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‘The Nature of Nature’ is the debut LP by Hanegi Koen, the Japan-based creative duo composed of British ¦lmmaker Sam King and Canadian label head Sean Mallion (ADSR Collective). Picking up where they left off with their 2021 EP ‘Well Worth A Visit’, this album continues the legacy of spaced-out ambient guitars and driving analog beats the band nicely cued up for us. It has continuity from their previous work, going even deeper this time, further de¦ning the contours of their sound. As the title suggests, Nature was a big influence on the record. Many of the track titles are from the season they were recorded in – for example, ‘Hanafubuki’, when the cherry blossoms fall, ‘Tsuyu’, the rainy season, or ‘Kaminari’ which was written during a crazy thunderstorm. The sights and sounds of those times are reflected in the tracks, with ¦eld recordings helping to supplement the atmosphere. Hanegi’s founding ethos of only using analog instruments and drum machines to compose and perform, minimizing the need for the computer as an interface, is alive and well in this album. The tracks got tested in front of an audience and improved on, based on feedback from playing them live, leading to a psychedelic, synth-rich, analog journey. “We like all things analog. We both use computers and digital screens a fair amount in our day job, so it’s nice to give our eyes a rest from that and allow the music to be created from everything we have on the table.
Similarly vinyl records, ¦lm photography, and simply walking around outside in the forest – all these things are a way of slowing down and escaping the digital world.”

Greatly influenced by the wild contrasting outdoors of their home in Japan, the mountains, forests, and ocean, ‘The Nature of Nature’ is an open invitation to unplug to reconnect, a feeling that Hanegi Koen want to share with you. Released on August 18th, on vinyl and digital via Subtempo. Credits: Written and composed by Sean Mallion and Sam King Mixed by Aoki Takamasa Mastering by Manmade Mastering Album art by Laine Butler Design by Rocco Tyndale

Mit diesen 80er Jahre Electro Titeln wird auch heute noch jede Party zum Kochen gebracht. Zeitlose Klassiker, die nie ihren Charme verlieren werden.

White Vinyl

Program-X is its 7th installment with tracks from the emblematic duo Minimum Syndicat and labelboss Deep Dimension. A not-to-miss release bringing you the shared love of no-nonsense old school rave music.

Between flesh and silicon. “Under My Skin” (2026) is the first album by IADI, released by Neo Life. A record like few
others, highly conceptual, cover art included. Its essence lies in the folds of the increasingly ambiguous relationship
between man and machine, where the former designs the latter and, perhaps without fully realizing it, is gradually
destined to adapt and be reprogrammed by it. Each track of “Under My Skin” is, in fact, a sort of interface, connector, or
any other imaginative point of contact between two creative phases, amid emotional impulses and binary calculations.
The sonic architecture oscillates between analog warmth and algorithmic coldness, constructing landscapes in which
pulsating synthesizers and mechanical rhythms seem to question each other. There's no linear narrative, but rather a
progressive immersion in a zone of near-friction, where the comfort of technology coexists with more than a faint
musical uneasiness, like a background noise that never ceases to remind you who's truly in charge. In “Under My Skin”,
the machine is neither an enemy nor a simple instrument: it's a real presence, intimate, even tactile, amplifying desires,
fears, and dreams of dawns beyond the digital realm. Intelligent dance music. Less noise, more sensations. Electronic,
but profoundly human.
The final result, then, is a music project that speaks to the present, yet sounds like an X-ray of the future, capturing that
fragile moment when humanity and technology stop observing each other from afar and begin to merge, track after
track. It's no coincidence that IADI's album opens with “Impulse”, an immediate expression of an electrical impulse, for
both humans and machines, which is also the language of the nervous system, as fast as it is vital—pure energy and
rhythm, a track as intense as it is irregular. And after this introduction, it's the turn of the equally erratic “Axon”, whose
title describes the neuron that transmits the signal over distance, telling the listener to sit back and relax for a new
journey through the notes toward the more melodic “Cortex”. The cerebral cortex, the ultimate seat of thought and
memory, becomes the source from which the musical flow of the first part of the work is drawn.
Then, suddenly, an automatic, or instinctive, response to the constant succession of impulses: “Reflex”, or zerotemperature techno, with a fragmented pace, featuring vocal samples, breaks, and restarts. In the producer's
imagination, the subsequent, and conversely placid, “Neuron” represents the emotional core of the second part of the
work, providing a kind of respite from the seething vibrations. While the neuron is the basic unit of the nervous system,
the synapse is the functional connection point between one neuron and another effector cell, essential for the
transmission of nerve impulses and communication in the nervous system, enabling functions such as learning and
movement. Likewise, a track like “Synapse” once again illuminates the path traced by IADI. The more experimental and
streamlined “Static” instead suggests true ordered chaos. “Dreamstate” is the conclusion suspended in the void, relating
to that dreamlike state between waking and sleeping, where consciousness fades toward infinity and visions begin. Pure
fading into the subconscious. Eternal return to where it all began. Dancing is a form of consciousness. Every beat is a
question. IADI, however, holds all the answers you need.

Kēpa is built whole, even if life has broken a few bones along the way.

Back when he was a pro skater, he gave everything to the board. Today, he gives that same intensity to the stage, delivering hypnotic cine-concerts where motion, sound, and image blur into one. The only falls left now are the ringing final chords of his guitar — not just an instrument, but an extension of his body.

Fingerpicking is his native tongue. So much so that Kēpa no longer sings — he lets the strings speak. Percussive, alive, essential. This music isn’t about performance, it’s about living: a personal quest, a way to reach others by first going inward. Moving against the current without fighting the wind. Finding breath, essence, and remembering we’re all drifting on a spinning planet, surrounded by forces bigger than us.

It’s easier to look away. Easier to follow noise, fear, or false prophets. Harder — and braver — to truly connect.

Released in late 2025, Hotline Service opened the door, offering a wide-open, spiritual escape. With SOUL WASH SERVICES— produced by Timber Timbre — Kēpa goes further. Warmer, deeper, more focused. The album feels like sunlight on asphalt, a long drive with the windows down, time slowing just enough to let something real surface.

A kindred spirit to Hermanos Gutiérrez, Kēpa plays the role of a modern, pagan preacher — guiding us through a dusty, golden road movie that unfolds entirely inside the listener. His music doesn’t shout; it cleans.

Kēpa does it all: writes, plays, films, edits, mixes. Music becomes image, image becomes music. Nothing is separate, on record or on stage. There’s no excess, no showboating — just an open invitation to slow down, go deeper, aim higher.

Tracks like Solarium and Paradisiac reach the peaks with minimal gear: five strings, a few picks, and total control of touch and space. Listening to Kēpa feels like checking in with yourself — a quiet inner trip shaped by sounds from every corner of the world. Blues, not to feel them, but to leave them behind.

After years devoted to picking, his playing has become something sacred.

And if you let it, it carries you with it.

Blue Vinyl Repress

The special one! Mr. G’s productions are distinctive, deep, driving and, above all, a listen to behold. Like the man–machine interface between hypno house and roots techno, he manages to unite dance floors either through his High Mass–like live sets full of swing, grit and soul, or simply through other DJs playing his records.
Blessing Running Back for the second time, Mr. G’s Reconnection EP is the result of a serious dive into his vaults.
City Heat (G’s Underground Dub) is a picture-perfect example of his skill to groove without a doubt: raw, funky and fabulous. Serendipity and Work on the flip side complete this picture. Decades of record buying, music making and a love supreme for this culture rolled into one. Made yesterday, released today, and it will still sound great tomorrow. A personal gift from Mr. G’s archive to Running Back.

ince its opening in spring 2021, JUBG, a still young Cologne gallery for contemporary art, has specialized in the broad field of artists and collaborations working along artistic interfaces, especially those between visual art and experimental and/or electronic music. For example, JUBG has already hosted exhibitions by Markus Oehlen, Kim Gordon, Wolfgang Voigt, Matthias and Aksel "Superpitcher" Schaufler, Sven-Åke Johansson, and Emil Schult. Albert Oehlen, who is a kind of mentor and supporter of the gallery, was also a guest at Albertusstraße this summer, where he presented the exhibition D-I-E ORPHEUSMASCHINE together with Michael Wertmüller, Thomas Stammer and the poet Rainald Goetz.

It is only logical that the gallery now expands its sphere of activity to include its own label, on which music appears that comes from similar contexts as the artists listed above already suggest.

As catalog number 1, JUBG is now releasing the official soundtrack to "The Painter" from 2021. The film, German title "Der Maler", is a mixture of feature film and documentary and a collaboration between German director Oliver Hirschbiegel, best known for his Oscar-nominated film "Downfall", and Albert Oehlen, with whom Hirschbiegel has a long friendship, as they both once studied together at the Hochschule der Bildenden Künste in Hamburg.

The docu-fiction shows Oehlen struggling with a painting and pondering the meaning of his work. Oehlen is played by German actor and musician Ben Becker, accompanied by the off-screen voice of Charlotte Rampling. In the film, Becker makes a painting that Oehlen himself creates step by step behind the camera, while the actor improvises the process in front of the camera.

The wonderful music for this film comes from no less than two outstanding personalities whose individual biographies and musical signatures could hardly be better suited to this project. On the A-side it is Gudrun Gut, icon not only of the German electronic music scene since at least the 90's, singer, composer, DJ, label owner (Monika Enterprise) and of course founding member of the legendary 80's New Wave band Malaria. On the B-side it’s the world famous and award winning US avant-garde trumpeter and improvisational musician Nathan "Nate" Wooley, who has played with Fred Frith and John Zorn among others.

Gudrun Gut's tracks bear such beautiful titles as "Bewegung", "Küste" or "Weinen" and she once again pulls out all the stops of her great skills and decades of experience as a producer of the most diverse electronic music genres. These are unusual and much more experimental musical paintings that she creates here than on her recent solo works. Edgy, angular, raw and unpolished, yet always elegant and clever, she subverts the male artist madness depicted extensively in the film in her own unique way.

Nathan Wooley answers with the instrument he has been familiar with since childhood, the trumpet, with which he is able to create a ravishingly virtuosic noise. His pieces are more like sketches, often only 90 seconds or a few minutes long, but in all their abstractness underpin the narrative of the film almost perfectly.

A limited edition of 20 copies in total, painted and signed by Ben Becker, can be purchased directly through JUBG.

JUBG, eine noch junge Kölner Galerie für zeitgenössische Kunst, hat sich seit ihrer Eröffnung im Frühjahr 2021 auf das weite Feld von Künstler:innen und Kollaborationen spezialisiert, die entlang künstlerischer Schnittstellen tätig sind, insbesondere an denen zwischen bildender Kunst und experimenteller und/oder elektronischer Musik. So hat JUBG bereits Ausstellungen von Markus Oehlen, Kim Gordon, Wolfgang Voigt, Matthias und Aksel "Superpitcher" Schaufler, Sven-Åke Johansson und Emil Schult gezeigt. Auch Albert Oehlen, der eine Art Mentor und stiller Unterstützer der Galerie ist, war im Sommer dieses Jahres zu Gast in der Albertusstraße, wo er zusammen mit Michael Wertmüller, Thomas Stammer und dem Dichter Rainald Goetz die Ausstellung D•I•E ORPHEUSMASCHINE präsentierte.

Es ist nur logisch und folgerichtig, dass die Galerie ihren Wirkungskreis nun um ein eigenes Label erweitert, auf dem Musik erscheint, die aus ähnlichen Zusammenhängen und Sphären stammt, wie es die oben aufgezählten Künstler:innen bereits vermuten lassen.

Als Katalog-Nummer 1 veröffentlicht JUBG nun den offiziellen Soundtrack zu "The Painter" aus dem Jahr 2021. Der Film, deutscher Titel “Der Maler”, ist eine Mischung aus Spiel- und Dokumentarfilm und eine Zusammenarbeit zwischen dem deutschen Regisseur Oliver Hirschbiegel, vor allem bekannt für seinen Oscar-nominierten Film "Der Untergang", und Albert Oehlen, mit dem Hirschbiegel eine lange Freundschaft verbindet, studierten sie doch beide zusammen einst an der Hochschule der Bildenden Künste in Hamburg.

Die Doku-Fiktion zeigt Oehlen, wie er mit einem Gemälde kämpft und über die Bedeutung seines Werks nachdenkt. Oehlen wird vom deutschen Schauspieler und Musiker Ben Becker gespielt und von der Stimme von Charlotte Rampling aus dem Off begleitet. Im Film erstellt Becker ein Gemälde, das Oehlen selbst hinter der Kamera Schritt für Schritt anfertigt, während der Schauspieler den Prozess wiederum vor der Kamera improvisiert.

Die wunderbare Musik zu diesem Film kommt von gleich zwei herausragenden Persönlichkeiten, die mit ihren individuellen Biographien und musikalischen Handschriften kaum besser zu diesem Projekt passen könnten. Auf der A-Seite ist dies Gudrun Gut, Ikone nicht nur der deutschen elektronischen Musikszene seit mindestens den 90er Jahren, Sängerin, Komponistin, DJ, Label-Betreiberin (Monika Enterprise) und natürlich Gründungsmitglied der legendären 80er Jahre New Wave-Band Malaria, auf der B-Seite der weltberühmte und Preisgekrönte US-amerikanische Avantgarde-Trompeter und Improvisationsmusiker Nathan “Nate” Wooley, der u.a. mit Fred Frith und John Zorn zusammengespielt hat.

Gudrun Gut’s Tracks tragen so schöne Titeln wie “Bewegung”, “Küste” oder “Weinen” und sie zieht hier einmal alle Register ihres großen Könnens und ihrer jahrzehntelangen Erfahrung als Produzentin der verschiedensten elektronischen Musikspielarten. Es sind ungewöhnliche und sehr viel experimentellere musikalische Gemälde, die sie hier entwirft als auf ihren jüngsten Solo-Werken. Kantig, eckig, roh und ungeschliffen und dabei immer elegant und schlau, unterläuft sie den im Film ausgiebig dargestellten männlichen Künstlerwahnsinn auf ihre ganz eigene Art und Weise.

Nathan Wooley antwortet mit dem ihm seit Kindesbeinen vertrauten Instrument, der Trompete, mit der er in der Lage ist, einen hinreißend virtuosen Lärm zu erzeugen. Seine Stücke sind eher Skizzen, oft nur 90 Sekunden oder ein paar wenige Minuten lang, die in all ihrer Abstraktheit das Narrativ des Films nahezu perfekt untermalen.

Eine auf insgesamt 20 Exemplare limitierte Edition, bemalt und signiert von Ben Becker, ist direkt über die JUBG zu erwerben.

Una interpretación de Soinuarenbidea II debería partir de esta premisa: todo es posible, nada es aleatorio, y en sí mismo es un imposible de aleatoriedades. El escenario planteado explora la idea de realidad aumentada desde una percepción sonora, ambiental y colectiva. La obra transita hacia adelante y hacia atrás recreando experiencias extintas de porvenir incierto, tratando de facilitar un fin pacificador. Cada pieza sonora se crea, se despliega, se repliega y se destruye, en una torsión permanente de toda la realidad que hace posible cada fragmento musical, cada identidad acústica, cada espacio sonoro. Lo onírico, la ficción, y el viaje están continuamente presentes, y es en el transitar de cada fragmento donde se produce el diálogo de la exposición musical. Los elementos de esta ficción se recrean continuamente, en un continuum donde se entrelazan y se van contorsionando a medida que crecen o decrecen con cada fragmento de síntesis concreta. Los temas explícitamente musicales son el magma que conduce a dar voluptuosidad al disco, siendo la piel un contexto o límite que en sí mismo fluctúa indefinidamente en texturas y configuraciones posibles. Y la urdimbre del silencio es la síntesis que está continuamente presente y que trata de cohesionar los fragmentos en continua colisión expresiva. Las grabaciones de campo proporcionan el material sonoro concreto, y como un fractal sonoro cada una de ellas ofrece diferentes grados de interpretación que a su vez conduce a nuevos fragmentos y nuevas creaciones. Así que se puede pensar que esta es una síntesis de una posible realidad, pero interpretable en infinidad de maneras. Un movimiento y una estaticidad implícitas que generan estructuras y dinámicas acústicas. Lo que se escucha no es real, pero en sí mismo forma parte de la realidad, creando un escenario expectante. Lo cinematográfico, plástico y teatral, danzante y dinámico cobra importancia en este juego, porque se trata de contar una historia, una experiencia recreada desde los puntos de vista del arte visual. Es a su vez hilo conductor y entretenimiento, discurso político y puro divertimento. Es desde este espacio de convivencia artística que tiene sentido la totalidad y justifica el formato sonoro planteado. La contradicción de la obra es patente en el formato, y es a su vez el planteamiento de una accidentalidad en el devenir vital. Contenedor de Ruido recoge todas estas contradicciones y las manifiesta en la obra Soinuarenbidea II. Es una historia sonora, es un cuento acústico. Es un fragmento de vitalidad en imágenes audibles. Es una invitación a la reflexión, a la crítica, al disfrute, a la meditación, a la celebración. Y sobre todo es esperanzadora apreciación de la realidad como algo maleable que confeccionamos colectivamente, que requiere de una paciente observación y la participación colectiva global, en un mundo finito pleno de diversidades y del que ignoramos prácticamente todo, al que deberíamos volver con respeto y devoción.

Soinuarenbidea II-ren interpretazio batek premisa honetatik abiatu beharko luke: dena da posible, ezer ez da ausazkoa, eta, berez, ausazkotasun ezinezko bat da. Planteatutako agertokiak errealitate areagotuaren ideia aztertzen du, soinu-, ingurumen- eta talde-pertzepzio batetik abiatuta. Lanak aurrera eta atzera egiten du, etorkizun zalantzagarriko esperientzia desagertuak birsortuz eta helburu baketsua lortzen saiatuz. Soinu-pieza bakoitza sortu, hedatu, tolestu eta suntsitu egiten da, musika-zati bakoitza, identitate akustiko bakoitza eta soinu-espazio bakoitza ahalbidetzen dituen errealitate osoaren etengabeko bihurdura batean. Onirikoa, fikzioa eta bidaia etengabe daude presente, eta pasarte bakoitzaren joan-etorrian gertatzen da musika-erakusketaren elkarrizketa. Fikzio honen elementuak etengabe birsortzen dira, continuum batean, non sintesi zati zehatz bakoitzarekin hazi edo txikitu ahala elkar lotzen eta bihurritzen diren. Esplizituki musikalak diren gaiak diskoari atsegintasuna ematera eramaten duen magma dira, azala testuingurua edo muga izanik, testura eta konfigurazio posibleetan mugarik gabe aldatzen dena. Eta isiltasunaren irazkia etengabe presente dagoen sintesia da, zatiak etengabeko adierazpen-talkan kohesionatzen saiatzen dena. Landa-grabazioek soinu-material zehatza ematen dute, eta soinu-fraktal batek bezala, horietako bakoitzak interpretazio-maila desberdinak eskaintzen ditu, eta horrek, aldi berean, zati eta sorkuntza berrietara eramaten du. Beraz, pentsa daiteke errealitate posible baten sintesia dela, baina hamaika modutan interpreta daitekeena. Egitura eta dinamika akustikoak sortzen dituzten mugimendu eta estatikotasun inplizitu bat. Entzuten dena ez da erreala, baina, berez, errealitatearen parte da, eta agertoki espektakularra sortzen du. Zinematografikoak, plastikoak eta antzerkikoak, dantzariak eta dinamikoak garrantzia hartzen dute joko honetan, ikusizko artearen ikuspegitik birsortutako istorio bat, esperientzia bat, kontatzea baita helburua. Aldi berean, hari gidaria eta entretenimendua da, diskurtso politikoa eta dibertimendu hutsa. Elkarbizitzarako espazio artistiko honetatik osotasunak zentzua du eta planteatutako soinu-formatua justifikatzen du. Obraren kontraesana nabarmena da formatuan, eta, aldi berean, bizi-bilakaeran istripu-tasa bat planteatzea da. Zarata-edukiontziak kontraesan horiek guztiak jasotzen ditu eta Soinuarenbidea II obran adierazten ditu. Soinu istorio bat da, ipuin akustiko bat. Bizitasun zati bat da, irudi entzungarrietan. Hausnarketarako, kritikarako, gozamenerako, meditaziorako eta ospakizunerako gonbidapena da. Eta, batez ere, itxaropentsua da errealitatea modu kolektiboan egiten dugun gauza xaflakor gisa hautematea, behaketa pazientea eta partaidetza kolektibo globala eskatzen dituena, dibertsitatez betetako mundu mugatu batean, ia guztia kontuan hartzen ez duguna, eta errespetuz eta debozioz itzuli beharko genukeena.

An interpretation of Soinuarenbidea II should start from this premise: everything is possible, nothing is random, and in itself is an impossible randomness. The proposed scenario explores the idea of ​​augmented reality from a sonic, environmental, and collective perception. The work moves back and forth, recreating extinct experiences of an uncertain future, seeking to facilitate a peaceful end. Each sound piece is created, unfolds, retreats, and is destroyed, in a permanent twisting of all reality that makes each musical fragment, each acoustic identity, each sonic space possible. The dreamlike, the fictional, and the journey are continually present, and it is in the transit of each fragment that the dialogue of the musical exposition takes place. The elements of this fiction are continually recreated, in a continuum where they intertwine and contort as they grow or diminish with each fragment of concrete synthesis. The explicitly musical themes are the magma that leads to the work's voluptuousness, the skin being a context or boundary that in itself fluctuates indefinitely in possible textures and configurations. And the warp of silence is the synthesis that is continually present and seeks to unite the fragments in a continuous expressive collision. The field recordings provide the concrete sound material, and like a sonic fractal, each one offers different degrees of interpretation that in turn lead to new fragments and new creations. So one can think of this as a synthesis of a possible reality, but interpretable in an infinite number of ways. An implicit movement and staticity that generate acoustic structures and dynamics. What is heard is not real, but in itself is part of reality, creating an expectant scenario. The cinematic, plastic and theatrical, dance and dynamic aspects take on importance in this game, because it is about telling a story, an experience recreated from the perspective of visual art. It is at once a common thread and entertainment, political discourse and pure entertainment. It is from this space of artistic coexistence that the whole makes sense and justifies the proposed sound format. The contradiction of the work is evident in its format, and it is, in turn, the presentation of an accidentality in the course of life. Noise Container gathers all these contradictions and manifests them in the work Soinuarenbidea II. It is a sound story, an acoustic tale. It is a fragment of vitality in audible images. It is an invitation to reflection, to critique, to enjoyment, to meditation, to celebration. And above all, it is a hopeful appreciation of reality as something malleable that we collectively craft, requiring patient observation and global collective participation, in a finite world full of diversity and of which we know practically nothing, to which we should return with respect and devotion.

Paisajes sonoros, diseño sonoro, drones y música grabada, realizada y arreglada para Contenedor de Ruido por David Aranaz. Coro: Basandere Ahotsak. Producido y mezclado por David Aranaz. Mástering: Estanis Elorza. Fotografía: David Aranaz. Texto: David Aranaz. Traducción: Saioa Aranaz Oreja. Trabajo y Diseño artístico: Cristina Martinez. Edición: Contenedor de Ruido Producciones y Sarbide Music. Distribución: Contenedor de Ruido.

Contenedor de Ruido agradece el apoyo en la realización de Soinuarenbidea II al coro Basandere Ahotsak y en especial a Eva Orbara Goicoa.

Soinuarenbidea II está dedicado al pueblo palestino.

Paisajes y objetos Sonoros, samplers y otras músicas transformadas para Soinuarenbidea II
Burlada: Paseos sonoros matinales por Merindad de Sangüesa, Calle Mayor, Capuchinas, Parque Uranga y varias iglesias y plazas. Pasajes del cotidiano: basura de papel, cristal y plástico.
Pamplona: Cementerio de San José. CEIP Sanduzelai /// Quinto Real: Fábrica de Armas, Puerto de Urkiaga y alrededores. Suite del silencio, bosques en movimiento /// Fábrica de armas de Orbaiceta: regatas, biosques, paseo sonoro hasta regata /// Belate: Puerto de Belate y alrededores. Vacas en pradera junto a las turberas /// Bardenas Reales: Suite de guitarra y Suite del silencio, estepa desértica /// Austria: Tranvías de Graz y Viena. Muchedumbre del metro de Viena.
Voces cinematográficas de: Matanza en Texas, Robocop, Espíritu Sagrado, Solo los Amantes Sobreviven, Voces de Gaza, Yojimbo, Terciopelo Azul, Los 7 Magníficos.
La pista A2 está dedicada a la memoria de David Lynch.
La pista B4 está dedicada a Eva Orbara Goicoa.
Pista A4: Contiene interpretaciones de piano de Three Piano Pieces Op.11 de Arnold Schoenberg.
Pista A5: Es una interpretación expandida con síntesis FM del Concerto Op. 24 - Etwas lebhaft - de Anton Webern.
Pista A7: Contiene la canción Besarkatu ninduzun (Letra de Josune López y música de Josu Elberdin) en interpretación de Basandere Ahotsak en la iglesia de Burutain bajo la tormenta.
Pista B2: Contiene la canción Recuerdos de la Alhambra (Fernando Tárrega) en interpretación torsionada de David Aranaz Sarasa.
Pista B14: Contiene la canción Agur María (Letra y Música de Estíbaliz Robles “Estitxu” y arreglo exclusivo de Alfonso Ortiz para Basandere Ahotsak) en interpretación de Basandere Ahotsak.

Equipamiento para Soinuarenbidea II.
Micros de condensador SE7, configuración XY y ORTF; Micros de cinta ORTIZ LUTHIER configuración XY y Blumlein; Grabadoras MARANTZ y ZOOM; Sintetizadores y samplers Elektron MONOMACHINE SPS-1, MACHINEDRUM SFX6 y MODEL:SAMPLES. Dave Smith MOPHO. Torso Electronics S-4. Sintetizador Modular 333 DIY; Guitarra clásica ALHAMBRA 6P; Esculturas Sonoras tipo Baschet, cristal y metales; Mesa Soundcraft FX16ii; Interface de Audio RME Babyface Pro FS; DAW Logic Pro; Procesamiento de modelado analógico con Acústica Audio, Waves, Softube, Brainworx, Sonible, Analog Obsesion, Tokio Dawn. Metering de Logic y RME DigiCheck . Amplificación Hafler PRO2400. Monitorización BW DM602 S3. Mezcla digital; Mastering híbrido.

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)

DIN SYNC DUB is an exploration of communication through sound. Six tightly packed experimental dub tracks use bass-heavy vibrations to rattle both body and mind, pushing the limits of self-expression in the hope of fostering deeper human connection.

The drive for more efficient and precise communication tools—whether between man and machine or machine and machine—has been a foundational force in the evolution of technology. This duality, the way we interface with computers and the way we speak to one another, is at the heart of DIN SYNC DUB. For this album, N1_SOUND looks back to 1980, drawing inspiration from Roland’s Din Sync—a 40-year-old synchronization technology once used to link musical machines in perfect harmony. While connecting machines to produce precisely sequenced music is nothing new, it’s the tension between perfection and imperfection—the mistakes of both man and machine—that gives DIN SYNC DUB its voice, its emotional rawness.

The journey begins with “Horizontal Hang”, which crashes through the door with a relentless bassline and crystalline synths. “Such Love” introduces a throbbing, guitar-driven groove, while “Intuition Dub” channels the spirit of Jah Shaka, offering a rhythmic pulse that echoes dub’s deep roots. “Us All” provides a moment of introspection with its sparse, three-dimensional melodies, before “Joy” reintroduces chaos, creating a post-dubstep soundscape that dismantles everything in its path. The album closes with “Mauzy” , a hopeful yet fragmented conclusion, reflecting the ever-evolving nature of technology and connection.

By the mid-to-late 1980s, Din Sync was superseded by the more widely adopted MIDI, yet obsolescence is built into the nature of all technology. Just as our relationship with machines shifts and fades, so too does our understanding of how those changes shape us. Before we can grasp the impact, the world has already moved on.

DIN SYNC DUB, the first full-length LP from Spiritual World, pulses with energy, on the edge of malfunction—a manifestation of the tension between the digital and the organic, the past and the present.

Headless (adj.) - a system or software operating without a user interface.

The special one! Mr. G’s productions are distinctive, deep, driving and, above all, a listen to behold. Like the man–machine interface between hypno house and roots techno, he manages to unite dance floors either through his High Mass–like live sets full of swing, grit and soul, or simply through other DJs playing his records.
Blessing Running Back for the second time, Mr. G’s Reconnection EP is the result of a serious dive into his vaults.
City Heat (G’s Underground Dub) is a picture-perfect example of his skill to groove without a doubt: raw, funky and fabulous. Serendipity and Work on the flip side complete this picture. Decades of record buying, music making and a love supreme for this culture rolled into one. Made yesterday, released today, and it will still sound great tomorrow. A personal gift from Mr. G’s archive to Running Back.

With Michaela Melián's LP "music for a while", a-Musik is releasing the first album by the visual artist, co-founder of F.S.K., and solo musician since "Monaco", which appeared on Monika Enterprise in 2013. While her last releases, Electric Ladyland (2016), Music from a Frontier Town (2018), and Tania (2022) were created as part of exhibitions and sound installations, "music for a while" is Melián's fourth autonomous LP, characterized on the one hand by her unmistakable dreamlike sound along the interfaces between dark chamber music, solemn ambient techno, and cinematic sound art.

As with her previous albums, there is also a wonderful avant-pop cover version—this time of the track “My Other Voice” (1979) by the Sparks. On the other hand, music for while, whose cover is adorned with Melián's photographs of the clouds above her new home of Marseille, spreads a comparatively ominous mood – one that is nevertheless appropriate given the circumstances in 2025 – thanks in part to the sedate, almost ticking drum sounds of co-producer Felix Raethel. Once again, the multi-instrumentalist, supported by Ruth May on violin and Elen Harutyunyan on viola, weaves her recordings of various string instruments — cello, guitar, bass, and zither — into fascinating, lurching, looping, and almost hypnotic soundscapes, but atonal synthesizer sounds in tracks such as “traverse benjamin” and “märchenwald” open up the music to electroacoustic and experimental music. The concluding cover version of Irving Berlin's “they say it's wonderful” (1946) rounds off one of this year's most impressive releases in an incomparably groovy and melancholic way.

Emily A. Sprague's Cloud Time traces an audio-spiritual journey through time and place, recorded across a long-awaited debut tour of Japan in the fall of 2024. Compiled from environmental improvisations captured in and for the moment, material at once welcoming, responsive, and inimitable, the album distills a voyage guided by psychic wayfaring, unbound presence, and activating performance for a reciprocal exchange with space, listener, and each fully engaged instant. The Japanese tour documented on Cloud Time held an almost mythic significance for Sprague, taking on properties of her own sonic white whale. After many near-departures and dropped plans to play in the country, "the empty spaces of cancelled trips and forgotten music turned into strange little misty spirits that I felt followed by," she says. "When I began preparing for the tour, I couldn't shake a sense that the invitation to Japan was more about opening myself up to this new place instead of bringing something into it tightly under my control. Improvisation has always been such a pillar in my music practice, and I really wanted to meet the country, spaces and people through that process." To amplify these intuitive whispers on-stage, Sprague reimagined her time-tested live rig, designed to be as free from error as possible, as a looser, more flexible set up that would allow her to interface with what was essentially a blank sonic canvas every night. Each performance became a collaboration between environment and instinct, Sprague processing the events, energies, and emotions informing the evening through her new sound ecosystem, and projecting an entirely present and unique version of herself to each open-eared and hearted crowd. "It was very much more than just an act of playing for me, but a total experience of time and place," she says. The seven long-form pieces that plot the course of Cloud Time, excerpted from over eight hours of recordings archived on the artist's on-stage recorder and generously shared on the album with no additional mixing and only minimal editing, invite listeners to become still in these deep-rooted moments of presence as the album moves from city to city, venue to venue. Cloud Time chronicles material recorded at each tour stop, Sprague selecting and sequencing the album around mood-based storytelling more so than linear chronology. "I tried to make the whole album flow in the way that any one of the complete live performances did," she explains, "while also keeping the spirit of the whole thing as a journey." The result is equal parts travelog, love letter, and impressionistic collage channeled from the potent ferment of a now encased in the glowing amber of memory. Intrinsically inspired by kankyo ongaku, an environmental music philosophy, known both in and widely outside of Japan that tunes into the similarly expansive ethos as Pauline Oliveros' deep listening practice and posits the listener as composer, Cloud Time is ambient music that seems to be listening right back, grounded in heartfelt synthesized frequencies that abundantly hold and heal. Pieces like "Nagoya," "Tokyo 1," and the ten minute "Matsumoto" in particular hum with the atomic resonance of gently tended landscapes, offering space for tuning way in and dropping far out from perspectives that stifle and bind. Cloud Time is an invitation to embrace each moment as both fleeting and eternal, floating by with nothing to grasp onto and absolutely everything to gain. The exercise in acceptance and letting go that Sprague practiced throughout the tour deeply impacted her understanding of self as both a guest and venerable performer. "The process of loving wherever I am, being present and focusing on a clear channel of communication for mind and emotion, rooted so deeply in respect for the space, those within it, and myself, ended up being profoundly healing," she says. "My vision and hope is that this album can be released as a gift back to anyone who either was or wasn't there. A cloud time of life passing by."

RYC presents a four-track journey at the junction of their respective universes, teleporting us straight to a propulsive, mind-expanding headspace as we're invited to explore sonic territories still uncharted and harmonics yet unravelled. The collaborative A-side begins with the dynamic title-track, 'Cross Passage', a proactively future-facing number packing the kind of utopian drive that used to define the original techno sound. A highly cinematic narrative boasting Detroit-style vision and epic breath, 'Cross Passage' builds bridges between hi-tech elation and organic integration, transcending mere functionality to push back and expand the limits of techno as a deep communication vessel between the individual and the mass. Firing off like a binary script gone astray, 'Fibre Axis' takes us on a further bumpy ride across shape-shifting interfaces and blurred-out digital scapes, via abrupt pixel landslides and fractured 3D renderings. Side-B finds each producer dishing out a slice of his/her own musical idiom. Polygonia strikes first with the pulsating 'Voltage Blues' - a mesmeric roller cut from pure eerie synth algebra, boundary-pushing abstraction and surgical but experimental-leaning rhythmic assault. The result is a piece of cutting-edge techno hoodoo, ready to take on clubs with utmost abrasive swagger. Sniping a hail of rainbow-like analogue synth outpour, Wata Igarashi's solo contribution 'The Tunnel Dreams' rounds off the journey on a fiercely nonconformist note. Merging a hard-hitting main swing with 8-bit-esque audio pointillism and brooding bass undertones, the Japanese producer cuts a path of antigravitational abandon and relentless rush towards absolving euphoria, which shall leave all in the room levitating somewhere between sheer daze and love-thirsty XTC. *Clad in the sleekest cover art courtesy of designer Atact, RYCL024 is pressed to red & white marbled vinyl for you, fancy platter collectors and picky audio-visual aesthetes alike.

Emily A. Sprague's Cloud Time traces an audio-spiritual journey through time and place, recorded across a long-awaited debut tour of Japan in the fall of 2024. Compiled from environmental improvisations captured in and for the moment, material at once welcoming, responsive, and inimitable, the album distills a voyage guided by psychic wayfaring, unbound presence, and activating performance for a reciprocal exchange with space, listener, and each fully engaged instant. The Japanese tour documented on Cloud Time held an almost mythic significance for Sprague, taking on properties of her own sonic white whale. After many near-departures and dropped plans to play in the country, "the empty spaces of cancelled trips and forgotten music turned into strange little misty spirits that I felt followed by," she says. "When I began preparing for the tour, I couldn't shake a sense that the invitation to Japan was more about opening myself up to this new place instead of bringing something into it tightly under my control. Improvisation has always been such a pillar in my music practice, and I really wanted to meet the country, spaces and people through that process." To amplify these intuitive whispers on-stage, Sprague reimagined her time-tested live rig, designed to be as free from error as possible, as a looser, more flexible set up that would allow her to interface with what was essentially a blank sonic canvas every night. Each performance became a collaboration between environment and instinct, Sprague processing the events, energies, and emotions informing the evening through her new sound ecosystem, and projecting an entirely present and unique version of herself to each open-eared and hearted crowd. "It was very much more than just an act of playing for me, but a total experience of time and place," she says. The seven long-form pieces that plot the course of Cloud Time, excerpted from over eight hours of recordings archived on the artist's on-stage recorder and generously shared on the album with no additional mixing and only minimal editing, invite listeners to become still in these deep-rooted moments of presence as the album moves from city to city, venue to venue. Cloud Time chronicles material recorded at each tour stop, Sprague selecting and sequencing the album around mood-based storytelling more so than linear chronology. "I tried to make the whole album flow in the way that any one of the complete live performances did," she explains, "while also keeping the spirit of the whole thing as a journey." The result is equal parts travelog, love letter, and impressionistic collage channeled from the potent ferment of a now encased in the glowing amber of memory. Intrinsically inspired by kankyo ongaku, an environmental music philosophy, known both in and widely outside of Japan that tunes into the similarly expansive ethos as Pauline Oliveros' deep listening practice and posits the listener as composer, Cloud Time is ambient music that seems to be listening right back, grounded in heartfelt synthesized frequencies that abundantly hold and heal. Pieces like "Nagoya," "Tokyo 1," and the ten minute "Matsumoto" in particular hum with the atomic resonance of gently tended landscapes, offering space for tuning way in and dropping far out from perspectives that stifle and bind. Cloud Time is an invitation to embrace each moment as both fleeting and eternal, floating by with nothing to grasp onto and absolutely everything to gain. The exercise in acceptance and letting go that Sprague practiced throughout the tour deeply impacted her understanding of self as both a guest and venerable performer. "The process of loving wherever I am, being present and focusing on a clear channel of communication for mind and emotion, rooted so deeply in respect for the space, those within it, and myself, ended up being profoundly healing," she says. "My vision and hope is that this album can be released as a gift back to anyone who either was or wasn't there. A cloud time of life passing by." Emily A. Sprague's Cloud Time will be released Friday, October 10th in vinyl, Japanese import CD (via Plancha), and digital editions.

Erik K Skodvin summons his alter ego Svarte Greiner for a dive into the dark, wintery Swedish forest with the score to the psychological thriller/horror film “From Darkness” (orig: Ur Mörkret).

The film is director Philip W. Da Silva's debut and is set largely at night, deep in a Swedish nature reserve where mining used to take place. Loss, mental health and Nordic mythology come together in a story that revolves around the search for a missing woman. The score follows an eclectic and atmospherical path throughout the narrative with an uneasy underlaying vibe; although one with occasional points of refuge in the otherwise vast darkness. There is a gloomy, barely tangible sound of Nordic folk tradition buried in the music, even if it comes across in a different, more abstract way, where the various instruments are often used more as sound sources that are improvised (and abused) into becoming their own element. Skodvin performed and recorded the majority himself. In addition, he commissioned free improviser Axel Dörner to participate with his unique, custom-built electro-acoustic interface, which, along with Claudio Puntin's processed reeds and additional electronics, has been built into the elaborate backdrops to create an entire world that balances on the border between the approachable and the elusive - not unlike the journey of the protagonists. Skodvin's partner in Deaf Center, Otto A Totland, appears on piano in the stand out piece “What have you become?”.

The result is a harrowing yet deeply melancholic journey through the human psyche. One that echoes through the dark forests, cabins and lost mines of the desolate Swedish woodlands.

“It is presumed that as humans mined ore in the 1800s, they had many mishaps and dug too deep, leading them to assume they had unleashed some evil spirit that was guarding the ore. She was referred to as "Cave Wraith". It was said that she employed darkness to lure miners to their deaths. They prohibited villagers from visiting during the darkest months of the year. Some used sacrifices to subdue the evil entity.”

The vinyl is released in an edition of 150 numbered copies, with screenprinted artwork on black cardboard inside a screenprinted PVC sleeve, incl. Riso-printed insert with liner notes by Mike Lazarev, 180g vinyl.