A total sonic violation yet bewitchingly beautiful, ‘While My Machines Gently Weep’ sits on the precipice of overload, with Orwellian echoes of humanity’s ugliness.
Acid Rejects Volume 1. A minimal sonic ritual which transcends into a sublime 303 and 909 duel.
Pressed on a ltd 12” with the Acid Rejects Vol 1. as a vinyl exclusive.
Mastered by Rashad Becker.
Emergent polymath Brother Aten makes his first outing on Bruk with an icy slice of system-ready
minimalism, guided by the cooly detached voice of Ze R.
Taking cues from cult sci-fi and early 80s no wave, Fragmented Dystopia is a crystal clear
statement trimmed of all unnecessary baggage. The title spells out the mood — Aten's
soundscapes are stark and synthetic machine mantras punched out on outboard instruments
navigating gritty, futuristic zones.
On 'Unavailable' steadily humming drones shape the space in which Ze R. hovers, initially
delivering a deadpan denial before their humanity sneaks in as the track snakes through an
intricate lattice of crisp digital percussion. Short and razor-sharp two-parter 'Fragmented Dystopia'
finds an even sparser corner to occupy within Aten's subtly cyberpunk vision, where Ze R.'s
scattered words cut a measured figure delivered at acute angles before breaking into wilder forms
at the end of Part 2.
Originally from Brooklyn and now based in Berlin, Brother Aten has been weaving a fascinating
tapestry of audio and visual work as MAF. His artwork examines the fraught relationship between
technology and society. Ze R. explores dimensions of sexuality, subjectivity and individualism
through writing, performance and community organisation.
Powerful works of art have traditionally sprung from some source deep within an artist and, if they strike the right tone, resonate with an audience to leave a lasting mark. But what if that equation were reversed: what if an artist were to draw their inspiration from deep within their audience, and use that to reflect those ideas, emotions, hopes, fears, pains and aspirations back to us?
Over a two year journey, audio-visual artist and electronic innovator Max Cooper has inverted the creative process by collecting hundreds of anonymous quotes, posing deep but open questions such as "What would you like to express which you cannot in everyday life?" and "What is it like to exist inside your head?"
The goal: to understand what it is truly like to be human right now. The result: his new album On Being, to be released in February 2025 with the first single "Sun In A Box" coming this September 4th.
With On Being, Cooper aimed to probe under the synthetic surface of social media to "create a snapshot of our minds these days," as he puts it by asking people to share anonymously what they dare not ever say publicly. The result is an emotionally raw and shockingly honest kaleidoscope of confessions, ranging from suicide contemplations to miserable marriages to simple pure loneliness, contrasting with hundreds of anonymous confessions of love and longing.
"I was interested in the way I interact with people for my writing process, which usually involves a one-way communication of feelings and ideas that I later find out whether they resonate with others or not," says Cooper.
"With this I could start instead with people's thoughts and feelings, what resonates for them, and make my own interpretations of those musically and visually, and then send those back out to everyone. It's more of a collaborative approach to making an album, and more intense."
Grief, hope, regret, joy, hurt and love form the basis for each track, taking Cooper's ever-evolving creative process in a completely new direction - with profoundly intense results.
"Rendering the experience of being is at the core of what I do musically - but I hadn't realised the impact that other people's words on being would have on me until I started reading the database of thoughts," he says.
"It was like finding a secret window into everyone's minds, and discovering amongst the chaos, pleasure and pain, the experiences that we all share at different times of our lives, and overwhelming emotions and connections that call out to be explored."
Despite what we see in the maelstrom of rage in the echo chambers of society ‘On Being’ reveals that humans still have an innate need to trust one another and express communal generosity - more easily done from the safety of an anonymous portal.
"The quotes carried so much weight for me - I interpreted them with my usual musical tools, but as you can hear in the music, everything got more extreme as I dove into the depths of what everyone had to say later in the record," says Cooper.
The result is a unique work of art that demonstrates unequivocally not only the power of using music without words to express emotions, but the power of words to express what seemed to be inexpressible.
On Being will continue to evolve as Cooper gathers more confessions to feed into this ecosystem of emotions and to create a new range of art projects and other accompanying works which hopefully will speak truthfully to humanity today - and of who we are and who we can become.
There are records that come from the soul. No matter how primitive may be the recording techniques the musician has access to, the soul gets its way to the heart and mind of the listener. Samtvogel' is one of those records. Günter Schickert recorded that amazing piece of human greatness in 1974, using the media he had at the time, putting his brain at work to find the best way of taping everything he had to say. When I was recording Samtvogel' in 1974 I had only 2 Taperecorders. I played one track and while listening I added the second one. And so on. Four times. When I mixed all together I borrowed a 3rd taperecorder. And still added the last track to the master. I had a small mixer with 2 stereo and 1 mono but it was possible to pan tracks. No equalization. It all came out of my still living G2000 Dynacord guitar amplifier, of course valve, with no master, even the voice recorded through it. If I made a mistake in 1 track I had to repeat it from the beginning. And if while mixing I was not fast enough in changing the tape I had to start again. So it took me more than 3 months to get ready.'
Thanks to these three months of work, between June and September of 1974, 'Samtvogel' was privately issued that same year. It would later be issued on the Brain label, with a small change in the artwork -titles added to the front cover, which weren't on the original private pressing. Brain also reissued it on the label's Rock On Brain' LP series, this time with a completely different sleeve. The album contained two tracks on side one and just one on side two, and its sound has often been compared to the most explorative works of Syd Barret - however it must be pointed that Schickert did not need any mind spreading substances to allow his sounds float out of his mind & soul, they just came out in the most natural way. It will also appeal to fans of the echoed athmosferic guitar work of other kraut innovators such as Ash Ra Tempel, Manuel Götsching or A.R. & The Machines, and some may find on the vocal passages certain resemblances to Damo Suzuki on Can's 'Tago-Mago' era.
The Wah Wah reissue is housed in a quality sleeve that reproduces that of the original 1974 private pressing and features a 4 page insert with liners and photos - sound remastered at Eastside mastering Berlin. Get this bird now, before it flies away again!
There are records that come from the soul. No matter how primitive may be the recording techniques the musician has access to, the soul gets its way to the heart and mind of the listener. Samtvogel' is one of those records. Günter Schickert recorded that amazing piece of human greatness in 1974, using the media he had at the time, putting his brain at work to find the best way of taping everything he had to say. When I was recording Samtvogel' in 1974 I had only 2 Taperecorders. I played one track and while listening I added the second one. And so on. Four times. When I mixed all together I borrowed a 3rd taperecorder. And still added the last track to the master. I had a small mixer with 2 stereo and 1 mono but it was possible to pan tracks. No equalization. It all came out of my still living G2000 Dynacord guitar amplifier, of course valve, with no master, even the voice recorded through it. If I made a mistake in 1 track I had to repeat it from the beginning. And if while mixing I was not fast enough in changing the tape I had to start again. So it took me more than 3 months to get ready.'
Thanks to these three months of work, between June and September of 1974, 'Samtvogel' was privately issued that same year. It would later be issued on the Brain label, with a small change in the artwork -titles added to the front cover, which weren't on the original private pressing. Brain also reissued it on the label's Rock On Brain' LP series, this time with a completely different sleeve. The album contained two tracks on side one and just one on side two, and its sound has often been compared to the most explorative works of Syd Barret - however it must be pointed that Schickert did not need any mind spreading substances to allow his sounds float out of his mind & soul, they just came out in the most natural way. It will also appeal to fans of the echoed athmosferic guitar work of other kraut innovators such as Ash Ra Tempel, Manuel Götsching or A.R. & The Machines, and some may find on the vocal passages certain resemblances to Damo Suzuki on Can's 'Tago-Mago' era.
The Wah Wah reissue is housed in a quality sleeve that reproduces that of the original 1974 private pressing and features a 4 page insert with liners and photos - sound remastered at Eastside mastering Berlin. Get this bird now, before it flies away again!
There are records that come from the soul. No matter how primitive may be the recording techniques the musician has access to, the soul gets its way to the heart and mind of the listener. Samtvogel' is one of those records. Günter Schickert recorded that amazing piece of human greatness in 1974, using the media he had at the time, putting his brain at work to find the best way of taping everything he had to say. When I was recording Samtvogel' in 1974 I had only 2 Taperecorders. I played one track and while listening I added the second one. And so on. Four times. When I mixed all together I borrowed a 3rd taperecorder. And still added the last track to the master. I had a small mixer with 2 stereo and 1 mono but it was possible to pan tracks. No equalization. It all came out of my still living G2000 Dynacord guitar amplifier, of course valve, with no master, even the voice recorded through it. If I made a mistake in 1 track I had to repeat it from the beginning. And if while mixing I was not fast enough in changing the tape I had to start again. So it took me more than 3 months to get ready.'
Thanks to these three months of work, between June and September of 1974, 'Samtvogel' was privately issued that same year. It would later be issued on the Brain label, with a small change in the artwork -titles added to the front cover, which weren't on the original private pressing. Brain also reissued it on the label's Rock On Brain' LP series, this time with a completely different sleeve. The album contained two tracks on side one and just one on side two, and its sound has often been compared to the most explorative works of Syd Barret - however it must be pointed that Schickert did not need any mind spreading substances to allow his sounds float out of his mind & soul, they just came out in the most natural way. It will also appeal to fans of the echoed athmosferic guitar work of other kraut innovators such as Ash Ra Tempel, Manuel Götsching or A.R. & The Machines, and some may find on the vocal passages certain resemblances to Damo Suzuki on Can's 'Tago-Mago' era.
The Wah Wah reissue is housed in a quality sleeve that reproduces that of the original 1974 private pressing and features a 4 page insert with liners and photos - sound remastered at Eastside mastering Berlin. Get this bird now, before it flies away again!
2023 was a whirlwind year for Oracle Sisters. The trio—Julia Johansen, Chris Willatt, and Lewis Lazar—followed the release of their debut album Hydranism with a globe-spanning tour that captivated fans and critics alike. From the highways between Knoxville and Nashville to sold-out clubs in rain-soaked Seattle, and festival stages across the UK, they logged countless hours on the road. Their journey was a tapestry of exhaustion and exhilaration, falling apart, brawls and disputes, love and acceptance. By the year’s end, just two days before Christmas, they found themselves in Tokyo, reflecting on the fleeting nature of time and the fragments of inspiration gathered along the way. It was there the seeds for their next album, Divinations, began to sprout. Composing as a true trio for the first time, Oracle Sisters pieced together sketches formed during stolen moments on tour. These fragments coalesced into Divinations, an album shaped by the band’s nomadic existence. The recording sessions spanned cozy Parisian studios, a barn in northern France, and the storied Valentine Studios in Los Angeles. Their creative process embraced experimentation—swapping primary instruments, playing with toy drum machines, and crafting melodies on quirky tools like the OP-1 and a baby Casio keyboard. This spirit of discovery lent the album a sense of spontaneity and wonder. At its core, Divinations channels mysticism and timeless storytelling. The band’s songwriting draws on diverse influences, from the surrealist poetry of Baudelaire and Rimbaud to the introspective philosophies of Carl Jung. Musically, echoes of Talking Heads, Air, and Leonard Cohen resonate throughout the album and tracks like “Riverside” delve into existential questions— “How far are you going? Is it more than money can buy?” Elsewhere on the album “Marseille,” born in the city that gave the song its name, kicks off as a trance with lyrics that play between the sincere and desperate self-help affirmations, we give ourselves while trying to find a bridge between our individual lives and a universal feeling. Lead-single “Alouette” is Oracle Sisters at their most direct; propelled by a driving bassline and exuberant strings, the track summons the sound of 80’s, 90’s, and early 2000’s rock n roll as they sing about “getting out of dodge, finding a pirate ship and sailing home.” Inspired by the book Caliban and the Witch, “Blue Left Hand” is a lyrical tapestry weaving together history, philosophy, and cultural critique. The lyrics, “It’s in the harbor of every page / It’s in the corner of the playwright’s stage / And every player and every fake / And every witch that we burned at the stake,” reflect on the forces that shaped the capitalist society we know today. Across Divinations’ 11 tracks it’s not only geographic boundaries that were crossed but also the boundaries of time and circumstance. While their work may not consciously reflect specific worldly events, they seek to embrace the universal and offer a space for healing. “Good music would make sense to a farmer in 17th century France as it would to a pastry chef in Slovenia in the 21st century,” shares Lazar. “It’s not written for any temporal powers that be. It’s about expressing our common humanity and taking it from there.” This intuitive approach fuels Oracle Sisters creative process - whether composing in a frozen French farmhouse or performing live with an ever-expanding lineup of collaborators, the band remains committed to exploring the unknown. Through Divinations, they hope to leave listeners feeling transcendent, levitating on waves of intuition and discovery.
Vol 2[28,99 €]
Volume 1 of this expertly curated project of 90s Italian House - put together by Don Carlos.
If Paradise was half as nice… by Fabio De Luca.
Googling “paradise house”, the first results to pop up are an endless list of European b&b’s with whitewashed lime façades, all of them promising “…an unmatched travel experience a few steps from the sea”. Next, a little further down, are the institutional websites of a few select semi-luxury retirement homes (no photos shown, but lots of stock images of smiling nurses with reassuring looks). To find the “paradise house” we’re after, we have to scroll even further down. Much further down.
It feels like yesterday, and at the same time it seems like a million years ago. The Eighties had just ended, and it was still unclear what to expect from the Nineties. Mobile phones that were not the size of a briefcase and did not cost as much as a car? A frightening economic crisis? The guitar-rock revival?! Certainly, the best place to observe that moment of transition was the dancefloor. Truly epochal transformations were happening there. From America, within a short distance one from the other, two revolutionary new musical styles had arrived: the first one sounded a bit like an “on a budget” version of the best Seventies disco-music – Philly sound made with a set of piano-bar keyboards! – the other was even more sparse, futuristic and extraterrestrial. It was a music with a quite distinct “physical” component, which at the same time, to be fully grasped, seemed to call for the knotty theories of certain French post-modern philosophers: Gilles Deleuze, Félix Guattari, Paul Virilio... Both those genres – we would learn shortly after – were born in the black communities of Chicago and Detroit, although listening to those vinyl 12” (often wrapped in generic white covers, and with little indication in the label) you could not easily guess whether behind them there was a black boy from somewhere in the Usa, or a girl from Berlin, or a pale kid from a Cornish coastal town.
Quickly, similar sounds began to show up from all corners of Europe. A thousand variations of the same intuition: leaner, less lean, happier, slightly less intoxicated, more broken, slower, faster, much faster... Boom! From the dancefloors – the London ones at least, whose chronicles we eagerly read every month in the pages of The Face and i-D – came tales of a new generation of clubbers who had completely stopped “dressing up” to go dancing; of hot tempered hooligans bursting into tears and hugging everyone under the strobe lights as the notes of Strings of Life rose up through the fumes of dry ice (certain “smiling” pills were also involved, sure). At this point, however, we must move on to Switzerland.
In Switzerland, in the quiet and diligent town of Lugano, between the 1980s and 1990s there was a club called “Morandi”. Its hot night was on Wednesdays, when the audience also came from Milan, Como, Varese and Zurich. Legend goes that, one night, none less than Prince and Sheila E were spotted hiding among the sofas, on a day-off of the Italian dates of the Nude Tour… The Wednesday resident and superstar was an Italian dj with an exotic name: Don Carlos. The soundtrack he devised was a mixture of Chicago, Detroit, the most progressive R&B and certain forgotten classics of old disco music: practically, what the Paradise Garage in New York might have sounded like had it not closed in 1987. In between, Don Carlos also managed to squeeze in some tracks he had worked on in his studio on Lago Maggiore. One in particular: a track that was rather slow compared to the BPM in fashion at the time, but which was a perfect bridge between house and R&B. The title was Alone: Don Carlos would explain years later that it had to be intended both in the English meaning of “by itself” and like the Italian word meaning “halo”. That wasn’t the only double entendre about the song, anyway. Its own very deep nature was, indeed, double. On the one hand, Alone was built around an angelic keyboard pattern and a romantic piano riff that took you straight to heaven; on the other, it showcased enough electronic squelches (plus a sax part that sounded like it had been dissolved by acid rain) to pigeonhole the tune into the “junk modernity” section, aka the hallmark of all the most innovative sounds of the time: music that sounded like it was hand-crafted from the scraps of glittering overground pop.
No one knows who was the first to call it “paradise house”, nor when it happened. Alternative definitions on the same topic one happened to hear included “ambient house”, “dream house”, “Mediterranean progressive”… but of course none were as good (and alluring) as “paradise house”. What is certain is that such inclination for sounds that were in equal measure angelic and neurotic, romantic and unaffective, quickly became the trademark of the second generation of Italian house. Music that seemed shyly equidistant from all the rhythmic and electronic revolutions that had happened up to that moment (“Music perfectly adept at going nowhere slowly” as noted by English journalist Craig McLean in a legendary field report for Blah Blah Blah magazine). Music that to a inattentive ear might have sounded as anonymous as a snapshot of a random group of passers-by at 10AM in the centre of any major city, but perfectly described the (slow) awakening in the real world after the universal love binge of the so-called Second Summer of Love.
For a brief but unforgettable season, in Italy “paradise house” was the official soundtrack of interminable weekends spent inside the car, darting from one club to another, cutting the peninsula from North to centre, from East to West coast in pursuit of the latest after-hours disco, trading kilometres per hour with beats per minute: practically, a new New Year’s Eve every Friday and Saturday night. This too was no small transformation, as well as a shock for an adult Italy that was encountering for the first time – thanks to its sons and daughters – the wild side of industrial modernity. The clubbers of the so-called “fuoriorario” scene were the balls gone mad in the pinball machine most feared by newspapers, magazines and TV pundits. What they did each and every weekend, apart from going crazy to the sound of the current white labels, was linking distant geographical points and non-places (thank you Marc Augé!) – old dance halls, farmhouses and business centres – transformed for one night into house music heaven. As Marco D’Eramo wrote in his 1995 essay on Chicago, Il maiale e il grattacielo: “Four-wheeled capitalism distorts our age-old image of the city, it allows the suburbs to be connected to each other, whereas before they were connected only by the centre (…) It makes possible a metropolitan area without a metropolis, without a city centre, without downtown. The periphery is no longer a periphery of any centre, but is self-centred”.
“Paradise house” perfectly understood all of this and turned it into a sort of cyber-blues that didn’t even need words, and unexpectedly brought back a drop of melancholic (post?)-humanity within a world that by then – as we would wholly realise in the decades to come – was fully inhuman and heartless. A world where we were all alone, and surrounded by a sinister yellowish halo, like a neon at the end of its life cycle. But, for one night at least, happy.
Rats on Rafts descend further into the brooding wasteland on their new album ‘Deep Below’, a darker, slower, eroded sound from the Rotterdam band. Highlighting different shades within the monochrome landscape compared to their previous, more colourful albums: they dive deeper into their psyche, questioning our relationships with nature, religion and each other. Echoes of The Cure, Cocteau Twins and Slowdive seem present yet so many different influences make up an album that only they could create. It sees Rats on Rafts coming of age whilst raising their heads from the underground. Forever drifting into new territory, ‘Deep Below’ is certainly their darkest and most cohesive work to date. True to their analogue recording process, the tape machines, reverbs, echoes and vital new ingredients: the Soundcraft 1s mixing desk (Used by Lee Perry) and the eerie sounding Eminent String Ensemble synth all amplify the authentic sounds of the 1980’s without sounding like a relic. ‘Japanese Medicine’ is a haunting minor chord piece driven by debris of icy chiming guitars, galloping drums and waves of lush synths. lyrically it gathers memories of teenage friendship, littered with cigarettes, life-changing records, punctuated with the dark thoughts and the demons they summon up. Though the band have kept the songs relatively slow-paced and sparse, deeper ruminations of mortality and alienation creep through the cracks. ‘Nature Breaks’, the most propulsive song on the record, thematically locks into this notion, as Fagan meditates on human impulse in the face of abject survival, and how those situations often unlock one's true self. You may conclude Rotterdam’s Rats on Rafts relationship with the past is complicated. ‘The Moon Is Big’ (2011) ‘Tape Hiss’ (2015) and ‘Excerpts From Chapter 3’ (2021) are truly gripping analog timestamps of a band refusing to give in to the supposed ‘progress of the world’ instead forging their own way each time. ‘Deep Below’ is Rats on Rafts’ most minimalist work since their 2011 debut. Where the latter album was fuelled by a brash bravado, these recordings meditate on sentiments of doubt, loss, and ageing. “One of the great contemporary European rock bands” Louder Than War
Dienne creates hazy pieces of music full of the melancholy of remembrance and loss combining analogue instruments with reverb-drenched vocals and shimmers of processed electronic sources. Her new album "Conducturis" emerges as a sensory exploration of the human spirit and the boundless horizons of artificial intelligence.
"Abundant in beauty and rich in disturbances" serves as the guiding principle for Belgian composer, Dienne, as she builds songs and soundscapes that portray the images and stories that play behind her eyes.
Combining analogue instruments like the oboe, the piano, and the flute with reverb-drenched vocals and shimmers of processed electronic sources, she creates hazy pieces of music full of the melancholy of remembrance and loss.
Her debut album Addio (2022) was released on Nicolás Jaar's Other People imprint. Addio is a 32-minute study on loss and mourning. Following the death of her grandmother due to Covid-19, and unable to say a proper goodbye due to travel restrictions, Dienne set out to give her "Addio" through musical form. The result is a deeply intimate work that channels classical instrumentation through foggy electronic experimentation.
Memories, biographies, and family histories merge in this simultaneously somber and optimistic work which plays out like a universal and comforting ode to lost loved ones. Her second album, Conducturis, accompanies an immersive film installation delving into speculative fiction, conceptualized by Mira Sanders and Cédric Noël. Conducturis will be released on Cortizona at the end of January 2025.
Conducturis is an immersive film installation project that delves into the realms of speculative fiction, employing the cinematic language of the road movie to envision the ramifications of constructing an artificial brain within the Swiss landscape.
Following their encounters with key figures in the Human Brain Project during an art research expedition in Geneva from 2019 to 2020, conceptualized by Cédric Noël & Mira Sanders, they stumbled upon a remarkable discovery: a hidden fiber-optic cable linking Geneva to Lugano.
Anchored at both ends by the Human Brain Project in Geneva and the CSCS (Centre Suisse de Calcul Scientifique) in Lugano, this conduit facilitated the transmission of intricate brain simulations from the imposing computational hub in Lugano to Geneva via a 'superconductor' cable.
While the nuances of this fiber network eluded the naked eye, Sanders & Noël meticulously pored over maps, gathered endless data, and traversed the terrain. In crafting "Conducturis", they chose to portray an immersive journey along this IT infrastructure connecting Geneva and Lugano, exploring the curious allure of dreaming about artificial landscapes.
The accompanying originalscore by Dienne invites audiences to delve into the intersection of human creativity and machine intelligence. Guided by the principle of being "abundant in beauty and rich in disturbances", Dienne embarks on a sonic exploration of the Swiss landscape, translating its ethereal beauty and technological wonders into evocative musical compositions.
"How can a human sound like a machine?"
This intriguing question lies at the heart of Dienne's artistic endeavor. For her, the soundtrack of "Conducturis'' transcends mere musical notes; it embodies a profound philosophical exploration into the essence of human creativity amidst the rise of artificial intelligence.
Similarly, "How can a human being compose like a machine?" serves as a pivotal inquiry guiding Dienne's creative journey. As she navigates the delicate boundary between human expression and machine cognition, she skillfully intertwines the pulsating rhythms of data transmission with the haunting melodies inspired by artificial landscapes.
Drawing inspiration from the cinematic aesthetics of the road movie genre, as envisioned by Sanders & Noël in their speculation on the construction of an artificial brain, Dienne weaves a sonic tapestry that transports listeners on a contemplative journey through mountains, lakes, and cities.
Each track for "Conducturis" becomes a testament to the fusion of brain and landscape, inviting audiences to ponder the limitless potential of human imagination.
As audiences immerse themselves in the evocative world of "Conducturis", Dienne's soundtrack serves as a guiding force and perfect companion, leading them through a transcendental experience where reality and imagination merge, and the symphony of human and machine harmonizes seamlessly.
"Conducturis" emerges as a sensory exploration of the human spirit and the boundless horizons of artificial intelligence. With Dienne's soundtrack as its heartbeat, this project invites audiences to embark on a voyage of discovery, where the echoes of human creativity reverberate across the digital frontier.
LP + 7". Portland indie rock band charts novel sonic territory, exploring resilience of the human spirit in the aftermath of tragedy and trauma, over 5 years in the making. Conceived in the wake of a worldwide quarantine, the entire West Coast being on fire, and the horrific murder of one of the band's own - then recorded, finished, and now released in defiance of it all. Harnessing all that of chaotic change and catastrophe, the band took it all as an opportunity to boldly blaze some new trails for themselves, carving out new sonic territory by exploring everything from spacey Fusion-Funk bass Moogs and Hip-Hop drum machines, to New Wave-ish synths and flourishes of Samba, Blues, Soul, and Sunshine Pop - all while still delivering the goods that Aan fans have come to know them for: to-die-for melodies, inebriating primal belt-along therapy, and face-melting guitar solos. For Fans of Unknown Mortal Orchestra, STRFKR, Pixies, Dungen, Grizzly Bear, TV On The Radio, Stereolab and Modest Mouse.
Drawing inspiration from film, literature, art, and music, “Zdenka 2080” was heavily influenced in particular by a series of apocalyptic sci-fi novels by Octavia Butler and Gene Wolf. “They inspired me to explore the realms of fantasy as a means of illuminating concepts and truths about our own society and humanity,” she says. “I also was very inspired by the movies Tekkonkinkreet and Embrace of the Serpent - a beautiful exploration of capitalism, colonialism and greed.” Olsen’s music is highly conceptual and “Zdenka 2080” describes a future dystopian Earth in the year 2080 that has been mis-managed by unethical governments and corporations.
Though 潘PAN is an entirely new artist - new outlook, new message, new material and name - you may have met the woman herself before. Back in the mid-‘10s, the Taipei-born rapper went by the moniker Aristophanes. After performing a career-changing feature on ‘SCREAM’, taken from Grimes’ celebrated NME Album of 2015 ‘Art Angels’, Aristophanes went on to build a cult fanbase, releasing her debut mixtape ‘Humans Become Machines’ two years later and then her distributor went bust during covid. Signed to Transgressive she re-released her mixtape followed by Reborn and Ghosts EPs earlier this year.
Across a constantly morphing sound palette that moves from metallic, apocalyptic beats to delicate nods to the traditional music of her Asian heritage, via heavy, industrial moments, spacious soundscapes and much more, the thread is Pan’s utterly mesmeric vocal. Performing in a mix of Mandarin and English, she explains that having the two languages to play with is “like featuring another artist who has a different way of describing things”.
Across the releases, confident sexual expression mixes with tenderness, empathy and a particularly feminine sort of strength to create a world that Pan hopes will transcend language and connect her audience via something more innate. “The music is a place to feel safe,” she says. “The message that I want to carry through these two EPs and the album is to demonstrate the strength of accepting your own situations. When you can’t make things right but you’ve done your best, sometimes it’s really hard to admit that to yourself. It takes strength to do that. I use lots of sexual metaphors, but I feel like it’s more about the female need to be seen and heard. I want to build something more delicate and layered and connected to our life experience - to the trauma and the pleasure and the growth.”
In the time since she last stepped into the spotlight, the musician has experienced her fair share of all these things. Now, it’s as an entirely evolved artist that she returns with a new collection of music that revels in it all: the trauma, the pleasure, the growth and the long-awaited rebirth of 潘PAN
Get on track with Fidelio and Luca Piermattei.
Fidelio’s triple-vision A-side gives a taste of the unorthodox, blending 90s acid rawness with the timeless elegance. This is where baroque drama meets warehouse ecstasy.
Fidelio unleashes an avant-garde fusion of classical organ melodies and razor-sharp acid basslines, echoing through your spleens. Each track oozes groove, driven by punchy kicks and hi-hats that sizzle like sparks on steel.
Fidelio’s mix pulses with a sense of urgency, like a techno odyssey through a neon-drenched dystopia.
Luca Piermattei will catch you on the flippity-flip. ‘Gas’ feels like a transmission from a synthetic consciousness trying to breach the uncanny valley. The track opens with a pulsating bassline that wobbles like liquid mercury, creating a sense of disorientation. A warped robotic voice enters, glitching and stuttering, its eerie attempt at human inflection both captivating and unsettling.
The groove is undeniable—polyrhythms weave through intricate layers of percussive clicks, offbeat hats, and swelling synth stabs. Just as you think you’ve found the rhythm, the track bends your mind with unpredictable shifts, like machinery spiraling into controlled chaos.
Enter Luca’s wormhole with ‘Third Rec. With Tascam 122’: Meet the captivating 4×4 electro groover that pulls listeners into an otherworldly soundscape. Anchored by pulse-driven basslines, the track delivers a surprising and dynamic arrangement that keeps you guessing.
The sections are seamlessly divided with intricate, pinball-like percussion, creating a playful yet precise rhythm. Perfect for late-night explorations, this track balances hypnotic grooves with unexpected twists, making it a standout on the dancefloor.
Am 4. November erscheint eine limitierte Auflage von „Ghost In The Machine“ von The Police.
Dieses Album beinhaltet die alternative „Originale“- Tracklisting und -Reihenfolge die ursprünglich für die
Veröffentlichung ausgewählt, aber in letzter Minute geändert wurde. Zusätzlich enthält das Album drei
weitere Tracks, die nicht auf dem Album von 1981 enthalten sind.
Das Album ist als Picture Disc erhältlich.
Limited edition pressing - 50 copies come with one page insert. Download code included.
The album Sonic Mystics for Poems (of Life and Death of a Phoenix) by Andrea Burelli is a work that masterfully blends traditional musical languages with the formal and conceptual sensibilities of contemporary music. It offers a profound reflection on the life-death-life cycle, centered on poetic texts that oscillate between human-sensitive experience and the mythical journey of a phoenix, a metaphor of this circular and infinite reality.
The work, which includes a collaboration with musicians from the renowned Solistenensemble Kaleidoskop, stands out for its clear influence from classical Western music and modal traditions, as well as experimental electronics. Composed for voices, strings, synthesizers, and drum machines, this music features a minimalist tapestry of polyphonies, enhanced by sophisticated electronic elements and a diverse array of rhythmic articulations.
Field Notes describes Andrea Burelli as a versatile artist capable of embodying a multitude of roles, from poet to composer, musician, and singer, emphasizing how her work reflects this versatility by ¨combining elements of art song, contemporary music, pop, and electronic sounds.¨ According to Groove Magazine, this LP evokes neoclassical chamber music and an imagined Italian folklore, aligning with contemporary explorations of modern vocal abstractions, similar to the work of artists like Marina Herlop, stating that: “This is how the new and the good emerge.”
Furthermore, the music has received positive feedback from internationally acclaimed artists such as Rashad Becker, who, in addition to being the mastering engineer of the project, describes it as "pure and honest"; James Young of Darkstar calls it "bold and innovative"; while Eartheater (PAN), Rabih Beaini, and Gigi Masin have praised it as "beautiful."
Standard Edition[28,36 €]
***Limited edition with clear vinyl, white inners, printed centre labels and holographic sticker on B-, D- and F-side*** Nous'klaer Audio proudly presents Paerels III (aka Pearls 3), the third and final edition of its beloved 3x12'' compilation series. This release brings together a refreshing splash of sounds, unbound by genre, blending deep-listening pieces with driving techno, rave-tinged house, and a few playful surprises. Contributions come from both familiar faces and new voices on the label, with some tracks pulled from the archives and others fresh out of the studio - curated by label-head Oberman. Featuring artists like Megan Leber, Mattheis with a remix from Pye Corner Audio, Marie K, Mattias El Mansouri, Cooper Saver, Kems Kriol, Martinou, Human Space Machine, Koraal, Eversines, Erik Luebs, Mathilde Nobel with an Oceanic remix, Mary Lake, and lastly Gotu Jim. A1. Megan Leber - Tides A2. Mattheis - Swell (Pye Corner Audio Remix) A3. Marie K - Silver Lining B1. Mattias El Mansouri - Transcendence B2. Cooper Saver - Cloudburst C1. Kems Kriol - Blimund C2. Martinou - Glider D1. Human Space Machine - Second D2. Koraal - This One E1. Eversines - Rhapsodia E2. Erik Luebs - Toward Entropy F1. Mathilde Nobel - May + Be (Oceanic Remix) F2. Mary Lake - Evergloom F3. Gotu Jim - De Last
Who is Isabelle Lewis, anyway?
What kind of music does she make? Is she an opera singer? Does she write pop songs? Does she compose ethereal ambient soundscapes? Does she play chamber music on the violin? Is she producing dark, electronic beats?
Well… yes. But Isabelle Lewis is not so much a person as a project. Isabelle’s debut album, Greetings, credits a trio of composer–performers at its heart: producer Valgeir Sigurðsson, vocalist Benjamin Abel Meirhaeghe, and violinist Elisabeth Klinck. The sound of the elusive Isabelle Lewis is heard most clearly in the push and pull between them, the three-way tension that gives the album its musical and emotional drive.
Each of the three brings more to the collaboration than those epithets might imply. Elisabeth’s solo performance practice incorporates composition, improvisation, live electronics, and a close command of bowing and fingering techniques that make her fiddle sing, whisper or whistle as required. Benjamin is a self-taught countertenor - keening, crooning, and swelling to a voluptuous sensuality—but also an interdisciplinary stage director and performer. Well known for his work as a producer and studio collaborator, and as a composer of scores for film and stage, Valgeir’s solo discography interweaves meticulously crafted electronics, drones, noise, and other digital elements with acoustic instruments and vocals recorded with naked, unflinching clarity.
But the extravagant theatricality Benjamin brings to the aptly titled “Drama”—also featuring a heroic violin solo from Elisabeth—grapples against the thudding bass of the implacable digital backdrop. On “Mother, Shelter Me” Valgeir’s austere and detailed production throws the hushed violin and vocals into stark relief. The result is an exquisitely uncanny juxtaposition of past and present, human and mechanical, like a Rococo treasure viewed under cold fluorescent lights, or an 18th-century automaton slowly opening its clockwork eyes.
Even the lyrics seem somehow out of time. On “O Solitude,” Benjamin goes so far as to quote an entire song by the first great English opera composer, Henry Purcell, verbatim. No stranger to Purcell’s music, which has made its way into Benjamin’s theatrical productions as well, here Isabelle Lewis removes Purcell’s melodies and harmonies and sets the text, Katherine Phillips’s 17th century translation of a poem by Antoine Girard de Saint-Amant, to new music whose heightened, archaic character nevertheless seems haunted by Baroque ghosts.
Throughout the album, the outsized emotions and timeless archetypes of Benjamin’s lyrics feel like relics from some half-forgotten past—from the neatly rhymed couplets of “Fisherman,” a seemingly straightforward (but still somewhat askew) character study, to the abstraction of “Moonshell,” whose words seem like the fragments of some ancient, lost lament. It is just another of many ways in which Isabelle Lewis carefully distorts the listener’s notions of time. On a more micro level, time can stop for a moment of weightless, drifting ambience, and then plunge forward as the cloud of harmonies suddenly lock into tempo with the drop of the bass or the change of a chord. Or else that weightless moment is allowed to be, as in the aptly named prologue and epilogue to these Greetings (“Voicemail”/“…and farewell”), or in the interstitial tracks that bind the album together, connecting its dramatic peaks with expanses of meditative stasis.
The album as a whole is elegantly shaped, swelling from an intimate, interpersonal statement into something deeper and more spacious. The first half of the album leans slightly towards self-contained pop songcraft and ticking beats, while side B jumps off from “O Solitude” into the almost symphonic grandeur of songs like “Moonshell” or the instrumental “Not the water, air, or the dirt.”
But as it progresses, the contrasts only grow more sublime: antique and postmodern, human and machinelike. The ominous weight of the droning sub-bass and trombone (guest player Helgi Hrafn Jónsson) only makes the interplay between vocals and violins (guest player Daniel Pioro joining Elisabeth) seem more delicate and vulnerable. The ethereal string tremolos of “Moonshell” seem to pull against the heavy, shuddering electronics and layers of crooning vocals.
And that, in short, is where you will find Isabelle Lewis. Like an ancient stone archway, or a delicate house of cards, the architecture of Greetings is held together by the tension between opposing forces. Not just in Elisabeth’s playing, Benjamin’s singing, or Valgeir’s arrangements and production but in the conflict and contrast that generates the synergy between them.
Oh—Isabelle says hi, by the way. She’s looking forward to meeting you.
Pain Management presents a debut collaborative release from Bristol’s Larry McCarthy & mysterious newcomer Eris FM. The limited edition single fuses hellish Bristolian dub with tender vocal excursions on two dark cuts in equal parts tough and tender. A heartfelt comedown offering for the hyperactive via two cathartic weapons primed for maximum emotional release.
The A side’s foolish titular opener is a hellish mess of dub delays and eerie narrative exposition. Reminiscent of blown-out early No Corner offerings; a tangled mess of sirens and harsh noise ensnare FM’s disembodied commands. Turn your phone off / Tell no one where you are / Go out / Press your lips to the cracks in the soil. Overtly human exposition shrouded in a plosive shell of sawtoothed frequencies and machine drum paranoia. The effect is an unsettling hybrid of softness and uncertainty. A teeth-grinding mess of grit and potent anxiety primed for anti-dancefloor devastation; one to comfort the disturbed or disturb the comfortable depending on where you’re at.
On the flip ‘Red’ applies this same methodology to a beatless format, noisy chaos swapped out for ascendent grandeur. Here FM’s voice has more room to breathe, floating above an ever expanding synthscape. Reflective prosaic cohesion replaces the A side’s splintered present-tense directives.The rawness remains but on Red it takes the form of a commanding emotive clarity rather than claustrophobic uncertainty. A subtle heartbeat rhythm pulses beneath the nebulous pads, swaying like a slow dance in the early hours.
Hyper-limited run of 100 7” records
Ben Klock & Fadi Mohem announce debut collaborative album featuring Coby Sey and Flowdan on new label LAYER
Ben Klock and Fadi Mohem present their first collaborative album on their new label LAYER. The ten-track full length project titled Layer One follows the hypnotic EP Klockworks 34 that set the stage in 2022. In a bold departure from the techno roots that have defined and nurtured their careers, Klock and Mohem are now pushing genre boundaries, exploring IDM, ambient and experimental electronic music while still retaining the brilliance that characterised their earlier work.
The conceptual direction of Layer One delves into a post-human world, where humans are close to extinction on Earth, leaving only imprints, traces, and relics behind—digital fossils and machine-generated images capturing fleeting moments of non-human photography, as Artificial Intelligence remains in a world that quietly thrives without us. We do not perceive this as a bleak apocalyptic dystopia, but more a sober and serene reflection of a world that continues to exist and flourish, indifferent to the absence of humanity. Despite this unremitting setting, through this journey we find survivors who signal a remembrance of the human sensibilities.
Elevating this project are two very human and dynamic collaborations featuring the charismatic Coby Sey and the legendary grime MC Flowdan. Sey, a prominent figure in the British music scene known for his work with artists like Tirzah and Mica Levi, injects his music with a mesmerizing emotional depth. Opening the album with the powerful track ‘Ultimately,’ Sey offers spoken-word musings on creativity and life over experimental landscapes meticulously crafted by Klock and Mohem. Nostalgia permeates this opening track, and track 7 ‘Clean Slate’ reinforces this sentiment with Sey’s stream-of-consciousness wordplay.
Flowdan, the gritty MC whose verses have become anthems of the UK grime movement, made headlines in 2023 with two songs that reached the top 20 of the UK singles chart. In 2024, he was awarded his first Grammy for the Skrillex and Fred Again collaboration Rumble, becoming the first grime artist to win in any category. On track ‘Our Sector,’ Flowdan unleashes his raw energy and dynamic flow, adding a thrilling vocal dimension to the album’s narrative. The fluid delivery of his lyrics and rhythmic timing are enhanced by the staccato beats and abstract synths. These collaborations are not mere features; they are pivotal moments that crystallize the album’s vision—an experimental re-imagining of electronic music’s possibilities.
Immediately offering an impressive entry to Klock and Mohem’s changing sonic universe ‘Escape Velocity’ shows the collaboration at its strongest. Deftly juggling between ambient chords and more densely intricate rhythmic moments. These tightly layered textures and intense clashing moments are continued through most of the album. On other tracks the duo are just as innovative ‘Rest Assured’ rips open the sound palette Klock and Mohem are known for, synths dart around flickering through into unexpected areas. Penultimate track ‘The Machine’ feels like the internal innards of a PC or synthesizer brought to life. Electricity flows through the track like an auditory exploration of the digital world's hidden mechanical and electrical processes. In contrast, final track ‘Melatonin’ does exactly what the name suggests; its soothing melodic ambience cradles the listener as the album draws to a close.
Alongside the album’s release, the duo will release two singles. This album represents the work of two artists at the peak of their creative powers, inviting listeners to step outside the familiar and explore a different musical perspective.
