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Killer Groove Records proudly presents the self-titled debut album by Italian cinematic funk trio Atabasca. A sonic journey where funk, psychedelia and desert groove merge into a timeless narrative suspended between rhythm and vision.


"Atabasca" marks the debut release from the cinematic funk trio, dropping March 27th on limited edition LP, CD digipack and digital formats, the latter featuring an exclusive bonus track. This is a project built on evocative imagery: each song unfolds as an open scene, an emotional landscape where listeners can step inside and write their own ending.

Lap steel, kalimba, percussion and guitars interweave with bass and drums, striking an original balance between tradition and experimentation that evokes unwritten soundtracks for worlds at once distant and familiar. The record navigates between melancholy and irony, tension and release, with a sharp focus on dynamics and sonic narrative.


Deserts, seas, imaginary villages, getaways, pursuits and collective rituals: "Atabasca" emerges as a collection of musical landscapes that unfolds through vivid, evocative imagery.

Jazz-funk, world music, afrobeat, psychedelia and the Italian Golden Age of movie soundtracks merge into a singular emotional geography: warm, analog and deeply human.

The musical journey opens with "Dune", a melancholic statement that leaves room for imagination, before igniting with "Kundela Mawedi" and its cascading lap steel over haunting vocal chants. "Paco" tips its hat to classic westerns, tracing a bandit's trajectory, while "Cameo" drifts back to childhood through minimal rumba and shimmering kalimba. The cinematic imagery continues in "Cacopoulos", a nod to Spaghetti westerns and Eli Wallach, built on raw drum patterns and distorted guitars. Intensity builds in "Khettara", where afrobeat rhythms and Middle Eastern textures intertwine, before "Hell Dorado" tears off in pursuit of the American dream's funk-fueled mirage. "Papambra" weaves hypnotic polyrhythms between kalimba and lap steel, while "Porpora" delivers a sensual, visceral tango of passion and tension. The digital edition closes with "Reprise", a sequel that stretches the album's central theme into an expansive, meditative interpretation.

The tracks were recorded in single takes, capturing the raw energy and natural atmosphere of the performance. Artistic production was handled by the trio alongside Andrea Fabrizii (digger, musician, producer and catalogue curator for CAM Sugar), while Riccardo Ricci mastered the album at Velvet Room Mastering Studio in Brighton.

Like a desert blooming within the evergreen forests of the planet's far north, a unique, alien, disruptive environment. This is the vision behind Atabasca, the project of Luca Mongia (guitars, lap steel, keyboards, vocals), Paolo Mazziotti (bass, keyboards, vocals) and Valerio Pompei (drums, percussion, vocals).

Individually active for over twenty years on both the national and international scenes, the three Italian musicians came together in 2023 to create a project that merges experience, experimentation and creative freedom. Their music is imaginative and at times dreamlike, blending the classic concept of the instrumental trio with the worlds of film scoring and sound design.

Atabasca's sound moves through jazz-funk, world and cinematic territories, weaving together afrobeat, desert and psychedelic influences into a personal and timeless language. Each piece is a scene; each sound, a fragment of a world, a journey between reality and imagination where groove, texture and organic timbre merge into a singular sonic ecosystem: a perpetually shifting balance that generates new inner landscapes.


For fans of Khruangbin, Surprise Chef and instrumental psych-funk!

Some grooves don’t rush to the dancefloor — they crawl there, slow and heavy, like smoke wrapping around a bassline. With Fragments of Reality, The Balek Band sculpt an electronic funk that lives between shadow and light — an end-of-the-world fever dream, a Barjavel-style Ravage where chaos turns nihilistic.

No sequencer grid here — just four musicians sharing the same room, shaping air and tension together: drums locked tight with a slap bass, a guitar dripping with echo and heat, and a one-man orchestra behind his machines, weaving acid lines and synth arpeggios while mixing the band live — drenching it in delay, reverb, and saturation, like a dub producer in a Kingston studio, Lee Scratch Perry or King Tubby conjuring ghosts through smoke.

This isn’t fusion — it’s friction. A living ritual where the TB-303 hums, and machines don’t dominate but converse with the human pulse. Each track feels like a night that refuses to end — that humid in-between where trance slips into languor, and the body starts to think for itself.

The record recalls the cosmic jazz of Alain Mion or Eddy Louiss meeting the fiery energy of West African afrobeat musicians freshly arrived in a smoky Belleville basement in the mid-’80s. When The Balek Band summon ghosts, it’s only to reshape them — bending the past into something futuristic, alive, and strangely refreshing. Both disciplined and delirious, Fragments of Reality feels like a promise at dawn: dark funk for the late hours, slow acid for warm blood.

This EP isn’t nostalgic, though it remembers. It’s a transmission from a parallel past — a moment when jazz players met drum machines and decided never to stop playing. Each note sweats, each rhythm breathes. You can almost see the light cutting through the haze, faces half-awake, half-possessed.

The Balek Band aren’t recreating a moment — they’re keeping it alive.
Flesh and cables. Impulse and patience.
A band, not a loop.
A trip, not a format.

Calibre announces his new album 'Tricklemore Sea', set for release on vinyl and digital on 1st May via Signature Recordings.

A deeply personal and exploratory body of work, the album moves through ambient, shoegaze, electronic, blues and folk, all subtly shaped by the low-end sensibility that has defined his music for decades. It resists easy categorisation, reflecting an ongoing interest in blending bass culture with forms that sit outside it. Following the release of 'They Want You' at the end of 2025, this new project marks a clear shift in tone. Where that record leans into intensity and forward momentum, 'Tricklemore Sea' turns inward, occupying a more introspective space. Featuring entirely his own vocals and production, it carries a more exposed and vulnerable quality.

The album has taken shape gradually, drawing from material written in the years after 'Planet Hearth'. Rather than forming around a fixed concept, it emerges as a collection of pieces connected by tone and instinct. Tracks move between simplicity and abstraction, with piano-led compositions sitting alongside field recordings, improvisations and bass-driven works. Ideas often begin quickly, then evolve over long periods of revisiting and reworking. His voice takes on a more central role throughout, bringing a heightened sense of vulnerability. Lyrics and delivery are often left open, allowing space for interpretation. His process remains fluid and instinctive, with ideas written quickly, revisited over time and combined across different periods.

Moments such as 'Little Blend' carry a quiet melancholia balanced with hope, while 'Free One' reflects on the pressures of contemporary life. The title track considers the scale of human existence within a wider universe, framing individual lives as small but meaningful within something larger. Elsewhere, 'Deflower' and 'Pigeon Luncheon' draw from recordings made in Berlin at the end of lockdown, capturing a sense of movement and return. Older material, including 'Living In Your Head' and 'Hyndsight', is recontextualised and sits naturally alongside newer work. Threads from his wider catalogue remain present. 'Able Son Dub' nods to longstanding reggae influences, while 'Bit Broken Stream' appears here in a downtempo form alongside its drum and bass counterpart from 'They Want You'. Tracks like 'United Pull' and 'Mizzle Mine' lean further into abstraction, using minimal language and space to suggest mood rather than define it.

Over more than 30 years, Calibre has built a catalogue that moves across drum and bass, ambient, dub, techno, house, jazz, soul, blues and folk. His work is marked by restraint, quiet melancholy and a singular approach that continues to evolve. Complete authorship remains central, with all vocals, lyrics and production on both 'They Want You' and 'Tricklemore Sea' created solely by him. This breadth extends into his DJ sets, where he draws heavily from his own catalogue, often performing entirely self-produced material across a wide range of tempos and styles. His ability to move between contexts has seen him play at Boomtown, Houghton and Atonal Berlin, delivering distinct sets while maintaining a clear identity.

With 'Tricklemore Sea', that identity leans toward stillness, introspection and emotional depth. It is a record that prioritises feeling over definition, holding space for ambiguity while remaining grounded in a strong sense of authorship. Each release carries an element of exposure, a moment of vulnerability in letting the work go. At its core, the album seeks to capture something fleeting but recognisable, a sense of beauty that sits just beyond language.

He describes it simply: "The river inside of me flowing into the sea."

Preston duo White Flowers announce new album, Dreams For Somebody Else - due for release 1st May 2026 via The state51 Conspiracy.
White Flowers, the long-running collaboration between Joey Cobb and Katie Drew, exists within what they call “the realm” – a shared creative space, wherein time, rather than being a restrictive force, is fluid and boundless, and music exists as an endless conversation with their past and present selves. Adopting what the band describe as a “sketchbook” approach to writing, White Flowers is the product of a decade’s worth of recordings - snippets nestled away on hard drives, only to truly make sense years later.
On Dreams For Somebody Else, the band expand upon the dark-hued dream pop of their debut, channeling the catharsis of dance music via repetitive structures and “sad, euphoric sounds”. Working alongside LCD Soundsystem and Hot Chip’s Al Doyle on production, the album maps out a mosaic of soaring choruses that swirl around imposing arrays of synths, guitars, and percussion.
Through this new lens, the band explore themes of isolation, dissociation and identity - drawing inspiration from Annie Ernaux’s The Years. “Whilst recording the songs for ‘Dreams For Somebody Else’, we really connected with the concept of Annie Ernaux’s book, ‘The Years’ - a ‘collective autobiography’ pieced together from mismatched fragments from her past, conjuring the effect that she’s merely an observer of her own life. This concept merges into the White Flowers world, where time, rather than being restrictive, is fluid and boundless, with our music existing as an endless conversation with versions of ourselves at different stages of our lives.”
“The album has that same feeling of disassociating from your own life, because you’re just blending into everyone else”, the band explains. “There’s a sadness there, because it’s as if you’re looking back on things that happened to you, and they feel like they don’t belong to you anymore”. It’s the dull ache of nostalgia intertwined with a sense of wonder at what could lie ahead - the hopeful optimism and endless loss that defines the human experience. “It’s this idea of identity not being a fixed thing, but something that’s always changing. It’s a fluid thing, similar to time. Things aren’t really fixed, but rather in a constant state of change. It’s important to remember that we’re all going through that.”

They Came Like Swallows is the first album-length collaboration between Thurston Moore and Kramer (now officially Bonner Kramer), two giants of alternative/ experimental music. The accomplishments and influence of these two artists in the world of independent music cannot be overstated and the result of their artistic union is a startlingly cohesive statement that burns through landscapes of primitive outsider rock, avant-garde composition, progressive ambient and further locales boldly and beautifully unnamable. “Kramer and I reconnected in Miami, Florida, a few years back, many many years after each of us had departed NYC on separate life adventures. It was only a matter of time before Kramer and I started making plans to record together and with his irrepressible due diligence he quickly set up a mobile recording contraption in the pad I was decamped in, the Florida sunshine flowing through the palm leaves, lithe lizards skittering across the windowsills, and we just went for it.

Kramer had the idea to cover a Joy Division tune, a left turn from the improvisations we had been tracking, though wholly in keeping with both our sensibilities of light and dark unifying in transcendent songwriting, both of us devotees of 'the song' as well as 'the freedom.’ What transpired is They Came Like Swallows, a session we immediately felt should exist as a prayer to the war-torn souls of the families of Palestine continually decimated by the brutality of genocide. We agreed beyond words to offer our music as a sonic activism and as a beneficent energy. This album is our duo exchange for human dignity, it is our soul music for any semblance of a peaceful planet.” ~ Thurston Moore “For the first time in our nearly 45 years of friendship, we had identical time windows open to make a record together,” recounts Kramer. After all this time not a moment is wasted as the duo immediately taps into the heightened core of improvisational tension across these seven offerings. Volcanic opener “Urn Burial” notches a similar historic union (John Cale and Terry Riley) to meet the circumstances of the moment, with swirling mists of organ and pounding toms over guitar that thickens the atmosphere with jagged, grimy dissonance.

Solemn strings open the second track, “The Redness In The West,” with Kramer’s cello and viola in dueling bow beneath the high tension drive and sustain of Thurston’s electric guitar, tapping out a Morse code of tension that mounts endlessly into a fog of inevitable war by the end. Moore and Kramer’s sense of experimentalism is in free and full grandeur throughout They Came Like Swallows, though the duo keep a strong and constant sideways eye on melody, composition and architecture, to the ends that any strict lines between song and improvisation are blurred beyond qualification.

As if to punctuate this point, Swallows closes with a nightwork cover of Joy Division’s “Insight,” a doleful coda that breathes out with a solemn inner grace under Thurston’s instantly stylistically recognizable guitar melodies as they weave into he and Kramer’s unison voices. As the lone vocal piece and only traditional ‘song’ form on the album, “Insight” is unique to this set and as a closing statement draws connective lines back to the kind of dynamic, electrified melodicism that wove deep, melancholy patterns into the untamed fire of Sonic Youth’s Sister and Daydream Nation. In the album’s final moments, the two voices repeat the lyric “I’m not afraid anymore” as mantra, underscoring the heavy, unsettled themes and methods that preceded it. Kramer describes the creative process of They Came Like Swallows: “I had composed and recorded a few pieces at my home studio over the course of a couple weeks. Thurston was spending the winter in South Florida, so I flew down and spent a few days recording his guitar parts in his home there. Watching him spontaneously compose his parts was pretty astonishing, to say the least. Once we'd finished working on those pieces, we began improvising and following wherever the music pointed us, and another few pieces were born. We got straight to it, without anything driving us other than the joy of finally working together.

My personal goal was to remain present and catch as many surprises as I could from Thurston's guitar work, and there were plenty during those few days. We had a fucking blast.” Thurston’s contributions here will be readily familiar to any acolytes of his other works, the through-line between his inspired playing, cradled in Kramer’s meticulous, solid arrangements. “If I had to make this record again, I'd do it all exactly the same way,” Kramer says. “It’s like jazz, you don't think about it. You just do it. It was miraculous, and you don't fuck with a miracle.”

They Came Like Swallows is the first album-length collaboration between Thurston Moore and Kramer (now officially Bonner Kramer), two giants of alternative/ experimental music. The accomplishments and influence of these two artists in the world of independent music cannot be overstated and the result of their artistic union is a startlingly cohesive statement that burns through landscapes of primitive outsider rock, avant-garde composition, progressive ambient and further locales boldly and beautifully unnamable. “Kramer and I reconnected in Miami, Florida, a few years back, many many years after each of us had departed NYC on separate life adventures. It was only a matter of time before Kramer and I started making plans to record together and with his irrepressible due diligence he quickly set up a mobile recording contraption in the pad I was decamped in, the Florida sunshine flowing through the palm leaves, lithe lizards skittering across the windowsills, and we just went for it.

Kramer had the idea to cover a Joy Division tune, a left turn from the improvisations we had been tracking, though wholly in keeping with both our sensibilities of light and dark unifying in transcendent songwriting, both of us devotees of 'the song' as well as 'the freedom.’ What transpired is They Came Like Swallows, a session we immediately felt should exist as a prayer to the war-torn souls of the families of Palestine continually decimated by the brutality of genocide. We agreed beyond words to offer our music as a sonic activism and as a beneficent energy. This album is our duo exchange for human dignity, it is our soul music for any semblance of a peaceful planet.” ~ Thurston Moore “For the first time in our nearly 45 years of friendship, we had identical time windows open to make a record together,” recounts Kramer. After all this time not a moment is wasted as the duo immediately taps into the heightened core of improvisational tension across these seven offerings. Volcanic opener “Urn Burial” notches a similar historic union (John Cale and Terry Riley) to meet the circumstances of the moment, with swirling mists of organ and pounding toms over guitar that thickens the atmosphere with jagged, grimy dissonance.

Solemn strings open the second track, “The Redness In The West,” with Kramer’s cello and viola in dueling bow beneath the high tension drive and sustain of Thurston’s electric guitar, tapping out a Morse code of tension that mounts endlessly into a fog of inevitable war by the end. Moore and Kramer’s sense of experimentalism is in free and full grandeur throughout They Came Like Swallows, though the duo keep a strong and constant sideways eye on melody, composition and architecture, to the ends that any strict lines between song and improvisation are blurred beyond qualification.

As if to punctuate this point, Swallows closes with a nightwork cover of Joy Division’s “Insight,” a doleful coda that breathes out with a solemn inner grace under Thurston’s instantly stylistically recognizable guitar melodies as they weave into he and Kramer’s unison voices. As the lone vocal piece and only traditional ‘song’ form on the album, “Insight” is unique to this set and as a closing statement draws connective lines back to the kind of dynamic, electrified melodicism that wove deep, melancholy patterns into the untamed fire of Sonic Youth’s Sister and Daydream Nation. In the album’s final moments, the two voices repeat the lyric “I’m not afraid anymore” as mantra, underscoring the heavy, unsettled themes and methods that preceded it. Kramer describes the creative process of They Came Like Swallows: “I had composed and recorded a few pieces at my home studio over the course of a couple weeks. Thurston was spending the winter in South Florida, so I flew down and spent a few days recording his guitar parts in his home there. Watching him spontaneously compose his parts was pretty astonishing, to say the least. Once we'd finished working on those pieces, we began improvising and following wherever the music pointed us, and another few pieces were born. We got straight to it, without anything driving us other than the joy of finally working together.

My personal goal was to remain present and catch as many surprises as I could from Thurston's guitar work, and there were plenty during those few days. We had a fucking blast.” Thurston’s contributions here will be readily familiar to any acolytes of his other works, the through-line between his inspired playing, cradled in Kramer’s meticulous, solid arrangements. “If I had to make this record again, I'd do it all exactly the same way,” Kramer says. “It’s like jazz, you don't think about it. You just do it. It was miraculous, and you don't fuck with a miracle.”

Red Axes step into the fabric presents series with a release that feels both inevitable and deeply personal. Known for their hypnotic, psychedelic approach to club music, the Tel Aviv–based duo bring a narrative-driven sensibility that aligns seamlessly with fabric’s legacy of long-form storytelling and forward-thinking curation.

Across years of performances at fabric and other key global institutions, Red Axes have developed a reputation for sets that unfold patiently and unpredictably, drawing dancers into a world where groove, tension, and atmosphere take precedence over genre or trend. Their contribution to the fabric presents series reflects this ethos: a carefully sculpted journey that prioritises mood, momentum, and emotional depth, while remaining firmly rooted in the physical language of the dancefloor.

Formed by Dori Sadovnik and Niv Arzi, Red Axes emerged from Tel Aviv’s underground with a sound shaped by post-punk, acid, krautrock, and cosmic disco influences. Over the past decade, they have built a catalogue defined by raw textures, twisted melodies, and a distinctly human looseness, qualities that translate as powerfully in the club as they do on record. Their releases and remixes for labels such as Phantasy, Correspondant, Running Back, Dark Entries, and Permanent Vacation have established them as artists who consistently operate just outside the expected.

As DJs, Red Axes are celebrated for their ability to stretch time on the dancefloor, weaving obscure selections, unreleased material, and leftfield classics into slow-burning, trance-inducing narratives. This approach has seen them invited to venues and festivals including Panorama Bar, De School, Bassiani, Dekmantel, Sonar, and Primavera Sound, where their sets are defined not by peaks alone, but by the tension built between them.

With the forthcoming fabric presents Red Axes release, the duo deliver a statement that captures years of shared musical intuition and a deep respect for the club as a communal, transformative space. It is a mix that rewards close listening as much as physical immersion, a snapshot of Red Axes at their most focused, expressive, and uncompromising.

To mark the launch of their forthcoming fabric presents album, the duo unveil the lead single, “Hot Rod To Hell”, a bold reworking of Man Parrish and Roy Garrett’s 14-minute spoken-word electro epic, reimagined through Red Axes’ signature psychedelic lens.

Stripped back and refocused, the original’s narrative tension is transformed into a hypnotic, downtempo house track built for late-night immersion. A rolling, elastic groove anchors the track, while pulsing low-end, subtly warped synth lines, and tightly controlled percussion create a sense of slow, smouldering momentum. The spoken vocal elements drift through the mix like fragments of memory, lending the track a ritualistic, cinematic quality without overwhelming the dancefloor.

Rave At Your Fictional Borders is not beyond borders. The band simply denies any notion thereof. Driven by a sense of community, it defines human existence as one bio-organism with planet Earth. Now comprising members Dave De Rose, Marius Mathiszik, and Salim Akki, this incarnation of Rave At Your Fictional Borders first released the 'Entanglement' and 'Utopia' tracks in March 2025. Analogue Nomadism is the project's first album release. Recorded in Morocco and then co-produced and mixed by Dan Nicholls, it is an album of dizzying, trance-inducing scope. Rave music stripped of all external signifiers. Repetition, noise, krautrock, avant-garde sensibilities. This is a search for a groove that both connects and interlocks. The soul of improvisation and exploration runs through all seven pieces on Analogue Nomadism. Genres are referenced and transcended. The open-ended is perpetually embraced.

It is neither night nor day, but there is a half-light all the time. What used to be disconcerting is now not alien anymore. The sky boasts a faint light. Certain shapes are laid out, but get changed through communal ritual. Analogue Nomadism is the music of a feeling of community. It builds and breaks down. It is accepting of the psychedelic standards of the groove. Transportative and vertiginous. Endless.

Over the last decade, Portrayal of Guilt have solidified themselves as a pillar in the extreme underground music scene. With relentlessly consistent releases like 2023’s orchestral nightmare Devil Music, and year-round world touring with the likes of Deafheaven, Uniform and Pg. 99, POG have unquestionably carved their own path.
Defying accurate categorization since formation, the three piece blends elements of black, death and nu metal with crust, screamo, powerviolence and hardcore, with the bands forthcoming LP …The Beginning of The End” continuing to further obscure genre lines. The band takes the unhinged discordance to the next level on album standouts “Ecstasy” and “Human Terror”, with KoRn-like guitar dissonance, punishing death metal lows, and haunting spoken passages confidently riding the line between Life is Peachy and Scum.

In den letzten zehn Jahren haben sich Portrayal of Guilt als feste Größe in der extremen Underground-Musikszene etabliert. Mit unerbittlich konsequenten Veröffentlichungen wie dem orchestralen Albtraum ,Devil Music" aus dem Jahr 2023 und ganzjährigen Welttourneen mit Bands wie Deafheaven, Uniform und Pg. 99 haben POG zweifellos ihren eigenen Weg eingeschlagen. Seit ihrer Gründung lassen sie sich nicht in eine bestimmte Kategorie stecken. Das Trio mischt Elemente aus Black, Death und Nu Metal mit Crust, Screamo, Powerviolence und Hardcore, wobei ,The Beginning of The End" die Genregrenzen weiter verwischt. Die Band hebt die verstörende Disharmonie in den Album-Highlights ,Ecstasy" und ,Human Terror" auf die nächste Stufe, mit KoRn-ähnlichen Gitarrendissonanzen, gnadenlosen Death-Metal-Tiefen und eindringlichen gesprochenen Passagen, die selbstbewusst die Grenze zwischen ,Life is Peachy" und ,Scum" überschreiten.

In den letzten zehn Jahren haben sich Portrayal of Guilt als feste Größe in der extremen Underground-Musikszene etabliert. Mit unerbittlich konsequenten Veröffentlichungen wie dem orchestralen Albtraum ,Devil Music" aus dem Jahr 2023 und ganzjährigen Welttourneen mit Bands wie Deafheaven, Uniform und Pg. 99 haben POG zweifellos ihren eigenen Weg eingeschlagen. Seit ihrer Gründung lassen sie sich nicht in eine bestimmte Kategorie stecken. Das Trio mischt Elemente aus Black, Death und Nu Metal mit Crust, Screamo, Powerviolence und Hardcore, wobei ,The Beginning of The End" die Genregrenzen weiter verwischt. Die Band hebt die verstörende Disharmonie in den Album-Highlights ,Ecstasy" und ,Human Terror" auf die nächste Stufe, mit KoRn-ähnlichen Gitarrendissonanzen, gnadenlosen Death-Metal-Tiefen und eindringlichen gesprochenen Passagen, die selbstbewusst die Grenze zwischen ,Life is Peachy" und ,Scum" überschreiten.

Sakura is without doubt the most loved and lauded entry in Susumu Yokota’s catalogue.

The music unravels like cascades of petals falling from the eponymous cherry blossom trees. Yokota intended to ‘express ki-do-ai-raku (the four emotions; joy, anger, sorrow, and happiness) through music’, and throughout Sakura, the effect fluctuates between profound tranquillity, hesitation, melancholy and joy with ease, addressing the fickle nature of human emotion, while transcending the inclination to label moods entirely.

Sakura became Yokota’s best selling album. It was greeted with universal acclaim, lauded by Philip Glass and Brian Eno and launched Yokota internationally.

‘A bittersweet beauty, heightened by the sadness that all things must one day end.’ - Martyn Pepperell

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

the album release is march 26th - 2026.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Following the success of the first vinyl release from the Moroccan label Sotor Records, featuring Zadig, Perc & Oscar Mulero, Sotor writes a new chapter in its discography with its second vinyl release. Meaning "lines" in Arabic, Sotor reflects its commitment to championing the diversity of the techno genre.
The label's ninth release, "Processing Range," is a musical ode to the lines of space-time. With four original tracks from the Portuguese producer, Sotor invites you on a techno journey between mental tension and physical release.
The album opens with DJ Dextro's "Controle," which delivers a massive, sharp rhythm, dystopian synths, and a true immersion into a techno black hole.
The journey continues with the second track on side A. This time, DJ Dextro unleashes an uncompromising version of "Blue Dot," achieving a precarious balance while showcasing his signature percussive style. The Portuguese artist delivers the perfect track to unleash a crowd.
On the B-side, DJ Dextro offers us the eponymous track, "Processing Range." We're quickly drawn into an allegory of this decadent modern world where humanity is rushing towards its own destruction. Expect dusty techno rhythms and that sumptuous synth that sounds like the end of times. Probably a future classic!
And you'll finish on a gentler but no less dynamic note from DJ Dextro. He concludes the EP with "31 Atlas," which will leave you weightless with its galloping bassline and abyssal synth.

Intense and intensely personal, The Dead Ones marks The Last Ten Seconds of Life’s Metal Blade label debut. 10 original tracks of pulverizing deathcore produced by Carson Slovak and Grant McFarland of Pennsylvania’s Atrium Audio. In creating The Dead Ones, “everyone took what we learned from the past two releases and assembled what we thought would bring out the best of us from song structure, tonality of instruments, the mix/master, and the lyrical themes,” furthers McLaughlin.

The end result reflects a more personal and human experience rather than the philosophical and fictional approach used on earlier releases. The Dead Ones follows 2024’s acclaimed No Name Graves in the theme of death and rebirth, but in contrast, is directly focused on the human experience and the band members’ own struggles.

Faitiche welcomes a new artist: Christina Kubisch belongs to the first generation of sound artists. Her practice ranges from performances, concerts, to works with video and visual art, but she is best known for her sound installations and electro-acoustic compositions.

TUNING brings together three pieces by Christina Kubisch from different periods of her oeuvre. What they have in common is the way they transform sound phenomena originally considered “non-music” into compositions.

Jan Jelinek: Gaming in Silence (2024) is the most recent work on this compilation. It’s a collage of electromagnetic waves, voice, and abstract sound textures. How did this combination come about?

Christina Kubisch: Gaming was commissioned as a fixed-media composition for the Sound Dome at ZKM Karlsruhe. Since Resonances: The Electromagnetic Bodies Project (2005), I’ve been making recordings in the old and new server rooms at the ZKM and in their permanent collection of historical computer games. Computer games like Asteroids (Atari, 1979) and Poly-Play (VEB Polytechnik, 1986) have specially generated analogue electromagnetic waves that interest me in particular on account of their density, rhythms and textures. I originally studied painting and to me the work of composition often feels like painting an abstract picture. I alter my source material as little as possible, layering and overlapping until a distinctive sound space emerges. In recent pieces, I sometimes combine magnetic waves with field recordings or live instruments. In Gaming it’s my recording of a Chinese song about silence.

JJ: Two persons walking through a street in Madrid (2004) is a recording from your Electrical Walks series. Here we should give a brief explanation of one of your best known works: participants in an Electrical Walk move through public spaces wearing prepared headphones that allow them to receive electromagnetic waves from their surroundings – for example from security gates, ATMs or neon signs. They discover a situation that normally is inaudible to the human ear and they can actively shape it by choreographing their movements. I really admire this piece, not least because there’s no clear dividing line between participants and artist. What exactly do we hear in Two persons walking through a street in Madrid (2004)?

CK: With this early work, I wanted to understand what is heard by people participating in an Electrical Walk in the same place but moving in different ways. The Spanish composer Miguel Alvarez-Fernàndez and I set off from opposite ends of a major shopping street in Madrid, met briefly in the middle, and then continued to the end. We both recorded our walks and I then layered them over one another. You might call it a work of electromagnetic conceptualism.

JJ: Diapason (2009 version) is an installation that plays a composition based on sounds from fifteen tuning forks. This setting is audible in the recording: there’s no dramatic arc, no beginning or end – instead, it recalls a piece of aleatoric music focussing on the decay phase. How did you come to make this work and could you tell us something about your compositional method?

CK: Diapason is part of a series of three pieces that deal with “non-instruments” or instruments that no longer exist: electrical mine bells used to send signals to the workers underground; a historical glass harmonica originally used for medicinal purposes; and tuning forks that were used by doctors to test people’s hearing. All of these methods are no longer in use. The sound of the tuning forks, audible only if held close to the ear, was recorded at the electronic studio at Berlin’s Technical University in such a way that even their decay remained audible. The frequencies range between 64 and 2048 Hertz and they can be adjusted at micro-intervals using small movable weights. The sequence and the duration of the pauses are dictated by chance and were not defined in advance. The 2009 version was created for an installation in the historic Holy Cross Church (Korskirken) in Bergen. Visitors could enter and leave the space at any time, deciding for themselves where and for how long they wished to listen to the sounds played back over an array of small loudspeakers placed on the floor of the apse.

Credits:

Gaming in Silence: commission of the ZKM/Hertzlab, Karlsruhe 2023
elektronic sound processing: Tom Thiel
sound engineering and mixing: Eckehard Güther

Diapason: produced at Elektronisches Studio of TU Berlin
rearrangement: Eckehard Güther

Christina Kubisch, published by Edition Christina Kubisch / Random Musick Publishing

image front: Transitionen 2021 by C. Kubisch, sonagrams of electronic waves (courtesy: Galerie Mazzoli Berlin)
image back: Diapason Tuning Fork, property of Folkmar Hein, Photo: Archiv Christina Kubisch

design by Tim Tetzner
mastered by Giuseppe Ielasi
Thanks to Miguel Álvarez-Fernández, Folkmar Hein, Dominik Kautz and Mario Mazzoli

Malta’s Human Safari returns to R&S Records, building on the momentum of his 2023 debut ‘Sax Paradiso’, with another EP of fast, physical club music on ‘Children Of The Sea’.

Propulsive opener ‘Children Of The Sea’, balances tensile strings and frenzied percussion fused around a high-tempo techno framework. ‘Jazz Affair’ follows suit but shifts the mood inward, pairing feverish, hypnotic drum programming with expressive instrumentation - layering drifting piano chords, fragile pads and a winding bassline that lends the track a kinetic pull.

‘Turbulence At The Orchestra’ draws from the raw spirit of ’90s warehouse techno, weaving in the sounds of sensationalist news reports on illegal raves of the time and overall diving into darker territory, led by a foreboding, spiralling 303 line and punctuated with dramatic horn flares.. Closing track ‘Lido’ locks into another deep, rolling groove, with pulsing low-end, reverberant horns and skittering, Latin and jazz-tinged rhythmic details threading through the mix.

‘Children Of The Sea’ by Human Safari is available on R&S Records from 13th March 2026.

Longtime friend of the label Eraserhead returns after over a decade away from producing music due to his surreal MS Paint work as 'Jim'll Paint It' becoming an unexpected cultural phenomenon. With his debut full-length, 'Violence', Eraserhead presents a truly eclectic electronic LP featuring collaborations with established producers such as Om Unit, Enduser, and Brain Rays, as well as the vocal talents of Nadia Rose, Beans (of Antipop Consortium), and Cadence Weapon. An album held together by theme and tone rather than style or tempo, 'Violence' is the culmination of a bitter wave of inspiration, initially conceived in the wake of a personal tragedy that quickly grew into a broader polemic about the state of the world.

Originally linking up with Love Love in its breakcore netlabel infancy with his refined, breaks-heavy breakcore/gabba, Eraserhead's flair for tight, intricate productions was evident in his finely tuned tracks of controlled chaos. This time around, his work is a darker, more expansive evolution of his sound, with the scale upsized and the stylistic scope massively broadened, remaining unfaithful to any single genre, but with firm nods to Breakcore, Grime, Drum & Bass, Techno, Rave, Dubstep, and Footwork, all chewed up with a hard industrial edge and cinematically framed by a backdrop of apocalyptic synths.

Opening with the cold tech-noir of 'Shining Brainless Beacon' to set the tone, the album quickly locks in with the blistering spoken-word headrush of 'Hurricane With Teeth' alongside rapper Beans, before Om Unit lends his expertise on the sharp groove and clinical bass blasts of 'Operation Hardtack'. The album shifts and morphs constantly throughout the runtime, moving from the raw and urgent acid techno of 'Crowd Control' to the crunching military march of the Gore Tech collaboration 'No More Worlds' and the tribal sci-fi footwork of the Brain Rays collaboration 'Night Visions'. 'Monolith' provides a final burst of catharsis, channelling Underworld by way of Nine Inch Nails, complete with writhing screams from Amée Chanter of sludge-punk-noise-rock duo Human Leather, before the heart of the album is laid bare with the painfully bleak closing dirge of 'Animal'. In its final moments, 'Violence' leaves the listener suspended between devastation and awe - an unflinching portrait of an uncaring world.

10 songs from what is possibly the best anarchopunk band currently in existence. The dynamics of the tracks are refreshingly simple, a powerful yet neutral- sounding recording, with very little embellishment or stylized production to hide behind, approaching filth with distorted guitars, haunting bass lines, and steady drum beats, all elevated by the combination of the three voices perfectly balanced between melody and hatred. In a quantized world, one can perceive an endearing dose of human spirit through their tense and disturbingly melodic expressions. A modern Anarcho Punk classic that is surprising to find 40 years after the wonderful bands that spawned the genre, especially England. Includes poster and insert with lyrics.

Since reviewing Pomegranate Seeds: An International Benefit for Mutual Aid in Gaza, the compilation put out by the DISSIDENTS, I've been hunting for more VAMPIRE material, so when I saw I was assigned this LP I became very excited. VAMPIRE is an Australian band that plays apocalyptic anarcho- punk. A sense of extreme urgency pervades VAMPIRE's sound, and What Seems Forever Can Be Broken is ten songs that combine the demanding hardcore of CONFLICT, with a foundation of CRASS, and the rough-hewn delivery of raw punk. The resulting album is dark, hauntingly mesmeric, but also aggressive with a sense of communal voice. In other words, this is anarchopunk that is of the moment, and articulates exactly what contemporary punk is about without being preachy or elitist. This is that eye-to-eye, in-the-trenches vocalization of criticism that comes off as eye-opening and perspective-altering. What Seems Forever Can Be Broken is by far my favorite release thus far in 2025, but also might be the best album I've heard in a really long time. Like, this is benchmark-level material, so definitely give this a listen.

Bristol experimental band SUGAR HORSE are delighted to announce that their third album, Not A Sound In Heaven, will be released on 10th April 2026 via Fat Dracula Records.

To celebrate the news, the band are sharing the bruising lead single ‘Secret Speech’, available to stream on all good digital service providers from 12th February 2026.

Also announced today are a run of April 2026 UK album headline tour dates and an appearance at StrangeForms Festival 2026, with tickets on sale now (see below for full listings).

“We are fortunate enough to live in what is generally known as ‘The West’,” says front man Ash Tubb of the lyrical themes behind the new track. “I say fortunate with gritted teeth, because I know—as I’m sure the reader knows—that living in the West isn’t always rosy. The vast majority of people struggle everyday to feed, clothe and house themselves. Let alone receive adequate healthcare, schooling and workers’ rights.”

“We are, however, where all the world’s wealth is hoarded. We are at the centre of Empire. The people outside of this empire—those of the Global South—have had their resources extracted and their populations exploited by our own governments, with very little given back in return. This won’t go on forever. It will inevitably end, as all great empires do.”

“We in The West have a choice to make in the meantime; either help create a new, fairer world, or let the greed of our ruling classes become the undoing of all of us.”

The first glimpse of new material from the quartet, ‘Secret Speech’ starts as Not A Sound In Heaven means to go on—a politically-charged wrecking ball of a song that smashes its way through the often unbelievable chaos and brutality of the 21st century with vitriolic malice.

How do you capture the machinations of the geo-political industrial war machine—and all the horrors that go with it—in the studio, without seeming trite or crass? That’s the question that Sugar Horse have posed themselves on their forthcoming third album Not A Sound In Heaven, and they must surely be one of the only bands in existence capable of delivering on just that premise with both musical substance and cutting philosophical insight.

“Ever since I was born I can remember visions of war, famine, and death being beamed directly into my living room via the magic of television,” says Tubb of the record. “These visions were accompanied by newsreader narratives designed to either humanise or dehumanise the people involved. We humanise our government’s allies and dehumanise their enemies. This is taken as common sense, or even wisdom to some degree. People watch the news and accept it as fact, simple and true.”

“As a person gets older they move in one of three different directions with this acceptance of reality; They embrace what they’re being told, they fall into a kind of trust free nihilism or they learn that there are deeper narratives at play.”

“Not A Sound In Heaven is an aged acceptance of the latter. An acceptance of sitting at the centre of a global empire of both military and economic dimensions. An acceptance that the stories we’re told as a nation, or what’s generally in the zeitgeist, isn’t necessarily reality itself.”

“How does a person cope with the weight—and, frankly, the guilt—of a society that perpetuates such distinct inequalities? A society that thinks a bit of killing abroad is fine, as long as it improves the lives of people at home. You can see why so many choose to embrace it. Hell, nihilism seems pretty sensible. Once a person decides upon pursuing a degree of truth however, things get a bit depressing. Beyond depressing...maddening.”

“This album explores this kind of breezy, frivolous subject matter in a manner that will no doubt be uplifting to the listener and massively financially rewarding for the artist.”

The new album follows on from their standalone AA single ‘What’s Your ETA? Let’s Have A Tear Up’/‘Would You Like Me To Be The Cat?’ which was released late last year as a surprise double drop.

Longtime friend of the label Eraserhead returns after over a decade away from producing music due to his surreal MS Paint work as 'Jim'll Paint It' becoming an unexpected cultural phenomenon. With his debut full-length, 'Violence', Eraserhead presents a truly eclectic electronic LP featuring collaborations with established producers such as Om Unit, Enduser, and Brain Rays, as well as the vocal talents of Nadia Rose, Beans (of Antipop Consortium), and Cadence Weapon. An album held together by theme and tone rather than style or tempo, 'Violence' is the culmination of a bitter wave of inspiration, initially conceived in the wake of a personal tragedy that quickly grew into a broader polemic about the state of the world.

Originally linking up with Love Love in its breakcore netlabel infancy with his refined, breaks-heavy breakcore/gabba, Eraserhead's flair for tight, intricate productions was evident in his finely tuned tracks of controlled chaos. This time around, his work is a darker, more expansive evolution of his sound, with the scale upsized and the stylistic scope massively broadened, remaining unfaithful to any single genre, but with firm nods to Breakcore, Grime, Drum & Bass, Techno, Rave, Dubstep, and Footwork, all chewed up with a hard industrial edge and cinematically framed by a backdrop of apocalyptic synths.

Opening with the cold tech-noir of 'Shining Brainless Beacon' to set the tone, the album quickly locks in with the blistering spoken-word headrush of 'Hurricane With Teeth' alongside rapper Beans, before Om Unit lends his expertise on the sharp groove and clinical bass blasts of 'Operation Hardtack'. The album shifts and morphs constantly throughout the runtime, moving from the raw and urgent acid techno of 'Crowd Control' to the crunching military march of the Gore Tech collaboration 'No More Worlds' and the tribal sci-fi footwork of the Brain Rays collaboration 'Night Visions'. 'Monolith' provides a final burst of catharsis, channelling Underworld by way of Nine Inch Nails, complete with writhing screams from Amée Chanter of sludge-punk-noise-rock duo Human Leather, before the heart of the album is laid bare with the painfully bleak closing dirge of 'Animal'. In its final moments, 'Violence' leaves the listener suspended between devastation and awe - an unflinching portrait of an uncaring world.

Renowned producer, dj, artist and author Justin Robertson fresh from the success of his Five Green Moons project joins forces with composer and Stone Club co-founder Matthew Shaw on their tribute to mythical band MineralTail. An 11 track cosmic trip through krautrock, weird ambience and loose-limbed grooves that accompanies the story contained in Justin's new novel of the same name. Expect hypnotic electronics and ritualistic rhythms, swirling melodies and glorious riffs.

'Critics agree that the greatest album ever recorded is the self-titled debut by the MineralTail. Recorded after the extinction of humanity by the combination of a Megalithic stone and two dogs, the record remains peerless in its ingenuity, passion and inventiveness. An album that consistently remains at the top of all rankings and charts. Though all such accolades are meaningless, nonetheless its enduring appeal is obvious. Here, at last is the first reliable account of how that record was made. The recording techniques, the creative disputes, the true source of the sound. It is a story of sublime inspiration, skulduggery, time travel, beauty and conflict. But most importantly it is the story of music itself. Because held within the grooves of the MineralTail's breathtaking debut is the voice of God's most dazzling accident. Music.'

Four-time GRAMMY Award-nominated global superstar RAYE, is releasing her highly anticipated sophomore album THIS MUSIC MAY CONTAIN HOPE. The album, set in 4 “seasons” with each side of the vinyl being a different season, takes listeners on a sonic journey that begins with darkness and ends with light.

“Music is medicine. I’ve always said that, and I guess I’m in the process of making medicine for myself that I can share with the world. I want us all to say to ourselves that it’s going to be all right, and I’m going to have faith in the seeds that I’ve planted beneath the snow. I wanted to create something that is a hug or bed or soft place for that person who needs it.”

RAYE recently kicked off her massive 51-date sold-out arena tour THIS TOUR MAY CONTAIN NEW MUSIC includes arena dates across Europe and the UK — including six sold-out nights at The O2 — before heading to North America with stops at iconic venues such as Radio City Music Hall (April 15 and 16th) and the Greek Theatre (May 12 and 13th). Additionally, RAYE will be a special guest on Bruno Mars’ The Romantic Tour for 27 stadium shows across the US this summer.

Yeun Elez opens a breach: that of a forgotten threshold, a gateway to Hell concealed beneath the peat and legends of the Breton marshes, from which Hoel Moce borrows the name for this project.

Born from Celtic tales passed down in hushed tones, it summons wandering souls, suspended spirits, and those who have already reached the end of their journey. Having escaped from Techno Thriller, Hoel founded Yeun Elez in 2022, as an autonomous and haunting sonic territory.

Surrounded by talented collaborators (Maria: NaturaMorta, Lou Savary de Reymour), he weaves a ritualistic and visceral music, traversed by dreamlike landscapes, misty battlefields, and a fantastical medieval Brittany.

Between pagan symbolism and spectral visions, the project explores the murky depths of the human condition. Thus, birth, love, decline, death: the themes emerge as archaic truths. Betrayal and revenge exist alongside devotion and the quest for an ideal that transcends us.

Mixed by Luc Bersier (Reymour) and then mastered by Tioma Tchoulanov (UVB76, Nze Nze), this album by Yeun Elez doesn't reconstruct the past: it invents it to better haunt it.

Music like a rite of passage, both rooted and timeless, like an inner journey, dark and necessary, to a place where myths refuse to die.

As collaborative projects often do, 33 has in time found a more fixed form, a kind of structure that turned it from a loose collection of collaborators gravitating around founders Bill John Bultheel and Alexander Iezzi into something resembling more of a traditional band. Not that there is anything conventional in their creative process tho, nor in the music itself… Nontheless Tripolar - their second album and first for Haunter - seems to take them closer to song territory than ever before.

The (progressive) graduation of multi-instrumentalist Cem Dukkha and vocalist/clarinet player Ivan Cheng from collaborators to full-time members has brought 33 to a more refined awareness of their possibilities as a creative unit, although their compositional process has retained a high level of spontaneity and musical madness. Tripolar was in fact assembled by editing hours of improvisation that Bultheel, Iezzi and Dukkah recorded with no specific endgame in mind. The sessions saw them exchange a variety of acoustic, electronic and electric musical instruments: percussions, guitars, strings, piano, hurdy gurdy, synthesizers and even CDJs as a tool of live sampling manipulation.

By molding the pieces into what they are now, the band managed to concoct some beautiful vignettes of contradictory mental and emotional states, as sonically playful as a renaissance fair happening within a broken timestream. Cheng’s lyrical and vocal contributions helped them coalesce even further into proper songs, adding a melodic presence that’s at once seductive and uncanny. But vocal duties are often ceded to guests, namely Danish pop-neoclassicist Astrid Sonne, Kenyan metal guru Lord Spikeheart, Irish goth raconteur Olan Monk and Japanese body-poet Golin.The amount of different sounds arranged into each of the tracks produces a unique sense of awe and bewilderment, a testament to the incredible talent and craft the musicians have employed into putting together such a broad range of influences and approaches into a coherent and extremely effective musical journey.

An equally erratic thematic thread seems to run through all the tracks, one ultimately preoccupied with mental health and its ramifications. Without turning the project into a concept album, 33 and their collaborators have sprinkled it with references to personality disorders and mental conditions that are all too relevant to the contemporary age, reflecting on the lineage of human inner life. A wide display of lyrical and musical tools is employed to explore these themes, ranging from Sonne’s expressionist depiction of ADHD in the opener, to Cheng’s queer-themed reinvention of an Irish murder ballad in closing track ‘Babymusicc’. Tracing lateral trajectories for introspection, Tripolar is not only highly captivating, but it ultimately sounds esoteric in the best possible way: progressively revealing layer after layer of incredible aural magic, its true meaning living in the form and in its manic scope of energies.

With their third album, Inanimate Objects of the 21st Century, Newcastle’s The Pale White prove once again that there’s no slowing them down. Following the success of their introspective sophomore album The Big Sad, brothers Adam (vocals/guitar) and Jack Hope (drums) return louder, sharper, and more defiant than ever. This third full-length is their most expansive yet: a record that blends the anthemic punch of classic rock with the urgency and edge of modern alternative.The title, Inanimate Objects of the 21st Century, is a nudge to the uncomfortable irony of our time – as technology accelerates, humanity feels increasingly frozen in place. Lead singer Adam Hope says: “Technology is moving, but we are not. Human civilization entered the 21st century wide-eyed and naive with mobile phones that would barely fit in our pockets. Fast forward a few decades and we’re so far from where we were that it almost looks like a bad 80’s sci-fi movie. Back then, that film would be watched in packed-out cinemas after an eagerly anticipated release, but now they stand emptier than they once were, attended mainly as a nostalgic experience in the age of Netflix and doomscrolling.

The birth of AI, algorithms, cryptocurrency, drones, holographic concerts, autonomous cars… we’re living in a strange transitional period which is both fascinating and terrifying in equal measure. We humans have now in fact become the inanimate objects - mannequins.After our softer, melancholic second album ‘The Big Sad’, we felt it was only right to move as fast as our world is moving and release our next within the year. ‘Inanimate Objects of the 21st Century’ is the evil twin, the Yin to The Big Sad’s Yang.”

ESCAPE-ISM — the found-sound dreamdrama— are back in action & out in front. And this time, they’re leading a “Charge of the Love Brigade. ”This “charge” isn’t the traditional scramble across a muddy, bloody field though, like in the days of yore. This one is a furtive insinuation into the senses of the tuned-in listener.
Their fifth record, and fourth “sound” record — (the third one was “A Protest Against Sound”- an entirely silent LP) — “Charge of the Love Brigade” is revolutionary in its own right. Besides being packed with tunes — super-hits such as “Black Gold,” “Last Of The Sellouts,” “The Rebel Outlaw,” & “Fire in Malibu,” for exam- ple, Charge of the Love Brigade proposes a reformation of the traditional notes and scales; an entire new sound alphabet!
That’s right, ESCAPE-ISM —the “act of musical vandalism”— famous for their development of new prototypes for stomping & smashing, are reforming the scales, chords, & notes (e.g. A, B, F#, etc) that comprise musical literacy to achieve the group’s primary aim: the repurposing of music as we know it. Though many musicians of note have operated their instruments with "alternative tunings," up until now no one has obliterated tuning absolutely or abolished letter-notes for the destruction of bourgeois society.
According to ESCAPE-ISM, this will have a very profound effect: “Music will no longer be cordoned off from the rest of experience as a commodified, specialty freak show, but instead be a pastime which can be prac- ticed and enjoyed –not only by non-musicians and amateurs– but also by plant life, wild animals, and even inanimate objects such as rocks.
“The violent overthrow of musical conventions will lead to the reintegration of humanity into the natural order, the reordering of life itself into a cosmic congruity. This means the convention of time itself will be ended.” Like so-called nature itself, the ESCAPE-ISM group is also on a “loop.”
Play “Charge of the Love Brigade” and listen as ESCAPE-ISM go “over the top” against the note-letters of accepted musicality in a world premiere of a new upside-down antiscale.

Death Is Not The End reissue Mark Vernon's sought-after 2013 collection Sounds of a Modern Hospital on vinyl & cassette formats.

Whilst every effort has been made to record the subject in as great a degree of isolation as possible, the sound recordings you will hear on this record were made in a real working hospital and not under controlled conditions. Therefore, on occasion, you may hear some unavoidable background noise, conversations and other extraneous sounds.

All recordings were made by Mark Vernon at Forth Valley Royal Hospital, Larbert, Stirling Community Hospital and Falkirk Community Hospital between 2011 and 2013.

Repress on purple vinyl. Limited to 250 copies. "Our upcoming album, titled "Helichrysum," delves deep into the human experience, exploring the wounds we carry and the transformative power that lies within us. It serves as a culmination of the countless creative and personal choices we have made, leading us to a place of greater harmony within ourselves, with each other, and with our collective intentions. Musically speaking, the new album is a testament to our commitment to delivering a sonic experience that is unapologetically raw, adventurous, heavy, groovy and psychedelic. The choice to name the album after the Helichrysum plant, holds a significance as the plant symbolizes endurance, healing, immortality, and the power to overcome adversity, which mirror many of the themes throughout the record."

Just when you thought Kevin Richard Martin's music couldn’t go any slower, lower or deeper, Sub Zero emerges. A slow-motion excavation of drug-tech, dub, dreamy noise and frozen ambience, the album gradually mutates into hypnotic pulsations and melodic melancholia. It is arguably Martin’s most striking release to date under his given name.


Originally released digitally on Bandcamp only in the depths of winter 2022, amid the final year of the COVID-19 pandemic and Russia’s initial invasion of Ukraine, this desolate epic went on to become KRM's best-selling digital album on the platform. With persistent demand for a vinyl pressing and a full DSP release from fans, Martin thought the time was right for Sub Zero to finally surface in its full glory: remastered and paired with fresh new artwork.


Unnervingly, the album is as beautiful as it is solemn, as glacial as it is relentless, and as subtle as it is terrifying. A trip into a sonic abyss, with a tour of a philosophical void, it’s to my ears, KRM’s most seductive work yet, and also his most emotionally resonant. Martin expertly balances tear-jerking motifs with heavier than hell rhythmic weight. With its melodic fog, eternal drones and eerie atmospherics, the peripheral throb of distant kick drums, the heartbeat punctuation of cavernous subs and the snowstorm blizzard of fuzz absolutely envelopes the mind, whilst crushing the soul.


In terms of lineage, Sub Zero might recall a more paranoid Porter Ricks, a dystopian GAS, or a brutally dubbed-out Pan Sonic. Most fitting, however, is its kinship with the deepest dub terrain Martin previously explored on In Blue, The Bug’s acclaimed 2020 collaboration with Dis Fig for Hyperdub, where he obsessively probed subaqueous pulses and low-end modulations.


Sub Zero is possibly the most minimal, desolate, and deviant dub record yet released on Martin’s PRESSURE label. It marks the point at which dub disappears into its own effects trails. Dub music capturing frozen moments in time. Dub as an addictive painkiller, that sounds both sacred and ocean deep.

Death Is Not The End reissue Mark Vernon's sought-after 2013 collection Sounds of a Modern Hospital on vinyl & cassette formats.

Whilst every effort has been made to record the subject in as great a degree of isolation as possible, the sound recordings you will hear on this record were made in a real working hospital and not under controlled conditions. Therefore, on occasion, you may hear some unavoidable background noise, conversations and other extraneous sounds.

All recordings were made by Mark Vernon at Forth Valley Royal Hospital, Larbert, Stirling Community Hospital and Falkirk Community Hospital between 2011 and 2013.

Mia Zapata was the greatest rock singer of her time. She may have likely been the greatest blues singer in punk rock history, the woman who married the 78 and the '78. Tragedy did not make this true. Mia Zapata made this true, and the ferocious, spring-loaded shrapnel frame that was built around her by Andy Kessler (guitar: metronomic and furious), Matt Dresdner (bass: fluid, punching, beat-addicted and melodic), and Steve Moriarty (drums: martial and explosive) - who, with Mia, combined to form The Gits - made it true. The Gits were formed at Antioch College in Yellow Springs, Ohio in mid-1986, grabbing and swapping pieces of art, thrash, noise, punk rock, classic rock, and all the sorts of magical silly and bookish jingle bells that an old-school liberal arts education handed you; for the next few years they worked on turning it all into something tough, sensitive, both brutal and kind. Andy, Matt, Mia, and Steve moved to Seattle in middish 1989, landing in a house on Capitol Hill where they (and fellow travelers) wood-shedded and rehearsed for the next few years. The Gits put out three EPs in 1990 and '91 before signing with C/Z Records and releasing their first full-length album, Frenching the Bully. Seattle quickly claimed the quartet as their own and embraced the Gits blend of ferocious fangs and soft heart, the slug/slap of the guitars, and the gorgeous, soft underbelly of the poetic emotions. These qualities not only fit in with the doe-eyed/sharp-clawed grunge ethos but earned the Gits the respect of their peers, including Nirvana, who tapped them to open a major local show in 1990. Then other stuff happened, and their frantic, confessional barbed-heart snowball began rolling up hill very, very fast; the Gits "quickly" (hah! After half a decade learning to implode and explode hearts and stomping their boots on manifold beer-softened, Marlboro-weeded wood stages!) inspired rapture, awe, and the levitation that happened when peak emotion meets peak grindage in front of amps spitting out something that sounded like the mad marriage of Bolan swagger and Dischord tension_ all fronted by a genuinely incomparable woman who held her heart in her mouth and shared it, in all its celebration and fear, without hesitation. The Gits were an angry, inflamed slinky fully in tune with and tuned by the Bessie Patti Smith of her time, truly the only singer who could summon Joplin, Poly Styrene, Sam Cooke, Iggy Pop and Ian MacKaye all in the same goddamn song. In 1993, less than four weeks after accepting an offer from Atlantic Records, Mia died. I leave it at that, because this is not about death; it's about an extraordinary life. I do not say, "You should have been there," I say, "We are lucky so many of us were, and I am so glad we have this extraordinary evidence of the power and gifts of Mia and the Gits that you now can hold in your hands." And I note that Frenching the Bully, this extraordinary testament to the soul, shock, fury and feeling of the Gits, has been long out of print on vinyl and CD, and this new edition - remastered by legendary Seattle engineer Jack Endino - joyfully rectifies that. -Tim Sommer

At the start of this summer, following a three-year hiatus for Daphni (punctuated only by his first ever collaborative Daphni track ‘Unidos’ alongside Sofia Kourtesis), he dropped ‘Sad Piano House’. The track represented something of a continuation in the Daphni catalogue, its roots growing from Cherry’s ‘Cloudy’ and its subsequent Kelbin remix, something in that song’s makeup having a profound effect when played on dancefloors by Snaith and countless others. ‘Sad Piano House’ deployed more intangibly irresistible bendy piano to equally satisfying effect and continues to achieve similarly rhapsodic dancefloor saturation.
Though a sizeable gap for Daphni releases, between Cherry and Butterfly however of course sits Honey, the latest Caribou album and one that saw the more instantaneous and dancefloor leaning traits of Daphni peaking through the cracks more than ever before. This blurring of the lines leads to an intriguing collaboration in Butterfly’s lead single ‘Waiting So Long (feat. Caribou)’. An unlikely duo - in that both artists are the same man, Dan Snaith - ‘Waiting So Long’ is not so much an identity crisis, ego trip, or the result of a chemical spill in the Snaith laboratory. It’s simply a track that Snaith felt for the first time belongs to both aliases, and might appeal to fans of both. He has never sung on a Daphni track before, and did not set out with the intention to do so this time, and yet this strange billing was born.

Daphni music has always been Snaith’s way of hitting directly to the core of the dancefloors he spends so much of his time playing to, and those dancefloors have been steadily expanding as his name grows, with the music following suit. This album however also draws from further back with a definite kinship to the very first Daphni album, the invigorating bag of ideas that was Jiaolong.
Butterfly is a showcase of the wonderful variety and surprising twists and turns that made that album such an exciting new prospect and that still to this day make Snaith such an intriguing DJ. There are more heavy hitters here, tracks that fill those dancefloors better than anyone, like ‘Clap Your Hands’ which picks up the energy of ‘Sad Piano House’ and flips it, exposing the gritty and intoxicating underbelly of Snaith’s hitmaking side, while retaining the playful urgency that runs through all of his work of late. Meanwhile ‘Hang’’s comic-strip horns are unpinned by gleeful force, unrelenting and thrillingly unshakeable. Elsewhere though comes a clutch of other tunes that might creep out somewhere more off the beaten path, a path Snaith has never stopped seeking in amongst his larger billings. ‘Lucky’ is squirmy and elusively intoxicating, ‘Invention’ skitters down meandering, inviting corridors, ‘Talk To Me’ grumbles and broods in the murk, and ‘Miles Smiles’ could roll on endlessly, so confident in its groove. There are no obvious peaks in these tracks or unifying moments, in fact many of them really have no business being on the dancefloor at all, and yet in the right setting, they could be the most fun to be had all night.

One such club is a good microcosm for the ethos of Butterfly as a whole. “Around the time I was finishing up this album I played a long set in a club called Open Ground in Wuppertal, Germany.” Snaith recalls, “It’s kind of, in one sense, the platonic ideal of the kind of club I’d want to play in. Every single decision has been taken, at great expense, with the aim of making the perfect sounding medium sized club room. But on top of it being the perfect acoustic environment it also is run by an amazing collection of people in a way that gives it a sense of community that dance music at its best provides. It is an absolute pleasure to play in that room to a crowd of people who come from all over. Playing in there you feel like you can play anything, and I played works in progress of pretty much every track on this album in my set there. Don’t get me wrong, I love playing a short set at a festival or in a more raw warehouse kind of club where you bang it out and only really functional music works but on record I guess the point of these Daphni records is to keep in mind a more expansive idea of dance music where the parameters are broad and the church is broad. I think that actually, putting really functional stuff next to weirder tracks (both on an album and in a dj set) might be the thing that’s still most interesting to me.”
This is the feeling that’s most palpable on Butterfly, and in every single time you see Snaith DJ. Right from the inception of the Daphni alias - and even before that – the thrill of trying stuff out, pushing at the boundaries has always been there and on Butterfly is present in all its twists and turns. It leaps all over the place and yet it hangs together, never feeling like a grab bag of dancefloor utilities but rather a distillation of all the strings to Snaith’s bow, exhilaratingly human and unified by one singular concept – simple and joyful exploration.

When you listen to birds, they usually talk about food, sex/family, or anxiety. If they knew about the true nature of humanity's cruel and exploitative relationship with birds, they would be discussing rebellion. Humanity's current trajectory about birds is to cause the extinction of one-third of all bird species by the end of this century.

This record crystallises the borders between memory, beauty, and anxiety. At the core is an amalgam of all the birds we have met and heard, their sounds synthesised from a blend of memories. Esthetically it simulates the qualities of bird sounds, hitting similar frequential sweet spots. There is a great variety of birds captured here, from high to low frequencies, from solo voices to groups, from birds standing on their own to complex world-building, where the bird voices are part of an ecosystem, becoming one of the instruments.

You could stop there, enjoying this record on a musical level, but it invites us to do one step further, to consider reconfiguring our relationship with the Earth and its inhabitants. To question our impact, and to ask why we need synthetic bird music. Is it just a visionary endeavour or is it because we are failing at fostering a world in which organic birds and other creatures can thrive?

32 artists from the whole world, including our favourite artists from Eastern Europe, have contributed to this compilation both with new and previously released music. Their music is ordered from dawn to dusk and into the night. For many of the artists it's their first time on mappa, but some have previously released an album with us.

A chance meeting in Mexico City set Points of Inaccessibility into motion. When Ibero-American composer Rafael Anton Irisarri crossed paths with Dutch media artist Jaco Schilp at MUTEK in 2024, a conversation about how technology shapes perception revealed an unexpected common ground. Schilp invited Irisarri to a spring 2025 residency at Uncloud, the Utrecht-based collective he co-founded, where Irisarri's sound began to take form amid an environment shaped by Schilp’s visual research.

The Uncloud studio was located inside the former Pieter Baan Centre, a forensic psychiatric prison where suspects of violent crimes were once confined. Its long history of silence and containment shaped the atmosphere in which the project developed. Within this setting, Irisarri coaxed long bowed-guitar tones through a network of pedals and looping systems. The raw gestures thickened into a vaporous and architectural field of sound. Schilp processed the material through a custom point-cloud software patch that produced images in continuous flux. The visuals flickered, dissolved and reformed like memories that resist coherence, functioning as a digital Rorschach that reflected the observer’s own perception.

Amid these spectral echoes, the project evolved into an examination of how the past persists within present signals. Memory endures as residue and interference, continually shaping perception even when its source has faded.

Schilp’s visual process required a continuous stream of sound in real time. Irisarri improvised throughout the residency, generating material that allowed the visuals to develop in parallel. Once back in his New York studio, he began shaping the recordings by carving pathways through the improvisations and mapping selected passages into MIDI. This process allowed him to build outward from the bowed-guitar material with minimal overdubs, adding Prophet 5 textures, Moog bass and strings that expanded the harmonic field while keeping the original performances at the center. To refine the structure, Abul Mogard provided editorial input, working with Irisarri’s stems to guide transitions and strengthen the overall pacing. The material, originally created under conditions of immediacy and constraint, evolved into a fully realized work through careful revision, patience and sustained reworking.

The title engages the geographic concept of the Poles of Inaccessibility, locations defined solely by their distance from all surrounding points. Irisarri adapts this idea to the conditions of digital life, where new forms of inaccessibility arise through the informational enclosures that structure perception. What appears to be a fully connected network often produces a deeper kind of separation, one shaped by the filtering logic of the systems that mediate experience. In this sense, the digital sphere mirrors its geographic counterpart. We inhabit spaces saturated with signals, yet the possibility of genuine contact becomes increasingly remote.

At its core, Points of Inaccessibility considers what can be understood as the new rituals of capitalist realism. Irisarri uses the term digital shamanism to describe the forms of simulated connection that organize contemporary life. These systems promise comfort through algorithms, influencers and AI interlocutors, yet they often reproduce the same conditions that generate loneliness in the first place. What appears as connection becomes the echo of connection, a sequence of gestures that imitate solidarity while withholding it. Like the geographic poles, these rituals are defined by distance. They pull us into environments where everything is illuminated, yet meaningful proximity becomes increasingly rare. In this sense, the work approaches a hauntology of the present, a reflection on futures that have stalled and intimacies that have been thinned by the algorithmic infrastructures that surround us.

This thematic tension unfolds across the album’s four movements. Faded Ghosts of Clouds introduces the work with textures that rise and dissipate in slow cycles, creating an atmosphere that resists clear definition. Breaking the Unison occupies a pivotal position in the sequence and focuses on the moment when the individual and the system fall out of alignment. Its shifting patterns trace the scattering of signals that once suggested connection, revealing the instability at the heart of contemporary perception. Signals from a Distant Afterglow forms the center of the album and features vocals by Karen Vogt, whose presence enters the sound field like a fragile transmission shaped by distance and delay. The closing piece, Memory Strands, follows motifs that appear, recede and briefly intersect before returning to quiet. Across these movements, the album outlines a landscape in which emergence and disappearance continually inform one another.

Listening to Points of Inaccessibility is an encounter with a sound field that is constantly in flux. Elements surface briefly, shift position and recede, creating a sense of motion that resists stable interpretation. The music moves between closeness and vastness, carrying traces of memory while withholding a clear point of resolution.

The album’s visual identity completes the project’s conceptual arc. In Mexico City, where Irisarri and Schilp first met, Daniel Castrejón transformed stills from Schilp’s point-cloud visuals into the cover image. The final artwork captures a single suspended frame of the digital material, a moment extracted from a field that is normally in constant motion. Its surface recalls the texture and abstraction found in the work of Catalan artist Antoni Tàpies, where material presence and erasure coexist within the same plane.

What emerges is a work that examines the tension between technological systems and human presence. Points of Inaccessibility asks whether connection is still possible within environments shaped by mediation and delay, or whether we have become isolated points within the very networks that promise proximity. What possibilities for relation persist within environments organized by algorithms and interruption? And how are we meant to understand presence when so much of it is constructed at a distance?

Points of Inaccessibility will be released on BioVinyl on February 6, 2026, with audiovisual performances planned throughout 2026.

Mastered by Stephan Mathieu
Artwork by Jaco Schilp
Design and layout by Daniel Castrejón
Artist photo by Iulia Alexandra Magheru.

Wigwam's previously unreleased rare live recording from 1976 out in February via Svart Records In the summer of 1976, Wigwam performed not only in Finland but also in Sweden, Denmark, the Netherlands, and Germany. However, the pace slowed down afterward. The early autumn tours planned for European countries were cancelled, and even the replacement shows in Finland had to be postponed due to bassist Måns “Måsse” Groundstroem's sick leave. In October 1976 an opening appeared in the schedule for a studio session, during which Jim Pembroke’s third solo album, Corporal Cauliflower’s Mental Function, was recorded. After that, Wigwam played five gigs in Denmark at the end of November, followed by an equal number in Sweden. No exact information has survived about the concert setlists, but the band was in a stable phase, and certain songs had become staples in their live repertoire. Albums from Wigwam's deep-pop era, which began in autumn 1974, as well as Pembroke’s first solo records had already been released, and rehearsals were underway for what would become the Dark Album, released in 1977. It can be said that this concert, recorded for Danish Radio, is a strong representation of the band’s era at the time. The recording took place in northern Denmark, in a district called Lundtofte in Lyngby. Before this, Wigwam had performed in Køge and Århus, and after Lundtofte, gigs in Ballerup and Copenhagen awaited. Lundtofte was home to the Danish Technical University (DTU), where a student venue called “Studenterhuset” (Building 101) hosted a one- to two-day music events known as Polyjoint during the 1970’s. The events typically featured Danish bands, but also visiting acts like Wigwam. Most importantly, Danish Radio was sometimes present at these events. Wigwam had performed a studio concert for Danish Radio the previous year, but this particular recording is considered the more energetic of the two. Details have faded with time — for example, the identity of the second act at the concert is unknown. In any case, both guitarist Pekka “Rekku” Rechardt and keyboardist Pedro Hietanen remember the band being in high spirits, in top form, and highly motivated.

Wigwam's previously unreleased rare live recording from 1976 out in February via Svart Records In the summer of 1976, Wigwam performed not only in Finland but also in Sweden, Denmark, the Netherlands, and Germany. However, the pace slowed down afterward. The early autumn tours planned for European countries were cancelled, and even the replacement shows in Finland had to be postponed due to bassist Måns “Måsse” Groundstroem's sick leave. In October 1976 an opening appeared in the schedule for a studio session, during which Jim Pembroke’s third solo album, Corporal Cauliflower’s Mental Function, was recorded. After that, Wigwam played five gigs in Denmark at the end of November, followed by an equal number in Sweden. No exact information has survived about the concert setlists, but the band was in a stable phase, and certain songs had become staples in their live repertoire. Albums from Wigwam's deep-pop era, which began in autumn 1974, as well as Pembroke’s first solo records had already been released, and rehearsals were underway for what would become the Dark Album, released in 1977. It can be said that this concert, recorded for Danish Radio, is a strong representation of the band’s era at the time. The recording took place in northern Denmark, in a district called Lundtofte in Lyngby. Before this, Wigwam had performed in Køge and Århus, and after Lundtofte, gigs in Ballerup and Copenhagen awaited. Lundtofte was home to the Danish Technical University (DTU), where a student venue called “Studenterhuset” (Building 101) hosted a one- to two-day music events known as Polyjoint during the 1970’s. The events typically featured Danish bands, but also visiting acts like Wigwam. Most importantly, Danish Radio was sometimes present at these events. Wigwam had performed a studio concert for Danish Radio the previous year, but this particular recording is considered the more energetic of the two. Details have faded with time — for example, the identity of the second act at the concert is unknown. In any case, both guitarist Pekka “Rekku” Rechardt and keyboardist Pedro Hietanen remember the band being in high spirits, in top form, and highly motivated.

Im Gegensatz zu den früheren Alben der Lost Boys, die innerhalb eines bestimmten Zeitraums produziert wurden, entstand „Pale Bloom“ langsam und versuchte, einen Schöpfungsmythos in seinem Bernstein einzufrieren – eine Ursprungsgeschichte, die uralt und komplex ist, voller Geheimnisse und Metaphern, die weder einer Klärung noch eines Endes bedarf. Jede Veröffentlichung der Lost Boys wagt sich in neues musikalisches und lyrisches Terrain vor. Von allen greift „Pale Bloom“ am weitesten zurück in die Kindheit und findet unbewusst die Rhythmen und Erzählstile, die in den Zwängen einer religiösen Erziehung verwurzelt sind. Beim Durchforsten der vergessenen Akkorde, Refrains und Melodien aus alten Kinderreimen und Volksliedern entdeckten sie den Wunsch, diese überlieferten Klänge in Richtung persönlicherer Wahrheiten zu verändern. Dieser Impuls ist auf dem gesamten Album präsent und in Krugers ebenso klangvoller wie euphorischer Stimme zu hören, wenn sie die verschiedenen lyrischen Formen um ihre eigene Sehnsucht, Trauer und Begierde herumlegt und sie darauf vorbereitet, in der üppigen und großzügigen Subversion der erinnerten Rhythmen der Band zu landen. Im Gegensatz zu ihrem Auftritt auf „Heaving“ und „A Human Home“ sind die Streicher hier weniger affektiert und haben einen eher düsteren und ernsten Charakter angenommen. Sie streben nach einer komplexen Art von Himmel, der durch das Gewicht und die Bodenständigkeit der Grooves ermöglicht wird, die sowohl stoisch als auch ausdrucksstark sind. Die Gitarren bewegen sich frei zwischen weitläufigen, voluminösen Räumen und sind ebenso knirschend wie sanft. Kruger nahm das Album mit ihren Bandkollegen und ihrem engen Mitarbeiter André Leo über einen Zeitraum von sechs Monaten in verschiedenen Studios in Berlin auf. Das Album wurde von Simon Ratcliffe gemischt.

Rhiza Semar presents its fourth chapter with Yildizlara, a four-track odyssey shaped from shadow, rhythm, and elemental texture. Crafted as both visceral tools and introspective journeys, the record navigates between ominous density and luminous release, guided by a deep awareness of space, myth, and matter. As an artist, Hitam paves the way for a new sound emerging from his burrows to build bridges between electronic subgenres while shaping a landscape unmistakably his own. Orb Weaver opens the cycle with jagged IDM rhythms that coil and release like threads of a web pulled taut. Originally composed for the graduation project of fashion designer Tim van der Plas, who's collection was inspired on climbing out of depression, its atmosphere is dark and ceremonial, with textures scraping against silence until catharsis emerges from the tension. A confrontation between inner turmoil and release. On Vanishing of the Anasazi, cavernous reverbs carry traces of lost structures, percussion echoing as if across ruins. A relentless drive holds the ghost of ritual processions, summoning a spectral energy that feels at once monumental and hollowed-out. The track suspends itself between presence and absence, architecture and collapse, leaving the listener in a space where echoes become the only surviving form of memory. Mesh Grip plunges downward into subterranean force. A thundering groove rumbles like minerals being unearthed, goblin-like figures at work in hidden shafts, chiseling away at stone in endless rhythm. From this pressure, a sudden swell of melancholy pads rises, reframing the heaviness with emotional resonance as if the whispers of angelic guardians seep into the caverns, transforming extraction into elegy. What begins as pure drive of endurance evolves into an introspective meditation. Closing the release, Yildizlara unfolds as an epic ascent. Layered rhythms rush forward with urgency, intricate yet propulsive, while chopped vocals bring back a sensual human element, scattering like signals across the night sky. Animalistic atmospheres dart through the mix as spectral cries and furtive movements, adding a primal dimension to the drive. What begins as erratic and untamed slowly converges into warmth and ultimate catharsis: a cosmic tale inscribed in sound, both intimate and monumental, familiar yet born of hidden memory. Yildizlara is both innovative and ancestral; a release where turbulence becomes ritual, and where rhythmic complexity unearths fragments of hidden memory. Beneath its dark and erratic surfaces lies a strange familiarity, like echoes of a primal past resurfacing through sound, reminding us of worlds once known but long concealed. Words by A. Veyra