Search:into you

Oceanine, Jolanda Moletta’s third album and her first for Beacon Sound, is a powerful and ethereal statement of artistic community. Expanding on her previous work, each track represents a collaboration with a different female vocalist, with the foundational elements being generated entirely by her own voice. By turns haunting, enchanting, and inspiring, you won’t want to come up for air once you’ve been pulled under. Representing a
musical practice that is distinctly feminist, this is an album with a longer view in mind, to an age when the altars were to goddesses and women were centered as powerful beings representing the earth’s cycles of regeneration and renewal. Oceanine then, in all its beauty, can be viewed as an album of survival. It is deeply transportive, accessing something that lies within all of us. As the late, great Lithuanian folklorist and archaeologist Marija Gimbutas noted, “We must refocus our collective memory. The necessity for this has never been greater as we discover that the path of 'progress' is extinguishing the very conditions for life on earth.”

Jolanda Moletta is a multimedia artist and one-woman electronic choir. She creates wordless compositions through extended vocal techniques, integrating wearable-controlled live processing, alongside symbolic visuals. Moletta considers her performances to be a collective ritual and creates her Sonic & Visual Spells following the cycles of nature and the moon. Jolanda's 2022 critically acclaimed album Nine Spells was released on the Ambientologist label, followed by Night Caves on Whitelabrecs in 2025. Moletta’s artistic practice is a radical and spiritual journey through sound art, ritual, and the symbolic archaeology of the feminine.

Oceanine is inspired by sirens, water nymphs, and the timeless call of the sea. At its core lies Jolanda’s deep, lifelong connection to the Mediterranean Sea and to the ancient and modern myths and folklore that have emerged from its waters. Growing up by the Mar Ligure, Jolanda was surrounded by stories carried by salt, wind, and waves: legends of sirens, echoes of ancient voices, and the sea as both origin and oracle. This intimate relationship with the Mediterranean is not merely a backdrop, but a living source that shapes Oceanine’s emotional, symbolic, and sonic world.

Each track features a different female vocalist, creating a rich tapestry of voices, styles, and perspectives. This artistic choice not only broadens the album’s sonic palette, but also deepens its narrative core: celebrating the power, beauty, and mystique of feminine energy through myth, history, and sound.

The entire album is built exclusively from the human voice, processed and layered, yet always remaining voice, and nothing else. For each piece, Jolanda invited every vocalist involved to contribute a raw stem: a short, unedited melodic fragment of just a few seconds, inspired by the album’s themes. These intimate vocal seeds became the foundation of each track: the guest artists’ voices appear as brief, melodic stems, while the entire surrounding “orchestral” fabric is created solely from Jolanda’s own layered and processed voice. In this way, Jolanda’s voice becomes the Ocean itself, embracing, absorbing, and carrying the sirens’ calls within a vast, immersive soundscape. Every song is a unique expression of the feminine experience, revealing its depth, complexity, and emotional range, echoing the call of the sea and the many faces of the siren archetype.

The figure of the siren has transformed across centuries. In myths of Ancient Greece and Rome, sirens were hybrid beings, part woman, part bird, whose irresistible songs lured sailors to their doom. During the Middle Ages, the image shifted toward the half-woman, half-fish figure, often associated with temptation and danger. Historically, the voice of women has often been feared. Sirens were considered harbingers of misfortune not simply because they seduced or destroyed, but because they were powerful liminal beings.

In Ancient Greek, sirens functioned as psychopomps: figures who existed between worlds and guided souls, especially between life and death. Their songs were believed to carry forbidden knowledge, including prophetic insight and the ability to reveal truths about fate and the future. The danger of the sirens lay in what they revealed: knowledge that humans were not meant, or ready, to hear.

Oceanine confronts this legacy head-on. The voices heard throughout the album are not merely beautiful: they are dark and luminous, wild and enchanting, magical, soothing, dreamy, and at times fractured or distorted. They whisper, lament, beckon, and enchant. Like sirens, they skim the surface of the water and sink into its depths, hovering on the edge between tenderness and danger, vulnerability and power. They rise toward the sky, dissolve into mist, and return as echoes charged with raw, elemental emotion: voices that seduce, warn, mourn, and remember. They refuse to be reduced to decoration.

Alongside the album’s release in May, Oceanine will also unfold as a visual and performative work through a short art film. The film includes a live session recorded inside a sea cave facing the Mar Ligure, the very coastline where Jolanda spent her childhood, dreaming of sirens and listening to the sea as if it were speaking directly to her. This site-specific performance reconnects the music to its place of origin, allowing the voice to resonate within stone, water, and air, and transforming the cave into both a sanctuary and a threshold between myth and reality.

What if the sirens’ songs were considered dangerous because they carried another truth, an ancient truth long forgotten?

Oceanine embraces the idea that we are still deeply woven into myth. Though we may see ourselves as rational and modern beings, our world is saturated with ancient symbols and archetypes, often distorted, simplified, or stripped of their original meaning. And if those symbols are allowed to shift, if the mirror once held by the siren becomes an invitation to look beyond appearances and into what has been obscured, then we may finally uncover a deeper truth and reclaim the voice that was always ours.

Oceanine is not just an album. It is a reclamation, a spell, and a call from the depths.

They Came Like Swallows is the first album-length collaboration between Thurston Moore and Kramer (now officially Bonner Kramer), two giants of alternative/ experimental music. The accomplishments and influence of these two artists in the world of independent music cannot be overstated and the result of their artistic union is a startlingly cohesive statement that burns through landscapes of primitive outsider rock, avant-garde composition, progressive ambient and further locales boldly and beautifully unnamable. “Kramer and I reconnected in Miami, Florida, a few years back, many many years after each of us had departed NYC on separate life adventures. It was only a matter of time before Kramer and I started making plans to record together and with his irrepressible due diligence he quickly set up a mobile recording contraption in the pad I was decamped in, the Florida sunshine flowing through the palm leaves, lithe lizards skittering across the windowsills, and we just went for it.

Kramer had the idea to cover a Joy Division tune, a left turn from the improvisations we had been tracking, though wholly in keeping with both our sensibilities of light and dark unifying in transcendent songwriting, both of us devotees of 'the song' as well as 'the freedom.’ What transpired is They Came Like Swallows, a session we immediately felt should exist as a prayer to the war-torn souls of the families of Palestine continually decimated by the brutality of genocide. We agreed beyond words to offer our music as a sonic activism and as a beneficent energy. This album is our duo exchange for human dignity, it is our soul music for any semblance of a peaceful planet.” ~ Thurston Moore “For the first time in our nearly 45 years of friendship, we had identical time windows open to make a record together,” recounts Kramer. After all this time not a moment is wasted as the duo immediately taps into the heightened core of improvisational tension across these seven offerings. Volcanic opener “Urn Burial” notches a similar historic union (John Cale and Terry Riley) to meet the circumstances of the moment, with swirling mists of organ and pounding toms over guitar that thickens the atmosphere with jagged, grimy dissonance.

Solemn strings open the second track, “The Redness In The West,” with Kramer’s cello and viola in dueling bow beneath the high tension drive and sustain of Thurston’s electric guitar, tapping out a Morse code of tension that mounts endlessly into a fog of inevitable war by the end. Moore and Kramer’s sense of experimentalism is in free and full grandeur throughout They Came Like Swallows, though the duo keep a strong and constant sideways eye on melody, composition and architecture, to the ends that any strict lines between song and improvisation are blurred beyond qualification.

As if to punctuate this point, Swallows closes with a nightwork cover of Joy Division’s “Insight,” a doleful coda that breathes out with a solemn inner grace under Thurston’s instantly stylistically recognizable guitar melodies as they weave into he and Kramer’s unison voices. As the lone vocal piece and only traditional ‘song’ form on the album, “Insight” is unique to this set and as a closing statement draws connective lines back to the kind of dynamic, electrified melodicism that wove deep, melancholy patterns into the untamed fire of Sonic Youth’s Sister and Daydream Nation. In the album’s final moments, the two voices repeat the lyric “I’m not afraid anymore” as mantra, underscoring the heavy, unsettled themes and methods that preceded it. Kramer describes the creative process of They Came Like Swallows: “I had composed and recorded a few pieces at my home studio over the course of a couple weeks. Thurston was spending the winter in South Florida, so I flew down and spent a few days recording his guitar parts in his home there. Watching him spontaneously compose his parts was pretty astonishing, to say the least. Once we'd finished working on those pieces, we began improvising and following wherever the music pointed us, and another few pieces were born. We got straight to it, without anything driving us other than the joy of finally working together.

My personal goal was to remain present and catch as many surprises as I could from Thurston's guitar work, and there were plenty during those few days. We had a fucking blast.” Thurston’s contributions here will be readily familiar to any acolytes of his other works, the through-line between his inspired playing, cradled in Kramer’s meticulous, solid arrangements. “If I had to make this record again, I'd do it all exactly the same way,” Kramer says. “It’s like jazz, you don't think about it. You just do it. It was miraculous, and you don't fuck with a miracle.”

They Came Like Swallows is the first album-length collaboration between Thurston Moore and Kramer (now officially Bonner Kramer), two giants of alternative/ experimental music. The accomplishments and influence of these two artists in the world of independent music cannot be overstated and the result of their artistic union is a startlingly cohesive statement that burns through landscapes of primitive outsider rock, avant-garde composition, progressive ambient and further locales boldly and beautifully unnamable. “Kramer and I reconnected in Miami, Florida, a few years back, many many years after each of us had departed NYC on separate life adventures. It was only a matter of time before Kramer and I started making plans to record together and with his irrepressible due diligence he quickly set up a mobile recording contraption in the pad I was decamped in, the Florida sunshine flowing through the palm leaves, lithe lizards skittering across the windowsills, and we just went for it.

Kramer had the idea to cover a Joy Division tune, a left turn from the improvisations we had been tracking, though wholly in keeping with both our sensibilities of light and dark unifying in transcendent songwriting, both of us devotees of 'the song' as well as 'the freedom.’ What transpired is They Came Like Swallows, a session we immediately felt should exist as a prayer to the war-torn souls of the families of Palestine continually decimated by the brutality of genocide. We agreed beyond words to offer our music as a sonic activism and as a beneficent energy. This album is our duo exchange for human dignity, it is our soul music for any semblance of a peaceful planet.” ~ Thurston Moore “For the first time in our nearly 45 years of friendship, we had identical time windows open to make a record together,” recounts Kramer. After all this time not a moment is wasted as the duo immediately taps into the heightened core of improvisational tension across these seven offerings. Volcanic opener “Urn Burial” notches a similar historic union (John Cale and Terry Riley) to meet the circumstances of the moment, with swirling mists of organ and pounding toms over guitar that thickens the atmosphere with jagged, grimy dissonance.

Solemn strings open the second track, “The Redness In The West,” with Kramer’s cello and viola in dueling bow beneath the high tension drive and sustain of Thurston’s electric guitar, tapping out a Morse code of tension that mounts endlessly into a fog of inevitable war by the end. Moore and Kramer’s sense of experimentalism is in free and full grandeur throughout They Came Like Swallows, though the duo keep a strong and constant sideways eye on melody, composition and architecture, to the ends that any strict lines between song and improvisation are blurred beyond qualification.

As if to punctuate this point, Swallows closes with a nightwork cover of Joy Division’s “Insight,” a doleful coda that breathes out with a solemn inner grace under Thurston’s instantly stylistically recognizable guitar melodies as they weave into he and Kramer’s unison voices. As the lone vocal piece and only traditional ‘song’ form on the album, “Insight” is unique to this set and as a closing statement draws connective lines back to the kind of dynamic, electrified melodicism that wove deep, melancholy patterns into the untamed fire of Sonic Youth’s Sister and Daydream Nation. In the album’s final moments, the two voices repeat the lyric “I’m not afraid anymore” as mantra, underscoring the heavy, unsettled themes and methods that preceded it. Kramer describes the creative process of They Came Like Swallows: “I had composed and recorded a few pieces at my home studio over the course of a couple weeks. Thurston was spending the winter in South Florida, so I flew down and spent a few days recording his guitar parts in his home there. Watching him spontaneously compose his parts was pretty astonishing, to say the least. Once we'd finished working on those pieces, we began improvising and following wherever the music pointed us, and another few pieces were born. We got straight to it, without anything driving us other than the joy of finally working together.

My personal goal was to remain present and catch as many surprises as I could from Thurston's guitar work, and there were plenty during those few days. We had a fucking blast.” Thurston’s contributions here will be readily familiar to any acolytes of his other works, the through-line between his inspired playing, cradled in Kramer’s meticulous, solid arrangements. “If I had to make this record again, I'd do it all exactly the same way,” Kramer says. “It’s like jazz, you don't think about it. You just do it. It was miraculous, and you don't fuck with a miracle.”

Somewhere close to Manchester’s ever changing city centre, as the sun fades and peeks through the newest glass facade, you’ll find Shaking Hand. One part in shadow, the other basking in prisms of light as they sketch out their own sonic landscapes in the dusty redbrick mill they call home. One that is just about clinging on from the encroaching developments that surround them.

Against this back-drop where buildings are constantly torn down & built back again, the three piece craft away. Pulling from early post-rock, and 90s US alternative rock, crafting their own brand of Northwest-emo. Assembling something new, yet nostalgic. Looking ahead towards the transforming horizon. Shaking Hand’s music is built on tension and release – quiets that stretch, louds that overwhelm. Repetition that feels both hypnotic and destabilising.

The band’s musical DNA runs through experimental guitar outfits like Women, Slint, Sonic Youth, Pavement, and Ulrika Spacek, balanced with the melodic sensibility of Big Thief and the dynamic intimacy of Yo La Tengo. Their compositions push against structure: sudden jolts of tempo, polyrhythms that almost fall apart, and riffs that unravel into something fragile or ecstatic. Yet, as Ellis notes, there’s an underlying warmth too: “Like walking through an empty city late at night but catching flickers of life in the buildings you pass.”

Early ideas like ‘Night Owl’ and ‘Sundance’ grew out of George’s lockdown “bedroom years,” where new tunings (open E, drop D, and stranger Pavement-inspired set-ups) opened up uncharted textures. Later, in grim rehearsal rooms, the murky epic ‘Cable Ties’ and the hypnotic ‘Mantras’ absorbed the gloom and grit of the band’s surroundings.

The album was recorded with producer David Pye (Wild Beasts, Teenage Fanclub) at Nave Studios in Leeds, housed in a converted church. “The live room was huge and perfect for capturing our sound,” says George. Determined to bottle their onstage energy, the band tracked the foundations live, layering vocals and guitars later. Soviet-era microphones, odd mic placements, and even phone-recorded demos fed into the mix. “You’ve got to watch out for David though,” Freddie laughs. “He made me play four tambourines in one hand, really hurt, man.”

Lyrically, the record drifts between abstraction and lived moments. George’s words often spill out instinctively, words falling into place before their meaning becomes clear. “A lot of the lyrics look like they’re buried in abstraction,” he says, “but when I look back I can see what they were about — whether that’s an emotional response at the time or just an observation of what was happening around me”. There’s contrast at the heart of it all – optimism vs. doubt, the lightness of youth vs. the monotony of work, a city in constant redevelopment vs. the people drifting through it.

The album artwork is taken from unused plans for the 1970s redevelopment of Los Angeles by architect Ray Kappe, entitled ‘People Movers’. Hypothetical buildings for real people, it feels a complement to the band’s own constructions. One thing’s for sure, Shaking Hand’s debut is built to last.

Preston duo White Flowers announce new album, Dreams For Somebody Else - due for release 1st May 2026 via The state51 Conspiracy.
White Flowers, the long-running collaboration between Joey Cobb and Katie Drew, exists within what they call “the realm” – a shared creative space, wherein time, rather than being a restrictive force, is fluid and boundless, and music exists as an endless conversation with their past and present selves. Adopting what the band describe as a “sketchbook” approach to writing, White Flowers is the product of a decade’s worth of recordings - snippets nestled away on hard drives, only to truly make sense years later.
On Dreams For Somebody Else, the band expand upon the dark-hued dream pop of their debut, channeling the catharsis of dance music via repetitive structures and “sad, euphoric sounds”. Working alongside LCD Soundsystem and Hot Chip’s Al Doyle on production, the album maps out a mosaic of soaring choruses that swirl around imposing arrays of synths, guitars, and percussion.
Through this new lens, the band explore themes of isolation, dissociation and identity - drawing inspiration from Annie Ernaux’s The Years. “Whilst recording the songs for ‘Dreams For Somebody Else’, we really connected with the concept of Annie Ernaux’s book, ‘The Years’ - a ‘collective autobiography’ pieced together from mismatched fragments from her past, conjuring the effect that she’s merely an observer of her own life. This concept merges into the White Flowers world, where time, rather than being restrictive, is fluid and boundless, with our music existing as an endless conversation with versions of ourselves at different stages of our lives.”
“The album has that same feeling of disassociating from your own life, because you’re just blending into everyone else”, the band explains. “There’s a sadness there, because it’s as if you’re looking back on things that happened to you, and they feel like they don’t belong to you anymore”. It’s the dull ache of nostalgia intertwined with a sense of wonder at what could lie ahead - the hopeful optimism and endless loss that defines the human experience. “It’s this idea of identity not being a fixed thing, but something that’s always changing. It’s a fluid thing, similar to time. Things aren’t really fixed, but rather in a constant state of change. It’s important to remember that we’re all going through that.”

Heavyweight psychedelic improvisers EarthBall are back with their third and most monstrous record to date: ‘Outside Over There’, released on Upset The Rhythm (Nov 7th). Born from the haunted basements of Nanaimo, Canada, the quintet thrives on spontaneity, shaping improvisation into jagged hallucinations and ecstatic eruptions.
Recorded live-off-the-floor in 2024 in Jeremy, Izzy, and Kellen’s basement, and mixed by drummer John Brennan, ‘Outside Over There’ is an album that feels both summoned and inevitable. Each track lands with uncanny purpose, as if uncovered rather than written.
The opener, 100%, features a cameo from comedian and English icon Stewart Lee, who lent his blessing for the band to use a fragment of his stand-up. The album was mastered by John Dieterich (Deerhoof), with liner text contributed by longtime comrade John Olson (Wolf Eyes). Olson describes the album in his unmistakable style:
“This eight-track odyssey unfolds like a dreamscape, where whispered incantations brush against the shadowy fringes of the cosmos, and wild, Cézanne-inspired rock anthems erupt like geysers of color in the midst of a western warm and wet rain storm… culminating in the sprawling eleven minute masterpiece, ‘And The Music Shall Untune The Sky,’ aptly dubbed the Earth Crusher. A creation so utterly deconstructed and intertwined with the pulse of nature itself that if AI was called upon to conceive ‘Outside Over There’ anew, it would just spit back, “F.U. in Tree Font”. An enchanting invitation for even the flat-earthers to join the circle, if only just a little.”
EarthBall’s trajectory has been relentless. Their 2024 album ‘It’s Yours’ was praised by The Quietus as “fully aggressive and fully life-affirming,” and by The Wire as "a boisterous mind-melting album”. The band’s live double set LP ‘Actual Earth Music Vol. 1 & 2’ (2025) captured blistering performances: a performance opening for Wolf Eyes at the Fox Cabaret, and a Café OTO improvised throw-down featuring Chris Corsano and Steve Beresford. These releases on their own confirm them as one of Canada’s most vital experimental exports, not to mention the impressive self-released discography on their Bandcamp. The band’s reach has stretched far beyond their west coast roots with a UK tour May 2024, plus this past June, EarthBall closed Montreal’s Suoni Per Il Popolo Festival alongside Pulitzer Prize-winning composer Raven Chacon. This November they will perform at Le Guess Who? Festival in Utrecht, with a European tour to follow (tour dates below). Outside of EarthBall, each member carries their own torch. Jeremy Van Wyck, founding member of the legendary Shearing Pinx, has toured extensively, released over 100 records, and has been a vital force in the Vancouver and West Coast underground for the past 25 years. He and Isabel Ford (Izzy) play together not only in EarthBall, but also in Psychedelic Dirt, Shearing Pinx, Behaviours, and Crotch.
John Brennan collaborates widely, including recently with Endlings (Raven Chacon and John Dieterich), Evichen (Victoria Shen), Francesco Fonassi, Plan Your Future (with Greg Saunier of Deerhoof), Brennan/Corsano duo and Physics with John Dieterich. Kellen Maclaughlin performs with KVMP and Ora Corgan, while saxophonist Liam Murphy is a west coast staple, playing with the best across Vancouver Island and the mainland. On three of the tracks of ‘Outside Over There’, the band is joined by their comrade Justin Patterson, who also plays with Brennan in the duo Modale. This cross-pollination fuels EarthBall’s sound - a collective improvisation, psychically overdriven, and grinding into bloom.
Outside Over There’ is more than an album though, it is a ritual, a gathering of sound at the forest’s edge; where feedback, saxophone screams, and ecstatic vocals dissolve the boundary between chaos and clarity. EarthBall invite you into their circle, to share in the joyful terror of spontaneous creation. ‘Outside Over There’ will be released on November 7th through Upset The Rhythm digitally and as a limited blue-in-black vinyl LP.

Out now via 7 Mater, in collaboration with The Circle Music for worldwide distribution, this special edition of Stolen Season Pt. I captures both the essence of the project and the spirit of the upcoming full-length Stolen Season Pt. I. This first pressing is destined to become a collector's item: numbered and limited to 250 black vinyl copies and 250 gold vinyl copies, each edition comes housed in a deluxe sleeve with an exclusive 30x30 insert that perfectly frames the visual world of the band. It is a striking presentation that mirrors the richness of the music contained within. The creative force behind From The Land is Anatoly Pakhalenko, best known as the frontman of the acclaimed dark folk ensemble Nytt Land.

Conceived in 2025, this new project serves as an alter ego for Pakhalenko, allowing him to explore the darker edges of country, blues, and folk traditions while weaving them into a world described as "a black and white landscape, tired of all this s**t that's going on around and gradually sinking into an endless sleep". Together with Aleksandr Rosliakov, Pakhalenko composed Stolen Season Pt. I between January and May 2025 at Nytt Land Studio, handling recording, mixing, and production duties himself. The result is an album that resonates with uncompromising artistic vision and raw emotional depth. From The Land 's universe draws inspiration from the haunting literary realms of H.P. Lovecraft and Edgar Allan Poe, as well as the surreal, unsettling imagery of David Lynch. This heady mixture of influences creates a soundscape that is equally cinematic and visceral, where ritual meets ruin, and folk traditions dissolve into the smoke of blues and country noir.

The album is a powerful reaffirmation of human creativity: "My music has always been about connection, bringing enduring old stories into conversation with contemporary life," Portman says. "This album is a collective, entirely human-made effort, and it's richer because of it." Renowned for her luminous songwriting and distinctive voice in contemporary folk, Portman steps into bold new territory with an album that charts a heroine's midlife journey through dark woods in search of wonder. Drawing on ballads and folktales, Dominion of Spells explores themes of burnout, misogyny, motherhood, miscarriage and personal transformation, weaving lived experience with mythic imagery and traditional folk narratives. The title track, Dominion of Spells , reclaims a 17th- century phrase once used to diagnose women as "disordered", drawing on the myth of the wandering womb and the long history of medical misogyny. Portman transforms these ideas into a vision of a freer, fairer realm where women's bodies are understood rather than feared. The first single, Turn Again , is a tender meditation on parenthood, inspired by her young son's imaginative shapeshifting games and echoing the Tam Lin ballad, where steadfast love breaks a powerful spell. Elsewhere, the album explores women's right to move safely after dark, genderswapped retellings of heroic quests, miscarriage, phone addiction and the restorative power of creative practice.

The second season of the funny and heartfelt fiction series by Flo Van Deuren and Kato De Boeck takes us along as Bibi and Ama move on to the next chapter of their lives and into their new, unexpected home: an old daycare building. With school no longer providing structure and their wallets running on empty, they dive headfirst into adulthood.

This results in eight new episodes that, like the main characters, have grown up, yet remain just as hilarious and moving as ever.

With the second season of Roomies, the show’s award-winning music makes its return. This time with a powerful soundtrack featuring Eefje de Visser, Ategha (Ahlaam Teghadouini) & Mickael Karkousse (Goose), Maria Iskariot, and Porcelain ID.

“(Tijdbom) Tikkend” is a dark, electronic track that feels like a constant run: sometimes away from the other, sometimes right toward them. It captures the feeling of running out of time, losing each other, and wanting to reconnect. That push-and-pull dynamic felt like a perfect fit for Roomies, where relationships, drama, and fun are always intertwined. - Eefje de Visser

“Whatever Happens” came together in a very organic way, and you can hear that in the track. Raw, genuine, and effortless. What’s unique is that we hadn’t even met until a few days before. Ahlaam walked into the studio and said, “I’ve prepared something.” That opening line alone was fantastic and immediately showed confidence and courage. “Perfect,” I thought. Then we turned the volume up to maximum, and I listened as Ahlaam sang right by my ear. Instant goosebumps! - Mickael Karkousse

""Neverland", the fourteenth studio album by ULVER is the sound of an escape. A journey into undiscovered lands.

Following three albums – "The Assassination of Julius Caesar" (2017), "Flowers of Evil" (2020), and "Liminal Animals" (2024) – rooted in more traditional song and production structures, "Neverland" marks a new chapter in the revered Oslo band's history.

"With 'Neverland' we embraced a more 'punk' spirit – more dreaming, less discipline – freer, quite simply", the band comments on the creative process behind the album.

Bursts of daybreak synths and whooshes of sound set the atmosphere, before the wolves start digging into the dynamics of ambient calm and anarchic mysticism. Dreamy and transportive textures develop into trippy percussive energies, and as the album unfolds, a lush and vibrant, and at times exotic space opens.

Apart from a few recurring distant voices and vocal chops, "Neverland" is a largely instrumental record, reminiscent of the mood and structure of that place where late '90s IDM sounds met the meandering structures of post-rock.

The ghost of premillennial sample culture surely haunts "Neverland", and some might even hear echoes from earlier acclaimed works like "Perdition City" (2000), or the "Silence" EPs (2001), or more recently "ATGCLVLSSCAP" (2016).

Still, "Neverland" sounds and feels like something else, something fresh in ULVER's continuous journey of perennial reinvention. Pop music from in-between worlds? A sonic hallucination? Or better: a collage of dreams. It's up to you."

When five-time Grammy award winner Taj Mahal intersects with The Phantom Blues Band, it’s one of those rare joints that hits you before you even know you’ve been hit. They walk in, plug in, and the whole room shifts. Studio assassins, road lifers, groove keepers and somehow still hungry. They are an internationally renowned Two-Time Grammy Award winning group. Taj Mahal’s fearless, open-hearted spirit still shadows the whole thing with that genre-hopping joy. He leads you down the road with a history lesson and the Phantoms carry it with honor to the Griot.

Mahal sings and plays harp as he fronts an all-star lineup of legendary musicians with the three ringleaders for the Phantoms--Johnny Lee Schell, the soulful gunslinger with tone for days, Tony Braunagel keeps the whole ship steered straight and on time, every time, and Larry Fulcher, the anchor, the heartbeat, the quiet storm on bass. Additionally, Jon Cleary, with that unmistakable New Orleans piano swagger, Mick Weaver, a session master who’s playing slides in with an undeniable velvet magic, and in the horn section, Joe Sublett on sax and Les Lovitt on trumpet bring the orchestration into the full view of this genre. This band doesn’t ‘back” anybody. They lift you up, carry you, and dare you to rise higher. On this record they slide through blues, soul, R&B, and island color with the ease of men who’ve lived every bit of it. This is deep-groove, grown-folks music from a band that still plays like the night is young. ‘Time’ is their new release on Resonatin’ Records / Thirty Tigers and celebrates over thirty years of making this uplifting inspiring and aspiring music together.

Iconic Atlanta quintet SEVENDUST is back with its 15th studio album, ONE, set for release on May 1, 2026 via Napalm Records. The upcoming full-length LP forges ten simultaneously lean and gut-punching tracks out of gargantuan riffs, seismic grooves, and signature soul-stirring hooks, once again produced by Michael “Elvis” Baskette (Alter Bridge, Falling In Reverse, Mammoth). The group, comprised of Lajon Witherspoon (vocals), Clint Lowery (lead guitar, backing vocals), John Connolly (lead guitar, backing vocals), Vince Hornsby (bass), and Morgan Rose (drums), busts down the door with the first single “Is This The Real You”. Its swaggering fretwork alternately wallops and gallops in lockstep with a pummeling rhythm anchored by thunderous drums. The riff rolls and seethes, and the vocals swing from guttural growls into the embrace of a jazz-y chantable chorus.

A hummable lead ties the bridge together. Echoes of a tensely picked single-note set the tone for “Threshold.” Lajon’s delicate delivery gives way to a contentious distortion-boosted refrain. Then, there’s “Unbreakable,” which has all the makings of a clarion call for the collective and a future live staple. Strains of soft piano slip into the undertow of a towering hook punctuated by a promise, “We were meant to be unbreakable… even when we’re at our lowest lows. And if it gets too cold, I’ll never let you go.” The title track succinctly sums up the record as a whole. Bellowing out of a maelstrom of roaring distortion, Lajon’s voice reaches heavenly heights. For over three decades, SEVENDUST have made countless fans feel a part of something special. The group’s community isn’t passive. Members of the “7D Army” make a very active commitment to being part of this family – as evinced by sold-out shows worldwide and innumerable tattoos of the band’s logo and lyrics. Since 1994, the band has quietly built a legacy without parallel, encompassing sales of nearly eight million albums, a GRAMMY® Award nomination for “Best Metal Performance,” three Top 15 entries on the Billboard 200, hundreds of millions of streams, and the fierce loyalty of millions of listeners in every corner of the globe.

Wasteland is a record that is unafraid to plunge into the darkness of the modern world and embrace the weirder, edgier and more unnerving moments that come from doing so. It is an album that captures all the enormity of life from the micro to the macro, zooming in on the personal as well reflecting on broader societal issues.

“Wasteland is about the idea of a place once known or familiar that is now broken down and unrecognisable,” says Ghedi. “It’s about exploring the process of watching someone’s surroundings and environment collapse.” And within that you have a lot going on. “It also explores death, personal loss, grief, mental health and how the natural world provides solace and meaning for that loss and how these worlds blur into one another.”
Ghedi has always been an artist that in many ways perfectly encompasses folk music in its purest form but he is also someone that frequently pushes the boundaries of that label and no more so is that apparent than on this record. As like previous albums, such as 2018’s A Hymn for Ancient Land and 2021’s In the Furrows of Common Place, Ghedi uses traditional folk songs as a means to explore contemporary issues via modern and experimentally-leaning music. “With the traditional material on this album I wanted to find songs with content that resonated with me,” says Ghedi. “But also that were based roughly around the north of England.” This is a central underlying theme to the album for Ghedi. The feelings of loss, erosion, and degradation are often most pronounced in working class communities and this was something he wanted to weave in. “It was important to voice and choose material that represented or expressed issues that correlated with things going on around me.”

However, as remarkable as some of the traditional material is, some of the most arresting work on the album is Ghedi’s entirely original compositions. Lead single ‘Wasteland’ is a stunning piece of work that while rooted in an environment being corrupted and broken – “there’s violence on these hills” Ghedi sorrowfully sings, before claiming this is no longer somewhere that can be called home – it is also a stirringly beautiful composition that soars and glides as it opens up, as sweeping strings swoop and in and out of Ghedi’s twangy electric guitar.

The decision to incorporate more fuller sounds, such as electric guitar and huge drums, results in a notable shift and evolution in tone for Ghedi. “The lyrical content needed something more band-driven and loud to deliver them,” he explains. “Incorporating the electric guitar in my songwriting was also a big part of opening the sound up, using drop tunings pushed me to use my voice in a wider range, which forced me to use falsetto a lot which I haven’t previously done before. That then opened the sound up and gave me creative ideas for bigger arrangements and to sonically really push things.”

What Ghedi has done in creating his masterpiece is construct a remarkable space where deeply intimate and personal feelings coexist with reflections on environment, place and society, while also interweaving historical context via traditional songs. Wasteland is as much of a world to explore and exist in as much as it is an album, with Ghedi carving out his distinctly unique sonic language and voice to explore that singular environment.

Wasteland is a record that is unafraid to plunge into the darkness of the modern world and embrace the weirder, edgier and more unnerving moments that come from doing so. It is an album that captures all the enormity of life from the micro to the macro, zooming in on the personal as well reflecting on broader societal issues.

“Wasteland is about the idea of a place once known or familiar that is now broken down and unrecognisable,” says Ghedi. “It’s about exploring the process of watching someone’s surroundings and environment collapse.” And within that you have a lot going on. “It also explores death, personal loss, grief, mental health and how the natural world provides solace and meaning for that loss and how these worlds blur into one another.”
Ghedi has always been an artist that in many ways perfectly encompasses folk music in its purest form but he is also someone that frequently pushes the boundaries of that label and no more so is that apparent than on this record. As like previous albums, such as 2018’s A Hymn for Ancient Land and 2021’s In the Furrows of Common Place, Ghedi uses traditional folk songs as a means to explore contemporary issues via modern and experimentally-leaning music. “With the traditional material on this album I wanted to find songs with content that resonated with me,” says Ghedi. “But also that were based roughly around the north of England.” This is a central underlying theme to the album for Ghedi. The feelings of loss, erosion, and degradation are often most pronounced in working class communities and this was something he wanted to weave in. “It was important to voice and choose material that represented or expressed issues that correlated with things going on around me.”

However, as remarkable as some of the traditional material is, some of the most arresting work on the album is Ghedi’s entirely original compositions. Lead single ‘Wasteland’ is a stunning piece of work that while rooted in an environment being corrupted and broken – “there’s violence on these hills” Ghedi sorrowfully sings, before claiming this is no longer somewhere that can be called home – it is also a stirringly beautiful composition that soars and glides as it opens up, as sweeping strings swoop and in and out of Ghedi’s twangy electric guitar.

The decision to incorporate more fuller sounds, such as electric guitar and huge drums, results in a notable shift and evolution in tone for Ghedi. “The lyrical content needed something more band-driven and loud to deliver them,” he explains. “Incorporating the electric guitar in my songwriting was also a big part of opening the sound up, using drop tunings pushed me to use my voice in a wider range, which forced me to use falsetto a lot which I haven’t previously done before. That then opened the sound up and gave me creative ideas for bigger arrangements and to sonically really push things.”

What Ghedi has done in creating his masterpiece is construct a remarkable space where deeply intimate and personal feelings coexist with reflections on environment, place and society, while also interweaving historical context via traditional songs. Wasteland is as much of a world to explore and exist in as much as it is an album, with Ghedi carving out his distinctly unique sonic language and voice to explore that singular environment.

Lander Gyselinck and Adriaan Van de Velde created the soundtracks for the Dries Van Noten autumn/winter 2023-2024 runway shows. The result is a double live performance recorded during the shows in Paris.

The release, exactly 1 year after the presentation of last season's men's collection, is available from January 19th on a 180 gram vinyl and on all digital streaming platforms. On one side you will find the music for the men's collection by Lander & Adriaan, on the other the music for the women's collection, Lander Gyselinck solo.

"The women's collection is all about construct:deconstruct, intimacy, botanical figurative elements and gold in its raw form. Dries asked me to try to translate these elements into a drum piece performed live. I decided to focus on detailed intimate sounds, acoustic elements and improvisation. Besides this piece, there is a second composition that I brought together with Adriaan for the men's show where we mainly took into account the venue, Dries' collection, certain keywords we were given, our world of 90s music, rave and improvisation and we tried to make a nice blend of that." - Lander

This is the age of post-factual lies, which is reflected in MESH's album title "The Truth Doesn't Matter" and a dark undertone that occasionally seeps into their new songs. What remains entirely true is the fact that the UK duo has a nearly uncanny knack for writing electronic hits that are as elegant as they are captivating. "The Truth Doesn't Matter" bursts out like a sparkling firework while subtly referencing three decades of electronic music spanning from GIORGIO MORODER, YAZOO, and DEPECHE MODE via GARBAGE and MASSIVE ATTACK to more contemporary artists. At the same time, MESH always maintain their easily recognisable and unique musical identity as well as the trademark sounds that they have cultivated since their beginnings in the early nineties. With "The Truth Doesn't Matter", MESH climb yet another rung on the ladder leading to electronic music heaven. Each song wriggles its way happily into the brain and sticks around leading to spontaneous whistling of melodies and the public singing of extremely catchy chorus lines. You have been warned: "The Truth Doesn't Matter" is highly infectious and leads to a happier life!"

POISON IDEA’s momentum hasn’t slowed down one bit; this is still their brand of loud, potent powerthrash. Slightly more metal than in the past but the accent here is on the force and fury. Scorching. Each song on War All the Time flows into the other in a natural sequence for maximum impact and the whole thing blows over before you know it, but everything stays in your head, banging against the walls of your frontal bone. All this makes a good album, but what turns War All the Time into an amazing album are the lyrics and their delivery. Jerry A took the negative side of the world around him and expressed it in detail, rendered with words that can be read in a universal manner, expressing everything trivial and worthy of our puke in a language better suited to talk about the beauty of life. And those words remain as true to this day as the band’s riffs are brutal.

When Ryan DeRobertis announced the name change of his project from Saint Pepsi to Skylar Spence, there was no indication of any stylistic departure, though the change arrived with a musical shift toward faster tempos and more pristine production. Whereas Saint Pepsi had often used decades-old boogie, disco, and new wave as grist for the sampling mill, Skylar Spence is intent on trafficking more overtly in those genre aesthetics through his own production techniques and vocal contributions. With Prom King, DeRobertis reorients his music for his new full-band live act and winds up with an album full of tight and enveloping dance tunes.

Working with Carpark Records 'gave me the confidence to 'go big' with the new material: to write pop songs with universal messages in the sonic wrapping paper that I've grown accustomed to,' DeRobertis says. 'A few songs on Prom King are about specific events in my life—a party where I got too messed up, watching a friend's life spiral out of control and trying to help—but I tried hard not to be too autobiographical because I want my music to unite, above all else. I'm much more interested in connecting with the listener than mystifying my personality.'

While DeRobertis' previous long-players have been more amorphous collections in the style of beat tapes, Prom King is compact and cohesive, with the album's varied stylistic references (new wave, UK garage, boogie) united through strong guitar melodies and Todd Edwards-ian cobblings-together of tiny vocal samples. 'I slowed some music down and called myself an artist,' DeRobertis sings on lead single 'Can't You See,' acknowledging in his lyrics what is already apparent in the music's tone—he can maintain fidelity to his vision while working in more uptempo, disco-based song structures.

'Ridiculous!' and 'Bounce Is Back' are big groovers that capitalize on jacking hi-hats and hand drumming, respectively, and both have an air of Balearic warmth and smoothness. On the title track, DeRobertis entwines a chorus of unintelligible but expressive samples with his own vocals—what feels like a synthesis of two approaches—and the result is an affecting pattern of build and release. More contemplative sophisti-pop numbers like 'Fall Harder' and 'Affairs' add a realist's breadth of scope: thoughts of past foibles bleed into present-dwelling and dancing.

Prom King is DeRobertis making sense of missed opportunities. His high school did not have a prom king; he has filled the position with an imaginative album of personal and musical revisionism.

No-one could have predicted the success of The 88, the first album from Minuit
(minwee), or how warmly it would be received. Equally no-one could have predicted that the band would return to the live arena a decade after their final fling or consider pressing their debut on vinyl for the first time.

Formed in Nelson, NZ in 1997, the trio cut their teeth playing regularly around the South Island’s underground club and festival scene. After a hiatus overseas, they began recording The 88 in 2002 in Ryan’s home studio. The lyrics were influenced by their travels around Europe and Ruth's time working for the UN in Kosovo and East Timor; the beats by The Prodigy, Portishead and the UK’s trip-hop and breakbeat scenes.

Signed to indie label Tardus, their tunes were eagerly picked up by the bNet student radio network, which then ballooned into high rotates on TV station C4, helped along by Alyx Duncan’s stunning video for Except You. A busy summer playing live every weekend for three months and seemingly universal praise from the music press led to them swiftly gaining gold sales.

Now 22 years later, with live shows looming, the trio have decided to revisit their debut, completing two previously unfinished tracks from the period to add a bonus to this inaugural vinyl release.

Whenever Emily Nenni is onstage, she welcomes everybody to the dancefloor. The California-born, Nashville-based singer-songwriter wants the honkytonk to be a place of escape, where fans can shed their troubles for a few hours and feel safe and free. “I’m always watching the dancefloor and making sure everybody’s being respectful.” Or, as she sings on the supremely funky title track to her new album Movin’ Shoes, “Here’s where you dress for you and dance the way that you want to.”

Movin’ Shoes is an album about how we treat each other and how we treat ourselves. Confident in its touchstones and compassionate in its insights, Movin’ Shoes eloquently and wryly blends southern soul from Memphis and Muscle Shoals with southern rock from Macon and outlaw country from Austin. Making Movin’ Shoes was a process of discovery for Nenni. Musically she found all new ways to combine the disparate artists she loves so much, and lyrically she found all new ways to relate to herself and to others. “We should at all times acknowledge and accept the fact that we’re imperfect people,” she explains. “We all make mistakes and we should all rethink the way we go about things. I am flawed. Everyone around me is flawed. But that’s not a bad thing. It just means we’re all human. This album is about making mistakes and learning from them. I’m always trying to put that into my songs.”