but as an observer,« she explains. Featuring handmade ceramic instruments and recorded by Thomas Lefevre, the piece combines Amosphère’s electronic organ with Marc Lochner’s flute contributions, creating a sound that is simultaneously minimalist and expansive.

The concept of teleportation and how it challenges traditional notions of time and space serves as the foundation for the second piece. »Recent advances in quantum physics suggest that teleportation might be possible through quantum entanglement,« Amosphère notes. »What if science fiction is becoming reality—or has already existed in ancient times?« Drawing inspiration from theories proposed by physicists such as Roger Penrose, Amosphère again worked together with flutist Lochner, this time using her VCS 3 synthesizer. »Teleportation« weaves single notes into intricate, non-linear patterns that defy conventional logic, creating a complex auditory tapestry. The last piece »Black hole in, white hole out« was recorded on Corsica and features Miao Zhao’s bass clarinet drones alongside Amosphère’s church organ. It imagines the possible sound of crossing a black hole while also suggesting the study of its theoretical exit and its potential applications for large-scale time and space travel.

The questions posed by »Cosmogonical Ears« do not yield straightforward answers. Instead, Amosphère’s restrained yet intricately layered compositions require full immersion and concentration from the listener. As expressed by the album’s title—which envisions the birth of a new universe through listening—»Cosmogonical Ears« offers an experimental approach to auditory perception as a tool for seeking truth, freedom, and harmony between the outer world and the inner self.

FKJ returns with Tyber— a project that captures a period of personal and creative transformation following the release of his acclaimed album ‘V I N C E N T’. Written and recorded across multiple continents, the album reflects years spent navigating movement, solitude, collaboration and renewal.

The result is FKJ at his most expansive and uninhibited. Across ‘Tyber’, groove-driven compositions sit alongside jazz-led instrumentals, sample-heavy explorations and more direct songwriting moments, moving seamlessly through genres without ever losing cohesion. The album feels both deeply personal and globally informed, spotlighting an artist documenting his evolution in real time. It captures musical snapshots across London, Los Angeles, Paris, Brazil, and beyond to create music that combines intricacy and intimacy seamlessly.

Anchored by themes of emotional equilibrium and self-care, Tyber balances vulnerable storytelling with an unmistakable, groove-laden optimism. The album seamlessly weaves together spontaneous, late-night collaborations with artists like Labrinth, Bas, and Baby Rose, alongside deeply personal solo compositions. Ultimately, Tyber is a vibrant celebration of human connection and resilience, offering listeners an immersive, cinematic invitation into FKJ’s newly restored world.

Geoff Kirkwood (Man Power)

I’dgained some notoriety as a music producer and DJ but I hit a horrible case of writers block around 2018.

The problem I was finding was that I was trying to shoe horn every smart arsed clever dick musical reference I had into the music I was making, but the function of dance music is to make people dance, not to show people who broad your musical references are, so I was making pretty shitty music that landed in the middle and didn’t achieve either aim.

To tackle this I ended up committing to just trying to make the most expressive and wanky experimental stuff I could. I was immersed in club culture at the time so the whole enterprise started as a joke, hence the name “Bed Wetter”. However when I fully submitted to just naked exploration the really unexpected thing that happened was that I found myself unavoidably having to deal with a lot of my own bullshit. That bullshit turned into the “Billy Mill is Dead” album, which was essentially the sound of me excavating my own life and looking at how I felt about where I was from, where I was headed, my family, my history, my region and all of the things i have conflicting feelings about.

It was partially catharsis and also a bit of deprogramming around being able to call myself an artist after being raised to believe that wasn’t an option for me.

I self released Billy Mill is Dead in the months before the pandemic and it found it’s fair share of love in the places I hoped would connect with it, and just the right amount of being ignored by people who I’m pleased didn’t feel it. This all lead to me being emboldened enough to apply for an artist in residence position at a big regional opera house months later in the middle of lockdown.

My feeling was that if my DJ career was potentially over for the remainder of my lifetime then there was no harm in exploring this alternative method of expression to see where it could take me.

I submitted a ridiculously ambitious plan for what I would like to do as a project, and to my absolute shock I was selected for the position.

I was 40 years old and from a scarcity background so I had a potentially unique response to that kind of validation for the first time and what followed next was a process of me just coming back with bigger and more ridiculous ideas just to find out at whatstage they’d tell me to stop.

The thing is, nobody did. I got as far as suggesting writing a full symphony to be performed by an orchestra before my own nerve gave out and I decided that was probably as far as I should push things.

The problem with people giving you permission to do things is that you then need to go out and figure out how to do those things.

The biggest issue for me, beyond raising the money to pay for everything, was how does a person actually write a symphony?

I was introduced to Fiona Brice, a multi instrumentalist and orchestral arranger. She’s also a recording artist who releases on Bella Union. On top of that she’s a violinist who used to be part of the band Placebo and who used to appear regularly playing for other bands on things like Top of the Pops.

Not only was Fiona uniquely placed to not look down on the strange provenance of someone from an Acid House background wanting to write a symphony, but more to the point we really hit it off from day one.

Fiona coached me in the essentials of writing for an Orchestra, and then I went off and wrote the 8 movements.

I’d love to say I laboured for years over this bit, but it took about 2 weeks in total. I’d also love to say what I wrote was a complete symphony, but the version of this which is solely me feels like looking at something without your glasses on. The shape,feel and borders were all there, but the definition was absent. Fiona taught me the broad language of a symphony, but without her it would have lacked all intonation, nuance and detail. Where I had shaped ideas with a hammer, she brought out my meaning with precision using a scalpel.

I think the prodigiously quick turnaround for the music is as much proof of how conceptually and musically aligned Fiona and I are. I know we’re both incredibly proud of what we’ve created.

It took nearly 2 more years to stage the debut performance in what was potentially the most traumatic period of my life which saw me embroiled in an international crisis with my own family and the death of my father, all with the backdrop of COVID.

The work itself is inspired by the working class experience, but it’s also a comment on how we get to decide what we are and how we’re defined, and we get to choose what we do to prove these things.

The original recording was contractually impossible to ever share again, so we re-recorded it in a working men’s club with jobbing (albeit world class) players. In many ways it’s a record that feels like it shouldn’t exist, which is why we’re all so happy that it does.

The follow up to her UK number 1 album This Is How Tomorrow Moves, the stark and striking fourth album by beabadoobee is named for the electricity towers that dot every major artery in the world—the strong, spindly structures that reminded Beatrice Laus of her connection to friends and family at home while she was staring down extreme disconnection and isolation on tour over the past few years.

The title can also be read as an allusion to Laus’ spiky, forceful new sound—the waves of distortion that crash and shatter across this record’s 14 songs mirroring the intense crackle you hear when walking under power lines. The pylon is also a fitting symbol for an album that reckons with the repetitive anxieties of your mid-twenties: What if I’m always going to be this way? What if life is just pylon after pylon on the road?

The album’s first single is available to stream and buy from today: “Sun Has Set” introduces Pylon as, in essence, a set of songs that began as diary entries, words that Laus thought she’d never be able to say out loud. “A lot of the songs on this record are things I wish I could have said to someone,” she says. “This song has this petty tunnel vision—it’s like, I hate you. You’re gonna stay here and listen to how much I hate you. Because I never got to say that.” The single comes accompanied by a striking first person video directed by Bea’s partner and longtime visual collaborator Jake Erland.


Ever a devotee of pure rock music—both as something to be cherished and something to be played with—Laus casts these feelings in songs that touch on classic grunge, midwest emo and ‘90s radio rock, zeroing in on a sound that is both harsher and more direct than any of her previous records. She says the music she’s loved has “always been an influence” on her music, and so for B4 she went straight to the source. A fair few of Beabadoobee’s composite influences contributed to Pylon, a fact that speaks to the goodwill and respect Laus has amassed over the course of her relatively brief career.

Hayley Williams sings on “Nothing to Prove,” a deeply anthemic indie-rock song about getting your power back from fairweather friends who just want a bit of your success. The moody “Powerlines” features a verse from Turnstile singer Brendan Yates, a master of matching vocal force with emotional nuance. Elsewhere, you’ll find contributions from Pinegrove’s Evan Stephens Hall, Deftones’ Chino Moreno, and Title Fight’s Shane Moran, as well as, on “Write Me A Letter”, production work from Laus’ longtime friends and collaborators Matty Healy and George Daniel of The 1975.

Beabadoobee will debut songs from the record on the Powerlines Tour, her first ever arena shows and biggest tour to date, taking in shows across North America, the UK and Europe this autumn-winter. The Powerlines Tour kicks off 1 October and includes stops at Madison Square Garden, The Kia Forum, The O2 and more (full routing below). Support comes from Wisp in the US, Canada and UK and Violet Grohl in France, The Netherlands, Belgium and Germany.





Born in the Philippines and raised in London, Beatrice Laus emerged as a British alternative music icon across three acclaimed albums and five EPs. She has garnered multiple BRIT Award and BBC Sound Of nominations, and won NME’s Radar award, whilst amassing over 10 billion streams worldwide and more than 12 million followers across her social channels.

This Is How Tomorrow Moves became her first record to reach number 1 on the UK Official Album Chart in 2024, following her Top 10 albums Fake It Flowers (which reached number 8) in 2020 and 2022’s Beatopia (#4). Earlier this year, beabadoobee released the one-off single ‘‘All I Did Was Dream Of You,” teaming up with Grammy-nominated best New Artist The Marías, the result of a longtime mutual creative admiration between María Zardoya and Bea.

Continuing in its series of Yoko Ono reissues, Secretly Canadian has announced that Ono’s seminal 1982 album It’s Alright (I See Rainbows) will be released August 28, 2026, in expanded CD and digital versions, and on vinyl for the first time in more than forty years, with expanded and enhanced artwork. Influenced equally by 1960s girl group vocals and 1980s synthesizer experimentation, It's Alright (I See Rainbows) is an album of “adventurous… lush… committed and convincing avant-gardism” (Rolling Stone). As Ono said in her 1992 Onobox liner notes, “It was ’82 and it seemed as though I was finally in sync with the world.” Vacillating from a widow’s never-truly-over grief, to the necessary uplift for an artist and mother to continue her life’s missions, tracks like “Loneliness” and “Spec of Dust” make way for poptimism via “Let the Tears Dry,” and title track “It’s Alright.” As Ono said of the album in 1983, “It’s like my diary that I went through… and I’m just saying, hey, I’ve got the same kind of emotions that you’ve probably got too, and here I am saying hello… Around December 8th or whatever, I was feeling really heavy and feeling sort of down, you know… and then, side two, it’s all right… It was Sean Lennon who says, ‘Wake up, wake up, mommy.’ Like an angel that came and said, ‘Wake up!’… Wake up and dream love, and let the tears dry and I see rainbows. And sort of I’m saying all that. In result of Sean waking me up, see?” Lennon, speaking of his mother in a more recent interview with NPR in 2025, “She would say that energy is just energy, so you can turn it into anything you like. And she always said that she would take that negative energy and turn it into something productive and creative… It never stopped her from creating and putting herself out there, and I really think that it paid off… You never know how long it'll take for people to appreciate you if you just kind of hang on and don't give up.”

Houston’s premier street griot is stepping into his most profound chapter yet with his highly anticipated upcoming album, O.Y.N. Throughout a decorated career that spans over 1.2 billion global streams and a fiercely loyal fanbase, Maxo Kream—born Emekwane Ogugua Biosah, Jr.—has established himself as one of rap’s most authentic, uncompromising storytellers. From the raw trenches of Alief to the critically acclaimed triumphs of Punken, Brandon Banks, Weight of the World, and his triumphant 2024 independent pivot Personification, Maxo has long been celebrated by Pitchfork, NPR, and Complex for his cinematic, hyper-detailed world-building. Now, O.Y.N. finds the Houston icon turning his gaze inward, pairing his signature Texas grit with an expansive, global perspective that redefines his artistic boundaries.

If his previous work was about Maxo taking full creative control as an independent force, O.Y.N. is about him uncovering who he is at his core. Following the passing of his father, Maxo found himself searching deeper for his family origins, leading to a pivotal moment of artistic and personal rebirth. For the first time in his life, Maxo traveled to Lagos, Nigeria, anchoring his new music in a profound celebration of his Nigerian heritage. The emotional centerpiece of this journey is the JPEGMAFIA-produced single “Time Out,” an introspective track that moves away from the frantic energy of his past releases to offer a stripped-back look at love, loss, and legacy. Featuring a heavy, resonant drum presence on the outro, the song’s accompanying music video was filmed on location in Lagos, capturing Maxo navigating his ancestral roots in real-time.

While O.Y.N. reaches new emotional depths, it doesn't sacrifice the hard-hitting, volatile street persona that made Maxo a star. The album expertly balances soul-baring vulnerability with cutting-edge hip-hop experimentation, showcasing elite chemistry with some of the genre's most forward-thinking visionaries. Look no further than “Fake Jeezy,” a collaborative explosion featuring Denzel Curry and masterminded by JPEGMAFIA. The track is a masterclass in industrial chaos, combining sharp lyricism and early-2000s trap imagery with cold, surreal visual aesthetics. This duality highlights Maxo's unique positioning in the culture as a trusted street general who can effortlessly trade bars with rap's avant-garde elite.

From his early days flipping Kendrick Lamar's “Rigamortis” to sharing marquee tracks with the likes of A$AP Rocky, Travis Scott, and Tyler, The Creator on hits like “Big Persona,” “Cracc Era,” and “Cracc At 15,” Maxo Kream has always been a rapper's rapper. O.Y.N. represents the ultimate synthesis of this incredible journey. It is an album born from the soil of Alief but elevated by the spirit of Lagos—a raw, beautiful, and heavy-hitting testament to an artist who has survived his past, honored his losses, and fully embraced his destiny.

Anushka Chkheidze + Robert Lippok continue their collaboration with »The Sky Was Out of Tune«. Its eight movements form a long-form ambient piece in constant flux: soundscapes emerge from electronic synthesis and layered textures, while small melodies, rhythmic patterns, metallic noises, or distortions drift through like clouds across the sky. But a sky that is out of tune is still a sky. What shifts is the register in which it speaks.

»The Sky Was Out of Tune« emerges from a live performance for »Festival of Future Nows« at Berlin’s Neue Nationalgalerie. Its organically tangled sounds mirror the artists’ attention to nature as a system that is never quite in equilibrium. Ecosystems lean, compensate, tip, and recover—balance, in the natural world, is not a fixed state but a perpetual negotiation. Chkheidze and Lippok take this as both subject and method. Their sounds shift weight between one another, approach resolution and then withdraw from it, hold tension without release—they find form in the unstable. »Preparing something unstable completely changed the method of how we would normally split our skills or roles,« Chkheidze says. »I think in this one looong piece you feel how much we listen to each other.«

Anushka Chkheidze + Robert Lippok continue their collaboration with »The Sky Was Out of Tune«. Its eight movements form a long-form ambient piece in constant flux: soundscapes emerge from electronic synthesis and layered textures, while small melodies, rhythmic patterns, metallic noises, or distortions drift through like clouds across the sky. But a sky that is out of tune is still a sky. What shifts is the register in which it speaks.

»The Sky Was Out of Tune« emerges from a live performance for »Festival of Future Nows« at Berlin’s Neue Nationalgalerie. Its organically tangled sounds mirror the artists’ attention to nature as a system that is never quite in equilibrium. Ecosystems lean, compensate, tip, and recover—balance, in the natural world, is not a fixed state but a perpetual negotiation. Chkheidze and Lippok take this as both subject and method. Their sounds shift weight between one another, approach resolution and then withdraw from it, hold tension without release—they find form in the unstable. »Preparing something unstable completely changed the method of how we would normally split our skills or roles,« Chkheidze says. »I think in this one looong piece you feel how much we listen to each other.«

Brazilian artist Rubel isn’t one to be pigeonholed and typecast into staying in one sound. Casas, the follow-up to his debut album Pearl from 2015, brought a bigger, more epic, and richer production quality to the table. Fusing the worlds of MPB and hip hop, Rubel’s sophomore LP built on the momentum of its predecessor, gaining a Latin-Grammy nomination along the way. Mr Bongo is proud to be giving Casas its first worldwide release on vinyl and CD outside of Brazil and Japan.

The cliché they say is that the second album is always the trickiest; however, Rubel doesn’t seem to have had any problems on Casas. It’s a fountain of creativity and originality, marking an artist in full flow.

Conceived after Rubel spent six months living in Los Angeles, Casas is MPB-leaning at its core but is also driven by a hip hop inspired pulse. There is a clear influence from hip hop’s aesthetic across the 2010s woven subtly but fundamentally throughout. Nods to Frank Ocean, Kendrick Lamar and Tyler, The Creator can be heard across an album full of playful edge and personality. Luscious string-led arrangements and tracks that explore the rich folkloric rhythms of Brazil, sit next to songs with low-fi drum machines and features from acclaimed Brazilian rappers.

One of the highlights of the album, ‘Mantra’, starts with a traditional Brazilian rhythm that morphs into a hazy hip hop beat. A sublime song with a hooky call and response chorus, it features a guest appearance and verse by the Brazilian MC Emicida. Another highlight is the epic ‘Colégio’ (College) which further showcases the melding of stripped back drum machine beats with cinematic, sweeping arrangements. Elsewhere, ‘Partilhar’ is a swaying, heartwarming hug. A tale of longing and love that has become a singalong fan favourite at Rubel’s concerts.

Casas also shines a light on a string of key players in Brazil’s new vanguard, such as Pedro Fonte, Gus Levy, and Brazilian rapper / poet Rincon Sapiência to name a handful. The record has pop sensibilities yet also feels underground. It beats with the heart of a singer-songwriter, a feeling that was felt so strongly on Pearl, yet this time is bolstered by a level of arrangement and richness of sound that take it to another dimension - soaring horn and string sections elevating the songs from home recording to stadium-ready anthems. Keeping that intrinsic beauty and simplicity of a well-constructed song yet reframing it within a pop context is the true gift of this album.

Casas cemented Rubel’s status as one of Brazil’s leading contemporary talents and a key figure enriching the country’s already effervescent scene.

Dublin-born, thirty years an immigrant. That's the spine of henryohenry's debut, Apocrypha, not as a concept but as a condition. He's spent three decades in the United States working in the trades, absorbing the country's mythologies and building what he calls "an idiosyncratic American language" out of them, something closer to Whitman's vision than what he found. He is, by his own account, "formally and informally not a musician" — all but two of the songs were written on a $6 charity-shop guitar with a repaired headstock and strings that distorted unpredictably. It doesn't appear on the record. Produced by filmmaker Rick Alverson, the album is anchored by guitarist Eamon O'Leary and his son Ned Steves, recording together for the first time, without rehearsal. Erik Hall mixed and contributed overdubs; Emilie Rex of Lean Year lends harmonies to three songs; poet Callie Garnett appears on another. Album standout "There" captures something harder to name: how powerful feelings drive you to the page, and how the thing you make can outlast the feelings that made it. "It feels like a triumph over something," he says, "even if you're a bit embarrassed by some of the sentiment."


Apocrypha arrives as a debut but carries the patience of a life lived in full. For fans of John Cale, Nick Drake, Leonard Cohen.

Coloured Vinyl. Harsh Reality - the fourth studio album by Seattle's The Drowns - is an unapologetically political punk record, coming this September from Pirates Press Records. Recorded at The Blasting Room in Fort Collins, CO by punk rock legend Bill Stevenson (Descendents, Black Flag) and mixed by Jason Livermore (Teenage Bottlerocket), this collection of 13 new songs fuses everything fans have loved about the band's previous sonic experimentation and focuses it into laser-tight melodic songwriting firmly rooted in punk rock, but with the potential to reach listeners from all walks of life. Singer-guitarist Rev Peters, singer-bassist Andy Wylie, and drummer Jake Margolis largely bashed out the tracks themselves, with the exception of additional guitar work on "Vengeance" by Zach Blair (Rise Against, Only Crime, GWAR), and a touch of accordion on "3rd & Pike" courtesy of Matt Hensley (A-100s, Flogging Molly). While the title of lead single "Relentless" could easily refer to The Drowns' infamously non-stop touring regimen, it refers instead to something far more humanitarian: the crushing weight of capitalism on the working poor. The song acknowledges the toll it takes on one's mental health, struggling day in & day out with no breaks only to be left farther & farther behind. "I wish life would just give it a rest", laments Rev. The album contains its fair share of venom, however, like all great political punk in the tradition of The Clash or Stiff Little Fingers, the lyrics prioritize people over polemic, reaching out with compassion in an age where it is in distressingly short supply. "I'm sure that we could change it all if we only had a heart", implores Andy on "Have a Heart". This is life-affirming music for hard times, made for everyone that could sorely use it right now, and a record poised to give the band's hard-earned position as a fan-favorite in the global punk scene an even greater trajectory. For a band that has won over fans around the globe, record by record and show by show, it is a big statement, but simply put: Harsh Reality is The Drowns at the top of their game.

Moving between lo-fi experimental songwriting, sparse post-punk textures and intimate recordings; Ukrainian artist Regina Collage’s new album ‘Horizont’ is a personal and honest document of rebuilding a life and creative voice in Bristol. The record holds space for themes of burnout, quiet shame, tenderness and the courage of staying emotionally open when the world feels unstable. Sung entirely in Ukrainian, ‘Horizont’ does not ask the listener to understand every word. Feeling carries the songs forward. Across bedroom recordings and borrowed studios, Regina moves between cloudy dissonance and stark minimal arrangements built around bass, fragments of guitar, and an exposed voice. The recordings hold onto their rough edges. Mistakes remain and imperfection becomes part of the story. “Music for me is about not being scared to be vulnerable,” Regina says. “Almost every song I have is about what it means to be open and emotional. I really do not think it is a weakness. I hope people can listen and feel welcome to take a break and just let their emotions exist.” The album takes its name from the Ukrainian word for “horizon,” that unreachable line where sky meets earth. For Regina, the horizon became a quiet metaphor for living with distance and uncertainty. Inspired by one of her collage artworks showing a figure lying in grass and staring toward that far line, the title track reflects a feeling of moving toward something that never quite comes closer. Even without understanding the lyrics, the song carries a slow sense of longing and suspended arrival. m‘Vpiznavaty’, by contrast, initially feels almost light. Beneath that surface is a candid portrait of burnout and depressive exhaustion. The song looks at those moments when even greeting friends feels overwhelming. It captures the quiet embarrassment of withdrawing from people you care about, and the slow recognition that sometimes stepping away is simply how you survive. Other songs reveal different sides of the same emotional landscape. ‘Weak’ strips everything back to bass, a hint of guitar, and a bare vocal. Written and recorded in a single instinctive session, the track circles around the idea that softness might be its own kind of strength. Repetitive and intentionally unpolished, it quietly sets the tone for the whole record. Running through ‘Horizont’ is the reality of Regina’s life between Ukraine and the UK. Her hometown Kharkiv continues to face attacks, and many of her friends remain on the front line.

For years, EYRE LLEW were defined by motion.

Cities blurred into one another. Borders became routine. Airports, night drives, ferry ports, backstage rooms, festival fields, hotel corridors, and long-distance journeys stitched together into a single continuous life of movement. Success, such as it existed, was measured in miles travelled, crowds gathered, and momentum sustained. The band moved because they had to. Because stopping felt like failure. Because “making it” always seemed to live somewhere just ahead.

Then the world stopped.

Lockdown didn’t just interrupt EYRE LLEW’s trajectory; it dismantled it. The relentless forward motion that had shaped their identity for over a decade disappeared overnight. Tours vanished. Plans dissolved. The infrastructure of their lives as musicians collapsed into silence. For a band built on movement, it felt devastating.

Written across lockdown and the years that followed, the album is not a record about absence; it’s a record about presence. About love that feels like home. About stillness as strength. About devotion without spectacle. About grief without melodrama. About healing without performative optimism. About growth that doesn’t announce itself loudly, but happens slowly, privately, and honestly.

After years of movement, it is EYRE LLEW learning how to stand still and discovering that this is where the real growth starts.

For years, EYRE LLEW were defined by motion.

Cities blurred into one another. Borders became routine. Airports, night drives, ferry ports, backstage rooms, festival fields, hotel corridors, and long-distance journeys stitched together into a single continuous life of movement. Success, such as it existed, was measured in miles travelled, crowds gathered, and momentum sustained. The band moved because they had to. Because stopping felt like failure. Because “making it” always seemed to live somewhere just ahead.

Then the world stopped.

Lockdown didn’t just interrupt EYRE LLEW’s trajectory; it dismantled it. The relentless forward motion that had shaped their identity for over a decade disappeared overnight. Tours vanished. Plans dissolved. The infrastructure of their lives as musicians collapsed into silence. For a band built on movement, it felt devastating.

Written across lockdown and the years that followed, the album is not a record about absence; it’s a record about presence. About love that feels like home. About stillness as strength. About devotion without spectacle. About grief without melodrama. About healing without performative optimism. About growth that doesn’t announce itself loudly, but happens slowly, privately, and honestly.

After years of movement, it is EYRE LLEW learning how to stand still and discovering that this is where the real growth starts.

2026 Repress

Portugal's Dextro returns for second EP of stylish deep techno on Mutual Rytm with ‘Planets And Stars’. Dextro’s tunes have long been a staple of Mutual Rytm label head SHDW's sets, with the esteemed veteran previously landing on the label with his ‘Covil Dos Abutres’ EP last year. His return with ‘Planets And Stars’ features a selection of his most requested IDs from recent times, with the Portuguese DJ/producers featuring as a longstanding favourite within the European underground since the 90s through his stripped-back, economical sound that is rooted in masterful design and intuitive grooves. He is a true studio craftsman, whether going deep or more destructive, and that range is on show here as he makes a splash for his sophomore outing. SHDW notes, “‘Planets And Stars’ feels like his most refined and focused work to date. It also further strengthens our relationship, rooted in a shared vision and values around music and how it should be presented.” The EP kicks off with the heavyweight ‘1000 Places’, a track that will rattle walls as eerie synth whispers and sonar blips snake through the mix. ‘Industria Acéfala’ is just as hypnotic with a deep blend of rolling bass and rooted kicks, while unsettling tension comes in the one-note synth loops and scratchy texture. ‘Planets and Stars’ provides an intergalactic trip with cosmic dust, conscious spoken words and an infinite horizon that has you gazing off into the distance. The all-consuming ‘Perpendicular’ is shadowy with impish motifs darting about the mix as watery droplets fall into cavernous kicks. ‘Winter Letter’ is the final 12”cut and is perfectly deep, linear techno with gorgeous ambient details that turn your thoughts inwards. Three digital bonuses expand the trip: ‘Torresmos com Pão’ is unsettling and sparse, ‘Historia da Vida’ ramps up the tension with oversized hi-hats and rising synth turbulence and finally ‘Ghost Particles’ has shimmering bell sounds evoking a spooky moon-lit church in the dead of night.

When Pouya dropped The South Got Something To Say in the summer of 2019, it wasn’t just a title—it was a definitive statement of growth. Nodding to André 3000’s iconic 1995 Source Awards declaration, the Miami pioneer used his third studio album to prove that his raw, independent formula had mutated into something deeper, more mature, and entirely unmatched in the underground rap landscape. Now, for the first time since its digital release, this pivotal moment in Florida hip-hop history is finally available on wax, offering listeners something tangible they have been anticipating for years.

The South Got Something To Say captures Pouya at a lyrical and sonic turning point. While maintaining the blistering flows, heavy bass, and visceral Florida energy that initially put him on the map, the album opens the door to intense themes of mortality, legacy, and the heavy toll of independent success. It bridges the gap between the frantic energy of the SoundCloud era and a mastery of songwriting, offering fans a remarkably transparent look into the mind of an artist surviving the very chaos that birthed him. Standouts like "Cruisin' in the MIA" and "Florida Thang" showcase his signature rapid-fire delivery, perfectly balancing the record's darker, more introspective moments.

The sonic diversity of the project is anchored by a stellar lineup of collaborators who push Pouya into new creative territory. He enlists Three 6 Mafia royalty Juicy J alongside heavy-hitting underground peers like Ghostemane and City Morgue, while seamlessly pivoting into the melodic, hazy soundscapes of indie-pop artist Cuco and longtime producer Rocci on tracks like "Talk to Me Before I Die" and "Mood Swing Misery." This striking balance of aggressive phonk and melodic vulnerability solidifies the album as a cohesive, genre-bending journey rather than a mere collection of singles.

For years, vinyl collectors and die-hard fans have begged for this underground masterpiece to be immortalized on wax. This first-ever vinyl pressing delivers the booming low-ends and intricate, therapeutic bars exactly how they were meant to be experienced. From the opening nostalgic chords to the final fading beats, this release stands as an essential artifact of the modern underground rap movement, finally giving a landmark Southern album the premium physical presentation it deserves.

The record is largely sung in Scots language, one of Scotland’s three official languages along with Gaelic and English. “Scots gives me a way of expressing myself which is connected directly with the landscapes I love. It brings the songs alive and it is a fascinating language. The name of the record is in Scots - Forefowk means the people who came before, or ancestors. When we say ‘mind me,’ we can mean a few things- remind, remember, watch over or care for me. The record explores how tradition needs to be constantly reconnected with, built upon, looked after, and shared.”
Quinie sings with a style inspired by Scottish Traveller singers. “I began singing unaccompanied Scots Song in 2015 after hearing Scots Traveller singer Sheila Stewart on the radio. Initially I felt like I shouldn't sing these songs because I'm not a Traveller, and I saw people around me doing that in a way that made me uncomfortable. But on the other hand this music made sense to me and I felt driven to learn. Over the years I have met Traveller friends who taught me that settled people sharing these songs could contribute to raising awareness. Scottish Travellers are marginalised and discriminated against in modern Scotland, despite being custodians of so many of our important traditions. So I started to perform them and tell this story. From there I built on my repertoire and started writing my own songs”.
To develop this record, Quinie travelled across Argyll with her horse. They went on a pilgrimage of sorts through the ancient landscapes of the West of Scotland to explore the interconnected relationships between people, ancestors, animals, and place. The album’s vinyl release is accompanied by a book and film, documenting this unusual research process.
Forefowk, Mind Me was recorded in August 2024 at The Big Shed in Highland Perthshire with support from Creative Scotland. Quinie is accompanied by an ensemble of musicians: Ailbhe Nic Oireachtaigh (viola), Oliver Pitt (duduk, bouzouki, percussion), Harry Górski-Brown (small pipes, violin), and Stevie Jones (double bass, recording, and mixing). Each of these artists brings their own distinctive voice, bridging contemporary experimental practice with worlds of traditional and early music.

Bachar Mar-Khalifé Plays Christophe

The album title, Bachar Mar-Khalifé Plays Christophe, inevitably comes as a surprise: the Lebanese composer, singer, and multi-instrumentalist ventures into the world of the pop dandy who escaped the yé-yé era… From the very first notes, one thing becomes clear: splendor flows effortlessly from melodies restored to their fragility and simplicity. Bachar Mar-Khalifé explores the hypnotic melancholy of a world that is both sophisticated and crystal clear. A fascinating plunge “into this collapsing luxury,” as the lyrics of Paradise Lost say. Seven tracks with his collaborators Dogan Poyraz on drums and Aleksander Angelov on bass, seven narratives unfolding the musical richness of Christophe’s songs as much as that of Bachar Mar-Khalifé’s playing and singing. A captivating journey, both on record and on stage. It all started there, in fact. In April 2025, BMK dared to pay tribute to Christophe at the Fragile Festival, at the Cirque Zingaro, five years after his death. At first glance, it wasn't his familiar world. "I haven't idolized him my whole life," he explains. "I really knew Christophe personally before I knew his work in detail." During his childhood in Lebanon, and then after arriving in France in 1989 at the age of six, the music played at home left little room for Christophe's pop. "We listened more to Brassens, Brel, Ferré, Barbara. I hardly knew anything more than 'Les Mots bleus.' Then we met. Christophe loved the night, young musicians, exploring together..." In 2018, Bachar and Christophe recorded a Unik session for FIP, which involved recording a 45 rpm single live, followed by a concert at the Maison de la Radio. The younger brother has the opportunity to discover a legend, but also how it works: “His melodies allow you to go very far—even him, who seems to be searching for a new version with each interpretation, as if he wanted to return to the organic aspect of the song. A researcher who, out of a need for freedom, wants to escape the image people have of him.” So there was no question of overproducing these covers as one might do with the stage fright of tackling an intimidating work. “I tried to go very fast to deliver each song, as if I had composed it myself.” Working instinctively, very spontaneously, the bulk of the album comes from the trio's rehearsals and the concerts that followed. “I chose songs that moved me. Very beautiful melodies and very beautiful lyrics.” Whether the lyrics are by Jean-Michel Jarre or Alain Kan, “they often speak of love in danger.” “I like to hear this quote from Paradise Lost: ‘Dandy, a little cursed, a little aged / In this crumbling luxury.’ Here and there, he pruned the lyrics, as if to make them more audible, in Les Mots bleus, ‘The winter wind blows in April / I love the still silence’ – an evocation of the month of Christophe’s death. And he chose a little-known song from the yé-yé era, Les Amoureux qui passent, in which we hear the young trumpeter Siméon Petrov, who further expands the play on the archetypes of vintage romantic song. Between accepted fragility and the vertigo of feeling, between virtuosity of lightness and unfathomable depths, Bachar Mar-Khalifé unfolds an unexpected kinship with Christophe.” A kinship of silences and sonic surprises (a synthesized zurna sound in "Emporte-moi," for example) that will continue on tour. He is also preparing an album of original songs, his first since 2020, after many compositions for film and collaborations with other artists. He writes songs of love and dance, at a time when Lebanon and the world are experiencing such dark times. Perhaps this is yet another lesson from Christophe: to love and sing "in this crumbling luxury."

After nearly two years, Okonski returns with Entrance Music — an album that finds the trio at the height of their improvisational prowess and celebrating the spontaneous and meditative. On the heels of 2023’s debut Magnolia, pianist and leader Steve Okonski has reconvened long-time musical collaborators (Durand Jones and the Indications bandmate Aaron Frazer on drums and bassist Michael Isvara “Ish” Montgomery) for another session in the spirit of artists like the Bad Plus, Gerald Clayton, and The Breathing Effect. Ultimately Entrance Music serves as an invitation to early hours, where songs linger in the doorway, announcing their presence before returning to the air, in a meticulous drift into the next.
Recorded over a five day session, Entrance Music was one of the first albums committed to tape at Portage Lounge, Terry Cole’s studio in Loveland, OH. “It was a new setup, but with Terry behind the dials it was very familiar,” says Okonski. “I can’t emphasize enough how much Terry feels like a fourth member of the band because of the space he’s curating, the energy he is bringing, and the production ideas.” The energy and sound created with the Colemine labelhead at the helm makes for a listening experience equally at home with ECM or Stones Throw catalogs.
From the rippling notes of the pastoral opener, “October,” Entrance Music is lush with anticipation, both band and listener feeling the tension in the tranquility — where the interplay of jazz improvisation and boom bap beats never shortchanges the musicianship but the talent is ever in service of the song.
While the band does not play together as often as they would like, not much time is needed for the three to lock in. Montgomery’s bass opening to “Passing Through” bends and moves with a singular meditative grace before piano and percussion joins the daylight filling a room with breath and light. If Magnolia resonated with last calls and late nights, Entrance Music counters with early mornings and first cups of coffee.
Whereas much of the debut resonates with his time in New York, Entrance Music “feels a little less ‘on the streets at 2 A.M.’ and a little more nature-based…a little more ethereal,” says Okonski. “It’s definitely age, environment, and family — all of that does come through in the music.”

You have to wonder why Railcard took so long to be born: their debut album feels like it should have been in your collection for years.


But it wasn’t until 2025 that Rachel Love (Dolly Mixture), Ian Button and Peter Momtchiloff (both Heavenly) met at a gig, realised that they were exactly the same age, and decided that this was an excellent reason to form a new band. The shared history, the same pop references, the parallel lives… Railcard had to happen, and there was no time to lose. Two Steps At A Time - the album title and theme song - express exactly how quickly Railcard have worked since then - jumping over pavement cracks and whistling past graveyards to get these songs written, recorded and released while they are still sweet and fresh.


The band released three digital EPs in early 2026, which were then gathered onto a CD and released by Skep Wax and Slumberland. They sold out very quickly. The critical response to a mail-order-only CD was far greater than anyone expected.


Railcard made their live debut in December 2025 and had by then recruited their fourth member: Allison Thomson (Trash Can Sinatras, The Love Band), whose flawless trumpet and swirly keyboard-playing complete the Railcard sound, allowing the band to fulfil the significant ambition and range of the songs, which are mostly co-written and often co-sung by Love and Button. “Flannelette” and “Sunday Sun”, delicate and swoony, could almost be Slapp Happy at their most Bacharach. “Foxy”, mysterious and charming, has more than a hint of Kate Bush December magic. The raucous duet “I’m A Disaster” is The Kinks meets deadpan Shangri-Las. The title track could have been an alternative theme tune for Whatever Happened To The Likely Lads. “Runaround” is like a school choir doing The Raincoats. “Unstable Neighbour” is mesmerising and insistent: it might make you think of Stereolab; we might imagine an indiepop Hawkwind. Peter Momtchiloff also contributes two wonderful songs on the album: the fragile and hallucinatory “Paper Thin” and the Love-meets-Undertones rush of “Hillman Minx”.


As with the first EPs, Railcard enlisted the sonic services of Medway psych expert Allan Crockford (of The Prisoners, James Taylor Quartet and many more) who has delivered mixes that pump with vintage valve energy and reverby depth.


Railcard have a string of UK dates through the summer and Autumn.

Could it be that the world is finally ready for the tempestuous folk-rock opera that is "All the Leaves are Gone?" In 2004, only the truly informed and forward-thinking heads "got" this mini masterpiece. Critics scratched their heads and usually resorted to comparisons of past artists, like ol Grace Slick and her Great Jefferson Society, Fairport Convention (but which era? SURELY Judy Dyble's early reign?), and at best, Shirley Collins. A few fans attempted to connect the record to even more obscure "freak folk/rock" like Mellow Candle, Fear Itself, or Trees. "All the Leaves are Gone" was made by unique personalities not concerned with influences or copying any bygone era. Surely, some things are in our DNA or even early childhood, as Josephine Foster's roots in opera manifest themselves as much as any other influence in this organic song cycle. Sure, guitarist Brian Goodman may have heard Richard Thompson before, but his alchemical and molten guitar spray is purely his own, in tunings and intervals still not meant for normal humans to understand, mostly because his 2004 guts were poured into every sublime note (I think even Brian himself never even understood how good he was). That fiery emotion is also in every nuance of Foster's songs--like life, there's disquieting, jagged moments of unease, and there's calm both before and after the storm. There are moments of utter gentleness along the journey---because yes, every concept album should be a voyage, and this is one everyone should take. - Steve Krakow.

“An amazing new project…” Tony Minvielle, Jazz FM

“A lush, heatwave-friendly piece of dancefloor innovation…” Clash Magazine


First Word Records is delighted to bring you the debut EP from Ships of the Pharaohs.


Ships of the Pharaohs are a London-based collective led by producer Last Nubian, who’s had releases in his own right on labels like CoOp Presents, Eglo Records & Touching Bass. Blending jazz, soul, bossa nova, d&b and house-influenced grooves, the band also consists of vocalist Achanté, keys player Goldbar & bassist, Dougan.

The 7-track EP kicks off with the high-energy, vitamin D-saturated lead single ‘Sun is Rising’, featuring the guest vocals of brilliant Berlin-based singer Red Bird, who appears on three tracks on this project (‘For You’ and ‘Seasons’). ‘Can’t Quit’ follows on a smooth soulful house/bruk tempo, and invites in the thought-provoking spoken word prose of AKEEM. ‘Seasons’, ‘For You’ and recent single ‘Joys’ add another element to the band’s eclectic take on fusion, leaning heavily into the bossa side of the quartet’s influences. The latter track sees Achanté’s soulful harmonies gracefully float across a warm bed of keys, percussion, guitar picks & synth strings. We take a short jazzy breather on the ‘Interlude’ cut, featuring the resplendent sax of multi-talented Norwegian artist, Bror Havnes, who also features on the outro cut ‘One’ - this one seeing the crew ride out with a sonic salute to jungle/d&b, closing this first opus from the group with the energy levels remaining high.

Tre Wright (aka Last Nubian) explains “Our debut EP is a reflection of who we are, both individually and as a collective. Drawing inspiration from jazz, jungle, bossa nova, house, r&b and the music that's shaped us, we've explored our own interpretation of these sounds and how they come together in a way that feels true to us. It gave us the space to experiment without boundaries, trust our instincts, and create something that genuinely reflects where we are creatively right now.”


Originally conceived to perform Last Nubian material live for a Touching Bass showcase at We Out Here festival in 2023, the project soon took on a life of its own, as the group effort unleashed a unique chemistry & sound of its own merit. Thereafter followed numerous sessions in a studio-converted bedroom of a Brixton flat, developing this new sound. The finishing touches were taken care of at the infamous Total Refreshment Centre in North London, resulting in the formation of captivating new original material, which appears across this first extended release.

Ships of the Pharaohs have additionally performed live across London at Brick Lane Jazz Festival, House of KOKO, Jazz on Wick Festival, Peckham Levels, 91 Living Room & GROW in Hackney. Developing their powerful stage presence has gone hand in hand with the creation of their own material.

The initial singles from this project received praise & support from a variety of DJs, press outlets & tastemakers from the worlds of jazz, soul and clubland, including Shy One (NTS), Tony Minvielle (Jazz FM), Rohan Rakhit (Worldwide FM), Somewhere Soul & Clash Magazine to name a few.


With sonics somewhat reminiscent of Acid Jazz legends Incognito, merged with the class of Nuyorican Soul, and the dynamic fluidity of 4Hero, the 4-piece have cooked up a set of style & flavours uniquely their own, fresh for modern dances, incorporating organic improvisation with more contemporary club sounds.

The Ships of the Pharaohs are about to set sail for what is sure to be an exciting journey ahead.

‘Part 1’ will be released on 12” vinyl & all digital platforms on September 18th 2026.

Like a pelican spotting its moment, Dimitri Andreas returns with a collection shaped by patience, precision and instinct.

Pelican marks a new chapter for a respected figure in underground electronic music. While recent years saw Andreas immersed in theatre productions, immersive audio experiences and multidisciplinary artistic projects, his fascination with rhythm, space, tension and emotion never left. It simply found different forms.

On Pelican, those worlds converge.

Across five original productions, Andreas distills the elements that have long defined his sound: hypnotic grooves, organic percussion, tribal influences, rich atmospheres and a deep sense of movement. The title track glides on suspense and anticipation, while Omenica and Mahu explore the groove driven territory that has become synonymous with his name. Cambolisa delivers a powerful melodic payoff, and Ember closes the journey with vintage synth warmth and restless energy.

The release is completed by three outstanding remixes from artists whose influence on contemporary electronic music is undeniable. Deetron reshapes Pelican into a deep and sophisticated techno excursion, Extrawelt transforms it into a cinematic and evolving voyage, while Petar Dundov expands Cambolisa into an emotional and atmospheric journey of his own.

Following a series of acclaimed MOVE Recordings releases supported by DJs including Sven Väth, Timo Maas, Jamie Jones and Fedele, Pelican arrives as a body of work shaped by years of exploration beyond the confines of club culture.

Rather than revisiting the past, Andreas brings those experiences back to the dance floor: music with patience, depth and perspective. Pelican is the sound of an artist returning not to where he started, but with everything he discovered along the way.

Already Supported by Laurent Garnier, Alexi Delano, Âme, Ilario Alicante, Just Her, Adriatique, Karotte, Danny Howells, Drumcomplex, Paco Osuna, Steve Parry, Marco Bailey, Alex Neri, Pole Folder, Amand, Calao, Neon, Gay Barone, ….

Limited White Vinyl edition of ‘Car Button Cloth’, featuring Lemonheads classics ‘If I Could Talk I’d Tell You’ and ‘The Outdoor Type’. Celebrating the album’s 30th anniversary, this reissue includes the original record + a collection of rarities and unreleased cuts (download only), continuing Fire Records in-depth series of reissues from the legendary band.


‘Car Button Cloth' is an extraordinary affair of musical and emotional extremes, a soundscape spanning “the most beautiful piano-led mourning in the history of the broken heart” that switches into perky jangle-pop for fleeting moments and contains the ultimate self-deprecating classic ‘The Outdoor Type’, penned by Smudge cohort Tom Morgan, as well as a cover of the bluegrass standard ‘Knoxville Girl’ and ‘If I Could Talk I’d Tell You’ co-written with The Vaselines’ Eugene Kelly. All bases are covered.

As has been the case with a number of releases on Punctuality so far, Echo Chambered has already gained notoriety as a sleeper hit for those in the know. Fans of Evan Baggs and Rey Colino’s Radar stream from Dekmantel 2025 will instantly recognise Carousel, pulled from a white-label dubplate about half an hour into the set. Fast forward nine months and a flood of track ID requests later and PNCT011 is finally here: five expertly crafted rollers from a modern master of the craft, Bliss Inc.

It’s easy to see why there has been so much demand for Carousel. Its earworm vocal, delicate percussion programming, undulating low end and spacey sound design land it squarely in the sweet spot between the minimal, progressive and contemporary tech house that so many
diggers are seeking out.

While the A1 is an undeniable hit, each track truly sounds like a hard-to-find early 2000s gem—the kind of record a Discogs shark will flip for extortionate rates. Why? Maybe it’s the rolling basslines, the understated grooves, the organic but club-ready percussion, the vocal samples or the cerebral FX.

Maybe it’s the mature, floor-focused arrangements, or the way Bliss Inc. nods to different corners of the dance music spectrum while maintaining a distinct signature. Or more simply, perhaps it’s because each track is an expertly constructed club tool —built for DJs, but just as rewarding for listeners.

However you want to hear it, Echo Chambered has all the markings of a Punctuality classic. With all five tracks doing damage in equal measures, you know what to do…