Slacker and Seth Troxler presents He Ain’t Here. 15 tracks by Slackers for Slackers. All exclusives.
Featuring exclusive music from: Seth Troxler, O.bee & Tomas Station, Audion, Jonny Rock, Dr Dunks, Krystal Klear, Marc Houle, Hiroko Yamamura and more. This is our dysfunctional family – and this will get weird.
Seth Troxler:
"When I created Slacker I wanted to make something to remind me of my youth in the ’90s. Being born in ’85, the ’90s was a decade that defined me. Culturally America was at a pivotal point. Post Reaganism of the ’80s, the ’90s was defined by the anti-hero. The idea that we had had enough. From grunge to hip hop, house and techno.
"This was the time of independence and indie music. Life without boundaries. A world where everything felt possible and a belief that the future was coming. Home game consoles, futuristic new sports like the X Games. It was about being radical. Living life on the edge and turning away from the imaginary cookie cutter American dream.
"I feel we are in similar times. The future we were promised every day seems more like a nightmare than a utopian dream. And all we have left are our minds and bodies, but who knows how long our freedom to be an individual will exist.
"This compilation is protest – from fight songs to moments of joy. It’s about living, dancing and being. It’s for the freaks, perverts, for the rebels, for those who forever were other, and dared the impossible to just be themselves in a world where everyone wants to be the same. The revolution will not be televised because it’s within ourselves. It’s about being unapologetically individual.
"Freedom is a state of mind as well as a state of being. Being a slacker is as much about pushing, as it is about being. Not giving a f#ck about the rules and making your own. I’m a slacker, you’re a slacker, a loser and nobody. History will forget me, history forgot Elvis.
"The world is about to change. Might as well have a bit of fun while it burns. Welcome to our dysfunctional family. Join us for the bonfire, I promise you things are going to get weird, in the best possible way. HE AIN’T HERE."
Last year, Downside Up chief Brandon De Carlo aka BDC decided to bring the label to vinyl following a decade of digital-only releases. Release number one, which is finally available worldwide, naturally comes from the man himself. It's the first EP in his ongoing A Thousand Cuts series, which to date includes a quartet of digital missives. It offers a neat summary of his trademark sound, a blend of heady deepness, sonic grit, focused rhythms and an overall sense of tension-and-release. On side A, the muscular, raw and hypnotic 'Funny How Things' is backed by the deeper and wonkier 'Peer Pressure', while the flipside sports warped techno jacker 'Shell Of My' and weirdo ambient soundscape 'Uncommon Courtesy'.
Almost 20 years on, Washington-based Drew Sullivan's 2007 debut as Slow Dancing Society hasn't dated the way you'd expect. The Sound Of Lights When Dim is a reserved work with reverberating guitar drifting through broad, unhurried tones. On opener 'Be There' reversed guitar and blurred vocal traces dissolve before they resolve on 'The Delicate Sound Of Silence.' It's deeply emotional ambient with endless oceanic scale and plenty of encouragement to reflect on your own. The glowing synths, patient guitar work and preoccupation with memory that would define Sullivan's next two decades are all present from the start and still have the same lasting impact.
Anyone who has had the sheer pleasure of seeing and hearing Leroy Burgess perform in concert will know just how amazing the live renditions of his iconic compositions of Disco Boogie hits and classics sound with a full band and a fully fueled audience. Accompanied by the ten piece French band and long time Leroy Burgess collaborative outfit Saving Coco, BBE Music is releasing live versions of two of those classics Let’s Do It and Big Time. Recorded and released by Rick James in 1980 Big Time is an absolute killer of a track that sounds so fresh decades later in this crowd energising performance. Famously released by Convertion Let’s Do It was a huge club hit in the early 1980s and is the perfect track to accompany Big Time on this release. Leroy Burgess is a certifiably genuine legend of Black music; his compositions have moved dancefloors across the world since the early 1970s as a member of Black Ivory, then Convertion, Paradise Garage favourites LOGG, Kleer and electro outfit Aleem. His collaborations with Patrick Adams, Inner Life, Dazzle and solo artists such as Eddie Kendricks, Rick James and Fonda Rae have cemented Leroy Burgess’ place in the annals of Black Music History. As a founder-member of the Universal Robot Band he co-wrote the massive perennial favourite Barely Breaking Even. Leroy Burgess feat. Saving Coco-Big Time/Let’s Do It is released as a 12″ vinyl and digital download and definitely belongs in the ‘make sure you get this’ category. Mixed by Marc Mac and mastered at the Grammy-nominated Carvery Studio by Frank Merritt. Available as 12″ vinyl and digital download. Release date September 25th, 2026
New York-based Japanese jazz and electronic music polymath Takuya Nakamura presents his debut album Shape The Future - almost 35 years into his storied musical journey.
An expansive double album, the album’s first LP documents a spellbinding live performance by Nakamura recorded at fabric. A hybrid set combining DJing, live electronics, vocals, and trumpet, the set also features studio versions of special collaborations with Shigeto, Currency Audio and Tim Reaper. The second LP complements the first by assembling studio recordings of select album tracks. Altogether the two volumes make for a definitive display of Nakamura’s exceptional musicianship across jazz, DnB, jungle, broken beat, deep techno and more.
Across his career, Nakamura has played Brazilian music, merengue, salsa and straight-ahead jazz. He’s opened for Sun Ra Arkestra, performed with David Byrne, Laurie Anderson, Lee “Scratch” Perry, Wu-Tang Clan, and Arto Lindsay, appeared on sessions with Terry Riley, ASAP Rocky, Goldie, and TV On The Radio, and remixed the likes of Quincy Jones, Sun Ra, Billie Holiday, and The Streets. He’s also played under director and playwright Robert Wilson.
Although the musical past and present of the Tokyo-born, New York-based DJ and trumpet player is undoubtedly eclectic, Nakamura is abidingly steeped in the sounds of jazz and jungle. This’ll be obvious to casual observers who may have seen any viral videos of him. But there’s more to this. The depth of Nakamura’s engagement with these kinds of music, the way they’ve made him into the person he is, the decades-long path they’ve taken him on; to now arrive at the summit of a solo album is all truly remarkable. Shape The Future resonates with every chapter in this story.
In high school, Nakamura’s friends started listening to jazz and jazz fusion, which piqued his interest, especially when they started going to clubs to see it live, where they managed to see US legends like Sonny Rollins play. Eventually he began to play jazz every day and his musical skill emerged early. He soon became obsessed with getting closer to the source of this music, which led to his studies at the New England Conservatory of Music in Boston with George Russell, an influential figure who had taught Miles Davis and John Coltrane. Nakamura drank it in: not only the technical aspects but the sense of a direct connection to “a music culture where Russell and his friends changed harmony forever. I wanted to know how that was possible!”.
This was a radical experience in itself, but then another revolution happened for Nakamura. He was playing in a venue called The Western Front, near Boston and discovered that the elderly owner had his own soundsystem and was playing what was then - in 1992 - only just becoming known as jungle. This was as freeing a musical revelation as his proximity to the giants of jazz was, and in that instant the two things fused. He understood that using technology to fill a dancehall with sound and a jazz musician’s reflexes are all working to the same ends: “You’re always making decisions,” he says, “but it doesn’t have to be really difficult. It’s the truth of the frequencies, and how they’re affecting people’s minds.”
From that moment on, his life path was set. Moving to New York City, he sought out jungle and its offshoot sounds wherever he could find them, gigging and collaborating relentlessly, and gradually developing his own live and hybrid live/DJ shows. Through regular appearances at New York fixtures Zebulon and CBGBs, and continual shows elsewhere in the city, Nakamura developed his live performance and DJing and it was in these environments that he gradually weaved together his twin loves without compromising either, building an international reputation in the process.
It’s only fitting then that his first album, almost 35 years after he first found his musical direction, should be a live one: a window into this never-ending process. Even here, he had to be persuaded that he should make a record. A member of the fabric team got turned on to his music after their daughter saw him play. Of course, as a jungle lover, Nakamura knew fabric – which has a special place in the history of jungle and drum’n’bass – and “had wanted to play there since I was very young.” You can hear the club in the record: this isn’t just a live show, in keeping with his jungle roots, it’s Nakamura duetting with the soundsystem, and you can feel how the emotions in the room would have ebbed and flowed.
This dynamic translates to a transfixing record. Setting the tone with lushly textured ambient and reverberant jazz, Nakamura segues into cinematic breakbeat and stellar fusion, infusing it all with intoxicating low end and hypnotic rhythms. The LP’s midway point locks into mesmeric percussion heightened by resonant echoes of piano and trumpet. There’s an endless pull to this music. Nakamura adjusts the levels for maximum impact throughout, and the overall effect begins to evoke some harmonious hybrid between a jazz ensemble, a classic Metalheadz 12” and a Theo Parrish DJ set. His electric form continues through surreal jazz, intricate electronics and rolling sub-bass velocity, right up to the subtly devastating final cover of Peter Gabriel and Kate Bush’s ‘Don’t Give Up’, with Nakamura’s fragile vocal sitting in the heart of a huge sound.
From Tokyo jazz nights to formative studies and encounters in Boston to his artistic development in New York, Nakamura reaches another milestone with his monumental debut album. It’s a release that happened just the way a Takuya Nakamura record should. In the same way his instincts led him to musical revelations, taking his own sweet time has led him to make one of the most extraordinary debut albums imaginable, all executed in his own singular style. In Nakamura’s world, the universe finds a way.
Hanne Lippard and Renato Grieco's Today's Special is a suite of language works synthesising melody and diction that integrates the literary and the audible in a repertoire of songs that bask in the melody of voice and the punctuations of structured composition. Working with methods of reduction rather than opulence in both tonal composition and rhetoric, each piece pegs the poetic to the musical with compositional schematics and methods. It is important to state that there is little to none improvisation here, instead, the duo set up matrices, rules and structural links that facilitated meaningful locus of exchange between their two practices. Lippard's texts are a collection of new and previously completed works. In these, as is typical for her work, she enjoys the easy pleasure of wordplay, iterative language, and decontextualised anecdote, as in opener Portrait of a Betrayal, a piece about the loss of a phone and the way it haunted the owner who dropped it, based on a lived experience. Grieco's instrumentation works with Lippard's language art as a form of acoustic typography. "I studied graphic design and I think about how you can express typography through voice," she says. "Renato's use of the viola da gamba becomes like an underline, or a font's brushstrokes, in ways that feel typographical." In this, the classically-trained composer Grieco often finds and echoes the pitch movements of Lippard's voice, intonation mirrored and revealed, linguistic meaning doubled and shadowed by plucked, strummed or bowed strings. His main instrument is the viola da gamba, the instrument considered closest to the human voice for its tonal range and ability to mimic inflections and timbre, and here he brings it even closer to the voice, building systems by which it moves with and around Lippard. He also plays piano and Wurlitzer, and joins her in speaking on Receiver and in conversation for final track The Black Rose. "Hanne's voice is an artist's voice, embodied as the artwork itself," he says. "But where my approach is from the perspective of a composer, hers is around rhetoric and language. We worked towards each other in this sense, Hanne finding a space to welcome my voice, and me designing an acoustic space to enhance her vocal persona." In some tracks the structural connections are obvious - the matched tumbling delivery and stepped pitches of voice and piano in Aficionado sounding like two tipsy friends descending a staircase. In others, like the triptych of tracks Three Rungs Ladder, structured with rules derived from nursery rhymes, or cumulative song (akin to the 12 Days of Christmas). For the Colour 1 and Colour 2 pieces, the duo worked from palettes of colours connected to clusters of harmonies, which underlined the power of the word and its articulation. The absurd Labradorable personifies a people pleaser, A Story About Being Blue is an imagined playful monologue from the Deep Blue supercomputer - requesting in sing-song stop motion to be called Debbie, and Larry - as Grieco echoes in factual reportage. Hurtbeat unpacks and recomposes a tweeted non-apology by a Russian art collector about owning a piece of racist art, Grieco shadowing Lippard's generating a third `drop-shadow' performer from the resonances between the duo, typographic re-articulation of the source material. The Receiver includes lines from Robert Ashley's Improvement (Don Leaves Linda), Ashley existing as a spiritual parent of sorts to the practices contained on Today's Special, and here interpolated as if he is being quoted and written through within the audible world of the piece in a palimpsest of borrowed sentences. Closing track The Black Rose contains its own self-aware comedy, a lightly distorted conversation sourced from a Reddit thread about whether black roses exist, recorded as if it were an internet radio or a low budget podcast, the casual exchange stilted in the delivery of platitudes as scripted speech. Today's Special was developed in person over the course of a series of small residencies - at Deutsche Akademie Rom Villa Massimo, Rome; Fondazione Morra, Napoli; Callie's, Berlin. In these limited periods that rarely stretched beyond a week, Lippard and Grieco developed strategies for the works, keeping tightly locked to musical concepts. This, for Grieco, is about maintaining a solid, meaningful connection within the compositions, and committing to everything having a purpose for existing within the work. Each element pulls its weight; has something to say, literally and metaphorically speaking. In the same way that Lippard's work leaves nowhere for her to hide, he wants the music to exist with its own naked purpose: "It's is about exposing nudity via reduced materials," says Grieco. "This is a form of courage we want to embrace. Once we take off everything, it needs to be extremely precise to maintain a connection with the audience. We have a lot of tools to hide behind now, to protect ourselves and our identities as artists, performers, and in life more generally. It's something I don't want to do. I want extreme reduction: no hiding."
Originally released in 2000 on Smalltown Supersound, Kim Hiorthøy’s first record Hei captures an artist who had made very little music before – yet it seemingly was the starting point of a musical career that would stay away from easy categorisation. Now, Hei (2026 Remaster) returns on blickwinkel, released digitally and on vinyl on 30 October 2026, as part of an ongoing series revisiting and reissuing Hiorthøy’s work.
Made in Copenhagen with little equipment — an Akai MPC2000, a stereo microphone and a DAT machine — Hei was assembled from samples, sequences and rhythms, with no outboard mixing or processing. Without really knowing what he was doing, the music was created intuitively while drawing inspiration from instrumental hip-hop he was listening to, the techno and drum & bass he admired but did not yet know how to make, and a broader fascination with music that felt personal, homemade and slightly uncertain of its own identity. Hei sits somewhere between those impulses. It is beat-driven without belonging entirely to beat music, experimental without announcing itself as such, but unmistakably coming from a playful series of events and decisions.
In that regard, the title of the closing track might be a fitting description of the album itself and, in hindsight, also of how we can look at Hiorthøy’s subsequent work. Taken from a story by Tove Jansson, the title evokes a state of openness and curiosity, a state where thoughts and impressions are simply given the space to unfold:
“He didn't care to get up, all day he let new images and ideas come and go as they pleased, now and then slept a little and woke up again and had no idea who he was. It was a peaceful and very exciting day.”
There is something of Hei in that state of mind: a willingness to follow an idea without knowing exactly where it might lead, a willingness to follow guts and the heart rather than ratio. Perhaps that is also what makes Hei still feel relevant today. As Hiorthøy puts it when reflecting on the music he made then and the music he makes now: “If I compare the music on Hei to music I’m making now, the general sentiment or smell or air or tree or pull of what I’m looking for and listening after when I work is, I think, for better or worse, more or less the same.”
All music by Kim Hiortøy
Mastered by Stephan Mathieu
Portraits by Kim Hiorthøy
Design by Jelle Martens
WHIMM formed around the shadowy heart of the Toronto post-punk underground over a decade ago. The partnership between Mounir Al Shami and Andrew Matthews has emitted sporadic musical shards over time, while slowly evolving into something so much bigger than its beginnings. Ideas seep out of every corner of No Promotion, showcasing a burning desire to explore and challenge while delivering very direct sonic offerings. The result is an album that feels as if you took the entire Coil discography and smashed it into pieces, assembling these precious songs from the fragments. Or as if Vangelis beckoned Section 25 to the studio in hopes of recording the score to a seedy film. The resulting LP is in a state of flux – equal parts motion and decay.
Patrick Flegel, of Cindy Lee, welcomed Al Shami and Matthews into REALISTIK Studios in Montreal to engineer half of the tracks for the album, including lending guitar to the opening track "Five in Decline." That influence is evident early on, as the first three songs are taken from those sessions. "Five in Decline" throbs and barks before racing through the hallways closing in around it. "Another Labour" slows to a spidery waltz as anxious melodies call out to one another. "Returnal" pulses, floats through the night sky and haunts you forever. "Rye" carves a percussive pathway toward similar travellers like Terry Riley and Jon Hassell, before the lament of "A Death Remembered" forms the perfect midpoint for the record. A slow build countered by twitching drums and blanketed by organs recorded at Metropolitan United Church in Toronto, it feels like emotion right on the edge of resolve.
"Rhymes of December" screeches through on a solitary train under the towering cityscape as the flickering lights blur past, its doors opening to the candlelit altar of "After the Last Sky" (those beautiful organs again) with an operatic swirl. "K'20" throws you into a claustrophobic and chaotic cab ride (Who is talking? Are those sirens?) until you finally find the quiet of the early morning, waiting at the window for the sun to join you once again as the first notes of "No Promotion" are delicately plucked. The final song from the Flegel sessions, it is over eight minutes of contemplative beauty. A restless heart that is ready to rest. Closing with a final apparition in the key of The Caretaker, "After the Last Sky (Reprise)" is a return to melody when words lose all meaning.
Al Shami and Matthews weave their lyrics throughout, words describing a search for lucidity, and of reactions and reflections. Al Shami – speaking from the Palestinian diaspora – ruminates on displacement, both personal and collective. His journey from having "been without a land and I can still see clearly" in "Rhymes of December" to a more defiant "we will be back again, no matter how it ends or where we've been" in "Returnal" takes a very insular turn on No Promotion. That sense of alienation pulls at the very center of a relationship when land and circumstances separate: "And after our last breath, all that's left in me is our flesh and fears, your last words would swim for years, you'll never find a home in me." Hearts on the outskirts that know the direction.
It’s Italian time! Sam Ruffillo is back. Sicilian producer doing smooth Balearic disco with Italian vocals. The direction is clear: Sam Ruffillo's music brings us back into the Italian riviera and the hippy days of Ibiza in the late 1970ies. Even his way of production is similar to how the early days disco producers in Italia used to work: No samples needed. Instead a few guest musicians come to jam over Sam's beats in his Italian studio space. Guitar, bass, percussions. Sam later makes the production and added keyboard solos and put together the vibes into what is this new EP.
The girl voice comes from NINFA. It’s the classic studio story: Ninfa is a singer and DJ and friend of Sam. She was hanging at the studio while Sam was finishing these tracks. She stated to sing along... the words came up spontaneously… so they decided to record her and finally decided to keep them. The vibe was too good. Why talk English if u can do it better: in Italian! :)
This is second for Toy Tonics after his Sport House EP from last year. Sam also appeared on the solo record of Joel Holmes on Toy Tonics. Together with Kapote Modica he co-produced and made the beats on that record. Now Sam is back with this pure Italian EP. Inclusive remixes by new German artists Gome and Italian Musemeci - known to many from his fabulous Italo-trance releases on Diynamic records.
SELN Recordings is proud to present Sillons, the debut release from French musician Pierre François.
Straight from Nantes with love and sadness; Sillons is the soundtrack to being shut inside and sheltered from all the dread beyond your bedroom door. What may at first appear as a collection of abstract loops unravels into something much greater throughout its entirety.
Underneath a thick atmosphere of tape hiss and crackle, minimal synth explorations emerge and float away while the occasional guitar-esq riff ebbs in and out of the foreground like waves at the shore. Percussive refrains come through with perfect timing, their occasional rudimentary timbre all in the spirit of ‘do it yourself magique’.
Picture the following: it’s been decades and you’ve forgotten how to communicate with the world outside, all you have left are message-songs which leave behind a story of what it was like to be separated from everything you’d ever known during an existential sabbatical. This is very near to the audio experience that Sillons gives and thus makes it so real. On this merit alone François deserves his flowers.
Even the shortest of songs manage to conjure up visceral imagery. For example ‘Abouile’, with an impressive runtime of 51 seconds, dives straight into the eeriest corners of a Cold-War era ‘Numbers Broadcast’ being sent out from malfunctioning military personnel venturing off into the depths of their consciousness.
All in all there is something distinctly ambitious and positive within Francois’ work. It takes you to a place where little else matters except the mood and feeling the music provides, a hopeful and emotive landscape.
Legendary Children (All of Them Queer)" is a celebrated 1994 dance-pop track by former Frankie Goes to Hollywood frontman Holly Johnson. The song acts as an upbeat LGBTQ+ historical roll-call, honoring historical queer icons from Andy Warhol to Leonardo da Vinci, and was notably performed at London's Gay Pride in 1994. The song is based on the iconic Paris Is Burning and features the brilliant vocals of Helen Terry (Culture Club/2wo Third3).
Released on the album Soulstream, the song is famous for its spoken-word verses and euphoric chorus celebrating legendary figures like Oscar Wilde, Jean Cocteau, and Joe Orton. The overarching message is captured in its defiant lyric: "The answer is clear, they're all of them queer."
Now 2026 sees brand new versions by Luv Foundation (UK). George from the Sharp Boys, a dear friend of Holly's and Mark Loverush, mentioned to Holly that Luv Foundation (UK) should do the rework. Mark Loverush and Julian Napolitano wanted to capture as much of the original essence as possible, keeping that 90s flavor while giving the remix a big, classic feel reflective of how it would sound today.
This is a limited edition of 700 pink vinyl, including 2 of the original versions alongside 2 remixes by Luv Foundation (UK). It comes in brand new artwork by Philip Marshall.
It’s a rare occurrence for a band to continue making music into their fifth decade, even fewer top off that achievement with one of their most recent albums being named one of “2023’s Best Albums” by a venerable magazine like SPIN. But The Church did just that with The Hypnogogue, an album so adored by critics and fans alike that it ushered in an entirely new era for the Australian band.
Now armed with their 28th album Lacuna, the psychedelic dreampop legends continue to evolve and transform, remaining not only relevant but consistently delivering music that is innovative yet true to their signature sound. “Intense, forlorn, and exultant,” is how bassist/vocalist/founder Steve Kilbey describes the album.
With a measured command of melody and instrumentation that only comes with experience and age, it’s an album rife with indelible musical clasps that fasten hold of your attention and refuses easy surrender. It’s a steadfast talent that Kilbey hosts close to his chest that’s been ever-present in the 27 albums that preceded it (best evidenced by the jubilant, nearly sold out 2025-2026 Singles Tour legs across Australia and North America, featuring night after night of incredible three-hour sets).
Starting in 1980, The Church continued expanding their highly cinematic and atmospheric blend of indie rock, shimmering post-punk, icy dreampop and psychedelic post-rock without retreading their steps. Beginning with classic early albums Of Skins and Heart, The Blurred Crusade, and Heyday which built a sturdy foundation, 1988’s Starfish broke into the mainstream and gave The Church the international hit “Under the Milky Way.” The hit single has been regarded as one of the most influential and recognizable Australian rock anthems of all time.
You are Spring!" beginnt mit einer gewundenen Klangwand, A-cappella-Stimmen, die sich in üppiger Harmonie überlagern und den halb-titelsgebenden Frühling besingen. Sofort entführt uns Tasha aus dem tristen, grauen Winter in eine Welt voller Bilder und Empfindungen von neuem Leben. Stell dir vor: ein Feuerwerk aus glockenförmigen Blüten; Rosa, Citrin und Buttergelb; der Himmel klar, eine Lunge voll Blau; Wärme, überall, die die über den Winter geheilte Haut küsst und sich nach Berührung sehnt; Leichtigkeit nach dem Leiden; ein tiefer Atemzug nach dem Ersticken. "Don't die now / There's life to be found now,", beginnt sie. In Texten, die von Gwendolyn Brooks' Gedicht "To The Young Who Want To Die" inspiriert sind, formuliert Tasha die These dieses Albums mit exquisiter Präzision. Es gibt Jahreszeiten der Härte, Jahreszeiten der Schwierigkeit, ja. Aber hier, in diesem Album, meditieren wir über den Frühling über eine Zeit des Feierns, die umso süßer ist, weil wir wissen, was man ertragen muss, um dorthin zu gelangen. "Alive now / It's spring now / Alive now / You're spring now" schließt sie, getragen von den samtigen Stimmen von Jamila Woods und Taja Cheek von L'Rain, die auf diesem Track zu hören sind, und lädt uns in die paradiesische Schatzkiste ein, die sie hier geschaffen hat. Für Tasha ist der Frühling ein Ort, an dem wir ankommen, aber auch ein Zustand, in dem wir uns befinden, eine Art, wie wir geworden sind. Wenn sie darüber spricht, was das Album ihrer Hoffnung nach vermitteln soll, erläutert sie die Bedeutung von "You Are Spring!" weiter und sagt: Es ist eine Art zu sagen, dass du das bist, worauf sich andere Menschen freuen; du bist das, worauf wir warten; du bist das Schöne." Wenn es im vorherigen Album um Sehnsucht ging, darum, sich nach einer Fülle zu strecken, von der du weißt, dass sie kommt, dann ist "You are Spring!" eine Gelegenheit, innezuhalten und alles in dich aufzunehmen, sobald du in deine Fülle eingetreten bist. Das heißt, You Are Spring!" ist in seiner Aufmerksamkeit für die Glückseligkeit so eindringlich wie sein Ausrufezeichen, aber es hat auch einen klaren Blick auf die Welt um sich herum. Die zweite Hälfte des Albums bewegt sich auf diesem schmalen Grat zwischen Wonne und Untergang. Sieh dir zum Beispiel "Actor" an und seine Auseinandersetzung mit den Gesten, die wir in einer Liebe machen, die hohl geworden ist, gefolgt von Special" und seinem aufwendig arrangierten Klangteppich, komplett mit Tashas Klarinetten-Debüt. Im letzten Titel, Quick!", steigt Tashas Stimme in einer fast Stephen-Sondheim-artigen Tonfolge empor und drängt uns singend: "Quick! See how this beauty rushes by?" Es gibt Dissonanzen im Klimpern der Akkorde, das Keuchen ihrer Finger, die über den Gitarrenhals gleiten, eine raue, fast wie von einer Kassette klingende Qualität der Produktion, wieder von Gregory Uhlmann. Aber wir werden noch nicht aus dem Garten vertrieben; der Song klingt langsam aus, zurück in den Glockenblumenhain von Tashas sanftester Stimmlage. "You Are Spring!" fordert uns heraus, uns an unserer Gegenwart zu erfreuen, uns selbst als die lang ersehnte Jahreszeit des neuen Lebens und Wachstums zu sehen. Und wenn der Winter wiederkommt, wie er es immer tun muss, die Trauer sich einschleicht, Herzschmerz vor der Tür steht, gibt Tasha uns etwas, an dem wir uns festhalten können. Die Gewissheit, dass der Frühling wiederkommen wird, selbst dann. Dass die Schönheit und Fülle, die uns jetzt umgibt, uns wieder umgeben wird, noch einmal.
God of War is Douglas Dulgarian (They Are Gutting A Body Of Water), Scott Turner (hooky) and Sam Silbert (hooky, circle of fire).
It's 2007. You’re watching your older cousin play SSX tricky. How is he such a monster at this game. Dude for real what the fuck. Such style, such finesse. I know he smokes weed. Should I tell Aunt Vicky? No no no- that would ruin this moment. He is racking up points that were formerly unheard of, and with such grace. There’s no expression on his face. And considering that he just sat open mouthed at the dinner table staring into nothing for forty minutes, this revelation is more than remarkable. It seems as if he has always existed in this moment. As if his very essence was plucked from the ether. And perhaps he has. He was made for this moment.
God of War is Douglas Dulgarian (They Are Gutting A Body Of Water), Scott Turner (hooky) and Sam Silbert (hooky, circle of fire).
It's 2007. You’re watching your older cousin play SSX tricky. How is he such a monster at this game. Dude for real what the fuck. Such style, such finesse. I know he smokes weed. Should I tell Aunt Vicky? No no no- that would ruin this moment. He is racking up points that were formerly unheard of, and with such grace. There’s no expression on his face. And considering that he just sat open mouthed at the dinner table staring into nothing for forty minutes, this revelation is more than remarkable. It seems as if he has always existed in this moment. As if his very essence was plucked from the ether. And perhaps he has. He was made for this moment.
MALEDICTUS is a Portuguese metal band formed in Lisbon. Bringing together experienced musicians with a shared vision, the band creates dark, powerful and atmospheric heavy music. With a foundation of aggressive riffs, haunting melodies and emotional vocals, the band blends modern heavy metal with darker, more melodic influences.
The group was formed by musicians seeking to explore a heavier and more expressive sound, combining technical musicianship with compelling songwriting and a cinematic atmosphere. Their music strikes a balance between intensity and melody, moving between crushing guitar passages, dynamic rhythms, and dramatic vocal performances. ""Our music reflects who we are and how we process life and our own emotions. Music is life manifested through an artist's soul. We all process life with a sense of dark melancholy”, comments guitarist Ben Stockwell. As history has taught us, Portuguese metal bands are known for their melancholic sound, which reflects their cultural identity.
Since their formation, MALEDICTUS has been focused on creating music that reflects the darker and more emotional aspects of the metal genre. Drawing inspiration from classic and contemporary metal acts, the band aims to create a sound that feels familiar yet distinct, appealing to fans of powerful, atmospheric metal.
Boasting a line-up of seasoned performers and a clear artistic vision, MALEDICTUS is developing new material and establishing its presence in the Portuguese metal scene and beyond. Their debut album, „Lazarvs“, is set to be released on Friday 13th of November. The album title draws heavily on the biblical story of Lazarus in the Gospel of John, in which Jesus performs the great miracle of raising his deceased friend Lazarus from the dead after he had been in the tomb for four days.
With Rez on vocals, the band has an exceptional singer with a distinctive, powerful voice. „He is undoubtedly one of the best out there having power, soul, range and timbre. Everything fits perfectly with our sound. We couldn't have asked for a better voice or frontman"", says the guitarist. Rez’s lyrics are another perfect addition to the band's dark, epic and partly progressive sound. The lyrical themes focus on life's darkest moments. „Death brings an opportunity for renewal, as do our most difficult struggles, which require part of us to die in order to be overcome.
Yr Knives is a Chicago instrumental quartet built around two very different guitar voices. The band came together sideways: composer Paul Karner wanted guitarists Andrew Trim and Brian Sulpizio to play disparate parts on a recording of his own, and when the two finally rehearsed together, a band fell into focus. Trim leads the groups Hanami and Retroreflector; Sulpizio is the constant behind Health and Beauty. Anchoring them are two Chicago mainstays, bassist Douglas McCombs (Tortoise, Eleventh Dream Day) and drummer Quin Kirchner. Two of them come up as rock and roll players, two as jazz players, and the music lives in how closely they listen across those languages.
Their debut, Begin Yr Singing, centers on two overdriven guitars merging into something neither could produce alone, over a rhythm section that can lock a groove or let it drift. The result is exploratory but grounded, "a searching music," in Trim's words, that asks questions it doesn't always answer and shifts from one performance to the next. Recorded live in a single room at Chicago's Palisade studio with Nick Broste engineering and mixed by Cooper Crain with Sulpizio, the six tracks draw on Sonny Sharrock, Neil Young and Crazy Horse, Albert Ayler, Erik Satie, and Television. The band has toured supporting The Messthetics.
Alveromancy is a method of divination performed by attending to and interpreting certain sounds, so that the loudness of sound is taken to indicate the severity of predicted event and from its proximity how soon the event will come to pass.
The label’s first divination session is made up of 4 selected cuts originally composed between 1994 and 1996 coming from Fred Exelby’s archives, bringing his All Broken solo project back to a renewed life more than 30 years after his last release.
Rooting its core into Canada’s 90s DIY electronic scene and drawing inspiration from themes such as anti-pop culture, shared knowledge, music programming and his formative frequentation of the seminal Rivoli in Toronto, this record might also be seen as a picture in time, a reflection of Fred’s world back then.
It's hard to pin down the age of chest's music, as it seems to be in a state of constantflux - a fusion of spontaneous energy and timeless electricity. The band didn't choose this name by chance: for years, its members have been breathing music through every pore of their bodies; they bonded amidst the darkness and vibrations of Supersonic, the heart of the independent music scene in Paris, where they met and have all worked. Even before releasing a single record,chest. were spotted by NME,which ranked them among the 100 to follow last year in 2025. A debut EP in February 2025, All Good Things End (Howlin Banana), further boosted the band's credibility and international popularity at breakneck speed. chest. opened for DITZ, Jehnny Beth, Heavy Lungs and KNIVES, who welcomed them with open arms onto a bustling Anglo-Saxon music scene. They're spotted at La Maroquinerie, Rock en Seine, ESNS and across the UK. chest. come of age without ever going through adolescence. In autumn 2025, chest. began recording their debut album at La Frette studio, known for having hosted sessions by Nick Cave and the Arctic Monkeys. The band, with a line-up featuring three sound engineers, self-produced the album there and opened themselves up to new inspirations without, however, straying from the powerful and melodic noise rock of their early days. Their sound becomes even more complex and personalised, revealing perfectly assimilated influences from industrial, techno and shoegaze. chest. embodies the future figurehead of a French rock scene that is no longer afraid of anything. A band capable of bringing people together without compromising their artistic standards.
As the thirteenth release on Guy J's Early Morning imprint, this three-track collection unfolds across 25 minutes and 9 seconds, exploring movement, emotion, and introspection through three distinct yet interconnected works.
The release opens with Secret Serv1ce, an uncompromising statement driven by a commanding beat, layered percussion, and psychedelic textures that blur the boundary between reality and abstraction. Its hypnotic momentum earns attention, reaffirming Guy J's command of both studio craftsmanship and musical skills.
At the centre of the release lies Placebo, the collection's longest work. Across nearly eleven minutes, it balances ethereal atmospheres with a meticulously engineered groove. Delicate electronic textures gradually give way to an irresistible melodicmotif that transforms the track's emotional landscape.
Closing the EP is My Existence, an intimate exploration of identity that reflects both the artist familiar to audiences around the world and the quieter dimensions hidden beneath the surface. Synthesizer interplay and forward-looking sound design converge into a navigation through unexplored emotional and sonic terrain while connecting memory, imagination, and rhythm into a unified whole.
With EARLY013, Guy J demonstrates how electronic music can remain both intellectually engaging and physically compelling, inviting listeners to lose themselves on the dance floor while discovering something deeper within the process.
GodSexy (the best unused track title in Prince’s sadly now dormant Future Titles notebook) throbs and bounces in all the right places. Positively sprightly whilst also oozing depth, it unveils itself layer after beautiful layer. In true Howells style, it sits alone and imperious in a world above and beyond mere genres, sonically cerebral yet simultaneously 100% dancefloor ready. Urgently uplifting, inspirationally intense.
Shut Down is House Heaven meets Danny Does Disco in characteristically off-kilter (and peerless) fashion. Driven by a twisted percussive loop and a seductive vocal sample, aided and abetted by hypnotically funky guitar licks and lush chords that duck and dive like the (original) Artful Dodger, it’s all about the tension between analogue evangelism and digital futurism.
Hotrocks, your bonus vinyl only offering, will have you heading through the door marked ‘Magic Black Plastic’ at a rate of techno-infused knots. This is serious heads down business, a rave monster, Joey Beltram and Patrick Cowley’s mystery lovechild. Blistering, breathless, bounteous, bloomin’ brilliant.
YARN welcomes René Audiard for its tenth release with "Makes Me Feel", a four-track EP from one of underground electronic music’s most singular voices.
Across years of dub techno, minimal and leftfield electronic experimentation, René has developed an approach to stripped-down music that feels anything but limited. Where minimalism can often become an exercise in taking things away, his work finds possibility in what remains. "Makes Me Feel" is a particularly fitting example: immersive, at times strange, but always full of feeling.
‘Lovin’ opens the EP in familiar Audiard territory: murky low-end, locomotive groove, reduced rhythmic compositions and an understated framework swimming in a pool of detail. 'Possession' lets in more light. Vocal echoes, persistent rhythms and occasional string phrases give it a cinematic quality, while a groove that seems to circle endlessly takes on an almost shamanistic pull. The EP’s 11-minute behemoth, 'Flesh', fills most of the release’s B-side while making a convincing case for patience and sophistication. There are echoes of minimal’s golden age here, but Audiard never mistakes repetition for standing still. Tiny rhythmic fragments sit alongside expansive orchestral gestures, with samples working at every scale of the arrangement. Warmth and cinematic drama run through the track, but it's the playful programming underneath that keeps it moving. 'Night' closes the record on a different note, recalling Audiard’s work with Ali Çakır in Düve. Percussive samples, accordion and Middle Eastern guitar phrases bring a more acoustic character to his reduced 808-infused broken beats, making for a playful, occasionally melancholic ending with a distinctly microtonal feel.
What makes René Audiard’s music so rewarding is how readily you recognize his hand in it. There is a particular grain to the sounds, a way of placing details within a groove, and a willingness to follow an idea wherever it leads. Across “Makes Me Feel”, those instincts give four quite different tracks a shared identity. Even when working within familiar forms, Audiard makes them sound entirely his own. It’s the holy grail of music production: a personal sound signature. And a thoughtful addition to YARN’s growing repertoire of reduced, sophisticated dancefloor music.
Dich lieb ich, Erde! trauerst du doch mit mir! Und unsre Trauer wandelt wie Kinderschmerz In Schlummer sich und wie die Winde Flattern und flüstern im Saitenspiele
The third stanza of Friedrich Hölderlin’s poem ‘Dem sonnengott’ evokes a narrator who is tortured by Spleen until slumber makes his childlike gloom disappear with music. Although today’s readers might judge these nineteenth century musings of the Imagination as mere stylistic platitudes, they also still speak beyond the grave as universal truths. A mere two hundred years later similar anxieties and hopes are still channeled through various art forms, with changing success and reverberation. Brannten Schnüre are one of those neo-romantic music experimentalists who add to a long tradition of celebrating folk tale and exoticism. Their meticulously crafted loops, hesitant melodies and heavily nostalgic lyricism could easily be translated to what the late philosopher and music critic Mark Fisher called ‘hauntology’, a postmodern longing for a lost future. To describe the beauty of ‘Geträumt hab’ ich vom Martinszug’, however, the term seems somewhat dissatisfying. Romanticism is a hard nut to crack in the Anthropocene, and Brannten Schnüre’s realms of the cerebral are too deeply ingrained in a German tradition of story telling to define them within popular paradigm.
‘Geträumt hab’ ich vom Martinszug’ was recorded in 2014 in Würzburg and functions as the autumn part of the band’s seasonal cycle quadrilogy (the other segments being ‘Aprilnacht’ (SicSic), ‘Sommer im Pfirsichhain’ (Aguirre) and ‘Durch unser zugedecktes Tal’ (Youdonthavetocallitmusic)). It deals with the Saint Martin’s parade, a mostly European tradition to celebrate the medieval spirit of Saint Martin of Tours, friend of children and patron of the poor. Around 11 November children come out on the streets with lanterns and sing ancient songs in exchange for sweets. It’s a period of snugness and expectation, of yearning and dreaming, and therefore a consummate subject for the duo to scrutinize.
To the adult’s ear the dream of the Saint Martin’s parade isn’t all that consolatory. The dark and slow loops of Christian Schoppik rather sound like motifs for a welcome paralysis. Sometimes as a gentle backdrop for vocals by Katie Rich and Schoppik himself, the repetitive structures serve as tricksters that trade innocence for the uncanny. The dream becomes a fever dream which quickly absorbs the listener into a vacuum, an eternal post-panic attack semi-relief. Maybe that’s the amazing paradox of Brannten Schnüre. The space they occupy is never comforting – as if being locked up inside a Carl Grossberg painting – but it’s also a subliminal aural zone you do not want to leave. It’s music as being, as a stream, devoid of climax or catharsis. And because it is flux and being, and exists to be taken, it speaks in art’s purest form. ‘In place of a hermeneutics we need an erotics of art’ Susan Sontag famously concluded her essay ‘Against Interpretation’ with. Well, look no further …
byt’ continues its eclectic journey with the third release in its catalogue. This chapter sees the return of Telva, shifting into a new frequency with a story born between 11.11 and a full Taurus moon back in 2024 in Berlin. The composition recorded in a single take, is articulated through a dreamy, electronic, minimal house, and vocal infusion. Left as romantic and unrestrained as the artist’s reverie, it is preserved in its raw form to protect its intimacy.
“Every record I make is a guide towards a better understanding of all that I can be. 11:11 is a fragment of a special spark I experienced, which peeled back another layer of myself enriched by the lessons along the way, until finally holding it in my hands today. What started as an epiphany on Heideglühen’s dance-floor unfolded into a kiss of destiny, a fleeting delirious love affair, and a quest of passion that hugged my memory, compelling me to revisit my early days. An endeavor of surrender, no matter how unknown, unconventional or uncertain it all may feel. To finally have the courage to let it be messy, raw and true, so that I stand naked once again, while daring to honor the absence of order as part of the magic and mystery of life.” - Telva
Sometimes things go quickly. After meeting Canadian artist Pascale Project early this year (twice in one month) on the same dancefloor of a crusty underground club in Neukolln, we sent this Berlin-based DJ and producer a short appreciation email to show curiosity and interest in her unreleased music. Our hope was to listen to it and maybe just maybe start a record-release project. Pascale sent back quickly, and she shared some fantastic club music with us. We had separate listens to the full playlist, and, funnily/coincidentally, we chose the same 4 tracks as highlights from the big playlist. One week later, Pascale emailed us back, mentioning the tracks she would feel/see/love to be released on the label, and they were the exact same ones we had naturally and unanimously chosen. Stars aligned for sure. Having long been active in the Montreal music scene, Pascale absorbed the essence of all her different experiences and years of training and creating, and then let it all start Sparkling into the 22nd Basic Moves release entitled "Watch EP". The record is based on the concept of losing and breaking things up, and eventually finding it all back. Reflecting hope in between the fog of life. It is clever modern underground club music rooted in the textures and energies of the golden days of progressive house, breakbeats and (real!) tech-house. These 4 tracks reflect an artist who expresses herself honestly, fully understands how to creatively arrange and produce club music, and never loses sight of the dancefloor, as she is often found on that dancefloor herself. Dive in and let us know what you think of it. We are stoked to play out and vibe on these tunes for real!
You'd be hard pressed to name a song with the driving, emotional intensity and raw energy of the Hamilton Movement's anthemic ode to heartbreak, "She's Gone." Issued as the B-Side of the band's 1976 single "We're Gonna Party," and distributed in and around Indianapolis, there is no evidence the song garnered significant attention upon release—yet over the past fifty years it has amased a cult of devotees across the globe. But while interest in the group's music remains strong, little information has surfaced about the Hamilton Movement's history, and until now, there have been no official reissues of their work. This collection presents the band's discography, alongside previously unreleased music discovered on tape; it is the Indianapolis soul album that should-have-been.
The keys to the Hamilton Movement's mystery can be found in central Indiana, where promoter Dick Melvin has lived the past few decades, in a rural suburb of Indianapolis, amidst forests and cornfields. Melvin served as the group's manager throughout their entire existence, but his involvement extended far beyond typical managerial duties. He co-wrote and co-arranged the band's music; he produced and released their recordings on his Look Out label. Dick is also the band's archivist. His home is filled with boxes of demo sessions, live tapes, contracts, posters, and promotional photos documenting his work with the Hamilton Movement. He entrusted his archive to Now-Again's care and they've assembled this album under his watch. Dick's story, and the story of his band, are presented in an extensive, oversized booklet with Dick's rarely-seen photos and ephemera and words by Now-Again's Egon and Naptown historian Kylie Long.
Somehow it feels fitting that 1+1 equals not only 11, but also the two slabs of vinyl carrying Henry Hodson’s music here. A small inside joke, perhaps, but also a sign of how naturally this record came together: instinctive and shaped with intention. Hodson — who first appeared on Limousine Dream and later with a subtle and beautifully controlled EP via Silky Beats — continues his trajectory between deep house warmth and minimal clarity. These six tracks are drawn with the sort of fine-grained rhythmic detail that rewards attention without ever demanding it. Light-footed percussion, elegant restraint, grooves that breathe. The double 12’’ format isn’t a gimmick; it’s a commitment. Each track gets the physical space and sonic depth it needs.
The universe of Muovo Musica is a world of its own, a sonic space where Dove Quiete has learned how to make us move while holding our hand. His upcoming EP, “Guardo La Luna EP.”, explores the artist’s different facets through an unpredictable journey where minimal techno is a constant presence, but far from enough to define the release. Moving between driving tools, ghetto tech influences and trip-hop atmospheres, the tracks naturally cross genres and blend different influences. Rhythm and experimentation coexist throughout a cohesive yet unpredictable EP, always keeping impact at its core.
Klara Lewis’ distinctive talent for disfiguring sound into forms that remain recognisably song-like reaches a new peak here. Her new album Opening is a deceptive recording with veiled melodies and clandestine bangers.
Lewis, creator of worlds, treats music as a mirror that reflects a perspective misaligned with the real image. Her music moves in unusual and often startling ways. Acoustic instruments such as ukulele and piano are subjected to processes of deconstruction and reconstruction, their original forms continually reshaped.
The tracks within Opening offer an array of disorientating tactics; damaged field recordings are suddenly sliced into ominous rhythmical patterns whilst deceptively simple tactics provide foreboding dread. Often alien on entry, the progression of a piece can land in a surprising tenderness, or the other way around. The momentum grows as a physical state but also one which is questioning, desiring, encapsulating a feeling, to explore a further way of expression and ultimately connecting: A new closeness, a new perspective.
Opening is an album in which the protagonist’s manipulation of sonic matter seems to extend beyond the music itself, resulting in a corresponding manipulation of the active listener. Sounds shift, dissolve, and re-emerge in altered forms, creating an experience that feels both intimate and disorienting. Lewis maintains a delicate balance between abstraction and emotional immediacy, drawing the listener into a world where familiar musical gestures are constantly reconfigured in surprising ways.
The works on Opening are refracted through an exploratory and transformative lens, suggesting an artist continuing to redefine the possibilities of musical language as a space where the instantaneous and the eternal come together.
Music by Klara Lewis. Mastered by Stephan Mathieu. Cut by Andreas Kauffelt at Schnittstelle, Berlin. Artwork by Klara Lewis. Design by Klara Lewis & Nik Colk Void. Images from ”En Masse” by Circa, directed by Yaron Lifschitz. Dancer Holly-Rose Boyer.
”Tide” commissioned for compilation album "Dissolving Strawberry" (2020), released by Irrlicht. ”Drip” and ”Feel” originally composed for the film ”Failed Emptiness” (2024) by Mika Taanila.
Carlos Benedetti, a Colombian house producer and live performer from Cali, has steadily become one of the standout names in today’s underground dance scene. Following multiple vinyl releases on the acclaimed German label Disco Disco, Benedetti’s productions have earned widespread praise and support from respected figures including deep house icon Cinthie.
Specialists, selectors and collectors alike have described his records with comments such as:
“fabulous 12-inch”
“This is the most wild dance record to come out this year so far”
“Cannot formulate the words to capture how this one sounds and makes me feel”
“Listen close and behold.”
With this latest EP for SUPREME STRIKER, Benedetti once again delivers a collection that feels destined to become a future underground classic.
The record opens with Nostalgia Blues, a soulful and deeply textured piece channeling the spirit of Larry Levan’s legendary dancefloor energy, somewhere between disco’s emotional golden age and modern club functionality.
On Bellavista, Benedetti dives deeper into high-energy territory, layering powerful black grooves, hypnotic rhythmic tension and rich percussive movement into something both vibrant and timeless.
Pyramid follows with soaring arpeggios and delicate melodic flourishes, recalling the euphoric sophistication of Todd Terje at his most inspired, while maintaining Benedetti’s raw dancefloor sensibility.
Closing track How High The Moon nods toward Patrick Cowley’s pioneering synth work, injecting the EP with cosmic disco pressure, futuristic funk textures and a strange late-night sensuality.
More than a simple collection of tracks, the EP unfolds as a fully coherent journey through house, disco, Italo and high-energy mutations, balancing emotional depth, machine-driven grooves and timeless dancefloor instinct with remarkable naturality.
Fast At Work flight number 006 lands via London-based Australian Iti delivering three original productions drawn from the more obscure edges of dub and breakbeat. The record is built around the hallmarks of Iti’s sound: saturated synthesis and fractured percussion, however with a more in-the-box approach than his usual productions. It’s a perfect fit for the FAW imprint, already known for its propensity for both quality and borderless curation. Remixing “Okra” is Stockholm’s Mattias El Mansouri. Matias reworks the source material to
deliver a dancefloor thumper, both functional and deep – his signature combo which he does so well.
»Memorial« grew out of Nate Wooley’s work alongside Annea Lockwood recording the Columbia River, and in particular from a visit to Kettle Falls in northern Washington, once one of the river’s great salmon fishing and meeting grounds and a place of enormous importance to the Sinixt and other Indigenous peoples of the Upper Columbia. The falls disappeared from view following the construction of the Grand Coulee Dam in 1940, submerged beneath what is now Lake Roosevelt, yet beneath the still surface of the reservoir, a fast current continues to move across the buried cliffs. That tension between what remains and what can only be recovered through memory runs throughout »Memorial«.
In the essay accompanying the record, Wooley returns repeatedly to the idea of translation: the attempt to carry an experience from one form into another, from river to recording, memory to sound, landscape to music. He moves between Lockwood’s sound maps, John Ashbery’s rain falling on canal machinery, Ravel’s attempts to make water move through a piano, Christian Wolff’s »Stones«, and the Sinixt First Salmon Ceremony, where rocks struck together recall the sound of salmon once moving through the river in their thousands. These translations cannot restore what has been lost; however, they allow us to revisit what remains beneath in another form.
»Memorial« exists as an uncertainty, concerned with the distance between a place and its recording, between an event and what survives of it, and with the way listening itself becomes entangled with memory. Kettle Falls remains submerged, the river constrained and radically altered, but the water continues to move over the old rock beneath the reservoir. »Memorial« tries to listen for that persisting memory.
Faitiche presents the debut solo album by cellist, sound artist, and composer Topu Lyo: “quiet scenes from tokyo” brings together sixteen miniatures for solo cello and tape echo that oscillate between abstracts drones and rhythmic pizzicato sketches – all recorded at Topu’s Tokyo apartment. The constant traffic noise from a nearby highway has become an accompanying soundtrack for his compositions and can be heard on the recordings. Topu’s playing is marked by a distinctive idiom oriented more towards abstract electronic studio effects than classical technique.
The artist spoke to Jan Jelinek about his work:
JJ: A solo cello album may seem like an odd fit for a label that has to date released only music that is electronic in the broadest sense. But I think “quiet scenes from tokyo” complements the Faitiche repertoire exceptionally well. Its sixteen miniatures showcase the cello in all its complexity: the bowed passages sometimes recall a tape feedback drone; the pizzicato playing conjures up the percussion recordings of Moondog; and the abstract textures might be mistaken for the product of a granular sampler rather than rapid finger work on the cello. I’m constantly surprised by just how rich and varied this album is – without ever losing the charm of its sketch-like quality. Could you say a few words about the making of your album – first of all, from a rather technical perspective: what production tools did you use, and why?
TL: My production tools were very sparse. Just a solo cello and my Roland 301 Space Echo, which I only used at the end, running everything through it during mixing, tape only. After years of working with electronics, pedals, and synthesizers, moving to Tokyo pushed me toward minimizing my setup. But my aesthetics shifted too, toward simplicity. I wanted to strip everything back to just the acoustic cello and see how far I could push it — replicating some of my favorite electronic effects through extended technique: slow portamento, LFOs, filters, detune, noise. I’d also been listening to a cassette of ocean sounds for years. When I moved to Tokyo I was horrified to find myself living directly across from a freeway. Eventually the freeway started sounding almost identical to the ocean — and that ended up playing a prominent part in the recording.
JJ: That’s super interesting: mimicking electronic production as a compositional idea for the cello! You say the sound of the freeway is crucial to the album: I, too, tend to interpret steady traffic noise as a positive soundscape – do we hear the freeway on the album? I can also hear other field recordings, for example on “a street car with announcements”. Can you say a bit about how these field recordings influence your playing?
TL: Yes, you can hear the freeway on the album! The freeway is most prominent in “old trees in lonely spring”, “yuyake koyake”, and “the moon” (you can clearly hear individual cars). When I first began recording I had my balcony door shut tightly, but after a while I began leaning into the highway sound and slowly opening the door little by little to control the amount of noise. “streetcar with announcements” was a moment I was recording and a car passed by making announcements in the background. I loved how it sounded! Same thing with “yuyake koyake”, and later I realized that every day at 5pm the same song plays to mark sunset, telling children it’s time to go home. Having this bedrock of sound puts less pressure on me to put music on top or to play more notes.
JJ: It’s astonishing how much this differs from what I’d imagined: I’d been picturing peaceful landscape recordings, but had never thought of a freeway. Which goes to show how open to interpretation traffic noises are. So the room by the freeway had a major influence on the album – how are you going to perform it live?
TL: The contrast between the freeway and the beautiful landscape in my head couldn’t have been starker. I too was imagining a beautiful landscape in which to create the album, but somehow it still worked out. I've been going back and forth a lot on live shows and I think the most honest way is to have it the most stripped down. I was thinking of using traffic samples etc., but I think the duet really comes from the background sounds from every unique venue/environment. So as it stands, I’ll just be doing acoustic solo cello.
Power Ballads and The Wash is the sophomore album from London-based multi instrumentalist James Howard, due for release on 6th November 2026 via boutique
label Faith & Industry. James is known as founder of critically acclaimed 2010’s band Blue House and collaborator with luminaries such as Rozi Plain, Dana Gavanski, Kate Bollinger and Alabaster Deplume.
For Power Ballads and The Wash James has worked with producer Mike Lindsay, co-founder of folktronica group Tunng. Power Ballads and The Wash follows James's debut solo album Peek-A-Boo, released to great acclaim in April 2023.
All eight songs of Power Ballads and The Wash began life as intimate live takes of
guitar or piano and voice, recorded at Howard’s studio in Deptford, south London.
Steeped in the energy of the local environment, each session was preceded by a visit to the Thames to ask for its muddy blessing, with the DLR rumbling by. The sessions at Lindsay’s Margate studio built a widescreen world around Howard’s original performances, from the restless Eventide vocal treatments on Seven Seconds to the Hollywood string samples of The Moon In The Movies and the Moog bass that quietly anchors the record throughout. Howard also praises violinist Magdalena MacClean's (Caroline) contributions.
Beneath this gentle absurdity, though, lies something quietly powerful. Howard’s
song-writing explores the notion that, despite our ever-shortening attention spans,
there is still the possibility of quiet reflection and the discovery therein of revelations hidden in plain sight. The world of these lucid dream-esque reveries is unmistakably London. The record began with a wing-and-a-prayer visit to the Thames, and ends there too: the wash from the Thames Clipper / nearly breaks through your shoe / like some feelings sometimes do.
A love letter to Canada sees Adams explore new musical territory, drawing on country, folk and rock while telling stories inspired by the people, places and history of home. How's It Goin' could be the most Canadian album ever written! Inspired by the landscapes, characters, stories and current affairs that are all part of Canada's ongoing history, How's It Goin' sees Adams explore a different musical landscape of his own. Alongside the unmistakable songwriting and voice that have been at the heart of his music, the album introduces elements of country and folk, giving the record a warm, roots-y character. Among the songs are "Diesel and Dirt," "How's It Goin'," "Iron Ribbon" and "The Battle of Lundy's Lane". "The idea was simply to make a record about Canada," says Adams. "It started with writing the song for the documentary, 'Canada's Wild Eastern Edge' and after doing so much research, I was inspired to start writing more songs about Canada. Musically it took me somewhere a little different too, which made the whole thing exciting." One of the album's most poignant moments is "The Ballad of Terry Fox," Adams' tribute to one of Canada's most inspirational figures.The song will also be featured in the forthcoming new documentary film about Terry Fox, entitled "Run Terry Run". How's It Goin' acknowledges Adams' roots and delivers an album that is at times personal, cinematic and, occasionally, reflective but always unmistakably Adams.
A love letter to Canada sees Adams explore new musical territory, drawing on country, folk and rock while telling stories inspired by the people, places and history of home. How's It Goin' could be the most Canadian album ever written! Inspired by the landscapes, characters, stories and current affairs that are all part of Canada's ongoing history, How's It Goin' sees Adams explore a different musical landscape of his own. Alongside the unmistakable songwriting and voice that have been at the heart of his music, the album introduces elements of country and folk, giving the record a warm, roots-y character. Among the songs are "Diesel and Dirt," "How's It Goin'," "Iron Ribbon" and "The Battle of Lundy's Lane". "The idea was simply to make a record about Canada," says Adams. "It started with writing the song for the documentary, 'Canada's Wild Eastern Edge' and after doing so much research, I was inspired to start writing more songs about Canada. Musically it took me somewhere a little different too, which made the whole thing exciting." One of the album's most poignant moments is "The Ballad of Terry Fox," Adams' tribute to one of Canada's most inspirational figures.The song will also be featured in the forthcoming new documentary film about Terry Fox, entitled "Run Terry Run". How's It Goin' acknowledges Adams' roots and delivers an album that is at times personal, cinematic and, occasionally, reflective but always unmistakably Adams.
Forty years of cassette releases, pressed for the first time on vinyl
First of two instalments exploring the previously unreleased sonic archives of one of Poland’s most enigmatic
living artists - with its first volume focused on his deep listening practice and spiritual reverie (recorded 1990–2013)
The last time Andrzej Dudek-Dürer took a banknote bearing the face of the Polish anarchist Jarosław Dąbrowski from his pocket to trade it for a pair of shoes was in 1969. He bought them for 120zł - the equivalent of 100€ today - and never replaced them since then. Only rebuilt them, year after year, drawing a needle and thread through the leather each time it split, closing one wound before the next one opened. It became a ritual of precision, stitching a record of another year into their soles.
That same year, in Wrocław, he arrived at a conclusion that would recalibrate everything that followed. Convinced he was the reincarnation of Albrecht Dürer, he adopted the surname Dudek-Dürer, stopped cutting his hair and began wearing the same garments every day. It was the first ritual of many, though he wouldn't have called it that yet. Look closely enough, over the decades, and it is always the same gesture, returning in different material: hair growing in a single unbroken strand, a needle drawing thread through leather, sitar strings pulled taut across a neck he built with his own hands and magnetic tape spooling forward inside the cassette boxes stacked against his walls.
None of this began in a vacuum. Dudek-Dürer emerged from the Wrocław neo-avant-garde, in a Polish art world where an exhibition could be cancelled overnight by the stroke of a censor's pen. In 1973, his exhibition Auto-crucifixion was shut down by the state, and for a time he found himself blocked from exhibiting his own art at all - the one force in his life that ever came close to cutting the thread.
He seemed to experience it differently. In 1974, after long, patient research into sitar craftsmanship, he built his first prototype with his brother, a knowledgeable luthier. In 1978, in a smoked-out jazz club, he took his first steps into sound recording with the unreleased album Jazz From Underground with his first band. By 1979, recognition started to travel further than he could.
Turning toward Far-Eastern philosophy, meditation and the idea of reincarnation was another language of freedom for him. It was a way of claiming an inner territory the state could not reach, a border it could not close. Mail Art served a parallel function, reaching further out: in a country that restricted travel and expression, sending and receiving art through the postal system became an act of quiet rebellion.
The body, in his understanding, is only an envelope readied for constant transformation. From this came Metaphysical Telepathy: during the years he could not leave Poland, he treated that confinement as a rehearsal room, sending his mind out ahead on the same thread his body would later follow. Living Sculpture grew from the same root with performances of stillness beside static art objects, until the boundary between the object and the man beside it simply dissolved. Camera Meditation extended the same instinct into photography: a shutter click flattening three dimensions into two so that a single instant could be held forever. Inspired by the pioneers of self-portrait photography like Robert Cornelius, he used it to document time itself, and kept explaining to me: "You know. This is not about vanity. This is about observing time passing.”
The isolation did not end suddenly. It ended the way his own philosophy had already predicted it would, from the inside first. Mail Art quietly solved the problem politics couldn't. Correspondence built during years of confinement slowly worked its way through doors the state itself had kept locked. Contacts made through folded paper and stamps became invitations. Ultimately, invitations became passports.
In 1983 he made his first trip outside Poland, to Germany, in search of the audio technology he couldn’t get his hands on before. In 1985, he was invited by the Indian embassy in Poland to give a sitar concert on an instrument he had spent a decade patiently stringing together - half sitar, half tanpura, built from patience and determination. After the collapse of the People's Republic of Poland, the travels kept unspooling: South Korea, then Mexico, then Australia, Canada, New Zealand, Singapore, Japan and the United States - each stop leaving behind its own small knot of tape, tied off and carried home.
In the decades since, recognition arrived at the same unhurried pace: he conducted workshops at UC Berkeley, served as vice-president for artistic affairs of the Union of Polish Art Photographers and the Union of Polish Visual Artists between 2010 and 2014 and received the Bronze Medal for Merit to Culture - Gloria Artis. His visual work gradually entered collections including the National Museums of Warsaw, the Stedelijk Museum, Tate Modern, MoMA and the Venice Biennale. His musical practice, by contrast, never found that kind of room - left to circulate quietly, sharing his cassette tapes directly, waiting for someone willing to follow it further.
It took months before I could find a way to reach Andrzej Dudek-Dürer - his presence online is very close to nonexistent. Surprisingly, LinkedIn turned out to be the only door still open, a faintly absurd irony given everything else about him. I packed the strict minimum for a three-day trip and an empty notebook and made my way to Wrocław. His headquarters sits in the neighbourhood of Grabyszyn: a two-storey pre-war house that has belonged to his family for generations. The man who opened the door was long-haired, long-bearded, in his trademark leather shoes and patched jeans. We sat in his living room, in front of a computer where decades of recordings sat organised in cryptically named files, surrounded by books and objects that had arrived one layer at a time, leaving room for only two chairs in the middle. His shoes sat by the door, rebuilt so many times they had become their own quiet sculpture. Cassette tapes filled boxes against the walls, almost unlabelled, each one a spool of thread holding decades of sound that had never once been asked for, until now.
I listened for hours: meditating in front of strangers on the porch of a Seoul temple until the tourists stopped taking photos and simply waited with him; a stand-off with border guards at the US–Mexico crossing over an instrument they couldn't identify and didn't trust; a session with the Stockhausen family that he still, decades later, describes like it happened last week. All of it interrupted, occasionally, by the smell of soup boiling and fresh bread warming on the ceramic stove. After two days, it felt like being handed the end of a very long thread and asked, gently, to keep following it. I left with a USB drive holding his full discography, signed with his unmistakable signature.
Astral Meditations From A Living Statue is a length of that thread, drawn out from the boxes stacked against his walls - recordings gathered from different rooms, different countries, different decades. This first record breathes slowly: incense-thick, meditative, built for stillness. A cutting-edge séance in outer space where machines learn how to dream.
It begins with the neo-classical improvisations of Andrzej, space-delayed, recorded at Klub Muzyki i Literatury in Wrocław in 2002. 'When..So' opens the curtains with a deep-rooted meditation accompanied by slow-decaying piano figures illuminated by a candle-lit spirit gathering.
Los Angeles, 1990: a dormant villa, a grand piano, the voice of Bonnie Barnett. 'Exception' is captured in a single room, in a single afternoon - voice and keys circling each other, neither one leading, until the silence between the notes starts to feel like the instrument.
'The Meta...' and 'Tired Of...', recorded at Studio Morandi in Ponte Nossa, Italy, in 1992, settle into a sitar drone built entirely from patience - overtones stacking and beating against each other, strung by a man who never once set foot in India. 'Mastery Of...' follows, recorded the same year at Studio Suski in Łomianki, pushing that same hum further still, until pitch dissolves into a spectral reverie. 'Transcendental Sound', from 2000, closes the first record in a slow bath of celestial frequency - better heard beside the shores of the Odra river.
More than fifty years after deciding that a life could become an artwork, Andrzej Dudek-Dürer continues to inhabit that decision. His shoes keep wearing thin against the earth's crust. His hair keeps growing, one strand at a time. His cassette tapes keep spooling in the dark of their boxes.
Now the thread finds its last shape: a single unbroken groove, spiralling inward from the outer edge to the label at the centre. Never cut - the way nothing else in his life ever was. Drop the needle and it will find that groove and follow it, the same way a needle once followed leather, once followed a border it couldn't cross, once followed string into an instrument that didn't exist until he built it. This record is the other end of a thread that has been travelling for fifty years. For the length of both sides, it rests here, in your hands. This is a timeless proof that the Lord of the New Age was never lost."
Rekombinant is the solo project of Rome based composer and sound artist Alfonso Montagnese. Blending electroacoustic composition, analogue electronics, magnetic tape and sound design, his work explores the physical qualities of sound, embracing imperfection, transformation and degradation as expressive compositional tools.
Borrowing its title from the physical principle of parity symmetry, the album is less interested in scientific theory than in the possibility that an identity may endure even after profound change. Sound is treated as matter, it is stretched, reflected, saturated, compressed and displaced, yet never entirely separated from its origin.
Magnetic tape is the medium through which this question unfolds. Magnetic tape does not preserve sound faithfully, it reshapes the sound. It compresses, saturates, colours and gradually erodes it, producing not a copy but another state of the same material. Every recording becomes both document and transformation.
Most of the instruments used throughout the album were selected from more recent generations of electronic equipment compared to previous works. Their character is not defined by nostalgia, but by their functional and sonic qualities: instruments chosen for how they behave under pressure.
The album consists of fourteen compositions, each one approaching sound as a material in continuous state of alteration and was conceived within what feels like a new Middle Ages, one that is still unfolding. An era marked by increasing fragmentation, uncertainty and the erosion of shared cultural references. The music does not illustrate this condition; it absorbs and inhabits it.
Throughout these fourteen pieces, sound continuously changes its appearance without abandoning its identity. What remains after every inversion, every saturation and every layer of magnetic degradation is not certainty, but persistence.
Parity Symmetry is Conserved is ultimately an exploration of that persistence: the fragile possibility that memory, identity and human experience may continue to exist, even after passing through irreversible transformation.
The music on ‘Remanens’ is the result of a commission by Art Cinema OFF off and B.A.A.D.M to score the short silent film ‘Positano’ made by french actor and filmmaker Pierre Clémenti in 1969. The film itself is an ever-shifting series of glimpses, without much context, of a family vacation to the island Positano. The short cuts are similar to a dream or obscured, residual memories where chronology has fallen apart.
The score was reworked into album format on ‘Remanens’, the title being the Swedish word for remanence. The word has several meanings, most commonly residual magnetism left behind in a material. It is consequently used when referring to residue on magnetic tape, as well as data remanence, which is the residual digital data that remains even after attempts have been made to erase a hard drive. The music was reworked with remnant traces of memory in mind, of the film, but also of how glimpses of memories from another life, when the future was undecided, can make a person feel – and how it can unveil one’s own traces of what the future felt like.
Linus Hillborg (b. 1989) is a Swedish composer, musician and multidisciplinary artist based in Stockholm. His diverse creative practice spans experimental music across both electronic and acoustic realms, as well as compositions for film, theatre, and interactive installations. In 2021 he released his acclaimed solo-debut 'Magelungsverket' through Moloton, derived from the installation 'Orphan Works' which he built with an obsolete computer game engine. In 2023 he released 'Four Works' through Kali Malone and Maria W Horn’s label XKatedral, which featured a series of instrumental works by himself and Theodor Kentros.
Nashville’s Jess Kerber focuses on the profound resonances of simple moments, pairing delicate acoustic guitar lines with her rich and captivating tenor. The World Is Dark, but I Want It to Be Funny, her second LP for Felte, is a deeply affecting collection of homespun poetry and natural artistry that finds the artists reflecting on personal history, the emotional intricacies of relationships, and the value of cosmic perspective. She explains,“These songs come from a space of feeling a little left behind, so a lot of the album is about realizing and accepting impermanence, and learning how to be good to yourself and to others.”
Opening with “Familiar Strangers”, Kerber gets to the heart of her greatest talents: fluid fingerpicking, emotive vocal cadences, feather-light touches of piano, and subtle harmonies. “Louisiana Song” positions a lyrical chain of childhood recollections up against the literal rising waters that will one day submerge a cherished place: “I think about being southern / and the sand on the gulf coast / When I think about returning / I am wading in a graveyard”.
Throughout The World Is Dark, Kerber navigates an emotional tightrope, fully aware of the ills of the world while trying to find connections and peaceful corners. Even with all their nuances and challenges, she suggests, our relationships are essential to staying grounded, even when we lose them. “Much of my writing is about facing the struggles head-on, balancing what you need to do to survive while remaining true to yourself,” she says. There are echoes of influences like Joni Mitchell, Gillian Welch, and Lomelda, though Kerber injects her own unique wit, wonder, and humility into every passage, allowing the listener into her head for a spell while quietly taking up residence in theirs.
