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2026 Repress

What an unbelievable record. From the wild cover to the iconic breakbeats, Roots from Ian Carr’s Nucleus is one of the dopest albums we know. This is seriously thick, funky-prog jazz-rock heaven. Originally released on Vertigo in 1973, other than a couple of versions at the time for other territories, Roots was never re-pressed since so it’s gone on to become another one of those impossible to find records.

Maybe it was a little too out there for the time, but it’s aged very, very well indeed and this Be With re-issue, re-mastered from the original analogue tapes, shows off just why this deserves to be back in press.

Genius trumpeter and visionary composer Ian Carr was one of the most respected British musicians of his era. He was a true pioneer and saw the potential in fusing the worlds of jazz with rock, just as Miles Davis and The Tony Williams Lifetime did in the US. In late 1969, following the demise of the Rendell-Carr quintet, and tiring of British jazz, Carr assembled the legendary Nucleus. Regarding music as a continuous process, Nucleus refused to “recognise rigid boundaries” and worked on delivering what they saw as a “total musical experience”. We can get behind that.

Under bandleader Carr, Nucleus existed as a fluid line-up of inventive, skilled musicians. This constant evolution and revolution was all part of the continuous musical exploration and discovery that took jazz to new levels.

Working together with producer Fritz Fryer and engineer Roger Wake, the seven compositions by Carr, Brian Smith and Dave MacRae that make up Roots flirt with perfection, and Nucleus at that time made up of the cream of 1970s UK jazz with Brian Smith on tenor saxophones and flutes, Dave MacRae on piano and electric piano, Jocelyn Pitchen on guitar, Roger Sutton on bass, both Clive Thacker and Aureo De Souza on drums and percussion, Joy Yates delivering the vocals and of course Carr on trumpet.

The spellbinding title track immediately renders the album indispensable. Riding the illest of loping breakbeats, “Roots” is low-slung, doped-out heist-funk. An absolute monster. If it sounds familiar then that’s likely down to it being sampled by Madlib for Lootpack and Quasimoto’s “Loop Digga”, as well as by a whole host of beat manipulators. “Roots” conjures prime instrumental hip-hop / beat music, only 20 years ahead of its time. Truly, these are the roots. Through sinuous bass, twinkling keys and a hypnotic guitar riff, a smoky brass motif weaves its way into a gloriously deep haze around Carr’s solos. “Roots” is over 9 minutes long, but there’s not a single wasted second, not surprising given that this is a condensed version of an originally 40 minute long commissioned composition.

The soothing vocal fusion delight of “Images” follows. Meticulously constructed, with gorgeous flute work from Brian Smith, with Joy Yates’ silky vocals and Dave MacRae’s Rhodes never sounding better. The cool, driving “Caliban” closes out the first side. Originally the third movement in a four part commission to celebrate Shakespeare’s birthday it stands up on its own, all robust rhythms and blended brass. Keyboard colour and Carr’s trumpet are splashed across the funk drums and basslines (and there’s even some bamboo flute). This really is fusion: the elements of jazz and rock coming together in beautifully synthesis.

Side two opens in riotous fashion with the short, thrilling samba of “Wapatiti”. Next up, “Capricorn” forms a smoothed-out, jazzy constellation. Mellow and dreamy, its twinkling percussion and languid horns slowly build the vibe before head-nod drums and a killer bassline enter the fray. With a distinct heaviness that Black Sabbath would’ve envied, “Odokamona” is a venomous slice of riff-soaked jazz metal (yes, you read that right), elevated by Carr’s wah-wah horns.

The album closes with MacRae’s exceptionally cosmic “Southern Roots and Celebration”. Very much in conversation with Weather Report, it opens as a languorous, spiritual jazz of chiming keys and serene guitar that turns slowly, gorgeously into a mid-paced, brass-laced banger. It’s another sure-fire party starter and the sound of the band having a righteous blast, building an ecstatic chaos that ends with Yates screaming.

And of course we need to talk about Keith Davis’ cover for Roots. Perhaps the coolest record cover of all time? Certainly one of the most bonkers. Just your run-of-the-mill high-gloss, acid-tinged airbrush dystopian/utopian living-room party scene. Consider this your chemical flashback trigger warning.

Front-and-centre the hip-to-death green robot holds court with their giant ball of yellow barbwire wool, hooked up to… something(?) being teased out from under the stairs (probably best not to ask). A thoroughly zoned-out, long-legged Pop Art party-goer lounges half-plugged in to the painting behind her as a pair of legs flail into shot from the the top of the stairs opposite. We won’t even begin to guess what the chap’s up to in the middle, but the view out of the windows is rather nice, and someone’s already got the hoover out ready to tidy up. All of the Nucleus sleeves are something special, but this particular one? Crikey.

This Be With edition of Roots has been re-mastered from the original Vertigo master tapes, Simon Francis’ mastering working together with Pete Norman’s cut to weave their usual magic with these wonderful recordings. The crazy cover has been restored at Be With HQ as the finishing touch to this long overdue re-issue.

Balvanera is the project of Agustina Vizcarra and Lucas Palavecino from Buenos Aires, Argentina.

Since 2016, the duo has been building a sonic narrative that moves between the corporeal and the spectral, exploring waves and minimal synth as well as more intense and rhythmic directions closer to Body music, all while sharing the stage with artists such as Clan of Xymox, Boy Harsher, Die Selektion, Kontravoid, NNHMN and Ashcode.

New album Hasta tocar el fondo vacío del lenguaje arrives as an attempt to push expression to the limit, focused on language and sound as expressive forms.
With all tracks sung in Spanish, the album is a declaration of identity and at the same time an exercise with Spanish itself: how to play with a language that sometimes feels baroque and turn it into something stark while retaining its richness. Musically direct, the album occasionally returns to some minimalism reminiscent of the band’s early releases while preserving the intensity and club-oriented feel of their later work. At times intensifying in speed, the record brings the energy of their live performances to visibility, while other tracks feel like an unsettlingly dreamlike atmosphere. The title – meaning Until Touching the Empty Bottom of Language – borrowed from a fragment of Arturo Carrera’s poem Escrito con un nictógrafo, offers a clue to Balvanera’s nocturnal sensibility: those thoughts and images that can only emerge in the sleepless hours of the night, when they reach their most revealing edge.

Hasta tocar el fondo vacío del lenguajen explores death as something hidden within language while allowing each track to find its own form rather than adhering to genre conventions.

Split released with DKA. Out October 1st, 2026 on aquamarine vinyl LP limited to 500 with lyrics insert.

Annie Bloch’s luvt is a quiet reorientation of the organ: away from its monumental image and ritualised spaces, towards the delicate mechanics of touch, air and friction. Across seven compositions marking her debut on OOH-sounds, the Cologne based organist and composer turns to the chest organ, a small and mobile counterpart to its larger relative, traditionally used to accompany Baroque music. On luvt, Bloch limits herself to just three stops of wooden pipes, using the instrument’s sensitive keyboard, mechanical subtle effects to crystalline sound world shaped by meditative strategies and fanciful detailing. Bloch’s approach sits at the crossroads of modern composition, new psychedelia, ambient and minimalist traditions, with occasional traces of an avant pop sensibility, while keeping the unique sound and physical character of the chest organ at its core.

The title luvt derives from the German luven, “to turn to the wind” and Luft, “air”, a gesture Bloch extends beyond the mechanics of the chest organ towards what cannot quite be grasped or put into words. Bloch follows the organ into quieter, more intimate territory, letting its monumental potential fade into the background while exploring the sensual its sound. luvt is a gentle and immersive meditation on the sound of the chest organ, revealing the instrument’s contemporary relevance while pushing its expressive possibilities into new territory.

Annie Bloch (*1994) is an organist, composer and songwriter based in Cologne, Germany. As an organist she performs solo and in alternating constellations with an improvisational and situational approach. The reality that every pipe organ as well as the space it speaks in is unique, is something she not only adapts to, but actively works with. The resulting composed improvisations explore states of change. Her pieces focus on the in-between-spaces, that are already leaning towards the next event. Searching for the ambivalences in a sound and lingering on them, her music resists singular truths. The musical material she draws from is informed by her engagement with the experimental music scene, but also by compositional styles of pop and ambient music. She has performed at Huddersfield Contemporary Music Festival, Orgelpark Amsterdam, Philharmonie Köln, Moers Festival and others. As an indie-folk artist Annie Bloch released the album „I DEPEND“ (Papercup Records) with a chamber orchestral band, that she regularly performs with.

Originally released in 2000 on Smalltown Supersound, Kim Hiorthøy’s first record Hei captures an artist who had made very little music before – yet it seemingly was the starting point of a musical career that would stay away from easy categorisation. Now, Hei (2026 Remaster) returns on blickwinkel, released digitally and on vinyl on 30 October 2026, as part of an ongoing series revisiting and reissuing Hiorthøy’s work.

Made in Copenhagen with little equipment — an Akai MPC2000, a stereo microphone and a DAT machine — Hei was assembled from samples, sequences and rhythms, with no outboard mixing or processing. Without really knowing what he was doing, the music was created intuitively while drawing inspiration from instrumental hip-hop he was listening to, the techno and drum & bass he admired but did not yet know how to make, and a broader fascination with music that felt personal, homemade and slightly uncertain of its own identity. Hei sits somewhere between those impulses. It is beat-driven without belonging entirely to beat music, experimental without announcing itself as such, but unmistakably coming from a playful series of events and decisions.

In that regard, the title of the closing track might be a fitting description of the album itself and, in hindsight, also of how we can look at Hiorthøy’s subsequent work. Taken from a story by Tove Jansson, the title evokes a state of openness and curiosity, a state where thoughts and impressions are simply given the space to unfold:

“He didn't care to get up, all day he let new images and ideas come and go as they pleased, now and then slept a little and woke up again and had no idea who he was. It was a peaceful and very exciting day.”

There is something of Hei in that state of mind: a willingness to follow an idea without knowing exactly where it might lead, a willingness to follow guts and the heart rather than ratio. Perhaps that is also what makes Hei still feel relevant today. As Hiorthøy puts it when reflecting on the music he made then and the music he makes now: “If I compare the music on Hei to music I’m making now, the general sentiment or smell or air or tree or pull of what I’m looking for and listening after when I work is, I think, for better or worse, more or less the same.”

All music by Kim Hiortøy
Mastered by Stephan Mathieu
Portraits by Kim Hiorthøy
Design by Jelle Martens

“Cue Blue”, the latest and fifth studio recording from Australian down under, gritty jazzfunk grooves ensemble Kerbside Collection sees a return to a more classic, stripped back, meat-and-potatoes, home-cooked, quartet formation sound of guitar, bass, drums and brass.


A sound formed on previous, recent recordings (incl. Golden Rules compilation tune “Fleet Streak” etc), seemingly harking back to the approach of the group’s first recordings (2013’s “Mind The Curb”, “Night in Tunisia” etc), whilst embodying inspirations from more ‘true school’, classic, bluesy New Orleans funk and soul groove flavours à la early Meters, Boogaloo Joe Jones, Melvin Sparks, Billy Butler etc. But it’s not all completely ‘retro’ and ‘looking back’, the album definitely taps into some of the current exponents and leaders of the contemporary deep funk sound – The Greyboy Allstars, Eddie Roberts, The New Mastersounds, The Mighty Mocambos, Breakestra and fellow Aussie funksters Cookin’ on 3 Burners, Lance Ferguson and The Bamboos etc.


The lead single and first tune “Shivers” gives us a clear, picture and definitive opening statement to the record with all the characteristics you’ve come to expect from the Kerbside gritty jazzfunk sound: silky guitar line phrasing, rubbery bass-lines, tight crusty drum breaks, and sweet brass arrangements. Then it’s straight into a frenetic, jangly, mod-funk workout complete with Northern Soul & Motown inflections in the surging B sections. “City Park Avenue” conjures up classic New Orleans funk flavours with its strutting brass, slinky guitar and swinging tambourine groove. There’s classic, b-boy funk territory covered in “Coffee Grinder” (a breakdance move) with its razor-sharp drum break groove and chunky riff complete with sizzling trombone solo. Before the pace of the record changes up with the finger-clicken’, hand-clappin’ boogaloo, reminiscent of early 60s Harlem x Puerto Rican Bronx sounds (à la Willie Bobo, Mongo Santamaria, Ray Barretto) loaded with a scintillating baritone sax solo from long standing part of the collection ‘Papa Joe’ Roberts.


“Sittin’ On The Porch” cools the temperature down even more, delving into slight Southern Louisiana Delta blues territory, while suggesting some of the hot and muggy atmosphere and imagery of their home town location in suburban Brisbane Australia, complete with kooky Casio percussion representing familiar yard sounds such as sprinklers (spinning lawn watering devices) and ‘mozzies’ (mosquitos), passing cars indicated by trombone, and guitarist TC Tyler, channelling some bluesy John Lee Hooker, R.L. Burnside guitar flavours - you can almost feel the humidity on your skin.


Then it’s time for a stroll down memory lane, with their version of a People Under The Stairs hip hop classic “San Francisco Knights”, bringing the tune full circle back into band mode, also with another tasty guitar solo. The album then enters its final stages with a mesmerising, soulful, jazz ballad “Shimmer”, complete with Elliott Parker’s sultry upright double bass, and trombone taking the melody for a gentle stroll down the street. The album finally closes and arrives at its title “Cue Blue”, a classic blue-eyed soul number (penned by bassist Parker), emitting the scent of true school, vintage R&B and soul (à la Donny Hathaway, Marvin Gaye).


An album of funky arrangements and refined compositions, mostly penned by recent new-ish member, guitarist Tyler (for fans of Tower of Power & John Scofield guitar playing) taking the ensemble through their paces with all the usual characteristics of the Kerbside sound, on top a groove that will take you round-the-block-and-back :P Gritty jazzfunk and rustic soul grooves with definite bluesy overtones, some classic 60s, 70s flourishes and down-home funk flavours.

Music from Tokyo / New York serves as the 2024 sequel to his previous release, Music for Joshua Tree. This conceptual album is divided into Side A (Tokyo) and Side B (New York), utilizing field recordings captured in each location. The ceramic images featured on LP jacket is the work of Namiko Ishikawa (NamipotNYC).

On this record, he incorporates Ambient, Downtempo, Trip-hop, and Dub—bringing to life the specific sounds currently resonating in his mind and his original roots.

Since the pandemic, he has been traveling and capturing "environmental sounds" through field recordings, which served as the primary inspiration for this record. Side A features tracks inspired by the atmosphere of Tokyo, including recordings from streets, parks near his home in Japan. Side B explores New York, incorporating the sounds of Brooklyn and Manhattan, as well as the chirping of insects recorded in the New York mountains.

While the album remains centered on analog synthesizers and vinyl samples, he has introduced analog drum machines and glitch noise to craft the groove. Unlike his previous work, this release brings prominent bass lines and added more Dub elements to the forefront. His primary focus for this project was expressing a sense of "space" and "air" through the meticulous use of reverb and delay.

Throughout the album, he invites the listener to imagine the unique "local atmosphere" he experienced during his travels.

Australian psychedelic rock band Druid Fluids return with Pareidolia, an ambitious second album exploring perception, superstition and the human instinct to find meaning in patterns, whether real or imagined.

Written and recorded in Adelaide at songwriter and producer Jamie Andrew’s home studio, Pareidolia unfolds across ten expansive and immersive tracks that push the possibilities of psychedelic music. Released by Australia's Third Eye Stimuli Records, the album arrives as a 2LP vinyl exclusive that includes a D-Side with bonus tracks taken from the recording sessions.

Psych-rock and melodic pop collide with krautrock rhythms, cinematic dreamscapes, classically inspired arrangements and experimental production. No two songs inhabit quite the same world, and the album never lingers in one room for long.

Influenced by the inventive songwriting of The Beatles, The Beach Boys and Frank Zappa, the atmospheric sophistication of AIR and contemporary psychedelia from Tame Impala, King Gizzard and Melody’s Echo Chamber, Druid Fluids balance vintage warmth with a distinctly modern sense of possibility.

Pareidolia is hypnotic, intimate and surreal. Melodies twist and reform, rhythms circle back upon themselves and subtle motifs appear like half-recognised symbols. Its labyrinthine passages and dream-logic imagery invite listeners into an immersive space where clarity and confusion remain in constant negotiation.

Pareidolia follows the band’s acclaimed 2023 debut, Then, Now, Again & Again, whose first vinyl pressing sold out worldwide. Since then, Druid Fluids have toured Europe and shared stages with The Brian Jonestown Massacre, Wolfmother, Psychedelic Porn Crumpets, The Murlocs and Amyl and the Sniffers.

Immersive, melodic and wonderfully unpredictable, Pareidolia is a psychedelic masterpiece that rewards repeat listening, revealing new details and hidden connections with every spin.

Originally created in 1987 as an image album for a luxury Sanyo air-conditioner, Get at the Wave stands as one of the most surprising and enduring works of Japanese ambient music. Recorded using synthesizers and natural field recordings, the album was designed to transport listeners far from the heat and noise of urban life — into open water, gentle wind, and unhurried space. Takashi Kokubo's mastery as an acoustic environment designer is present in every texture, blending electronic composition with an almost physical sense of atmosphere and place. Intimate, expansive, and quietly radical, Get at the Wave is an essential document of kankyō ongaku - and one that sounds more necessary than ever. The remaster and artwork of this vinyl edition were made by the artist. Takashi Kokubo (born 1956) is one of Japan's most influential ambient composers and acoustic environment designers. A pioneer of kankyō ongaku since the mid-1980s, his sound design work has reached virtually every corner of Japanese daily life - from the national mobile phone earthquake alert to the sign tone for iD e-money and the melody call tone for NTT DoCoMo. In 2020, he was included in the Grammy-nominated compilation Kankyo Ongaku (Best Historical Album), cementing his place as a foundational figure in environmental music worldwide.

Balaise was the original title of Vers le Nord’s debut album. In French slang, balaise means something in between badass and flamboyant. The word keeps popping up throughout the record, like a teenager’s graffiti scrawled on a bus shelter after a few drinks. Balaise robots. Balaise ghosts lurking in the shadows. Balaise is the barfly who fantasies about becoming a street vigilante. In many ways, Matthieu Pellerin's new solo project is entirely contained within that word: a gigantic piece one man against the world cobbled together, a monument shaped by hand using layers of synthesizers sounding like cathedral organs cast in concrete.


Stitching this type of freak together took time. Five years, or what sounds like forever in an age obsessed with career trajectories and content strategies. But for Matthieu Pellerin, it was never about career plans or taking the easy road. Or he would have dug up the rotting corpse of Oi Boys, his now-defunct band, whose brief existence and explosive popularity once united sullen skinheads, gothic street punks, and old school punks alike. Or he would have fully embraced the Metz scene, now that the Great International Triple Alliance of the East (Noir Boy George, The Dreams, The Feeling Of Love...) and rising solo acts like Tune Zitoune, Josy Bazar, Fantôme Josepha, and Tony Gerrano have somehow transformed this sprawling open-air heroin camp into an unlikely capital of cool. But Vers le Nord doesn't point East, and it is as a lone rider that Matthieu Pellerin can fully reveal his songwriting scope.


With Le Seul Élément, his first solo project, the Lorraine native had already shown a rare gift for crafting worlds. Picture vast sonic masses stretching like industrial zones, noise-filled fog pierced by pale neon lights and landscapes caught somewhere between the gnarliest dive bar and a doomsday bunker. And slipping through the soul-crushing slowness and fractured blackened atmospheres, one could perceive a throwback to his years plotting in black metal-tinged Loth and Bishop.

Vers le Nord populates those landscapes that once were rough sketches. Damaged characters reign supreme, with a plethora of exquisite mutts brought to life, rather than outcasts committed to the cause. Where Nuits Blanches —his new supergroup featuring members of Rixe, Lion's Law, Headbussa and La Femme— pulls no punches with raw confessions, Pellerin switches gear for tales of robot apocalypses, vagrants and fam-seeking school shooters, delivered with William Sheller-esque rhymes and striking images. Yet even within fiction, he manages to create something deeply intimate, almost defining, showing very little effort: he is a natural. All in all, à l’aise (at ease). Songs resonate deeply with the listener, perhaps because of Pellerin’s odd way or always addressing someone without ever really naming them, a floating, obsessive and inescapable “you” calling us out.


Despite all of the darkness, Vers le Nord stirs deep emotions. There is something of Type O Negative or Anna von Hausswolff in its constant collision of the ludicrous and the epic gothic, its bleak romanticism that never tells a sordid tale. While the vocals remain rooted in a distinctly French punk lineage—think No Class, La Souris Déglinguée and OG Bérurier Noir—the reactor core is hidden somewhere else. Oneohtrix Point Never feels like a closer relative with his ultra-emotional music made of cold synths and disembodied anthems, swallowing and regurgitating forty years of icy, contemplative new wave across ten songs. It comes as no surprise that Lila Ehjä and Aimable, two rising specialists in lowering the temperature below seasonal norms, appear on “Enterrez-moi bordel” (“Bury Me, for fuck's sake”), a grandiose, spectral and magnificently arrogant finale. And in the end, Vers le Nord starts where the original idea was hiding all along: somewhere amid the ruins, definitely balaise and yet somehow, completely à l'aise.

Move in Stereo: The Cars’ Eponymous Debut Album Functions as a Greatest-Hits Set with Classics Such as "You're All I've Got Tonight," "Good Times Roll," and "Just What I Needed"
Experience the Six-Times-Platinum Record in Definitive Sound on
Mobile Fidelity’s UltraDisc One-Step 180g 45RPM 2LP Box Set:
Strictly Limited to 4,000 Numbered Copies,
It Plays with Reference Definition and Presence
1/4” / 15 IPS analogue master to DSD 256 to analogue console to lathe.

Among the most critically and commercially successful debuts in history, the Cars' eponymous album doubles as a greatest-hits collection. Not one song on it is widely unrecognized or unknown. Consider the list: "You're All I've Got Tonight." "Good Times Roll." "Just What I Needed." "Moving in Stereo." "My Best Friend's Girl." "Don't Cha Stop." “Bye Bye Love.” Just call The Cars the best new-wave rock album ever made. And a natural candidate for preservation on a Mobile Fidelity UltraDisc One-Step pressing.

Sourced from the original analog tapes, pressed at Fidelity Record Pressing in California, mastered by engineer Krieg Wunderlich, and strictly limited to 4,000 numbered copies, MoFi’s UD1S 180g 45RPM 2LP box set presents the six-time platinum record in the most vivid, wide-spanning, three-dimensional sound it has enjoyed on vinyl. Compared to the label’s outstanding and out-of-print 180g 33RPM version, this collectible edition features richer textures, broader openness, greater presence, and bigger dynamics.

Benefitting from the extra groove space on 45RPM by playing with enhanced definition, deep-black backgrounds, and ultra-quiet surfaces, this reissue portrays the band’s oscillating rhythms, futuristic keyboard passages, and panned images with stunning realism. Songs take on an absolutely surreal quality. The Cars and producer Roy Thomas Baker manipulate arrangements at will to mesmerize listeners' senses. The concept of "moving in stereo” has likely never been truer.

The industry-leading packaging of the UD1S set gives fans another reason to gravitate towards the 1978 album. A deluxe slipcase, two foil-stamped jackets, faithful-to-the-original graphics, and MoFi inner sleeves make for a premium tactile experience. It invites you to immerse yourself in everything about the record, including the now-familiar cover art depicting Nataliya Medvedeva behind the wheel. Enhanced by her glistening ruby-red lips, her face flashes an expression caught between surprise, ecstasy, and disbelief — an apropos way of responding to The Cars whether you’re hearing it for the first or 1,115th time.

Introduced in 2024 into the National Recording Registry for its significance, and ranked the 353rd Greatest Album of All Time by Rolling Stone, The Cars explodes with emotion, energy, and hooks. Its songs unite then-disparate styles: bubblegum melodies, art-rock angularity, progressive structuralism, terse minimalism, and power-pop sheen. The stylish arrangements also benefit from a laidback cool and understated irony that remain uncommon in the world of contemporary mainstream music.

Equally rare is the deep chemistry the members shared before they entered London’s AIR Studios and knocked out the record in less than a month. Benjamin Orr and Ric Ocasek began their first band together in the early ‘70s. A subsequent group with future Cars keyboardist Greg Hawke preceded Orr and Ocasek bonding further by temporarily performing as a duo. One final pre-Cars ensemble, Cap’n Swing, brought guitarist Elliot Easton into the fold. A decision by Ocasek to take the band in a rock direction, a crucial lineup shuffle, and a name change begat the Cars so many listeners know and love.

Already a going concern in Boston, the quintet cut its teeth and woodshopped songs for nearly a year and a half before signing with Elektra and partnering with Baker. The Cars enjoyed success right out of the gate, hitting No. 18 on the Billboard Top 200 chart and netting a pair of Top 40 singles in the form of “Just What I Needed” and deceptively happy “My Best Friend’s Girl.” The sarcastic “Good Times Roll” climbed to No. 41, but soon enough, almost every track on The Cars became a radio staple — an honor far more meaningful than chart positions.

Obsessed with incorporating the latest technologies and sounds into its palette, the band spiced tunes with delightful and quirky accents — country-tinged guitar fills, echoing Syndrums, reggae splashes, hard-rock tones, robotic pulses. Orr's low, nuanced deliveries and Ocasek's cool, detached vocals lend shades of doubt and double meaning to the lyrics, which are further counterbalanced by synthesizer flourishes and electronic beats.

Accessible and eccentric, edgy and catchy: The results comprise a landmark whose characters come to vivid life with nuclear boots, dry-drip gloves, ribbon-festooned coiffures, suede-blue eyes, and rock ‘n’ roll hair. It's practically impossible to avoid humming along to every song, all enhanced by Baker's stellar production. Best known for his work with Queen, he ensured the record packed a punchy midrange, opened up with instrumental and vocal separation, and breathed with airy harmonies.

Indeed, from the timeless music to the sleek production and sonic restoration, The Cars on UD1S is just what you needed.

The moment the instantly recognizable intertwined guitar passage on the title track to the Eagles' Hotel California begins, the record's genius becomes obvious all over again. Ranked the 118th Greatest Album of All Time by Rolling Stone, certified by RIAA as the third best-selling LP in history, and considered the foundation on which the Golden State's mid-‘70s music scene was built, the 1976 landmark is a music staple immune to shifts in trends, eras, and styles. Fearlessly addressing the chaos and consequences of American life, its songs remain strikingly prescient and gain creedence with each passing day.

Mastered from the original analogue master tapes, pressed on MoFi SuperVinyl, and limited to 17,500 numbered copies, Mobile Fidelity's UltraDisc One-Step 180g 45RPM 2LP vinyl box set ensures you will want to permanently check into and never leave this particular Hotel California. Up to the herculean task of standing head and shoulders above all prior reissues, this collectible edition plays with extreme clarity, organic richness, tube-like warmth, massive dynamics, and microscopic levels of detail. You'll be able to practically smell the colitas and feel the breeze in your hair. Songs come across with an epic sweep and feature immersive, front-to-back soundstages that allow the music unprecedented air, roominess, and separation. As for the noise floor? It's basically as invisible as the spirits that waft in the corridors of the unforgettable title song.

Aesthetically, the premium packaging and presentation of the UD1S Hotel California pressing befit its esteemed status. Housed in a deluxe box, it features gorgeous foil-stamped jackets and faithful-to-the-original graphics that illuminate the splendour of the recording. From every angle, this UD1S reissue exists as a curatorial artefact meant to be preserved, touched, and examined. It is made for discerning listeners that prize sound quality and production, and who desire to fully immerse themselves in the art – and everything involved with the album, from the renowned cover art to the meticulous finishes.

Indeed, the opportunity to zero in on all the particulars of the 26-million-selling Eagles record dubbed "a legitimate rock masterpiece" by vaunted Los Angeles Times scribe Robert Hilburn has never been better. A global phenomenon that marked the band debut of guitarist-singer Joe Walsh, Hotel California continues to resonate and connect with listeners of all generations taken by its narrative depth, stark directness, picturesque melodies, daring majesty, and ardent emotionalism. Adorned with a breathtaking exterior photograph of the Beverly Hills Hotel that serves as the simultaneously haunting and alluring cover art, and rounded out by a rear-cover shot of the Lido Hotel lobby that reinforces a notion that teeters between permanence and transience, Hotel California is brilliantly tied to a specific place that functions as a universally understood metaphor for the American Dream.

Confronting the darker undercurrents and oft-ignored constructs attached to that romantic notion, the record's songs revolve around a host of shared themes: excess, mobility, stability, illusion, fame, destruction, and idealism included. Notably, Hotel California appeared at a crucial junction in American history: During the country's bicentennial and amid escalating controversies related to the Vietnam War, energy crisis, and governmental corruption. That the Eagles manage to channel such cultural, social, and economical matters into a cohesive, stately, big-picture statement is alone a stupendous feat. That the album's reach, boldness, vitality, accessibility, and understated intensity have never waned make it a marvel.

Reflecting on Hotel California 40 years after its original release, and indirectly explaining its enduring appeal and increasing relevance, singer-songwriter Don Henley confirmed the record pertains to the "loss of innocence, the cost of naiveté...the difficulties of balancing loving relationships and work, trying to square the conflicting relationship between business and art; the corruption in politics, the fading away of the Sixties dream of ‘peace, love and understanding.'"

It can be argued that Henley and company squarely hit on and drove home those ideas in the surreal title track, chart-topping "Life in the Fast Lane," and grand "The Last Resort" alone. But that would miss the forest for the trees. Experienced as an unbroken whole, complete with the pristinely shot imagery and physical grooves, Hotel California unfolds like a geography-conscious saga by James Michener and plays like colour-saturated movie shot on 70mm film by Martin Scorsese. It's about our collective and individual decisions – and the shape of our past, present, and future. And, just like that conjured by our imaginations, Hotel California continues to take on a life of its own.

More About Mobile Fidelity UltraDisc One-Step and Why It Is Superior
Mobile Fidelity Sound Lab's UltraDisc One-Step (UD1S) technique bypasses generational losses inherent to the traditional three-step plating process by removing two steps: the production of father and mother plates, which are created to yield numerous stampers from each lacquer that is cut. For UD1S plating, stampers (also called "converts") are made directly from the lacquers. Since each lacquer yields only one stamper, multiple lacquers need to be cut. Mobile Fidelity's UD1S process produces a final LP with the lowest-possible noise floor. The removal of two steps of the plating process also reveals musical details and dynamics that would otherwise be lost due to the standard multi-step process. With UD1S, every aspect of vinyl production is optimized to produce the best-sounding vinyl album available today.

MoFi SuperVinyl
Developed by NEOTECH and RTI, MoFi SuperVinyl is the most exacting-to-specification vinyl compound ever devised. Analogue lovers have never seen (or heard) anything like it. Extraordinarily expensive and extremely painstaking to produce, the special proprietary compound addresses two specific areas of improvement: noise floor reduction and enhanced groove definition. The vinyl composition features a new carbonless dye (hold the disc up to the light and see) and produces the world's quietest surfaces. This high-definition formula also allows for the creation of cleaner grooves that are indistinguishable from the original lacquer. MoFi SuperVinyl provides the closest approximation of what the label's engineers hear in the mastering lab.

There was nothing in contemporary music like Chris Isaak’s Heart Shaped World when it hit shelves in June 1989. More than three decades later, the singer-songwriter’s third album still sounds unique — and claims a backstory nearly as fascinating as the retro-leaning material and standout performances that propelled it to sales of more than 2.5 million copies. Home to the Top 10 smash “Wicked Game,” the set remains a masterful mood piece that invites you to pour a late-night drink, sit in a dimmed room, and relish Isaak’s elegant albeit raw ruminations on love, relationships, and questionable decisions.

Sourced from the original master tapes, pressed at Fidelity Record Pressing, strictly limited to 3,000 numbered copies, and featuring the bonus track “Diddley Daddy,” Mobile Fidelity's UltraDisc One-Step 180g 45RPM 2LP box set of Heart Shaped World unearths the staggering inner details, saturated tones, and brilliant atmospherics of the crisp production. It brings you up close and personal with Isaak’s spectacular singing — impeccably controlled, tense, brooding, steamy, smoldering, haunted — situated amidst stripped-down backdrops that allow every note to fully bloom and decay.

While Isaak’s ever-steady baritone remains the anchor, the contributions of his trusty backing band, the aptly named Silvertone, come across with just as much cool, command, and realism. The indispensable playing of guitarist James Calvin Wilsey particularly emerges with superb clarity and dimensionality. The character of his 1965 Fender Stratocaster, shivering twang of his spring-coiled fills, and his signature use of reverb, delay, and vibrato seamlessly match Isaak's patient deliveries and the band’s unhurried rhythms. Experienced on UD1S with ultra-black backgrounds and a nearly invisible noise floor, Heart Shaped World is in every regard a demonstration disc.

The premium packaging of this UD1S pressing befits its elevated status. Housed in a deluxe slipcase, it features foil-stamped jackets and faithful-to-the-original graphics. Aurally and visually, this reissue is for discerning listeners who desire to immerse themselves in everything involved with the album, not the least of which is the cover art depicting a lost-in-thought Isaak staring ahead and sitting in what appears to be an efficiency apartment. The image epitomizes the record’s lonesome temperaments and pensive themes.

Of course, if not for director David Lynch hand-picking two cuts from Heart Shaped World for his 1990 film Wild at Heart, the record would’ve probably suffered the same fate as Isaak’s prior efforts and gone unnoticed by the mainstream. Despite receiving raves from outlets such as NME, Chicago Tribune, and Rolling Stone upon its original release, the album stalled in the lower quadrants of the Billboard charts and, after a few weeks, dropped off.

Cue the ear of Lee Chesnut. Then the music director for a large Atlanta radio station, Chesnut heard the instrumental version of “Wicked Game” on Lynch’s soundtrack and started airing the album rendition at all hours of the day. Aided by a sensual video featuring Isaak and supermodel Helena Christensen, the song found its way into the public consciousness by early ‘91 and helped make Isaak a most unlikely mainstream star in an era where his techniques had little to nothing in common with popular tastes.

Despite its vintage vibes and shared DNA with legends such as Roy Orbison, Chet Baker, and Glen Campbell, Heart Shaped World transcends nostalgia, rockabilly, and throwback tropes. For all the melodrama and sadness at hand, Isaak’s gorgeously transparent singing dives deep underneath emotional surfaces. He mines subtleties that indicate his feelings go beyond heartbreak and anguish, and occasionally suggest frustration, menace, and anger. You can hear it in his quivering falsetto, and the slow and methodical ways he allows delicate whispers to break into shadowy phrasing that crosses over to the darker sides of romance and desire.

That approach bolsters the title track, which suggests calm yet moves on ominous currents — its simmering pace and snare-drum snappiness foreshadowing Isaak raising the volume and urgency during the coda. The southwestern-tinged “Wrong to Love You” plays with similar concepts of hesitation, unease, and discord, Isaak careful never to fully erupt and give anything away. His poised deliveries offer a master class in the art of insinuation and hurt on “Nothing’s Changed,” sent up with a wordless backing chorus and crackling guitar lines straight out of a Memphis blues joint.

Heart Shaped World further boosts its merit via its abundant stylistic variations, from the upbeat country-and-western trot of “I’m Not Waiting” and Spanish acoustic shimmer of the jazz-based ballad “Blue Spanish Sky” to the swinging horn-accompanied grooves of “Don’t Make Me Love You” and desert smokiness of the understated “Kings of the Highway.” On the latter, Isaak comes across as resigned and absolute. His singing and pain worm their way into your soul, and echo akin to the way the music prepares to strike when you least expect.

“Trouble going 'round,” Isaak croons right as the album begins. “Trouble going down.” Damn straight.

There’s no direct English translation for the word “hiraeth”. In the Welsh language, it describes a form of longing for an intangible something, somewhere or someone that no longer exists. Sofie Birch and Antonina Nowacka draw on the concept to guide their second collaborative album, a suite of vulnerable, open-hearted improvisations and reflections that attempt to grasp an image of the past that’s chimeric, dissolving almost as soon as it materializes. The duo’s process follows the same distant beacon; unlike Languoria, their critically acclaimed debut, Hiraeth is, at heart, an acoustic record, informed by in-person improvisations with voices and string instruments that gesture to an era before computers, AI and DAWs. It’s just as lush, but Hiraeth is warmer and more muted than its predecessor.
Nowacka and Birch conceived the album in the wake of a slew of collaborative live concerts, spurred on by serendipitous improvisations and an interest in paring down their setup. Unsound arranged a retreat in Sokołowsko, an idyllic village nestled in the verdant hills of Southern Poland, close to the Czech border. Sokołowsko surrounds a large ruined sanatorium that’s rumored to have inspired Thomas Mann’s 1924 novel The Magic Mountain, and has long been a magnet for artists. The two took the opportunity to rethink their approach completely, arriving with just a guitar, a zither and a portable Nagra reel-to-reel machine. Recording directly to tape, they sketched out ideas with just their voices and instruments, reflecting their surroundings without being distracted or mediated by modern technology.
“We wanted to get away from screens as much as possible,” says Birch, “to bring to the world something vulnerable and honest. Without advance preparation, every day we went out into the open air, finding places to sit, during sunset or the midday sun. We discovered new tunings on our instruments, picked up a melody, and started the machine, playing over
and over till we got a take.” In the autumn, they met again in a Copenhagen studio, sparingly and carefully layering old synths and organs to add more depth without muddying the mix.
Both Nowacka and Birch sing throughout, their voices threading the acoustic instruments and tangling with each other, almost becoming one. But it’s the environment of Sokołowsko, “the birds and the light, even the wind playing against the harps,” that’s woven into the music’s lining. Affected by time spent meditating and in nature, as well as the fact that Birch was pregnant whilst recording, the album feels alive and remarkably present. Even the sound quality of the tape machine gives Hiraeth a tactile, organic quality, as Nowacka puts it, “like being in a warm bath.”

They still have the raw recordings from Sokołowsko on old reels, physical souvenirs of their time spent making music in a “habitat for intuitive songs, a little ecosystem, alive and spirited.” The outmoded gear and remote setting helped the duo disengage from the modern world for a few moments and imagine an existence that’s been lost to time and nominal progress. With digital technology receding into the background, Nowacka and Birch had space to make “intuitive connections with frequencies and people,” as Birch explains. Hiraeth is a testament not to nostalgia, but to the power of kinship.

LP,180, 2018 REISSUE - REMASTERED FROM ORIGINAL TAPES, CAREFULLY REPRODUCED ORIGINAL ART

The two sides of 1973's Big Business / Wind of Change are mainly the work of thegreat Keith Mansfeld but there's a killer cameo each from Alan Hawkshaw and David Snell to help deliver a thematic suite, diverse in mood, applicable to dramatic and environmental situations'. A Be With favourite and truly one for the heads.
The Big Business of side A is all the work of Keith Mansfeld. It's heavy on the suspense and features the vital Hot Property', an insistent groove so good that Madlib sampled it to lace the ace Long Awaited' by Lootpack with Dilated Peoples.
Sleeping Giant 1' is a more feshed out version of the equally-dazzling Fatal Error', evoking the orchestral magic of David Axelrod. Indeed, it conjures images of Diamond D falling over himself in the early-to-mid 90s to loop its intoxicatingly
eerie soundscape. Complete with guitar flls that recall Paris, Texas-era Ry Cooder, you need this record for this piece alone.
The horn-and-fute-led "Tycoon" is a head-nodder and "Power Complex" has some fantastic percussion. Other highlights include the breezy glide of Whistle Stop Tour' and its sister groove Clean Air.'
Over on Side B is the more expansive Wind Of Change, which includes the David Snell and the Alan Hawkshaw contributions. But these ain't no fller. Snell's shufing International Flight' sounds like a smooth Dorothy Ashby track tossed from the heavens. Hawkshaw's Road And Rail' is about as luxurious and strung-
out as the great man gets and it might just be the highlight of this whole set.
Not to be outdone, if Mansfeld's Balance Of Power' doesn't make you feel like king of the world then you must be playing it wrong. Oh, and did we mention World In Action'!
As with all ten re-issues, the audio for Big Business / Wind of Change comes from the original analogue tapes and has been remastered for vinyl by Be With regularSimon Francis. We've taken the same care with the sleeves, handing the reproduction duties over to Richard Robinson, the current custodian of KPM's
brand identity.

The Reloved series – Four Flies Records’ ongoing project where today’s producers reimagine select gems from the golden age of Italian library music and soundtracks – welcomes a new chapter from the formidable pairing of Nicola Conte and Nico Lahs.

The tracks reworked in this vinyl EP all originate from the first half of the 1970s, a period when a fascination with African imagery and sounds was so pervasive among Italian composers that it became a prominent cultural and aesthetic trend. Applying their refined touch, Conte and Lahs have expanded the rhythmic and atmospheric potential of the original recordings without the need for invasive overwriting. Instead, they have emphasized the unique identity of each piece, adding a contemporary club energy that remains entirely respectful of the original spirit, structure, and essence.

The EP opens with Piero Umiliani’s “Nel Villaggio” (originally found on the 1975 library album Continente Nero), which Conte and Lahs have filtered through a hypnotic, sensual tribal-house lens. Side A continues with “Orgiastic Ritual”, a reimagining of Gianfranco Reverberi’s main theme for Black Magic Rites (Renato Polselli’s 1973 erotic-horror film), which elevates the original percussive groove, amplifying its ritualistic dimension and drawing the listener into a mesmeric sonic spiral.

On side B, “Oasi nella Giungla” – from Giuliano Sorgini’s Africa Oscura (recorded in 1974) – takes a more minimalist, electronic approach: the original material remains front and centre, enveloped in delays and subtle rhythmic touches. Closing the EP is Romolo Grano and Gianni Oddi’s “Kilimangiaro”, originally composed for the 1974 documentary Le Montagne della Luce; through the use of sampling and loops, Conte and Lahs transform it into an elegant afro-house cut, at once sleekly restrained and irresistibly magnetic.

This is undoubtedly the most club-oriented instalment of the Reloved series to date, propelling Italy’s library music heritage from the flickering screens and analogue airwaves of the past onto the dancefloors of the present.

Dr. Caligari was notoriously out of his mind — a genius fixated on experiments and a former lecturer at the Department of Experimental Phonetics. His students, Spacelunch included, spoke of him with cautious admiration: “Too smart to be normal; too bold to stop.” His laboratory looked like a hand-welded cosmos: cables everywhere, diodes, and the soft hiss of electricity.

“What’s that?” Spacelunch nodded toward the large glass dome.
“My new invention that allows sound to become tangible. Care to take a look?”

The Professor and Cat carefully stepped inside.

“You’re about to be the first to witness the voice of space!”
“Hey, we didn’t sign up for this!”
“Doesn’t that make the experiment more interesting?”

Caligari smiled and turned a dial. Their bodies stretched like strands of pasta and vanished. An instant later, they found themselves in another dimension: towers of transistors and coils rose into the sky, the air thrummed with low-frequency oscillations, and every flash of light carried the rhythm of a sonic lattice. Almost at once, the image wavered like old film, went black, and then snapped back to the laboratory. Caligari sat at the console, eyes fixed on the monitors. “It worked,” he whispered. “Perfect phase alignment!”

With Hyperbola, Laima Adelaide frames speed as a condition of softness rather than impact. The fan- tasy of flying through the air with effortless move- ment forms its emotional core, as tracks move fast, yet nothing collides: rhythms skim the surface, tex- tures hover, and motion unfolds through glide inste- ad of strike. Energy is continuous and diffused, pro- ducing propulsion without aggression, momentum without weight.

The hyperbola operates as both image and method. Sounds trace curved trajectories, drawing close only to diverge again, suspended in a state of gentle tension. Elements never resolve into force, they re- main airborne, elastic, and permeable, as if shaped by an invisible geometry. Across the EP, velocity becomes a tool for lightness, revealing an ethereal space where motion is elegant, friction dissolves, and intensity is carried through grace rather than pressure.

Credits:
Mastering by HWA
Artwork and Graphic Design by Enrico Caldini
Distributed by One Eye Witness

Reintroducing Soar - the alias of Christian Aebi, serial DIY taper and one-man orchestra from Langenthal, a fog-shrouded town in the Swiss provinces. Krautophobia, ambient lo-fi agriculture, analogue soul balm and slowspeed psych gelati-blitz cardboard pop only gesture towards the sound world he coaxed from his broken Tascam four-track recorder, in attics, churches, junkyards and at the kitchen table.

The spark for Soar was likely time and space, somewhere in the autumn of 1994. Armed with a cable salad of Sixties guitar/bass, fairground drums, mould-speckled organs and toy instruments, Aebi coaxed five albums, an unverified run of 25 cassettes, and a handful of gigs. Mostly issued through Zurich label Corazoo, the records arrived in hand-pasted sleeves, rough-cut reproductions of his teddy bear-fixated artwork that carried the same imperfect immediacy as the music. With Rudi Steiner, performances in galleries, clubs and halls bent into live sound-image happenings - part installation, part film, part flea-market-instrument theatre - invariably leaving the house engineers bewildered.

At the time of his untimely death in 2021, Aebi remained a village secret, his music passed quietly between friends and local ears. Now, Swiss graphic designer and Ghost Riders compiler Ivan Liechti has pieced together a portrait from the afterglow, gathering tangled audio formats, paintings, illustrations, photographs and notebooks with his family, former label and peers. What emerges is a first glimpse of Soar's intimate cosmos - brushing against Füxa, Spectrum, Dump, Stereolab and King Crimson, but orbiting a dimension entirely his own.

Soul Jazz Records’ new Soul Jamaica brings together a wicked selection of
reggae funk and soul tracks from the legendary Studio One stable, featuring
a stellar line-up of artists including Jackie Mittoo, The Heptones, The
Gladiators, Sim Smith, Peter Tosh and The Wailers, Cedric ‘Im’ Brooks and
many more.
For a short period of time at the end of the 1960s and early 1970s, nestled
between the end of rocksteady and the arrival of roots reggae, Studio One
released a small stream of superb soul and funk reggae tunes – covering
everyone from Sly and The Family Stone, Diana Ross and The Supremes,
Nina Simone, Gene Chandler, Tyrone Davis and more.
Most of the tracks featured on Soul Jamaica were only ever released on
Studio One’s UK-subsidiary label Bamboo in small-run pressings and are
now consequently extremely hard to find.
The cover photograph features images of Air Jamaica, the new airline
created by the Jamaican government at the end of the 1960s, showing how
in the years following independence the
country assumed its place on the world
stage, with reggae music playing a key
role in creating the island’s new
cultural identity.

In the heart of a post-apocalyptic city, Spacelunch was making his way through the ruins, wearing a heavy armour of metal plates and flickering circuitry. Cat settled on his shoulder, listening intently to every sound. This time, they weren't just looking for an artefact — their target was the Singularity Echo, a mysterious device created right before the catastrophe. Legend had it that the scientists of the past, sensing the impending collapse, had put all their accumulated experience and knowledge together to create it. It was said that one day “Echo” would awaken and allow descendants to touch the wisdom of the ancients, learn the secrets of forgotten technologies and, perhaps, avoid the fatal mistakes of the past.

— We’ve been wandering around for how long? — muttered Cat, looking around warily. — And nothing.

— Sitting up there complaining, aren’t you? — Spacelunch grinned, deftly bypassing the debris and intertwined roots that poked out from under the asphalt.



Suddenly, a glow flashed before them, gradually taking the form of a palm-sized transparent crystal. It floated in the air, surrounded by silver lining that wove into intricate patterns, like a network of ancient runes. The symbols on its facets, flickering, cast soft reflections on the debris around them. As the professor slowly reached out his hand, the crystal shone brighter, and the low whisper of distant voices cut through the silence. Their minds were enveloped by the echoes of past events, filling their minds with images of the vanished world.

The friends froze for a moment, overwhelmed by shock and a sense of profound change.

— Well, — said Cat, not hiding his surprise. — It seems we've gotten a little smarter.

— A little? Now we have what has been lost for an era.

— So, we have a new adventure ahead of us. Where do we start?

The ghost town, once seemingly lifeless, now seemed to come to life: every collapsed building and every corner sparked with traces and clues as if the world itself was holding its breath, waiting for a sign.

Italian producer, musician, DJ, and groove architect Sam Ruffillo drops his long-awaited debut album Tipo Così on Toy Tonics – a sun-drenched, genre-blurring statement that blends classic house with Mediterranean flair, romantic funk, and tongue-in-cheek Italo vibes. Over 11 expertly crafted tracks, Ruffillo delivers a dancefloor-ready, emotionally rich LP that connects deep musicality with irresistible rhythm and light-hearted elegance.

After three acclaimed EPs and collaborations with revered artists such as Barbara Boeing, Kapote, and Fimiani, Ruffillo has firmly cemented himself as a core artist on the Berlin-based label. Known for his unmistakable signature sound — a warm mix of vintage disco, 90s house, and Italian vocals — Sam’s music has garnered widespread DJ support from tastemakers like Gerd Janson, Palms Trax, Seth Troxler, and DJ Tennis, while becoming a staple on Italian airwaves. His infectious summer anthems like Danza Organica and Perfetta Così have soundtracked countless club nights and festivals, creating a loyal following that eagerly awaited this full-length debut.

Tipo Così is the natural culmination of a musical journey that’s both playful and profound — a travel diary written in grooves, synth stabs, and melodies that feel like postcards from a parallel Mediterranean universe. The album expands and deepens Ruffillo’s world into a fully immersive experience: lush emotional chords meet tight syncopated grooves, vintage synth textures collide with irresistibly catchy pop refrains, and the boundary between sincerity and playful irony is exquisitely blurred.

Entirely written, produced, and recorded in Italy, in his beloved hometown of Bologna, the album finds Ruffillo at the helm on keys, drum machines, and production, supported by a talented cast of musicians contributing live bass, guitar, and other organic elements — further enriching his trademark fusion of electronic grooves and natural instrumentation. There’s a tactile warmth in these tracks, a hands-on feel that adds soul and depth to every beat.

This album also marks Ruffillo’s heartfelt return to singing in Italian, with standout tracks like House Tipo Così, Mi Fa Volare, Ancora, and Dentro Di Me, where romantic naïveté meets pulsing club energy in a way that feels both timeless and refreshingly new. The vocal performances add an intimate, human touch to the music, reinforcing the personal stories woven into each song. There’s poetry in the casual, a bittersweet elegance in the way the lyrics float over groove-heavy production.

Having toured extensively across Europe, Australia, Indonesia, New Zealand, and Mexico — with sets at iconic venues like Panorama Bar and festivals such as Sónar Barcelona — Ruffillo has fine-tuned much of this album in front of live audiences. The real-world testing ground infused the record with a dynamic energy and immediacy that only comes from genuine crowd interaction. These songs weren’t just made in the studio — they were lived on dancefloors around the world.

Tipo Così is not just a collection of tracks. It’s a philosophy — playful, stylish and unmistakably personal. A modern club album bursting with heartfelt emotion and sophistication. Music for dancers with taste; for lovers of beauty, rhythm, and the little imperfections that make things feel real.

But what exactly is Tipo Così? More than just a phrase, it’s a way of being. It’s about embracing elegance without effort, mixing irony with sincerity, and letting nostalgia slip into the room without taking over the party. It’s Sam Ruffillo’s signature language: relaxed, confident, meticulous yet never rigid — where a chord progression can say as much as a lyric, and every beat carries intention.

The album’s visual identity complements this vision perfectly. The artwork and promotional materials lovingly reference Italian design from the ’80s and ’90s, combining bold graphic elements with playful pop culture nods. This aesthetic mirrors Ruffillo’s music — a fusion of vintage warmth and contemporary freshness, delivered with authenticity and charm.

Sam Ruffillo belongs to a new generation of European artists who are reshaping electronic music by blending past and present, analog and digital, groove and emotion — without nostalgia or pose. His artistic universe is coherent, vibrant, and alive; a rich tapestry of sound, images, and stories that coexist with lightness, precision, and a distinctive voice.

Reflecting on his artistic journey, Sam describes music as a vital, deeply human impulse — a tribal connection to rhythm and body that has driven him since he was a teenager. His creative process balances meticulous planning with room for spontaneity, usually sparked by clear melodic ideas that evolve naturally. Collaborations with close friends, especially vocalists like Ninfa, add warmth and authenticity, exemplified in tracks like “House Tipo Così.” For Sam, music is honest self-expression — crafted for listeners who crave memorable melodies and rhythms imbued with genuine feeling.

While technical perfection is tempting, Sam prioritizes emotion, knowing that what truly resonates is the soul behind the sounds. His long-standing partnership with Toy Tonics has been key in nurturing his vision, offering a blend of creative freedom and professional support. Looking ahead, Sam Ruffillo is excited to broaden his live performances, and release new projects that continue to blend electronic grooves with organic, heartfelt sounds — maintaining the delicate balance between playful irony and sincere emotion that defines Tipo Così.




Kurzversion:
Italian DJ, producer and musician Sam Ruffillo drops his debut album Tipo Così on Toy Tonics - a sunny blend of house, funk, Italo and pop, full of groove and emotion. Written and recorded in Bologna with live instruments and Italian vocals, it’s a playful, elegant journey shaped on dancefloors worldwide. A stylish, sincere club album where nostalgia, irony and rhythm meet in perfect harmony.

- Mi Fa Volare
Road-tested across continents and now finally released, “Mi Fa Volare” channels 90s uplifting euphoria with big breakbeats, lush chords, and Italian vocals built to stick. Somewhere between balearic bliss and piano house nostalgia, it’s a feel-good club weapon made for peak-time moments - already sung back by crowds after just one listen.


- Ancora
“Ancora” is a vibrant hi-NRG track inspired by 80s Italo disco, sung entirely in Italian. It blends driving rhythms with dreamy melodies, capturing the radiant spirit of the decade. This fresh yet nostalgic song delivers euphoric vibes and timeless energy, making it a perfect fit for both dancefloors and reflective listening moments worldwide.


- Dentro Di Me
“Dentro Di Me” channels ‘90s sensuality through a fast-paced, UK house-inspired lens. Entirely in Italian, it’s a bold and contemporary dance track where hypnotic vocals meet high-energy grooves. Blending nostalgic textures with forward-thinking production, the result is a seductive and euphoric trip - equal parts emotional and club-ready.


- Amigo
“Amigo” blends Latin groove, acoustic guitar-driven rhythm, and Mediterranean flair into a warm, magnetic, cross-cultural dance anthem. Sung in Spanish and Italian, it celebrates connection, inclusivity, and the joy of moving together - whether stranger or friend. With its unstoppable rhythm and vibrant energy, it’s a feel-good track with a unifying spirit.


- Ma Sei Fuori
“Ma Sei Fuori” is a tongue-in-cheek dancefloor bomb blending raw house energy with catchy vocal phrases and a nod to classic French touch. Driven by hypnotic vocal lines and a playful attitude, it doesn’t take itself too seriously - while still proving serious club impact. Built for late-night moments, it’s bold, bouncy, and impossible to ignore.

Like a metaphor for life, the progressive sounds of « Tree of Life » evoke the image of a tree that never stops evolving and growing. With its deep and captivating melodies, Nurse Erica takes us on a cosmic journey to the outer edges of Trance and Progressive House.

As its name suggests, « Being Trance » brings together all the elements of a Trance classic: soaring melodies, spacey leads, and groovy percussion. It’s the perfect introduction to the first side of the vinyl, a metaphor for the birth of the tree.

« Do My Stuff (Ears in Space Mix) » picks up right where the opening track leaves off. Striking a balance between dreamy and nostalgic, its deep bass and driving percussion lay down the rhythm, while the airy melodies scatter like autumn leaves.

With « Take The Heartbreak », Nurse Erica explores a universal rite of passage. The first half of the track, broken and introspective, gradually gives way to a brighter second half : a glimmer of hope for every broken heart.

And with spatial vocals and cosmic atmospheres, what better way to close the journey than with the title track « Tree of Life » ? In this piece, Nurse Erica blends Trance-infused melodies with Progressive House percussion, enriched by luminous, nostalgic piano notes, like the blossoming of a tree. Deep.

Gradually, the latest album by Julien Mier, is a sonic journey that delves into the transitions of life, identity, and the blurred boundaries between art and personal growth. With a trilingual brain, Mier reflects on how language shifts have shaped his sense of self throughout his life and the music that he writes. Gradually is his exploration of shapelessness—an urge to break free from rigid musical genres and get closer to his most fundamental expression. The album is composed of nine tracks, each representing a distinct cultural and linguistic influence, all tied together by the theme of gradual evolution.

The first section, Ciel, Soleil, and Espace (French for Sky, Sun, and Space), draws on Mier’s French heritage, evoking the feeling of childhood memories bathed in a warm, nostalgic glow. This fluid, atmospheric section mirrors the soft, ever-changing air, symbolising a time of pure, untainted intention. It feels like a hazy, sepia-toned dream, as fleeting and elusive as the scent of an old friend. The gentle flow of the music mirrors the flow of wind, effortlessly shifting from one element to the next, a reflection of the innocence and clarity of youth.

The second section, Steen, Zee, and Zand (Dutch for Stone, Sea, and Sand), channels the influence of Mier’s childhood in a small Dutch dune village. These tracks are grounded in the hard-edged textures of electronic dance music, a genre that introduced him to a world of rhythm and movement. With a sonic palette of blues, greys, and more defined shapes, this section captures the solid, enduring forces of nature—earth, water, and stone. It’s a sonic landscape rooted in stability, a foundation from which everything can grow. The tracks build from the fluidity of the first section into more structured, rhythmic territories, mirroring the natural transition from childhood innocence to the discovery of deeper, more grounded musical influences.

The final section, Scrap (a collaborative track with the Japanese producer Daisuke Tanabe), Soil, and Spark, dives into the exploration of the world beyond familiar borders. Mier’s relocation from the Netherlands to Australia in 2016 is reflected in these pieces, which grapple with the contrast and complexity of different cultures and environments. These tracks are tinged with rust-red hues and a sense of eroded beauty, evoking a more fragmented, distorted view of the world. The music here is marked by tension, conflict, and the erosion of once-solid forms—symbolic of the digital and ecological storms that shape our modern existence. The closing piece, Spark, signals a new beginning, a hopeful initiation into the cycle of renewal.

The album artwork for Gradually is a conclusive visual representation of this journey, captured in the final frame of an analog film roll that began in the Netherlands and concluded with an image of the streets of Sydney, Australia—a perfect metaphor for the album’s narrative of gradual transition and discovery.

Wilson Tanner return to dry land with Legends, a wine-soaked agricultural fantasy, made among the grapevines at Manon Farm in South Australia. Where their earlier works settled into the sun-struck torpor of a suburban Perth backyard (69) or drifted off-course on a riverboat on Port Phillip Bay (ii), Legends trades salt air for vineyard sweat, the scrape of boots on dry earth and workers’ radios humming with the summer test cricket season.

Through this agricultural haze an image of a working vineyard emerges - ducks, dogs and plovers intrude; tractors and quads fly-by; stainless steel gleams at the edges. Recorded without mains power, the Manon demos overflow with farmyard ingenuity. Wind, brass, balalaika, balloon, pipe and synth are trained onto the staff with wire, tape and string.

A caricature of Australian viticulture, Legends is packed to the horns with the mythology and manure of natural wine. Swigging and belching in camaraderie, Wilson Tanner press their surroundings into something raw and unfiltered, letting bum notes, leftovers and sediment linger in the bottle. A cornucopia of biodynamic sounds.

Oversized custom cut LP jackets (13” / 33.02 cm width)
Silkscreened with bespoke iridescent citrus green ink by Mark Rice
Short story by Natalia Zuluaga

Flexi 7”:
steaming mescaline (extended mix by bad lsd trips)
Citrus green metallic foil stamp
Pressed in full stereo
Edition of 150

I.

bad lsd trips is the collaborative duo of makers doris dana and domingo castillo flores. Respectively the two have fostered practices that have sprawled out through various approaches and, whether in the lanes of the musical or the contemporary arts, the phenomenology of the social and inclusive prevails. On ultrafest, this motif continues through the psychedelia of its eight time-defying recordings, welcoming the listener into an open temporal architecture of the stereo field as a signifier of environment. It is worth noting that the group began collaborating in Miami, Florida with longer form improvisations recorded to a stereo cassette deck. In these recordings, the paved geographical sprawl and oceanic view permeated the approach to amassing long swaths of sound material. Listening back on that work at the time of this writing, each track feels as though one is walking into an active space, arriving to an event already in full swing and finding your place inside of it. On ultrafest (this album) something different occurs. The space and events are built around you as you move through the record.

II.

The name of the album is ultrafest, which should effectively provoke your mind's eye the imagery of young people dancing, salivating, grinding, and imbibing chemical compounds to the perversely formalized musical genres of “Electronic Dance Music” and latter-era Dubstep often heard in European Uber rides and energy drink commercials. A far distance from the icy and machinic reverie of Techno’s finest rave eras or the notable historical contributions of Miami’s cerebral producers to IDM’s global output, ultrafest is a libidinal catharsis as festival scaled to a multinational corporation of hedonistic excess. The festival has been a hallmark of Miami cultural industry production and optical enticement for tourism, purportedly bringing in nearly a billion dollars in revenue to the city since 2012. Scores of documentation exist wherein this decadent escapism leaves the concertgoer, usually in some neon garment on a near nude body potentially adorned with fluffy faux fur leg warmers, facing a comedown from the combination of volume, sun, dehydration, and methylenedioxy-methylamphetamine. This MDMA experience characterizes an aspect of the way bad lsd trips employs vocals and pitch on this album. The detached, high octaved longing of a high pitched vocal is decoupled from its typical auditory body of song. High-pass clicks and pops touch the (h)air on the back of the neck, promising goosebumps and teasing towards euphoric rushes of dopamine, yet also exist decoupled from the body of song. As the dopamine depletes and the sun imposes itself, Miami’s downtown of skeleton real estate is your company as you meander towards your parked vehicle to rest your fatigued senses, elevated heart rate, and quench the need for air conditioning on your skin. The immediacy of bombastic social immersion to architectural alienation palpable here.

III...

- Nick Klein

'Cupar Grain Silo' is Sam Annand's first release on the Blackford Hill label. Its nine tracks blur the lines between ambient electronica and sonic history, as synthesised melodies and rhythms reverberate through the extreme acoustics of the disused Cupar Grain Silo in Scotland. Built in 1964 as a sugar store, the silo towers 60 metres above the surrounding Fife countryside. Its industrial life was short: in 1971 it was closed, and barring a short period as a grain store, remained empty for decades.

In 2014, Sam Annand was given access to the silo as part of the Resono project, set up to study a series of highly reverberant locations across Scotland. The ambitious industrial architecture of the Cupar Grain Silo has given the space a reverberation time of 36.5 seconds. This measurement describes the time a sound takes to decay or 'fade away' in a closed space. To put this in perspective, the Cupar Grain Silo reverb time is around three times longer than that in cathedrals like York Minster and St Paul's.

"The acoustics are immediately noticeable when climbing the ladder into the main chamber", Sam says. "The sound of your voice begins to circle around and above you, inviting you to shout, clap and bang objects to excite the space into revealing its intimidating architectural voice."

Sam began to experiment with musical compositions which responded to the unique acoustics of the silo space. He used impulse responses – a short, sharp sound like a gunshot – to record these acoustics, allowing him to experiment with the silo's reverb in his production. Sam's compositions were performed using a modular synth system, a Roland Juno-6 polyphonic synthesizer and a bowed ride cymbal.

"Chords can be constructed in time by hanging successive single notes in the air," Sam describes, "The flutter echoes from the immediate cylindrical walls can be used to create bursts of scattering spatial imagery and harmonic blooms, following short percussive moments."

Originally recorded on 21st May 2016, 'Cupar Grain Silo' is now released on 12" vinyl with an accompanying booklet of imagery and essays. The compositions are at once true to the unique architectural acoustics of the silo whilst also being playful and experimental with the creative possibilities it offered. Arpeggiated melodies ebb and fall across extended call-and-response shapes formed by the silo's reverb; modular drum patterns crackle like dying machinery; whilst bowed drones waver and wash over.

"We all love reverberation," reflects Prof. Peter Stollery, Professor of Composition and Electroacoustic Music at the University of Aberdeen, on the project. "As kids, we play in it – yelling in forests and caves, surreptitiously dropping objects in huge churches – mouths wide open at the lingering smears of sound which come back to us."

In 'Cupar Grain Silo', Sam Annand has harnessed the extraordinary acoustics of the disused silo to tap into this sense of joy and amazement that reverberation can bring.

Long Beach legend Scotty Coats links the West Coast eclecticism of Stones Throw to the NYC cool of DFA and Rong to the Balearic gods of DJ Harvey et al. He personally introduced Be With to Ned Doheny 10 years ago and he was immortalised on Smith & Mudd's last LP. And he's the main man behind the mysteriously titled duo Todd Russell & The Dangerous Coats, alongside Erick "Todd" Coomes (Lettuce founder/bassist).

In very real danger of being lost forever, we unearthed two of their private recordings and present them as a double A-Side 12", adorned with S-T-U-N-N-I-N-G artwork, courtesy of Arizona artist Frank Gonzales.

"Playa Larga" is a melodic, mellow masterpiece and is quintessentially Balearic. It's stretched out, low slung, guitar-soaked drum-machine soul music. It's multi-layered and contains multitudes: it builds and builds and builds and mesmerises as it does so. On the flip, "1900 Ocean Avenue" is a super slo-mo, sunbaked drug-chug which is already blowing minds thanks to early leaks of this cosmic, psychedelic detonation.

On first listen back, Erick said to Scotty: “So wait, nothing really happens, I mean nothing bad happens but nothing really happens”. Apparently these tracks were a bit foreign for Erick, musically, because of the lack of structure in the songs.

One morning, years later, Erick called Scotty and excitedly declared: “dude, I get it now!”. He was listening to random music with a lady friend while watching the sunrise in his 1900 Ocean Ave apartment and "Playa Larga" came on randomly. He'd forgotten all about it and said he had to get up and see what song it was because "it was the perfect soundtrack for a psychedelic sunrise over the ocean."

And that's exactly how we came across it, circa 2018, randomly popping up on a playlist while we were busy doing other things. It stopped us in our tracks but, when trying to find any info on iTunes, we were out of luck. It was only years later that we worked out Scotty had sent it to us. Ever since, we've been working on getting this out to you all. It's finally time.

We've only 500 pressed for the world, with many of them spoken for by those lucky enough to be already ITK, so these are gonna fly: be warned!

Scotty is a world class raconteur so we'll hand over to him to explain how these songs came about and why they mean so much to him in the context of his wider raison d'être:

"These were made 13 years ago when I was a new dad and left my job at Ubiquity Records to provide security for my newborn son, Nolan Liam Chai Coats. I became miserable working a job outside of music for the first time in my life and I was laid off 4 months into it. I was left wondering how the fuck am I going to provide for my family?

I lived in Long Beach and Erick lived a few blocks away. I would walk to his house when Jen finally got Nolan to sleep so I could escape my panic, drink some beers (is it beerlearic?) and make some music. He lived overlooking the ocean with the Queen Mary on the horizon, so I guess mellow Long Beach nights unintentionally inspired the music. These songs were the first two songs we ever made and they embody the desperation and hope I really needed at that time. 12 years later, when Rob at Be With expressed an interest in releasing it, we had Erick's brother Tyler Tycoon Coomes play drums on it at Jazzcats Studio in LBC, with Jonny Bell.

Shortly after I was laid off, I discovered The Stepkids. I was blown away by "Shadows On Behalf" and sent it on to Gilles Peterson. He played it on Worldwide the next day. The Stepkids pulled me back into music and made me realize I wasn't prepared to do anything but be involved with music. After I heard their unreleased album, I knew there was something there so I sent it to my good friend Jamie Strong who was at Stones Throw at the time. Jamie passed it along to Peanut Butter Wolf and the band asked me to be their manager. I didn't think I was the right guy for the job but wanted to see them do well so I told them I would help shop their album. Jamie suggested I take his place at Stones Throw, just as he did when he left Ubiquity Records. I always joke that Jamie can call me Scotty Coat Tails because I had been riding his for years.

Wolf told him that "Scotty is a nice guy but has horrible taste in music", which was ironic because he was literally trying to sign the band that I brought him. The Stepkids signed with Stones Throw and found a real manager. 6 or so months later Jamie sent me a note saying "Stones Throw is hiring and you should apply lol". I told him I was going to send my resume and the subject of the email was to read I HAVE GREAT FUCKING TASTE IN MUSIC. I did just that and got a call the next day from their new GM asking me to come in for an interview. When I walked in I was in Wolf's office where I had been 6 months before, signing The Stepkids
deal. Wolf and Jason McGuire were asking me some questions and wanted to introduce me to Jeff Jank. Jank walked in and said "Isn't this the guy that Jamie wanted to bring on 6 months ago?" They confirmed and he threw his hands up and walked out saying "I've seen enough". I got the job. I worked there for 2 or 3 years until I left to join forces with Jamie Strong at his label and stayed there for almost 7 years."

Scotty wanted to use a painting by his good friend, Frank Gonzales, for the front cover image. Frank was incredibly generous in letting us use this one, and Scotty was completely honoured. We think you'll agree, it's pretty striking. Simon Francis carefully mastered the original audio for both tracks and Cicely Balston's precise cut for Alchemy at AIR Studios ensures this double A-side 12" sounds appropriately outstanding. The immaculate Record Industry pressing will ensure these previously unheard, recently discovered recordings finally get a chance to shine.

The sun sat high above the desert outside Joshua Tree on October 17, 2024, baking the rocks and shrubbery outside the Farrington Observatory as a small group of invited guests ventured up a steep path towards the telescope. Kyle Simon, the artist and printmaker who founded the Observatory, was standing outside the print studio sat below the towering cylindrical building, greeting friends alongside his wife Sarah and lifelong friend Brian Weitz, the musician widely known as Geologist of Animal Collective. Simon and Weitz had spent the previous day testing and retesting a system that would transform the light of the oncoming full moon captured by the gigantic telescope into a signal that would modulate the control voltage of Weitz’s modular synthesizer. As the sun dipped below the horizon line, the audience gathered on a small wooden patio surrounded by speakers while Weitz readied himself behind the array of patches and knobs. Simon addressed the group, presenting the history of The Sirens, the sonic exploration of the night sky’s mystical and scientific significance about to unfold.

The music conjured under the Hunter’s Moon that night is now documented on this first official release of The Sirens, which was conceived by Simon and Weitz as a recurring performance piece and sound installation. Over a decade ago, Simon began immersing himself in literature on humanity’s sonic relationship to the celestial realm, including Homer’s Odyssey, Plato’s “Spindle of Necessity, ” Kepler’s Harmonices Mundi, and the field of astroseismology. He fitted homemade telescopes with photodiodes and optical sensors to make the images audible, finding latent patterns in the noisy sonic signals he began receiving from the stars. With Weitz, the process expanded as the signal was routed through an analog amplifier and set to modulate the pitch, filter, and other elements of his synthesizer. Together they developed a system of improvisation, with Simon adjusting the telescope to change the intensity of the light based on its relationship with the moon’s position (imagine a theremin player moving their hands in subtle, meaningful motion), and Weitz responding to that input in real time: bending it, amplifying it, or letting it stand on its own. The duo debuted the piece at the Integretron in Joshua Tree in 2018, providing a crucial proof of concept for the performance at Farrington featured here.

The first thing the listener hears on The Sirens is the opening of Farrington Observatory, the cranking of motor and metal. As the lens of the telescope is exposed to the evening air, a wavering drone emerges from the synthesizer, flickering at the margins, the tuning of the oscillators adjusting to the rapidly cooling desert air. The piece progresses and the drone becomes a luminous, spherical constant, bathing the listener in pure tone as Weitz draws out harmonically ambiguous melodies that spiral upwards. Electronics crackle and convulse, coalescing into dense dissonance before widening out into an open octave. Just as the moon orbits the Earth and the stars shift as the planet rotates, so each sonic element appears in flux, interrelationships slowly forming and falling away. Divided into two parts, The Sirens flows as a continuous conversation between the artists and the starlight completing its thousand-year journey across the galaxy.

The Sirens belongs primarily to a lineage beyond music: of sea captains navigating by looking skyward, of astrophysicists studying the formation of the Milky Way, of the modern myths of werewolves, of the stories embedded in constellations. As Simon writes in the album’s extensive liner notes, “These stories and explorations reveal a collective yearning to become conscious of our connection to the universe, our deep-seated desire to understand how we fit into it all.” This music underscores the history of the night sky as the place where poetry and science find common ground, where exploration hinges on the imagination. Driven by curiosity and ingenuity, Weitz and Simon look up and wonder.

Creole Culture is the triumphant return of Dawn Richard’s King Creole era. Steeped in history but with its flag planted firmly in the future, Creole Culture pulls elements from Richard’s heritage as a Black and Native American woman who has spent a lifetime making and engaging with music. Following New Breed (2019) and Second Line (2021), Creole Culture is akin to a panel of a triptych: a fully-realized sonic and narrative universe in which Richard, as King Creole, rebuilds her hometown of New Orleans in her image. She not only honors her city for what it was or what it gave her, but stakes a claim for it as a cradle of global culture now and for all time.


Creole Culture follows two acclaimed avant-garde R&B albums with composer Spencer Zahn — the later of which, 2024’s Quiet in a World Full of Noise, found Richard exorcising the specters of grief and trauma in the wake of her father Frank Richard’s health struggles and the killing of her cousin Cisco. It is a softer take on the brass-soaked swagger of Richard’s previous King Creole efforts, an evolution brought about when she realized she had left a crucial viewpoint out of her exploration of New Orleans: her own. “New Breed was the story of New Orleans through my father’s eyes,” Richard explains. “I used his samples, his music, his cultures, his work with Chocolate Milk, his side of the family. Second Line was my mom — her interludes riddled the album with her depiction of what is meant to be a Creole woman in New Orleans. The masculine and feminine sides of King Creole had expressed themselves through them, but the story felt unfinished, like my version of the story was untold.”
That story is, for lack of a better word, complex: at turns triumphant and tragic, sexy and mournful, braggadocious and contemplative. Creole Culture presents Richard’s New Orleans as a utopian soundscape — an intoxicating blend of R&B, soul, hip-hop, pop, and jazz — that’s survived and thrived despite the dystopian circumstances visited upon it. Richard presents the melange of influence and artifact on Creole Culture with the care of a botanist nurturing new hybrids in a rose garden.


What emerges from that care is at once delightful and unexpected, enlisting a crew of guest stars including Big Freedia, Anjelika “Jelly” Joseph, Tarriona “Tank” Ball, and Durand Bernarr for features that play against type. Tank’s turn at spoken word verse on “l v r” serves to add dimension to King Creole’s New Orleans, as does Joseph’s undeniable voice on “chuuuurch.” “I’m not normally a features girl,” says Richard, ”but King Creole can’t build a world from scratch without help. What’s beautiful about the features here — which is also true of my band and producers — is they come from people who understand the materials of the world they’re from, they’re people I love, and they’re people who are just extraordinary at what they do. They’re part of the atmosphere of this place. You need them for the record to breathe.”
In the end, that’s what King Creole creates: a space where Dawn Richard can breathe, can be at peace with herself, and let loose with others. From finding love in opening single “enough” to relishing in the Afrocaribbean futurism of “fiesta,” Creole Culture is a tremendous, freeing breath of fresh air. It captures the resolve of a woman and a place who’ve survived the unimaginable and sees the future not as something to be endured, but as something to be created. Dawn Richard has been making that future one album at a time over the course of her career. Creole Culture is her most stunning one yet.

Creole Culture is the triumphant return of Dawn Richard’s King Creole era. Steeped in history but with its flag planted firmly in the future, Creole Culture pulls elements from Richard’s heritage as a Black and Native American woman who has spent a lifetime making and engaging with music. Following New Breed (2019) and Second Line (2021), Creole Culture is akin to a panel of a triptych: a fully-realized sonic and narrative universe in which Richard, as King Creole, rebuilds her hometown of New Orleans in her image. She not only honors her city for what it was or what it gave her, but stakes a claim for it as a cradle of global culture now and for all time.


Creole Culture follows two acclaimed avant-garde R&B albums with composer Spencer Zahn — the later of which, 2024’s Quiet in a World Full of Noise, found Richard exorcising the specters of grief and trauma in the wake of her father Frank Richard’s health struggles and the killing of her cousin Cisco. It is a softer take on the brass-soaked swagger of Richard’s previous King Creole efforts, an evolution brought about when she realized she had left a crucial viewpoint out of her exploration of New Orleans: her own. “New Breed was the story of New Orleans through my father’s eyes,” Richard explains. “I used his samples, his music, his cultures, his work with Chocolate Milk, his side of the family. Second Line was my mom — her interludes riddled the album with her depiction of what is meant to be a Creole woman in New Orleans. The masculine and feminine sides of King Creole had expressed themselves through them, but the story felt unfinished, like my version of the story was untold.”
That story is, for lack of a better word, complex: at turns triumphant and tragic, sexy and mournful, braggadocious and contemplative. Creole Culture presents Richard’s New Orleans as a utopian soundscape — an intoxicating blend of R&B, soul, hip-hop, pop, and jazz — that’s survived and thrived despite the dystopian circumstances visited upon it. Richard presents the melange of influence and artifact on Creole Culture with the care of a botanist nurturing new hybrids in a rose garden.


What emerges from that care is at once delightful and unexpected, enlisting a crew of guest stars including Big Freedia, Anjelika “Jelly” Joseph, Tarriona “Tank” Ball, and Durand Bernarr for features that play against type. Tank’s turn at spoken word verse on “l v r” serves to add dimension to King Creole’s New Orleans, as does Joseph’s undeniable voice on “chuuuurch.” “I’m not normally a features girl,” says Richard, ”but King Creole can’t build a world from scratch without help. What’s beautiful about the features here — which is also true of my band and producers — is they come from people who understand the materials of the world they’re from, they’re people I love, and they’re people who are just extraordinary at what they do. They’re part of the atmosphere of this place. You need them for the record to breathe.”
In the end, that’s what King Creole creates: a space where Dawn Richard can breathe, can be at peace with herself, and let loose with others. From finding love in opening single “enough” to relishing in the Afrocaribbean futurism of “fiesta,” Creole Culture is a tremendous, freeing breath of fresh air. It captures the resolve of a woman and a place who’ve survived the unimaginable and sees the future not as something to be endured, but as something to be created. Dawn Richard has been making that future one album at a time over the course of her career. Creole Culture is her most stunning one yet.

A new release from the back alleys of Tokyo

"Prior to the vinyl release of the debut work “Vapor Curve”, which suffered a one-year delay due to manufacturing errors, the release of the mini-album “grainy film” has been confirmed."

Following the artist's previous release, this album completely eschews the use of computer-based DAW (Digital Audio Workstation) software. By relying exclusively on a strictly limited setup of hardware—synthesizers, samplers, and delay units—the artist pursues a meticulously woven, highly original take on minimal harmony.

At the core of this record lie exquisite ambient textures and beautifully shimmering synthesizer arpeggios. These are layered with the organic warmth of the sampler, vividly sketching out the contemporary "sound of Tokyo." As the album title suggests, the gritty, Lo-Fi texture of the sampler evokes the imagery of a vintage, low-fidelity film reel in the listener's mind. Pushing further than the predecessor, this approach embraces a more abstract, dubby, and deep soundscape aesthetic, elevating the album's artistry to new depths.

Describing this stoically refined electronic music, Maruyama reveals that it is "music for a cigar." It is not an assertive sound that demands to be the center of attention in the room. Instead, the moment the needle drops, it possesses an overwhelming power to transform the very particles of the room's air. The nostalgic and melancholic melodies, much like the shifting and fading trails of cigar smoke, embody the aesthetic of shogyo mujo (the impermanence of all things). Amidst a constantly changing world, it offers a desire to simply drift away in the slumber of sound—a supreme deep-listening experience guaranteed to transport you.

A clerestory - a bright or "clear" level or "story" - is an upper section of wall, most often in a church punctuated by windows. It is a powerful image for grasping this luminous new music from Jules Reidy. Light casts shadows, of course, and logics of shadowing, mirroring, and distorted reflection - of key importance for Reidy"s work as a whole - inform the sumptuous surfaces of Clerestory. "Shadow Symmetric" is a string quartet commissioned and performed by the JACK Quartet as part of their JACK Studio program. The piece makes simultaneous use of two pitch sets, beginning from the same starting point but expanded using different scaling to produce what Reidy describes as "two offset spectral layers." "Clerestory Windows" offers up a distorted mirror image of the string quartet, arranged as a series of episodes that each remake the material in their own way. It begins with an arrangement of the string quartet material for MIDI strings and voices, repositioning its rigorous harmonic exploration somewhere between the Lovely Music Ltd universe and a 90s RPG soundtrack. This episode derives from Reidy"s installation Inside, Crystals and Circuitry, held in Stockholm in 2025. The piece moves into a lyrical 12-string acoustic guitar air performed at the installation opening, before the strings from the first side reappear. From this emerge flickering arpeggios, achieved by arranging the string quartet material for the RMI, an early digital synthesizer. Clerestory is a meditation on fundamental dynamics of human experience: orientation and disorientation, the hazy borders the hazy borders between the material and the spiritual, and the instability of identity.

Introducing the second release from Principauté de Bowl-Air — PBAVINYL002

Principauté de Bowl-Air is a label founded by DJ Bowlcut, a key figure in supporting Seoul’s underground scene through Seoul Community Radio. The project presents his vision of deep, glitchy minimal house music, woven with the story of a secret micronation hidden in the heart of Seoul.

Following the debut vinyl release, PBAVINYL002 features an original track by DJ Bowlcut alongside reinterpretations by his friends Slowmouth and Furz.

The cover artwork references one of the first K-pop acts to introduce rave sounds to Korean audiences — Seo Taiji and Boys. Their first techno album featured an image of the top of an aluminum can, and PBAVINYL002 draws from the same visual reference. The track “Dig This” also reworks elements from their song “You in Illusions (Techno Taiji Mix).”

The A-side opens with “Falling”, a hypnotic-groove track built around deep synths and designed for afterhours. It works as a perfect DJ tool for gently guiding the crowd into a subtle trance state, further enhanced by the vocal sample “Everybody Falling, Anybody Feel that Falling?”, which pulls listeners into a slow, spiraling moment.

The second A-side track, “Dig This”, takes direct inspiration from one of the earliest K-pop tracks to feature rave stabs, TB-303, and classic rave elements — “You in Illusions (Techno Taiji Mix)”. DJ Bowlcut reuses many of the same samples that Seo Taiji originally layered, reconstructing them into a deep minimal cut with a distinctive Mentasm stab woven into the minimal house framework.

The B-side features remixes by Slowmouth and Furz.

Slowmouth transforms “Falling” into a brighter, more festive exploration that reveals the hidden layers of the original hypnotic groove.
Furz, meanwhile, turns “Dig This” into a funky, dancefloor-ready banger aimed at a wider crowd.

Spiral code is the second album released on An’archives by the Japanese trio archeus, after 2023’s Kusōzu: Nine Death Stages, and their seventh release altogether. It’s also the most staggering evidence yet of the single-minded pursuit of group-sound explored by Keiko Higuchi (voice, drums, percussion, trombone), Shizuo Uchida (4 strings), and TOMO (hurdy gurdy). For two tracks, “awakening, beyond recurrence” and “where points and lines intersect”, they’re joined by Kiyotaka Moriuchi, an improviser who’s played with the likes of Shoko Numao and Ensemble Shippolly, on percussion and darbuka (a goblet-shaped drum played widely across South East Asia).

Always able to scour magic from both their relationships with their instruments, and their non-idiomatic interplay, on spiral code they’ve widened their net further; the results oscillate from humid and claustrophobic blocks of noise to rivulets of tone coursing across post-volcanic landscapes, and on into simple gestures suspended in arctic space. Spiral code was recorded in a single day, on March 20 th 2025, at a studio in Koenji, Tokyo, the morning session with the original trio, and afternoon and evening session with Moriuchi – the first time archeus have played with a guest musician.

When asked about the music archeus makes together, TOMO is quick to isolate the singular characteristics of their collaboration: “we are trying to explore some new, unknown musical vocabulary every time we play. And what we are trying to achieve from every session is something unique, an interesting chemistry or, I should say, alchemical reaction among the three of us.” You can certainly hear that alchemy in the dynamic arc of their performances, the way they seem to be able to switch on a dime and push the music into unexpected terrain, all while sounding intimately archeus. “We have been playing for many years,” TOMO continues, “so I think that among three of us, we can telepathically sense, feel and understand what each of us is trying to express while we are playing.” It’s telling that guest musician Moriuchi fits so effortlessly into the archeus soundworld, able to hitch a ride on the intimate telepathy of Higuchi, Shizuo and TOMO; “I think he gave us some fresh air to our music,” the latter smiles. But that telepathy extends, even, to the name of the album itself, with all members pointing toward spiral imagery when naming the title track, whether TOMO’s evocation of Kundalini serpent imagery and Caduceus, to the spiral shape of DNA, what TOMO calls “the code of life.” It’s certainly deeply entwined music: spiral code is a helix of sound, a cylindrical coiling of possibility.

When one thinks of the terms “mass” and “massive” in music, especially contemporary music, perhaps certain aural images come to mind: generic metal heaviness; dynamics-bereft noise; ear-battering dance floor madness; the multitudinous forms of drone darkness. All of these are massive in their own fashion. However, this newstudio album from 7FO (pronounced “nana f o”), a composer-performer based in northern Osaka, investigates and inhabits a different aspect of the massive. A glorious combination: dense low frequencies; sculpturally condensed blocks of sound, subtly swinging gravitational fields ― and a surprising sense of rolling and rollicking joyfulness and play. “Massive” doesn’t have to mean “dark” ― consider the sun. This is the third 7FO release on EM Records, following the well-received Ryu no Nukegara (Dragon's Husk) (2018). On these 2024-25 recordings, 7FO focuses his drum machines, synths and musical vision into eight compact structures which were partially inspired by the intense essence of American pre-war blues and the shining soul of traditional Ethiopian music, especially the works related to King Solomon and the Queen of Sheba. While not obviously evident, the glowing core of these musics has been captured and condensed here; another inspiration is the massive sculptural 1980s works of Yoshi Wada ― although there are obvious differences, there is a similar material tangibility to the vibration of the air. The final piece, “Shirohebi”, is an update of the b-side of 7FO's 7-inch single "Healing Sword" (2023), featured on Henry Rollins’ radio program. We invite you to experience and enjoy these eight massive blocks of sound, imbued with 7FO’s heartfelt warmth and humour, dense but not dark; shifting, rolling, appearing and disappearing: 7FO once picked up a roadside stone, which split as it sat in his palm. This experience, referenced in the release’s title, hints at the metaphysical magic of music, a realm beyond mere coincidence: even the massive density of stone can split, and reveal the magic within. Available on CD, LP and digital download.

After a career spanning over thirty five years, from UK underground upstarts and outliers, to major success on the international stage - including tours with UK icons Iron Maiden and genre legends Dio - My Dying Bride have themselves become a firmly established pillar of metal history with a refined and influential brand of Death/Doom metal. With enduring popularity across subsequent decades, My Dying Bride remains a productive and captivating vessel for tragedy and despair, with their studio output spanning fourteen full-length albums to date.

As part of the “Peaceville Three”, along with fellow countrymen Paradise Lost and Anathema, My Dying Bride truly became a primary force in highlighting Britain as an epicentre of this Doom revolution of the time, creating a highly distinguishable sound assisted by the inclusion of violin & a more poetic approach to the delivery of morbid and salacious topics, lending an additional air of eccentricity and eloquence to the darkness.

Anthology of Sombre Reflections is an expansive and comprehensive collection of the early and much-celebrated works of the Doom Gods, from the formative deathly rawness of the revered Towards the Sinister demo, ‘God is Alone’ 7” tracks and subsequent debut album, As the Flower Withers, through to the gothic-tinged funereal seductive delights of 1996’s highlight, Like Gods of the Sun.

With the addition of all-time genre classic opuses Turn Loose the Swans, and The Angel and the Dark River also representing My Dying Bride’s much-loved early to 90’s period, the band’s three cult EPs are also featured in this deluxe eight-vinyl boxset, with each record presented on 180gm heavyweight black vinyl. The four studio albums themselves have also been treated to new half-speed masters courtesy of Air Studios.

Accompanying the audio is a 48-page book featuring photographs and artwork, plus new interviews with Andrew Craighan and Aaron Stainthorpe exploring some of the influences and thought-processes behind the creation of such cherished works of the 90s, as well as reflections of their output over this period.

Anthology of Sombre Reflections also contains 2 large posters depicting the Turn Loose the Swans CD artwork image, plus the original poster included in As the Flower Withers. A selection of photo prints of the band from this era are also included.

When everything around is racing blindly toward ruin, change direction and spin as fast as you can until you defy gravity and rise above the ground into blissful madness. "K-drone", the debut album by three renegades—Jakub Šimanský, Michal Vaľko, and Ján Podracký—is like a hallucinatory Calvary with five stations. Each station is a time-loop capsule, a tiny utopia sneering at the phantom progress of the world outside.

The opening track, "Speedrone", is pure vertigo; for seven long minutes, there's nothing to hold onto. Šimanský’s banjo cuts through the air, Vaľko’s hurdy-gurdy sounds like someone scraping a rusted sheet of metal with a handful of nails, and Podracký’s bass recorder hums like a slowly intensifying migraine. "Sine" is like a train journey through a barren wasteland, where the images outside the window constantly repeat like a bad trip. "Pro DJ" starts like a gig in a bar at the end of the line—a gig that never actually goes anywhere. It’s as if all three are locked in a spasm, their repeated motifs turning into haunting earworms. "Alien Radigue" shifts into a strange idyll in a clearing in the middle of the forest, where an unknown bird species trills in the background. The end and definitive dissolution come in "Slush", where everything suddenly slows down. Šimanský plucks a simple guitar melody, Podracký’s harmonica drifts from side to side like a boat gently rocking by the shore, and Vaľko’s hurdy-gurdy drones like a drunken mosquito buzzing around.

"K-drone" sounds like an acid anti-western movie recorded in a tucked-away burrow, like smoke-soaked folk and experimental campfire songs echoing through a deep forest. It evokes Third Ear Band's "Alchemy", it screeches and repeats like some of Henry Flynt's experiments, and you could easily imagine hearing it drifting from one of the windows on the cover of Hala Strana's eponymous album.

Jakub Šimanský is the bard of Czechoslovak guitar primitivism, an earthy folk sommelier whose fingerpicking you may also know from the duo Šimanský Niesner. Michal Vaľko, aka Line Gate, needs no introduction to fans. He has released three albums on mappa, and his hurdy-gurdy meditations hold an important place in the drone and minimalist music scene. "Den", "Apex", and "Trap" have become essential listening. Ján Podracký is a self-taught composer and musician whom you might know from various participatory music projects, such as an orchestra where all the players play diatonic harmonicas. Besides harmonicas, he has long explored a wide range of flutes. In short, a pied piper who will guide you through other worlds.