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Liva K and OVEOUS unite for transcendent new single, ‘Blessings’, on Crosstown Rebels. Out on 27th March 2026, the Greek producer and NYC-based artist deliver a hypnotic journey of spiritual rhythm and soulful energy.

A groove-driven journey arrives on Crosstown Rebels on 27th March, with Greek DJ/producer Liva K and New York DJ/producer and vocalist OVEOUS guiding the way. Their label debut, ‘Blessings’, emerges as a meeting of instinct and intention. Crafted from Liva K’s fusion of sounds and textures, the track flows with captivating suspense, while OVEOUS’ voice carries a magnetic, ritualistic weight. The result is a record that exists in both body and mind, designed to move crowds while resonating on a deeper, spiritual plane.

Liva K has quietly carved his own path since emerging onto the international scene, weaving melodic house and techno, and Afro-infused rhythms into sets and productions that pulse with movement and depth. From his debut album ‘1994’ to recent material on Defected, Black Book Records, and When Stars Align, he balances studio craftsmanship with spontaneity while creating moments across venues from Hï Ibiza to Miami’s Factory Town. Meanwhile, OVEOUS brings his HYPER SOUL and Hyper Ancestral sound to every stage and recording, merging house, afro-soul, and ritualistic energy. As a DJ, producer, and poet, his voice and presence cut through tracks with spiritual weight, turning grooves into experiences that are simultaneously sensual, reflective, and kinetic. providing moments that resonate long after the lights come up.

“Al destino”, the new album by Steve Pepe, began to take shape in 2023 after roughly a year of highly abstract sound research. The original intention was to create a dancefloor-oriented record, moving away from down-tempo structures, built around minimal, percussive compositions and high BPMs, with sound conceived primarily as a functional element.
In 2024, however, the process shifted. Less time was spent producing and more time reflecting. Emotions hovered between the urgencies of the present and unresolved past traumas, and almost without conscious intention, singing returned to the center of the project. It was not a calculated choice, but an inevitable one.
The resulting album does not draw its energy from distant places, nor does it focus on sonic experimentation as an end in itself. Instead, Al destino offers an intimate perspective on how memories and emotions shape the inner self, on the sensation of being simultaneously alone and deeply connected to everything, and on the struggle to reconcile feelings, sensations, love, and desire.

Bristol duo Pume Orenge unspool a world of spectral electronica from cassette loops and instrumental improvisation on their debut album Angel By Milo for Odda Recordings.

It is a world that opens draped in ferric hiss. A fog of sound, dense and yet not quite there, catching the light in strange shades and ambient drifts. Looping and receding, looping and receding, as pucks of static burst like faraway fireworks on a cold winter’s night. Sound sources obscured, ambiguous, not quite what they seem.

Angel By Milo takes its lead from the analogue process and textures by which it was made. Percussive and melodic loops were established, manipulated and responded to with instrumental improvisation, in a give-and-take with the materiality of the medium.

Across these seven intricately developed tracks, the sound fluctuates between the cinematic and the introspective, at times melancholy, at others verging on a kind of restrained anger, before the calm sets in once more. It is music for the small hours, awash with the grainy stuff of memory.

Embedded within Bristol’s independent scene, Pume Orenge’s quiet debut also speaks to the duo’s shared roots in the area, and like many of Odda’s previous releases, contains a sensitivity to place and atmosphere, even when these are no more than implied.

Angel By Milo builds on the DIY ethos of Pume Orenge's 2023 self-titled debut EP, whose tracks were recorded live in single takes, now honing a more intentional, purposeful approach to music making. It is one in which layers of meaning are allowed to reveal themselves, a way of composing that makes a virtue of its labour and the chance occurrences that can arise in the process.

This is music in praise of shadows. Of the things we can’t quite see, the feelings we can’t quite grasp. Heard through the haze, or maybe not at all.

Vakula presents a new 4-track release: fully-formed electronic compositions built with weight, depth, and intention.These pieces aren’t just for the dancefloor — but under the right DJ, they can still shift the room.

With the Hormesis EP, Alric Aerial explores the delicate threshold between pressure and growth. The title a reference to the biological phenomenon where stress triggers a positive adaptation serves as the conceptual foundation for a sound born from deep introspection.

It is a testament to the idea that resilience is not just about enduring, but about evolving through the friction.

In his productions, Alric Aerial weaves together personal and cultural fragments, bridging the echoes of his heritage (Tales From The Desert Part II) with a conscious departure from familiar scenes and habits (Good To Be Gone). This work marks a natural evolution a shift from the noise of the outside world toward a more refined, intentional focus in the studio.

The tracks strike a balance between "dirty" authenticity and infectious, groovy basslines. From driving, straight-forward rhythms to melodic leads, the work shifts between cinematic tension and uncompromising momentum. Especially in the title track, Hormesis, Alric’s vision culminates in the transformation of fragmentation into energy. The music invites the listener to find a new kind of presence within the act of disappearing to get lost in the pulse, only to emerge more resilient.

Music never exists in a vacuum — every scene and sound evolves from the non-stop exchange of ideas between different groups and cultures. Traditions get passed down from one generation to the next, and then individual heads take influence from their own unique perspective. Sometimes, certain people strike upon fusions that spark massive new movements, but even those rarest innovations came from somewhere.

Jon E Cash knows this more than most — the legendary beats he started putting out at the turn of the millennium had their own disparate roots and influences which he had the motivation to put together into a sound he called sublow. There wasn't any other reference point for this music — when he took the first white labels of 'Drop Top Bimmer Kid' into Blackmarket Records in Soho, London, he had to describe it to a puzzled Nicky Blackmarket and J Da Flex as being, "between garage and hip-hop."

Playing catch-up in 2004, Rephlex Records nodded to sublow when trying to introduce a wider audience to the sounds which had been tearing up the London underground. "Grime. Sublow. Dubstep... It's Music. Different people call it different things depending on when they discovered it." But Jon E Cash's sound was rooted in more than the UK garage that had dominated the clubs through the late 90s, reaching way back to his pre-teen days when the first waves of hip-hop culture crossed the Atlantic and broke in the UK.

25 years on, it's a fine time to reflect on the impact of the music Cash made at the turn of the millennium. History looks back favourably on what he and the Black Ops crew were doing with sublow in the early 00s. The timing meant it ran in parallel with what was happening over East with Pay As U Go, Roll Deep et al, and of course there was crossover. Every DJ and every MC was on the hunt for the best beats they could find. But there's a whole different swagger to sublow — a different web of influences, a different intention and so a different outcome. It's still there in the beats Cash is making more than 20 years later — his 3dom Music label is carrying upfront productions with that sublow DNA coursing through their veins. Whatever the beat or the tempo, the drums are still hard as nails, and the bass is tuned for maximum rave damage.

The Buenos Aires–based producer’s second album on Umor Rex can be read on at least two levels. The most direct traces its origin to the influence of environmental music, as well as to some pioneers of electronic music. The album was recorded in a single session, making extensive use of loops that were later edited and condensed into the six pieces that make up Pequeño clima doméstico. This working method responds to a playful approach that runs through Entidad Animada’s musical intentions, which often start from a specific genre or aesthetic and then filter it through his own language.

From a more conceptual perspective, the record proposes music as a tool capable of modifying the perception of a moment. Rather than closed songs, the album functions as a device that allows one to tune a state, transform a space, or alter a mood. In this sense, it engages with the idea of functional music not as a utilitarian background, but as a means to equalize time, slow the pace, and reconfigure the listener’s emotional climate.

All songs written and performed by Entidad Animada. Recorded in August 2025 in Buenos Aires, Argentina.
Field recordings and processed textures by Guazuncho.
Mastered by José D’Agostino at Moloko Estudio, Frankfurt, Germany. Cover photo by Diego Berruecos. Layout by Daniel Castrejón.

On his second album for Bruk, hoyah חיה continues to take an unflinching look at his Jewish identity while confronted with the heinous actions of the Israeli state. Echoing the name of his Refuge Worldwide radio show, he examines the shared histories of the Jewish diaspora across the Middle East and North Africa — from Morocco to Uzbekistan and everywhere in between. Can I Get A Chayah? is an honest attempt to explore what Judaism could become at a time when the culture faces an existential crisis.

The sonic approach hoyah חיה takes on Can I Get A Chayah? is central to the album's theme, as hard-gated processing on every sound creates a disorienting effect aiming for a kind of 'functional transcendentalism'. From the opening strains of preceding single '808s n Trance Gates' the jagged stop-start intensity of the samples sets a head-spinning tone for the album. The source material comes from across the aforementioned Jewish diaspora, challenging the nationalist idea of the single Jewish state.

Balancing beauty and aggression, hoyah חיה also reaches to a strong cast of collaborators to round out his cultural explorations. Principle among these is the late David German, the US-born guitarist and songwriter behind Silver Jews, whose repeated, bewildered mantras on 'Shalom Aleichem' embody hoyah חיה's own struggles with faith in the face of current horrors. Internationally celebrated Turkish-descent German musician Derya Yıldırım graces 'Talmuds' with her haunting vocal — a tribute to ancient Jewish mysticism that gets passed through the album's unrelenting sonic framework. On 'The Lock' Muha tackles African transcendentalism, while Rael pulls no punches with the questions he poses on the barbed 'This Song Has A Different Title But It Can't Be Published Here Because Of "Reasons"'.

With further prayer recitals on 'Lekha Dodi' and 'The Nose' and videos examining the psychedelic nature of reading the talmud and repetitive prayer movement shuckling, hoyah חיה has taken his research deep into the spirituality of his heritage at a time of crisis for Jewish identity. Naturally, Can I Get A Chayah? is not an easy listening experience, but neither is it a bleak one. There is beauty, mystery, complexity and nuance woven within the stark approach — an intentional, considered statement on a culture much deeper and wider than the barbaric acts of an unrepresentative group of twisted ethno-nationalists.

Thawra Records and Tiny House Music are proud to announce Nafas, the debut original album by Palestinian vocalist, researcher, and composer Salwa Jaradat, set for release in March 2026.
Rooted in a traditional Arabic singing practice yet shaped by a layered and deeply personal artistic journey, Nafas marks a powerful first statement from an artist whose work moves between heritage, research, and lived experience. The album emerges from years of musical and feminist inquiry, giving renewed breath to voices, emotions, and histories that have long existed on the margins.

Salwa Jaradat’s artistic formation is grounded in classical Arabic music and oral tradition, with studies at the Edward Said National Conservatory of Music in Palestine and later in musicology in Lebanon. Alongside her work as a performer, researcher, and archivist, she has developed a practice that treats music as a space of memory, resistance, and continuity. These threads converge in Nafas—an album that does not seek to modernize tradition, but rather to inhabit it differently, allowing it to speak in the present tense.
Developed through an intensive artistic residency in Lebanon, Nafas brings together a core ensemble of regional musicians, with Jaradat’s voice at its center—measured, expansive, and deeply intentional. Across six compositions, the album unfolds patiently, moving between stillness and momentum, intimacy and collectivity, breath and release.
Nafas will be released digitally and on vinyl, reinforcing Thawra Records and Tiny House Music’s ongoing commitment to long-form artistic statements and physical formats as vessels for care, depth, and listening.

The first resonant space Zosha Warpeha played in was the Emanuel Vigeland Museum in Oslo, Norway. Built as a mausoleum, its walls reach up into a gradual archway, creating an environment where sound expands and reverberates for twelve seconds before decaying into silence. Warpeha was greeted only by dim lights when she entered, and it wasn’t until she had spent several minutes listening that she was able to make out the frescoes that covered every inch of the room: graphic depictions of the cycle of life from conception through death. As the sound of her Hardanger d’amore encountered the walls and these slowly emerging scenes, they obscured its point of origin in both time and space, augmenting its own life cycle. The experience sat in the back of her mind over the next several years as she developed her own patient style of composition and performance, one that comes into full bloom on her new album I grow accustomed to the dark.

When Warpeha was selected as an artist in residence at Brooklyn’s ISSUE Project Room in 2025, she saw it as an opportunity to more intentionally explore how her music might fill a room with ample natural reverb. I grow accustomed to the dark documents two single-take solo performances for Hardanger d’amore and voice at IPR, with both pieces composed in a unique tuning system developed to interact with the space itself. Listeners can trace resonance from the contact of the bow on gut strings into the body of the instrument, its five sympathetic strings offering another layer of refraction, before the sound is thrown about the cavity of the room. The echoes emerge like a photographic double exposure, or wisps of smoke that linger in the air, creating ghostly harmonic convergences that blur the line between what is there and not-there. Sound begins to act like light, a synesthetic alchemy that transforms drones into beams and ornamental trills into flickers.

Both side-long compositions, “filament” and “visual purple,” exemplify a duality that animates Warpeha’s music: an expressive, individualistic style that draws on extensive knowledge of her instrument’s history in folk traditions, and an austere, devotional quality maintained by focus and precision. Though very different in character and structure, both pieces evolve slowly through numerous repetitive phrases, passages of stillness, and bursts of intensity. “filament” opens with a cycle of delicate melodic fragments played and sung around a drone before blossoming into an outpouring of swooping arpeggios, harmonics flying from the strings like sparks off a bonfire. The disorienting pulsation of harmonic beating forms the core of “visual purple,” the close-tone dissonance building to a swarm of open strings ringing boldly throughout the space. After the knotty tones reach their climax, the piece collapses into studied quietude, hushed, but without any drop in intensity.

When Warpeha first visited the Vigeland Museum in 2019, she was in Oslo to deepen her relationship to the Hardanger fiddle through the study of Norwegian traditional music, which is primarily passed down aurally. The experience of learning songs by ear, not only internalizing the tune but also absorbing the techniques and tonalities by listening, was a crucial step in her development as a composer. The years since have seen her sharpen those skills as a prolific member of the New York avant-garde and improvised music communities. Warpeha’s music encourages listeners to join her in this journey, to listen closely with each repeated phrase and through each dramatic shift. Like the frescoes on Vigeland’s walls, with time and intention, the depth of I grow accustomed to the dark comes on like a revelation.

“Tectonic” is a concise portrait of SIMON BERZ’s geological sound explorations across continents over the last 15 years: drums, electronics, and a set of electronically manipulated basalt stones from Iceland.

SIMON BERZ is a transdisciplinary drummer, sound artist, and music educator based in Switzerland and Berlin. Working at the intersection of improvised music, sound art, and performance, and deliberately crossing boundaries between disciplines, his aesthetics are shaped by a sustained engagement with natural materials, particularly stone, and their sonic transformation through electronic manipulation. Beyond his performance work, BERZ founded BADABUM as an art label and a music school.

For the last 30 years, BERZ has been performing in Japan, China, Russia, the USA, Cuba, Iceland, Turkey, and across Europe. He has collaborated with artists including BILL LASWELL,BABY SOMMER, DAMO SUZUKI (CAN), JAMES TURRELL, JIMI TENOR, JOHN SINGLAIR, JOJO MAYER (NERVE), KONDO TOSHINORI, KIDD JORDAN, LAUREN NEWTON, LEE “SCRATCH“ PERRY, MAURO PAWLOWSKI (dEUS), NILS PETTER MOLVÆR, NIKI GLASPIE, NORBERT MÖSLANG, PAUL LOWENS, PFADFINDEREI, ROB MAZUREK, SKÚLI SVERRISSON, and he was the live drummer for APPARAT. As BERZ understands artistic practice as energy emerging from nature and through dialogue with people, his recorded output is intentionally selective, with one highlight being “Beats versus Breath” with KONDO and LASWELL (2023). Alongside a regular drumkit and electronics, he has developed his own instruments such as the “Lithophon” in which resonating stones are turned into amplified sound through water drops, and “Tectonic”, a set of Icelandic basalt stones shaped through electronic manipulation. These self- built instruments form the material basis for his performances, installations, and sound recordings.

“Tectonic” is also the title of BERZ’s latest work: a summary of his geological sound explorations across continents. From Iceland to Indonesia and Bali, from New Orleans to China, in caves and at shores, BERZ carried his millions-of-years-old basalt stones as both instrument and collaborator. On Java, he met Baron, a builder of stone gamelan instruments. At the Pacitan Tabuhan Cave (Indonesia) he performed with MISBACH BILOK and WUKIR SURYADI (SENYAWA) who work with corals as instruments. BERZ brought these encounters and “field recordings” to the Stöðvarfjörður studio in Iceland, where he recorded with his “Tectonic” set-up, drums, and electronics. The music was later mixed in Berlin by DIRK DRESSELHAUS (SCHNEIDER TM). The resulting album moves from club-driven tracks to ambient passages, from gamelan-inspired textures to HipHop-like beat patterns. It resists easy categorization while staying direct and physical in its impact.

Repress on purple vinyl. Limited to 250 copies. "Our upcoming album, titled "Helichrysum," delves deep into the human experience, exploring the wounds we carry and the transformative power that lies within us. It serves as a culmination of the countless creative and personal choices we have made, leading us to a place of greater harmony within ourselves, with each other, and with our collective intentions. Musically speaking, the new album is a testament to our commitment to delivering a sonic experience that is unapologetically raw, adventurous, heavy, groovy and psychedelic. The choice to name the album after the Helichrysum plant, holds a significance as the plant symbolizes endurance, healing, immortality, and the power to overcome adversity, which mirror many of the themes throughout the record."

Yuvi Havkin aka Rejoicer returns with an exceptional collaborative album, California Space Craft. On this aptly titled record, he joins forces with seasoned LA bass polymath Sam Wilkes — known for his inspired studio work with Sam Gendel and his dynamic live performances alongside Louis Cole and KNOWER — and drummer Tamir Barzilay, completing the LA-connected trifecta alongside a select handful of key featured guests. The idea for California Space Craft was born out of a series of inspired live sessions in Los Angeles between 2019 and 2022, notably at Listen to Music Outside in the Daylight Under a Tree, where the trio’s natural chemistry first began to bloom. The resulting recordings encompass a wide variety of inspired sound stylings, as one would expect from any of these accomplished artists on their own; however, the sum is truly greater than the parts here, with the fluidity of their freeform improvisations over a dedicated three-day recording session feeling remarkably focused as a cohesive whole. Opening track “Traveling Light” sets the LP’s tone with equal parts Sly & Robbie-style, space echo– drenched rhythms and the cozy kosmische, guitar-led feel of early-2000s genre-fluid explorers like Tortoise. As we continue on to “Ritual in G#,” we are reminded that this is indeed a unique and timeless sonic space the trio has created, as Havkin’s crisp Rhodes chords anchor an ever-evolving psychedelic sound bed. The soaring trumpet of Avishai Cohen adorns the Afrobeat-indebted “Lion Water,” with Barzilay laying down a proper Allen-esque groove, while “Further (with you),” featuring Nitai Hershkovits on keys, offers a defining look at the titular concept of the album — with pure Cali feels coalescing effortlessly into sciNew Release Information fi narrative modes and a proper dose of Rejoicer futurism. Elsewhere, “Her Hair in the Air” shines with fresh polyrhythmic intention, illustrating the balanced bond between the three collaborators at their conversational peak, and the brisk synth strokes of “Early Porpoises,” alongside LP closer “Oceanic Friends” — again ideally named — double as a grand, in-stereo ride into the blissful Pacific sunset horizon. California Space Craft embodies the power of open, collective intention and musical kinship, offering memorable, uplifting moments and an aural glimpse of hope, warmth, and loving melodious calm in an otherwise quite chaotic time for humanity.

Eight years have passed since 8 regards obliques, the album in which Jaumet reinvented his spiritual jazz classics, letting them drift into other dimensions. Since then, an intense tour alongside Thomas de Pourquery and a new recording adventure with Zombie Zombie have taken him on the road. Yet it is in the inspiring calm of his brand-new studio in Bagnolet that he found the material for Du cortex à l’iris, his new album recorded for his label Versatile Records. Du cortex à l’iris continues this delicate balance that defines Jaumet’s signature: a constant tension between hypnotic abstraction and an almost animal groove. "To reduce the distance between my cortex and my senses, in order to compose mental images with sounds," he says. This intention runs through the entire album: a desire to make people dance, yes, but with echoes of EBM, bursts of cinematic landscapes, and that singular way of slowly inducing trance rather than declaring it. Saxophone, synths, analog drum machines: the arsenal remains familiar, but the approach is even more direct. Playing fast, composing in the moment, letting the hand run before the mind corrects. Capturing something primal, spontaneous, almost raw – as if the sound were really passing, this time, directly from the cortex to the iris.

Diagonale des Yeux is the new band formed by two of France’s admired and adventurous artists. Laurène Exposito, we know as EYE, our longest regular contributor to the label — and friend Théo Delaunay, member and producer of Parasite Jazz, panoptique, De Klok & Violent Quand On Aime.

In Knekelhuis we have a particular fondness for artistic outputs that resist easy categorisation, and Diagonale des Yeux inhabits precisely that kind of territory.

Every aspect of the project is DIY/homemade. Their world drifts along the fringes of cabaret, strange 1980s French underground pop music to contemporary lo-fi scene — evoking the spirit of Nini Raviolette and The Residents — while delivering beautifully written songs that lodge themselves in your head almost immediately like a Cindy Lee ballad.

The tracks on Madeleine squeak and creak, wobbling on fragile hinges before suddenly opening onto moments of pure beauty.

Drums and guitars follow up synths and electronic percussions captured on tape between living rooms, studios and a concert space.

The band has a kink for choirs and playfully uses diverse languages. Their lyrics emerge through a homemade, patented four-hands cadavre exquis (Exquisite Corpse) process, where chance and dialogue shape meaning as much as intention.

Diagonale des Yeux is a singular project — equally strange and irresistibly pop-leaning. Music like weeds pushing through pavement cracks and, against all odds, turning into flowers.

Enabilizer is the second full-length album from The Albinos. It’s a focused and emotionally direct record that examines the space between belief and doubt—what it means to hold on to ideals in a world that often doesn’t reflect them. The songs explore themes of connection, disillusionment, and the fragile narratives people use to make sense of things. Sonically, the album moves fluidly between stripped-down garage rock and layered psychedelic arrangements. Built on live, organic instrumentation and a minimal production approach, the sound is raw but intentional—combining driving rhythms, textured guitars, and unpolished vocal performances to create something that feels both grounded and expansive. Formed in Houston, The Albinos have spent the past few years refining their sound, drawing on psych and garage traditions while keeping their songwriting emotionally grounded. Enabilizer marks a step forward for the band—more confident, more cohesive, and more willing to lean into discomfort in search of something honest.

XDCVR_ unveils 'I HATE THAT SHIT, I HATE ALL THAT SHIT' a blistering sonic manifesto on the 'performativity of decay'.

In a world saturated with digital perfection, the album emerges as a vital, hand-made act of electronic rebellion.

Framed as a "soundtrack for the end stretch" the record explores the notion that societal decay is not a passive process, but an active performance—a machine chugging along long after its wheels have fallen off.

This is cyborg music for a bifurcated reality: carbon-fiber toughness shielding a core of systemic rot. The sound palette is intentionally raw and imperfect, a direct challenge to the sterile, automated order of what the artist calls the "techno-fascist oligarchy."

Tracks eschew conventional temporality, mirroring the feeling of existing in two concurrent timelines—one hyper-aware of the collapse, the other numbly consuming it.

Drawing a line from the Cold War anxieties of the past to the data-farming dystopia of the present, 'I HATE THAT SHIT…' posits art as the last authentic incubator for societal change. It is, in the artist's words, "a deliberate 'fuck you' to the oppressive order of the status quo. This is not easy listening; it is a contested space, a lit fuse, and a necessary noise for our complicated times."

It’s a unique universe with a distinct mood. Boy Deco’s SAP LP cements his offbeat artistic vision in a laid-back retro pop style. With distorted guitar riffs, wildly original arrangements and toplines that amplify the project’s intentional sense of ease, SAP is one of those rare gems you don’t forget and keep coming back to whenever you need to unwind.

In an engrossing lattice of polyrhythmic beat science and deep atmospheric meditation, Samurai Music is thrilled to welcome Marco Shuttle to the fold for the Sumud EP.

Since his early years locked into the 00s London techno scene, Marco Sartorelli has developed as an artist entirely on his own terms. Through the rush of new ideas and cross-pollination that has characterised cutting-edge techno over the past 20-odd years, Sartorelli has travelled as Marco Shuttle from one considered stylistic concept to the next. On his own Eerie label and across expansive releases for respected outposts such as Spazio Disponibile, Incensio and Astral Industries, he's taken an exploratory approach to rhythm and spatial design while always drawing on intentional thematic frameworks, creating distinctive and immersive dance music in the process.

As Samurai Music continues to celebrate the rich seams of inspiration where deep techno and drum & bass intersect, Sartorelli's malleable, mysterious strain of drum work fits right in and sets a captivating tone for the label's operations in 2026. 'Sumud' is a steely drum mantra dealing in fractured patterns with the primal patina of the early Artificial Intelligence era, while 'Las Dunas de Taroa' leans on gently pulsing melancholia undulating at a half-time pace. 'Iso 50' taps into raw, analogue minimalism once more, evoking the sound of Roman Flugel's Ro70 records in their icy, alien formation. Completing the set, we're guided towards the tense electronica of 'Polylayering What I've Got', where uneasy melodic chimes interlock with intricately programmed drum machines.

There's a distinct sense of golden-era, mid-90s electronica coursing through Sumud EP, but Sartorelli shrouds the classic tools at his disposal in his subtle signature atmospherics, pushing towards a plain of expression that transcends time.

"Western Massachusetts band Landowner play abrasively-clean minimalist punk. Singer Dan Shaw started Landowner in 2016, writing and recording the project's debut Impressive Almanac with a practice amp and a laptop drum machine. Shaw's initial concept was a made-up genre called “weak d-beat”, meant to sound intentionally absurd “as if Antelope were reading the sheet music of Discharge”. When Shaw joined with his current bandmates in 2017, they translated these early experiments in restraint, minimalism, and caricatured hardcore as a live band. This provided Landowner with its own unique set of blueprints: the guitars “slap hard” without using any distortion or effects, the rhythm section is tight, fast, and repetitious, and the song structures make space for lyrics that reflect on the global systems and dark absurdities our lives are tangled in. Comparisons could be made to The Fall, Lungfish, or Uranium Club, but across their five albums, they make it clear: Landowner just sound like Landowner.

Assumption is the band's fifth album. Sonically, it captures the vibrancy and intensity of their live performances. The album title “Assumption” encapsulates the album's multi-layered themes. We make assumptions, taking in information online through an overload of decontextualized snippets and headlines, and then quickly form conclusions, or we allow artificial intelligence to do the thinking for us. Assumption is the sound of a band that established its own musical identity and has reached a place of tightness with an ease gained from years of playing together, sounding mechanically precise and at the same time fully human. It may be the band's most cohesive and fully realized work to date."

Frequency Response EP marks the second entry on Equal Audio, a Various Artists release embodying the label’s philosophy in its purest form. Varied in mood, unified in simplicity, the record brings together artists with different interpretations while sharing a common focus on reduced arrangements and consistent energy. Pure tools, clear intention, no unnecessary

Shall Not Fade welcomes Pugilist for SNF140 "Maternal".

If you don't already know (and love!) Pugilist's prolific output, you need to get to know! The Naarm/Melbourne based DJ, producer and Rinse resident has released on Martyn's 3024, Melbourne's killer Modern Hypnosis, Silent Era's Of Paradise, Samurai, Rupture, ZamZam, J:Kenzo's Artikal, Sub Basics' Temple of Sound, Whities/AD93, Al Wooton's Trule, Banoffee Pies, Best Intentions and now his own buy on sight Ruff Kutz imprint.

'Maternal' is four blissey dubwise house blurring cuts. Embracing, medicinal, lush & corrective. Vibrations for heads and feet.

'Title track 'Maternal' is deep grooving infectious and honeyed house. Hypnotic, pulsating with head-meltingly warm padwork. 'Bona Fide' sees Pugilist team up with UK duo Mystic State. Drums sidestep with jazz swing while graceful piano and an ensemble of pads are topped with an introspective vocal sample dialing for your subconscious. The B1 'Anomaly' is a stepper - FWD charging drums backed with sub low pulses all brought together by trumpet echoes and woozy melodics. Finally comes 'Marigold', a soulful jungle excursion > early hours business, caressed nostalgic percussion, brushed rhythms, fleeting guitar licks and undulating vibes.

Celebrating the 10th Anniversary of Disclosure's sophomore studio album, Caracal.    

This record features an eclectic lineup of vocal collaborations including The Weeknd, Sam Smith, Gregory Porter, Lorde, Jordan Rakei and many more. With a total of five singles, the acclaimed second single, 'Omen' featuring Sam Smith was the highest charting of the singles, peaking at No.13 in the UK charts, and has accumulated almost 1 billion global streams since release. The Lorde featured track 'Magnets' follows closely behind with just under 710 million streams since release. Caracal has sold over 135,000 physical copies worldwide since release and was Grammy nominated for The Best Dance/Electronic Album back in 2016.

The limited edition will be available for the first time on a 2LP Zoetrope, housed in a gatefold die cut sleeve. Each side of the vinyl is inspired by the original album artwork and campaign poster from the time, using the caracal cat and the featured vocalists illustrations to create animated movement across the discs as they spin.

Alex Rex, the project of acclaimed musician and former Trembling Bells bandleader Alex Neilson, is set to release his fourth and final studio album, The National Trust, on March 28th. Written in the wake of the sudden death of his younger brother, Alastair, the album is a poignant reflection on loss, love, and renewal, deeply rooted in the landscape of Carbeth—a cabin community in the Scottish countryside that Alastair called home. For Neilson, the cabin became both a physical and emotional project, a symbol of restoration and reconnection.

"For the first four years after Alastair died, his cabin lay empty and exposed to the remorseless Scottish weather. It came to look like a rotten tooth in a beautiful mouth. Cladding was dropping off its veneer, the ashen baubles of dead wasps nests clung to the rafters, all his possessions were just as he'd left them but eaten by mice, moths and time. Ashtrays still carried the crushed centimetres of his old tab ends. The cabins are so joyfully animated by their host's specific personality and this one looked like a haunted house. Guilt, unrealised hopes and encroaching nature yoked together in a wandering sadness. Combined with the fact that I didn't know the right way round to hold a hammer made the project of its restoration seem hopeless.”

Neilson, however, gradually began chipping away at the task, determined to transform the cabin into something he hoped would resemble “a National Trust site occupied by a psychopath,” with a little help from some friends, including Lavinia Blackwall and Marco Rea.

“They poured love into the cabin and helped restore Alastair's original vision. The project also helped restore my relationship with Lavinia which had fractured after Trembling Bells broke up in 2017. Alongside long-term Rex lieutenant Rory Haye, we applied the same intensity of dedication that we did in renovating the cabin, into creating The National Trust.”

As with Neilson’s previous albums, the recording process was intentionally unpolished, with songs presented in the studio with no rehearsals and captured in just a few takes. This raw, immediate approach amplifies the emotional weight of the album, which Neilson describes as being at a “personal apex of sour self-reflection, mock misanthropy, and self-exposure.” Longtime collaborators Lavinia Blackwall, Marco Rea, and Rory Haye return, alongside guest musicians like Jill O’Sullivan (Jill Lorean) and Trembling Bells guitarist Mike Hastings, to bring Neilson’s vision to life. The result is a deeply personal and multifaceted work, blending acid wit with haunting introspection.

The songs on The National Trust traverse a wide emotional and thematic range. The title track opens the album with a sharp and confessional edge, exploring love, loathing, and cultural critique with Neilson’s signature wit. “Boss Morris” pays tribute to the all-female Morris dancing troupe that reinvents British folk with vibrant energy, while “Two Kinds of Song” turns self-referential humour into an avalanche of remorse, culminating in the unforgettable chorus: “I’ve got two kinds of song. Which one will it be; one where I hate myself or one where you hate me?” Elsewhere, tracks like “Psychic Rome” draw from the decadence and hysteria of ancient Rome, while “The Coward in the Tower” breaks new ground as the only song Neilson has composed on an instrument before recording.

Throughout the album, Neilson’s lyricism is as vivid as ever, transforming personal tragedy into poignant and often darkly humorous art. Yet, there is a sense of finality to this work. "Songwriting has encouraged me to see the whole world as a resource. The things people say and throw away can be chiselled and polished and plopped into a lyric. It’s the same with building the cabin- scouring the edges of society for pallets, discarded wood, ornaments for the garden. But while song writing brings to life orphaned parts of my personality, the cabin is a synthesis of all my interests – nurturing my emotional health instead of exploiting it. With that in mind, I think this will be my last album as Alex Rex.”

With The National Trust, Neilson closes a significant chapter of his career, blending masterful musicianship with deeply personal storytelling. Known for his collaborations with artists such as Bonnie "Prince" Billy, Shirley Collins, and Current 93, as well as his decade-long tenure leading the psych-folk outfit Trembling Bells, Neilson has long been celebrated for his eclectic and uncompromising vision. This final album serves as a fitting culmination of his journey as Alex Rex, capturing the essence of his artistry while offering a profound exploration of loss, renewal, and the enduring power of love.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Mess Esque are a duo featuring music and instruments by Mick Turner
and words and voice by Helen Franzmann. Their self-titled album is a
beguiling travelogue of restless, somnambulant wanderings.
Perhaps best known as one of the Dirty Three, Mick’s been playing
guitar and making music with many collaborators for forty years. He’s
loved his paintings too but revered especially for his solo music - since
1997, Drag City have released four of his albums, plus an EP and an
album of the Tren Brothers (Mick with percussionist and fellow Dirty
Three-ite, Jim White) and two EPs featuring Mick as the Marquis de Tren
with Bonnie ‘Prince’ Billy.
Mick’s last record was 2013’s ‘Don’t Tell the Driver’, a work that found
him departing from his traditional hermetic instrumental template by
employing a rhythm section and brass charts and even collaborating with
a vocalist. After all the purely instrumental music he’s made with Dirty
Three and solo, a singer is now part of the sound he’s hearing in his
head these days; while demoing new material, he realized that he was
again writing music that needed lyrics - and for that matter, someone
other than himself to sing them. But who? In 2019, he was introduced to
Helen through a mutual friend who’d produced her last album. Under the
name Mckisko, Helen has released three albums over the past 12 years,
working and touring with a range of Australian musicians along the way.
Her music has been described as numinous and transformative. Her
most recent album, ‘Southerly’, saw her moving into a more expansive
sound which led to an openness and excitement around further
collaboration.
Helen’s words are carefully observed, her phrasing responding intuitively
to Mick’s looping guitar figures with vocal repetitions of her own. Starting
with a feeling or a voicing, there are often no words - both players are
searching on their own paths. Then suddenly they have arrived and are
passing the emerging meaning back and forth, the rising intensity
forming a kind of undertow that pulls the listener deeper into their world.
Often, Helen would record her vocals in the middle of the night, seeking
that 2am flow, a moment of greatest isolation through which to trace her
melodie with fragility and strength. This crystallizes Mess Esque’s
intention: riding the sleepy drift through the blurred edges of the day…
time-traveling to that moment beyond stasis where sense and no sense
coincide and share space and time and energy. Viewing from afar the
immense peace of this planet when its ghost world of spirits below - the
madness of crowds, people sliding past each other faraway in the night -
are quieted at last.

With Spam Vol.2, KVR - Niels Broos, Dries Laheye & Lander Gyselinck - delivers its second statement.



Recorded in a beautiful studio tucked beneath a bridge in Rotterdam, the album distills a week of free improvisation into vivid, shape-shifting pieces. A beautiful chaos of bass guitars, synths stacked on clavs, drums and machines to get lost in, in between coincidence and intention. Jungle rhythms, elastic time, open structures and organic textures come together in a lively sound that feels playful as well as restless and deeply intuitive.



KVR is Niels Broos (Jameszoo, Binkbeats) on keys, Dries Laheye (STUFF., Selah Sue) on bass and Lander Gyselinck (STUFF., Lander & Adriaan, BeraadGeslagen) on drums.



For fans of Thundercat, Hudson Mohawke, The Comet Is Coming, Jameszoo, etc.

i am so thrilled to share the film for my concert cornucopia with you . this has been a long journey with hundreds of people helping out . i am so beyond enormously grateful to every single one of them .

i feel the modern concert film is a matriarchially friendly construct , welcomed in the current climate . where female musicians can share their worlds uncorrupted . in cornucopia , i was joined by musical director and multi instrumentalist bergur þórisson , percussionist manu delago , flute septet Viibra , harpist katie buckley and the hamrahlid choir .

i spent last decade working with 360-degree sound and visual software in virtual reality and animation, creating Biophilia and later Vulnicura as a VR album . i was deeply inspired by the idea of a fully-immersive experience spreading Utopia and Fossora into fully surround speakers . my intention was to bring what we had created for 21st-century VR into a 19th-century theatre - taking it from the headset to the stage .

this vision was realised with 27 moving curtains that captured projections on different textures and LED screens , creating a digitally animated show : a "modern lanterna magica" for live music . i also wanted to feature bespoke instruments: a magnetic harp , an aluphone , a circular flute , and a reverb chamber , specially built with an audio architect to enhance the most intimate version of a performance—in a personal chapel .

throughout this tale, there is a subplot woven in : a second story of an avatar—a modern marionette who alchemically mutates , from puppet to puppet , from the injury of a heart wound to a fully healed state . i hope you enjoy it . warmness , björk

A pandemic album of songs of heartbreak, virality, and dead rats, which Wood called "goodbye cruel world: the musical." The revealing chamber pop/folk album "In Case I Make it" (ICIMI), which Will Wood playfully dubbed "Goodbye Cruel World: The Musical," turned out to be a surprisingly strong followup to his chaotic and sardonic previous release, "The Normal Album." While divisive among some fans due to its gentler sounds and more traditional vocal stylings than most of his last work, ICIMI attracted new, older audiences and showed a more personal side that provided a new context to his discography. Widely considered to be some of his most powerfully emotional work, both the harshly introspective and humorous songwriting, as well as its unique delivery, are still distinctly Will Wood in their experimental nature and uncompromising unwillingness to conform to the expectations of both die-hard fans and audiences at large. In 2021, the underground singer-songwriter was suddenly the subject of unexpected online attention, which, in tandem with mental health struggles, inspired him to put out a "musical suicide note," intended to express parts of his artistic and personal identity that had gone largely unseen by a fanbase he felt misunderstood. Leading the album with intentionally algorithm-unfriendly singles and putting an eight-minute love ballad as the second track on the LP, Wood aggressively redefined himself as being more than just a handful of wacky, unwitting viral pops. Ironically, the surprise viral success of the deep cut "The Main Character," a relentless satire of online culture, drew attention to the album and its second biggest hit, the angst-ridden yet danceable "Against the Kitchen Floor." However, the immense orchestration and vulnerable writing have kept audiences coming back. Songs like "Euthanasia" and "Tomcat Disposables" have developed reputations as tearjerkers, and songs like "Cicada Days" and "White Noise" have become fan anthems in the years since.

If art is to be exhibited, then Ulrika Spacek will ensure that their art is collective; that even as the world becomes inhospitable to community, their intentions are an act of resistance.

Whether it is Oysterland, the self-curated night the band have been Hosting for over ten years to platform artists of other disciplines in live music spaces, or Total Refreshment Centre, the East London studio Syd runs which connects the dots between the jazz scene and like-minded experimental artists of the capital and beyond, or their creative bleed as musicians and producers over the years with the likes of Crack Cloud, caroline, DIIV, Holy Wave and Slowdive, the band’s existence is inseparable from their community.

In a hyper-individual world, the band’s fourth album, ‘EXPO’, offers an antidote. It’s there, in the shared dream logic of the music, the off-kilter melodies, jagged guitars and cirrus cloud atmospherics. It’s there, in all the things that are said and unsaid between them; there in the writing, producing and mixing processes they share in. And even as each of their parts Moves toward a unified vision, it’s never more keenly felt than in the bigger Picture to which Ulrika Spacek belong.

Though their well-established foundations are in the art-rock world - and though they are inspired by electronic elements more than ever - Ulrika Spacek are interested in the glitch that exists between the two. Their Music reckons with human warmth and digital isolation, equal parts welcoming and altogether alienating. “Our music has always been a collage - a bit patchwork, sonically - but what makes this album a landmark for us is that we went one step further and made our own sample bank,” explains singer / guitarist Rhys. They create their own doppelgängers in a world of almostreal, where the band appear as if in a hall of mirrors. Digital drums are sampled layered upon real drums, and the effect is almost like birth in reverse - pulled from the ether and returned back to the tangible world.

“There’s a lot that can be said about writing when there is no aim, there is a freedom and a purity in it which opens a door to more music, and in this case, it set a mood for a new album, one that would be colder, darker and one that would embrace electronics and new instrumentation in a new terrain,” the band share. “The album’s greater theme is isolation and alienation in an online world where it seems everybody around you is constantly exhibiting themselves, living in public wanting to be seen and heard. The age of ‘individuality’ is lonely, it’s a room of concave mirrors, and with this in mind, we set upon making our most collective effort; ‘It’s back to strength in numbers, count in fives.”

For fans of Radiohead, Moin, DIIV, Astrel K, Slowdive.

LP presented on Crystal Clear vinyl.

Loaded with tension and anchored by bold textural and stylistic contrasts, Sam Slater’s third solo full-length finds the British sound artist, composer, and engineer grappling with his creative contradictions head-on.

Having spent a life time in bands and producing records, Sam transitioned somewhat by accident through his work with Johan Johansson into working as a composer on high profile projects such as his collaboration with Hildur Guðnadóttir on the Grammy Award-winning Joker and Chernobyl, and with Pulitzer Prize-winning journalist Mstyslav Chernov on the soundtrack to the lauded 2000 Meters to Andriivka. Having a vast set of interests and influences is an asset when helping realise a directors vision for a soundtrack, but one's own musical voice can end up being constrained. In Lunng, Slater has gone back to his wildly divergent range of influences and rather than shy away from the extremes, he's used them to create a singular vision.

Take the opening track “Heatsick”: Slater imagines an extravagant fusion of 2000s drone metal and vintage British brass, welding ear-splitting overdriven drones and blown-out choral vocals to stirring trombone swells from veteran player Hilary Jeffery. On paper, it’s hard to imagine—but Slater’s intentionality conducts these polarizing elements into a surreal blur of sonic extremes, with the guitars’ relative harshness softened by Jeffery’s eerily nostalgic colliery echoes.

His last solo album, I do not wish to be known as a Vandal (Bedroom Community, 2022), showcased this breadth by assembling a team of collaborators including Sam Dunscombe and Yair Elazar Glotman. On this record he’s linking up with acclaimed multi-instrumentalist Maria W. Horn, idiosyncratic sax virtuoso Bendik Giske, versatile percussionist Adam Betts, and the aforementioned Jeffery, Slater ushers these players toward a lattice of calculated confutations.

Working to explore the tension between the divergent practices of his collaborators—Lunng was meant to be challenging. On “Praya”, Giske’s familiar overblown horn phrases are almost vaporized, vanishing among Slater’s weightless synths and Horn’s chillingly hoarse vocals. There are traces of Horn’s Funeral Folk project, but Slater shifts the emphasis, letting her voice brush past the other elements like a hallucination.

Slater’s use of extremes isn’t just in the micro; dynamics drive the album’s overall flow. “Praya” sets the stage for the record’s heaviest, most prickly moment: “Passengers”. Here, Horn’s voice cracks, rasps, and gurgles over serrated synths and Betts’ ritualistic drums. Slater turns an industrial symphony into a folk opera—dark, dramatic, and strangely beautiful—etched with Giske’s fluttering phrases.

But the mood soon shifts. Slater careens toward chaos, unleashing double-time rhythms and piercing textures familiar to anyone with a soft spot for classic black metal. These grotesque incongruities are deliberate; Slater surveys years of musical conflict and leans in, using dissent as fuel to build kinetic energy.

The weight of sentimentality bears down on “Black Metal Rewind (Night Drive Astra, 2006)”, melting teenage memories into hypnagogic ambience—shoegaze dreams whirled with angelic choral delusions. On “Death by Nostalgia, 1688”, he ventures further into polarizing territory, distorting AutoTuned voices with cryptic strings and medieval tonalities, unsettling any stable sense of past or present.

In this record Slater focuses on pure energy, color, and mood. Lunng distills years of listening into a bracing brew—boiling each sound down to its essence, then serving it with unflinching intent.

John Twells, 2025

Gatzara Records presents its second vinyl single.

This record is a tribute to Jackie Mittoo, a key figure in the development of reggae, ska, and rocksteady. Known for his work at Studio One and his role as keyboardist for The Skatalites, Mittoo left a profound mark on Jamaican music with his melodic style and rhythmic approach to the keyboards.

The track is built on a classic reggae foundation produced by Sergio Caño, with a restrained rhythm and simple structure. The focus is on the organ, played by Joan Sobrevals, who carries the main line with a sober, respectful sound clearly influenced by Mittoo's school. Without seeking to imitate, the performance takes characteristic elements of his style — melodic phrasing, spaced chords, marked beats — to shape a coherent piece that remains faithful to the style.

The production maintains a minimalist aesthetic, without overloading, leaving space for each instrument to breathe and fulfil its function. The result is a serene, mid-tempo piece that invites you to listen carefully, without virtuosity, but with a clear intention: to pay tribute to a great musician who defined a sound, an era, a style.

Thank you, Jackie!

“’Death & Connection’ is a body of work born from the absence of the people who no longer hold space in our lives”, comments the band. “This record was created from a necessity to express and soothe our deepest losses; however, that was never the intention — we simply set out to make an album we wanted to hear.” With “Death & Connection”, Shields invite the audience to experience the next evolution of their sound – mature, refined and fearless. Throughout the band’s career Shields toured with bands such as Ice Nine Kills, Born Of Osiris, Chelsea Grin, Veil Of Maya, Escape the Fate or Loathe.

Barry Walker Jr. is a pedal steel player and guitarist whose roots in Americana, Country and Folk traditions influence his melding of minimalism, ambient and spiritual music. The Portland-based instrumentalist is also a member of the Rose City Band, known for his gorgeous phrasing and deft interplay with guitarist Ripley Johnson. On Paleo Sol, Walker demonstrates his singular voice as a pedal steel player and composer. Evoking the American western ranges and basins, the album embodies a longer, geologic view of time that patiently marvels at the ripples of change throughout lifetimes and ages. Walker is joined on Paleo Sol by drummer Rob Smith (Rhytion, Pigeons) and bassist and Mouth Painter bandmate Jason Willmon (Fruited Planes). Paleo Sol"s tranquil landscapes glide, built on warm finger-picked guitar figures and pedal steel swells coupled with deft percussion and bass touches by Smith and Willmon respectively. The trio plays with exceptional fluidity either completing each others phrasing or working together to build momentum. Smith notes: "The drums are not keeping time as much as evidencing its elasticity, mixing into the other instruments, changing phase states." Every gesture on the album is rich with intention, moving with grace and playing with timbre and time.

Continued Sound is proud to present The Shadow by Ojiji.
In 1979, Rupert “Ojiji” Harvey put out one of the most distinctly original albums of a generation. Combining progressive jazz-fusion arrangements with soul, funk, and reggae from his native Jamaica, Ojiji’s The Shadow is an album only he could create.
Ojiji, along with his brother Carl, were performing in nightclubs before they were old enough to legally enter. At just 15, Ojiji was tapped by reggae keyboard legend Jackie Mittoo to join his band The Cougars. Not long after, the Harvey brothers teamed up with other Cougars members to form the funk band Crack of Dawn. This union proved to be groundbreaking, not just in the soul/funk genre, but for Canadian music as a whole. In 1975, they were signed to a major label, Columbia Records, the first Black Canadian band in history to do so. Tracks like “It’s Alright” and “Keep the Faith” still echo in the halls of Canadian funk history.
Personal and industry differences caused Crack of Dawn to break up in 1977, and a young Rupert Harvey was without a band for the first time. However, the creative mind never rests. Outside of the band, Ojiji had been writing and composing his own personal songs since age 17. These songs were a fusion of the sounds and styles he’d soaked up during his time with his musical mentors mixed with new emerging musical influences he was hearing every day.
With the help of his brother Carl and some Crack of Dawn bandmates, he began recording his debut solo album The Shadow. The band's tightness heard in the intricate arrangements are a testament to their interwoven musicianship at the time. Many tracks were recorded in only one-take. Each song in The Shadow’s eclectic glory paints a picture of a young man's singular lived experience through music. Regaling us with where he’s been. Inviting us to where he’s going.

Waiting is the essence of travel. Patience is its own reward.

Two people. A Telecaster guitar with a few effect pedals. A drum machine. An audio interface is connected to a laptop. The ingredients are simple yet effective.

But any suggestion of four-track cassette machines and vintage bedsit productions is quickly dispelled by digital dubbiness and refined arrangements. A tail of reversed echos. The crystalline flourish of octave-pitched delays. Riddled hi-hats tickle and taunt. A bass drum asserts its space.

Winkler's guitar patterns have a fragmented, almost haphazard connotation. Searching in a shimmer of reverb. Until the beat, the framework, sets in to reveal structure. Intentionality. Reihse's programmed rhythms go just to the point of a groove, holding the moment of tension, knowingly delaying the gratification. Beats that have scratchy patina anda subtly playful edge; their crispness stands in contrast to the contemplative drift of the guitar. Is it a trance? Or a dance? Yes.

There are some apparent references here: a good portion of Les Disques du Crépuscule, some kraut-esque electronica, even a smidgen of Morricone / Spaghetti Western, blending into a kind of Musique Noir – yet these serve as a set of orientational coordinates, rather than quotations.

This is so far the most assured release by Periode, perhaps eschewing some of the naiveté that was wilfully cultivated in earlier output – there is no cheeky cover version this time. And no singing either. The nine pieces have the quality of a series, a variation on a mood, or a subset of moods. What emerges is an inviting swagger in the face of bleakness. There is a profound melancholy, but it is not the darker kind, and does not exclude humour.

First impressions may suggest that this is purely nocturnal music. Yet it equally evokes the harsh sunlight and baking summer heat. Or a rainy day. And transportation: the music suggests the motion of travel, even if that travel only happens within the mind. And waiting. Waiting while doing nothing much. Because that's all you can do. (Alexander Paulick)

Berlin-based Swiss vocalist Lucia Cadotsch returns with her celebrated Speak Low trio for their second album, released by We Jazz Records on 27 Nov. "Speak Low II" features Cadotsch on voice, Otis Sandsjö on tenor saxophone and Petter Eldh on double bass, and introduces guest artists Kit Downes on hammond organ and Lucy Railton on cello. "Speak Low II" picks up where their genre-bending and forward-looking debut album left off, introducing new shades into the band's sound and also diving even deeper into the songs they tackle. What makes Speak Low special is their approach to really get to the heart of each composition with seemingly minimal means, yet generating a sound which is both instantly recognisable and remarkably impactful.

"Speak Low II" comes almost five years after the band's lauded debut, and proves the depth of the band's approach right from the start. At the core of the trio's operation is an openness to their love of the music and to their surrounding scene(s). The album comes across as a unified collection of songs made truly theirs and found through listening to records and spending time with their musician friends, often on the road. The highly evolved band sound and the equality of the musicians shines through on the Speak Low sound, as the group uses their 100+ performances together as a vehicle for the development of their music.

"The first album was filled with pretty famous songs, but that was actually not at all intentional" explains Cadotsch. "Those were just my favourite songs of the previous 10 years and we started working on making them ours, musically. We were playing around with concepts for the second album, but soon realised that we just needed to find the right songs and adapt them organically, which comes through in how we interact with the songs and each other. This time around, we wanted to dig deeper and made finished arrangements of around 20 tracks, half of which we ditched in the process. The ones that made the cut have been through a lot and they just felt right for us."

In a way, the Speak Low approach could be described as archaeological. Three music lovers connecting with songs found at various sources, readily throwing away any ideas that don't seem natural to them, and hanging on tight to the ones that do.

Turns out there is a concept to "Speak Low II". It's the band itself, their shared musical development and their love of music.

"Speak Low II" will be available on We Jazz Records on vinyl (PURPLE and BLACK editions), CD and digitally. The vinyl versions come with a heavy duty tip-on sleeve and a printed inner sleeve. CD in digisleeve with no breaking plastic parts.

Tashi"s latest punk anthems: electric guitar improvisations to brutally impact us with... gentle lyricism and introspective depth! In a time of extraordinary institutional inhumanity, seeing the faces of the many deprived, what is there to feel but exhaustion? What to want but silence? Tashi seeks it all out actively, with intention. Hard truths absorbed, he enjoins power to reconstitute as spirit, to disseminate to everyone outside the walls.