Cerca:insect

Continually is back with another VA, this time with mysterious friends across borders providing an intriguing journey of sound.

(incl 40p fanzine written by Matt Annis with photographs by Simon Pyke and Ian Brodie) Postpunk Theory is a meticulously curated compilation by the legendary Tony Thorpe, known for his work with The Moody Boys, 400 Blows, and The KLF. These classic tracks were played at parties by Thorpe at the time, making them his personal classics. The compilation features 16 rare and sought-after tracks from the post-punk era, including works by Mark Stewart and The Maffia, Basement 5, 23 Skidoo and more.



Defining post-punk is no easy task. While punk was defined by a raw, rebellious simplicity, post-punk (1978-1986) expanded into a diverse array of sounds and ideas. It maintained punk's independent spirit but embraced experimentation, incorporating influences from various musical and cultural traditions, resulting in a movement far more eclectic and fragmented than its predecessor.

At its core, post-punk broke away from traditional rock structures, blending genres like industrial, goth, and punk-funk with emerging dance music cultures. This era's spirit of innovation and defiance against musical norms continues to inspire, making post-punk a pivotal moment in music history that defies easy categorization.

Tony Thorpe presents Postpunk Theory - Alpha ? is a meticulously curated compilation by the legendary Tony Thorpe, known for his work with The Moody Boys, 400 Blows, and The KLF. These classic tracks were played at parties by Thorpe at the time, making them his personal classics. The compilation features 16 rare and sought-after tracks from the post-punk era, including works by Mark Stewart and The Maffia, Basement 5, 23 Skidoo, African Headcharge, and more.

Growing up in a vibrant musical environment in South London, Thorpe was deeply influenced by the eclectic sounds around him, from jazz-funk to Brit-Funk, and later, the post-punk records he discovered. As Thorpe recalls, "Post-punk was a mishmash of different cultures and ideas. Out of post-punk came dance music culture. That period was the most creative time because the culture was in its experimental phase." This compilation captures that innovative spirit, offering a glimpse into the era that shaped Thorpe's musical journey.

The album comes as a limited 2xLP set, accompanied by an extensive 40-page fanzine. The fanzine, written by Matt Annis (Join The Future), dives deep into the post-punk movement, offering insight and context enriched with striking photographs by Simon Pyke and Ian Brodie.

Dedicated to the captivating essence of feminine expression, this album pulsates with deep bass and raw emotion. This release is more than just notes and beats; it's a celebration of diversity, creativity, and the profound impact of music on our hearts and souls. Each track is a unique reflection of its creator, showcasing an array of styles and perspectives.

Carved out from between the cracks of life over a 2 year period, Low Flung presents his eighth full length album ‘The Wheel’. Together, the 11 tracks provide a space to process and sit with difficult change. This takes the form of microscopic minimalist landscapes. Presented in both audio and physical form as micro grooves on a 12” vinyl.

At times the sound wanders and walks, other times it remains still, clear and precise. The omni-present artifacts found in ‘The Wheel’ are left to breathe a different life during each listen. Drones act like familiar trails losing their path as space transforms like a breeze over a table of sand. Hyper focused spores evolve around blurred waves of time. Electronic tones are captured flowing to the rhythm of a decaying natural world.

‘The Wheel’ is a patchwork of sonic experiments made using modular synthesis, fixed architecture synthesis, Buchla Music Easel (replica), outboard effects, cassette manipulation techniques, samplers and field recordings taken along the texturally rich and historically questionable eastern coastline of Australia.

The tracks have been composed with a materiality that embraces the acoustics of different listening environments. Much like mood, this means each listening experience is unique due to the natural acoustics of your listening space. The sounds on this album embrace this phenomena, creating a rich, visceral listening experience that slowly scratches away at discrete moments of time

Rather than attempting to traverse new sonic fields of experimentation in ‘The Wheel’, the album touches on the various spaces Danny has explored over the past ten years as an Audio Visual artist. Although technically eighth, it would be more fitting to say this album draws a clear line from ‘Blow Waves (2018)’ to ‘Outside The Circle (2020)’ to become the third and final chapter in the expanded non linear, unintentional landscape series. Serendipitous that each was conceived over 2 year periods of time.

While the key focus is sitting with difficult change, this album is also a celebration of any moment you might find yourself in. Good, bad, easy or hard, this album is an attempt to help with feeling content wherever you are along your path. With each cycle a new context.

For their sixth instalment, Lowlife Cartel follow up to their last two compilations (“Pimps Improvisations” in 2018 and “Omnia Vanitas” in 2020) with a new six-track VA named “Kodoku”; a vortical release, both bold and forward-looking, while fully geared for the club environment. Taking its title from a poisonous magic from the medieval Japanese era obtained by placing several venomous insects in a jar and letting them kill one another until only one survives, “Kodoku” - which interestingly also translates as “solitude” - features a cast of producers old and new to the fold including Saverio Celestri, the faceless △, Prince de Takicardie, Tundramane & Ko$te, Solar Alliance and Shampoo.

A staple element of the Lowlife Cartel bunch, Saverio Celestri paves the way and dishes out one of his signature jagged, EBM-informed weapons in “Sundays”. Through this hotchpotch of acid-steeped bass entangled with a frantic newbeat-ish swing and razor-sharp synthwaves, the Italian producer shows off the raw and playful facets of his craft to optimal effect. Unknown contributor △ clocks in with “Crachats de Lune”, a proper ominous banger going straight for the jugular with its clever mix of dusty, drum-laden churn, processed vox stabs and sci-fi-indebted laser bursts flashing by unrelentingly. Tailored for hi-octane action at the defunct Boccaccio or Hacienda, Prince de Takicardie “Jam’on’Acid (House Mix)” blows the winds of euphoria across the club like it was done in 1995. Vibing to a pulsating mix of rabid snares, 303-vehicled charges and mangled vocal samples on a classic free rave tip, throwback material that packs a punch.

Flip it over and here is North-American duo Tundramane & Ko$te shifting the scope to Memphis chopped-and-screwed in true hardcore fashion. Straight-out aggression, “Brick To The Face” lives up to its title, so expect leaving the place with a few teeth out your mouth and a good concussion, though more side effects could appear over repeated listens. A radical U-turn from the previous, Ute.- related triplet Solar Alliance - alias Ekkel, Oprofessionell and Mikkel Rev - bring their dashing trance touch to the comp with “Quest for Kiba”, an uptemp maelstrom for the senses, swirling and whirling up until space and time make no damn sense any more. Topping off that versatile tour de force, Japanese producer Shampoo adds his delectably sensuous spin on the record with the lush, sample-heavy lo-fi appeal of “四季ノ歌”. Unpolished feelgood vibes, sun- streaked soulfulness and deft-handed MPC wizardry are on the menu for this ultimate ride and jolly finale.

Schacke’s Make Them Remember is a point of genesis. From the insectoid trippiness of “Life Is Absurd” to the anthemic martial churning of “Make Them Remember” and the ocean floor pensiveness of “A Future Not Materialized”, the record mapped out the road ahead for not just Schacke, but for Copenhagen techno as a whole – a cornerstone in fast techno.

Young Boy Dancing Group
Young Boy Dancing Group was initiated in 2014 as a mercurial dance collective with an ongoing alternating cast. The group deals critically with modes of dance production, digital culture, originality and institutionalisation. Past performances include the Lithuanian Pavilion at the Venice Biennale 2015 and Manifesta 11 in Zurich, among others. The artwork for Schacke’s “Make Them Remember” is made up of a photo documentation from a performance by the group in Copenhagen in 2016.

The Montréal psych-ambient synth-droners return with Sequence Three, their first album in five years and the final instalment in the group's opening trilogy of records that began with Sequence One in 2019. The spectral supergroup co-founded by Stephen Ramsay (Young Galaxy) and Jace Lasek (The Besnard Lakes), usually joined in some capacity by Lasek's Besnard bandmate Olga Goreas, deliver another dose of its trademark longform slowburn jams, forged from restored vintage synths and analogue electronic gear. Lasek and Ramsay don their seasoned producer hats to apply rockist sound design to minimalist tracks, saturated with tube compression, drenched in pink and brown noise, all queasy modulation, sparse beats, and languorous melodic lines. Evoking a humid dawn on a gas giant, these alien drone anthems meld the numinous transcendentalism of Spiritualized and Cluster with the eroded grit of William Basinski and GAS. Light Conductor has been tagged "heavyweight analogue synth nirvana" by Uncut Magazine and praised for its "fabulous, epic, shimmeringly radiant kosmische" by Electronic Sound, among other accolades. Sequence Three consolidates these strengths, while leaning into the darker disquietude that has always been an undercurrent of Light Conductor's aesthetic. Opener "She Glitters The Dust" fades up slow with intertwining detuned synth loops, a languorous lullaby beat dropping at the 3-minute mark, accompanied by insectoid shimmers and a tease of melody that's eventually given free reign over the song's second half. Aptly titled, it's as if a transmission captured within a cosmic dust cloud has provided the raw material for the band to jam on, tease out, and terrestrialize. An echo of that beat sets the tranced pulse for "Omenize", the centerpiece of Side One and the fulfilment of Light Conductor's one-vocal-track-per-album directive. With layered harmonies by Goreas and Lasek, this is the group at its ethereally anthemic best, the devotional floating-in-space bliss attenuated by another gently warped denouement. "Ghost City Radio" closes out Side One with the band's most overtly anxious tune to date, deceptively stolid in its simple bass guitar riff and filter-swept hi-hat: groove stripped to its minimum as the foundation for an extended spokenword sample of a doomsaying prepper/preacher, a sort of homage to that early hallmark of their Godspeed compatriots, done up through the lens of Light Conductor's inimitably destabilized celestial ambience. (Lasek mixed the most recent two GY!BE albums.) Side Two offers up "High In The Orange Air", a beatless, squelching, bubbling ostinato drone and the album's most orthodox ambient kosmische track. This provides the set and setting for 15-minute closer "Supercontinent", which starts off in similar territory but gradually yields to a submerged and reversed techno pulse pumping through coruscated chordal drone, gaining in woozy mesmeric psych intensity over its inexorable hypnagogic trajectory. Sequence Three rounds out a satisfying trio of full-lengths that Light Conductor has released on Constellation, featuring vibrantly minimal geometric cover art designed by label co-founder Ian Ilavsky that integrates the trilogy as a visual series as well. In keeping with the previous two albums in the set, the Deluxe 180gLP includes a 12"x24" art poster. Thanks for listening.

Madelyn Byrd returns to Glasgow’s Somewhere Press with a hazed set of weightless soundscapes. »Night Rider« opens in widescreen with the chirp of cicadas dancing across a desert landscape, before Shiroishi’s saxophone eventually cuts through the dark like neon. The story Byrd tells is close to their heart: they spent their teenage years in the Sonoran Desert, the vast subtropical expanse spanning parts of Arizona, California, and Mexico. Its seemingly alien landscape — pocked with giant, tree-like cacti and looming rocky outcrops — is lodged in the cultural memory, a quality Byrd draws on as they slowly reveal their poetic narrative.

The album plays like a road movie of sorts, moving through Byrd’s memories and setting them to very different rhythms. Clattering drums emerge on »Of Nature, Of Bodies, Of Dreams«, while Byrd’s soft tones, processed to sound almost otherworldly, glide gently across the metallic clangs. Each track highlights a form of movement: there is the microscopic, insectoid crunch of »Imprint«, where guitar prangs meet Shiroishi’s spirited runs, while »Into Sonoran Pool« creates motion from the atmosphere itself, recreating the thick desert air with shimmering electrical currents and psychedelic processes.

At this point, the album begins to echo Robert Ashley’s late-period theatrical work: compositions that broke with familiar formats, juxtaposing dialogue with knowingly experimental orchestral flourishes. Byrd strikes a similar note through a fusion of poetry, sound design, choral music, and chiming, listless ambient elements that also recall Harold Budd. Budd grew up in the Mojave Desert, which borders the Sonoran, creating an eerie parallel with the moods he conjured throughout his long career.

Byrd finds a similarly aesthetic link to the West Coast landscape, referencing the history of experimental music while establishing their own voice. As the album rides into the sunset with a roar of engines, they offer a distinct vision of pop: »What Is, What Was« integrates a chugging break and ketamised vocal hook, while the finale, »In Perfume, Remember«, lands as a James K-like heartmelter.

My fourth album begins and ends in nature, a space that has continually shaped and inspired my artistic work. I spend much of my time in forests and landscapes, listening, observing, and absorbing the subtle rhythms and structures of the natural environment. These impressions do more than accompany my music; they become an integral part of it, influencing its atmosphere, form, and sonic character. As a result, this has become my most emotional and profound album to date. The journey begins with captured moments from a Mediterranean island. Fragments of distant church bells, the ticking of a clock, and the hum of insects in the sun are gently joined by my piano... In this way, the opening piece, “Time,” serves as an introduction to the central idea behind Ellipsis. The term derives from the Ancient Greek word λλειψις (élleipsis) and refers to the deliberate omission of ἔ words or parts of a sentence.

What remains unsaid can carry just as much meaning as what is spoken. This idea runs like a thread throughout the entire album. A reduction to the essential, yet enriched with the necessary details that continually create space for imagination, personal interpretation, and those emotions that are not prescribed but emerge through the act of listening. Ellipsis exists within this tension between presence and absence, between acoustic and electronic sounds, between nature and the studio, between memory and perception. It is a place where meaning arises not only from what is audible, but also from what remains unspoken.

There is a pivotal scene in “August in the Water” (dir. Sōgo Ishii, 1995) where the surface of a pool turns into a stone wall. The water that gave the protagonist's life its meaning becomes a threat. As you fall through this stone wall, you appear in a set of underwater coral-reef corridors, and one of the most beautiful musical themes begins to play: Aquatic Ambience, composed by David Wise for Donkey Kong Country (1994). It's a theme that represents the weightless vibe of your new deep-sea life, where you go about your mundane errands, collecting bananas while driving on a swordfish, or, as HerzMayhem put it: "Poor monkey... always swimming, never going anywhere..."

Synthetic Water Music is the second of three compilations, following Synthetic Bird Music and timed to mappa's 10th anniversary. As with the birds, it gathers friends of the label, artists who have released with mappa or played our shows. Most of the music is new, made to measure for this compilation, much of it from Central and Eastern European hands. Birds and water mix well, so please feel invited to play them together, creating your own environments.

Where the birds were in one flock, water is dispersed across four chapters. You live your life as a droppity drop: vapour in the heavens, condensing in clouds, falling into a swamp, trickling into the deepest sea.

Tlālōcān (Cassette 1, Side A)
A place of eternal spring, of aquatic energy that nourishes everything and allows all things to bloom. Bubbly and splishy-sploshy, it is full of dripping sounds and moist caverns (“Emerald Pool” by Pauline Anna Strom), a landscape filled with living fountains (“Oh, to be a Fountain” by Eva Sajanová) and winding streams that flow through the area, forming part of its organic architecture. It is also a paradise reserved for those whose deaths were water-related, where the aquatic and terrestrial beings live in symbiosis and perspectives shift rapidly, from observing a single droplet (Shakali, Lau Nau) to dew (Feronia Wennborg & Lucy Duncombe) and on to flowing currents (Visible Cloaks) that gradually transform into river music (Ursula K. Le Guin & Todd Barton).

Nephelora (Cassette 1, Side B)
A celestial anti-gravity sound world made of evaporation, steam and the formation of clouds, as if looking at “The Sky At The Bottom of the Well” (by Natalia Beylis) or at “The Cloud That Never Rains” (by Henrique Vaz).

If a cloud never rains,
it is not a cloud at all, but a veil that parches the earth with its gaze.
It generates only its own shadow —
a looming mass of suspended longing,
a sky that hoards but never yields,
a reservoir that swallows every river and returns nothing but echoes.

The water in this world is often invisible but sometimes all the more present, as Bint Mbareh describes it: “Recently been obsessed with invisible waters because I come from a place where you have to imagine the water is there even though you cannot see a river, a sea, usually no rain, so water is in the air, the voice and the imaginal realm, drought is imagined to be negotiable.”

Žaboglach Zha-bo-glahch (Cassette 2, Side A)
A fusion of Scottish lochs and Slovak ponds: a misty, foul-smelling, swampy realm, the kind of place that swallowed Artax from The NeverEnding Story. Stagnant waters full of decay become a blooming habitat for sirens (“thereby losing the weightless delight of being swept along with it” by Adam Badí Donoval) and beings straddling the line between fauna and flora, inventing their own communication systems (“Water-lily phase” by Action Pyramid).

R'lyeh (Cassette 2, Side B)
A brooding sunken city at the bottom of the ocean. It’s a journey to get there. Let this chapter guide you, from the shore down to the depths, to the gates of an unexplored world that is inherently dark, unfathomable, and beyond the limits of human perception: starting with seasickness ("Seasick" by Nikolaienko), passing through a classic Poe-esque maelstrom ("Flurry at the Whirl-pull" by Atte Elias Kantonen), a gateway into the darkness and emptiness of the ocean floor, and finally traversing the city itself (“last waves of 2025” by Jules Reidy).
But what is pulling you to a place like this that only a few explore and even fewer leave? Maybe “the darkness that water can contain, the expanse of things we don't know and that can trigger fear instincts even as we try to rationalise them and think we are in control of the rest of nature” (“supercritical fluids” by Diane Barbé).

Dive in and surface wherever you like. Always swimming, never going anywhere. Just don’t forget to take water breaks.

P.S. Birds, then water, can you guess what comes next? Synthetic Soil Music, an elegy for insects and worms? Synthetic Glaciers, or maybe Pollinators? Which sounds would you miss the most if they disappeared? Or what if the third one never comes at all, and somebody, or something, makes Synthetic mappa Music instead. Don't you worry, with the right training data, it can all be replicated, better than the real thing.

Layered guitars, synths and wordless vocals set the scenery in this epic, beautiful and introspective solo debut by musical wanderer Lynn Wright.

Wright, who has mostly eschewed developing a fixed artistic identity throughout his already long career, has preferred to remain on the periphery of collaborative projects and behind the scenes. It took until recent times for him to make “Before The Sinking Plains”, which arrives as his first solo recording after decades of traversing underground scenes in New York and beyond. Wright defines the album as “a collection of atmospheric compositions structured as songs or songs masking as atmospheric compositions.”

The album began during a long neurological illness as guitar loops Wright would make each morning in his apartment and let play quietly in the background. At some point he began recording the ones he liked and adding layers of treated guitars, vocals, and synths, and then, eventually, giving them defined structures. The album features none of the aggression of his louder bands and improvisatory projects, but retains the dark hues.

Before The Sinking Plains lives on the familiar peripheries of our post-everything sound world, with elements of everything from washed-out dream pop and atmospheric drone works to sparse noir folk and minimalist vocal composition moving within the linings of Wright's subtle yet grand pieces, creating a perfect backdrop for watching the sky merge with the vast open fields.

Since relocating to Berlin some years ago from New York, he has worked closely with composer Simon Goff, who mixed his current album, as an editor, engineer and composer on various film and recording projects. He also plays lap steel guitar in Swans bassist Dana Schechter’s band Insect Ark. This is just the top of the iceberg when it comes to Wright's collaborations and projects throughout the years.

LP includes double-sided print insert. Thorn Wych makes instruments from tree branches; bowed strings, flutes and percussion that she runs through a chain of loopers, pitch bending glitches and delay pedals. Strange songs sung in tongues, mashed up chewed and spat out. As the adder weaves her way through the dirt and mycelium hum, we play in the mud and converse with insects. 'Aesthesis' is Thorn Wych's debut LP that she recorded and mixed herself at home, often performing long improvised pieces, then later editing them down, cutting and pasting and overlaying other instruments. This album takes inspiration from such works as 'The Secret Book of John', the 1940 film 'The Thief of Bagdad', and Lata Mangeshkar's 'Meera Bhajans'. She dedicates her work to the Divine Mother Asherah, Holy Spirit, Guardian of the Tree of Life.

This next manifestation of Corvus Corone is a project featuring one As’teka tribal original and 3 collaborators with their own take. All RMX’s are different but stay within the parameters of the original and the label. Get two 12“ and mix for an endless experience.
A trip into the dark heart of the jungle where evil could be lurking anywhere. Are those birds or bats? Was that a gigantic insect crawling? Was that shadow moving? Did you hear that voice? Arghh, is it day or nite? What day is it? I am getting stuck in quicksand - I...am...being...sucked...in...

Die Deluxe-Vinyl-Edition des letzten Albums von TBF. Enthält die zwei LPs (Horrorful Heights) plus eine weitere LP (Horrorful Offal) in einem schönen Schuber mit Stanzung sowie eine Download-Karte. Diese besondere Deluxe-Ausgabe vereint "Horrorful Heights" mit dem begleitenden Bonus-Album "Horrorful Offal" (11-Song-Extra-Album mit Outtakes und Sessiontracks). Horrorful Heights markiert ein beeindruckendes neues Kapitel im umfangreichen Werk von The Bevis Frond und zeigt die anhaltende Kreativität des Songwriters, Gitarristen und Frontmanns Nick Saloman, der nun in ein weiteres Jahrzehnt als Musiker startet. Seit langem als eine der markantesten Stimmen des britischen Underground-Rock etabliert, verfeinert Saloman weiterhin die Qualitäten der Band aus melodischer Psychedelia, drahtigen Gitarrenepen und Songwriter-Kunst. Einer der zugänglichsten Einstiege in die Bevis Frond Welt, welcher alle Stärken zu einem zusammenhängenden, lebendigen Ganzen vereint. Das Album bewegt sich fließend zwischen klirrendem Psych-Pop, schweren Gitarrenriffs und pastoralen Träumereien. Die Bandbreite des Albums ist groß, aber klar definiert. "Draining The Bad Blood" erinnert an den klassischen Bevis-Frond-Stil melodisch inspirierten Gitarrenpops der 60er Jahre, "Space Age Eyes", eine prägnante neunminütige Odyssee, verweist auf die transzendentalen Erkundungen des elektrischen Miles Davis der 70er Jahre. Der mit Sitar untermalte Titeltrack driftet durch rauchige Psychedelia mit mehrstimmigem Gesang und geschichteten Tablas - ein liebevolles Echo der Headshop-Mystik, mit der Saloman während der gesamten Bandgeschichte gespielt hat. An anderer Stelle verbindet "Mossback's Dream" lysergische Leads mit der treibenden Energie des amerikanischen Hardcore der 80er Jahre und schafft so einen Hybrid, der sowohl zeitlos als auch völlig eigenständig wirkt. Weitere Höhepunkte sind das von den Byrds beeinflusste "Buffaloed", das wirbelnde "Silver Insects" und "That's Your Lot", ein rasantes Feuerwerk melancholischer Euphorie und einer der unmittelbarsten Songs des Albums. Obwohl eklektisch anmutend, ist es ein fokussiertes Porträt von The Bevis Frond im Jahr 2025 - vital, melodisch und frei von Nostalgie. Saloman beschreibt die Sammlung ganz einfach: die besten Songs, die er in den letzten Jahren geschrieben hat, entstanden ohne Zwang und ganz instinktiv. Das Ergebnis ist ein Höhepunkt aus der Spätphase einer der stillsten einflussreichen Underground-Bands Großbritanniens.

Keith Freund’s music occupies a space where careful musicianship and homebrewed experimentation meet and shake hands. On “Window Left Open,” spacious melodies drift through dense fields of electronic activity: saxophone lines rise above buzzing circuitry, percussion flickers at the edges of the frame, and clustered glitch textures dart through the music like insects in tall summer grass. Every sound feels vividly animated, a charged part of the same mercurial ecosystem.

Freund’s talent lies in balancing warmth and unpredictability with remarkable ease. Patient motifs recall the exploratory spirit of early folktronica, while bit-reduced textures, degraded loops, and idiosyncratic synthesis techniques continually reshape the terrain beneath them. Rather than treating acoustic and electronic elements as opposing forces, Freund allows them to intermingle until distinctions dissolve, creating compositions that reward close listening while retaining immediate warmth. This record finds Freund working with a fully formed vocabulary that is truly his own, transforming glitch, melody, improvisation, and atmosphere into songs that are both fundamentally curious and disarmingly engaging.

Celebrate a decade of a modern masterpiece. Originally released to critical acclaim, DJ Shadow’s The Mountain Will Fall gets a definitive reissue for its 10th Anniversary. Featuring the explosive, Gold-certified hit "Nobody Speak" featuring Run The Jewels, this album remains a towering achievement in instrumental hip-hop and experimental electronic production. This special anniversary edition is pressed on 2 x 140g classic black vinyl, delivering the rich, warm analog sound the album deserves. The release is housed in a stunning gatefold jacket showcasing brand-new artwork by the renowned artist Paul Insect, complete with premium spot gloss hits that make the visual design pop.

After releasing some of the most interesting deep ambient techno of the past decade as part of Varuna, Swiss artist Mario turns up the tempo and energy to present his solo debut EP - Devil's Hole Mine.

With bloated souls and skeletal bodies the three mad kings of the end times walk among us, with empty eyes and insatiable hunger. Innocence thieves, blood collectors, bastard children of archaic dynasties built upon the broken bones of the weak. Their consorts are the rotten and the dead, their champions soulless, empty vessels gasping for validation as they bathe in the nectar of inflicted pain. They lead us not into temptation, but into degradation and the all-consuming fire. Born in the heat and shadows of the Australian underground, in Brisbane in 2014, Graveir have carved out a stronghold for themselves in their homeland's black metal scene. Bleak, violent and uncompromising, their music possesses a powerful individuality that sees them following their own path, lone wolves in a world of people searching frantically for a voice to tell them how to think and what to believe. After their powerful 2016 debut, Iconostasis and its critically acclaimed successor, King Of The Silent World, hailed as 'captivatingly hypnotic' by Metal Bite, Graveir are poised to unleash their third set of black prophecies - The Festering Triad. The Festering Triad begins with the sinister 'Lords Of Misrule', rising from the silence with guitars like an insect swarm before a lugubrious, dolorous shift into life and movement. The song holds you on the edge of oblivion, a constant aura of threat radiating from its broken beauty. There's a powerful underlying melody too, but it's corrupted and riddled with disease. And while this unsettling and disorientating introduction to The Festering Triad is still crawling through your veins, 'A Futile Exhortation' bursts into flame - as implacable and unstoppable as the passage of time, formed from the seething darkness on the edge of chaos and touched by something ancient and primal. You are now in the heart of darkness, jagged riffs circling like atavistic, feral presences, hammering blast beats disrupting natural rhythms. Nothing is as it should be. Nothing stays within the expected boundaries. This is a malicious attack on the laws that govern reality. 'A Thief In The Heart Of Man' flies at you in a howl of rage and bloodlust; you can feel its desperate need to tear you apart and the inherent danger is exhilarating. Title track, 'The Festering Triad' arrives swathed in an aura of decaying majesty, a triumvirate of wickedness wreathed in flame, marching onwards, entwined in black briars of unease - on into twisted soundscapes of fear and dizzying anxiety, through boiling malignancy and relentless intensity to the finale of 'The Rite Of Degradation', where portentous grandeur and bestial hunger combine in bewildering, schizophrenic fury. This album is fuelled by a determination to leave you broken, beaten and humbled - and it succeeds, absolutely.

2026 Repress

Traversing wormholes and flexing versatility, Nicola Cruz gets back on his club-ready biz.

No proper introductions needed here. Sometimes you just have to sit back and appreciate someone at the top of their game. The third portal thing, done masterfully. Hats off.

Time-honoured templates that provide the foundations for his hybrid mutations. Three mescaline-strength techno incursions backed up with a vivid projection of fractal electro.

Big on murk. Properly steeped in introspection, expanding consciousness and horizons. The vision quest endures for the duration.

New levels of insectoid detail and lysergic flourish revealed with every close listen, but he’s always keeping it robust. Giving it chest with some serious dancefloor dramatics until the final unfurling.

2x12" 2024 Repress

Mike Cooper returns to Discrepant with The Dream Island of Birds, a release that blurs the lines between memory, field recording, and reimagined sound.

In the early 1990s, Cooper met illustrator and writer Charles van Sandwyk while walking on a small island in Fiji. Van Sandwyk was living there quietly, working from a modest bamboo house near the beach. Years later, Cooper learned that following a serious car accident, van Sandwyk experienced vivid dreams during his recovery — one of which became a small illustrated book titled The Dream Island of Birds. A signed postcard from that book still hangs in Cooper’s studio.

In 2012, Cooper spent a month as artist-in-residence on Pulau Ubin, a small island between Singapore and Malaysia, recording birds and insects across the island. Home to more than 300 resident and migratory bird species, Pulau Ubin provided the source material for this album, later combined with electronics and digital processing. The track titles reference some of the island’s more evocatively named birds, though the sounds themselves are not literal representations. One piece is not derived from live birds at all, but imagined entirely through electronic means.

Neither documentary nor abstraction, The Dream Island of Birds sits between field recording, memory, and invention — an island heard through time and circuitry.

“Dressed In Black” was curated and annotated by Cathi Unsworth, author of the book Season Of The Witch: The Book of Goth – a woman who considers herself fortunate to have had Siouxsie Sioux, Lydia Lunch and Diamanda Galàs for role models while she was growing up. For further illumination in Cathi’s own words, read on.

“The music gathered here is an aural manifestation of turbulent times, made by women possessed of supernatural abilities. The music I fell in love with emerged from the dark end of the 1970s: The Winter of Discontent of 1978-79, when intractable industrial action left the dead unburied and mountains of rubbish in the streets. All the promise of punk came to a brutal end with the deaths of Sid and Nancy in New York; IRA bombs exploded in central London and a seemingly uncatchable ripper roamed West Yorkshire with 13 murders under his belt. Ill omens that augured badly for the events of 3 May 1979, when Margaret Thatcher became our first woman prime minister. Dressed in blue and ready to whip the country to her heel.

“But at night, malcontent youth were united by forces of opposition, whose dissenting voices were aired across the land on John Peel’s Radio 1 show, set to the sound of slasher guitars, swirling fairground keyboards, loping basslines and percussion that recalled the echo of jackhammers or the march of insect feet. Here, punk’s unruly offspring distilled the dissonance of the times into a new kind of music. Flirting with the fetishist and taboo, drawing upon horror and science fiction imagery, they were the outlaw leaders of the greatest style tribe of the decade: the goths. Dressed in black, these kohl-eyed women voiced the alienation of their generation during the decade of the Cold War, the Miners’ Strike, privatisation and AIDS.

“To make sense of the absurd is genius enough. But to then cast the glamour of sublime music around those insights – I come back to my point about supernatural abilities. I hope you will find illumination within. You know the dress code.”

'The Endless Dance' is the first collaborative album from Northern Irish producer and composer Hannah Peel and Chinese percussionist Beibei Wang. The record is grounded in the strength of ancient concepts, but comes alive with the joy and freedom of play as together, Peel and Wang travel through the 24 solar terms of the Chinese calendar with a cornucopia of sound in tow – synths and prepared piano alongside traditional and unconventional percussion.

The album is collaged together from recordings made over five days at legendary rural studio Real World, a setting which aligned with the duo’s inspiration from the natural world creating a permanent record of their shared musical landscape, informed by the flora and fauna that emerge and retreat through the seasons.

Both genre-defying, storied artists in their own right, Peel and Wang met while working on Manchester Collective’s 2023 album NEON and 'The Endless Dance' certainly represents a step-change from the duo’s shared classical backgrounds – but their knowledge and training is also the foundation of its freewheeling audacity, giving them the confidence to trust their instincts.

The album is produced by Mike Lindsay LUMP, Tunng, Guy Garvey, Jon Hopkins who, with free rein, brings added energy and creativity to the album, whilst Peel & Wang are also joined by Hyelim Kim on Daegeum, a Korean flute with “colourful overtones on every note”.

Track to track, 'The Endless Dance' is unpredictable and unexpected, which is in part due to the genuine curiosity and outside perspectives that each player brought to the sessions. “I am so familiar with Chinese heritage, but I don't see how it can present in electronics, for instance,” says Wang. “Hannah comes in with that direction, to imagine what the sounds could be together.” The characterful richness of the album stems from the commonalities they found in the sessions. “We both come from cultures where story is really important,” explains Peel. “The attention to detail comes from telling a story, and one note can set that off in a different direction.”

'The Endless Dance' is a major work from two accomplished, singular artists - but it’s also the sound of mutual curiosity and shared fun, or as Wang puts it: “Two women talking in totally different language that had a wonderful chat.”

Release 75. Reptant’s third. The reptilian overlord surfaces only once every 25 – right on the jubilee, without fail.

Combining menace and kitsch the way only the Rotterdam greats do so effortlessly, he comes in smooth af on the opening cut. Mainframe-tapping machine funk, almost sounding like the Antipodean lovechild of Kraftwerk and Egyptian Lover.

From there, laced with spite and insectoid detail. Noirish cybernetics delivered with genuine vigour, all across a triple-pronged strike of electro excellence. Properly aerodynamic.
Not a tribute to a classic period – rather, a continuation of what the genre’s forebears built. A tried and tested formula that never loses bite, truly heralding Reptant as a standard bearer for electro in the modern era.
The cold-blooded one, right on schedule.

‘Since the 16th century, the Ecuadorian province of Esmeraldas has been home to a unique Afro-Indigenous culture originating in the integration of the Indigenous Chachi and Nigua peoples with African Maroon communities. Juyungo documents significant Esmeraldan artists and bands playing the Afro-Ecuadorian folklore of the province, as well as including some older field recordings. Based mostly on the marimba, whose origins lie partly in the African balafon, partly in Indigenous percussion instruments, the music is laced with call and response chants, ambient insect and bird noise, the filigree finger-styles of the Andean guitar tradition and the panpipes of the mountains. This is resonant insider roots music at its headiest — the mystic revelation of Esmeraldas, gully deep and lustral.’
- Francis Gooding, The Wire.


The fifth in our series of LPs compiling classic music from Ecuador. Customary Honest Jons runnings: a beautiful gatefold sleeve; superior pressing, with vivid, intimate sound; full-size, sixteen-page booklet, in colour throughout, with detailed, fascinating, bi-lingual notes, and stunning photographs.

The music is transfixing, magical; not like anything else. From start to finish, this album is continuously, profoundly immersive; a kind of journeying, trippy meditation about slavery and cultural resistance, identity and mix, places and spaces, futures and pasts. It’s inscrutable to net-surfing, algorithms, Shuffle. But for a taste try the insurgent marimba roller Agua Largo, jet-propelled by Rosa Huila’s rapturous blend of African spiritualist and Christian chant. ‘Healing music,’ Zakia called it on Gilles Peterson’s BBC show recently. And the ravishing pasillo Kasilla Shungulla — ‘calm your heart’ in the Quichua language — a duet between the Peruvian master-guitarist Raúl García Zárate and viola da gamba by Juan Luis Restrepo from Medellin, recorded in a baroque church in Buzbanza, Colombia.

A cocktail of rebellious queer vocal fragments, deceptive percussive granules and swaying hammered vibrations, upsammy and Valentina Magaletti's first collaboration trembles with suspense. The seeds of 'Seismo' were sown following a commission from Amsterdam's Rijksmuseum to soundtrack an exhibition of work from the Museum Boijmans van Beuningen in Rotterdam and the duo didn't want to approach their collaboration flippantly. So, wandering the museum's maze of rooms, they recorded various improvised percussive sounds with their arsenal of microphones, using the space to inform various rhythms and textures that were sculpted later into electroacoustic vignettes. This was just the starting point, though; as Magaletti and upsammy began performing together, the project evolved and 'Seismo' began to take shape. The duo had struck on a salient aesthetic concept, using mostly digital and acoustic mallet instruments to blur the boundary between their roles and create friction between the synthetic and the authentic. And the finished record is a phantasmagoric push-and-pull between its various conflicting elements: harmony and dissonance, randomness and predictability, openness and constraint. 'Seismo' isn't the first time that upsammy has studied her environment in search of revelation. On her acclaimed second album, 2024's 'Germ in a Population of Buildings', the Amsterdam-based DJ, producer and multidisciplinary artist erected her complex, unorthodox rhythms and eerie melodies around a modernist frame of field recordings collected in various cityscapes, countering heavyweight basslines with subtle, microscopic sounds. London-based Italian vanguard Magaletti, meanwhile, has applied her unique logic to innumerable projects at this point, working with everyone from batida icon Nídia and hardcore-dub outfit Moin to French writer Fanny Chiarello and British bass scientist Shackleton. For years she's approached the drums with criticism, attempting to challenge any preconceptions, something that's most visible on 2020's 'A Queer Anthology of Drums'. And both artists' thoughtful perspectives are welded together seamlessly on 'Seismo', a dizzying suite of eight eccentric statements that's fragile but never insecure, gauzy but not indistinct. An unnerving sense of space characterizes 'It Comes to an End' as Magaletti's in situ improvisations herald for upsammy's microscopic glitches and chiming pitch-bent melodies. It's almost unbalancing to witness the track's impossible dimensionality, the interplay between reverberant marimba hits and bone-dry synths, or percussion that's been recorded and processed in consciously different settings. A new architecture emerges in the sound itself that the two artists scan and explore meticulously, testing its boundaries with undulating hybridized rhythms on the invigorating 'Superimposed' and offsetting the powdery drums with liquified smacks and alien voices. The duo's vibrations are knotted with piano flourishes on 'Hyperlocalize', balanced with artificial clanks and clangs that disappear into the track's sonorous atmosphere, replaced by whispers and half-hallucinated insectoid chirps. 'Seismo' is an album that feeds off the energy generated by its juxtapositions: the tension and anticipation that's melted by rapid, hyperactive movement and the finely drawn rhythms disrupted by a layer of indistinct, barely perceptible microsounds. It's a collaboration that sounds like two minds challenging each other but not wrestling, each peering from their own distinct vantage point and imagining a third landscape shaped by optimistic, queer vibrations.

Horrorful Heights markiert ein beeindruckendes neues Kapitel im umfangreichen Werk von The Bevis Frond und zeigt die anhaltende Kreativität des Songwriters, Gitarristen und Frontmanns Nick Saloman, der nun in ein weiteres Jahrzehnt als Musiker startet. Seit langem als eine der markantesten Stimmen des britischen Underground-Rock etabliert, verfeinert Saloman weiterhin die Qualitäten der Band aus melodischer Psychedelia, drahtigen Gitarrenepen und Songwriter-Kunst. Einer der zugänglichsten Einstiege in die Bevis Frond Welt, welcher alle Stärken zu einem zusammenhängenden, lebendigen Ganzen vereint. Das Album bewegt sich fließend zwischen klirrendem Psych-Pop, schweren Gitarrenriffs und pastoralen Träumereien. Die Bandbreite des Albums ist groß, aber klar definiert. "Draining The Bad Blood" erinnert an den klassischen Bevis-Frond-Stil melodisch inspirierten Gitarrenpops der 60er Jahre, "Space Age Eyes", eine prägnante neunminütige Odyssee, verweist auf die transzendentalen Erkundungen des elektrischen Miles Davis der 70er Jahre. Der mit Sitar untermalte Titeltrack driftet durch rauchige Psychedelia mit mehrstimmigem Gesang und geschichteten Tablas - ein liebevolles Echo der Headshop-Mystik, mit der Saloman während der gesamten Bandgeschichte gespielt hat. An anderer Stelle verbindet "Mossback's Dream" lysergische Leads mit der treibenden Energie des amerikanischen Hardcore der 80er Jahre und schafft so einen Hybrid, der sowohl zeitlos als auch völlig eigenständig wirkt. Weitere Höhepunkte sind das von den Byrds beeinflusste "Buffaloed", das wirbelnde "Silver Insects" und "That's Your Lot", ein rasantes Feuerwerk melancholischer Euphorie und einer der unmittelbarsten Songs des Albums. Obwohl eklektisch anmutend, ist es ein fokussiertes Porträt von The Bevis Frond im Jahr 2025 - vital, melodisch und frei von Nostalgie. Saloman beschreibt die Sammlung ganz einfach: die besten Songs, die er in den letzten Jahren geschrieben hat, entstanden ohne Zwang und ganz instinktiv. Das Ergebnis ist ein Höhepunkt aus der Spätphase einer der stillsten einflussreichen Underground-Bands Großbritanniens.

Renowned producer, dj, artist and author Justin Robertson fresh from the success of his Five Green Moons project joins forces with composer and Stone Club co-founder Matthew Shaw on their tribute to mythical band MineralTail. An 11 track cosmic trip through krautrock, weird ambience and loose-limbed grooves that accompanies the story contained in Justin's new novel of the same name. Expect hypnotic electronics and ritualistic rhythms, swirling melodies and glorious riffs.

'Critics agree that the greatest album ever recorded is the self-titled debut by the MineralTail. Recorded after the extinction of humanity by the combination of a Megalithic stone and two dogs, the record remains peerless in its ingenuity, passion and inventiveness. An album that consistently remains at the top of all rankings and charts. Though all such accolades are meaningless, nonetheless its enduring appeal is obvious. Here, at last is the first reliable account of how that record was made. The recording techniques, the creative disputes, the true source of the sound. It is a story of sublime inspiration, skulduggery, time travel, beauty and conflict. But most importantly it is the story of music itself. Because held within the grooves of the MineralTail's breathtaking debut is the voice of God's most dazzling accident. Music.'

Chalybeate documents a month long stay by Tokyo based producer aus in Ikaho, one of Japan's most established Onsen (hot spring) towns, during autumn 2024.

Working from field-recordings captured inside multiple ryokan baths, aus synthesized the subterranean movement of the onsen's with local details: the bubbling of source water, the hoozuki lantern plants and wind chimes placed at each inn, and the surrounding insects and birds. Rather than portraying Ikaho as a landscape, the recordings trace the town's respiration.

The material was first presented on site as an installation unfolding across eight different baths, where visitors listened while soaking in roten-buro (open air hot baths). The project drew wide attention for proposing listening as a bodily act, inseparable from heat, moisture, and duration.

Chalybeate re constructs that installation as an album. The recordings were left to sit for a year within Ikaho's air and humidity, allowing the sound itself to slowly change. The title refers to Ikaho's iron rich mineral water, known as "Golden Water," which oxidizes upon contact with air and leaves rust colored traces in its baths. Following this process, the album's sound was repeatedly re submerged and re worked, gradually absorbing a corroded texture.

Tape hiss, gentle distortion, and subtle fluctuations rise quietly, like steam.
What remains is not documentation but residue.

Mixing was handed over to Manchester based producer The Humble Bee by Craig Tattersall, known for his work with The Boats and The Remote Viewer, after aus exhausted himself traversing Ikaho's steep stone steps. The exchange mirrors the work itself: from bathtub to hot spring, from sound to something that surrounds the body.

Woodwind like tape noise and the movement of water dissolve into one another.
The music does not arrive all at once. It settles slowly, as if lowering into warm water.

Berlin scene figurehead Gilles Aiken, AKA Edward, coming through with a massive Kalahari debut (and it’s safe to say he understood the assignment).

Booting off on a massive remix tip as the veteran producer reinterprets Mike Parker & Aric Rist’s Trybet project, but trust him to allow for a moment of dancefloor introspection. It’s prime early morning gear in a rousing juxtaposition of beatific string harmony and tough-as-nails deepness. Triumphant ‘window shutters open in the club at 5 AM’-type shit.

The other two are quintessential Edward: impressionistic, widescreen odysseys across lysergic terrain, but groove-forward where it counts. A pair of head-spinning explorations intended for the dancefloor, flush with shadowy flex, insectoid detail and tripped-out flourishes while keeping it funked-out in the tradition of Detroit.

The ‘Deep Sea Villain EP’ plumbs the depths of smudged abstraction, and as we’ve come to expect from Edward, it’s big on hallucinatory detail. It all oozes the multi-layered surrealism that typifies his best work. Proper transcendent biz.

'In 2023, sound artist and composer Weston Olencki toured across the American South. Beginning in their hometown in South Carolina, they snaked a circuitous path from the mountains of West Virginia to the banks of the Mississippi River. As the miles accumulated, so did the initial seeds of new work.
'Instruments and artifacts they acquired hitched a ride in the backseat, while songs and sounds filled their portable recorder: water in its various states, the familiar insectoid buzz of those summer nights, trains cutting through the landscape, the traditional music that lived alongside the communities that kept it. Olencki took it all in, and over time, found ways that these experiences coalesced into a bramble-like perspective of time, where past, present, and future intersect in ways both barbed and beautiful.
'Broadsides, Olencki’s newest solo full-length is the multilayered result of this journey. The album follows their landmark release Old Time Music from 2022, which presented radical interpretations of traditional tunes from Appalachia and throughout the South alongside original compositions that drew significantly on archival recordings. On Broadsides, Olencki rejects delineations between the unmoored avant-garde and the rootedness of one’s cultural heritage, revealing their porous and intertwined nature. “My mother was a quilter. Her mother before that,” they write in the album’s liner notes. “Quilting, like music, is a practice of embedding knowledge and remembrance into the very core of the thing you are making. It’s not just about the materials, but how they’re reassembled, recontextualized, stitched, woven to form new patterns - the minutiae of craft holding significance to those looking to find it. Stories woven from stories, never told the same way twice.”
'Like all great road trips, Broadsides unfolds slowly and continuously, with moments of dramatic reverie punctuating the endless melt of highway in the rearview. We’re immediately confronted by the uncanniness of revisiting old haunts, as Southern storms break through the initial churn of the freight locomotives of Alabama. Olencki’s interpretation of the bluegrass standard “Foggy Mountain Breakdown” captures the euphoria of melancholy in motion. The permutational plucks of banjo are bounced around the frame by a computer, its pitches determined within algorithmic sequences and transcriptions of classic three-finger licks. The tonalities of old-time are smeared and stretched until all that’s audible is the insistence that Heaven might be real.
'In the album’s second half, “Omie Wise,” a murder ballad made famous by Doc Watson, follows an interlude recorded on the river in North Carolina in which the titular character’s body was laid. Ghostly echoes of a dozen other renditions float through the substrata as Tongue Depressor’s Henry Birdsey accompanies them on the pedal steel guitar. The album’s central composition, “all my father’s clocks,” is a profound meditation on entropy and impermanence. The sound of their father’s extensive clock collection ticks away as Olencki pulls a bow across the length of an autoharp sourced from a rural strip mall. The instrument was left as detuned as it was found, the resonance of its deep bass drone and clanging high-end the result of years of neglect and the warping effects of Southern humidity.
'Historically, broadsides were an early form of broadcasting, an often- musicalized telling of current news pasted in the public square. The name was later taken up by Sis Cunningham and Gordon Friesen in the 1960s, whose Broadside magazine published songs and social commentary when American folk music resurfaced as an urgent way of communicating the multifaceted politics of its time.
'Olencki borrows the phrase to recall both this old form of songmaking and that later prominent reexamination of traditional music’s role in modern life, but also to draw attention to the fragmented and machine- mediated way heritage is diffused in this very different, but no less pivotal, moment.
'As a sanitized past is used as justification for current violence and domination, we can turn to these artifacts to better understand the history of ourselves, but only if they are consciously pushed to evolve. Broadsides represents one personal, striking vision of what far-flung futurisms could be respun from = these high, lonesome sounds: a reflection of the unbridled joy and deep sorrow inherent to living together through time, and a desire to push further into the untold and unknown.'

Montreal indie rock trio Plants and Animals announce "The Jungle", their fifth studio album set to be released October 23rd via Secret City Records. Their shortest album yet and certainly their boldest, "The Jungle" is eight acts in a world full of noise. The album is auto-produced and was recorded at Mixart, their studio in Montreal. The band explains : "We started working on this a couple of years ago. Warren was afraid for a friend's health. He thought he was self-medicating too much and not taking care of himself. He couldn't let go of this image of an overworked dude swallowing too many sleeping pills and falling asleep with the stove on. So it began as the place next door, sometime before Greta Thunberg turned the expression into a rallying cry, where Earth is the house and the people are sleeping. It's terrifying, and on the whole we're not unlike this friend, are we?" "The Jungle" starts with electronic drums that sound like insects at night. A whole universe comes alive in the dark. It's beautiful, complex and unsettling. Systematic and chaotic. All instinct, no plan. Voices taunt,"yeah yeah yeah." This tangled time in which we find ourselves is reflected back in shadows. Every song is such a landscape. The first one grinds to a halt and you become a kid looking out a car window at the moon, wondering how it's still on your tail as you speed past a steady blur of trees. You watch a house go up in a yellow strobe that echoes the disco weirdness of Giorgio Moroder, Donna Summer and David Bowie. You get pummelled by a rhythm then set free by a sudden change of scenery_the wind stops, clarity returns. You're under a streetlight in Queens, soft-focus, slow motion, falling in love. You speak French now too, in case you didn't already. Bienvenue. These are personal experiences made in a volatile world, and they reflect that world right back at us, even by accident. There's one song Nic sings to his teenage son who was dealing with climate change anxiety and drifting into uncharted independence. The band carries it out slowly together into a sweet blue horizon. Warren wrote the words to another shortly after losing his father. It's about the things we inherit not necessarily being the things we want. In a broader sense, that's where a lot of people find themselves right now.