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“Tough love is a sonic dark romantic experience. Each song represents a different form of “Tough love”. A dark romance in Hollywood. Growing up in LA at the age of 17, now being 23 I’ve experienced a lot and learned so much about my self and love itself. All of these songs are written either about my own experiences, lessons and who I am today or inspired by a fantasy I’ve created in my mind and heart. These love songs tell the truth of what I desire and crave deeply, a love that is exciting and passionate and impossible to find in Hollywood, writing these songs are the closest I’ll ever get to living it. Words are spells. Songs are spells. I love writing about love because though it’s fleeting in those moments while I’m creating the record, its true. I live in it, feel it on my skin, close my eyes, taste it and make it real. Whether it’s something I want, something I had, something I’m missing, it is mine all the same. Tough love is about the darkest and toughest parts of love, songs for those themselves who are tough to love, and songs for love that’s tough to find.

Sonically I was inspired by, Massive attack, Portishead, Fleetwood Mac, Eagles, Alice in chains, nostalgic music from the 70s through the 90s and add my own dark twists. ” - Nessa Barrett

The Version of Me You Get is a record about perspective, how life changes you, and who you are on the other side of it. Written and recorded in 2020 alongside longtime collaborator Sean McConnell, the album was born out of a rare stillness - a week spent holed up in the studio, building songs piece by piece with no outside noise and no deadline. Bowen had never had that kind of time with a record before. The result was something unhurried, deeply considered and wholly their own. Then life picked back up, and the album sat. Five years later, Bowen returned to the recordings and found something he didn't expect: the songs had grown. What was captured in 2020 as honest and uncertain had become something richer — shaped by everything that followed, personally and professionally. The distance didn't diminish the record. It deepened it. Spanning love, struggle, redemption, and vulnerability, The Version of Me You Get didn't just capture a moment in time, it gained meaning because of what came after. These songs finally found their moment. And it turns out, the wait made them better.

The method is instability.

— Violeta Garcia & Hora Lunga

Violeta García & Hora Lunga return with 4ever, their second album and the follow-up to I’ll Wait For You In The Car Park. Released in 2025 on -ous, their debut received airplay on BBC and NTS and was selected for Bandcamp’s Best Experimental Music year-end list. 4ever picks up where that record left off: in ordinary moments, small scenes and the strange emotional weight of being somewhere between places. But here, these moments are stretched across a much larger, darker screen. A night flight, a terminal, a bad connection. When too many feelings are carried from one place to another, everyday situations begin to feel epic, empty, or apocalyptic.

Built from García’s cello and Hora Lunga’s synths, samples and field recordings, the album pushes further into emotion, letting fragile melodies, orchestral cello gestures, heavy low-end and compressed noise melt into something both dystopian and strangely familiar. Its warmth is not meant to be an escape from this world, but something that appears within it. Acoustically, the album lives through the closeness of the materials, the way sounds stay with each other, and in the feeling that even the most unstable moments are being carried together. The album presents itself in scenes that fade into each other: quiet melodic fragments that are interrupted and restarted, unpredictable changes of direction, held together by an inevitable melody, a bright synth harmony unfolding into an almost orchestral cello arrangement. Later, a broken organ-like sample turning in circles, cello melodies appearing as if they were trying to remember a song that never belonged to one voice alone. An endless loop that is placed under changing lights, briefly opening into emotional chords, then slipping back into emptiness.

It is this instability that Violeta García and Hora Lunga place at the center of their collaboration. They do not decorate the cello with production, or place electronics around an acoustic centre. They explain: “On 4ever, we become part of the same unstable surface. What holds the record together is not resolution, but the trust in staying together as things distort, overload, disappear and return.”

Violeta García, an Argentinian cellist known for her solo work and for her role in the punk band Blanco Teta, brings the instrument close to the body, as melody, pressure, texture, noise and sudden emotional weight. García has brought her distinct musical voice to KEXP, Rewire, Le Guess Who?, Bad Bonn Kilbi, Silent Green, TransMusicales, Roskilde and more.

Hora Lunga, a Zurich-based producer and composer working across unstable song forms, treats electronics less as a frame than as a weather system: something that can hold a scene together, distort it or make it disappear. In recent years, his compositions have ranged from experimental song forms, sound performances, ensemble compositions and film music. His ensemble WIRREN consists of up to fifteen performers.

The Yummy Fur’s first album of new material in over 25 years is seductive and ambiguous; a fast-paced flip through scenes from art, myth, life and fantasy; a witty whole made from glittering scraps. The band’s original incarnation – fronted by singer, songwriter and guitarist John McKeown from 1992 to 1999 – morphed from making quick-hit cartoon-art songs to Eno and Cale-influenced creepers, populated by characters from McKeown’s life in Glasgow and the films, books and poetry that he lived a parallel life through. Everybody Talks About The Weather delights in using every past iteration of the band as potent collage material: a melee of sounds and ideas existing at once, revealing themselves then dipping back into hiding.
Recorded by the original core trio of McKeown, Brian MacDougall (guitar) and Paul Thomson (drums), Everybody Talks About The Weather comes 17 years after the band reformed for sporadic live shows, and seven years after the release of their sorta-greatest hits compilation Piggy Wings (Rock Action). Ten tracks long with nothing to spare, it is as condensed and vital as their best songs, with a new clarity of sound that allows their ambiguities to come into the light.
The album begins with “Cogs”, a taunting inquisition from within. As McKeown stages a fight between his id and ego, the tension heats up between conversational guitar lines and minimalist repetition; threatening sing-song melody and real, palpable menace. The band members are forced in tandem only to break apart, sustaining a genuine sense of just-hidden danger throughout the whole record – except, arguably, “Headphones”, a looser moment which sees McKeown make an existential something out of nothing while waiting for someone in the car (“I should have brought a book.../My ears are bleeding from the compression on your album”)
The songs are riots of reference: “Unity Over Europe” is a slyly complex two act play about the Mitford sisters – Diana, Unity, and Nancy, in a wink to the YF canon – smashing tragic biographical detail together with allusions to Thomas Pynchon and Francis Bacon. Pynchon is also lifted to serve “Blue Sunshine”, a collision of school shooters, serial killers and fictional fuck-ups (“Fast forward to Compton/Fast forward to Pynchon/Fast forward to Columbine'”) whose buzzy guitar lines are taunting and confrontational like a smarmy teenager. The innocuous title of “My Lasagne” belies a song that exists in several time periods at once: a visit to see Guernica, 50 people with their backs to the portrait of Dora Maar; the time that Picasso painted from; the Reina Sofia and the dirty streets of the Malasaña; myth-making musicians and the myths they’re riffing off overlapping and leering at each other.
All this could be laboured in lesser hands, but cultural verbosity is second nature to The Yummy Fur, who transform all this source material into songs that are weird, sexy, funny and absurd. Meaning is not happily understood or flattened. Susan Sontag's essay Against Interpretation accompanied McKeown as he wrote this album, and she’s paraphrased in “Semolina Ballerina”, the album’s justification of artistic ambiguity. Thomson’s motorik beat leads a gathering of back-and-forth instrumental phrases – including a wiry contribution on saxophone – embodying the futility of trying to parse something definitive from repeated action. “Listen to the very first thing that’s in your head,” Sontag-via-McKeown commands directly, then slinks sideways: “Interpretation is a conversation in an unmade bed”
The album features two more focused portraits, or at least The Yummy Fur’s version of such a thing. “Wanda” merges the life of filmmaker Barbara Loden and the title character of her semi-autobiographical 1970 feature film, with Loden’s then-husband Elia Kazan joining the fray of no-good men in her film. It’s a mix of adaptation and avant-criticism, with McKeown’s wordplay and mannered pronunciation mirroring the way that non-fiction and fiction twist around each other in the song. The title track is a series of vignettes and impressions from the lives of the band’s ‘90s inner circle, positing painter Mac McNaughton as a kind of Falstaffian ringleader. As with Piggy Wings and the recent single “New T-Shirt”, McNaughton painted the cover of Everybody Talks About The Weather – like the album’s music, the image of a coy girl in a white dress is an uncanny amalgamation of styles, suggestions and references just out of reach, as though seen in an art museum in a dream.
The album ends with two reads of the same frustration. “King of Nothing” is the closest The Yummy Fur will ever get to sludge-rock: the band melts together into a dusty, dreary haze as McKeown drowns in a drudgery of personal struggle (“Two jumpers on in Babylon/And only cats to talk to”) and the rhythmic toppling of heroes (Rowlands, Duvall, Munro). The majority of visible dirt is cleaned off for “Say Hello”, an uncharacteristic depiction of throwing the windows open after a dark night of the soul. Here, the situation is still cold and hard (“When the sun burns gold, but the heat never reaches your fingertips”) but it feels surmountable. Everybody Talks About The Weather is an unpredictable album from an unpredictable group, but ending on a moment of almost uncomplicated light is maybe its biggest surprise. - Claire Biddles (2026)

The Yummy Fur’s first album of new material in over 25 years is seductive and ambiguous; a fast-paced flip through scenes from art, myth, life and fantasy; a witty whole made from glittering scraps. The band’s original incarnation – fronted by singer, songwriter and guitarist John McKeown from 1992 to 1999 – morphed from making quick-hit cartoon-art songs to Eno and Cale-influenced creepers, populated by characters from McKeown’s life in Glasgow and the films, books and poetry that he lived a parallel life through. Everybody Talks About The Weather delights in using every past iteration of the band as potent collage material: a melee of sounds and ideas existing at once, revealing themselves then dipping back into hiding.
Recorded by the original core trio of McKeown, Brian MacDougall (guitar) and Paul Thomson (drums), Everybody Talks About The Weather comes 17 years after the band reformed for sporadic live shows, and seven years after the release of their sorta-greatest hits compilation Piggy Wings (Rock Action). Ten tracks long with nothing to spare, it is as condensed and vital as their best songs, with a new clarity of sound that allows their ambiguities to come into the light.
The album begins with “Cogs”, a taunting inquisition from within. As McKeown stages a fight between his id and ego, the tension heats up between conversational guitar lines and minimalist repetition; threatening sing-song melody and real, palpable menace. The band members are forced in tandem only to break apart, sustaining a genuine sense of just-hidden danger throughout the whole record – except, arguably, “Headphones”, a looser moment which sees McKeown make an existential something out of nothing while waiting for someone in the car (“I should have brought a book.../My ears are bleeding from the compression on your album”)
The songs are riots of reference: “Unity Over Europe” is a slyly complex two act play about the Mitford sisters – Diana, Unity, and Nancy, in a wink to the YF canon – smashing tragic biographical detail together with allusions to Thomas Pynchon and Francis Bacon. Pynchon is also lifted to serve “Blue Sunshine”, a collision of school shooters, serial killers and fictional fuck-ups (“Fast forward to Compton/Fast forward to Pynchon/Fast forward to Columbine'”) whose buzzy guitar lines are taunting and confrontational like a smarmy teenager. The innocuous title of “My Lasagne” belies a song that exists in several time periods at once: a visit to see Guernica, 50 people with their backs to the portrait of Dora Maar; the time that Picasso painted from; the Reina Sofia and the dirty streets of the Malasaña; myth-making musicians and the myths they’re riffing off overlapping and leering at each other.
All this could be laboured in lesser hands, but cultural verbosity is second nature to The Yummy Fur, who transform all this source material into songs that are weird, sexy, funny and absurd. Meaning is not happily understood or flattened. Susan Sontag's essay Against Interpretation accompanied McKeown as he wrote this album, and she’s paraphrased in “Semolina Ballerina”, the album’s justification of artistic ambiguity. Thomson’s motorik beat leads a gathering of back-and-forth instrumental phrases – including a wiry contribution on saxophone – embodying the futility of trying to parse something definitive from repeated action. “Listen to the very first thing that’s in your head,” Sontag-via-McKeown commands directly, then slinks sideways: “Interpretation is a conversation in an unmade bed”
The album features two more focused portraits, or at least The Yummy Fur’s version of such a thing. “Wanda” merges the life of filmmaker Barbara Loden and the title character of her semi-autobiographical 1970 feature film, with Loden’s then-husband Elia Kazan joining the fray of no-good men in her film. It’s a mix of adaptation and avant-criticism, with McKeown’s wordplay and mannered pronunciation mirroring the way that non-fiction and fiction twist around each other in the song. The title track is a series of vignettes and impressions from the lives of the band’s ‘90s inner circle, positing painter Mac McNaughton as a kind of Falstaffian ringleader. As with Piggy Wings and the recent single “New T-Shirt”, McNaughton painted the cover of Everybody Talks About The Weather – like the album’s music, the image of a coy girl in a white dress is an uncanny amalgamation of styles, suggestions and references just out of reach, as though seen in an art museum in a dream.
The album ends with two reads of the same frustration. “King of Nothing” is the closest The Yummy Fur will ever get to sludge-rock: the band melts together into a dusty, dreary haze as McKeown drowns in a drudgery of personal struggle (“Two jumpers on in Babylon/And only cats to talk to”) and the rhythmic toppling of heroes (Rowlands, Duvall, Munro). The majority of visible dirt is cleaned off for “Say Hello”, an uncharacteristic depiction of throwing the windows open after a dark night of the soul. Here, the situation is still cold and hard (“When the sun burns gold, but the heat never reaches your fingertips”) but it feels surmountable. Everybody Talks About The Weather is an unpredictable album from an unpredictable group, but ending on a moment of almost uncomplicated light is maybe its biggest surprise. - Claire Biddles (2026)

“Man has such a predilection for systems and abstract deductions that he is ready to distort the truth intentionally, he is ready to deny the evidence of his senses only to justify his logic”
Fyodor Dostoevsky - Notes from Underground (1864)

The Intermittent Signal is the sound of resistance.

In the year since The Sick Man Of Europe’s debut album was released, the world has moved on. Steady hands have slipped from the levers of power, logic has shifted underground and the message grows more urgent with every passing day.

Repetition has been relearned and the machine rhythms repurposed, this time with increased intensity. Arrangements have moved beyond the bare bones economy of the first record and there’s a newfound melodicism in places. Clarity and conviction ring true through the static and noise, while utopian ideas to remodel a broken system gain traction. This is a rejection of the attention economy and a call to reconnect through community and organisation. Those simple acts that were once commonplace have become increasingly radical as new fractures emerge.

“Through repetition the message has gained weight and become something more urgent,” The Sick Man Of Europe explains. “The vehicle for this message needed to evolve, grow to gain the strength to carry it. We’ve landed on something more expansive, immediate and immersive. Less is more. Until it isn't.”

“Man has such a predilection for systems and abstract deductions that he is ready to distort the truth intentionally, he is ready to deny the evidence of his senses only to justify his logic”
Fyodor Dostoevsky - Notes from Underground (1864)

The Intermittent Signal is the sound of resistance.

In the year since The Sick Man Of Europe’s debut album was released, the world has moved on. Steady hands have slipped from the levers of power, logic has shifted underground and the message grows more urgent with every passing day.

Repetition has been relearned and the machine rhythms repurposed, this time with increased intensity. Arrangements have moved beyond the bare bones economy of the first record and there’s a newfound melodicism in places. Clarity and conviction ring true through the static and noise, while utopian ideas to remodel a broken system gain traction. This is a rejection of the attention economy and a call to reconnect through community and organisation. Those simple acts that were once commonplace have become increasingly radical as new fractures emerge.

“Through repetition the message has gained weight and become something more urgent,” The Sick Man Of Europe explains. “The vehicle for this message needed to evolve, grow to gain the strength to carry it. We’ve landed on something more expansive, immediate and immersive. Less is more. Until it isn't.”

,Our Final Album - Vol. 1" ist das vierte Album von Glenn Morrow's Cry For Help und zeigt die Band aus Hoboken, New Jersey, auf dem Höhepunkt ihrer Kreativität. Obwohl der Titel einen Abschied suggeriert, präsentiert das Album eine lebendige und vielseitige Sammlung von elf neuen Songs, die von klassischem Gitarrenrock über gefühlvolle Balladen bis hin zu Bossa-Nova- und Soul-Einflüssen reichen. Angeführt wird die Band von Glenn Morrow, einer Schlüsselfigur der unabhängigen US-Musikszene, der als Musiker, Journalist und langjähriger Betreiber des Indie-Labels Bar/None Records bekannt wurde. Gemeinsam mit Bassist Mike Rosenberg, Gitarrist Ric Sherman und Schlagzeuger Ron Metz greift Morrow auf jahrzehntelange Erfahrung in der traditionsreichen Hoboken-Musikszene zurück. Aufgenommen wurde das Album erneut im Magic Door Studio von Produzent Ray Ketchem, der besonders das Gespür der Band für eingängige Melodien und starkes Songwriting hervorhebt. Unterstützung erhält die Band diesmal vom renommierten Keyboarder Andrew Burton, dessen Beiträge den Songs zusätzliche Tiefe und Klangfarben verleihen. Musikalisch verbindet ,Our Final Album - Vol. 1" kraftvolle Rocksongs wie ,That's That", ,Beatle Bones" und ,Into Something New" mit nachdenklicheren Momenten wie ,Stop Your Crying", dem Bossa-Stück ,Boom Boom" oder dem souligen ,Let's Stay In Bed". Dabei ziehen sich Glenn Morrows persönliche Geschichten, Lebenserfahrungen und eine leichte Melancholie durch das gesamte Album. Das Ergebnis ist ein abwechslungsreiches, warmes und zeitloses Rockalbum, das die Stärke einer Band zeigt, die auch nach vielen Jahren nichts von ihrer Leidenschaft verloren hat.

Nach der Breakout-EP „Discount Fireworks“ haben Roman Candle ihren Sound konsequent weiterentwickelt. Die jüngsten Singles zeigen eine Band, die emotionale Direktheit mit kontrolliertem Chaos verbindet; „Can We Watch Something Happy?“ basiert auf persönlichen Erfahrungen von Piper und unterstreicht den ungefilterten erzählerischen Ansatz der Band.

Modi Bardo, an alumnus of Moonshine Recordings, is another who on the surface appears to be at the nascent era of their sound experiments, but in truth is a longtime explorer of outer realms of Dub.

There is much to mention here which can be uncovered with the correct keywords, but one of the early bright points would be Spacelings and Bassheads, the Detroit-based Psych duo Modi Bardo was half of, who although seemingly limited in the realms of recorded output (with only a compilation appearance each via the Electro visionaries Interdimensional Transmissions and Booty bass / Techno orientated Intuit-Solar) where in fact not-so-limited in the era in the way of public performance, even performing at the renowned Packard Plant renegades in the 90's with UR on occasion.

Forward to now, and Modi Bardo has created something that reaches for unknown territory in Dub. With an establishing A side that is deep and primordial in tone, a' la Challenger Deep and Babe Roots releases, this proves to be merely a fantastic tone setter for the B side, which seems to find a zone where Dub Techno, Half Time, and Autonomic DnB have not quite gleaned yet. Truly a record unlike any other, while somehow being an invaluable tool for DJ's exploring the links between the aforementioned sounds and even Dancehall and Jungle in the mix.

A must for all those chasing the evolution of dub reflective arts, and the adventurous DJ in general.

At the outset of the project, Jupp assembled a palette of instruments and sounds which evoke a moment in musical history when digital studio technology just started to take over from analogue. Eschewing Belbury Poly’s earlier mid 70s obsessions, to focus on that period around 1983, when artists who could afford it started to experiment with samplers. It was a musical moment dominated by the sounds of Prophet 5, DX7 & PPG synthesizers, Fairlight & Synclavier music computers, TR808 drum machine & Simmons Drums (those ubiquitous hexagonal drum pads) and of course the much-maligned fretless bass.

It’s also an era that’s now seen as something of a golden age for fantasy, sci-fi, comics, book, TV, movies and games (particularly in Britain where it was often fuelled by a post punk reaction to Thatcher’s regime). In Jupp’s memory these things go hand in hand; as a child his nerdy fandom was soundtracked not as it was for most by Heavy Metal, but by the electronic pop of Bill Nelson, Yellow Magic Orchestra, Japan, and Frank Chickens. Also, by otherworldly TV soundtracks & production music of the era: Elizabeth Parker and Paddy Kingsland at the BBC, The Parry Music Library, Rod Argent’s new age library albums and even Clannad’s Robin of Sherwood score.

*Limited edition (500) reissue of The Orchids second album – originally released on Sarah Records in 1991- remastered with the 7” and E.P tracks from the time. Translucent pink*
“The Orchids have a lightness of touch, an autumnal and mellow fruitfulness, a clear-eyed pop nous. Imagine some nexus that takes in Felt, Orange Juice, The Beach Boys and The Go-Betweens”
-Stuart Maconie

“The Orchids can come on like esoteric angels high on Felt and Massive Attack”
– John Mulvey, NME

The early summer bloom of 1992 felt like it had been pollinated by a lot of sunshine-loving records from the year before, optimistic headrushes that embraced hedonistic bliss or at least a sweeter ride. There was still an element of bedroom wistfulness to singles like Higher Than The Sun, Nothing Can Stop Us and even Paris Angels’ Perfume but there was no denying the appeal that techno, rave and Bleep held, especially when it was microdosed. Bands were more willing to experiment with technology and producers, if not necessarily going for all whistles-blazing club bangers.

The Orchids, hailing from the suburbs of Glasgow were unlikely to ever emerge from their hood as contenders for a deal on Soma Records (which had begun in 1991 in that city) but they evidently wanted to stretch their boundaries beyond their introverted debut. Unholy Soul is somewhat breezier than Lyceum. It’s still laced with a Scottish melancholy but there’s more breathing space within the production. They’d hinted as much on their 12” ‘Penetration’ EP from 1991 and lovelorn songs such as Waiting For The Storm and Peaches are now spiked by absent-minded cherubs with an ear for the 3.a.m comedown.

As lead singer James Hackett says today: “Unholy Soul was the first time we had spent more than a couple of days in the studio, doing so after work. It was a thrilling period of creativity and we had most of the songs written but not enough. We didn’t worry about that too much though because with Ian Carmichael there was a new opportunity for studio generation. Also this was the first time we had heard Pauline (Hynds) singing with One Dove so we asked her to sing on some of the songs. We were obviously influenced by a lot of the music of the time but you can still hear it’s The Orchids at heart”.

The next year of course One Dove (with Carmichael programming) released their debut album - produced by Andrew Weatherall - on the Boy’s Own label. It felt like there was a lot of ideas being spun back and forth between artists and producers in the early 90s. If some of the records also sound very much of that time that’s no bad thing either. There was a lot of loved-up nostalgia for the 60s then so it’s no surprise that many of the records have a youthful exuberance coupled to a technological innocence, that’s the charm.

Repress

Released in August 2020 to much acclaim, as well as receiving many accolades as one of the best albums of 2020, Duval Timothy present Help (2021 edition).

This new and limited edition will be released independently by Duval Timothy’s Carrying Colour label, fashion brand and shop. It comes on 2 x 140g milky clear vinyl, with new 2 x 12" square posters and shrink-wrapped.

Help was recorded in London and Los Angeles, and reveals the artists' experience traversing the meshes of the music industry, mental health, YouTube self-help videos, and the healing he discovered through friendship and collaboration. Co-produced by Rodaidh McDonald (King Krule, The XX) and Marta Salogni (Bjork), with collaborations from Lil Silva, Melanie Faye, Vegyn, Desta Haile, Mr Mitch, Dave Okumo, and Twin Shadow amongst others.

Duval Timothy is a multidisciplinary artist, whose practise is centred around colour and involves the use of music, photography, textiles, painting, sculpture, design, cooking and video. In between delivering a celebrated cookbook for Penguin Books, and an interactive installation at Tate Modern Turbine Hall, Duval makes music, which is sampled by the likes of Solange and Loyle Carner and collaborates frequetly with cktrl, Vegyn, Kwes, and Mr Mitch.

Ancient spirits come alive as SKÁLD extend an invitation into times long gone but not forgotten. Ørlǫg, coming September 25, 2026, is their first album via Napalm Records, and it is our destiny. As the Norns weave our future, this album is a fascinating passageway into our pristine origins and the consequences of our choices. Ten new songs as stepping stones, Ørlǫg is an offering to listen, to dwell, to reflect—and to find something within yourself previously unknown. SKÁLD don’t just play music, they awaken ancient ways.

Abramelin’s self-titled 1995 debut is a landmark in the Australian Death Metal scene, featuring some of the heaviest riffs ever recorded Down Under and deranged lyrics brimming with unbridled brutality and violence! Australian Death Metal for the most part has been really solid. Abramelin does nothing to deter from that thought and “Abramelin” is known by many death metal fans as a classic. These Aussies laid forth a chunk of brutal death metal in 1995. Around that time, the established sound of the Florida scene and even in other areas such as Sweden had begun to morph into something else as bands attempted to prevent stagnation. One such new avenue of creativity was to simply get heavier, louder, and more punishing, and by those standards Abramelin’s self-titled debut delivers on every level. Now available again on CD and vinyl, this long overdue re-issue brings back a true underground classic from one of Australia’s most overlooked Death Metal bands.

The third album from Max McNown, Leave On A Light, reveals a rare artist whose breakout success has brought him even closer to his truest instincts. Amid an explosive ascent that solidified his status as one of his generation’s most compelling singer/songwriters, the Oregon native came to a deeper conviction in music’s power to honor what matters most, such as the people and values who anchor his life. Born from a year of extraordinary momentum—including completing his sold-out, continent-hopping headline tour—Leave On A Light ultimately finds McNown more grounded than ever in his artistic vision, arriving as the fullest expression yet of his singular songwriting voice.

Errands is the first duo recording from Marja Ahti, Swedish-Finnish sound artist and electroacoustic composer, and John McCowen, a native of Southern Illinois, now residing in Iceland, whose work centres on a radical exploration of clarinet multiphonics. Working without the aid of electronics, McCowen has spent years finessing performance techniques that allow him to layer beating patterns and split tones that belie their source in a monophonic instrument. Ahti, in contrast, has built up a stunning body of work in recent years using a classic electroacoustic palette of electronic, field recordings and instrumental sounds. Sharing a bill at the 2024 iteration of Stockholm’s Edition Festival, the pair discovered a sensibility shared across their different sonic means, beginning the collaborative process that would eventually result in the mercurial side-long pieces heard on Errands.

The word ‘errand’ suggests something purposeful but routine, and Ahti’s and McCowen’s work is suffused with the everyday. Meeting with McCowen to record in Iceland, Ahti used the opportunity to gather field recordings, capturing not the natural sublimity often associated with the country—think Chris Watson’s shifting glaciers—but everyday life in Reykjavik. Snatches of bustling streets and what could be humming engines thread between static sinewaves, stretches of clarinet resonances and fleeting textures, the latter often at once visceral and impossible to identify. Errands: we are a long way from the grandiose framing devices favoured by the pioneers of electroacoustic music, yet many of their principles are at work here. The gradual metamorphosis of one sound into another, the carefully achieved ambiguity between the acoustic and electronic, the treatment of the stereo field as a compositional element: all of these link Ahti and McCowen’s music to the electroacoustic tradition, yet their sensibility is radically different. The overall effect is a kind of stillness, but one at peace with continuous change. Like the unwieldy but somehow stylish everyday forms captured in the Hertta Kiiski photographs that adorn the record's sleeve, the music seems to prize a kind of deliberate awkwardness, interrupting static held textures not with an abrupt cut, but with a quick fade, suddenly revealing background as foreground.

Ahti and McCowen’s world is everyday and unornamented, but also shadowed by the numinous. Halfway through 'Chorales', we hear an arrangement for overdubbed recorders of an early motet of Messiaen’s, O sacrum convivium! Played on recorders, the piece shrinks into delicacy and dim memories of childhood music lessons, while at the same time its harmonies retain the grandeur of their liturgical origin. This double quality inflects much of what follows on Errands, including snatches of field-recorded water or air, which seem at once elemental and domestic. Enlivened with countless details that repay repeated relistening, Errands is a record that leaves the listener ready to open their ears anew to their own sound environment.

‘The Art Of Loving’ is a tender, intentional deep dive into the many dimensions of love – romantic, platonic, self, and everything in between. The album features the singles, ‘Nice To Each Other’, 'Man I Need' and ' Baby Steps'

Picture the scene - October 2025, while staying at a friend’s apartment in Chennai, Gavsborg created umpteen ideas and contacted his good friend and bassist from back home, Delroy Pele Fyah Hamilton to collaborate. Hamilton, now based in Singapore performs and records regularly with F.Y .A.H. (successor band from Raging Fyah).

Both Blair and Hamilton share a love for Caribbean music. With this foundation the two set out to create something a bit different that sits between Bouyon, Dancehall & Dennery. The amalgamation resulted in this unique four-track instrumental EP . While the track titles are packed with broader Caribbean references, the project name and title track is an ode to the 90s dancehall pioneers, “Black Roses Crew” , who were based in Arnett Gardens (aka Jungle), Kingston, Jamaica, one of the important homes of 90s dancehall. Roses helped shape dancehall culture through dance, style, crew affiliation, and performance, largely soundtracked by Computer Paul’s Corduroy Riddim with Gerald Levy aka Bogle being the poster human.

Arnett Gardens (Jungle) is one of the key engines that produced the version of dancehall both Gavsborg and Pele draw here from. Think tight, bubbling, bouncing riddims, rolling basslines unlike anything you’ve heard before. Jamaican Dance Music for the movers and shakers

Hypnos , a new collection of his own mesmerising compositions, enchants us with sublime, atmospheric guitar intricacies beautifully constructed over soul- drenched hammond sound-beds. "With Hypnos , I wanted to create something paired back and super simple. These pieces were initially written as etudes for solo guitar, and they reflect the wide range of influences found in the music I love to listen to. A life spent listening to Django Reinhardt and Philip Glass! The inclusion of the Hammond organ came from a desire to pair the nylon- string guitar with an instrument you don't usually hear alongside it. For me, the Hammond evokes gospel and the classic organ trios of Wes Montgomery - it's a soulful, funk sonic and very spiritual. It was a real blessing to have Nathaniel Ledwidge play Hammond on the record and to showcase the softer side of this iconic instrument. Hypnos is the Greek god of sleep, the father of Morpheus, the god of dreams. Is the music dreamy and hypnotic, a brief slumberous escape from the madness out there? I hope so." - Robin Katz It's available as a limited- pressing 180g vinyl 'Gearbox Cut' LP and gatefold CD digi sleeve with obi strip & photo insert.

A side is a trip... Bloody experience...
Like I say "if a record does not have something to say... then abort !"
Here frequencies becomes weapons !
Screwdrivers for solid brains !

The flip brings 2 Speedcore at same speed for a deejay pleasure, as expected with this vinyl only project !

The name of the EP in in memory of parties organised between 1994 and 1995 where the music was...

Enjoy !

Mastered by ArmguetNad.
Cut at The Exchange.
Visuals by Artcoton

Colorize presents 22, the debut album from California-based producer, DJ and yoga teacher mölly, a deeply personal body of work shaped by connection, surrender and healing.

Bloodstain gehört zu den vielversprechendsten jungen Heavy-Metal-Bands, die in den letzten Jahren aus Schweden hervorgegangen sind. Die Ende 2023 in Stockholm gegründete Band hat sich schnell einen Namen gemacht, indem sie die Grundlagen des klassischen Metal und Hard Rock mit der Dringlichkeit, dem Selbstbewusstsein und dem Bühneninstinkt einer modernen Live-Band verbindet. Anstatt sich auf einen eng gefassten Revivalismus zu verlassen, schöpft Bloodstain aus einer breiteren Heavy-Metal-Tradition – kraftvolle Riffs, einprägsame Hooks, dynamisches Songwriting und ein klares Verständnis dafür, wie Songs sowohl auf Platte als auch auf größeren Bühnen rüberkommen müssen.
Ihr selbstbetiteltes Debütalbum „Bloodstain“ ist das erste umfassende Statement zur Identität der Band. Es präsentiert eine junge Band mit klarer Ausrichtung: diszipliniertes Songwriting, ein unverwechselbares visuelles Profil und ein Ehrgeiz, der bereits über die Clubebene hinausreicht. Während das Material die Wucht und Direktheit klassischer Heavy-Musik in sich trägt, verleihen die Entscheidungen bei Produktion und Arrangement der Platte eine zeitgemäße Kraft, die sie fest in der Gegenwart und nicht in der Vergangenheit verankert.
Das von Alex Hellid, Per Aldeheim und der Band selbst produzierte Album erscheint mit einer Geschichte, die in Presse, Handel und Exportkanälen großen Anklang findet. Bloodstain ist nicht einfach nur eine Band mit starken Songs, sondern eine Band mit Schwung. Frühe Veröffentlichungen sorgten sofort für Aufmerksamkeit, ihre visuelle Identität ist bereits klar definiert, und ihre Live-Präsenz wächst durch immer präsentere Auftritte und strategisch gewählte Vorgruppen-Slots weiter. Beim Sweden Rock Festival und beim Hellfest reagierte das Publikum bereits auf unveröffentlichtes Material, was unterstreicht, dass die Musik der Band in Echtzeit ankommt und sich nicht allein auf ihre Positionierung verlässt.
Was Bloodstain in dieser Phase auszeichnet, ist die Kombination aus Jugend, Klarheit und Bereitschaft. Die Band wirkt frisch, agiert jedoch mit einem Maß an Organisation und Zielstrebigkeit, das das Vertrauen der Branche weckt. Es entwickelt sich bereits eine Sammlermentalität rund um das Projekt, ein wachsender Direktkanal zu den Fans und eine klare Fähigkeit, zu skalieren, ohne dabei die Identität zu verlieren.
Damit ist „Bloodstain“ nicht nur ein starkes künstlerisches Debüt, sondern auch ein strategisch bedeutendes Album, das ein Publikum aus den Bereichen Hard Rock, Heavy Metal und moderner, riffgetriebener Metal-Musik erreichen kann, ohne durch eine enge Genre-Schublade eingeschränkt zu sein.

Bloodstain gehört zu den vielversprechendsten jungen Heavy-Metal-Bands, die in den letzten Jahren aus Schweden hervorgegangen sind. Die Ende 2023 in Stockholm gegründete Band hat sich schnell einen Namen gemacht, indem sie die Grundlagen des klassischen Metal und Hard Rock mit der Dringlichkeit, dem Selbstbewusstsein und dem Bühneninstinkt einer modernen Live-Band verbindet. Anstatt sich auf einen eng gefassten Revivalismus zu verlassen, schöpft Bloodstain aus einer breiteren Heavy-Metal-Tradition – kraftvolle Riffs, einprägsame Hooks, dynamisches Songwriting und ein klares Verständnis dafür, wie Songs sowohl auf Platte als auch auf größeren Bühnen rüberkommen müssen.
Ihr selbstbetiteltes Debütalbum „Bloodstain“ ist das erste umfassende Statement zur Identität der Band. Es präsentiert eine junge Band mit klarer Ausrichtung: diszipliniertes Songwriting, ein unverwechselbares visuelles Profil und ein Ehrgeiz, der bereits über die Clubebene hinausreicht. Während das Material die Wucht und Direktheit klassischer Heavy-Musik in sich trägt, verleihen die Entscheidungen bei Produktion und Arrangement der Platte eine zeitgemäße Kraft, die sie fest in der Gegenwart und nicht in der Vergangenheit verankert.
Das von Alex Hellid, Per Aldeheim und der Band selbst produzierte Album erscheint mit einer Geschichte, die in Presse, Handel und Exportkanälen großen Anklang findet. Bloodstain ist nicht einfach nur eine Band mit starken Songs, sondern eine Band mit Schwung. Frühe Veröffentlichungen sorgten sofort für Aufmerksamkeit, ihre visuelle Identität ist bereits klar definiert, und ihre Live-Präsenz wächst durch immer präsentere Auftritte und strategisch gewählte Vorgruppen-Slots weiter. Beim Sweden Rock Festival und beim Hellfest reagierte das Publikum bereits auf unveröffentlichtes Material, was unterstreicht, dass die Musik der Band in Echtzeit ankommt und sich nicht allein auf ihre Positionierung verlässt.
Was Bloodstain in dieser Phase auszeichnet, ist die Kombination aus Jugend, Klarheit und Bereitschaft. Die Band wirkt frisch, agiert jedoch mit einem Maß an Organisation und Zielstrebigkeit, das das Vertrauen der Branche weckt. Es entwickelt sich bereits eine Sammlermentalität rund um das Projekt, ein wachsender Direktkanal zu den Fans und eine klare Fähigkeit, zu skalieren, ohne dabei die Identität zu verlieren.
Damit ist „Bloodstain“ nicht nur ein starkes künstlerisches Debüt, sondern auch ein strategisch bedeutendes Album, das ein Publikum aus den Bereichen Hard Rock, Heavy Metal und moderner, riffgetriebener Metal-Musik erreichen kann, ohne durch eine enge Genre-Schublade eingeschränkt zu sein.

MYKI joins Craigie Knowes for his label debut ‘Legz & Soul’ EP. Moody and tense house-music mastery with the ghosts of garage-past blended seamlessly into the groove of title track ‘Legz & Soul’. The lead Vocal Mix is accompanied by a Dub Mix to round off the A-side giving DJs an alternative stripped back version should the night call for something a touch darker. ‘Get Out’ is a moulding and morphing dub-house outing that change endlessly on top of rolling and hypnotic drums to take the lead on the B-side. ‘Holy Stab’ continues in the same vein – rolling and shifting delay applied to beautiful bouncing dub stabs. A real masterclass in high quality house jams from start to finish with something for every dancefloor environment.

COW is DJ and techno producer from Perth, Australia. With a relentless drive for innovation and an obsession with exploration. Open The Closed is an EP built around a simple idea that tends to get overlooked in practice: you never really know something until you try it. "Closed" represents the ideas we dismiss too quickly and the opportunities we talk ourselves out of. "Open" is the decision to challenge that. Fear loses some of its authority once it's been confronted...

Some recordings herald the future in ways that are impossible to see in real time. Teodros Makonnen With His Organ (ቴዎድሮስ መኮንን ከኦርጋኑ ጋር), by the artist Teodros Makonnen, also known as Teddy Mak, is one of those. Today, electronic sounds, synthesizers, and digital production are taken for granted in Ethiopian music, but in the early 1980s, they were novelties that polarized opinion. Even to this day, the story of Teodros Makonnen’s legacy has never been properly told. He played a decisive role in defining the sound of the digital era of Ethiopian music that emerged in the 1980s and beyond, both as a keyboard player and as a producer, songwriter, performer, and sound designer.

Ethiopian music was at a crossroads in the early 1980s. Much like music in the rest of the world, technology and automation heralded either a quantum leap in musical development or the annihilation of musicianship, depending on who you’d ask. The changes were incremental nonetheless, but with the benefit of hindsight one can clearly see that the changes meant different things in different contexts. Drum machines and electric organs came to replace many hotel bands because, all of a sudden, one musician could control drums, melody, and accompaniment. Teodros was one of the first musicians in Ethiopia to explore the possibilities this opened up.

Teodros’ father, Captain Makonnen Beri, was a chief pilot at Ethiopian Airlines and a music enthusiast at that. This would prove important to his development, as Makonnen brought back a piano from Germany, which would lead to the first steps in Teodros’ long musical career. Captain Makonnen’s work as Head of Flight Operations and as a pilot exposed him to the wider world that was far from commonplace for most Ethiopians. In a house where music captivated the whole family, the piano gave Teodros’ talent an outlet. Not only was a piano at home rare in Ethiopian households, his father also brought an Indian teacher to their home to teach Teodros and his brother, Captain Samuel Makonnen, music theory (solfeggio or ear training) and piano. Teodros and his youngest brother, the late great Dereje, a member of both the legendary Ibex Band and the Ethiopian reggae group Dallol, took up music from that point onward, with Teodros beginning to develop his proficiency at the age of eight. His father encouraged him to practice tirelessly at home, and Teodros later received musical schooling at the German School in Addis Ababa.

His obvious talent led to studies and formal education at the Yared School of Music, followed by continued studies in American jazz at Northern Virginia Community College in Virginia. Teodros cut his teeth professionally in his mid-teens, not only as a keyboardist, but also as an arranger for the Wabi Shebelle and Dahlak bands in the 1970s. He mastered electronic sequencing early, rising to prominence through the midnight recording sessions held during the military curfew. The pressures imposed by the curfew required precise and disciplined recordings, and Teodros delivered just that. This, in turn, led to collaborations with iconic artists such as Mulatu Astatke, Aster Aweke, Menelik Wossenachew, Tilahun Gessesse, Mahmoud Ahmed, and Alemayehu Eshete.

In those days, he sat in as a keyboardist with the Dahlak Band when Dawit Yifru took a hiatus to study in Russia, and also with the Ethiostar Band. He secured a residency at the Wabi Shebelle Hotel with the Shebele Band, together with Zelalem Tadese (drums), later succeeded by Elias Bekele, Mulugeta Hailu (bass), Teferi ‘Bibisha’ Mengesha (guitar), Kumelachew G/Selassie (trumpet), and Teshome Deneke (saxophone). A friendly competition developed between the bands associated with the Ras Hotel (the Ibex Band), Ghion Hotel (the Dahlak Band), and Wabi Shebelle Hotel (the Shebele Band). The music scene at Wabi Shebelle saw teenagers commanding the spotlight in an industry otherwise dominated by musicians of an older generation.

At the Wabi Shebelle Hotel, Teodros met a diplomat from Saudi Arabia and later visited him at his home in Addis Ababa, a meeting that had unexpected musical consequences. The man owned a Yamaha double-deck keyboard. That evening, they recorded Teodros Makonnen With His Organ (ቴዎድሮስ መኮንን ከኦርጋኑ ጋር) in one take. This recording, a cornerstone in the early digital sound of Ethiopian music, came about almost by chance, simply because Teodros got the opportunity. Traditional Ethiopian songs were cast in a wholly electronic style.

Once freed from backing duties, Teodros’ keyboards could explore dreamlike soundscapes that took Ethiopian music in new directions. Even though the cassette contained well-known Ethiopian songs, they were given highly original arrangements, performed on an electric organ with drum machine backing and rhythm patterns that left the listener with suggestive, lingering sounds. “Libesh Kabashen” (also known as “Anchi Bale Game”) and “Odu Gol Golesa” wrap you in the very stuff that dreams are made of.

Originally released on cassette only, this recording exudes a mystique that surpasses even some of the most obscure Ethiopian recordings of the day. It remained more or less unknown outside of Ethiopia until now. Some of the tracks, like “Addis Fikir,” are permeated with an almost naive buoyancy, free-floating sounds that lost contact with the ground the moment they were conceived. Others, like “Meche New Hageren Yemayew” and “Lelitu Alnega Alegn,” carry a moodier, quirkier timbre, with pulsating rhythms in the background. Yet even the darker pieces contain an unmistakable wave, something essentially Ethiopian. If most recordings of Teodros’s contemporaries at the time were teeming with atmosphere, his songs seem instead at home in the stratosphere, almost ethereal. Some of the music here could be filed under “lullabies,” were it not for the recurring, almost brooding feeling that engulfs the listener on the aforementioned tracks. You could easily be forgiven for drifting into a blissful haze as the music washes over you.

Up to the advent of electronic music production, Ethiopia was totally dominated by big bands on the one hand, and small groups on the other. The former were tied to large institutions such as the military, the latter emerged from the entertainment industry, in hotel bars and nightclubs. These groups were commercially driven, and bands ultimately had to foster a mercenary approach to employment, albeit not to the passion for music. In the light of this, Teodros’ musical legacy can be seen in two ways. On the one hand, he is a key player in Ethiopian music from the 1970s onwards, leaving an indelible mark through hundreds of compositions and arrangements, including soundtracks for numerous documentary films and advertisements for different companies. On the other hand, the way he and others employed electronics brought Ethiopian music onto a fork in the road.

The replacement of traditional instruments with electronic equipment was seen as impending doom by some. Others, like Teodros, saw new avenues for performance, production, and creativity. Just as later producers like Abegasu Shiota of Admas, Teodros was a trailblazer who opened paths that it took Ethiopian music as a whole more than a decade to rush into. The hotel scene had already been pushed toward electronic music by financial necessity and cost-cutting. Today’s revived global interest in Ethiopian music from the seventies and eighties, alongside a broader resurgence, has changed the reasons for using digital means of music production. They have become tools for musical dreaming. This is where the dreaming began.

Jazz, Soul, Highlife and spoken reflection co-exist without apology on 13 new songs co-produced with Benjamin James and featuring his group The Cavemen as well as saxophonist Lakecia Benjamin. For the Grammy-nominated vocalist/songwriter Somi, each new album is an act of place-making. The catalogue of the Rwandan/Ugandan-American artist reads like a map of migration and memory, with records rooted in Lagos, in Harlem, and in the spirit and political inheritance of Miriam Makeba. 'What Does It Take To Bloom? Is her ninth album overall and her first collection of original songs in six years. Musically, it also represents a new chapter in collaboration. During sessions in Lagos, Somi connected with Benjamin James, whose partnership would become pivotal. As one-half of the Nigerian duo The Cavemen., James brings a contemporary approach to heritage-centred sound. The collaboration proved so seamless that Somi invited him to co-produce the full album, with moods and rhythms ranging from upbeat Highlife-Soul-Fusion ('Aiwah'), via jazzy statements ('Throw Something'), to soulful reflection ('What Does It Take To Bloom?').

Tucked in the heart of Koreatown, Los Angeles, lies The Libra Hotel—the titular architecture of Nick Malkin's new album and site of his musical and psychogeographic exploration. Unlike most musical "site-specific" studies, Malkin remains wholly ambivalent to the documentarian approach, instead sharpening an auteur-like focus on the site as a conceptual and highly expressive backdrop. The Libra is musically explored as a space that houses a noir fragmentation of identity—the exhausted trope of a complicated protagonist walking through rain-soaked street corners and fumy neon lights—where an inner monologue is rendered in both miniature and at a cosmic scale. Casting aside stifling tropes around field recording, ambient, and improvised music, Malkin's work finds its own unique fidelity and emotional core through the assembly and reassembly of memory. Nearly every sound on the album—from frayed saxophones, lambent pianos, and dissected jazz drum kits—are multiplied, shattered, and reconstituted into shapes that adorn The Libra in a motion-blurred fog. The narrative of the Hotel suddenly appears as if out of the mist, with intersecting characters interacting within its walls by happenstance. Adminst the languid set pieces, wraith-like sonic grains gravitate around wide subbass beams that give structural form to The Libra, a narrative tension like when a scene is shot from hundreds of different perspectives: an image both luminous and veiled.

Much like Frank Sinatra's own spatial residency immortalized on "Live at The Sands," "At The Libra Hotel" showcases an exuberant view of entertainment, hospitality, and a form of masculinity, one that can quickly detourn into darkness. Knowing this, Malkin extracts a melancholic core out of The Libra locale. The flickering shadows of American decadence are shown in their ephemeral honesty, lines that trace how even in everyday life virtue is tested, sanity is tested, even reality is tested within the confines of desire, within the night. The album is draped in fleeting textures, carefully arranged with a trance-like microtonality, the faint inflections and articulations of a jazz band cascading into dissipated stillness. Voicemails about changed locations and covert eavesdropping on guests' whispered conversations provide an atmosphere of missed connection and voyeurism—a purloined letter of desire receding into a vanishing point. Like the music itself, The Hotel, a chapel perilous at the intersection of desolation row, the center of it all, yet simultaneously at the edge of town, becomes a structure between libidinous virtuality and actuality—our inevitable half-light.

Ultimately, the pensive atmosphere of "At The Libra Hotel," powerfully asserts a plea for the kinds of intimacy only possible in transient spaces. Here, memory cascades into a force that feels like something supernatural, perhaps even religious, yet always subject to the infidelity of our imagination. Here, the album opens into its primary psychodrama, the transient nature of subjectivity itself and how this becomes fractured in the tumult between our commitments and desires. Within this nocturnal space, to quote Louise Bourgeois, "you pile up associations the way you pile up bricks. Memory itself is a form of architecture."

Japanese acid pop outfit Cho Co Pa Co Cho Co Quin Quin channel the globe-trotting spirit of Haruomi Hosono’s 1970s tropical boogie on their debut album, Tradition.

Named after one of the basic rhythms of Cuban folk music and drawing on influences from across the globe, Cho Co Pa Co Cho Co Quin Quin are quite simply a world unto itself.

Comprised of three childhood friends, Daido, Yuta and So, who reconnected during the coronavirus pandemic, Cho Co Pa initially emerged as a playful way for the three 23-year-olds to pass the time. Tapping into their youthful connection, they created a sound that exudes confidence and curiosity, a homage to the masterful world of YMO’s and Happy End’s Haruomi Hosono, rooted in the trio’s own idiosyncratic experience of the present.

Recorded at home and promoted on hugely popular DIY TikTok videos, their debut album Tradition is a technicolour exercise in armchair travelling – a kind of lockdown exotica for the housebound whose nostalgic flights of fancy are laced with a sense of whimsical melancholy for the lost freedoms of youth.

Referencing everything from Afro-Cuban percussion to lo-fi beats, Buddhist spirituality to trap, each member of the band brings different musical inspirations to the table. Latin American and Middle Eastern styles sit adjacent to a fascination for the electronic music of Aphex Twin, Dorian Concept, Underworld and Daft Punk. At times, the music verges on acid pop bliss, at others, it grooves with the instrumental funk sensibility of BADBADNOTGOOD.

“In the first place, when I create a song, my goal is to transport the listener to a mysterious place,” vocalist Daido explained in a recent magazine interview. Using lyrics as another sonic texture in the composition of ideas, Cho Co Pa paint beguiling sonic postcards of far-flung moods across 12 highly original tracks.

Marrying the organic and the electronic on rhythmically sophisticated compositions like ‘Chichibu’ and ‘Watatsumi’, it is on the album’s standout track ‘Gandhara’ that the experimental sound of Cho Co Pa comes to the fore. Referencing the ancient city of Gandhara through which Buddhism made its way from India to China, the track is a vocoder-trap-inspired, Udu drum-driven pop jam that lilts with unmistakable Balearic flair. If that’s difficult to imagine, then know simply that ‘Gandhara’ sounds like nothing else on this side of Saturn. Even Daido seemed surprised by the outcome: “I feel like we were able to create something that exceeded our abilities. That was huge!”

Hugely popular in Japan, with festival appearances lined up alongside BADBADNOTGOOD at Asagiri Jam in October, it's safe to say the success of Tradition has taken Cho Co Pa by surprise. You won’t have heard anything like it."

K-LONE returns to Wisdom Teeth with “Have a few days off” - a mini-LP of vivid, 4K club music that seeks out precious moments of release in an increasingly restless world.

The record marks his first outing on the label since 2023’s Swells, and in that time - once again - the world has changed. Thousand acre data centres. Multirotor drones. These long hot summers. K-LONE’s music has always played with escapism, but this time the question is: can music and creativity continue to provide escape when the world gets too loud to block out?

Stylistically the record absorbs the full range of K-LONE’s key musical touchstones - from swinging minimal house through to autonomic d’n’b and drifting ambient techno. Many of his established calling cards are on display here: his bright resounding chords, buoyant basslines, and fragmented vocal hooks. The record is full of joy and rapture, yet something feels off. Amongst the glowing melodies is a creeping dissonance. ASMR vocals float in and out of the mix like eerie audio hallucinations, and synths melt and detune as if warped from excessive heat. Amongst the idyll, life creeps in at the edges.

Colourful yet discordant; familiar yet strange. “You’re looking kinda sleepy. Have a few days off.”

American DJ, producer and Lone Romantic / Ellum Audio label boss Maceo Plex joins Radio Slave’s Rekids with the ‘Monster’ EP.

Maceo Plex opens the ‘Monster’ EP with 'Flute Jam', a muscular, progressive cut with broken beats and subtle chords lighting up the airwaves. Drifting vocals and widescreen synths add great scale to this intergalactic journey while textured bass brings the weight. The hyper-real and aptly named 'Baby Monster' then features vocals from Baby Monsta, refracted through a full-bodied Electro-Techno fusion. The chords dance over fizzing bass, all with future-facing sound design and an outer space atmosphere. Closer 'Cold Flow' is a prickly breakbeat cut with dehumanised, trap-style vocals and precision engineering in the groove. It's a cinematic sound that takes breaks, techno and electro into new realms while retaining a soulful, melancholic core.

Active since the 90s, Maceo Plex haș long been operating in his own musical world, where Electro, Techno and House all fuse into something futuristic and fresh. He's been shaping the underground for three decades as a DJ and producer but also head of the infl ential Ellum Audio and Lone Romantic labels. Already this year he has dropped the dark 2-step sounds of his 'The Plan EP' via the latter, which also features Baby Monsta, and continues his purple patch with a standout debut on Rekids that finds him exploring yet more new ground.

Dublin-born, thirty years an immigrant. That's the spine of henryohenry's debut, Apocrypha, not as a concept but as a condition. He's spent three decades in the United States working in the trades, absorbing the country's mythologies and building what he calls "an idiosyncratic American language" out of them, something closer to Whitman's vision than what he found. He is, by his own account, "formally and informally not a musician" — all but two of the songs were written on a $6 charity-shop guitar with a repaired headstock and strings that distorted unpredictably. It doesn't appear on the record. Produced by filmmaker Rick Alverson, the album is anchored by guitarist Eamon O'Leary and his son Ned Steves, recording together for the first time, without rehearsal. Erik Hall mixed and contributed overdubs; Emilie Rex of Lean Year lends harmonies to three songs; poet Callie Garnett appears on another. Album standout "There" captures something harder to name: how powerful feelings drive you to the page, and how the thing you make can outlast the feelings that made it. "It feels like a triumph over something," he says, "even if you're a bit embarrassed by some of the sentiment."


Apocrypha arrives as a debut but carries the patience of a life lived in full. For fans of John Cale, Nick Drake, Leonard Cohen.

The follow up to her UK number 1 album This Is How Tomorrow Moves, the stark and striking fourth album by beabadoobee is named for the electricity towers that dot every major artery in the world—the strong, spindly structures that reminded Beatrice Laus of her connection to friends and family at home while she was staring down extreme disconnection and isolation on tour over the past few years.

The title can also be read as an allusion to Laus’ spiky, forceful new sound—the waves of distortion that crash and shatter across this record’s 14 songs mirroring the intense crackle you hear when walking under power lines. The pylon is also a fitting symbol for an album that reckons with the repetitive anxieties of your mid-twenties: What if I’m always going to be this way? What if life is just pylon after pylon on the road?

The album’s first single is available to stream and buy from today: “Sun Has Set” introduces Pylon as, in essence, a set of songs that began as diary entries, words that Laus thought she’d never be able to say out loud. “A lot of the songs on this record are things I wish I could have said to someone,” she says. “This song has this petty tunnel vision—it’s like, I hate you. You’re gonna stay here and listen to how much I hate you. Because I never got to say that.” The single comes accompanied by a striking first person video directed by Bea’s partner and longtime visual collaborator Jake Erland.


Ever a devotee of pure rock music—both as something to be cherished and something to be played with—Laus casts these feelings in songs that touch on classic grunge, midwest emo and ‘90s radio rock, zeroing in on a sound that is both harsher and more direct than any of her previous records. She says the music she’s loved has “always been an influence” on her music, and so for B4 she went straight to the source. A fair few of Beabadoobee’s composite influences contributed to Pylon, a fact that speaks to the goodwill and respect Laus has amassed over the course of her relatively brief career.

Hayley Williams sings on “Nothing to Prove,” a deeply anthemic indie-rock song about getting your power back from fairweather friends who just want a bit of your success. The moody “Powerlines” features a verse from Turnstile singer Brendan Yates, a master of matching vocal force with emotional nuance. Elsewhere, you’ll find contributions from Pinegrove’s Evan Stephens Hall, Deftones’ Chino Moreno, and Title Fight’s Shane Moran, as well as, on “Write Me A Letter”, production work from Laus’ longtime friends and collaborators Matty Healy and George Daniel of The 1975.

Beabadoobee will debut songs from the record on the Powerlines Tour, her first ever arena shows and biggest tour to date, taking in shows across North America, the UK and Europe this autumn-winter. The Powerlines Tour kicks off 1 October and includes stops at Madison Square Garden, The Kia Forum, The O2 and more (full routing below). Support comes from Wisp in the US, Canada and UK and Violet Grohl in France, The Netherlands, Belgium and Germany.





Born in the Philippines and raised in London, Beatrice Laus emerged as a British alternative music icon across three acclaimed albums and five EPs. She has garnered multiple BRIT Award and BBC Sound Of nominations, and won NME’s Radar award, whilst amassing over 10 billion streams worldwide and more than 12 million followers across her social channels.

This Is How Tomorrow Moves became her first record to reach number 1 on the UK Official Album Chart in 2024, following her Top 10 albums Fake It Flowers (which reached number 8) in 2020 and 2022’s Beatopia (#4). Earlier this year, beabadoobee released the one-off single ‘‘All I Did Was Dream Of You,” teaming up with Grammy-nominated best New Artist The Marías, the result of a longtime mutual creative admiration between María Zardoya and Bea.

Moving between lo-fi experimental songwriting, sparse post-punk textures and intimate recordings; Ukrainian artist Regina Collage’s new album ‘Horizont’ is a personal and honest document of rebuilding a life and creative voice in Bristol. The record holds space for themes of burnout, quiet shame, tenderness and the courage of staying emotionally open when the world feels unstable. Sung entirely in Ukrainian, ‘Horizont’ does not ask the listener to understand every word. Feeling carries the songs forward. Across bedroom recordings and borrowed studios, Regina moves between cloudy dissonance and stark minimal arrangements built around bass, fragments of guitar, and an exposed voice. The recordings hold onto their rough edges. Mistakes remain and imperfection becomes part of the story. “Music for me is about not being scared to be vulnerable,” Regina says. “Almost every song I have is about what it means to be open and emotional. I really do not think it is a weakness. I hope people can listen and feel welcome to take a break and just let their emotions exist.” The album takes its name from the Ukrainian word for “horizon,” that unreachable line where sky meets earth. For Regina, the horizon became a quiet metaphor for living with distance and uncertainty. Inspired by one of her collage artworks showing a figure lying in grass and staring toward that far line, the title track reflects a feeling of moving toward something that never quite comes closer. Even without understanding the lyrics, the song carries a slow sense of longing and suspended arrival. m‘Vpiznavaty’, by contrast, initially feels almost light. Beneath that surface is a candid portrait of burnout and depressive exhaustion. The song looks at those moments when even greeting friends feels overwhelming. It captures the quiet embarrassment of withdrawing from people you care about, and the slow recognition that sometimes stepping away is simply how you survive. Other songs reveal different sides of the same emotional landscape. ‘Weak’ strips everything back to bass, a hint of guitar, and a bare vocal. Written and recorded in a single instinctive session, the track circles around the idea that softness might be its own kind of strength. Repetitive and intentionally unpolished, it quietly sets the tone for the whole record. Running through ‘Horizont’ is the reality of Regina’s life between Ukraine and the UK. Her hometown Kharkiv continues to face attacks, and many of her friends remain on the front line.

Inspired by a now-demolished artists' collective on the outskirts of Copenhagen, 'The House' is the debut album of Belgian-Dutch singer-songwriter Elis Floreen. Written during her years in the Danish capital, the album grew out of a place filled with decades of forgotten objects, artworks and stories. A temporary refuge for artists, dreamers and people caught between chapters of their lives.

As residents came and went, the house became a world of its own, shaped by shared meals, late-night conversations, evolving traditions and the countless stories left behind by those who passed through. When the building was eventually demolished, Floreen found herself holding on to its spirit through song. The result is an album that explores belonging, memory and the strange ways people become part of one another's lives.

Produced by Jo Francken and Pieterjan Maertens, known from their work with Tamino, 'The House' blends intimate folk, adventurous pop and richly layered arrangements into a musical world that feels both playful and deeply moving. Drawing on the storytelling spirit of Paul Simon, Kate Bush and Aldous Harding, Elis Floreen transforms everyday moments into something timeless, introducing a distinctive new voice with a debut album full of warmth, imagination and heart.

Limited White Vinyl edition of ‘Car Button Cloth’, featuring Lemonheads classics ‘If I Could Talk I’d Tell You’ and ‘The Outdoor Type’. Celebrating the album’s 30th anniversary, this reissue includes the original record + a collection of rarities and unreleased cuts (download only), continuing Fire Records in-depth series of reissues from the legendary band.


‘Car Button Cloth' is an extraordinary affair of musical and emotional extremes, a soundscape spanning “the most beautiful piano-led mourning in the history of the broken heart” that switches into perky jangle-pop for fleeting moments and contains the ultimate self-deprecating classic ‘The Outdoor Type’, penned by Smudge cohort Tom Morgan, as well as a cover of the bluegrass standard ‘Knoxville Girl’ and ‘If I Could Talk I’d Tell You’ co-written with The Vaselines’ Eugene Kelly. All bases are covered.

Clear Vinyl


Her sound remains vast and yearning, with gut-punch drums pushing through explosions of colored powder; her voice is a chrome-plated sigh, and her agile melodies soar effortlessly. - Pitchfork *BEST NEW MUSIC*
she achieves some serious cinematic grandeur. - Stereogum
Simply too sublimely crafted to ignore. - Consequence of Sound
A catchy ethereal piece of pop - Brooklyn Vegan
Rose's layered, reverb-laden vocals hit like waves of sunlight, warming her lines almost to the point of wordlessness. - Paste Magazine


"Hila. A record about loss. What persists beyond the range of ordinary perception? The place mourning keeps returning to - not quite transcendence, not quite doubt. The edge of what we can see."
Frankie Rose has spent fifteen years building one of the most quietly distinctive bodies of work in American independent music. Bursting out of the shackles of her legacy on 2024's Love As Projection, 2026's Hila builds on the muscular, dance-ready songwriting and transcendent melodies to result on Rose's most exploratory and affecting record of her career. Imbued with yearning melodies and brooding post-punk dynamics, Hila is Frankie Rose at her most impressionistic and expansive.

Self-produced at her home studio featuring collaborations with drummer Justin Welch (Elastica/Lush), Hila was recorded following extensive touring with The Jesus & Mary Chain and Swervedriver. The result is the most confident, searching music Rose has produced; muscular in its production yet emotionally vulnerable in its diffracted neon glow. A record informed by loss and the way grief mutates our senses, it's fitting that Rose channels the nuanced darkness of later Coil, at times the pounding EBM-production of Skinny Puppy and the near-spiritual alien-ness of Cocteau Twins. On Hila, the doors of perception are constantly melting, revealing the porous nature of the seen and unseen. The result is a synesthesia that flips the senses.

If Love As Projection was an outward-looking record looking to embrace the world, Hila brings the dark cosmos into inner space. Rose's love for 80s production and soaring melodies remain, they're cornerstones to her craft after all, but there's something more assured and gothic underneath the massive waves of sound. Opener Olo shimmers into a pulsating, cinematic brooder, Rose's vocal transcending and swan diving between registers in the chorus breakdowns. First single Cant Be Wrong serves as a transition from the optimistic pop of Rose's previous album, introducing a thumping 80s funk rhythm track under the soaring vocal performance. The ebullient Shadow Twin is that song's sibling, recalling major label-era Strawberry Switchblade melancholy mixed with Robin Guthrie's twinkling guitar work.

Hila blossoms darkly from here on in, blowing out into a glacial wide-screen sonic dynamic. On Rainman and the title track the listener is transported to a rain-soaked, nocturnal cityscape ridden with desire, moonlight cutting through blinds, intoxicating chasms without bounds. Rose's use of saxophone and digital synthesis recalls the nightmusic of Hats-era Blue Nile or the more ambient end of Emeralds' catalog. Indeed, in the towering synthetic cello sounds that climb into the mind on Hila, there's a distinct flavour of the instrumentals on Bowie's Low. This is musick to play in the dark, to light the way a little, just enough to trick the senses.
Leading into the strobe-filled haze, single Manifest pounds forward with a massive Industrial 4/4 beat and post-punk/goth musicality, an exercise in unlit ecstasy. For Best Of Times, the liberal saxophone passages feel like a suppressed, 80s Michael Mann soundtrack with Frankie Rose's effortless, melodic vocal performance probing, searching for connection. Navigating through the dry, iced landscape into a rising sun, closer Velvet Refrain flips the melancholy of the preceding passages. With a massive sound dripping with harmony, the clanging guitar and vocal duet feels they're sound-tracking an unexpected happy ending after bouts of darkness."

Anushka Chkheidze + Robert Lippok continue their collaboration with »The Sky Was Out of Tune«. Its eight movements form a long-form ambient piece in constant flux: soundscapes emerge from electronic synthesis and layered textures, while small melodies, rhythmic patterns, metallic noises, or distortions drift through like clouds across the sky. But a sky that is out of tune is still a sky. What shifts is the register in which it speaks.

»The Sky Was Out of Tune« emerges from a live performance for »Festival of Future Nows« at Berlin’s Neue Nationalgalerie. Its organically tangled sounds mirror the artists’ attention to nature as a system that is never quite in equilibrium. Ecosystems lean, compensate, tip, and recover—balance, in the natural world, is not a fixed state but a perpetual negotiation. Chkheidze and Lippok take this as both subject and method. Their sounds shift weight between one another, approach resolution and then withdraw from it, hold tension without release—they find form in the unstable. »Preparing something unstable completely changed the method of how we would normally split our skills or roles,« Chkheidze says. »I think in this one looong piece you feel how much we listen to each other.«

Anushka Chkheidze + Robert Lippok continue their collaboration with »The Sky Was Out of Tune«. Its eight movements form a long-form ambient piece in constant flux: soundscapes emerge from electronic synthesis and layered textures, while small melodies, rhythmic patterns, metallic noises, or distortions drift through like clouds across the sky. But a sky that is out of tune is still a sky. What shifts is the register in which it speaks.

»The Sky Was Out of Tune« emerges from a live performance for »Festival of Future Nows« at Berlin’s Neue Nationalgalerie. Its organically tangled sounds mirror the artists’ attention to nature as a system that is never quite in equilibrium. Ecosystems lean, compensate, tip, and recover—balance, in the natural world, is not a fixed state but a perpetual negotiation. Chkheidze and Lippok take this as both subject and method. Their sounds shift weight between one another, approach resolution and then withdraw from it, hold tension without release—they find form in the unstable. »Preparing something unstable completely changed the method of how we would normally split our skills or roles,« Chkheidze says. »I think in this one looong piece you feel how much we listen to each other.«

Continuing in its series of Yoko Ono reissues, Secretly Canadian has announced that Ono’s seminal 1982 album It’s Alright (I See Rainbows) will be released August 28, 2026, in expanded CD and digital versions, and on vinyl for the first time in more than forty years, with expanded and enhanced artwork. Influenced equally by 1960s girl group vocals and 1980s synthesizer experimentation, It's Alright (I See Rainbows) is an album of “adventurous… lush… committed and convincing avant-gardism” (Rolling Stone). As Ono said in her 1992 Onobox liner notes, “It was ’82 and it seemed as though I was finally in sync with the world.” Vacillating from a widow’s never-truly-over grief, to the necessary uplift for an artist and mother to continue her life’s missions, tracks like “Loneliness” and “Spec of Dust” make way for poptimism via “Let the Tears Dry,” and title track “It’s Alright.” As Ono said of the album in 1983, “It’s like my diary that I went through… and I’m just saying, hey, I’ve got the same kind of emotions that you’ve probably got too, and here I am saying hello… Around December 8th or whatever, I was feeling really heavy and feeling sort of down, you know… and then, side two, it’s all right… It was Sean Lennon who says, ‘Wake up, wake up, mommy.’ Like an angel that came and said, ‘Wake up!’… Wake up and dream love, and let the tears dry and I see rainbows. And sort of I’m saying all that. In result of Sean waking me up, see?” Lennon, speaking of his mother in a more recent interview with NPR in 2025, “She would say that energy is just energy, so you can turn it into anything you like. And she always said that she would take that negative energy and turn it into something productive and creative… It never stopped her from creating and putting herself out there, and I really think that it paid off… You never know how long it'll take for people to appreciate you if you just kind of hang on and don't give up.”

Coloured Vinyl. Harsh Reality - the fourth studio album by Seattle's The Drowns - is an unapologetically political punk record, coming this September from Pirates Press Records. Recorded at The Blasting Room in Fort Collins, CO by punk rock legend Bill Stevenson (Descendents, Black Flag) and mixed by Jason Livermore (Teenage Bottlerocket), this collection of 13 new songs fuses everything fans have loved about the band's previous sonic experimentation and focuses it into laser-tight melodic songwriting firmly rooted in punk rock, but with the potential to reach listeners from all walks of life. Singer-guitarist Rev Peters, singer-bassist Andy Wylie, and drummer Jake Margolis largely bashed out the tracks themselves, with the exception of additional guitar work on "Vengeance" by Zach Blair (Rise Against, Only Crime, GWAR), and a touch of accordion on "3rd & Pike" courtesy of Matt Hensley (A-100s, Flogging Molly). While the title of lead single "Relentless" could easily refer to The Drowns' infamously non-stop touring regimen, it refers instead to something far more humanitarian: the crushing weight of capitalism on the working poor. The song acknowledges the toll it takes on one's mental health, struggling day in & day out with no breaks only to be left farther & farther behind. "I wish life would just give it a rest", laments Rev. The album contains its fair share of venom, however, like all great political punk in the tradition of The Clash or Stiff Little Fingers, the lyrics prioritize people over polemic, reaching out with compassion in an age where it is in distressingly short supply. "I'm sure that we could change it all if we only had a heart", implores Andy on "Have a Heart". This is life-affirming music for hard times, made for everyone that could sorely use it right now, and a record poised to give the band's hard-earned position as a fan-favorite in the global punk scene an even greater trajectory. For a band that has won over fans around the globe, record by record and show by show, it is a big statement, but simply put: Harsh Reality is The Drowns at the top of their game.

Lummer is the Swedish name for the now protected family of vascular plants (Clubmoss/Lycopodiaceae). Lummer grows slowly and the spores with which it reproduces can take 12—20 years to develop. These spores, known as Nikt in Swedish, were once ground into an extremely flammable light yellow “old woman’s gunpowder” that was used for early theatrical pyrotechnics. Volatile and explosive, Lummernikt requires careful handling.

There is something of the small scale dangerous in Finn Loxbo’s Lummernikt, too. A not-at-all-risk-free traversal at the limits of technique: building, blowing up and working through a band’s worth of harmonic scaffolding. Eight songs on a stage. Dramatic, breath-taking. At the same time the wild, flickering rush of tones spins up a centrifugal force that suspends a certain calm or sitting still at the music’s core.

On Lummernikt, Loxbo’s guitar often sounds more like a concert harp or the West African kora as he shifts a set of melodic fragments and extended lines through rapid-fire arpeggiated permutations with a spontaneous energy that is countered only by his extraordinary touch on the instrument and an undeniable sensitivity to his material’s dynamic potential.

It’s a glorious extension of the chiming chords and experimental preparations heard in his contributions to Magnus Granberg's Skogen (Another Timbre) or via his own ensemble Kommun (Fönstret, Thanatosis) and in striking contrast to the distorted wail he contributes to Anna Högberg Attack’s Ensamseglaren (Fönstret) or his all-in-the-red trio Kyosaku (Corbett vs Dempsey).

It’s now several years ago that Finn sent me the first recording of his new band Kommun and asked if I had suggestions for a label that might want to release it. I played that recording on repeat until I couldn’t shake the idea that I needed to start a label to put it out myself. Lummernikt is the spark that keeps that fire alive.

Die unvergesslichen Klassiker der legendären Marlene Dietrich auf einer hochwertigen Vinyl-LP vereint.

Diese Sammlung präsentiert die größten Erfolge einer der bedeutendsten deutschen Künstlerinnen des 20. Jahrhunderts und lässt ihre unverwechselbare Stimme in bester Klangqualität neu aufleben.

Mit dabei sind zeitlose Klassiker wie:
Lili Marleen
Sag mir, wo die Blumen sind
sowie viele weitere unvergessene Aufnahmen.

Ob als Sammlerstück oder zum Genießen auf dem Plattenspieler – diese Vinyl-Ausgabe ist eine Hommage an eine außergewöhnliche Künstlerin und ein Muss für Liebhaber klassischer Chansons und deutscher Musikgeschichte.

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

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

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

Futaishitsu Souzou is the first vinyl album released by Japanese duo la scène 裸身, a duo of Saya on vocals and bass, and Eiji on guitar. They’ve been an understated but deeply impressive presence on the Japanese underground for the best part of a decade now, having self-released a debut album, Ten No Sekido, in 2018, which saw them co-producing by Atsuo of Boris, who also worked with them on the following year’s Corridor EP. The mystery and magic of their songs, which vibrate in a curious space between psychedelic rock, acid folk and slowcore, is at its strongest on Futaishitsu Souzou.

la scène 裸身 have long been interested in art that’s stripped back to its simplest, most elemental form, much as their name represents the Japanese word ‘rashin’, which means naked body. There is something unadorned about the three songs on Futaishitsu Souzou; Saya’s becalmed, unhurried vocal delivery reflects the gentle intensity of the simple, gem-like chord changes strewn through songs like “Futaishitsu Souzou” itself, and the bittersweet, folkish lament of “Reiyou”, a song inspired by the loss of the band’s friend, Gazelle.

Futaishitsu Souzou is steeped in melancholy, but it is not resigned to this emotional state; there are threads of rebirth and transcendence woven through the album’s three lovely, slowly enveloping, and deeply moving songs. Often, you can hear that transcendence in the soaring, sky- burning guitar playing that cleaves these songs in twain, from guest guitarist Hiroshi Kurosawa (of Asylum). At times, the music here recalls the drift-like psych-rock of the Paisley Underground; elsewhere, it explodes with vibrant intensity, swarming with noise and feedback, that runs alongside similarly delirious examples from the Japanese underground.

And yet, la scène 裸身 is entirely its own thing, a unique, singular vibration, a oneiric manifestation of hermetic visionary art.

Richmond's IRON REAGAN returns with their original lineup for the thrashing new EP, DEMONETIZATION. 6 blistering tracks clocking in at just 10 minutes, DEMONETIZATION shows the band (Tony Foresta, Ryan Parrish, Dr. Guitar, Phil Hall, and Adam Guilliams) crushing through the Punk, Hardcore, Fastcore, Thrash Metal, and more that have made IRON REAGAN a mainstay since their original 2012 demo. IRON REAGAN's most Punk lineup returns to deliver breakneck music at breakneck speeds. "Very excited to release new music with the original Iron Reagan lineup," says Foresta. "This is the first time we've released something with Paul since 2014 (Exhumed Split). This is some of our strongest/heaviest material we've done to date. Looking forward to getting back on the road with these guys and seeing everybody." Reactivated and ready to roll, IRON REAGAN promises that DEMONETIZATION is just a taste of things to come! Short: Richmond's IRON REAGAN returns with their original lineup for the thrashing new EP, DEMONETIZATION. FFO: D.R.I., Power Trip, Iron Age, The Accused, Nuclear Assault, Anthrax

Remastered limited edition double vinyl with double-sided screenprinted poster-cover (sleeve folds out to be one huge poster). A real collectors item!

When Off Off came out around June 1984, one couldn’t speak of an independent music scene in Portugal. Warm Records’ vague existence didn’t have any impact and Dansa do Som’s inaugural release appeared only in December. 10 years after the revolution, after two IMF interventions, a lot of political instability (not to say turmoil, in the first couple of years) and the natural excesses of a sudden burst of freedom, the Portuguese consumer had more choices but a generally poor standard of living. There was no entrepreneurial culture and serious second thoughts about investing private money in risky ventures.

After many complaints about the whole music scene (institutions, critics and record label executives, popular and classical music alike), something that would continue well beyond the end of the decade, Telectu decided to finance, record, produce, release and sell an album with complete independence from outside structures. Their karmic reward was profit. According to Vítor Rua, Off Off was the only album fully payed by the duo and the only one that really payed off. Not an easy accomplishment for a double LP housed in a large (also double-sided) screenprint with complicated cuts and folds. The artwork was conceived by António Palolo, a friend and multidisciplinary artist. It was based on a collage of heavily saturated and xeroxed polaroids framed in shocking pink and green. Palolo was considered the third member of Telectu, regularly producing slides, video and other visual support for their shows. The inspiration for the type of cover came from GRM’s Gramme series.

Off Off is divided in four distinct sides, each one corresponding to a “theme” or “function” related to Telectu’s manifold artistic interests and interactions. The titles are also gateways to influences and a small portion of Portuguese cultural life:

- Side 1 / “Diagonale” is dedicated to Egídio Álvaro, art critic and gallery director (he opened Diagonale in Paris). Performance art was arguably his main artistic concern over the years, so the music on this side is suggested for use by one or more performers in live or playback situations. The three tracks segue into each other, linked by a synth arpeggio much in the same way as Telectu’s previous “Belzebu” álbum (1983);

- Side 2 / “Anarké” is dedicated to the composer Filipe Pires, one of Jorge Lima Barreto’s recurring invocations when asked about worthwhile contemporary music in Portugal. It is subtitled “concert music”, proposing «a new form of listening». Three tracks also, and these are separated by “clap interludes”, which basically consisted in the following: JLB and VR each had a pair of headphones on, and they clapped their hands according to the rhythm of the music each one was listening. Both musicians were interacting with a different Steve Reich piece: Vítor with “Music for Mallet Instruments”, Jorge with “Six Pianos”. The result is disjointed clapping, an awkwardly deliberate celebration of their own music. Telectu applauded themselves.

- Side 3 / “Cornucópia” is subtitled “music for theatre” and dedicated to Luís Miguel Cintra and Luís Lima Barreto (JLB’s brother), both connected to the Cornucópia theatre company. The side consists of several short pieces previously used as interludes in the Cornucópia staging of “Mariana Espera Casamento” (1983). Field recordings, mood pieces, ambience and a numeric poem (“Soneto Soma 14x”, by E.M. de Melo e Castro) read by João Perry, a quite well-known stage actor. His voice is treated with a flanger effect;

- Side 4 / “Palolo” is “video music”. It’s a one-take mix recorded from cassette sources (Telectu studio experiences) and done live while watching António Palolo’s Om film (1978) projected on the living room wall. It’s a deep, immersive, quasi-mystical 20-minute piece perfectly suiting the meditative, abstract, fluid images created by Palolo by mixing paint and water inside a bathtub. One imagines the Cosmos, hardly suspecting the technique. The film is 90 minutes long, so the music on the LP is of course edited.

The six titles on sides 1 and 2 evoke demons, all of them with conflicting symbolism, since it varies from culture to culture, religion to religion. No explanation is given and Vítor Rua has no idea where this imagery comes from. During virtually the whole stretch of the 1980s, Jorge was the one in charge of titles and concepts, and Vítor didn’t bother too much even reading the liner notes :) In any case, when you synchronize the listening experience with the imagery, a powerful impression emerges, a feeling of being in the presence of these entities while placing yourself inside the sonic narrative.

Off Off is undoubtedly a seminal album in the history of electronic music, as much Heldon as Fripp & Eno, jazz and American minimalism, cosmic out-thereness, mantric miniatures. Telectu at the height of their powers, still very early on, delivering an album-manifesto advocating intermedia art and the fierce independence of Portuguese musicians «from the scum of capitalist music industry monopolies. It’s a path to follow, albeit one that requires enduring hardships and retaliation from music industry gangsters.» Despite a few journalists deemed «capable of being free», the media are «enslaved by the dominant and fascist imbecility of the speculators of light music.» Off Off is addressed to those journalists «and to an audience angry at the cultural misery imposed upon us ..., certain that this music will open new horizons of musical pleasure in the conception of Portuguese avant-garde music, and in the open consciousness of us all. OFF OFF repeats Freedom.»

Those two words are a direct lift from Alberto Arbasino’s 1968 book Off Off, the basis of which is a critical analysis of Theodor Adorno’s and Dwight MacDonald’s ideas concerning the stratification of culture in different levels (high, mid and low) and the pervasiveness of mass culture in the form of a culture industry. In very simplistic terms, and that is precisely the point that inspired Jorge, Arbasino argued that it was possible and desirable to effect a revolution from below, cultivating alternative circuits completely cut-off from what he termed the in-in reality. Telectu’s record was a deliberate demonstration that it could be done, displaying Freedom in the face of all the gatekeepers and other human obstacles.

Geoff Kirkwood (Man Power)

I’dgained some notoriety as a music producer and DJ but I hit a horrible case of writers block around 2018.

The problem I was finding was that I was trying to shoe horn every smart arsed clever dick musical reference I had into the music I was making, but the function of dance music is to make people dance, not to show people who broad your musical references are, so I was making pretty shitty music that landed in the middle and didn’t achieve either aim.

To tackle this I ended up committing to just trying to make the most expressive and wanky experimental stuff I could. I was immersed in club culture at the time so the whole enterprise started as a joke, hence the name “Bed Wetter”. However when I fully submitted to just naked exploration the really unexpected thing that happened was that I found myself unavoidably having to deal with a lot of my own bullshit. That bullshit turned into the “Billy Mill is Dead” album, which was essentially the sound of me excavating my own life and looking at how I felt about where I was from, where I was headed, my family, my history, my region and all of the things i have conflicting feelings about.

It was partially catharsis and also a bit of deprogramming around being able to call myself an artist after being raised to believe that wasn’t an option for me.

I self released Billy Mill is Dead in the months before the pandemic and it found it’s fair share of love in the places I hoped would connect with it, and just the right amount of being ignored by people who I’m pleased didn’t feel it. This all lead to me being emboldened enough to apply for an artist in residence position at a big regional opera house months later in the middle of lockdown.

My feeling was that if my DJ career was potentially over for the remainder of my lifetime then there was no harm in exploring this alternative method of expression to see where it could take me.

I submitted a ridiculously ambitious plan for what I would like to do as a project, and to my absolute shock I was selected for the position.

I was 40 years old and from a scarcity background so I had a potentially unique response to that kind of validation for the first time and what followed next was a process of me just coming back with bigger and more ridiculous ideas just to find out at whatstage they’d tell me to stop.

The thing is, nobody did. I got as far as suggesting writing a full symphony to be performed by an orchestra before my own nerve gave out and I decided that was probably as far as I should push things.

The problem with people giving you permission to do things is that you then need to go out and figure out how to do those things.

The biggest issue for me, beyond raising the money to pay for everything, was how does a person actually write a symphony?

I was introduced to Fiona Brice, a multi instrumentalist and orchestral arranger. She’s also a recording artist who releases on Bella Union. On top of that she’s a violinist who used to be part of the band Placebo and who used to appear regularly playing for other bands on things like Top of the Pops.

Not only was Fiona uniquely placed to not look down on the strange provenance of someone from an Acid House background wanting to write a symphony, but more to the point we really hit it off from day one.

Fiona coached me in the essentials of writing for an Orchestra, and then I went off and wrote the 8 movements.

I’d love to say I laboured for years over this bit, but it took about 2 weeks in total. I’d also love to say what I wrote was a complete symphony, but the version of this which is solely me feels like looking at something without your glasses on. The shape,feel and borders were all there, but the definition was absent. Fiona taught me the broad language of a symphony, but without her it would have lacked all intonation, nuance and detail. Where I had shaped ideas with a hammer, she brought out my meaning with precision using a scalpel.

I think the prodigiously quick turnaround for the music is as much proof of how conceptually and musically aligned Fiona and I are. I know we’re both incredibly proud of what we’ve created.

It took nearly 2 more years to stage the debut performance in what was potentially the most traumatic period of my life which saw me embroiled in an international crisis with my own family and the death of my father, all with the backdrop of COVID.

The work itself is inspired by the working class experience, but it’s also a comment on how we get to decide what we are and how we’re defined, and we get to choose what we do to prove these things.

The original recording was contractually impossible to ever share again, so we re-recorded it in a working men’s club with jobbing (albeit world class) players. In many ways it’s a record that feels like it shouldn’t exist, which is why we’re all so happy that it does.

“An amazing new project…” Tony Minvielle, Jazz FM

“A lush, heatwave-friendly piece of dancefloor innovation…” Clash Magazine


First Word Records is delighted to bring you the debut EP from Ships of the Pharaohs.


Ships of the Pharaohs are a London-based collective led by producer Last Nubian, who’s had releases in his own right on labels like CoOp Presents, Eglo Records & Touching Bass. Blending jazz, soul, bossa nova, d&b and house-influenced grooves, the band also consists of vocalist Achanté, keys player Goldbar & bassist, Dougan.

The 7-track EP kicks off with the high-energy, vitamin D-saturated lead single ‘Sun is Rising’, featuring the guest vocals of brilliant Berlin-based singer Red Bird, who appears on three tracks on this project (‘For You’ and ‘Seasons’). ‘Can’t Quit’ follows on a smooth soulful house/bruk tempo, and invites in the thought-provoking spoken word prose of AKEEM. ‘Seasons’, ‘For You’ and recent single ‘Joys’ add another element to the band’s eclectic take on fusion, leaning heavily into the bossa side of the quartet’s influences. The latter track sees Achanté’s soulful harmonies gracefully float across a warm bed of keys, percussion, guitar picks & synth strings. We take a short jazzy breather on the ‘Interlude’ cut, featuring the resplendent sax of multi-talented Norwegian artist, Bror Havnes, who also features on the outro cut ‘One’ - this one seeing the crew ride out with a sonic salute to jungle/d&b, closing this first opus from the group with the energy levels remaining high.

Tre Wright (aka Last Nubian) explains “Our debut EP is a reflection of who we are, both individually and as a collective. Drawing inspiration from jazz, jungle, bossa nova, house, r&b and the music that's shaped us, we've explored our own interpretation of these sounds and how they come together in a way that feels true to us. It gave us the space to experiment without boundaries, trust our instincts, and create something that genuinely reflects where we are creatively right now.”


Originally conceived to perform Last Nubian material live for a Touching Bass showcase at We Out Here festival in 2023, the project soon took on a life of its own, as the group effort unleashed a unique chemistry & sound of its own merit. Thereafter followed numerous sessions in a studio-converted bedroom of a Brixton flat, developing this new sound. The finishing touches were taken care of at the infamous Total Refreshment Centre in North London, resulting in the formation of captivating new original material, which appears across this first extended release.

Ships of the Pharaohs have additionally performed live across London at Brick Lane Jazz Festival, House of KOKO, Jazz on Wick Festival, Peckham Levels, 91 Living Room & GROW in Hackney. Developing their powerful stage presence has gone hand in hand with the creation of their own material.

The initial singles from this project received praise & support from a variety of DJs, press outlets & tastemakers from the worlds of jazz, soul and clubland, including Shy One (NTS), Tony Minvielle (Jazz FM), Rohan Rakhit (Worldwide FM), Somewhere Soul & Clash Magazine to name a few.


With sonics somewhat reminiscent of Acid Jazz legends Incognito, merged with the class of Nuyorican Soul, and the dynamic fluidity of 4Hero, the 4-piece have cooked up a set of style & flavours uniquely their own, fresh for modern dances, incorporating organic improvisation with more contemporary club sounds.

The Ships of the Pharaohs are about to set sail for what is sure to be an exciting journey ahead.

‘Part 1’ will be released on 12” vinyl & all digital platforms on September 18th 2026.

From Berlin to Lagos: Jembaa Groove expand their sound on "Be A Lover"

Berlin-based outfit Jembaa Groove return with "Be A Lover", a four-track EP set for full release on 18 September via global soul imprint Agogo Records. Following two critically acclaimed albums and an intensive period of touring across Europe and the US — including a SXSW showcase and a widely acclaimed KEXP session — this latest release marks a new chapter in the band’s trajectory. Built around highlife rhythms and shaped by Afro-jazz and the more organic edges of Afrobeats, "Be A Lover" unfolds with a warm, languid and deeply soulful feel, capturing different strands of today’s multifaceted Afrofusion scene.

Here, the band strips back from a seven-piece ensemble to its two founding members, while at the same time opening outward into a deeply collaborative space. At its centre is a close creative partnership with celebrated Nigerian highlife revivalists The Cavemen., alongside contributions from London-based, Nigerian born soul artist Azekel, Lagos vocalist Tim Lyre, and Malian icon Fatoumata Diawara.

“This record has a different flavour,” says Owusu. “It’s really about collaboration — different feelings, different thoughts, different energies coming together.” While centred around the Lagos contemporary scene, the record is shaped by a wider diasporic network stretching across London, Lagos, Berlin and Amsterdam, cities producer and bass player Yannick Nolting describes as “the pillars where everything that is happening in today’s highlife and Afro-fusion scene.”

Formed in Berlin in 2020, Jembaa Groove began after a chance meeting between bassist, producer and composer Yannick Nolting and percussionist, vocalist and songwriter Eric Owusu. Drawing on their respective musical journeys — Nolting’s years working with Lusophone artists in Lisbon and Owusu’s deep roots in Ghana’s highlife tradition, including work with Pat Thomas and late highlife legend Ebo Taylor — the project quickly took shape: their debut album Susuma established a powerful, poly-rhythmic sound grounded in highlife, jazz and soul, while 2024’s "Ye Ankasa | We Ourselves" expanded that vision through collaborations with artists across Ghana and its diaspora, including UK based Ghanaian singer, rapper, percussionist, and arranger K.O.G and legendary Ghanaian highlife musician Gyedu-Blay Ambolley.

The collaborative spirit continues on "Be A Lover", most of which grew out of a meeting with sibling duo The Cavemen. at Supersonic Jazz Festival in Amsterdam in 2023, leading to a sustained exchange of ideas between Berlin and Lagos. With two acclaimed albums behind them, The Cavemen. have emerged as central figures in both Lagos’ alternative music scene and the wider contemporary highlife revival, bringing the genre to a new generation through a stripped-back, melody-driven sound. “There was some kind of magnetism towards Lagos,” says Nolting; for Owusu, who is Ghanaian but spent much of his life in Nigeria, the connection runs even deeper. “I feel lucky to be able to bring different cultures together and make something really beautiful,” he says. A key part of that process was a close working exchange between Nolting and The Cavemen.’s Kingsley Okorie, who effectively stepped into a co-producing role on three out of four of the tracks.

The one exception is opener No Pain No Gain, which features Nigerian-born, East London-based Azekel, whose smooth, R&B-leaning vocal moves through a slow-burning arrangement of bright keys, gently rising horns and atmospheric synths, anchored by Owusu’s organic percussion.

The title track Be A Lover, featuring Afro-fusion Lagos artist Tim Lyre, distills the EP’s central message into its most immediate form. Backed by syncopated percussion and a gently smouldering arrangement, Lyre’s voice moves with a laid-back, melodic ease, delivering a simple refrain: “be a lover, not a fighter.” “It’s a very simple message,” says Nolting, “It’s about showing more love, on a personal level but also more broadly… just show love.” That same sense of warmth runs throughout the record, reflecting its core idea.

On Obi, The Cavemen. take centre stage, with Kingsley Okorie leading through melancholic, plaintive vocals rooted in classic highlife. In contrast, his brother Benjamin James punctuates the track with high-pitched vocal interjections, heightening the emotional tension against a backdrop of slow, restrained instrumentation.

Waka follows with a more melodic, hook-led refrain from Eric Owusu, whose loose, almost conversational delivery creates a striking contrast with Fatoumata Diawara’s unmistakably powerful, raspy vocal. The collaboration grew out of a chance meeting while Owusu was on tour, with ideas exchanged quickly and Diawara returning a finished vocal within days. “We are so proud to have her. It’s a privilege” says Owusu. "Be A Lover" is a record shaped by connections like these — between people, scenes, and cities. “It was partly intention, partly destiny,” says Nolting. “We met these people along the way, and somehow Lagos was meant to come into our path.”

For any collaborative project to succeed, the artists involved need a creative unifier – a meeting point, if you will, of their disparate interests and experiences. In the case of Mondo Love & Betrayal, the joint project of Nottingham musical mainstays Neil ‘Nail’ Tolliday and Henry Claude Scott, there were two creative unifiers: a mutual love of classic 1980s synth-pop, as well as shared admiration for each other’s work.

Even so, such shared interests and respect for prior mutual endeavours is no guarantee of success. Yet as their eponymous debut album emphatically proves, the duo’s disparate experiences, characteristics and musical strengths have not only dovetailed beautifully, but also resulted in serious sonic gold. Put simply, Mondo Love & Betrayal is a stunning debut album rich in emotive songs, colourful melodies, atmospheric chord progressions and infectious grooves. Throw in the sun-splashed warmth and saucer-eyed, loved-up tactility of late 80s dance beats, and you have a breakthrough album whose timelessness is evident from start to finish.

The project’s roots lie in Tolliday’s desire to work with Scott, a virtuoso guitarist, talented producer and secret songwriter best-known for his work alongside Huw Costin as Torn Sail, and John ‘Ming’ Thompson as Brown Fang – both projects known for prioritising organic instrumentation and sunset-ready soundscapes over dancefloor-rooted beats.

Tolliday, of course, is one of British electronic music’s true polymaths – a long-serving house producer best-known for his long-running Bent project alongside fellow Nottingham resident Simon Mills. He initially approached Scott with the idea of providing vocals on a house track he was working on, but quickly suggested something else: an exploration of a classic synth-pop sound inspired by his love of Pet Shop Boys, New Order, Depeche Mode and the producers who worked with them – the likes of Martin Hannett, Arthur Baker, Stephen Hague and John Robie.

Scott accepted the invitation, seeing it as an opportunity to explore a different side of his musical personality. Their first recording session resulted in the ear-catching and memorable brilliance of ‘Correspondence’ – a tongue-in-cheek breakup song inspired by the death of landlines and the rise of mobile communications – and soon they were working on their debut album.

The resultant 10-track set is simply sublime, with Scott’s expressive delivery of his own lyrics on life, love, heartache and rejection working in perfect union with Tolliday’s kaleidoscopic and pleasingly authentic backing tracks – gorgeous and beautifully rendered instrumentals rich in memorable melodies, bittersweet chords, and subtle nods to ‘80s and early ‘90s dance-pop culture, from Shep Pettibone style remixes and Bernard Sumner guitar licks, to Beloved-esque piano parts and Chris Lowe chord progressions. Some listeners may also draw favourable comparisons with 21st century synth-pop practitioners, particularly Parcels, Private Agenda and the deeply emotive songs showcased by Junior Boys.

For proof, wrap your ears around such album highlights as opener ‘Boo Boo’, where Scott warns that “love and betrayal will haunt you” atop sparkling synths and Vince Clarke style grooves, the Behaviour-era PSB melancholy of recent single ‘Your Latest’, the mid-tempo dreaminess of ‘Beyond The Rainy City’, the early Depeche Mode chug of ‘Whatever Happened To Me’ and the tactile warmth of ‘Across The Plane’.

We could go on. In truth, the whole album is – in Scott’s words – “magical musical alchemy”. Wherever they choose to go next, Mondo Love & Betrayal is a seriously good sonic statement of intent.

Get On Your Knees' (1968) was the global hit recorded by the Spanish band Canarios, a true anthem that took the British soul scene by storm and still today gets regular plays at '60s clubs. 'To Be A Man,' on the b-side, is a rare gem by Camilo Sesto, packed with fuzz bass guitar and sophisticated arrangements, making it perfect for the dance floor. Canarios, the band led by Teddy Bautista, was one of the first Spanish groups to incorporate the sounds of emerging musical trends-primarily from the English-speaking world-into its repertoire. It was also one of the first Spanish bands to tour the States (they even recorded an album there under the name The Canaries). In 1968, 'Get On Your Knees' was released, a stunning soul track recorded by Swiss producer Alain Milhaud that quickly climbed the charts in numerous countries. Its appeal remains undiminished, and it still gets regular spins in the 60s scene today. 'To Be A Man' is something of a rarity in the discography of Spanish singer Camilo Sesto, whose songs typically lean toward straightforward melodic pop and ballads. Surrounded by an international team of collaborators under the direction of former Brincos member Juan Pardo as producer, he recorded this psychedelic-tinged pop song. Its sophisticated arrangements and sinuous fuzz-laden bass line create an effective and irresistible dancefloor-filler that was released as a 7" single in several countries but, curiously, not in Spain. First-ever single reissue of both songs.

After meeting and working with Janko Nilovic - the extraordinary French library maestro - on a new album, while traveling and performing together around the world for almost 10 years, Igor Zhukovsky & Romeo Miussky - the multi-instrumentalist production duo, and rhythm core of The Soul Surfers - were inspired to make a record of free, spiritual, esoteric sounds which blended together on tape and made Sound Excitement happen.Drawing on their experience as soundtrack composers and using heavyweight Soviet analog equipment, including a few vintage personal instruments belonging to some legends of the Soviet leftfield music scene, Igor & Romeo started experimenting with genre-blending music. The outcome of their recordings are a mixed bag of different moods and genres."It's something similar to a library record or more like a compilation of many different library records on one LP for a good decade if you know what I mean? It's the work which we're really excited about and excited to share with you! ...oh that's hell of a wordplay!"

The first new material from Krash Slaughta since last autumn finds our man dropping a tuff 45 featuring two dope ATCQ remixes. And what else to call that but ATCK a.k.a. ‘A Tribe Called Krash’! First up is Scenario which gets a gritty guitar-led new beat making it sound closer to something by Gravediggaz at their noisiest (or even DMX) than the Afro-centric jazz-hope vibes of Native Tongues. Over on the flip, a co-production with, and tribute to, the now sadly departed Del the Soul Condor, takes Low End Theory’s Buggin’ Out and sticks with the jazzy vibes but swaps Buggin’s minimal double-bass dominated shenanigans for something rather more Latinate and Bonita Applebum-esque. Naturally these are as cheeky as they come so it’s a strickly limited affair. Don’t sleep…

This release is more than just a collection of tracks—it’s a statement of identity. Rooted in the raw energy of acid, techno, and house music, every sound, groove, and hypnotic sequence reflects a commitment to authenticity and creative freedom. In a world that constantly pushes artists to follow trends, staying true to who you are is one of the most powerful things you can do.

This project was created without compromise, driven by a genuine passion for underground electronic music and the belief that honest expression always resonates the deepest. The acid lines cut through with intensity, the techno rhythms drive relentlessly forward, and the house elements bring soul and movement to the journey.

We truly believe in this release because it represents exactly what we stand for as artists: originality, integrity, and a dedication to the music that inspires me. This isn’t about fitting in—it’s about creating something real. Turn it up and experience the sound of staying true to your identity.

Oscar Later is the solo project of one half of Once Twice, formerly known as Parallels. The EP takes its premise from the 1967 Outer Space Treaty, which ruled that no nation could claim ownership of the Moon or any other celestial body. Across six tracks, that idea of ownership, distance and free imagination runs through the record, which combines breakbeat and shimmering synths with processed vocals and clips from vintage ads and obscure films.

"I wanted the record to feel like public-domain myths, commercial promises and space-age optimism all colliding," Oscar says, "blurring the line between memory and fantasy."

Opener 'Air Time for Andre' channels chopped-up breaks reminiscent of Skee Mask, combined with processed found audio. 'Wenlocked', named after the East London street where it was written, develops from a downtempo sketch into a heavier club track as the bassline builds, inspired by releases on Voam and Floating Points' live sets. 'It Never Made Sense' steps away from the dancefloor, built around a granulated Orion Sun vocal that, as Oscar puts it, "ties the track into quite a surreal space," leaning towards Burial, Overmono and Radiohead.

The title track, 'The Moon Belongs to You', runs a vocoded 90s ad through a detuned one-note synth. It's the track Oscar says "best encapsulates the intention of the EP as a whole: surreal, wacky and clubby." 'Yaya' keeps the energy up as a straight techno cut, its gated bassline locking in around a chopped vocal and pitched samples. Closer 'That's Quite A Lot Of Zeroes!' expands from a stripped-back Buchla line into something huge, driven by chopped samples and inspired by sci-fi scores like Dune and Annihilation.

The cover is designed by art director Will Millner with designer Josh Lowe, a homage to space food and 80s industrial design geared to survive life on the moon. It's available as a limited vacuum-packed 12" record.

The EP launches alongside a music video for 'It Never Made Sense', directed by Louis Mackay, telling the story of a group of kids who steal the moon for themselves.

Music From Memory presents ‘Miraggi’, the debut release by Argento, a new project conceived by composer and producer David August. Written between Berlin and the Tuscan coast, the record unfolds as an imagined soundtrack to the Mediterranean, shaped by memory, longing and a profound connection to landscape.

The earliest sketches emerged during extended periods spent along Italy’s Tyrrhenian coast, where the shifting light, vegetation and ever-changing presence of the sea became lasting creative impulses. At the same time, an immersion in Italian library music of the 1970s and ‘80s quietly informed the project’s tonal language, while traces of jazz fusion and Balearic ambience surfaced not as direct references but as distant echoes.

Built around a dialogue between synthesizers, electronics, acoustic percussion and environmental recordings, ‘Miraggi’ balances rhythmic movement with spacious, cinematic composition. During the recording process, August was joined by drummer and percussionist Lorenzo Setti, whose performances and co-writing became an integral part of the album’s evolving rhythmic language. Across extended improvisations and recording sessions, August and Setti gradually shaped a musical language that feels both deeply personal and quietly transportive, allowing atmosphere and place to become as important as melody or rhythm.

The title ‘Miraggi’ (‘Mirages’) emerged organically, evoking a longing for something that remains just out of reach — something that cannot fully be grasped or lived. It suggests a suspended state between perception and imagination, akin to a hallucination or a dream. In this sense, ‘Miraggi’ reflects the project’s inner narrative: an imagined soundtrack shaped by desire, memory and the spiritual abundance of the Mediterranean Sea.

‘Miraggi’ will be released on vinyl and digitally via Music From Memory on September 10th 2026.

Frazer Ray lands on Time Is Now with Masha EP. Four tracks of killer, stripped back FWD facing proto/future garage effortlessly pushing the sound into a new direction.

FACTS:

1. Frazer Ray knows how to make a dance. IYKYK…. Recently he’s been shelling Live UKG cooked right in front of you on a custom modular rig. Mad energy. 100% party business.

2. Frazer Ray knows a thing or two about making UK soundsystem music. The artist FKA Soundbwoy Killah is now a decade deep in his discography. And first as ‘Soundbwoy Killah’ and now as ‘Frazer Ray’ he is 2 for 2 with aliases that never miss.

3. New Frazer Ray is always something to get excited about. For 10+ years he’s kept it super tight. Quality over quantity. Always holding dubplates. When releases have landed they drop on only the best labels; including both Rinse and Rinse’s new INGRAM imprint, Ninja Tune’s Technicolour imprint, Sneaker Social Club, Interplanetary Criminal’s Locked On and IPC & Main Phase’s ATW Records. (side note - his Soundbowy Killah - ‘Halcyon Daze’ LP on Sneaker is IMO an all time classic - do not sleep on that one). Aaaannd… if the dubplates got too heavy he’s also occasionally dropped weight on his own U-Phorix label.

Also…..what has always struck me about Frazer’s music is that it’s simultaneously integral in the hardcode continuum while also pushing it forward. It’s always complete. Fully formed. You never bristle. There’s no failed experiments. Just a firm nod to the future for anyone looking.

OK… Run the tracks.

Masha’s vocal licks tell it straight, this one is “Fire”. Proper club business to test the stacks. The drums roll steady in front of a wall of sub bass. A killer mix of post dubstep era goodness, techno sound design and the shuffle & swing of proto dubstep.

Settle Down There’s something 90’s tek step about this one. Dark and moody with a wall of bass. It bristles with texture and atmosphere before – a moment of reprieve in this absolute weapon – Frazer opens up into a dubwise oasis before skittering back into the darkness.

Syren Song is exactly what it says on the tin, alluring Dancehall vocals chatter and roll. Who knew auto-tune and Garage paired so well… Frazer did that’s who.

No Reasons Left is an ethereal closer for the end of the night / start of the morning after. Gliding warm & introspective dubwise breaks with a Reese bassline that hangs in the space between garage and hardcore.

Frazer says…

“This EP feels like I've finally nailed integrating my modular setup (and VCV rack for all you nerds out there) into my productions. I wanted to create deeper production while still ensuring the tracks translate well in the club.”

If this is only the beginning then strap in.

“I like to work with a variety of instruments and set ups,” says Mark Van Hoen, sometimes known as Locust or Autocreation but here working under his own name on the excellent Plan For A Miracle, his first physical release of solo music since 2018’s Invisible Threads. ”Sometimes it’s literally in my studio, with all the hardware electronics available. Sometimes the laptop, using software instruments. Some of the tracks on this record were recorded in the desert (Joshua Tree) using a 4-track tape machine and small modular synthesiser set up. Each track was recorded in different location using different instruments, which accounts for the distinction between each piece. It’s also about my own reaction to my environment, and what’s going on in my life at the time.”

The Croydon-born Van Hoen started musical life in the early 1990s, signing for R&S records in 1993 but developing his own, myriad and distinctive style across a range of releases on Touch, Editions Mego and other labels, using a battery of instruments, including analogue synthesizers and taking a number of different approaches to recording, rather than ploughing a single sonic furrow. He has worked on a number of collaborations, including with Nick Holton and Neil Halstead of Slowdive, under the moniker of Black Hearted Brother - their Stars Are Our Home was released in 2013. “I have known Neil Halstead since 1992,” says Van Hoen. “He shared a house with me for a couple of years, and the music I was making and listening to along with clubs I was attending had an influence particularly on Pygmalion, the final Slowdive album on Creation.”

Each track on Plan For A Miracle does indeed sound like a world unto itself, a mini-environment, a weather condition, an ecosystem created for the moment. It’s a collection of tracks recorded over the past few years, released on Bandcamp - despite his apparent absence, Van Hoen works constantly. Opener “Climates”, in its exquisite limpidity, feels like a homage to Brian Eno, one of his most formative influences in his teen years, commencing with Music For Films, which he bought in 1979. “This Is For Them”, feels like a ghostlike throwback to early drum & bass or electronica, reminiscent of his own, earliest outings. “There have been a number of requests from labels to make some more music like my very early releases on R&S,” says Van Hoen. “This is part of ‘letting go’ and realising that there’s nothing less creative about going back to those styles again.”

“Pencil Of Spheres” is something else again, a magnificent, imaginary glass structure, shimmering, refracting, without visible means of suspension, a thing of impossible beauty. “Electric Lights” evokes an abandoned fairground, its lights still pulsating, its music lingering. “The Underpass”, meanwhile, insofar as it reminds of anything at all, is faintly reminiscent of Cluster or Neu’s! West German ambience, the urban mundane rendered magical, the sodium lights, the whitewashed walls. The reverberant, faintly oriental chimes of “Insight” transport us yet again, burgeoning and intensifying.

The landscapes, the skyscapes rendered on Plan For A Miracle feel unpopulated as a rule - but when he does introduce vocal elements, Van Hoen has a history of doing so to spectacular effect - think of “Real Love” from 1998’s Playing With Time, the seductive intonation of its title recurring throughout like a series of massive holograms, echoing, stuttering, breaking up, surging. Here, there are just the faintest of vocals, barely distinct, disquieting. “There’s been a bit of a game changer in recent times,” explains Van Hoen. “AI software that enables you to extract vocals and instrument parts from virtually any recording. That means sampling individual parts from existing sources is no longer limited to the original mix exposing certain parts soloed. The vocal parts I use are from multiple sources and often pitch shifted altered rhythmically and melodically.“ There’s further vocal chatter on “I Really Do”, proceeding at a faster pace as if giving chase, or being pursued - distant, enigmatic. “The Music”, meanwhile, its beat tolling, lost in its own fog of static, features a curious intonation, like the ghost of a lost Walker Brother.

Sadly, the album’s title is in reference to a personal tragedy on Van Hoen’s part - the loss of his wife. Titles such as “I Won’t Give Up”, which faintly reminds of another Eno masterpiece, Another Green World, in its nautical hurly-bury, or the pastoral strains of “Mrs Who”, heavily clouded with sadness, seem to allude to this. “In fact the record was recorded entirely before she passed away,” says Van Hoen, “most of it before she even became very ill. The title was given to the album when it started to look like she wasn’t going to make it beyond a few months. It was something Osho said - “plan for a miracle” - so it was a statement of hope. Unfortunately it was not to be.” Although the album is non-thematic, non-specific in its atmospheres, sound paintings, elegant structures it most certainly stands as a magnificent monument to Osho’s memory.

-David Stubbs.

Come Over Reshapes works because it never tries to smooth JdB's debut into something safe. It features seven artists from LA and the Midwest all taking his source material somewhere different as brooding, minimal jungle rubs up against dubbed-out weight and drifting psychedelic ambient. Despite the variety, the whole thing plays like a continuous narrative rather than a scattered remix comp. Some cuts are clearly built for the floor, others for the comedown room, and the sequencing respects both. Steffan Betke's mastering keeps everything sounding cohesive and like a thoughtful tribute record that expands on the original rather than just repackaging it.

Bonobo alias Simon Green returns with "Distance In Static", his new album, which will be released on September 11, 2026, by Ninja Tune.

On "Distance In Static", Bonobo collaborates with a characteristically impressive lineup of artists, including Arooj Aftab, Joy Crookes, Nilüfer Yanya, Ichiko Aoba, Nicole Miglis (Hundred Waters), and Aanya Martin. The lyrics are written in English, Urdu, and Japanese, while historical Iranian samples and guzheng recordings stand alongside Bonobo's carefully crafted instrumental sounds. These were created during recording sessions in Los Angeles, Tokyo, London, and beyond: a significant part of the album was completed at Neil Young's legendary Broken Arrow Ranch in California, where he had retreated for several weeks earlier this year.

The album's title - "Distance In Static" - aptly describes Bonobo's current situation: it evokes images of distorted transmissions and fleeting frequencies, memory fragments and glimmers of meaning that echo through more than two decades at the forefront of electronic music. He sees the traces of his work reflected in a younger generation rediscovering trip-hop, downtempo, and experimental electronic music of the 1990s from a contemporary perspective. "I think the beginning of my work is relevant to younger people today," he says. "I liked the idea of listening for a distant signal - finding something in the noise," he continues. The entire album conveys the feeling of a search for transcendence: music that hovers between intimacy and vastness, the familiar and the unknown.

Within the universe of "Distance In Static", there is also a sense that this album marks something truly monumental. It is a moment of transition, a celebration of Bonobo's 25th anniversary, but perhaps also his last album in the traditional sense: with numerous guest contributions and a multi-year world tour with a full live band.

Whatever comes next, one thing is certain: "Distance In Static" is arguably Bonobo's best album to date; as ambitious and forward-thinking as ever and a reminder of why he has influenced so many people so strongly for so long.