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Siavash Amini is a composer from Tehran, Iran. He Has worked with labels like Room40, Hallow Ground, Opal Tapes and Umor Rex for the better half of the past ten years. He has performed at festivals like CTM & MUTEK and many other well known international events. Apart from it Siavash is a co-founder of the “SET experimental art events” and “SETfest” in Tehran, Iran. His work ranges from fragile ambient pieces and brittle IDM (incorporating his distinctive style of atmospheric guitar playing) to noisy drones and bleak modern classical pieces. His compositions have been inspired by films such as Andrei Tarkovsky's The Mirror as well as novels by Dostoyesvky and poems by T.S. Eliot.

Saffronkeira is the Sardinian sound researcher Eugenio Caria being active in the electronic music scene since almost two decades. His most recent work - a cooperation with the Italian jazz trumpet legend Paolo Fresu - earned a lot of praise from the international music press for the pure timelessness of the album.

"Upon hearing a small snippet of sound an image is conjured, not a memory but not unfamiliar. A shell of a memory, thousand events superimposed on each other. While trying to extract points of a narrative to ease the discomfort of this recollection, I try to separate and unfold the image and with it the points of the spectrum which make up the sound, a shell of a narrative. Here is an album based upon an almost entirely imagined/ synthesized happening upon hearing a snippet of sound. It sounded like of a whole story that never happened but yet I felt myself amongst it’s participants, a sound triggering a false memory. Each sound in Eugenio’s collection of sounds and ideas guided me a to a point in the narrative and it’s construction. He had handed me a portals of some kind to a few scenes of the whole narrative. This is the soundtrack for that false memory from all the perspectives I can think of."

West Mineral returns with lushly amorphous actions by Shiner, Pontiac Streator & Ben Bondy aka Shinetiac; together fused for an immersive flux of vapoured dub, chopped and droned Billie Eilish, and fidgety algorithmic jams.

There's not a single, specific sound you can peg to the West Mineral axis at this stage in the label’s evolution - it's rather a set of shared aesthetics that freely bend into various interconnected shapes. Shinetiac's contemptuous, critic-baiting gear is the ideal example; on their last album, 2023's 'Not All Who Wander Are Lost', skittery, ketamized IDM sparkled over Spice Girls samples and the Foo Fighters' 'Everlong' was transmuted into Sneaker Pimps-style trip-hop. 'Infiltrating Roku City' might be a little less blatant with its out-and-out poptimism, but it takes a similarly dim view of conservative "big ambient" snobbishness. Just a few minutes of 'Bluemosa' should be enough to let you know what's up; the overall character of the sound is hazed, with frozen pads and garbled, dubbed-out voices smudged into a mess of effects and samples. But it sups up different nuances as it wriggles, absorbing scampering breaks, dizzy acoustic guitar strums and half-heard wordless vocals, flipping in the third act to emerge from its shell as minimalist balearic folk-pop - something like Bon Iver doing 'Electric Counterpoint'.

Brooklyn's Shiner, Philly's Pontiac Streator and Berlin-based Ben Bondy navigate the labyrinthine streaming landscape, guided by their own private experiences of mindless doom-scrolling and cruising the darkest corners of YouTube. They formulated 'Infiltrating Roku City' while they were rehearsing last year and spent the winter stitching together various recordings and jams into a layered, dry-witted commentary on our algorithmic reality. Laden with inside jokes and refried memes, it's surprisingly elegant gear; handling the most unseemly elements like sonic recyclers, earnestly repurposing pop and nostalgia to create an atmospheric echo of contemporary reality.

Screwing Chief Keef's enduring 'Citgo', 'Clublyfe (hulu)' emphasises the original's AFX-pilled euphoria with Robert Miles-style piano hits, replacing Young Ravisu's brittle 128kbps trap rhythm with a glitchy rattle that picks up dembow spikes as it rolls. 'I Hate Being Sober' vaporises the Chicago drill pioneer's 'Hate Bein' Sober', blocking out his voice with glitchy, downsampled interference and elasticated Rhodes. The trio team up with Orange Milk's goo age on the sublime 'Crisis Angel', catching a ray of Malibu's sunshine in the process, and reduce Billie Eilish's voice to a Romance-does-Celine cinder on 'Billie', stretching it to fit next to gassed Future ad-libs and swooping 808 Mafia sub womps. And although the album takes a murky diversion on 'Roku Axes Ultra’, and a cloud-stepping centrepiece ‘Purelink’ in homage to the eponymous dubbed ambient dynamos, it's back on course with 'Jiafei (NETFLIX)', taking aim at TikTok bot videos and welding screams from Florida metal band Underoath to AI-strength vocal curlicues.

Don Leisure has cemented his name as one of the most forward-thinking and experimental beatmakers & producers within the current musical ecosystem. As well as being 50% of Darkhouse Family (alongside Earl Jeffers) he has collaborated with the likes of Angel Bat Dawid, Gruff Rhys, DJ Spinna and First Word label-mates Amanda Whiting & Tyler Daley (Children of Zeus). Garnering serious support from Lauren Laverne, Tom Ravenscroft, Huw Stephens, Gilles Peterson, Huey Morgan, The Vinyl Factory, Clash, Uncut and many more. Following the release of ‘Cynnau Tân (feat. Carywyn Ellis)’ (which gained support across BBC Radio from Tom Ravenscroft, Zakia & Huw Stephens) Welsh beatmaker Don Leisure announces the release of a new album ‘Tyrchu Sain’) as he returns with a new single ‘Tyrchu’ due for release on 22nd January 2025. ‘Tyrchu’ features the soft-spoken vocal stylings of Gruff Rhys over a gently rolling, tape saturated and expertly chopped instrumental, creating (in Gruff’s own words) ‘Shiny new beat-treasures with ghostly reflections of Welsh pop’s past - skillfully dug from Sain Records’ deepest veins’

A dedicated student of music, over the years, Don has amassed a vast encyclopaedic knowledge of music genres and subcultures, including a fascination with Welsh psychedelic folk music from the mid-20th century. This introduction was made by respected musician, producer & selector Andy Votel’s 2005 two-part compilation series ‘Welsh Rare Beat’ (in collaboration with Gruff Rhys and Don Thomas), comprising twenty-five tracks from Sain Records’ back catalogue. Now the oldest independent record label in Wales, Sain is a wildly influential bastion of home-grown Welsh talent, co-founded by Welsh-language folk singer Dafydd Iwan, whose music has seen a cultural resurgence in recent years with his 1983 song Yma o Hyd (We’re Still Here) becoming a huge anthem for Wales football fans. Set up in the Welsh capital, many of Sain’s early releases were recorded at Rockfield Studios in Monmouthshire, but in the early 1970s the record company moved to the Caernarfon area and opened their first recording studio in 1974 near Llandwrog. Announcing a huge digitisation project throughout 2024, Sain Records took on the mammoth task of painstakingly digitising their entire back catalogue spanning 55 years, working in partnership with the National Library of Wales the resulting archive then be submitted for to the National Library of Wales in Aberystwyth, preserving them for future generations to enjoy. Taking this period of rediscovery as an opportunity to reimagine their impressive inventory, Sain invited Don Leisure to dig into their musical treasure chest, creating a sprawling sonic tapestry from the dusty gems within. On this exhilarating excursion, Sain Records founder Dafydd Iwan explains: ‘Imagine someone gave you access to over 50 years of Welsh popular music – almost all of it unknown to you before. It would be a strange experience of discovery, an unknown territory which could baffle and excite. This happened to Jamal (Don Leisure) – and he was captivated by a world of music he barely knew existed, and when he was asked to distill the experience into one album, he immediately warmed to the idea. And this is the result – a kaleidoscope of sounds to encapsulate a half century of Welsh music. To call it unique would be superfluous: no-one could ever recreate this album. Listen, and enjoy.’.

The resulting product is ‘Tyrchu Sain' (translating to ‘Digging Sain’), a fearless and exploratory album, which sees Don put his signature unparalleled and unpredictable skills to work, weaving together moments of forgotten beauty into celestial and otherworldly compositions. The record features appearances by artists from Wales who have a similar obsession as Don Leisure in these classic Welsh rarities including Gruff Rhys, Carwyn Ellis, Earl Jeffers Amanda Whiting and Boy Azooga. A shimmering patchwork quilt of sound, ‘Tychru Sain’ traverses a shifting landscape of acid folk, eerie vocal melodies and interstellar soundscapes, propelled forth by crisp, head nod-inducing drums and grainy textures. Breathing new life into compositions lost to time, and paving a path for new listeners to discover the magic that lies within.

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

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

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

In 1999, on December 23 to be precise, the electronic music landscape changed forever. On that day, the now legendary Icelandic band múm released their debut album “Yesterday Was Dramatic – Today Is OK”. The thing is though, back in the day, hardly anybody realized. It was Christmas after all, people were busy with potentially more important things and didn’t pay attention to some kids selling records on Reykjavík’s high street. Little did those shoppers know.

Thankfully, those 10 tracks weren’t overlooked for long. On the contrary: the album went on to become one of the most influential building blocks of what back then was called electronica and today is considered an art form playing a crucial and important role in shaping and defining the rich electronic music culture of the 21st century. Now, 20 years after the record dropped onto planet Earth, Morr Music is re-issuing the remastered album with its original artwork, adding newly commissioned re-works: A note-for-note representation of “Smell Memory“ by Kronos Quartet (with additional drums by múm’s Samuli Kosminen), a gentle reinterpretation of “Random Summer” by acclaimed pianist and composer Hauschka and an otherworldly new version of “Ballad Of The Broken String” recorded by label mate Sóley. Additionally, four remixes produced in the early 2000s are made available for the first time ever on vinyl here.

In 1999, electronic music was in full bloom. The dance floors were thriving worldwide.Yet the concept of using electronic sounds in acoustic-based productions (or vice versa) was still in its infancy. Many producers were trying, most of them failed. The results felt often forced, fabricated, unimaginative, random and forgettable. New ideas require new mindsets after all. With “Yesterday Was Dramatic – Today Is OK”, múm established a new approach in music production. Instead of setting a fixed agenda and working with a distinct hierarchy for their sonic palette, Gyða Valtýsdóttir, Kristín Anna Valtýsdóttir, Gunnar Örn Tynes and Örvar Smárason let each instrument and sound source be true to itself, creating an ever-evolving universe of sonic bliss. Listening to the album in 2019 still makes every music lover’s heart jump. Combining Drill-and-Bass-inspired beat-chopping, future-informed DSP-programming, ethereal vocal work, indie rock’s boominess, folk music’s soulful brittleness and a lofty feeling for melody and arrangement, the album is a rare example of musical transcendence and remains impossible to categorize.

Many of the ideas formulated and recorded for the album quickly became an integral part of the canonical self-conception musicians around the world were and still are aspiring to. How these ideas really came about, though, is not known – the dynamics, the struggles, the qualms, the sudden realization of having achieved something which might actually stick. Maybe that is a good thing. Örvar Smárason remembers that most of the album “was recorded in a tiny, sweaty room in the summer of 1999 with carpenters banging nails around us, but sometimes we put on headphones so we couldn’t hear them.” It is a good thing they did. As is often the case with classics, all one can do is listen closely and let the magic sink in – again and again.

For the first time, all the 1978 recording sessions of Lino Capra Vaccina's legendary Antico Adagio - including Frammenti da Antico Adagio and Echi Armonici da Antico Adagio - collected in one definitive deluxe edition. Minimalism, and so much more. Sheets of resonance, stunning harmonic interplay, intricate rhythms rising as one. Sidelong works of pulsing, hypnotic, ritualistic drone built from vibraphones, marimbas, gongs, bells, and cymbals, threaded by the sustained vocal tones of Juri Camisasca and Dana Matus. A trance-inducing, meditative, cosmic world of sonic interplay - the world beyond, joined with that which lays within.

Before an aberrant idea of progress ludicrously sped up our daily lives, even in hectic Milan it was possible to "play slowly" - with no pressure, simply following the path your art was showing you. This music moves between modal fascinations, ritual evocations, and states of hypnotic trance, evoking the acoustic environment of Tibetan and Zen Buddhist ceremonies and the temporal structures of Noh theatre, from which Vaccina took the name of his original label, Nō. Now, fittingly, this complete collection appears on Ubi Kū, the label of the Italian Buddhist Union.

Lino Vaccina (1953) first gained note as a member of Aktuala, creating a hybrid of rock, avant-garde, and ancient musics while incorporating sonic traditions from across the globe. After leaving in 1974, he studied at Milano's Civica Scuola di Musica, collaborating with Franco Battiato and Juri Camisasca, and forming Telaio Magnetico in 1975. In 1978 he self-released Antico Adagio in a tiny edition and wouldn't be heard from again until 1992. From 1979 to 1985 he was percussionist with the Orchestra of Teatro alla Scala under maestros such as Abbado and Ozawa. His career has been marked by an incredibly high bar of quality and a tragically slim recorded output - a rigorous and sensual language fusing Oriental, Mediterranean, and African influences with ritual elements and a cosmic sense of time.

As Massimo Torrigiani writes: "Lino Vaccina's music captivates through its internal coherence and its ability to generate states of suspension and deep listening - through undulations, small melodic fragments, dialogues between acoustic instruments and resonances that seem to evoke a phantom orchestra. An example of personal exploration, discipline and openness that speaks across time to anyone willing to be drawn into its sound."

Frammenti da Antico Adagio and Echi Armonici da Antico Adagio contain material from the original sessions, restored and issued by Die Schachtel in 2014 and 2017. The new masters, prepared by Giuseppe Ielasi, are based on those restorations and the original material. The package includes previously unpublished photographs from the May 1978 sessions and liner notes by Mauro Radice in Italian, English, and French. Cover art by Dana Matus. Printed by Legno, Milano & Mother Tongue, Verona.

Personnel: Lino Capra Vaccina (vibraphone, marimba, tablas, wooden drums, darbuka, cymbals, gong, metal sheets, bells, bass drum, tom, snare drum, piano, voice), Dana Matus (voice, percussion, cetra), Juri Camisasca (voice), Mario Garuti (violin), Roberto Mazza (oboe). Original production by Massimo Villa & Lino Vaccina with Piero Cannizzaro. Recorded May 1978 at Circle Studios, Milano.

The heights of the Italian avant-garde, at their very best.

As the fifth chapter in the band's discography, " The Neonai" arrived at a critical juncture in Lake of Tears' career, marking both an end and a reluctant new beginning. Released in 2002, three years after the melancholic masterpiece Forever Autumn, the album came to life under less-than-ideal circumstances.

Despite the commercial and critical success of its predecessor (the band's best- selling album to date) Lake of Tears found themselves adrift, unsupported by their label at a time when the world expected them to rise higher than ever. Instead of world tours and deserved recognition, the band withdrew, disillusioned, and made the difficult decision to put all activities on hold. But one last obligation remained: to deliver a final album to Black Mark Productions. What could have been a soulless, contract- bound release turned out to be anything but. "The Neonai" pulses with haunting melodies, infectious refrains, and a deeper embrace of keyboards and electronic textures, without ever losing the emotional gravity and sorrowful beauty that define Lake of Tears.

If this album was truly written "in haste," then let us hope Daniel Brennare continues to compose under pressure, for rarely has urgency sounded so inspired. As with the previous vinyl releases, we do not single out any specific tracks. Each song, like every Lake of Tears album, carries its own unique charm, its own shade of shadow and light. "The Neonai" is not simply a continuation, it is a transformation, an echo from a band caught between endings and new beginnings. Another gem in the band's catalogue, a masterpiece where the doom/ gothic equation tilts gracefully in favor of the latter. A deeply cherished album, long adored by Lake of Tears' devoted followers, who have waited patiently for 23 years to finally see it released on vinyl. After all, every ending is but the beginning of something new. And as we've said before: The end for Lake of Tears has not yet come, and we truly hope it won't come for a long, long time.

As the fifth chapter in the band's discography, " The Neonai" arrived at a critical juncture in Lake of Tears' career, marking both an end and a reluctant new beginning. Released in 2002, three years after the melancholic masterpiece Forever Autumn, the album came to life under less-than-ideal circumstances.

Despite the commercial and critical success of its predecessor (the band's best- selling album to date) Lake of Tears found themselves adrift, unsupported by their label at a time when the world expected them to rise higher than ever. Instead of world tours and deserved recognition, the band withdrew, disillusioned, and made the difficult decision to put all activities on hold. But one last obligation remained: to deliver a final album to Black Mark Productions. What could have been a soulless, contract- bound release turned out to be anything but. "The Neonai" pulses with haunting melodies, infectious refrains, and a deeper embrace of keyboards and electronic textures, without ever losing the emotional gravity and sorrowful beauty that define Lake of Tears.

If this album was truly written "in haste," then let us hope Daniel Brennare continues to compose under pressure, for rarely has urgency sounded so inspired. As with the previous vinyl releases, we do not single out any specific tracks. Each song, like every Lake of Tears album, carries its own unique charm, its own shade of shadow and light. "The Neonai" is not simply a continuation, it is a transformation, an echo from a band caught between endings and new beginnings. Another gem in the band's catalogue, a masterpiece where the doom/ gothic equation tilts gracefully in favor of the latter. A deeply cherished album, long adored by Lake of Tears' devoted followers, who have waited patiently for 23 years to finally see it released on vinyl. After all, every ending is but the beginning of something new. And as we've said before: The end for Lake of Tears has not yet come, and we truly hope it won't come for a long, long time.

As the fifth chapter in the band's discography, " The Neonai" arrived at a critical juncture in Lake of Tears' career, marking both an end and a reluctant new beginning. Released in 2002, three years after the melancholic masterpiece Forever Autumn, the album came to life under less-than-ideal circumstances.

Despite the commercial and critical success of its predecessor (the band's best- selling album to date) Lake of Tears found themselves adrift, unsupported by their label at a time when the world expected them to rise higher than ever. Instead of world tours and deserved recognition, the band withdrew, disillusioned, and made the difficult decision to put all activities on hold. But one last obligation remained: to deliver a final album to Black Mark Productions. What could have been a soulless, contract- bound release turned out to be anything but. "The Neonai" pulses with haunting melodies, infectious refrains, and a deeper embrace of keyboards and electronic textures, without ever losing the emotional gravity and sorrowful beauty that define Lake of Tears.

If this album was truly written "in haste," then let us hope Daniel Brennare continues to compose under pressure, for rarely has urgency sounded so inspired. As with the previous vinyl releases, we do not single out any specific tracks. Each song, like every Lake of Tears album, carries its own unique charm, its own shade of shadow and light. "The Neonai" is not simply a continuation, it is a transformation, an echo from a band caught between endings and new beginnings. Another gem in the band's catalogue, a masterpiece where the doom/ gothic equation tilts gracefully in favor of the latter. A deeply cherished album, long adored by Lake of Tears' devoted followers, who have waited patiently for 23 years to finally see it released on vinyl. After all, every ending is but the beginning of something new. And as we've said before: The end for Lake of Tears has not yet come, and we truly hope it won't come for a long, long time.

As the fifth chapter in the band's discography, " The Neonai" arrived at a critical juncture in Lake of Tears' career, marking both an end and a reluctant new beginning. Released in 2002, three years after the melancholic masterpiece Forever Autumn, the album came to life under less-than-ideal circumstances.

Despite the commercial and critical success of its predecessor (the band's best- selling album to date) Lake of Tears found themselves adrift, unsupported by their label at a time when the world expected them to rise higher than ever. Instead of world tours and deserved recognition, the band withdrew, disillusioned, and made the difficult decision to put all activities on hold. But one last obligation remained: to deliver a final album to Black Mark Productions. What could have been a soulless, contract- bound release turned out to be anything but. "The Neonai" pulses with haunting melodies, infectious refrains, and a deeper embrace of keyboards and electronic textures, without ever losing the emotional gravity and sorrowful beauty that define Lake of Tears.

If this album was truly written "in haste," then let us hope Daniel Brennare continues to compose under pressure, for rarely has urgency sounded so inspired. As with the previous vinyl releases, we do not single out any specific tracks. Each song, like every Lake of Tears album, carries its own unique charm, its own shade of shadow and light. "The Neonai" is not simply a continuation, it is a transformation, an echo from a band caught between endings and new beginnings. Another gem in the band's catalogue, a masterpiece where the doom/ gothic equation tilts gracefully in favor of the latter. A deeply cherished album, long adored by Lake of Tears' devoted followers, who have waited patiently for 23 years to finally see it released on vinyl. After all, every ending is but the beginning of something new. And as we've said before: The end for Lake of Tears has not yet come, and we truly hope it won't come for a long, long time.

2026 Repress

Since its inception in 2016, Cornucopia has been a musical project synonymous with creativity and depth. The name itself, rooted in ancient mythology, symbolizes abundance and prosperity. Today, it evokes the same spirit- a metaphorical horn overflowing with ideas and innovation. This ethos emerges in the latest release, the fifth offering from the new label run by Guy J.

The music is a testament to artistic richness and a celebration of sonic exploration.
The release opens with Remember Me, a mellow yet groove-infused track tailor-made for sunset moments by the sea. Built on hypnotic layers, it evolves into an atmospheric journey that blends joy, subtle ecstasy, and vibrant energy. In an age of musical hyperproduction, Remember Me is a reason alone to celebrate Cornucopia's return. Yet,it is only the beginning; the unexpected euphoria unfolds as the release progresses.

Seasoned partygoers often categorize tracks by their vibe-some are designed for the night, while others are for the early hours. The title track, Early Morning, is an ode to the latter, crafted to accompany the most dedicated dancers as they greet the dawn. Driven by uplifting arpeggios, the track radiates unfiltered positivity, eliciting smiles and a deep connection among those on the dance floor. Already road-tested in DJ sets, this euphoric anthem has been hailed as a secret weapon of underground music, delivering pure joy with every beat.

Released by the Early Morning label, it is a fitting finale to this remarkable collection. With its undeniable potential to become a future classic, Cornucopia's latest offering is an experience that lingers long after the final note.

Belia Winnewisser and Fatuma Osman have known each other since childhood, a friendship rooted in shared afternoons of music and late 90s/early 00s girl core. Their first joint debut EP Vertex, released through the Swiss label Light of Other Days, emerges as both a continuation of that bond and an exploration of process, weaving together collective memories with their present-day musical language.

Resisting polished closure, the record circles around the idea of limerence in sound: suggesting rather than declaring, outlining atmospheres that leave room for the listener’s imagination to fill out the blanks. Across its five tracks Belia and Fatuma oscillate between the personal and the universal, immediacy and nostalgia. The opening track Emerald rises like morning light; fragile, blissful, and quietly radiant. Covering Madonna’s 80s single Angel feels natural and slots seamlessly into the EP’s arc: as a defining pop presence of the last four decades, she embodies less an idol than a subtle compass. Surrender, the first track on the B-side, draws you into the club, vibrating between vulnerability and release. Each step extends their vision further, revealing a cohesive body of work.

Vertex holds opposite poles in tension, creating a space where vulnerability and intensity create dialog. What lingers is a realm of possibilities: a conversation between two friends and collaborators who understand that sound can be as much about what is left out as about what is expressed. Vertex documents their progression, marking a milestone without concluding it.

The label ORED Recordings was founded in 2013 by Circassian friends and fellow musicians Bulat Khalilov and Timur Kodzoko, in order to start an activity which is dedicated to documenting and preserving the traditional and post-traditional music of the North Caucasus. Khalilov and Kodzoko, were just as excited about this music as it sounded like a force that transcends borders and in which time dissolves and community becomes the only compass.

Through hundreds of field recordings, which have been made at communal gatherings, local festivities or family meetings, the label has captured a wide range of individual voices and their unique acoustic manifestations. All recordings on this album capture the raw expressiveness of the mountainside villages. Music performances being played by people who dedicate their love to music and an additional willingness to share intimate emotions.

Whereas most academic ethnomusicologists travel around the world in order to study foreign cultures, Bulat Khalilov and Timur Kodzoko were fascinated by what they just heard in the familiar regions of their then home town Nalchik. In resolute contrast to Russian academic circles, they soon developed a DIY Punk ethos for their far reaching work, beginning to formulate their own language in the field of ethnomusicology and to push the traditions forward.

However, the label’s work goes far beyond mere preservation. »We started traveling around the North Caucasus and did recordings with people from many different ethnic groups. In the North Caucasus, our work had a political dimension because there used to be (and still are) a lot of conflicts between different ethnic groups. We quickly understood that our work is not just about music and art,« states Bulat Khalilov.

The work of the label aims to reflect not only the great music of the Caucasus and its various communities but also to tell the stories behind it. They are stories of struggle, of independence, of working with historical memory in the present times of the 21st century.

Since Bulat Khalilov and Timur Kodzoko are now based at the University of Göttingen, we were able to meet each other many times and to eventually exchange ideas which resulted in the release of this collection of recordings. The compilation »Music from the Caucasus« provides a first introduction to the comprehensive work of ORED Recordings. For this collaborative release on TAL the recordings are being made accessible for the first time ever on vinyl, CD and various digital formats, all coming with extensive liner notes and yet unpublished photographs.

Bulat Khalilov and Stefan Schneider, November 2025

Here, Flavien departs from his usual creative process to embrace collaboration—because plouf! (Léviathan) is also the story of a dive, his first collective adventure with musicians he had always dreamed of working with: Michelle Blades (guitar), Kiala Ogawa (keys), Akemi Fujimori (bass), Cédric Laban (drums), and Thibaud Merle (winds).



Reworking these songs is a way of revisiting forgotten musical landscapes, shedding new light on them with a different perspective. It’s about transforming a solitary electronic record into a collective piece by exploring new textures and instrumental approaches.



With this album, Flavien Berger uses his early tracks as raw material—as if the 2015 Léviathan were now a kind of demo from which to extract the essence and create something entirely new. The project, like the music that drives it, is rooted in the idea of reinvention.



The result is a fresh sonic exploration where Léviathan’s tracks take on new forms—some staying true to their original versions, others completely reimagined, blending past and present.

Recollection V-VI marks the third in a planned series of 7” releases, each built from Glonti’s expanding archive of Soviet-era recordings. The artwork by Dmytro Nikolaienko (Day Night) once again reflects the utilitarian aesthetic of Soviet-era record design.

In 2018, Glonti started collecting LPs of Soviet-era Georgian composers at Tbilisi’s “Dry Bridge” flea market.The records mostly consisted of classical and chamber music released on Melodiya, the singular, state owned record label of the USSR. It was through this process that the idea of Recollection was born, as Glonti aimed to create an album that would utilize samples from his growing collection.

Everyone knows the story of American disco.
But few are aware that, between the late 1960s and the late 1980s, Italy wrote a parallel one — spontaneous, surprising, and incredibly creative.

It is a story that spans two distinct seasons: the Italian disco of the 1970s — melodic, handmade, sometimes naïve yet always original — and the emerging Italo Disco of the 1980s, electronic, futuristic, and lightheartedly projected toward the future.
Two different languages, yet both driven by the same desire for freedom and modernity. Discoteca Sound — Italian Discoteca Underground 1975–1986 brings together 18 rare tracks — including two previously unreleased — that tell this story of transition: from the orchestral and sentimental disco of Italian dance halls to the synthetic and visionary sound of the first drum machines.
A journey through private archives, local labels, regional studios, and forgotten voices — the sonic map of a country that has always danced, but to its own rhythm. From Mediterranean disco to the first Italo Disco, from the dim lights of provincial dance halls to the early home synthesizers, each track opens a window onto an Italy that dreamed of the dance floor as a universal language of connection during the brief season of revolutionary utopias.

This compilation celebrates ten years of work by Disco Segreta — a decade dedicated to the research, recovery, and appreciation of Italian disco and electronic culture. An act of justice owed to all those artists who had their moment yet were never remembered by history — bringing back to light an essential, still too little known part of our musical heritage.
Because dancing today remains, more than ever, a living act of memory.

Limited edition 2LP, features 2 previously unreleased tracks and a new 2025 version of Coscarella & Polimeno – Station to Station.






f Grazia Vitale – Poi (1975) Previously Unreleased










q Daniel Sentacruz Ensemble – Vivo Solo Con Te (1982) Previously Unreleased






f Grazia Vitale – Poi (1975) Previously Unreleased










q Daniel Sentacruz Ensemble – Vivo Solo Con Te (1982) Previously Unreleased






f B2. Grazia Vitale – Poi (1975) Previously Unreleased










q D4. Daniel Sentacruz Ensemble – Vivo Solo Con Te (1982) [Previously Unreleased]






[f] B2. Grazia Vitale – Poi (1975) [Previously Unreleased]










[q] D4. Daniel Sentacruz Ensemble – Vivo Solo Con Te (1982) [Previously Unreleased]






[f] B2. Grazia Vitale – Poi (1975) [Previously Unreleased]










[q] D4. Daniel Sentacruz Ensemble – Vivo Solo Con Te (1982) [Previously Unreleased]

blickwinkel warmly welcomes Brussels-based composer Roxane Métayer to the label with her new album »Vies Sylvestres«, out on November 21 on vinyl and digital formats. The album was conceived and developed during performances and travels in Japan in 2023, where its sounds and ideas gradually came together.

»Vies Sylvestres« continues the direction of her previous release on Kraak, where Métayer built imagined narratives unfolding in forests or urban spaces inhabited by animal and plant characters. On this new album, however, the presence of these elements becomes more explicit and central. Field recordings are not solely used as backdrops but become compositions, complementing the instrumental works and expanding the album’s narrative into the realm of lived sound and place.

The listener encounters recordings of crickets and birds but we're also witnessing a scenery at a Buddhist temple. As such, combined with violin, electronics, and voice, Métayer explores the relationship between the natural environment and human culture. Her work bridges both worlds, showing how sound can connect different spaces and contexts.

The notion of home isn’t precise, even a dictionary will offer multiple definitions. A home can be a place where you live, a place where you belong, where you originate from or a place where you’re given care; it can be a physical space, a land, a people or even a person. The concept isn’t completely universal, but everyone possesses a unique idea of what home means to them. On her fifth album, Ziúr considers not just what home symbolizes from her perspective, but the word’s resonance to the diverse community that surrounds her, and how their stories have impacted her over the years. Indeed, it’s the first time she’s felt it necessary to examine her own nationality. In the past, she’s deliberately avoided labelling herself as German, feeling disconnected from her country’s politics, culture and even the German language itself. In 2025, the idea of Germanness is in flux and progressives are under attack from all sides. The country’s politics aren’t only being turned inward by the growing throng of far-right voices, but by scared moderates, opportunists and those blinded by comfort, willing to ignore hatred to maintain their privilege. Stepping up to provide a different narrative, Ziúr scours her soul, writing and singing in German for the first time and proposing growth and evolution, not fear and regression. “I never considered being part of Germany,” she explains. “But I am.”

A solemn mood permeates the album’s opening track ‘Brown is the Color’, and Ziúr sings in measured, slow-motion breaths over noisy synth oscillations and doomed piano flourishes. Already, it’s a significant departure from her last run of releases, veering away from the frenetic, satirical chaos of 2023’s Hakuna Kulala-released ‘Eyeroll’ or its fantastical, dubby predecessor ‘Antifate’. Ziúr pulls on real world insights here, tracing her oldest, dearest musical inspirations to present her origins to anybody who might be listening. “Cold world is holding up,” she laments with a metallic crunch. “To let go of your heart, let me go.” And her voice emerges from the shadows completely on ‘Tame’; unprocessed, Ziúr sounds naked and vulnerable on ‘Tame’, curving her precise words around broken, lopsided rhythms and jangling new wave guitars. It’s pop music in its own way, inverted and reconstructed to fit snugly into her well-established sonic landscape. On ‘No Yawn’, brittle, downsampled hi-hats and industrial scrapes ping-pong around distorted riffs, provided by James Ó Ceallaigh aka WIFE; “You fail to sugarcoat your half-ass attempt,” she deadpans, “to build your promised wonderland on quicksand.” Even the beatless ‘All Odds No Chants’, a collaboration with Elvin Brandhi and Sara Persico, reveals another room in Ziúr’s autobiographical suite, mirroring György Ligeti’s enduringly influential choral works with its gnarled, dissonant vocal harmonies.