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The most beautiful thing we’ve ever released?

It is virtually impossible to describe with mere words how emotionally powerful this work of art is. Just listen. Listen, listen, listen...

A blissed-out 80-minute epic, Hatchback's Phaser For The Ocean, Chorus For The Moon is his magnum opus, a sprawling masterwork that encompasses ambient, new age and environmental music to wondrous effect. Moving, hypnotic and deeply meditative, it's FFO Mike Brooks, Deuter, Klaus Weiss, Innovative Communication, Harmonia, Cluster, Ashra's New Age of Earth, Stomu Yamashta, Haruka Nakamura, Yoshimura, Hosono, the works.

A record truly deserving of the deluxe Be With treatment, the vinyl was specially cut at Abbey Road Studios whilst the original stunning artwork has been pleasingly expanded. Now, an eye-catching holographic-foil layer moon is set against the original tones, wrapped up in a sumptuous double-gatefold jacket.

Soaked in Californian consciousness and limited to a run of just 500 copies for the world, this release is a treasured balm like no other for these troubled times.

Hatchback is the atmospheric, melodious ambient alias of California-based artist Samuel Milton Grawe. Sam creates music that sings of the Cosmos, full of deep resonant tones, glistening arpeggios, lush pads and harmonic motifs.

"When I first was getting into the creative side of music making in my teens, I was heavily influenced by concept albums like Quadrophenia and The Lamb Lies Down on Broadway, as well as epic pieces that took up an entire side of a record: Pink Floyd’s Echoes, Yes’ Close To The Edge, Klaus Schulze’s Nowhere Now Here, Miles Davis' Shhh/Peaceful and He Loved Him Madly. In the extreme, these ideas coalesced in double albums where each side of each record is occupied by a single title - Yes’ Tales From Topographic Oceans and Tangerine Dream’s Zeit being primary examples. When I returned to making music after moving back to Northern California in 2020, the first piece I recorded landed around the 20-minute mark, and the idea of creating three other long pieces to realize a full album felt like a natural - if indulgent - goal. From there, each new piece followed sequentially. Four songs. My fourth album." - Sam Grawe

Phaser For The Ocean Chorus For The Moon is a pure expression, informed by a lifetime of deep listening unbound by algorithms or AI. These are songs for the sunrise and the sunset - and every colour in between.

Kitsune No Yomeiri, which translates to the fox’s wedding, is an endearing expression used to describe sunshowers. Dawson returned home from a recent tour of Japan with a collection of field recordings documenting the spring rain he encountered throughout his travels. These curious sounds, stretching from peaceful shrines to clattering city streets, underpin the material.

Dawson also credits the wonderful folks he met on that tour with profoundly shaping the direction of the album. After each show he found himself immersed in inspiring conversations about the guitar. Through navigating the language barrier, he discovered he was communicating with an immense sincerity that he would ordinarily avoid at all costs. “I’ve always just made records at home in a vortex, but this time it felt like those conversations were there with me in the studio.”

Musically the album has a slight western slant. It’s not country, but it does see Dawson lean softly into his prairie past. Constellations of stray notes and rusted tones form nostalgic melodies, like chance encounters between old friends. Dawson allows phrases and gestures to repeat across the record, resulting in a collection that’s more akin to turning the pages of a novel than a series of vignettes vying for attention.

Long Slow Distance is an album about finding peace, and making peace where it can’t be found. It’s inspired by change, grief, acceptance, forgiveness, love, and running.

Dawson began running around the same time he started making records. At this point it’s unclear where one practice ends and the other begins. The album’s title has become the ethos he’s embraced for all things in life.

Long Slow Dance unravels the woven collage of his previous work. Here each song consists of three long guitar takes, panned across the stereo-field with minimal overdubs. “I remember my grandmother always kept a rain barrel on the farm. Just a simple vessel that served as a means for gathering water for the garden and the flowers. I wanted to instill that sentiment on this record. Other than some panning and recreational EQing, the computer was just a vessel to gather sounds.”

There is a distant grace to the album. A soft expanse, a quiet contrast. Guitars dissolve and then recalibrate. Sparse melodic motifs bloom and fracture. Warm chords clash and make amends. Alpenglow textures shimmer against tones that feel weathered by salt air. The songs are lightly propulsive, yet drift at a glacial pace. Fields and artifacts ground the material, like keeping your eyes on the horizon. Long Slow Distance feels intuitive, sentimental, and like Dawson is one step closer to whatever distance he is chasing.
Downloadable Assets

In a world increasingly shaped by disposable content, Chat Pile answer with something defiantly real and organic, a mentality that permeates Who Loves The Sun, their third full-length record. Since the band’s formation just over six years ago, the Oklahoma City-based quartet Chat Pile has grown from a scrappy passion project into one of the defining heavy acts to emerge from the 2020s underground. Ray B. (vocals), L. Manhole (guitar), Stin (bass), and Cap’n Ron (drums) create a crushing, crass, and cathartic take on noise rock that captures a raw, undeniably human essence in an age marked by technological overreach and the cold state of society. Nothing about Who Loves The Sun feels synthetic.

Whereas their debut album God’s Country depicted a particularly American flavor of dread, and the follow up Cool World showed a cruel planet defined by global systemic violence, Who Loves The Sun peels the skin back on how collective indifference defines this new century. Spanning imagery of coastlines devouring cities, dead-end jobs, and submission to data-driven inauthenticity, the album dissects the apathy-bloated state of 21st-century existence as a slow-motion apocalypse. As with much of Chat Pile’s work, Oklahoma City itself looms over the album like a character, its sprawling isolation, economic contradictions, and underlying sense of decay embedded in the fabric of the record. The perfect allegory for the thematic essence of Who Loves The Sun is the photo embossed on the record’s cover, where Devon Tower, a glassy, largely vacant monolith, looms high above the Oklahoma City skyline while a burnt-out home or storefront envelops the foreground. The album remains lyrically and sonically confrontational, but Chat Pile approached the songwriting with hooks in mind, drawing on melodic tones of pre-2000s indie rock, alt-rock, and new wave. From the blood-soaked vocal passages of “Christabel ’26” to the eerie trip-hop pulse of “Same Rules,” Who Loves The Sun is deeply human despite its allusions to a dying, divided .

In a world increasingly shaped by disposable content, Chat Pile answer with something defiantly real and organic, a mentality that permeates Who Loves The Sun, their third full-length record. Since the band’s formation just over six years ago, the Oklahoma City-based quartet Chat Pile has grown from a scrappy passion project into one of the defining heavy acts to emerge from the 2020s underground. Ray B. (vocals), L. Manhole (guitar), Stin (bass), and Cap’n Ron (drums) create a crushing, crass, and cathartic take on noise rock that captures a raw, undeniably human essence in an age marked by technological overreach and the cold state of society. Nothing about Who Loves The Sun feels synthetic.

Whereas their debut album God’s Country depicted a particularly American flavor of dread, and the follow up Cool World showed a cruel planet defined by global systemic violence, Who Loves The Sun peels the skin back on how collective indifference defines this new century. Spanning imagery of coastlines devouring cities, dead-end jobs, and submission to data-driven inauthenticity, the album dissects the apathy-bloated state of 21st-century existence as a slow-motion apocalypse. As with much of Chat Pile’s work, Oklahoma City itself looms over the album like a character, its sprawling isolation, economic contradictions, and underlying sense of decay embedded in the fabric of the record. The perfect allegory for the thematic essence of Who Loves The Sun is the photo embossed on the record’s cover, where Devon Tower, a glassy, largely vacant monolith, looms high above the Oklahoma City skyline while a burnt-out home or storefront envelops the foreground. The album remains lyrically and sonically confrontational, but Chat Pile approached the songwriting with hooks in mind, drawing on melodic tones of pre-2000s indie rock, alt-rock, and new wave. From the blood-soaked vocal passages of “Christabel ’26” to the eerie trip-hop pulse of “Same Rules,” Who Loves The Sun is deeply human despite its allusions to a dying, divided .

In a world increasingly shaped by disposable content, Chat Pile answer with something defiantly real and organic, a mentality that permeates Who Loves The Sun, their third full-length record. Since the band’s formation just over six years ago, the Oklahoma City-based quartet Chat Pile has grown from a scrappy passion project into one of the defining heavy acts to emerge from the 2020s underground. Ray B. (vocals), L. Manhole (guitar), Stin (bass), and Cap’n Ron (drums) create a crushing, crass, and cathartic take on noise rock that captures a raw, undeniably human essence in an age marked by technological overreach and the cold state of society. Nothing about Who Loves The Sun feels synthetic.

Whereas their debut album God’s Country depicted a particularly American flavor of dread, and the follow up Cool World showed a cruel planet defined by global systemic violence, Who Loves The Sun peels the skin back on how collective indifference defines this new century. Spanning imagery of coastlines devouring cities, dead-end jobs, and submission to data-driven inauthenticity, the album dissects the apathy-bloated state of 21st-century existence as a slow-motion apocalypse. As with much of Chat Pile’s work, Oklahoma City itself looms over the album like a character, its sprawling isolation, economic contradictions, and underlying sense of decay embedded in the fabric of the record. The perfect allegory for the thematic essence of Who Loves The Sun is the photo embossed on the record’s cover, where Devon Tower, a glassy, largely vacant monolith, looms high above the Oklahoma City skyline while a burnt-out home or storefront envelops the foreground. The album remains lyrically and sonically confrontational, but Chat Pile approached the songwriting with hooks in mind, drawing on melodic tones of pre-2000s indie rock, alt-rock, and new wave. From the blood-soaked vocal passages of “Christabel ’26” to the eerie trip-hop pulse of “Same Rules,” Who Loves The Sun is deeply human despite its allusions to a dying, divided .

In a world increasingly shaped by disposable content, Chat Pile answer with something defiantly real and organic, a mentality that permeates Who Loves The Sun, their third full-length record. Since the band’s formation just over six years ago, the Oklahoma City-based quartet Chat Pile has grown from a scrappy passion project into one of the defining heavy acts to emerge from the 2020s underground. Ray B. (vocals), L. Manhole (guitar), Stin (bass), and Cap’n Ron (drums) create a crushing, crass, and cathartic take on noise rock that captures a raw, undeniably human essence in an age marked by technological overreach and the cold state of society. Nothing about Who Loves The Sun feels synthetic.

Whereas their debut album God’s Country depicted a particularly American flavor of dread, and the follow up Cool World showed a cruel planet defined by global systemic violence, Who Loves The Sun peels the skin back on how collective indifference defines this new century. Spanning imagery of coastlines devouring cities, dead-end jobs, and submission to data-driven inauthenticity, the album dissects the apathy-bloated state of 21st-century existence as a slow-motion apocalypse. As with much of Chat Pile’s work, Oklahoma City itself looms over the album like a character, its sprawling isolation, economic contradictions, and underlying sense of decay embedded in the fabric of the record. The perfect allegory for the thematic essence of Who Loves The Sun is the photo embossed on the record’s cover, where Devon Tower, a glassy, largely vacant monolith, looms high above the Oklahoma City skyline while a burnt-out home or storefront envelops the foreground. The album remains lyrically and sonically confrontational, but Chat Pile approached the songwriting with hooks in mind, drawing on melodic tones of pre-2000s indie rock, alt-rock, and new wave. From the blood-soaked vocal passages of “Christabel ’26” to the eerie trip-hop pulse of “Same Rules,” Who Loves The Sun is deeply human despite its allusions to a dying, divided .

Fresh off of their 2020 offering Adult Themes, El Michels Affair is back with a new full-length release. Titled Yeti Season, this newest album has everything we've come to expect from EMA's patented cinematic style of instrumental soul music. Where Adult Themes inspired a soundtrack to an imaginary film, Yeti Season brings us to a different place in time_with new inspirations. Taken with Turkish-styled funk and an almost Mumbai-esque take on soul, El Michels Affair offers us a different kind of drama and imagination with Yeti Season. If you've been following along, this shouldn't be viewed as too far a departure for El Michels Affair. The first single off of Yeti Season showed their hand back in 2018. A double-sided banger, that release brought the musical textures to the fore that dominate this record. The first song, titled "Unathi," is fully realized with the beautifully haunting-yet-hopeful vocals of Piya Malik, formally of 79.5_another Big Crown artist. Singing in Hindi, Piya's ethereal voice is telling us to work and strive together toward progress. Even if you don't understand her language, you can still hear the urgency of purpose, creating a lasting vibe that sits on top of it all. Leon Michels explains that Piya had a vital influence on this record: "When Piya started singing in Hindi, she had a different voice, a different tone. I knew we had to do something together." And so Piya appears on three other songs on Yeti Season: "Zaharila," "Murkit Gem," and "Dhuaan." Each providing particular signatures to the album. "Zaharila" is a building and changing love song punctuated by blaring trumpets, driving drums, and Piya's pleading lyrics. While the more upbeat "Murkit Gem" opens with a fuzzed out, Wu-Tang-esque baseline that buoys Piya's stylings. The psychedelic guitar and Piya's changing tones and textures singing about an all-consuming love are what pushed "Dhuaan" on to the second single from Yeti Season. There is also a vocal appearance from Shannon Wise of The Shacks, yet another Big Crown artist. Her song called "Sha Na Na," lies more in the familiar EMA vein: melodic, hypnotic, soulfully visual. But between Shannon's airy singing, the jumpy baseline, moody vibes, the active drum lines, it sounds like a pensive walk home after a strangely dramatic night. So what is Yeti Season? It could be more of a feeling than an actual place or time of year. It's a heavy album_as evidenced by the signature musicianship and dramatic vocal expressions. But it's also a hopeful record, with phrasings, textures, and chord changes that hint at something better_or fuller_coming our way. You hear it in songs like "Ala Vida," with its stabby, pulsing chords laying a bedrock for EMA's bright, atmospheric horn lines. Or even in "Fazed Out," which leaves you with a feeling of determination, a striving for resolution even though the driving, march-like song structure should accompany some conquering army. This persistence has to come from the fact that Leon Michels and company finished this record during the lockdown. It was a tough and troublesome time. But look at what has come of it: Yeti Season_a record of high and heavy drama, but also one of hope and promise. It may take a year like 2020 behind us to find hope in a winter big footed creature like a Yeti, but that's where we are.

In Walter Benjamin’s seminal essay “Art in the Age of Mechanical Reproduction”, he posits that the aura of art objects is destroyed by the ability to photographically reproduce them. When you had to make a pilgrimage to a work it remained elusive, charged, ever distant; but when you can easily see a reproduction, such aura dissipates. What Benjamin did not anticipate is that in the age of AI and the frictionless fount of digital content, we have imbued mechanical and analog means of media production with aura. Film cameras from the last 100 years are in high demand (the point and shoot Olympus Mju I featured in Wim Wenders film Perfect Days still sells for $200), vinyl sales continue to grow year by year, 35mm and 70mm film screenings have become aura-drenched events people travel across country for, and as to the world of vintage and analog synthesizers, when a friend asked for the price on the Yamaha CS-80 synth used on Toto’s “Africa”, the answer was a cool $60,000.

Despite the ability to simulate almost any synthesizer on a computer, the original physical units retain their mystique. Perhaps this lies in the physical process, many of these synths are temperamental and difficult to fully utilize, and the effort and ingenuity can be felt in ways that will always be absent from easy digital simulacra. Perhaps there is an aura in their imperfection, as Brian Eno wrote: “Whatever you now find weird, ugly, uncomfortable and nasty about a new medium will surely become its signature. CD distortion, the jitteriness of digital video, the crap sound of 8-bit - all of these will be cherished and emulated as soon as they can be avoided.” Some may call this nostalgia, but such sonic imperfections are the sounds of humans interacting with the physical world, and it is understandable to feel a pang of emotion and attachment in a time of exponential alienation.

Marche 22 was recorded over a week at the Museo Del Synth Marchigiano in Macerata, Italy. The museum is filled with rare and obscure synths (especially CRB, GEM & Elka) as well as salvaged materials from a nearby shuttered Farfisa organ factory, including MARS, an unfinished realtime audio processing application developed by IRIS - similar to the now well known MAX/MSP. Kyle Dixon and Michael Stein play a suite of pieces that encompasses the last sixty years of synthesizer music—there are nods to Cluster, Tangerine Dream, Jean Michel Jarre, and Morton Subotnick. Dixon and Stein are like jazz masters playing the American songbook with their own riffs and quotations. What shines through in these varied works that are sometimes rhythmic, sometimes melancholic, and sometimes both, is a soul, a spirit, an emotion vibrating through the tones like the charge of coming rain or the thrum of a distant train on the tracks. - Neil Fauerso

Big Crown Records is proud to present the debut full length offering from Les Imprimés, Rêverie. The stirring and ethereal sounds of Les Imprimés have been making fans of anyone who hears them since their first 7" single hit the speakers. Morten Martens is the man behind the band. Born, raised, and working in Kristiansand, Norway, he keeps a low prole while making his heart felt, highly infectious, and unique music. This album is a long time coming for Martens and it is sure to make him a name to be reckoned with. The first thing you notice listening to Les Imprimés is the high level of musician-ship. Martens plays nearly every instrument on the recordings and handles the production and arranging. He has been making records for decades, winning a Spellemann Award (aka, the Norwegian Grammy) in 2006 for producing a HipHop album as well as getting nominations across three other genres. While awards and accolades speak to the level of his talent, this new album really shows who he is an artist on his own terms. Moving away from being a hired gun on the touring scene naturally led him to start doing more studio work. Slowly collecting gear and getting more experi-ence behind the boards he built his own studio on the island of Odderoya and was making a living playing with and recording other people's music. As the story goes, after those sessions would end he would work on his own project into the wee hours of the night. From these late night sessions, Les Imprimés was born and Rêverie began to take shape. However, "it wasn't until COVID, when things locked down, that I was really able to nd the time to focus on Les Imprimés" Morten says about creating and leading his own solo project. "It was a scary time. But I knew I had to do something with it." He took the sum of his inuences, combined them with his own vibe and got busy writing the music, playing the instruments, and singing the songs. "It's soul music, but I don't exactly have the soul voice," Morten explains humbly. "But I do it my own way, in a way that's mine. "It is his sound, his fingerprint, his sensibility, that makes his music hard to put in a box. The album showcases both Martens' range and his ability to make a cohesive album. The lead single "Falling Away" starts with a raw drum break and turns into a lushly arranged tune that paints the picture of love when it slips away. On "Still Here" he professes his resilience through life's twists and turns over a thundering track that puts a new spin on the B side ballad genre. Songs like "You" and "Our Love" mix tones from 60s and 70s Soul with arrangement nods to Doo Wop records while Martens' lyrics and delivery leave you singing the melodies long after they finish. "Love & Flowers" finds Martens in a moment of clarity with a song that ts the niche sub genre of happy break up tunes, the four on the floor track will move the dancefloor or while the message will resonate with anyone who put too much effort into the wrong situation in their lives. However, it is songs like "Muse" and "Chess" that really encapsulate the uniqueness of Les Imprimés as they push the boundaries of genre, one a profession of love for music and the other a cover of an electronic record respectively. Martens' lyrics, emotion, and delivery truly make the whole thing come together and stand out from any of his peers. There's an infectiousness and a pop sensibility in the writing that is done with the utmost class and taste giving Les Imprimés the rare quality of immediate attraction that only deepens the more you listen.

The compositions recorded here are a product of work with computers in synthetic speech, song and vocal sounds and were created between 1972 and 1975. The music was realized on two different computer music systems and takes advantage of, and attempts to extend and explore their features. The system employed to realize speech songs was created at the Bell Telephone Laboratories for research in synthetic speech and speech communication. Since the system was not designed for musical purposes, its limitations were severe and its musical use a great (and often rewarding) challenge. The system used for In Celebration and The Story of Our Lives was designed with the expressed purpose of creating synthetic musical voices, and was therefore much better suited to the task at hand. As with any high technology project, there was extensive collaboration in the production of the works.

The works on this disk are called computer music because the sounds were created numerically in a computer before reaching magnetic tape and loudspeakers. The computer did not compose the music. However, it was only used as a sound synthesis and analysis medium. In order to hear the sounds which are represented in the computer as successions of numbers it was necessary to attach a digital-to-analogue converter to the computer. The converter transformed the succession of numbers into a fluctuating voltage which was recorded directly on to audio tape.

The technique used to create the synthetic voices is called speech synthesis-by-analysis. For this method of speech synthesis, only those words, phrases and sentences which have been spoken into the computer previously (via an analogue-to-digital converter) may be synthesized. First the digitally-recorded speech is analyzed by programs which extract the attributes (parameters) of the speech for short time segments (.01 sec.). From these parameters the speech may be recreated in a form which resembles the original recording very closely. But for musical purposes the parameters are most often altered before synthesis. It is possible, for example, to change the natural pitch contour of the speech into a melodic line or to change the speech speed without altering the natural pitch level.

The variety of musical patterns which may be created from the analytic parameters is limited only by the composer's imagination. Most of the speech sounds on the recording were created by changing the pitch and duration attributes of the original on resynthesis, but for a few, the resonances (the formants) of the speech were altered as well. The voice of the book in The Story of Our Lives was created by replacing the program which simulates the sound of the human vocal cords with one consisting of 64 sine tones glissandoing at different rates. All the textures in which more than one voice is heard were obtained by mixing the synthetic voices together digitally.

Die Compilation vereint ikonische Tracks aus Tarantinos gesamtem filmischen Werk: von Pulp Fiction über Kill Bill bis Once Upon a Time in Hollywood. Mit dabei sind musikalische Größen wie Dick Dale, Johnny Cash, Joe Tex, The Coasters, The 5.6.7.8"s, Dee Clark, Keith Mansfield und viele mehr. Tarantino Sounds entführt in eine Welt aus Surf-Rock, Soul, Rockabilly und Retro-Vibes - genau wie Tarantino sie liebt und inszeniert.

offerings is a new project from Bruno Silva (Ondness, Serpente) and Gonçalo F. Cardoso (Lagoss, Prophetas, Hannibal Chew III).

Born from a shared obsession with the peripheral—rain puddles, empty city spaces and the flickering crawl of late-night credits—the album occupies a stalled threshold; a space that refuses to resolve into a clear image. It does not strive for the "new" nor the "old"; it exists in a state of suspension, like end credits that refuse to roll, fixed in a permanent noumenal state.

Composed through a frantic exchange of files during the stormy winter of 2026, End Credits Noumena functions as a document of inner domestic spaces. It captures a floating, jam-like camaraderie between two artists with shared fixations and divergent sound palettes. The result is gritty and acetic — a series of random, eerie transmissions that remain strangely inviting. These are offerings, left over for whoever chooses to claim them.

Hatchback is the alias of Samuel Milton Grawe. Sam creates music that sings of the Cosmos, full of deep resonant tones, glistening arpeggios, lush pads and harmonic motifs. ‘Phaser For The Ocean, Chorus For The Moon’ is his magnum opus, a sprawling masterwork that encompasses ambient, new age and environmental music to wondrous effect. Soaked in Californian consciousness, the album is a balm like no other for these troubled times.

When I first was getting into the creative side of music making in my teens, I was heavily influenced by concept albums like ‘Quadrophenia’ and ‘The Lamb Lies Down on Broadway’, as well as epic pieces that took up an entire side of a record: Pink Floyd’s ‘Echoes’, Yes’ ‘Close To The Edge’, Klaus Schulze’s ‘Nowhere Now Here’, Miles Davis' ‘Shhh/Peaceful’ and ‘He Loved Him Madly’. In the extreme, these ideas coalesced in double albums where each side of each record is occupied by a single title - Yes’ ‘Tales From Topographic Oceans’, and Tangerine Dream’s ‘Zeit’ being primary examples. When I returned to making music after moving back to Northern California in 2020, the first piece I recorded landed around the 20-minute mark, and the idea of creating three other long pieces to realize a full album felt like a natural - if indulgent - goal. From there, each new piece followed sequentially. Four songs. My fourth album. - Sam Grawe

‘Phaser For The Ocean Chorus For The Moon’ is a pure expression, informed by a lifetime of deep listening unbound by algorithms or AI.
These are songs for the sunrise and the sunset - and every colour in between.

a 01. And The Walls Became The World All Around [18:53]
[b] 02. Phaser For The Ocean, Chorus For The Moon [21:48]
[c] 03. Other Desert Cities [20:19]
[d] 04. Friendship Fountain [18.33]

Michaela Turcerová’s compositions unfold in slow motion. The saxophonist and composer’s glacial music zeroes in on the granularities of each note as it rings, soaking in every subtle shift in texture and pitch.

Šumum exemplifies this patient approach to writing music, branching out from themes of loss and togetherness into an intricate tapestry of introspective sound. These four pieces invite deep collaboration between performers, who together shape the music through the shared process of listening and interpreting Turcerová’s relatively open scores. And while these works often grow from long, stretched-out tones, they also foreground forward direction: no note stays in one place, no melody is without action. Instead, Šumum chronicles how the tiniest shifts can lead to major transformation.

Šumum builds from Turcerová’s longheld interests in place and minimalism. Many of the composer’s works explore perception: how a room can shape the music we hear, and how repetition alters a melody. Like the music of Éliane Radigue, Šumum embraces the rainbow of colors that appear when close listening with the wave-like flow of looped melodic and rhythmic patterns. All the album’s pieces observe the subtle changes that happen as music grows.

Group communication yields the constant evolution that defines Šumum. The album feels like a conversation, with each instrumentalist swapping phrases or trading places when the moment feels right. “Straty” builds from a series of strongly accented drones that appear as quickly as they fade away; underneath them is a perpetual rhythm that drives the color of each long held note, from melancholy into radiance and back again. With “Vlny,” pitch eventually disappears, leaving a delicate rhythm, and with “Masy,” a matrix of brassy tones link together and eventually burst. No matter where the music goes, one thing remains true: Šumum invites close listening, and in the process, reveals the beauty of continual motion.

Sometimes an album title arrives like a voice from across time. For Johanna Samuels, Sorry, Kid began as a message to her younger self, part apology and part recognition. Gathering songs written as far back as 2007 alongside newer work, the album bridges nearly two decades of lived experience.

The record holds 70s tones without leaning on them, drawing from a lineage of melody and restraint while staying fully alive in its own time. It feels lived in, steady, and quietly powerful, like something finally understood without needing to be explained. The result is intimate and fully realized, songs that began as questions now settling into something like resolution.

Fiat Lux return with Desire & Belief, their third album of new material this millennium, following their acclaimed comeback LPs Saved Symmetry and Twisted Culture. The trio—Steve Wright, Will Howard, and David P Crickmore—combine modern production with vintage synths and instruments rooted in their Polydor-era beginnings to craft ten tracks that span cinematic atmospheres, synth-pop anthems, and moody electronica. Tracks like "Clear Sky " and "Turn Me Around" offer hook-laden synth-pop, while "Summer Solstice " and "Am I Dreaming " delve into ambient and darker tones. Desire & Belief is a natural progression for Fiat Lux—retaining the spirit of their 1980s Northern roots in synth, goth, and indie, yet confidently stepping into new sonic territory for long-time fans and new listeners alike. RIYL: Blancmange, OMD, Scary Thieves, Tears For Fears

Power Electronics, for the most part, stays within its lanes of transgressive misanthropy, with a blackened explosiveness of tortured psyches and nightmarish reflections for the darkest facets of the human condition. Since Whitehouse introduced the phrase, concept, and framework to Power Electronics, its authorship has been primarily male. But within the past decade or so, a diverse web of voices - female, feminist, non-binary, queer - has thrust the PE aesthetic beyond that of the tortured male artist. As such, the notion that Power Electronics is synonymous with true crime worship, political ugliness, degraded sexual fantasies, and misogynistic perspectives has been somewhat dispelled (though many still pursue such ignoble agendas).

Enter Ester Kärkkäinen. For close to a decade now, she has developed her own voice, tread her own path, and exorcised her own demons in her unique take on Power Electronics, recording as Himukalt. A Power Electronics album based on the collapse of a relationship is probably not as uncommon as one might think. The sexual violence portrayed through Power Electronics may very well have had its origins in the heartbroken, scorned, or otherwise romantically mistreated. Kärkkäinen gives us two very different perspectives on these themes through two rather different sounding records. There is Last Wish from the plague year of 2020, and there is Torn Asunder: The Half Girl, recorded in 2019. Where the 2020 record is a long-form fever dream of the erotic gone horribly wrong and turned morally questionable, Torn Asunder is the more fractured, yet more concise extrapolation of Kärkkäinen's anger, horror, confusion, and depression from the end of a sexless relationship. She nakedly reveals a psyche that has been shattered, scarred, and broken as she alternates between deadpanned proclamations and barked sermons amidst the harrowing articulation of heavy industrial electronics, laced with shrill feedback tones, disjointed rhythms, and harsh noise outbursts. Torn Asunder stands as a significant milestone in Himukalt's catalogue, but remains one her most rarely heard documents given it was originally published as part of Helen Scarsdale's instantly out of print, 10 cassette On Corrosion boxset. With this vinyl reissue, Torn Asunder can get a proper re-evaluation as one of her strongest works.

Hailing from Las Vegas, Himukalt began in 2016 as a vehicle for Kärkkäinen's noise constructs and crude programming that found references to Puce Mary, Anenzephalia, and Atrax Morgue’s Mörder Machine. Since then, she has maintained a manic schedule with releases for Tesco Organisation, Cloister Recordings, Old Europa Cafe and her own EK Verlag. With the release of Torn Asunder, Helen Scarsdale terminates the mission for the On Corrosion reissue campaign.

In December 2025, I performed alongside Asmus Tietchens and Jetzmann at the final Hörbar Ausklang Festival. This cassette was produced for that occasion. It contains preliminary studies for my live modular synthesiser performance.

The tape wasn't sold on the night, and its release ended up being postponed until now. At one point I had almost forgotten that I had even produced it. Now it's finally here—but what does that change?

Side A features a 24-minute piece titled Aber Was Ändert Das? (What Does That Change?)
Aber Was ändert Das? – Two oscillators coupled via a comparator and routed through a filter bank form the foundation of this piece. Eight filters within the bank are modulated by a synchronised octal triangle wave. Over time, the modulation gradually unfolds like an abanico (fan), shifting into different patterns. The impulses slowly dissolve into noise. A looping voice tape is added to the texture, and the piece concludes with a melody of comb-filtered sine tones.

Side B presents several variations and adjustments of a self-generative patch.

Quantitative Unbestimmbarkeit I-V (Quantitative Indeterminacy I–IV) – At the core of these pieces is a source of uncertainty and three function generators programmed in mutual feedback. The tonal material is derived from a wave-folded sine wave, a noise source, and a pinged state-variable filter. This type of self-generative patch is commonly known as a Krell patch.

The edition is limited to 50 copies. Release day will be the August 7th, 2026.

The title Miszellen Band is derived from the term Miszelle (plural: Miszellen), which refers to a short informative text or brief scholarly essay, often published in academic journals or collected volumes under a "Miscellanea" section. The word originates from the Latin miscella, meaning "mixed things". Such texts typically explore highly specific subjects without the scope or depth of a full-length study. They often consist of etymological notes, addenda to previously published work, concise discussions, or small discoveries from archives.

The second album from Chicago based Brigette Calls Me Baby firmly establishes them as a band to watch. It's fair to say that they are a band that takes a lot of influence from 1980s UK indie in general and The Smiths in particular. Opening track 'There's Always' finds vocalist Wes Leavins channelling Morrissey's finer moments; and in particular those moments when Morrissey was in thrall to the crooners of the 1950s. This is particularly poignant in relation to the themes that run through the album, most notably the idea that certain moments in your history shape your very being for the rest of your life. Clearly hearing certain records has shaped Brigette Calls Me Baby as much as those all important life-change moments. That's not to say this a band that isn't ploughing its own furrow, songs like "Slumber Party" with its relentless bassline and dance influenced drums show a band that can mix its influences are create something unique. "I Can Take The Sun Out Of The Sky' might have those darkened crooning tones from Leavins, but they can't keep a lid on the sheer positivity that his band is generating, it has the feel of a real summer anthem.

When ELEH's debut "Floating Frequencies/Intuitive Synthesis I" was originally released it was praised as a powerful piece of new electronic minimalism. Twenty years later the artist's legacy has grown while ELEH continues to hypnotize new listeners with time stopping music. Critics, fans and neurologists have praised the music of ELEH as aiding attention and focus while seeming to slow time. Eleh's slow change drones are a state of flow hypnotizing listeners into meditative focus.

From the original packaging, "Pure Sound. Pure Volume. Pure Analog. Dedicated To La Monte Young"

ELEH began in 1999 as an exploration of analog synthesis, emphasizing low frequency difference tones and other resonant acoustic phenomena. ELEH highlights the physical presence of sound as it has been inspired by the physical world. There is also something ‘cathedral-like’ and cosmos-inducing in the sound constructed by ELEH.

This audiophile quality presentation of ELEH's debut album was mastered by Tom Eaton at Sounds And Substance and manufactured at Optimal in Germany for the lowest possible noise floor and the highest analog resolution. Packaged using a 5th color metallic shimmer ink on solid black board stock.

"Nuances of sound turn symphonic." New York Times

“ELEH’s sounds move by stealth and are sculpted from the world rather than from ego. Eleh is not a personality; Eleh is an idea about sound. ELEH forces you to contemplate the cosmos and your place in it. “ Gramophone

"ELEH demonstrates how a single amplified gesture delivered just so can reveal the inner workings of an entire cosmos." Tony Herrington/Wire

“Floating Frequencies/Intuitive Synthesis more than lives up to the mythic status that ELEH has ascended to. “ Brainwashed

"ELEH's music electrifies whatever space it engages. With the flip of a switch, it exposes the ways in which all space is, potentially, electric." ~ Frieze

born (literally) in fire, soma flared briefly as the alchemical pairing of two unique and dynamic musicians. david thrussell and pieter bourke met through mutual friends in the artistic melting-pot of early 1990s elwood, melbourne, australia. bourke was an integral member of the gothically ambient eden, thrussell frontman of anarchic industrial combo snog. both admired each others work, and though some considered them an unlikely combination, something rather potent was brewing which drew them inexorably together.

initially bourke joined snog live and then in the studio, contributing mightily to their epic second album ‘dear valued customer’. as a natural result of their friendship and muse, thrussell and bourke instituted their own project, soma, to explore the intersections of arcane and mysterious technologies. the first soma album “hollow earth” was released to acclaim.

soon after, thrussell was awoken by a 3am knock on his door. bourke was now homeless - the result of a devastating fire that had just torn through his apartment and studio - and he needed somewhere to sleep. this is when work on ‘the inner cinema’ began, with bourke and thrussell ensconced in the same dwelling, able to write and record around the clock (often only leaving to plan the next session while dining at local vegan eateries).

at the time thrussell was obsessed by the testosterone bravado and haunting alienation of ‘spaghetti-western’ theme songs, while bourke brought his love of all things percussive and the other-worldly atmospherics of arvo pärt (with the outer-space dub of king tubby) to the mix. together, on a diet of blood-plum sago, fortean times and lingering smoke fumes, they concocted their dadaist brew.

magical and unforgettable, ‘the inner cinema’ stands apart and outside of the musical mainstream. since its 1996 release the album has developed a mythical reputation and is spoken of in hushed and adulating tones among acolytes of atmospheric and electronic music. you hold in your hands a lovingly remastered deluxe reissue of this sonorous gem.

time marches on, and after a few more sporadic soma recordings bourke and thrussell moved on to other pastures. bourke would work with dead can dance, lisa gerrard and hollywood auteur michael mann, as thrussell toured regularly with snog and black lung, cut some interesting soundtracks and birthed the idiosyncratic omni recording corporation.

expelled from its fiery crucible, this dark jewel of sound, this soundtrack of the mind, has lain in the soft earth awaiting rediscovery. fluid metabolic rhythms and breathy washes of timeless melancholy pulsing, inviting, in the warm soil. now is your chance.

New York’s Ma Sha brings wigged-out rhythms to Nerve Collect with an explosive, future-facing new EP. The six tracks prove she is bound by no rules but knows exactly how to energise the club.

Ma Sha deals in sounds that operate outside the usual boundaries and demand full-bodied, physical reactions. She has become a driving force in the New York underground with Kindergarten, which is both a much-loved party and a much hyped label. Though built on global techno foundations, Sha’s grooves range from peak-time brain melters to more twisted and rugged, always at high tempo and with plenty of invention on labels like Steel City Dance Discs and Rhythm Section International.

‘Salpa’ opens with a clipped rhythm drenched in neon and psychedelic swirls as oversized bass cocoons from below with glitchy vocal fragments and hard but bouncy techno momentum. ‘Gillz’ swallows you in waves of bass and rubber kicks while screwy synths spray across the mix while a syncopated broken beat brings irresistible funk to a post-human world. ‘Shots’, a collab track with Hodge, works in overdrive with rising tones and liquid metal textures that trap you in a hall of mirrors. Intense club pressure builds with pristine percussion and hyperreal vocals.

‘Spinmachine’ is a freaky sound world of fuzzy synths, cantering drums and static electricity that is full of threat and never lets go. ‘Total Energy’ locks into rolling drums and hyping swing with descending leads and a sense of future rave chaos designed for sheer dance floor release.

Ma Sha’s sound designs feel beamed back from the future to rewire familiar rhythms that tickle the brain as they make their way through your entire body.

Gulp Joachim Nordwall’s queasiest, most curdled synth tones on this supremely detuned co-op with Athens’ Stellage crew = 45 minutes of pure nasal-drip tang and gungy pulses tipped FFO Connor Camburn, Wolf Eyes, Conrad Schnitzler, Ilpo Väisänen’s Liima alltimers.

Joachim Nordwall’s 1st solo jaunt since capping the ‘Healing Music’ series in ’23 finds the DIY linchpin and serial collaborator coaxing potently psychoactive tones from an undisclosed set up. It appears to be one of his most intently focussed jags in recent memory, concentrated on juicing a paucity of ingredients for optimal flavour. Nothing that new then? Well, aye, but when he really gets into it, with an effect that really probes parts of the psyche untouched by anything we’ve heard from him before, he produces synaesthetic sounds that frankly makes our ears salivate.

A starting exercise in plucky pulse-work recalling Robert Aiki Aubrey Lowe initiates a real descent into the nether regions of Nordwall’s imagination, pulling into sepulchral drone on ‘Trance Recording’ and Droog wet dream material on ‘Abandoned Test Site’, while allowing for some levity in the lacquer-crackling pulse poem ‘Expand Your Mind’. However, he soon pitches back into resonant, metallic sonorities with durational conviction on a ‘Some Skies Overlap’ bringing to mind Connor Camburn works, but with an icier edge, and his title track spews molten drums in a rumbling, spark-spitting torrent.

Proper filth. Snorkel it!

Tipped by many as a true DJ’s DJ, London’s Isaac Carter has a sound that sits between heritage and reinterpretation. Drawing from the iconic hubs of Chicago and Detroit, his productions reframe classic influences with a contemporary UK perspective, prioritising groove, swing, and a stripped, functional edge.

At the heart of his work, Carter has developed his Ochi imprint, where his deeper material has circulated within a select circle of DJs, with love from names such as Ben UFO, Raresh, and Joy Orbison. A controlled outlet for ideas shaped specifically for club use, that approach also carries over into his sets, playing at the likes of DC10, Glastonbury, and Love International.

Fresh from his appearance for the London favourites at FUSE’s annual Open Air showcase, Enzo Siragusa now welcomes him to the label for the first time as he brings a collection of cuts that journey into varying corners of the house sphere.

The ‘Disconnected’ EP brings five tracks built around direct function and contrast. ‘Disconnected’ opens with rolling low-end pressure and slinking drums, loaded with swing, setting a clear rhythmic foundation for the project. ‘Bad Girl’ shifts into a more playful space, led by vocal fragments, hazy chords and dubby tones. On the B-side, ‘What We Do’ leans into crisp repetition sitting beneath shifting, trippy movement, followed by ‘Loopy’, which strips things back into a reduced late-night percussive trip.

Whodamanny expands the Biloba catalog with a new double‑single: two cuts that echo the energy of Onda Biloba while opening a fresh chapter. Italo disco meets Spanish tones and Latin rhythm in a crisp, memorable blend.

“Vamos” delivers mid‑tempo late‑80s private‑press heat; “Energia” fires upward with a classic driving bassline in pure Cerrone spirit.

The release also includes two alternate, differently titled versions — “Chocolate Dub”, a dubbed‑out excursion built on delay‑feedback spirals, wild send‑return abuse, and live mute‑solo action on the mixer, and “1,2,3,4!”, a more percussive, stripped‑down take

Futurismo are thrilled to present Give Thanks, the long out of press 1984 hardcore classic by Articles Of Faith. Produced by Bob Mould, and newly remastered directly from the original tapes, this powerhouse of a record is now coming on both LP and CD after being unavailable for decades. Originally released in 1984, the debut LP Give Thanks by Chicago hardcore legends Articles Of Faith, is proof a hardcore record can be both political and poetic. Fuelled by rage, introspection and a musical progression that could be seen as a blueprint for what would later become known as post-hardcore, this album ticks every box you want from a record of the era: intense, emotive, scathing, unpredictable, all topped off by the masterful production of Bob Mould (Hüsker Dü/Sugar). Give Thanks is perhaps overlooked in many top ten’s of the genre, but leaving the bands debut LP off that list would be a mistake. A demonstration in raw emotion and political angst, Give Thanks harnesses a sound that could have only happened during the Reagan era. Hardcore was of course a musical explosion built upon aggression and discontent, yet Give Thanks forcefully fuses this concept of raw power with a multitude of musical influences at a time when some of their contemporaries perhaps seemed to tread water. Whilst the principles and sonics harnessed on AOF’s debut album may have had more in common with the sounds coming out of Washington D.C., this record has an authentic Chicago savvy running through it, effortlessly projecting a street level tone whilst simultaneously aiming to show the possibilities of what a hardcore record could be. In retrospect, AOF’s debut was a hardcore album ahead of it’s time, perhaps the reason it’s fervent themes and artistry still feel so fresh and relevant. Whether that’s due to Vic Bondi’s gravelly tones geared to critique the societal regime at play, or the considered guitar work aimed to both blast and texturize, or the intense drums rhythms inspired by jazz and dub, there is a depth to the final album that feels like a band testing their parameters, one listen to ‘Every Man For Himself’ and you know you are listening to something special. Familiarity and originality rarely crossover, but in this case they coexist to leave us with a forward thinking punk record that is more interested in shouting it’s emotions from the street, than it is screaming into a vacuum.

A true American hardcore record, and a must for fans of Minor Threat, Dead Kennedy’s, Bad Brains and Fugazi.

Gloss laminated digipak CD & Limited edition pink & white colour vinyl.

Based out of Brighton, UK, Murmurations have been steadily carving their path as an essential label for distinctive dancefloor moods. The fourth record on the imprint is the launch of a new series titled 'Flock', focusing on bringing different artists together who share similar visions and tastes. Volume one features Evasive frontman Rob Pearson with Paul Donton and label founder Leo Christopher on the A-side. On the flip, you have rising Manchester talent Huw Shipps and Bubble resident The Adventures Of Dogman. This amalgamation of producers has materialised into a record that focuses on nostalgic tech house textures, infused with modern elements and deep, dub tones.

First up is Rob Pearson & Paul Donton's excursion, 'Ideas Abstract'. Slinky drums pave the way, as pensive vocals circulate around the distinct and perky drive of the track. The aptly named 'Underground' from Murmurations boss Leo Christopher teases a more mysterious energy, with pulsating bass in combination with tight drum arrangements. The emerging producer Huw Shipps kicks off the B-side with a playful outing; quirky elements splash in and out throughout the track. Finishing off the release is dancefloor heater 'Cruising Around On A Pair Of Naughty Pennies', chunky and driven as it moves, ready to do the damage, keeping the club locked in.

The Murmurations curation thus far has seen each release shine bright, with timeless music for the club, no-nonsense, heads-down action, and long may that continue.

In spring 2025, Abul Mogard and Rafael Anton Irisarri created the source material for their second album, Where Light Pauses in the Silence of the Sun, during a three-day residency at Morphine Raum in Berlin. Functioning as both recording studio and performance venue, the space has no stage, with the audience gathered around the performers. Working within an open framework, the duo reshaped the music each evening while recording the performances live to multitrack. Rotary speakers, modular synthesizers and bowed guitar formed the core of their sonic language, captured through a 1970s mixing console and microphones placed around the room.

Back in Mogard’s studio in Rome, the material was further crafted as motifs were stretched, fragments isolated, and tempos dissolved. Irisarri recorded additional guitar textures and treatments in New York, while passages recorded by Martina Bertoni and Andrea Burelli in Berlin reinforced the harmonic centres and brought breath, refinement and a new sensibility to their compositions. The process continued as Mogard’s layering and subtraction reassembled everyone’s parts into the final arrangement.

The album opens with “In the Eastern Wild,” building from a sparse outline into a monumental formation of low-frequency weight, its internal motion shaped by the rotating Leslie speaker. “Over the Domes” widens into a broader acoustic field, where sustained modular tones meet waves of softly plucked guitar. The music then turns inward with “A Blue Descent,” centred on Bertoni’s cello, whose growling timbre introduces a melancholic depth.

At the album’s centre, “In a Quiet Radiance” unfolds around a slow guitar ostinato, its luminous stillness opening into a more expansive and reflective state. Across its ten-minute span, Burelli’s violin lines and Bertoni’s lower cello phrases gradually surface, weaving through the harmonic field. Mogard brings Burelli’s processed voice to the fore, its emotive, operatic presence becoming one of the record’s pivotal moments. “Of Blessed Ages” suspends the sonic flow, shifting between parallel major and minor chords as lingering, slowly decaying melodies shape the music’s internal drift. The closing “Among Shadows” settles into a darker resonance as layered textures recede.

Mogard and Irisarri’s shared language balances restraint and maximalism. UK magazine Crack describes the music as “a tidal wave held in suspension,” while Dutch newspaper de Volkskrant writes, “What a colossal sound, and how this music strikes at the emotions.” Reflecting on the residency sessions, Irisarri recalls: “At moments I genuinely couldn’t tell if a sound was coming from me or from Abul. It stopped feeling like two people making decisions and began to feel like we were inside a system moving on its own."

Marja de Sanctis’ cover artwork revisits the vessel sculpture from the duo’s first album, Impossibly Distant, Impossibly Close. There it appeared as raw, unfired clay. Here it has been fired in the kiln and finished with a glaze. Light gathers on its polished surface and spills into the surrounding space. As she explains, “I wanted to convey the idea of continuity within the duo, and the vessel became a kind of container for that idea. However, their music felt different this time, and with the collaboration of Martina and Andrea, I felt it should have a sleeker, softer, more glamorous look, very distant from the first raw appearance.” The transformation of the vessel from raw clay to fired form suggests a passage from immediacy toward permanence, mirroring the music’s gradual expansion.

In spring 2025, Abul Mogard and Rafael Anton Irisarri created the source material for their second album, Where Light Pauses in the Silence of the Sun, during a three-day residency at Morphine Raum in Berlin. Functioning as both recording studio and performance venue, the space has no stage, with the audience gathered around the performers. Working within an open framework, the duo reshaped the music each evening while recording the performances live to multitrack. Rotary speakers, modular synthesizers and bowed guitar formed the core of their sonic language, captured through a 1970s mixing console and microphones placed around the room.

Back in Mogard’s studio in Rome, the material was further crafted as motifs were stretched, fragments isolated, and tempos dissolved. Irisarri recorded additional guitar textures and treatments in New York, while passages recorded by Martina Bertoni and Andrea Burelli in Berlin reinforced the harmonic centres and brought breath, refinement and a new sensibility to their compositions. The process continued as Mogard’s layering and subtraction reassembled everyone’s parts into the final arrangement.

The album opens with “In the Eastern Wild,” building from a sparse outline into a monumental formation of low-frequency weight, its internal motion shaped by the rotating Leslie speaker. “Over the Domes” widens into a broader acoustic field, where sustained modular tones meet waves of softly plucked guitar. The music then turns inward with “A Blue Descent,” centred on Bertoni’s cello, whose growling timbre introduces a melancholic depth.

At the album’s centre, “In a Quiet Radiance” unfolds around a slow guitar ostinato, its luminous stillness opening into a more expansive and reflective state. Across its ten-minute span, Burelli’s violin lines and Bertoni’s lower cello phrases gradually surface, weaving through the harmonic field. Mogard brings Burelli’s processed voice to the fore, its emotive, operatic presence becoming one of the record’s pivotal moments. “Of Blessed Ages” suspends the sonic flow, shifting between parallel major and minor chords as lingering, slowly decaying melodies shape the music’s internal drift. The closing “Among Shadows” settles into a darker resonance as layered textures recede.

Mogard and Irisarri’s shared language balances restraint and maximalism. UK magazine Crack describes the music as “a tidal wave held in suspension,” while Dutch newspaper de Volkskrant writes, “What a colossal sound, and how this music strikes at the emotions.” Reflecting on the residency sessions, Irisarri recalls: “At moments I genuinely couldn’t tell if a sound was coming from me or from Abul. It stopped feeling like two people making decisions and began to feel like we were inside a system moving on its own."

Marja de Sanctis’ cover artwork revisits the vessel sculpture from the duo’s first album, Impossibly Distant, Impossibly Close. There it appeared as raw, unfired clay. Here it has been fired in the kiln and finished with a glaze. Light gathers on its polished surface and spills into the surrounding space. As she explains, “I wanted to convey the idea of continuity within the duo, and the vessel became a kind of container for that idea. However, their music felt different this time, and with the collaboration of Martina and Andrea, I felt it should have a sleeker, softer, more glamorous look, very distant from the first raw appearance.” The transformation of the vessel from raw clay to fired form suggests a passage from immediacy toward permanence, mirroring the music’s gradual expansion.

In spring 2025, Abul Mogard and Rafael Anton Irisarri created the source material for their second album, Where Light Pauses in the Silence of the Sun, during a three-day residency at Morphine Raum in Berlin. Functioning as both recording studio and performance venue, the space has no stage, with the audience gathered around the performers. Working within an open framework, the duo reshaped the music each evening while recording the performances live to multitrack. Rotary speakers, modular synthesizers and bowed guitar formed the core of their sonic language, captured through a 1970s mixing console and microphones placed around the room.

Back in Mogard’s studio in Rome, the material was further crafted as motifs were stretched, fragments isolated, and tempos dissolved. Irisarri recorded additional guitar textures and treatments in New York, while passages recorded by Martina Bertoni and Andrea Burelli in Berlin reinforced the harmonic centres and brought breath, refinement and a new sensibility to their compositions. The process continued as Mogard’s layering and subtraction reassembled everyone’s parts into the final arrangement.

The album opens with “In the Eastern Wild,” building from a sparse outline into a monumental formation of low-frequency weight, its internal motion shaped by the rotating Leslie speaker. “Over the Domes” widens into a broader acoustic field, where sustained modular tones meet waves of softly plucked guitar. The music then turns inward with “A Blue Descent,” centred on Bertoni’s cello, whose growling timbre introduces a melancholic depth.

At the album’s centre, “In a Quiet Radiance” unfolds around a slow guitar ostinato, its luminous stillness opening into a more expansive and reflective state. Across its ten-minute span, Burelli’s violin lines and Bertoni’s lower cello phrases gradually surface, weaving through the harmonic field. Mogard brings Burelli’s processed voice to the fore, its emotive, operatic presence becoming one of the record’s pivotal moments. “Of Blessed Ages” suspends the sonic flow, shifting between parallel major and minor chords as lingering, slowly decaying melodies shape the music’s internal drift. The closing “Among Shadows” settles into a darker resonance as layered textures recede.

Mogard and Irisarri’s shared language balances restraint and maximalism. UK magazine Crack describes the music as “a tidal wave held in suspension,” while Dutch newspaper de Volkskrant writes, “What a colossal sound, and how this music strikes at the emotions.” Reflecting on the residency sessions, Irisarri recalls: “At moments I genuinely couldn’t tell if a sound was coming from me or from Abul. It stopped feeling like two people making decisions and began to feel like we were inside a system moving on its own."

Marja de Sanctis’ cover artwork revisits the vessel sculpture from the duo’s first album, Impossibly Distant, Impossibly Close. There it appeared as raw, unfired clay. Here it has been fired in the kiln and finished with a glaze. Light gathers on its polished surface and spills into the surrounding space. As she explains, “I wanted to convey the idea of continuity within the duo, and the vessel became a kind of container for that idea. However, their music felt different this time, and with the collaboration of Martina and Andrea, I felt it should have a sleeker, softer, more glamorous look, very distant from the first raw appearance.” The transformation of the vessel from raw clay to fired form suggests a passage from immediacy toward permanence, mirroring the music’s gradual expansion.

One of the true, undisputed pioneers of Dutch techno, Steve Rachmad appears on Dekmantel for an EP of peerless machine music. On the 3-6-9 EP, the artist also known as Sterac, Parallel 9 and many other names plies a powerful trade in funked up, gritty and soulful techno made the proper way.

The connection between Rachmad and Dekmantel reaches back many years via his frequent appearances at the Dekmantel Festival — he has two performances at the 2026 edition as well as sets at Dekmantel Selectors lined up later in the summer. The 3-6-9 EP lands ahead of an album and world tour that marks 45 years in service to electronic music, nodding to Rachmad's earliest roots in electro funk through to his day-one embrace of house and techno as it made its way across the Atlantic from Chicago and Detroit.

There's a rowdy, rave-spirited energy to the synth hook bucking its way through the centre of '3 Creation Energy', coming on in brassy tones laced with artful distortion while the drums dutifully jack the way they ought to. There's a more linear, pressure cooker quality to the tidal filter work guiding '6 Physical Manifestation' to its own energetic peaks, while '9 Completion and Delivery' surfs on coursing waves of arpeggiated lead lines before breaking through to the oceanic calm of grandiose pad tones.

There's no mystery to unpick here — this is quite simply techno perfection made with the instinct and experience of a master of the form, whose life is synonymous with every inch of the culture.

Delroy Wilson’s rich vocal tones always added magic to any song put his way. The ‘Cool Operator’ as he was affectionately named, after he worked on a tune with the legendary Jamican producer Bunny Lee.

A match made in heaven that you will hear on the album where he was put against some of the finest rhythms made in what would be a high point in Reggae’s history.

Delroy Wilson (b.1948 Kingston, Jamaica) began his musical career at the school which was Coxonne Dodd’s Studio One label. His first release at the tender age of 13 was the Lee Perry produced ‘Joe Liges’. This Ska enhanced tune gave the young singer his first hit
and the follow up single ‘Spit in the Sky’ that also flew out the record store doors.

After a brief stop in 1969, Delroy began working for producer Sonia Pottinger’s Tip Top label which gave him more hits including ‘It Hurts’ and ‘Put Yourself in My Place’.

The 1970’s saw Delroy Wilson’s arrival at Bunny ‘Striker’ Lee’s door and what would turn into a winning formula, scoringhit after hit.
It is from this great period in Delroy’s career that we have compiled this selection of killer tracks, cut with drum and bass rhythm kings themselves Sly Dunbar and Robbie Shakespeare.

A great dub set mixed at the one and only King Tubby’s studio … We hope you enjoy the set …

Omega Sunrise was a US funk and soul outfit made from several members of the Seawind Horns and spent around eight months a year on the road from 1979 to 1986. They recorded a debut album in 1983 that charted well nationally and years on, Feel The Change remains a favourite of deep diggers. It was a 1983 private press release that had it all, from tight, snappy drums with mellow soul vocals and jazzy melodies drenched in spiritual vibes to more slow funk cuts with more defined drums. Brass tones, synth glows and a devotional energy all pervade the 11 cuts and this is its first-ever vinyl reissue, so do not sleep.

Mark Jenkin, the BAFTA Award winning director, editor, screenwriter, cinematographer and musician, presents the score to his new film, Rose of Nevada on Invada Records. Unique among British feature filmmakers for the analogue way in which he crafts his films - all three feature films have been shot on 16mm using a Bolex clockwork camera – as well as his multifaceted roles as the writer, director, director of photography and editor of the film, once more he is responsible for handling the sound design and composing the original score.

The new score mirrors the techniques employed in the film, with analogue synthesisers drawing the listener into nebulous hypnotic tones and delicate movements.
Composed, produced, engineered and performed by Mark Jenkin using synthesiser, guitar, percussion and loops & effects, the environmental recordings remind us of the context in which the music was originally borne, but as the score ebbs and flows between ambient tranquil seas and crashing storms, it affirms its presence as a powerful stand-alone piece of work.
The score’s physical release follows the Cornish director’s third feature film: the time-travelling Rose of Nevada cinematic release in UK and Irish cinemas on 24 April, with a BFI Blu-ray and BFI Player release in the summer.

Never Sleep charity tape series focuses on the North East's Valenican musical obsession with the man who started it all.

Trendsetter DJ Scott commands respect with a blend of Makina, Hardcore and Bounce. A trance laced session filled with the resonating compere styles from MC Stompin, MC Jet and MC Natz.

Bringing the energy, heart on the sleeve lyricism and maximal Mackem love for the late night surreptitiously crew. Lacing the backdrop with rapid fire crossfade technique, jump up tonal flair and high pace anthemic signals. Scott brings authenticity alongside the finest MC's in the land.

MC Stompin shows the naysayers who owns the night, MC Jet streamlines quality on the mic and MC Natz brings his own signature tones to the prestigious event.

Literally bringing the first ever Makina records back from Spain (8 of them) and starting Hangar13, this mix showcases an incredible time for the localised sonica and the rise of a cultural defining era in the North East.

DJ Scott is known for his huge cultural contribution, youth work and working class pioneership. A true UK legend and local hero.

All proceeds go to The Macmillan Cancer Support who help people across the UK and and provides specialist health care.

"Chance animates the smallest parts of the universe: the scintillation of the stars is its power, a wildflower its incantation."
—Georges Bataille, Le Petit

"Even on my way to the gambling hall, as soon as I hear, two rooms away, the clink of the scattered money I almost go into convulsions." —Fyodor Dostoevsky, The Gambler

Video gambling addicts, academic researchers, and industry professionals alike describe the trancelike state into which problem gamblers suspend themselves with remarkable consistency: they unanimously call it the machine “zone,” a kind of inner experience during which the rhythmic flow of human-machine collusion borders on mysticism. Time is abolished in the act of contemporary video gambling —simulated slot reels roll, virtual poker decks deal, and all worldly concerns are lost—leaving only the aura of total zone immersion in its wake. Sometimes characterized as the crack cocaine of gambling, the intensity of the machine zone is a symptom of casino ergonomics: emotionally manipulative fragrance-saturation, mesmerizing lights, subtly controlling walkways and, as captured here, meticulously engineered sonic environments all play a role in evoking the timeless void of the zone.

Although I was not yet aware of the extent to which casinos tailor their environments for maximum comfort (and, correspondingly, profit), I did know as I crossed the threshold of my first casino floor last year that I would be back for more. Hit by a cornucopia of slot machine tones, triggering aleatorically and coalescing into shimmering masses, I was struck by the need to return and record the sounds that so entranced me. It wouldn't prove to be easy—casino security is intense—and due to the clandestine nature of the operation, my recording techniques were by no means sophisticated. Equipped with nothing but an Olympus LS-11 recorder's internal microphone stashed in a sweaty coat pocket, I allowed the lure of the zone to guide me through a series of ambling recording sessions, the best of which are included here.

I learned a lot about casino sonics in the process: game designers, for example, once tuned all their machines to the key of C major in order to optimize harmonic cohesion (strict adherence to the key is no more but C still dominates the game floor); one team of designers, the story goes, even spent a month perfecting a single 'ding' sound on one machine. In the interest of preserving the true ambient sounds of the casino these recordings are untreated, but lost in the sea of chance I did exert some affirmative control by means of meandering intent and my actual playing of the machines. And by participating in the games myself I got a taste of the financially debilitating consequences that accompany the enchantment of video gambling. The cassette in your hands represents my endeavor to bring you the zone experience without the harsh comedown of its unfortunate reality.

—Adrian Rew

Venus Flux is a new four-track EP by Lord Of The Isles on Amsterdam’s Far Blue label. The record opens with Mushroom Talk, a beatless ambient piece built from slow-moving analog tones, inspired by the honesty of altered states. Two live-improvised dub techno tracks, Betuladub and Pedaldub, form the core of the EP, shaped by intuition and in-the-moment connection rather than fixed arrangements. The closing track, Venus Flux, is an electro piece that feels reflective and unresolved.

Forest Drive West returns to Mantis with a double pack of crooked, finely chiseled rhythms and porous, tactile atmospherics. Hovering comfortably between the distinct energies of drum & bass and techno, Joe Baker has helped define the creative upsurge in crossover tempos and tones with a practice that focuses on mood and presence rather than genre tropes. His first releases appeared 10 years ago on influential labels like Livity Sound, Rupture and Hidden Hawaii. He reconvenes on Mantis after delivering the first release for the Delsin series back in 2020. The scope across these eight new tracks is steeped in Baker's trademark restraint and subtlety, but equally he explores a broad scope of energies and tempos. From ambient, spacious downtempo and slow-motion, heavily dubbed drum mantras through to crisp, techy drum funk and dancehall-coded swagger, the range within the distinctive Forest Drive West sound is more versatile than ever. It's a range cemented further by the guest appearances on the album, as Patrick Russell comes on board for snarling, D&B-coded workout 'Uromastyx' and DB1 lends his chops to mesmerising closing breakbeat trip 'Planes'. Exquisite sound design with a mysterious streak binds these various approaches together. With club impact matched by spatial immensity, Mantis 1920 furthers the surefooted, intentional sound Baker has been shaping out as Forest Drive West for the past decade.