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Five years since his last solo outing, Pev makes a very welcome return on his own label for Livity Sound's 60th release.

Having focused on expanding the innovative scope of Livity through a prolific release schedule, frequent label nights and the 10th anniversary Molten Mirrors compilation, on the 'Pulse E.P.', Pev delivers on his reputation for inventive, sharply-focused club music with four lean, focused club tracks across the tempo range.

From the crooked formation and pointillist bleeps of ‘Pulse I’ through the light-footed percussion and airy melodies of ‘Pulse II’ to ‘Pulse III’s strafing techno synths and ‘Pulse IV’s surefooted, bass-loaded house jack, it’s an EP of variation and consistency in equal measure. From the infectious, alien melodic lines to the elegant angles of the drums, not to mention the weighty subs, it’s all strikingly fresh and unmistakably Pev.

Livity Sound is a label set up by Peverelist in 2011 as a vehicle for a raw and exploratory strain of UK techno, rooted in the heritage of UK dance music and sound system culture. It has since become one of the UK's foremost protagonists for cutting edge underground electronic music.

We’re still harvesting the fruits of those past days in seclusion, the cabin fever induced creative outbursts, ideas that would probably have never surfaced without these enforced trips to our inner minds. Lockdown transcendence.

“Don’t Cry” by Italo-Brazilian DJ producer Stephan Barnem and Futuristant is another impressive testament of those days. Secluded in Stephan’s studio in Northern Italy, the duo subconsciously conjured the spirits of one of their mutual favorite bands, Depeche Mode and created a fierce, boombappy Neo New Wave smasher contrived to send rays of hope into the darkest corners of this mad world. We had to add a gratuitous beatless version to the EP that amplifies the cinematic depth and healing potency of this song.

If “Don’t Cry” echoes the dark brooding euphoria of Depeche Mode’s “Music For The Masses” era, the flipside cut “Elysium” harks back to the synthwave happy days of their debut “Speak & Spell”. It’s a wonderfully careless track that’s bringing a dearly needed breeze of fresh air to today’s discerning dancefloors.

Boys don’t cry for me Argentina. Save your tears for another day.

Wir ernten immer noch die Früchte jener vergangenen Tage in Abgeschiedenheit, der vom Lagerkoller verursachten kreativen Ausbrüche, Ideen, die ohne diese erzwungenen Reisen in unser Inneres wahrscheinlich nie entstanden wären. Lockdown-Transzendenz.

„Don’t Cry“ des italo-brasilianischen DJ-Produzenten Stephan Barnem und Futuristant ist ein weiteres beeindruckendes Zeugnis jener Tage. In der Abgeschiedenheit von Stephans Studio in Norditalien, beschwor das Duo unbewusst die Geister einer ihrer gemeinsamen Lieblingsbands, Depeche Mode, herauf und schuf einen wilden, boombappigen Neo-New-Wave-Smasher, der Licht in die dunkelsten Ecken dieser verrückten Welt senden wird. Wir mussten der EP eine Beatless-Version von “Don’t Cry” hinzufügen, die die filmische Tiefe und heilende Kraft dieses Songs noch verstärkt.

Wenn „Don’t Cry“ die dunkle, grüblerische Euphorie von Depeche Modes „Music For The Masses“-Ära widerspiegelt, erinnert der Flipside-Cut „Elysium“ an die Happy Synthwave-Tage ihres Debüts „Speak & Spell“. Es ist ein wunderbar sorgloser Track, der den dringend benötigten frischen Wind auf die anspruchsvollen Tanzflächen von heute bringt.

Boys don’t cry for me Argentina. Save your tears for another day.

One of the main figures in Alabama’s music scene, Frederick Knight arrived at Stax in 1972 and hit with the country soul of "I've Been Lonely For So Long", making number 8 on the R&B chart, and the subsequent album was a real milestone in his career.

Prior to this he played a significant part as a producer/writer at Neil Hemphill's Sound of Birmingham Studios where the Stax album was cut. Later that decade Knight would again achieve commercial success with his own record label, Juana, and the recordings of The Controllers and, most notably, Anita Ward.

These early 70s tracks have never surfaced on vinyl before, both of which were also recorded in Birmingham. The plaintive ballad "You've Never Really Lived" with its subtle tempo will have you hooked from the off, while "How, When Or Where" is a mid-tempo opus that will please the dancers out there.

Two utterly fabulous tunes.

A deluxe edition as a 2 x LP on yellow vinyl, features bonus demos, b-sides and live session recordings. The Hidden Cameras burst onto the Toronto music scene in the early 2000"s boasting an irresistible combination of pop and queer sensibilities. Playing self-proclaimed "Gay Church Folk Music" a new genre of their own making and songs ranging from haunted, aching ballads to foot-stomping anthems, the band"s outrageous stage shows packed such disparate venues as sweaty dance bars, art museums, a working porn cinema as well as many churches. Fronted by lead singer-songwriter Joel Gibb, the ensemble continues its musical provocations to this day, with Berlin now as its centre of gravity. The Hidden Cameras had yet to release a note of commercially available music when, in early 2002, they became among the most discussed and celebrated unsigned bands in the history of their native Toronto. By the close of the year, they had been the subject of uncommonly sensational features in The Globe and Mail (Canada"s national newspaper) as well as in every daily and weekly in Toronto. The reasons for the reckless enthusiasm of these usually cautious journals was simple: revelatory live performances that attacked and transcended the staid, dispassionate traditions of rock nightclub culture; and the songs of band front-man and mastermind Joel Gibb, a talent of uncommon melodic and poetic gifts. "The Smell of Our Own", The Hidden Cameras debut album was originally released in April 2003 on Rough Trade to tremendous critical acclaim.

Brazilian experimental multi-instrumentalist Carla Boregas follows plates for Bokeh Versions and Hive Mind with a ghostly set of deep listening electronics that plays like a symphony for an imagined woodwind orchestra.

Carla Boregas is best known from her tenure in São Paulo's genre-bending experimental post-punk scene, playing in long-running outfit Rakta as well as other related offshoots. Her solo material has been knottier to unpick, here developing ideas from a collection of unfinished fragments and notebook scribbles exploring the possibility of finding a wind instrument that could be played collectively by several musicians. Coinciding with the pandemic, however, she soon realised the inherent risks involved with sharing breath and so the concept took a different direction, with added resonance.

Boregas developed a synthetic alternative, layering vocals and environmental recordings to suggest wind instrumentation without attempting to mimic it. The sounds here are airy, but rarely diegetic - on the title track, Boregas uses analog arpeggios and plucked, sustained tones to approximate the kosmische world of Ash Ra Tempel or more recently Emeralds, as if trapped in a wind tunnel, moved forward by an unseen force.

There's a whisper of the ancient past that harmonises with Wojciech Rusin's speculative medieval gasps, and Bloedneus & de Snuitkever's severely underheard ‘Milli Mille’, an examination of the ancient Greek aulos. On ’Grafia Do Invisível' the sound is completely different again, but the concept remains, using precise analog drones and minuscule timbral shifts to imitate the character of a wind instrument and simultaneously harmonise with the deep listening meditations of Éliane Radigue and Kali Malone.

A voice enters the frame on 'Sopro’, chopped into deviated gulps and syllables, creating a language that's unfamiliar and percussive. The use of breath is subtle, and vocalisations criss-cross between synths and faint whistles, forming an expression that's different from its predecessors but intrinsically interlinked. This is where ‘Pena Ao Mar’ excels, by viewing breath and its application in electronic music from multiple angles simultaneously. Fans of Lucy Duncombe, Lucrecia Dalt, or Sarah Davachi - don't miss this one.

The Bass Junkie sound spans the old school beats and vibes of the Electro genre’s origins, to the borderline industrial. Phil is a battle hardened Bass Bot from the future armed with his trusty MPC.

The obsession with all things sci-fi continues with this 'Cruising The Bass Nebula' EP. Out this February on my Asking for Trouble label, this is testament to his non-stop love of the genre and keeps on evolving with this funky 10".

Phil Klein aka Bass Junkie has been part of the Bass furniture for decades. I first came across him at my local roller disco somewhere in the 80s where he would flex his early DJ skills. Phil was cutting and scratching on the decks way before anyone I knew.

His history is quite something. In the early 90s he contacted Dave Noller from Dynamix II in Florida and after sending demos (pre-Internet of course). He ended up going there to make some tunes under the name of Cybernet Systems.

Phil has had many monikers and worked with lots of people over the years. Model Citizens with Matt Whitehead, IBM, Gods of Technology and Kronos Device with Si Brown (Dexorcist) and myself both as The Brink and part of The Resonance Committee to name a few. 2021 saw the release of the album Sub Sonic Survivor on Bass Agenda. He's had releases on lots of labels over the years including Control Tower, Firewire, SMB, Ed DMX's Breakin records, Andrea Parker's Touchin Bass label, Billy Nasty's Electrix and his own Battle Trax label.

Throbullating throughout the galaxy since 1986!

Berlin based producer Blush Response returns to Megastructure_ for his first full length release since 2021’s Reconstitution, NEUROSCAPE

9 tracks of absolutely screaming and energetic Post-Industrial Techno / IDM for those looking for sounds on the fringes of reality. Driving, pulsating, organic alien grooves populate the dense landscape of sound and showcase the next evolution in Blush’s sonic signature.

Neuroscape features collaborations from Bon Harris of Nitzer Ebb (a rare vocal appearance!) on Chained, and Richard Devine on Foldspace Transition – a track that was started in Devine’s studio in Atlanta and then completed in Berlin. Blush also makes his first apperance on vocals in nearly a decade, with the opening track, Submit.








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Feat. Richard Devine

Underneath his mysterious metal mask, MF DOOM hides the cachet underground legends are made of. After his first group KMD’s sophomore album Black Bastards was shelved by Elektra in 1994, and his blood brother Subroc — one half of the sibling rap duo — passed away, surviving frontman Zev Love X slowly mutated into the supervillain MC known as MF DOOM, and the rap world is better for it.

The 1999 release of Operation: Doomsday marked MF DOOM’s official debut, reintroducing a mysterious figure who would soon become one of underground rap’s greatest voices. Within its 19 tracks, Operation: Doomsday reveals the confluence of DOOM’s tragic past, personal interests and daring creativity. His clever rhymes and remarkable schemes stood out against the landscape, and every sound he touched — from cartoon theme songs, to ‘80s soul, to rap classics and more — got reinterpreted into something brand new and surreal.

Decades later, MF DOOM is still celebrated for all facets of his work and influence. In the face of tragedy, DOOM re-infiltrated the rap game on his own terms, and crafted an instant cult classic. Operation: Doomsday stands as a testament to the power of betting on yourself against all odds.

Day Of Action sees Low Order reinforcing his vision of unrelenting techno-realism. Knowing the Tel Aviv producer’s general direction, it shouldn’t be inherently shocking that his latest 5-track EP comes storming out in radical fashion, immediately punching one in the face with its blunt, incredibly heavy bassdrums. Text by Benedikt Eiden (Lärm & Gestalt ).

Mammal Hands announce spell-binding new album 'Gift from the Trees', their fifth studio album, pointing to subtle shifts and exciting new departures for the unique trio
"We're at a point now where playing and writing together can sometimes feel almost telepathic, that as individuals we can tune in to a collective resonance..."
Mammal Hands fifth album 'Gift from the Trees' offers a fresh perspective on the unique trio's singular music. The first to be recorded in a residential studio, the band enjoyed the opportunity to go late into the night searching for a deeper, more organic experience, closer to both their writing process but also their trance-like live performances. While some of the music was pre-composed and had even been performed live, the band also enjoyed the opportunity to improvise ideas in the studio. Drummer Jesse Barrett explains:
We wanted to have a more immersive experience that felt closer to our writing process. One thing that was really important to us was feeling free to jam out ideas as they came to us. We're at a point now where playing and writing together can sometimes feel almost telepathic, that as individuals we can tune in to a collective resonance and just follow that thread where it wants to go. Sometimes it's something as simple as a rhythmic, textural flow, like in Sleeping Bear.
There was also a conscious decision to move away from the sound and ambiance of the recording studio, with the band opting to engineer the record with their go-to live engineer Benjamin Capp before mixing the sessions with Greg Freeman in Berlin. The idea was to try and capture more of the energy of the band's captivating shows, saxophonist Jordan Smart explains:
Considering the group of tracks we had, it made sense to try and capture this process as organically and honestly as possible, and so a change in studio environment felt like the right move to us. Some of the tracks have a raw joy and energy that came with being able to play together again after a long period of time of having been apart, and capture that feeling of just being happy to be in a room with our instruments altogether again.
Whereas for pianist Nick Smart there was also the chance to really go deep into the band's music:
The new studio environment really opened us up to different ways of working and thinking because we could record at any hour of the day or night. I think this allowed us much more freedom to try unusual ideas and push elements of the music to extremes because we had the time to really focus in on the detail and work on things without time pressure. With some tracks, we were trying to find the boundaries of our playing ability and push beyond that point. With others, it was just getting into the right mindset and putting as much energy and emotion into the take as possible.'
The Welsh environment outside the studio doors seeped into the music presented on Gift from the Trees, with two recording sessions (one in winter and one in the spring) bringing different moods: one bleak and wintery, the other more hopeful and bright – an energy that permeates through tracks such as Kernel and Dimu.
Gift from the Trees opens with wonderfully elevating The Spinner which grew from one of Nick's piano parts and was developed and arranged into a complete tune without losing the feeling of constant flow and motion. It is almost like a dance, with the interaction of different melody parts and the doubling of certain parts melding together and fitting into the overall energetic flow, while Jesse's drums are both floating and deeply melodic. Riser aims to capture the band's raw energy and intriguingly is influenced by both breaks and modern drum production but also minimalist classical composition. Nightingale features the band at their most delicate and lyrical – a band favourite it draws heavily on modern folk with a beautifully realised melody that came unforced to pianist Nick Smart before being jammed out together. It was recorded early one morning, bringing an extra light and brightness to this beautiful performance.
Another album highlight is Dimu which utilises one of drummer Jesse Barret's favourite rhythmic devices from the Tabla repertoire and draws inspiration from Indian, Greek and Arabic music as well as modern folk arrangements. Dimu starts with saxophone over a bed of drones and percussion and moves through many different sections that frame and present the melodies in unique ways. The beguiling, intimate Deep within Mountains aims to place you in the room with the band as they play; it was recorded late at night to capture a dreamlike, liminal ambiance. The piano solo really reflects this mood and energy while the tenor is some of the softest and closest on the recording. Elsewhere, the remarkable Labyrinth started with what Nick describes as "some weird recording on my phone from a soundcheck, where Jordan was playing some crazy sounding bass clarinet part and I quickly recorded him", giving birth to a captivating, complex slice of propulsive 'almost' contemporary classical that like so much of the music on Gift from the Trees really couldn't be any other band than Mammal Hands.
Finally, the album draws to a close with the glorious Sleeping Bear, a tune that was wholly improvised in the studio. Nick and Jesse entered a simple but 'weird' locked groove and Jordan improvises melodies over the top. The track came about without any planning or thought; it was one of those special things that came by surprise and the band felt offered the perfect ending to their latest gift to us all: a deeply enthralling album that captures so much of what makes Mammal Hands a special band while mapping out new routes and paths for their beautiful, beguiling music.

Paul 'Damage' Bailey, one of the original resident DJs at Birmingham's House Of God club nights along with Surgeon and Sir Real, strikes back on De:tuned with 2 new relentless techno cuts. On offer, a mind-bending modular exploration that takes no prisoners from the Brummie powerhouse accompanied by top drawer remixes. James Ruskin transforms 'Hadal Zone' into a rare darkroom electro orientated piece, while Makaton turns out a deep pulsating 4/4 techno version of 'Decompression'. It's a real burner.

Kevin Foakes (Openmind, DJ Food, Ninja Tune) created all the graphic work. Mastered by Matt Colton at Metropolis and pressed on 180 gr vinyl. A separate digital release will also be available at the usual digital shops. Stay tuned!

SPHERES second release lands with Gilles Renneson's Callisto EP

Gilles Renneson's Callisto EP is the second release on Rua Sound's SPHERES sub-label. The second on the label following a much loved EP by Noroi in March, this EP delivers dark, UK-influenced broken techno for discerning bass music heads.

Gilles Renneson is one half of the highly acclaimed Brussels-based duo GoldFFinch, and he brings his exceptional production skills to the forefront with Callisto. Gilles has released on respected labels including Innervisions, Turbo, Fuse Music, 877, Dirtybird, and Glasgow's Numbers, and has made a major contribution to the post-dubstep and modern Belgian techno scene.

On Callisto, Gilles rolls out superbly creative percussion that moves between satisfying and anxious over the course of the EP, all loaded over broken kick drums. Fans of Livity Sound and Timedance take note.

The release comes packages with original artwork by Josje Bijl aka Yorobi.

Mastering by Bob Macc at Subvert Central.

Tape

A Wednesday song is a quilt. A short story collection, a half-memory, a patchwork of portraits of the American south, disparate moments that somehow make sense as a whole. Karly Hartzman, the songwriter/ vocalist/guitarist at the helm of the project, is a story collector as much as she is a storyteller: a scholar of people and one-liners. Rat Saw God, the Asheville quintet's new and best record, is ekphrastic but autobiographical and above all, deeply empathetic. Across the album's ten tracks Hartzman, guitarist MJ Lenderman, bassist Margo Shultz, drummer Alan Miller, and lap/pedal steel player Xandy Chelmis build a shrine to minutiae. Half-funny, half-tragic dispatches from North Carolina unfurling somewhere between the wailing skuzz of Nineties shoegaze and classic country twang, that distorted lap steel and Hartzman's voice slicing through the din. Rat Saw God is an album about riding a bike down a suburban stretch in Greensboro while listening to My Bloody Valentine for the first time on an iPod Nano, past a creek that runs through the neighborhood riddled with broken glass bottles and condoms, a front yard filled with broken and rusted car parts, a lonely and dilapidated house reclaimed by kudzu. Four Lokos and rodeo clowns and a kid who burns down a corn field. Roadside monuments, church marquees, poppers and vodka in a plastic water bottle, the shit you get away with at Jewish summer camp, strange sentimental family heirlooms at the thrift stores. The way the South hums alive all night in the summers and into fall, the sound of high school football games, the halo effect from the lights polluting the darkness. It's not really bright enough to see in front of you, but in that stretch of inky void - somehow - you see everything. The songs on Rat Saw God don't recount epics, just the everyday. They're true, they're real life, blurry and chaotic and strange - which is in-line with Hartzman's own ethos: "Everyone's story is worthy," she says, plainly. "Literally every life story is worth writing down, because people are so fascinating." But the thing about Rat Saw God - and about any Wednesday song, really - is you don't necessarily even need all the references to get it, the weirdly specific elation of a song that really hits. Yeah, it's all in the details - how fucked up you got or get, how you break a heart, how you fall in love, how you make yourself and others feel seen - but it's mostly the way those tiny moments add up into a song or album or a person.

On Labyrinth, Heather Woods Broderick serves as our reflective host, subverting expectations of conventional songcraft with impressionistic language and quietly relentless explorations of the human experience that's at once light and dark, more circular and less linear. "Many of us yearn for stillness and peace, as an escape from the movement all around us," she explains when asked about the themes of the album. "Yet movement is perpetual, happening all the time on some level. It's as wild as the wind, yet eternally predictable in its inevitability. It is linear in part, but infinite in its circuitry. Our lives just punctuate it." Broderick began crafting Labyrinth in March 2020, when most forms of move- ment were brought to a screeching halt. The Maine-born, Los Angeles-based songwriter _ who, in addition to her work as a solo musician, built a life playing and touring with acts such as Sharon Van Etten, Beth Orton, Damien Jurado, and Efterklang _ was suddenly forced off the road for the first time in her career. She used this disruption as an opportunity to pare down her creation process and construct the scaffolding for Labyrinth in her apartment. Employing only the most crucial tools at her disposal, Broderick found herself opening different artistic doors as she focused on sharpening her recording skills, capturing the majority of the album on her own before finishing the remainder with co-producer D. James Goodwin. For all of Broderick's sage lyricism and vocal authority, Labyrinth never provides the listener with any easy answers. If the image of the labyrinth represents the enormity of modern life and the difficulty of navigating it, Heather Woods Broder- ick provides a guide to its endless kinetic wonders _ of being present, aware, and connected despite its disconnects. She describes the texture of its walls, its indifferent rhythms, and the inherent poeticism of feeling lost amid the dead-ends and unexpected turns. At this point in our history, perhaps that's all we need to keep moving.

Grey Vinyl

On Labyrinth, Heather Woods Broderick serves as our reflective host, subverting expectations of conventional songcraft with impressionistic language and quietly relentless explorations of the human experience that's at once light and dark, more circular and less linear. "Many of us yearn for stillness and peace, as an escape from the movement all around us," she explains when asked about the themes of the album. "Yet movement is perpetual, happening all the time on some level. It's as wild as the wind, yet eternally predictable in its inevitability. It is linear in part, but infinite in its circuitry. Our lives just punctuate it." Broderick began crafting Labyrinth in March 2020, when most forms of move- ment were brought to a screeching halt. The Maine-born, Los Angeles-based songwriter _ who, in addition to her work as a solo musician, built a life playing and touring with acts such as Sharon Van Etten, Beth Orton, Damien Jurado, and Efterklang _ was suddenly forced off the road for the first time in her career. She used this disruption as an opportunity to pare down her creation process and construct the scaffolding for Labyrinth in her apartment. Employing only the most crucial tools at her disposal, Broderick found herself opening different artistic doors as she focused on sharpening her recording skills, capturing the majority of the album on her own before finishing the remainder with co-producer D. James Goodwin. For all of Broderick's sage lyricism and vocal authority, Labyrinth never provides the listener with any easy answers. If the image of the labyrinth represents the enormity of modern life and the difficulty of navigating it, Heather Woods Broder- ick provides a guide to its endless kinetic wonders _ of being present, aware, and connected despite its disconnects. She describes the texture of its walls, its indifferent rhythms, and the inherent poeticism of feeling lost amid the dead-ends and unexpected turns. At this point in our history, perhaps that's all we need to keep moving.

Devon Church ist ein aus Winnipeg, Manitoba, stammender und in New York City lebender Singer-Songwriter. Er war viele Jahre lang Multiinstrumentalist, Co-Autor und Produzent des Dreampop-Duos Exitmusic, dessen Album Passage 2012 bei Secretly Canadian erschien und von Pitchfork als "aufrührerisch, cineastisch und manchmal brillant" beschrieben wurde. 2018, im selben Jahr, in dem Exitmusic ihren Abgesang The Recognitions auf felte veröffentlichte, brachte Church sein Solodebüt We Are Inextricable ebenfalls auf felte heraus, das die texturalen elektronischen Elemente, die er während der Exitmusic-Jahre genutzt hatte, in den Dienst eines Songwriting-Stils stellte, der in der Folk-Rock-Tradition verwurzelt ist. Nachdem Church 2019 in den gesamten USA aufgetreten war (im Vorprogramm von Orville Peck, Adam Green, Kirin J Callinan und Black Marble), machte er sich an die Arbeit, um sein neuestes Werk, Strange Strangers, aufzunehmen, während er in einer Scheune im ländlichen Pennsylvania Zuflucht vor der globalen Pandemie suchte. Das größtenteils selbst produzierte Album klingt, als hätte Eno aus der Apollo-Ära Phil Spector auf halbem Wege zu den Aufnahmen von Death of a Ladies Man die Regler (und die Pistole) entrissen. Die atmosphärischen Elemente von Churchs früheren Produktionen werden auf dem Album sublimiert und in den Dienst von bandgesättigtem Gesang, Combo-Orgeln und Gitarren gestellt. Seine Stimme, die seit seinem Debüt selbstbewusster und zurückhaltender geworden ist, ist immer noch irgendwo zwischen einem lakonischen Lee-Hazelwood und einem rauchigen Tom Waits, aber sie wird bei Stücken wie dem intensiv melodischen und treibenden "Flash of Lightning in a Clear Blue Sky" deutlich ruhiger. Die engelsgleichen Backing Vocals von Churchs Partnerin, der Künstlerin Ada Roth, verleihen dem Bariton des weltmüden Erzählers eine Aura von traumhafter Leichtigkeit. Wenn Roth in gedämpften, an Hope Sandoval erinnernden Tönen in den Vordergrund tritt und einen Text wie "We're so bored of the apocalypse" vorträgt, nehmen die Dinge eine subtil bedrohliche Wendung in Richtung Pop-Surrealismus. Ein Sinn für kosmischen schwarzen Humor hat sich in Churchs Texte eingeschlichen. Strange Strangers leiht sich den Titel von dem Öko-Philosophen Timothy Morton: "The strangeness of strange strangers is itself strange, meaning the more we know about an entity the stranger it becomes."