Search:jus wan

Melanie Baker komponiert Musik über alles, was schmerzt, und alles, was sich gut anfühlt. Sie lebt in Newcastle (Großbritannien) und schreibt mit unerschütterlicher Ehrlichkeit - Songs, die zwischen lauter Katharsis und leisen Geständnissen, zwischen absurdem Humor und tiefer Verletzlichkeit schwanken. Mit hämmernden Trommeln, verzerrten Gitarren und zarter lyrischer Präzision greift Baker den Mut und den Geist des Alternative Rock der 90er Jahre durch eine queere, moderne Linse wieder auf.

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

DOODSESKADER clearly haven’t had enough of redefining boundaries – they’ve only just gotten started. Tim De Gieter and Sigfried Burroughs return on April 3rd, 2026 with their third full-length album, The Change Is Me, a rollercoaster that can only be described as the unstable lovechild between witch house, hip-hop, industrial dream pop, and stadium rock that can’t decide if it wants to watch the world burn or shout from the rooftops that we need to save it. Their combination of grungy 90s melodies with distorted synths, sludgy bass, hard tuned vocals, rapping, singing, and explosions of undiluted rage at the current state of the world leave you wondering just exactly what it was you smoked last night, and if it was too much or not enough. The Change Is Me is an album that grabs you by the arm and asks if you’re ready to go on a grand adventure, then pulls you into its chaos before you can say “yes” or “no.”

Tim and Sigfried aren’t just breaking the boundaries between genres; they’re breaking out of their own Year cycle, a path they had laid out for themselves at the band’s inception in 2020. Up until now, the duo had set out to document their “journey to getting better” through writing one album each year: Year Zero (2020), Year One (2022), and most recently Year Two (2024). After spending eight months throughout 2024 and 2025 writing, recording, producing and mixing Year Three, the band scrapped the finished record entirely. Playing shows while simultaneously navigating the process of mixing Year Three created a sort of disconnect – the people that they were when they wrote that record and the people that playing shows made them become were no longer one and the same. “We’re people with faults and strengths, and we realized we needed to accept it. That’s equal parts bleak and liberating. If you’re so focused on self-improvement, you can’t even applaud yourself for how far you’ve come,” the band explains. “This project is meant to be a document of us and of the human condition, not a self-improvement handbook designed to keep us all stuck on what may or may not have happened to us or because of us in the past.”

DOODSESKADER chose instead to embark anew on a week-long creative journey in Tim’s own Much Luv Studio with one goal in mind: to make an album that captures who they are right now. Finally writing everything together in the same room for the first time in years, the process of bringing "The Change Is Me" to life was captured by Diana Lungu in their latest documentary, "Now I Know You See Me", out December 2nd, 2025.

"The Change Is Me" marks the beginning of DOODSESKADER’s shift into a more positive era, both musically and conceptually. Over the course of the 40-minute record we hear the two friends unite in a fight against a world that grows more and more disappointing, a concept made crystal clear in tracks like “Celebrity Culture Simp Farm,” “It Keeps On Stinging,” and of course the album’s epic closer “Suffering In Technicolor.” While their previous albums saw them trying to outrun their pasts and arrive at a better version of themselves, here the search for some external or internal revelation that will “make them better” is no more. It’s been replaced by the realization that change isn’t something we force: it’s gradual, and more importantly, it’s something that’s already there – we just need to reach out and accept it.

The band’s live appearances over the last several years have been instrumental in shaping their ideology. On stage is where the duo find connection; not only with the audience, but also with each other. Their sold-out release shows at Ancienne Belgique (2022) and VierNulVier (2024) have proven that they are one of Belgium’s must-see acts. Abroad, their energy has translated into a month-long EU/UK tour with French band Alcest in 2024, as well as appearances at festivals such as Roadburn Festival (NL), Eurosonic (NL), Hellfest (FR), Mystic Fest (PL), Jera On Air (NL), ArcTanGent (UK), Fluff Fest (CZ) and more.

"The Change Is Me" is out April 3rd, 2026 on DOODSESKADER’s own label, 45 Records.

Scorsese Sounds - A Tribute To Martin Scorsese - The Finest Selection of Martin Scorsese"s Soundtracks Martin Scorsese ist nicht nur ein Meister des Films, sondern auch ein Virtuose der Musikauswahl. Mit "Scorsese Sounds" erleben Sie die unverwechselbare Klangwelt seiner größten Werke - von epischen Gangster-Sagas bis hin zu psychologischen Dramen und zeitlosen Klassikern. Diese exklusive Doppel-Vinyl vereint die Essenz der Soundtracks, die Scorseses Filme zu Kult gemacht haben. Jeder Track ist sorgfältig ausgewählt, um die Atmosphäre und Emotionen der legendären Szenen einzufangen - von der rauen Energie des New Yorker Untergrunds bis zur eleganten Nostalgie vergangener Zeiten. Ein Muss für Cineasten, Vinyl-Liebhaber und alle, die die Magie von Bild und Ton schätzen. Tauchen Sie ein in die musikalische DNA eines der größten Regisseure unserer Zeit.

John Andrews has spent the past few years tucked away in Red Hook, Brooklyn - a neighborhood that sits just beyond the natural drift of the city. Once shaped by maritime industry and later a haven for artists in search of vast warehouse space, its history and isolation give it a quiet magnetism. Streetsweeper, the fifth album by John Andrews & The Yawns, reflects that vantage point-tranquil, self-contained, and curious about the movements most people overlook.
Just a few cobblestone blocks from the freight-ship-lined harbor, Andrews wrote dozens of new songs at his electric piano. Nine of them found their way to Los Angeles to be recorded with Luke Temple, who played guitar and some bass. Drummer Noah Bond and bassist Kevin Louis Lareau, both longtime members of The Yawns and Cut Worms, form the rhythm section. Will Henriksen of Florry played fiddle on “Something To Be Said,” while Emily Moales of Star Moles sang harmonies recorded remotely by Kevin Basko at Historic New Jersey.
Red Hook may not be the easiest neighborhood to reach, but that distance gives it a singular glow-one Andrews sneaks into every note of Streetsweeper. The Super 8 video for “Something To Be Said,” shot by Hilla Eden, wanders through its streets like a hazy love letter. The album offers a similar invitation: step off the main road, linger a little, and notice the small, overlooked moments that make a place-and a life-rich. Andrews has swept those margins with care, leaving songs that listen, observe, and stay with you.

John Andrews has spent the past few years tucked away in Red Hook, Brooklyn - a neighborhood that sits just beyond the natural drift of the city. Once shaped by maritime industry and later a haven for artists in search of vast warehouse space, its history and isolation give it a quiet magnetism. Streetsweeper, the fifth album by John Andrews & The Yawns, reflects that vantage point-tranquil, self-contained, and curious about the movements most people overlook.
Just a few cobblestone blocks from the freight-ship-lined harbor, Andrews wrote dozens of new songs at his electric piano. Nine of them found their way to Los Angeles to be recorded with Luke Temple, who played guitar and some bass. Drummer Noah Bond and bassist Kevin Louis Lareau, both longtime members of The Yawns and Cut Worms, form the rhythm section. Will Henriksen of Florry played fiddle on “Something To Be Said,” while Emily Moales of Star Moles sang harmonies recorded remotely by Kevin Basko at Historic New Jersey.
Red Hook may not be the easiest neighborhood to reach, but that distance gives it a singular glow-one Andrews sneaks into every note of Streetsweeper. The Super 8 video for “Something To Be Said,” shot by Hilla Eden, wanders through its streets like a hazy love letter. The album offers a similar invitation: step off the main road, linger a little, and notice the small, overlooked moments that make a place-and a life-rich. Andrews has swept those margins with care, leaving songs that listen, observe, and stay with you.

Real Bad Man and YUNGMORPHEUS are excited to announce their new album The Chalice & The Blade is out now. The album features Boldy James, Kool Keith, Grip, Blu, Fatboi Sharif, and more.

YUNGMORPHEUS is a highly innovative rapper that consistently endeavors to redefine the boundaries of originality and elevate the art of lyricism. Earlier this year, YUNGMORPHEUS dropped his critically acclaimed album “From Whence It Came” which received praise from The FADER, NPR, SPIN, and was hailed by QUIP Mag as “Everything you need from a hip-hop record.”

Since 2020, Prolific LA-based producer and designer Adam Weissman (Real Bad Man) has been on a sensational run releasing albums with Boldy James, Smoke DZA, and Pink Siifu. The Chalice & The Blade will be Real Bad Man’s third album of the year following his remarkable collaborations with Blu (“Bad News”) and Kool Keith (“Serpent”).

The Chalice & The Blade showcases a unique ambiance marked by a stoney and atmospheric quality, interspersed with elements of funk. Real Bad Man explains the album making process, "I always tailor the music to the artist I’m collaborating with. I sent Morpheus a bunch of beats that he’d sound good over and once he started picking them, that set the path. We’d record and I’d make more beats, and move stuff around, get rid of some songs and record new ones. It was a good process. I like being able to adjust as we go, I think that makes for a good album. We left some songs on the cutting room floor. Cream rises."

YUNGMORPHEUS discussing the new album, “‘The Chalice & The Blade’ is an album primarily rooted in dichotomies; contemplation of action vs action itself, inner locus vs outer locus, pursuit for self vs pursuit for others. Honesty is always the centerpiece. Play if you want cause I’m not!”

On The Chalice & The Blade, the seamless synergy between Real Bad Man and YUNGMORPHEUS takes center stage, showcasing an extraordinary chemistry that elevates every track to new heights of musical innovation.

Chris Acker’s latest collection of songs, Famous Lunch, is in his words, a “growing pains album.” When writing the record, the New Orleans' based folk musician found himself hunting for a voice that wasn’t just an imitation of the one he’d been using on the last 30 songs he’d made. “At the same time, I worked hard to find a certain voice for myself over the previous 3 records and I didn’t want to abandon that.”

While the album finds him continuing to transcribe life’s fleeting and provocative banalities with refreshing grace, the songs on Famous Lunch are intentionally more absurd, stylizing his lyricism as both poetic and disarming simultaneously— commencing with “Sh*t Surprise”—an earworm with a vernacular that stays true to its title. Inspired by George Saunders and Sasha Pearl (and wanting to make a song that sounds like Eagles saying the word “sh*t” over and over), “Sh*t Surprise” is the most Chris Acker song possible, in that its earnestness arrives in spades and comes varnished with a one-of-a-kind, spectacular gnarliness. “We’d match our breath in the upstairs room and we’d hold together ‘til I smelled like you,” Acker sings, before nose-diving into that unforgettable chorus about stepping in a smelly, disgusting pile of sh*t.

More than anything else, Famous Lunch finds Chris Acker at his most sentimental and grateful, as he sings about Bunn coffee machines, gas pumps smelling like “the underside of a fingernail” in August, “10-inching” bread, stealing country club lawn-mower motors, father-son fables, impatient buffet lines, and a broom that “hasn’t been used since the last time I used it.” Acker’s eye for detail remains, and his lexicon includes phrasings that spin out like a hypnotic wash cycle. Seeing the world through his eyes, language remains something worth falling into—growing pains and all.

In den letzten fünf Jahren hat sich Joe Westerlund intensiv mit der Clave beschäftigt, dem metrischen Muster, das zunächst die afro-kubanische und lateinamerikanische Musik geprägt hat und dann in fast alle Bereiche des Jazz und Rock Einzug gehalten hat. Was bedeutete es, dass eine Idee so flexibel war, dass sie so viele Formen annehmen konnte und dabei doch ihre eigene Essenz behielt? Das Ergebnis ist für Westerlund ein Sprung ins Unbekannte: Curiosities from the Shift, ein 12-Track-Spielplatz mit endlos verwobenen Beats und Melodien, auf dem Westerlunds Begeisterung für die Clave auf seinen experimentellen Umgang mit Texturen trifft und seine rhythmische Symphonie mit Freunden Hand in Hand geht, die diesen Raum gemeinsam mit ihm gestalten. Die dreiteilige Suite, die die erste Hälfte von Curiosities ausmacht, beginnt mit den Schrottplatz-Percussions und den entzückenden Bass-Splashes, die ,Tem" umrahmen, und endet mit dem surrealistischen Boom-Bap von Daumenklavieren und Shakers auf ,Can Tangle". Diese Stücke strahlen eine hart erkämpfte Freude aus, als würde Westerlund sich in Echtzeit daran erfreuen, eine potenzielle Sackgasse zu entdecken, aber trotzdem seinen eigenen Weg nach vorne zu finden. Diese Songs wurden zu einer Art Arbeitsplan für das Terrain, das Westerlund auf Curiosities erkundet, vom glorreichen Call-and-Response-Opener ,Nu Male Uno" bis zum unheimlich amorphen Schlussstück ,Felt Like Floating". Alle diese Songs zeichnen sich durch einen erkennbaren Rhythmus aus, wie den galoppierenden Gang in der Mitte von ,Midpoint" und den kopfnickenden Puls, der sich durch ,Persurverance" schlängelt, dessen Name augenzwinkernd falsch geschrieben ist, um seiner Aussprache aus North Carolina via Wisconsin zu entsprechen. Aber das sind nur Sprungbretter für andere Texturen, Stimmungen und Ideen, wie die New-Age-Anklänge - schimmernde Metallophone, zwitschernde Vögel, zurückhaltende Flöten -, die ,Midpoint" durchziehen, oder die Dub-artigen Delays und Gamelan-Hymnen, die ,Persurverance" durchziehen. Dies ist zutiefst vielschichtige Musik, deren treibender Kern durch eine Reihe überraschender Entscheidungen ausgeglichen wird. Bittersüße und Freude, Trauer und Befreiung, Seufzer und Lächeln: All das ist hier vorhanden und verflechten sich bis ins Unendliche. In den Monaten nach den ersten Sessions wandte sich Westerlund an Freunde - darunter Tim Rutilli von Califone, den Saxophonisten Sam Gendel, den Trompeter Trever Hagen und die Violinisten Libby Rodenbough und Chris Jusell. Es waren seine am gründlichsten komponierten und präzisesten Werke, aber er wollte hören, was passierte, wenn seine Freunde in Echtzeit darauf reagierten. Sie lieferten Anmut, Tiefe und Gefühl, wobei ihre Parts den Vorhang zu verborgenen Winkeln rhythmischer Welten öffneten. Westerlund gibt bereitwillig zu, dass er von der Betonung des Grooves und des Metrums des Albums überrascht ist, die sich von abstrakten Klängen abhebt. Nachdem er so lange mit Bands gelebt und gearbeitet hatte, ging er davon aus, dass er mit grundlegenden Metren fertig war. Diese 12 Songs verschmelzen so viele von Westerlunds Leidenschaften zu endlos faszinierenden Stücken, die mit vertrauten Elementen seine Abenteuer ins Unbekannte übertragen. Verspielt, aber zart, wehmütig, aber wundersam, von Beats angetrieben, aber nicht an sie gebunden - dies ist Westerlunds bisheriges Vermächtnis, das Soloalbum, das einen Blick auf eine musikalische und emotionale Landschaft eröffnet, die vielleicht sogar noch reichhaltiger ist, als er es sich jemals hätte vorstellen können.

Nach dem "makellosen und zeitlosen Soul" (The Guardian) des 2019er-Vorgängers "American Love Call" öffnet "Private Space" von Durand Jones & The Indications die Tür zu einer breiteren Palette von Klängen und führt die Band kühn in eine synthielastigere Soul-Welt aus mit Streichern durchsetzten Disco-Beats. Das harmonische Zusammenspiel zwischen Aaron Frazers sanftem Falsett am Schlagzeug und Durand Jones' kräftigem Gesang sitzt noch immer tadellos und wird von Blake Rhein (Gitarre), Steve Okonski (Tasten) und Mike Montgomery (Bass) perfekt abgerundet. The Indications bleiben auch auf ihrem dritten Album wahre Meister darin, Revival-Sounds mit einer modernen Haltung zu verschmelzen. "Private Space" atmet den Geist der vergangenen Disco-Ära und die zehn Tracks liefern so eine dringend benötigte Dosis Eskapismus nach diesem turbulenten Jahr 2020. Das Album entstand nachdem die Band einen Großteil des Jahres getrennt voneinander verbracht hatte. Die Freude des Wiedersehens und am kreativen Miteinander ist auf "Private Space" jederzeit spürbar. Der hoffnungsvolle Sound setzt auf die Idee, dass Freude uns befreien kann. Die Kraft eines guten Songs, ein Licht in der Dunkelheit zu sein. Bandleader DURAND JONES fasst es treffend zusammen: "At the end of the day, I just want people to close their eyes and forget where they are. Just the way a Stevie Wonder album does for me."

Als Justin Morris 2019 nach einem Leben in North Carolina nach New York City zog, hatte er vor, das Gegenteil von dem zu machen, wofür die Leute normalerweise in die Stadt ziehen: seinen Traum aufzugeben. Seit seiner Kindheit war dieser Traum einfach: Songs schreiben, in Bands spielen, im ,Indie-Rock" leben. Aber als er für einen der größten Indie-Stars der Zeit Merchandise verkaufte, geriet diese Überzeugung ins Wanken. Von seinem Platz im Bus aus betrachtet, schien der Alltag auf Tournee nicht zu den faszinierenden Shows zu passen; Zugaben wichen einer Arbeitsrealität, die ihm die berufliche Seite von etwas zeigte, das er immer nur romantisiert hatte, und ihn fragen ließ, wo der Glanz geblieben war. Für seine naive Weltanschauung war die Kluft zwischen der Fantasie, ,es zu schaffen", und der Realität erschütternd. Wenn das ,der Traum" war, dachte er, musste er vielleicht überdacht werden. New York sollte ein Neuanfang sein, vielleicht sogar der Ort, an dem er einen anderen Beruf erlernen und die Musik hinter sich lassen würde. Doch weniger als einen Tag nach seinem Einzug in die Untermiete in Bushwick trat ein Mann mit einer Waffe seine Schlafzimmertür ein, zwang ihn auf den Boden und fesselte seine Hände mit Fernsehkabeln. In den Tagen nach dem Raubüberfall, in denen er nur noch durch Songs einen Sinn in den Dingen erkennen konnte, begann er wieder zu schreiben. Diese Songs wurden zum Beginn eines neuen Projekts, das er Sluice nannte. Sluice ist jetzt eine vierköpfige Band aus Durham, North Carolina - mit Morris an der Gitarre und am Gesang, Oliver Child-Lanning am Bass und verschiedenen Instrumenten, Avery Sullivan am Schlagzeug und Libby Rodenbough an der Geige - mit Companion, ihrem dritten Album und Debüt bei Mtn Laurel Recording Co. Es folgt auf Radial Gate aus dem Jahr 2023, das still geliebte Album, das Morris aufgenommen hatte, nachdem er aus New York geflohen war und sich mit dem damals noch unbekannten Child-Lanning in einem Haus in Hillsborough niedergelassen hatte, das er über Craigslist gefunden hatte. Dort nahm er Songs im Sylvan Essos Studio Bettys auf, während er als Zimmermann arbeitete. ,Companion" ist ein Album über das Dating, über das Verlieben zu den weitläufigen Refrains von Kenny Chesney und Alan Jackson. Der ,Begleiter" ändert seine Form: Manchmal hat er einen Namen (Sara, Bluey, Of Doe Eyes), manchmal ist er ein Hund, der morgens aus der Tür schlüpft, manchmal ist es Morris selbst, der sein Spiegelbild im Badezimmerspiegel sieht und murmelt: ,Junge, ich liebe dich." Manchmal sind es die Tischler, die Stadtbewohner, die Bandkollegen, die alten Tourkollegen, die wieder in sein Leben treten. In seinem sachlichen, ironiefreien lyrischen Stil, den Pitchfork einmal als ,eine Umerziehung in Aufrichtigkeit" beschrieb, wirken diese Menschen real, weil sie es sind. Und immer in greifbarer Nähe ist die Musik selbst, die Begleiterin, die fast verloren gegangen wäre.

The track shows SUEP at their best - glistening synth pop with Marr-esque jangle, sweet but emotionally incisive. Singer Georgie Stott - also known for being the keyboardist of the recently ended Porridge Radio - is at peak performance, marrying catchy melodies with off-kilter storytelling.
Receiving acclaim across BBC 6 Music and the indie press for their ‘car boot sale’ pop music, SUEP rummage through the jumble bin of music history, selecting and reassembling its best parts into something playful, strange and deeply artful. The band are affiliates of the Gob Nation collective - including The Tubs, Sniffany & The Nits, Ex-Void, and others., described by the Guardian as uniting around “a leftfield sensibility, lacerating wit and snotty attitude.”

With a slightly darker edge than their delightful EP Shop or last year’s groovy The Rain, Highway II tells the story of hope slamming into disappointment - a Valentine’s date gone wrong. Tears, cigarette breaks, running makeup and snotty sleeves paint a picture of painful emotional dislocation. It comes with an incredible, multilayered dance-routine music video from frequent collaborator, artist Jess Power.

Singer Georgie Stott says: “The lyrics for this poured out of me on Valentine’s Day when me and my partner went out on a date in the Limehouse area, over the river from where we lived in Rotherhithe. I got drunk too quickly, he got grumpy, and tears started streaming down my face because I just wanted to have a nice romantic time. We made up in the Canary Wharf Wetherspoons at the end of the night, but I went to have a cigarette before, to get out all my sobs and wrote all the lyrics on my phone in one go. Then at a practice studio we quickly wrote it around some chords I made up in the room.”
Forever is a confident debut, a masterpiece of modern indie songcraft. Across the album SUEP dip into country, synthpop, garage rock, post punk, and pub rock, but always retain their signature penchant for melodic hooks, snappy structures and straight-to-the-heart lyrics. Artfully unpretentious, the album was recorded by friend Matt Green, best known for his work with The Tubs, and mixed by Mike O’Malley of the band caroline.

Led by Georgie Stott and Joshua Harvey, SUEP have become fixtures of south-east London’s underground through a series of shared living spaces, improvised studios and DIY venues. Now with George Nicholls (The Tubs, Joanna Gruesome, GN Band), William Deacon (PC World), and Louis Forster (The Goon Sax, Expiry) completing the line up, their debut is finally on its way.
Forever is a glimpse into one of the best bands on the scene, not fitting into any trend, but also never fading into obscurantism - SUEP are a band that wear a joie de vivre loosely but fashionably. Now is their time to shine.

Analog Fingerprints Vol. 0 is a compilation bringing together the early 2000s works of Marco Passarani under his Analog Fingerprints alias, collecting key tracks originally released on Rome’s Plasmek and Pigna labels.

For Numbers, the story starts long before the label itself. In their formative years, digging in Glasgow’s Rubadub, Passarani’s records felt like dispatches from a future city. Releases on his own Nature Records and on labels such as Generator and Interr-Ference Communications were mind blowing: rooted in Detroit techno, Chicago house and electro, yet pushing somewhere new. Much like fellow travellers Autechre, who would remix him in 2001, Passarani’s music balanced machine funk with restless experimentation.

Information was scarce, and you would hear these records first on the dancefloor or at listening stations in shops like Rubadub. Print fanzines like Ear and early web outposts such as Forcefield offered only fragments. But there was a palpable axis forming between Detroit techno and a new European wave of record labels including Skam, Rephlex, Clone, Viewlexx and Nature itself. It was the sound that defined Saturday nights at Rubadub’s ‘69’ parties in Paisley, just outside of Glasgow.

Passarani’s records, in particular, were instrumental in bringing together the future Numbers co-founders. Richard had already booked him pre-Numbers; meanwhile Calum (Spencer) and Jack (Jackmaster), then 16/17 year olds working alternate Saturdays in Rubadub, were so enamoured with the Roman sound that they travelled to Rome for the Bitz Festival in 2003 to seek out Passarani and Lory D at their source.

The first Analog Fingerprints release landed as a 12” on Plasmek in 2001, following the fractured, IDM-leaning 6 Katun material. For Passarani, the project marked a recalibration. A DJ first and foremost, he had moved into production via early computer setups, from a Commodore Amiga through primitive PC audio, Cubase and Logic, later experimenting with Ableton. The IDM scene had offered a playground for trial and error, but there was always a tension between abstraction and the dancefloor. Analog Fingerprints became the bridge: still intelligent, but with more dance than distance. After years of broken beats and complex arrangements, he wanted directness without surrendering identity.

Working closely with Francesco de Bellis and Mario Pierro in the Pigneto district, the trio formed Pigna as a vehicle for reclaiming a more accessible dance sound, deliberately steering away from the minimal wave beginning to dominate Europe. Sessions were fast, instinctive, often stretching late into the night with friends dropping by. It was a studio as social space, production as collective energy.

“In that constant search for balance, Analog Fingerprints was my way of expressing something closer to the classic dance floor. The track 'Tribute' - a tribute to my favourite early Detroit techno track of all time, 'First Bass' by Separate Minds - came after I realised I had almost lost my connection with the dance floor. The simplest step was to take inspiration from early Chicago and Detroit and twist it in our Roman ‘Pigna’ way. My goal was to create more accessible dancefloor tracks by mixing my unconscious Italo roots with my teenage love for that early US sound, ensuring the result was as far as possible from the minimal sound that was starting to dominate everywhere.” - Marco Passarani

Technically, the Analog Fingerprints tracks span a transitional era: Roland TR-909, SH-101 and Alpha Juno hardware met early software experiments. A Novation Drumstation rack stood in for the unattainable TR-808, syncing with TB-303 and TR-606. Yet the true secret weapon was Jeskola Buzz, a tracker-style modular environment that allowed step-by-step parameter control and strange melodic constructions, later exported into the audio sequencer. Even the lead on ‘Tribute’ came from an early PPG Wave-style plugin. It was hybrid thinking at a moment when digital tools still felt unstable but full of possibility for technologists like Passarani.

Behind the music sat Finalfrontier, a loose Roman collective orbiting Nature and Plasmek. Distribution and production were intertwined; importing obscure records into Italy built connections with like-minded outsiders across Europe and the US. Expensive phone bills and fax machines forged an “electronix network” that linked Rome to Clone, Viewlexx, Skam, Rephlex, Rubadub and Detroit’s Underground Resistance. There was a shared sense of survival and resistance, of operating against commercial systems.

Passarani recalls “The first time I found a sheet of paper inside an Underground Resistance 12” with info about upcoming releases... and a huge picture of Spock on the back. Imagine that: you love the music, you love Star Trek, and there’s someone on the other side of the ocean sharing those same values and sounds. It was the perfect match. We even gave our original company the suffix ‘Finalfrontier’: that says it all.”

Feedback in that era arrived physically: distributor faxes, conversations with visiting DJs, the experience of playing abroad and meeting kids who had connected with the records. Glasgow became a key node in a scattered outlier network. Passarani personally brought the first two Nature releases to Fat Cat in London, playing them in-store. Shortly after, a fax arrived from Rubadub in Glasgow requesting copies.

“I still remember that phone buzz and the fax paper slowly sliding out, with someone I didn’t know saying they wanted 75 copies of Nature 001. Or like the time we got a fax from the Rephlex crew just saying, “Hello Nature Records, Keep up the good work.” That was how we knew the message was getting through. It was a fantastic feeling; just one piece of thermal fax paper as an analog notification - the mood for the entire week would change.” - Passarani

The connection to Glasgow has since stretched across generations. As Passarani reflects, links often fracture as scenes renew themselves, but in Glasgow something different happened. New and old mixed seamlessly. There was a visible trust in what came before, and a willingness to carry it forward rather than discard it. Observed from Rome, it was deeply encouraging.

Analog Fingerprints Vol. 0 captures that moment of exchange: Rome to Glasgow, Detroit to Europe, experiment to dancefloor. It documents an artist recalibrating his sound and a network of scenes discovering one another in real time, connected by vinyl, faxes and shared intent.

Some tracks have a lot of history to them. Some are just one of life's mysteries.

TEDI seems to have been a work in progress with New York producers Greg Carmichael and Mitch Braithwaite.

The body of work being recorded during the late 1970's and early 1980's was a daily procedure with many people passing through. Over time Greg had no recollection of the recording and neither did his good friend Leroy Burgess. Sadly Mitch Braithwaite is no longer with us. But his music lives on with this boogie soul record with those stabbing piano keys , synth and reverbs. Topped with some growling vocals. The singer sounds familiar but I haven't a clue who it is? Tedi someone!!

As Nathan Fake rises from the nocturnal subterranea and rave catharsis of his previous records, on Evaporator, he resurfaces into the domain of daylight, bringing a tangible sense of air rushing against your face, of big skies, and endless landscapes. The idea of pop accessibility that trickled into 2023’s Crystal Vision is refracted here through the prism of sweeping ambient, deep electronica, and trance uplift. Evaporator is Fake’s idea of “airy daytime music”, with each track a different barometer reading across the album’s varying atmospheres, which range from vibrant sunbursts, bracing rainscapes, and fine mists of clement melodics. “It’s not overtly confrontational electronic club music,” states Fake. “It’s quite pleasant, it’s accessible. As I was progressing through making the tracklist, I called it a daytime album. It doesn’t feel like an afterparty album.” For the past decade Fake has been gingerly introducing collaborations with heroes and friends alike into his lone, idiosyncratic working process. Border Community alumni Dextro AKA Ewan Mackenzie transmutes his ferocious drumming for Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs into the blurred choral thump of ‘Baltasound’. ‘Orbiting Meadows’, meanwhile, is his second collaboration with Clark, an eerily idyllic duet where microtonal 18EDO piano clangs slowly twirl around wailing pads. Evaporator marks the junction point of old technology and ever fresh creativity for Nathan. The trusty “dinosaur” age software, particularly Cubase VST5, that has powered two decades of music is rarely updated. “I used to sort of feel a bit ashamed of using such old software, and then I kind of had an epiphany – that’s just how I work”, comments Fake. “That’s just how I play. I’m very fond of these old tools, and I get the most joy out of them, but now I’ve incorporated new technology too.” When an artist accumulates so much synergy with their instrument, music making becomes instinctual. By Fake’s account, much of Evaporator just fell into place. The album title arrived randomly in his head (“it felt completely perfect. Airy.”), ideas looped and developed until things locked into place and just felt right. ‘The Ice House’ is a fleeting glimpse of the sonic world he taps into in this creative state, its glassy FM synths built around a counterpoint between rough-hewn crystalline arpeggios and sparse yet gravitas-bearing bass. “That riff I just wrote out on the keyboard, I just played it forever and ever and ever. The original track ended up being really short. Here you go, and it’s gone!” These unplanned channellings of sound call forth records from Fake’s past while he looks ahead, perhaps getting at the very essence of his musicianship. The opener ‘Aiwa’ (“the breeziest,” he muses) reminds of the introspection that characterised Providence, excited by the fire and grit of Steam Days’ textural experiments, its chunky slams and clatters surging into a flood of harmonic buzzing as they reach out for old wisdom. ‘Hypercube’ stampedes in a similar chronological confluence, infusing an incessant synth line reminiscent of the golden age of rave with the crackling, ecstatic energy of modern festival anthems. Like the vaporisation of liquid to particles, everything that Evaporator presents has a mutant desire to be amorphous. Sounds rarely settle; the irradiated garage beat of ‘Bialystok’ is pitched downwards to driving, rebounding effect, while ‘You’ll Find a Way’ warps static into shivering energy, cinematic synth strings building anticipation into a gradual gush of chords. This translates into a more expansive stereo field than Fake has explored before. ‘Slow Yamaha’ saves the wildest, most kinetic transformations for last with a cornucopia of crispy melodies and fried drums; a sibilance of cymbals on the left, a susurrus of shakers on the right, and kaleidoscopic lasers pulsing and fizzing all around. Evaporation culminating in pure excited atoms. In a world where music has increasingly become background content, making albums remains lifeblood for Fake: “It makes me realise how long; twenty years is ages! It’s weird to see how much the world has changed. Release day back then you did fuck all, now you spend all day on socials. When I grew up the people who made the electronic music I was into were quite mysterious, and the artwork was very abstract. There was a massive distance between you and that music, and that was a key part of it, really. Now it helps to be an extrovert, and I'm just not, but the album marks the first time my face has graced the cover art. I’ve never wanted to do this before, I'm very shy, and generally I don’t like being seen,” he professes. “But, twenty years in, I supposed I could try something new. I'm very lucky that I'm somehow surviving in this world, where the media world favours extroverts and interesting looking people. It’s not my world but somehow I’m still in it.” Evaporator continues to prove Nathan’s necessary presence, with some of his most engaging, varied, and magical music yet.

Motown Records: The Supremes, Stevie Wonder, The Miracles, Marvin Gaye, Martha Reeves and The Vandelas and, of course, The Temptations. It is antithetical to mention any of those without the others. The community of artists started as the Sound of Young America, but as history has proven, it became the sound, the look and the inspiration of so much more. And now, little nuggets of Motown's influence can be found the world over. David Ruffin, founding member of Motown superstars The Temptations, went on to become a successful solo artist even after he left the group. In 1969, Ruffin released two fantastic solo records, My Whole World Ended and Feelin' Good. Between 1970 and 1971 he recorded what was to be his third long playing solo record. However, his career was suddenly put on hold when Motown, for reasons unclear, shelved the album that had been dubbed David. The record had even been assigned a catalog number and final artwork. Ruffin returned in 1973 with a brand new LP titled David Ruffin (treated officially as his third LP) and the previously recorded album David sat on the shelves, unheard for decades. This deluxe 2xLP set features the original, rare David LP, plus an LP of bonus tracks and mono single mixes all packaged in a beautiful gatefold jacket, featuring extensive liner notes and striking color photographs of Ruffin. His red and yellow suede suit featured in the interior gatefold LP jacket is an absolute must-see! The record was cut and pressed at Third Man's Detroit HQ, just a couple miles away from the original Motown HQ. For the first time ever on vinyl, Third Man is proud to present the essential, true third LP from the Temptations' mighty David Ruffin.

It's hard to fathom Martin Bramah's trajectory from his beginnings as a guitarist/writer behind two crazily influential postpunk albums - The Fall's Live At The Witch Trials and Blue Orchids' The Greatest Hit (Money Mountain) (vocalist on the latter too, of course) - then nearly three decades of sporadic-at-best activity, offering releases just frequently enough to remind fans of his peculiar brilliance . . . before another stay in the void. Chalk it up to what you want - Mark E. Smith's utter usurpation of The Fall, his split from partner Una Baines after Blue Orchids' debut, the vague collapse of rash experimentation in `underground' music as early `80s nu-pop and American college rock diluted any real spirit, a few failed attempts at working with with Mark again . . . and maybe just life getting in the way. A sense of lost opportunities isn't tough to justify. Inasmuch as Martin was originally the singer for The Fall - Mark began as guitarist but couldn't play! - and given that the group's mythology was born in an era before that gang of Mancunian misfits had even thought of playing, it's high irony that 49 years after The Fall began, Martin has both become wildly prolific and the leader of a band with more rights of inheritance to The Fall's credibility than any other living person could justify . . .yet the band isn't remarkable for that as it is for the range and wealth extent of their collective powers and talent: two great and original guitarists, three of the UK's most daringly-skilled drummers, a genuine bass legend, and a brilliant spare Blue Orchid guitarist. Four albums in, the HOUSE Of ALL is getting ambitious, with each album a subtle improvement on the last, forging a path away from their pasts without denying a thing. Inklings differs from the first three for not having being largely improvised at first, with sounds, rhythm, groove and melody later forged into songs. They rehearsed! They had fun doing it! They're going on an extended tour! There were even extra tracks! We'll leave it to fans and critics to sit down and analyse the specifics of it all, but Steve, Si, Pete, Phil, Karl and Martin have made a bold and powerful album unlike any other you'll hear in 2026 . . . stately, majestic, bold and worthy of a group of real survivors. In perverse form, the album will be officially announced and preceded by a song not on the album!

Igor Tamerlan is a stranger in his own land. Born in 1954 the Hague and spent most formative years in Paris, Igor suddenly had the urge to relocate to Bali in 1986. “I want to settle in Indonesia and marry a local girl,” he told his sister shortly before flying out.

His next journey would be as audacious as his time in the Fifth Republic. Born from a prominent Indonesian expatriate family in Paris with ties to Indonesia’s first prime minister Sutan Sjahrir, Igor earned a degree in architecture at Ecole nationale supe´rieure d’architecture de Paris-La Villette.

He could have been a brilliant architect or a political scientist (he was accepted to Sciences Po), but his passion for music distracted him from his academic works. He was after all named after Russian composer Igor Stravinsky.

During his brief stint at Sciences Po, Igor spent most of times hanging out at recording studios and rub shoulders with the likes of singer-songwriter Jean-Jacques Goldman and Michel Polnaref. He had a brief encounter with The Rolling Stones at the Cha^teau de Thoiry studio in the early 1970s.

But Igor’s musical education and his occidental eyes appeared to be ill-suited for Indonesia. His first record, titled Langkah Pertama (First Step) on the mainstream label Musica was met with a shrug and was a commercial dud. An experimental record blending the influence of Spanish motifs, Francophile production and a whiff of hip hop and ska was seen by critics as being too alien. His sarcasm-laden lyrics and his biting critique of excessive materialism among the upper tier of Indonesia’s nouveau riche in the album was met with confusion from the audience. He was just too far ahead of his time.

He left the label Musica – or may had been dropped – soon after Langkah Pertama and decided to go independent. He then relocated to Bali and set up a state-of-the-art recording studio in Sanur, across the street from Southeast Asia’s first boutique hotel where luminaries like Mick Jagger, David Bowie, Sting, Yoko Ono and Ringo Starr stayed for their holiday.

From the studio, Igor recording everything from the sounds waterfalls, geckos, minibuses to motorized rickshaw and mix them with hip hop, jazz, electronica, dub and Balinese gamelan. A visionary, Igor was the first musician to use MIDI, which started to be available globally in the early 1980s.

On paper, songs like “Bali Vanilli” should not work, a mish mash of disparate elements mentioned above, sung in three languages, Balinese, English and Bahasa Indonesia while tackling the subject of overtourism. The song was also the first to introduce rap to an unsuspecting audience. But for some strange reason “Bali Vanilli” became a sensation and overnight Igor became household name. And in 1987, long before overtourism was an issue, Igor broached the subject to a national audience in Indonesia on the possible destruction of nature and culture from tourism.

Ever an iconoclast, Igor decided to step out of the limelight following the success of “Bali Vanilli” and in early 1990s he relocated to Indonesia’s cultural capital, Yogyakarta. Here, he worked on some more experimental music while juggling as music video director. He passed away in 2018 at the age of 64.

The 10 songs in this compilation, Bali Vanilli: Experimental Pop from Paradise Island (1987-1991), are some of Igor’s best works, music that would have gone into obscurity had it not been for the diligent work of film director Alfred Pasifico Ginting, who managed to track down some of the master tapes while researching on a documentary on the musician.

These recordings have never before been released outside of Indonesia. Igor would have been proud with this reissue project.

The groove never skipped a beat. 10 years after Global Warming and 2 years after Breaking to the Bus Stop, Romain Dalmasso aka Lord Funk, remains an insatiable crate-digger driven by one thing: the dancefloor. With his 3rd LP, More Orgasms, he drops a record that literally bleeds club culture and raw funk.

This is a deeply organic album. Moving away from clinical productions, the french producer gathered a tribe of top-tier musiciansto bring a living, breathing soul to every track. It’s an in-depth study of groove where cutting-edge electronics meet organic warmth and human vibration.



The tracklist is a map of his musical heart: from the R&B anthem First Crush co-written with his partner-in-crime Guillaume Atlan (The Supermen Lovers) and ignited by Shahdo, to the sharp 80s-Blondie energy of Merryn Jeann. True to his hedonistic roots, the vinyl sleeve doubles as an adult board game. More Orgasms isn't just a release; it’s a tangible piece of club culture—a heavy, singular pressing for the diggers and the lovers who want music that has soul and sweat in its DNA.

Sun Wukong (The Monkey King) is a monkey born from a heavenly stone who acquires supernatural powers. After rebelling against heaven and being imprisoned under a mountain for 500 years, he later accompanies the monk Xuanzang on a journey to India. Thus, according to legend, Buddhism is brought to ancient China. This much beloved story, is as much a part of Asian culture as The Iliad and The Odyssey or The Wizard of Oz are to the West.

The 2014 action-fantasy film Monkey King - Havoc In Heaven's Place was directed by Soi Cheang, Starring Donnie Yen as the titular protagonist Sun Wukong. A Hong Kong-Chinese co-production, Yen also serves as the film's action director. The film co-stars Donald Chow, Aaron Kwok, Joe Chen and Peter Ho. The music was composed by Christopher Young.

Funfact; the drums on this soundtrack was done by none other than Dave Lombardo (ex- Slayer)

In China, The Monkey King was highly succesful and became only the third Chinese film to earn more than a billion yuan at the Chinese box office.

The soundtrack of Monkey King - Havoc In Heaven's Place is available for the first time on vinyl as a limited and numbered 2LP of 500 copies on gold vinyl, and includes an insert.