quête:human

Rigetto is a natural reflex of expulsion, and it is from this concept that the label is inspired.

Founded by DJ and producer CUT, aka Luca D'Elia Fiorenzano, Rigetto is a personal and direct space where sound becomes a silent way of exposing oneself. More than a defined genre, it is an attitude: a techno free from rigid structures, influenced by human movement, interaction, and the surrounding sonic matter, where elements of techno, ambient, and natural soundscapes meet and transform.

The first release, Rigetto 01, represents the starting point of this path: a first statement of intent that introduces the label's sonic identity, made of essential rhythms, subtle tensions, and immersive atmospheres where sound becomes a physical and perceptual experience.

Laurel Halo returns with an album of original soundtrack music, composed for the film Midnight Zone by visual artist Julian Charrière. Following the path of a drifting Fresnel lighthouse lens as it descends through the Clarion-Clipperton Fracture Zone — a remote abyssal plain in the Pacific Ocean, rich in rare metals and increasingly targeted for deep-sea mining — the film traces a descent into one of Earth’s last untouched ecosystems.


Charrière’s film reveals the deep not as void, but as a luminous biome teeming with fragile life: bioluminescent creatures, swirling schools of fish, and elusive predators. The suspended lens becomes an abyssal campfire, attracting species caught in the tides of uncertainty, their futures hanging in the balance.


Echoing this tension, Halo’s compositions evoke a sensory freefall, where gravity falters and light and sound flicker in uncertain rhythms. Midnight Zone is a sonic drift through the space between what we seek to extract, fail to understand, and must protect.


Halo’s score evokes the life that exists beyond our physical airbound capacity. The material features long, subtle passages of electro-acoustic ambient, drone and sound design, slowly flowing and unfolding with rich detail. The music, composed largely on a Montage 8 synthesizer and Yamaha TransAcoustic piano at the Yamaha studios in New York City, possesses an uncanny quality: that of synthetic waveforms being amplified and sung through the stringboard of the physical body of the TransAcoustic piano. Combined with stacks of violin and viol da gamba, the music on Midnight Zone possesses trace elements of a human hand in an otherwise sunken landscape. Patient, submerged, and alive. The album will be the third on Halo’s imprint, Awe.


The film is central to Charrière’s current solo exhibition Midnight Zone. The exhibition engages with underwater ecologies, exploring the complexity of water as an elemental medium affected by anthropogenic degradation. Reflecting upon its flow and materiality, profundity and politics, its mundane and sacral dimensions, the solo show acts as a kaleidoscope, inviting us to dive deep.

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."

Humanity from Japanese saxophonist and composer Kazuki Yamanaka contains both turbulence and tranquillity, freedom and discipline, an embracing of uncertainty with a deeply spiritual sense of resolution. The recordings were made in a single day in New York City with a team of extraordinary musicians. He"d already established a firm creative partnership with bass legend Cameron Brown and award-winning pianist Russ Lossing over the past year during their time as recording artists in NYC, and he renewed his fruitful association with outstanding drummer Billy Mintz (Lee Konitz, Charles Lloyd, Alan Broadbent) to complete the quartet. These three have been vital to Kazuki"s compositions that tell the story of his enforced absence from the scene during the pandemic and how he sought to centre himself in the midst of the disruption through contemplation and the development of an inward strength.

Vom Zauber menschlicher Begegnung
Viele kennen seine Musik aus dem Netflix-Blockbuster „Stranger Things“. Doch auch außerhalb von Streaming, Fernsehen und Werbung hat der Neoklassik-Star Peter Sandberg seine musikalischen Spuren hinterlassen und eine große Fangemeinde gefunden: Mit mehr als 500 Millionen Streams gehört der Pianist, Komponist und Elektrotüftler aus Uppsala zu den erfolgreichsten Musikern seines Genres. In seiner Heimatstadt entstand auch seines neues, als Debüt bei Warner erschienenes Konzeptalbum The Temporary Coexistence of Humans, eine Auseinandersetzung mit den verschiedenen Wirkungsweisen menschlicher Begegnung, ihrer Flüchtigkeit und Zufälligkeit, aber auch mit den mal beglückenden, mal verunsichernden emotionalen Folgen, die sie in uns auslösen kann.

The brand- new album from Hiss Golden Messenger and the first release with Chrysalis Records. I'm People is a vivid, deeply human album born from a period of rupture, renewal, and vast American wandering. Written across Bolinas, the North Carolina Piedmont, and a Santa Fe motel room, the record traces the artist's search for clarity through landscapes both external and internal. These songs move through heartbreak, aging, fatherhood, desire, disillusionment, and the hard- won hope that remains after the spirit has been scraped bare.

Produced with Josh Kaufman at Dreamland, a decommissioned church outside Woodstock, the album carries the warmth of musicians playing live in a circle, stained- glass light filtering across guitars, drums, and upright bass. Contributions from Bruce Hornsby, Sam Beam, Marcus King, Sara Watkins, Amy Helm, Eric D. Johnson, and members of Dawes enrich a sound world that feels immediate, vulnerable, and fully alive. "I'm People is an intensely human record, and so one that needed to feel immediate, vulnerable, and fully dancing; something you could touch, sing along to, know about, recognize, relate with. I know what the record is to me and I bet it's not so dissimilar from what it's about to you, at least in the broad strokes: The heartbreak and exhilaration, the absolute black comedy of being a person on this razor's edge that is America circa 2025. What other choice do we have than to be hopeful?" - MC Taylor on I'm People. Hiss Golden Messenger is a Grammy nominated artist based in North Carolina, with multiple Album Of The Year and Best Americana Album awards, reaching #2 in the Americana Charts and performances and tours across the world, including the UK and Europe + performances on US TV; Late Night With Seth Myers.

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.”

Oceanine, Jolanda Moletta’s third album and her first for Beacon Sound, is a powerful and ethereal statement of artistic community. Expanding on her previous work, each track represents a collaboration with a different female vocalist, with the foundational elements being generated entirely by her own voice. By turns haunting, enchanting, and inspiring, you won’t want to come up for air once you’ve been pulled under. Representing a
musical practice that is distinctly feminist, this is an album with a longer view in mind, to an age when the altars were to goddesses and women were centered as powerful beings representing the earth’s cycles of regeneration and renewal. Oceanine then, in all its beauty, can be viewed as an album of survival. It is deeply transportive, accessing something that lies within all of us. As the late, great Lithuanian folklorist and archaeologist Marija Gimbutas noted, “We must refocus our collective memory. The necessity for this has never been greater as we discover that the path of 'progress' is extinguishing the very conditions for life on earth.”

Jolanda Moletta is a multimedia artist and one-woman electronic choir. She creates wordless compositions through extended vocal techniques, integrating wearable-controlled live processing, alongside symbolic visuals. Moletta considers her performances to be a collective ritual and creates her Sonic & Visual Spells following the cycles of nature and the moon. Jolanda's 2022 critically acclaimed album Nine Spells was released on the Ambientologist label, followed by Night Caves on Whitelabrecs in 2025. Moletta’s artistic practice is a radical and spiritual journey through sound art, ritual, and the symbolic archaeology of the feminine.

Oceanine is inspired by sirens, water nymphs, and the timeless call of the sea. At its core lies Jolanda’s deep, lifelong connection to the Mediterranean Sea and to the ancient and modern myths and folklore that have emerged from its waters. Growing up by the Mar Ligure, Jolanda was surrounded by stories carried by salt, wind, and waves: legends of sirens, echoes of ancient voices, and the sea as both origin and oracle. This intimate relationship with the Mediterranean is not merely a backdrop, but a living source that shapes Oceanine’s emotional, symbolic, and sonic world.

Each track features a different female vocalist, creating a rich tapestry of voices, styles, and perspectives. This artistic choice not only broadens the album’s sonic palette, but also deepens its narrative core: celebrating the power, beauty, and mystique of feminine energy through myth, history, and sound.

The entire album is built exclusively from the human voice, processed and layered, yet always remaining voice, and nothing else. For each piece, Jolanda invited every vocalist involved to contribute a raw stem: a short, unedited melodic fragment of just a few seconds, inspired by the album’s themes. These intimate vocal seeds became the foundation of each track: the guest artists’ voices appear as brief, melodic stems, while the entire surrounding “orchestral” fabric is created solely from Jolanda’s own layered and processed voice. In this way, Jolanda’s voice becomes the Ocean itself, embracing, absorbing, and carrying the sirens’ calls within a vast, immersive soundscape. Every song is a unique expression of the feminine experience, revealing its depth, complexity, and emotional range, echoing the call of the sea and the many faces of the siren archetype.

The figure of the siren has transformed across centuries. In myths of Ancient Greece and Rome, sirens were hybrid beings, part woman, part bird, whose irresistible songs lured sailors to their doom. During the Middle Ages, the image shifted toward the half-woman, half-fish figure, often associated with temptation and danger. Historically, the voice of women has often been feared. Sirens were considered harbingers of misfortune not simply because they seduced or destroyed, but because they were powerful liminal beings.

In Ancient Greek, sirens functioned as psychopomps: figures who existed between worlds and guided souls, especially between life and death. Their songs were believed to carry forbidden knowledge, including prophetic insight and the ability to reveal truths about fate and the future. The danger of the sirens lay in what they revealed: knowledge that humans were not meant, or ready, to hear.

Oceanine confronts this legacy head-on. The voices heard throughout the album are not merely beautiful: they are dark and luminous, wild and enchanting, magical, soothing, dreamy, and at times fractured or distorted. They whisper, lament, beckon, and enchant. Like sirens, they skim the surface of the water and sink into its depths, hovering on the edge between tenderness and danger, vulnerability and power. They rise toward the sky, dissolve into mist, and return as echoes charged with raw, elemental emotion: voices that seduce, warn, mourn, and remember. They refuse to be reduced to decoration.

Alongside the album’s release in May, Oceanine will also unfold as a visual and performative work through a short art film. The film includes a live session recorded inside a sea cave facing the Mar Ligure, the very coastline where Jolanda spent her childhood, dreaming of sirens and listening to the sea as if it were speaking directly to her. This site-specific performance reconnects the music to its place of origin, allowing the voice to resonate within stone, water, and air, and transforming the cave into both a sanctuary and a threshold between myth and reality.

What if the sirens’ songs were considered dangerous because they carried another truth, an ancient truth long forgotten?

Oceanine embraces the idea that we are still deeply woven into myth. Though we may see ourselves as rational and modern beings, our world is saturated with ancient symbols and archetypes, often distorted, simplified, or stripped of their original meaning. And if those symbols are allowed to shift, if the mirror once held by the siren becomes an invitation to look beyond appearances and into what has been obscured, then we may finally uncover a deeper truth and reclaim the voice that was always ours.

Oceanine is not just an album. It is a reclamation, a spell, and a call from the depths.

More than half a century into its existence, heavy metal still prowls as a living force in the dark, and Vancouver's SPELL summon that spirit with defiant conviction on their fifth album, 'Wretched Heart'. Rejecting the safety of nostalgia, the band; Cam Mesmer, Al Lester, Gabriel Tenebrae and Jeff Black, step beyond retro homage into shadowy new terrain, where harmony guitars blaze like torches against the night and gothic atmospheres coil around songs pulsing with desperation, longing, and wild exaltation. Forged through the fire of the stage and shaped by trusted collaborators, this is SPELL at their most potent: dramatic, vulnerable, and unafraid of excess. From existential laments to bittersweet anthems that shimmer with both steel and sorrow, 'Wretched Heart' beats with a fiercely human pulse. In SPELL's hands, heavy metal is no museum relic but a darkly romantic covenant-restless, cathartic, and forever reaching beyond the veil.

More than half a century into its existence, heavy metal still prowls as a living force in the dark, and Vancouver's SPELL summon that spirit with defiant conviction on their fifth album, 'Wretched Heart'. Rejecting the safety of nostalgia, the band; Cam Mesmer, Al Lester, Gabriel Tenebrae and Jeff Black, step beyond retro homage into shadowy new terrain, where harmony guitars blaze like torches against the night and gothic atmospheres coil around songs pulsing with desperation, longing, and wild exaltation. Forged through the fire of the stage and shaped by trusted collaborators, this is SPELL at their most potent: dramatic, vulnerable, and unafraid of excess. From existential laments to bittersweet anthems that shimmer with both steel and sorrow, 'Wretched Heart' beats with a fiercely human pulse. In SPELL's hands, heavy metal is no museum relic but a darkly romantic covenant-restless, cathartic, and forever reaching beyond the veil.

More than half a century into its existence, heavy metal still prowls as a living force in the dark, and Vancouver's SPELL summon that spirit with defiant conviction on their fifth album, 'Wretched Heart'. Rejecting the safety of nostalgia, the band; Cam Mesmer, Al Lester, Gabriel Tenebrae and Jeff Black, step beyond retro homage into shadowy new terrain, where harmony guitars blaze like torches against the night and gothic atmospheres coil around songs pulsing with desperation, longing, and wild exaltation. Forged through the fire of the stage and shaped by trusted collaborators, this is SPELL at their most potent: dramatic, vulnerable, and unafraid of excess. From existential laments to bittersweet anthems that shimmer with both steel and sorrow, 'Wretched Heart' beats with a fiercely human pulse. In SPELL's hands, heavy metal is no museum relic but a darkly romantic covenant-restless, cathartic, and forever reaching beyond the veil.

After their last album six years ago, "Primal Forms," the new album by Phantom Horse, finally arrives. The German duo of Ulf Schütte and Niklas Dommaschk have long established a reputation for expertly crafted, hypnotically slow-burning electronic music, and we do not hesitate to say that "Primal Forms" stands among the epitomes of their discography.

The sequencing of "Primal Forms" cannot be underestimated. It is an album in the classic sense. It demands to be listened to in its entirety, which also points to a closer affinity with Krautrock. Likewise, a touch of dub is perceptible, wafting around the songs, which, as usual, bear clandestine titles. It is not unreasonable to see in these compact compositions a clear statement against multitasking.

Phantom Horse are not trumpeters of dystopia. They present themselves resolutely, almost stoically, turned away from the world. This turning away is clearly a statement that can be contemplated in the Mariana Trench as well as in comet belts. In any case, it is best experienced in a space without any human beings. This does not mean that grumpy hermits are tinkering with synths behind closed shutters, armed with wooden walking sticks. This is still open minded music with a connection to current developments. The approach itself is what is audible, and with it, Phantom Horse proves once again that their main connection to time is timelessness.

In an age of all-encompassing distraction on every sensory, thematic, and semantic level, Phantom Horse explores the possibilities of reduction, searching for simplified melodic arcs without resorting to the vocabulary of classical minimalism. The overall impression is more electronic; the slowly shifting, polyrhythmic compositions repeatedly lead to a peculiar danceability. However, these are perhaps the dances of mechanical birds, undeterred by anything.

Written and produced in Hamburg, Nijmegen and Ojén by Niklas Dommaschk & Ulf Schütte
Mastering by Rafael Anton Irisarri at Black Knoll
Artwork by Daniel Castrejón

3rd full length album fron the UK's heaviest band. This is an accolade not thrown around lightly. BOUND IN FEAR have been crafting their sound over the years, honing it into an undisputed heavyweight bomber. 'A MIND TOO SICK TO HEAL is a hellish journey into the darkest side of the human mind, Smashing out of the gates with 'SENTENCED' & 'CHASM', the first stand alone singles to be lifted from the forthcoming album, BIF roar a statement of intent that ups the heat ever so slightly from their usual downtempo delivery, before returning to the familiar crushing slabs of concrete the band are revered for. 'THREE KNEE DEEP' & 'DARKNESS REDEFINED' follow as the spotlight cuts for what is unquestionable one of the heaviest albums to ever emerge out of the United Kingdom.

Masterful composer- improviser DoYeon Kim is an unparalleled practitioner of the Korean gayageum (a silk-string zither), and is also in possession of a purposeful vocal intensity. This is her debut album as a bandleader, featuring fellow master musicians Tyshawn Sorey (drums), Mat Maneri (viola), Henry Fraser (bass). Armed with an unlikely traditional instrument, flanked by three extraordinary improvisers, radiating a brash, acoustic strategy that simultaneously invokes folk universalism and a No Wave battle- stance, the Brooklyn- based virtuoso will drop a volcanic sonic statement with grand humanist goals on May 1. Kim mingles Korean lullabies, fervent interactions between drums and strings, and pure instrumental expressions of musical self. At times, she sounds like she can halt armies. Wellspring is a call for society to come together.

How the Seoul, South Korea- born 34- year- old came to be the centuries- old zither's leading (only?) practitioner of contemporary improvised music, reflects an expansive embrace of her own culture, her place in modern society, and her ascending recognition of music's liberatory power. DoYeon Kim 's teachers at Seoul National University recognized that her roving musical mind - less interested in ancient repertoire than in speaking to the modern world - needed challenges. America beckoned, with the New England Conservatory offering a non- ethnomusicological pathway via its Contemporary Improvisation department. It set off a process of analysing, absorbing, digesting, and, most of all, listening. Under the guidance of NEC instructor and legendary guitarist Joe Morris, in came the methodologies of Ornette, Braxton and Derek Bailey, to name a few.

Nashville-born, Chapel Hill-based Florence Dore returns w/ *Hold the Spark*, her most confident & compelling album yet. Blending sharp storytelling in the tradition of James McMurtry w/ a melodic sensibility often compared to Lucinda Williams, Dore delivers songs that are tender, funny, and deeply human. Produced by Don Dixon (R.E.M.) and backed by a stellar Americana cast, the album moves effortlessly from intimate reflections to full-throttle rock, all anchored by Dore’s rich, emotional voice. On Limited Edition Neon Jazzberry Colored Vinyl

Whenever Emily Nenni is onstage, she welcomes everybody to the dancefloor. The California-born, Nashville-based singer-songwriter wants the honkytonk to be a place of escape, where fans can shed their troubles for a few hours and feel safe and free. “I’m always watching the dancefloor and making sure everybody’s being respectful.” Or, as she sings on the supremely funky title track to her new album Movin’ Shoes, “Here’s where you dress for you and dance the way that you want to.”

Movin’ Shoes is an album about how we treat each other and how we treat ourselves. Confident in its touchstones and compassionate in its insights, Movin’ Shoes eloquently and wryly blends southern soul from Memphis and Muscle Shoals with southern rock from Macon and outlaw country from Austin. Making Movin’ Shoes was a process of discovery for Nenni. Musically she found all new ways to combine the disparate artists she loves so much, and lyrically she found all new ways to relate to herself and to others. “We should at all times acknowledge and accept the fact that we’re imperfect people,” she explains. “We all make mistakes and we should all rethink the way we go about things. I am flawed. Everyone around me is flawed. But that’s not a bad thing. It just means we’re all human. This album is about making mistakes and learning from them. I’m always trying to put that into my songs.”

Whenever Emily Nenni is onstage, she welcomes everybody to the dancefloor. The California-born, Nashville-based singer-songwriter wants the honkytonk to be a place of escape, where fans can shed their troubles for a few hours and feel safe and free. “I’m always watching the dancefloor and making sure everybody’s being respectful.” Or, as she sings on the supremely funky title track to her new album Movin’ Shoes, “Here’s where you dress for you and dance the way that you want to.”

Movin’ Shoes is an album about how we treat each other and how we treat ourselves. Confident in its touchstones and compassionate in its insights, Movin’ Shoes eloquently and wryly blends southern soul from Memphis and Muscle Shoals with southern rock from Macon and outlaw country from Austin. Making Movin’ Shoes was a process of discovery for Nenni. Musically she found all new ways to combine the disparate artists she loves so much, and lyrically she found all new ways to relate to herself and to others. “We should at all times acknowledge and accept the fact that we’re imperfect people,” she explains. “We all make mistakes and we should all rethink the way we go about things. I am flawed. Everyone around me is flawed. But that’s not a bad thing. It just means we’re all human. This album is about making mistakes and learning from them. I’m always trying to put that into my songs.”