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Fika Recordings are pleased to present Bring On The Apathy, the third solo record from Scottish songwriter Adam Ross. Adam Ross is an indie-folk songwriter based in north-east Scotland. He is a solo artist and has also led the cult indie band Randolph's Leap for over a decade, releasing music with legendary Fence Records and Lost Map as well as Olive Grove Records and Fika Recordings. He is known for his unique brand of articulate lyricism which blends humour, poignancy, wordplay and offbeat stories.. “Bring On The Apathy” was recorded onto tape, using traditional analogue techniques at Glasgow’s Green Door Studio with Samuel J. Smith. It showcases some of the most emotionally open, lyrically deft and characterful songwriting so far from one of Scotland’s most accomplished writers. The vintage recording approach brings a warmth and intimacy to a record which is in equal parts raw and organic while also beautifully arranged and performed as Adam is joined by a raft of excellent collaborators. The album itself is a reaction. Whether it be in the title, the lyrical content or the method in which the sounds were captured. “I was feeling fairly down and uninspired about the musical landscape” Adam explains. “The risk with digital recording where every instrument is overdubbed separately is that it can end up sounding metronomic, sterile and lacking personality.

I also started to get a bit freaked out by the topic of AI-generated music and the insidious, creeping impact it’s already having. I therefore decided that, as a bit of a protest, I wanted to make something that sounded extra-specially human and hand-crafted, where you could hopefully hear the interplay between musicians.” For this reason, Adam decided to record the majority of the album live, as a band, playing together in the same room without a click track. “I’d put a band together to tour my last album, Littoral Zone, and I really enjoyed the way we all worked together. Green Door Studio was chosen as the destination as it specialises in analogue sound production but it had an extra significance for Adam. “Green Door was the first studio I ever recorded in, back in 2009. This time around, the “unforgiving” nature of tape recording became an inspiration. “The musicians on the record are such great players that they rarely make mistakes, so there was a confidence there that we wouldn’t need to rely on copious amounts of editing or post-production, which isn’t always possible with tape anyway. The core band consisted of Owen Curtis-Williams on drums, Cameron Maxwell on bass, Pedro Cameron on violin, Gillian Fleetwood on harp and (long-time collaborator with Randolph’s Leap) Pete MacDonald on piano. Mercury Prize-nominated artist C Duncan was drafted in to write and perform backing vocal arrangements along with Amanda Nizich and Gillian Fleetwood. Adam says “I’d been listening to a lot of Bob Dylan, Karen Dalton and Bill Callahan records and I thought it might be interesting to apply those sorts of influences to my brand of Scottish quirk-pop”.

Just as you were getting your head straight coming off the 21st Trip … Brown Acid dose # 22 drops, continuing to fry your mind in a revolving trap-door Twilight Zone alternate world of early hard rock… populated by real life characters so far out they can look like a cheesy wedding band but sound like Blue Cheer! Uncanny! This music comes at you from many angles. Teens in a garage colliding with booze, drugs and girls for the first time, lounge lizard hustlers with snazzy stage clothes and fuzz boxes… gnarly backwoods troublemakers meet blow dried glam rock wannabes here, seamlessly clobbering your head with sound rather than each other! An electric post-psychedelic bar brawl for your mind awaits, unfasten your seat belt, crank it up and fly! Sounds Synonymous "Babylon" out of Flint, Michigan 1969 rip the devastating Blue Cheer classic a new one, immediately swarming you with organ swells and distortion before collapsing into a tuff funk groove, a psychedelic James Brown vibe shot through with dirty howling fuzz guitar, vocals nailing the messed up but confident relaxed sneering attitude of the original Cheer eruption. The Bumps "Shining" from Seattle 1969 resides right at the transition of ‘60s psych into early prog, well constructed, no diluting things artsy fartsy style, a compelling heavy riff, spacious vocal harmony hook floating above a turbulent take on getting your shit together and shining like a star. Fat chance, but you can dream, the band did and their dreams kick ass across time to right now or you wouldn’t be here.

Coulda been a hit back then, definitely a hit now. Riverside "Farmer" explodes out of Austin, Texas 1974, economical but brilliantly structured riffs and power chords, intense dynamic tension/release, fantastic screaming leads over shifting angles of attack during the middle break… it’s all here with a detached confidence in the vocal that swaggers back in time to the late ‘60s in its proto-heavy psych adjacent assault. Cincinnati Joe & Mad Lydia "Get It Together" for real in Cincinnati, Ohio 1970. The song says everything you need to know: “You may think that you’re the very best, miles and miles ahead of the rest, but be sure when you’re put to the test you get it together!” These words are deployed in a manner similar to Peter Green’s “Oh Well”, intermittently stated between killer gnarly guitar and gushy organ attacks. Bar band heaven and hell rolled up into one big ball, the vocals get all the way out there! Straight Up "Fire" takes the monster 1968 Crazy World Of Arthur Brown hit into faithfully executed but surreally minimalist territory, Minneapolis, Minnesota 1974. Genius version of a key song that presciently cuts to the chase regarding Brown Acid’s incinerations of psychedelic idealism, you’re gonna burn, burn, burn… as that moment climaxes you can gawk at their preposterous flashy lounge band stage outfits and realize side one must end because everything is totally scorched into eternity. Scrap Iron "Poopsie" is a primitive two chord stomper with spiraling fuzz and organ riffs, singer marking his territory caveman style. “Poopsie, you’re my woman” he commands, but gets weirdly insecure she’ll blow him off at the altar by the end of each verse. Snarly wah-wah ices this toxic cake out of Carteret, New Jersey 1973. Focused delivery so single-mindedly crude it creates an inescapable instant brain-worm. Lady "Live Show Tigers" is amongst the most potently life affirming trash rockers you’ll ever hear, one outrageously triumphant but fiercely sloppy anthem about living it up like a star, strutting the stage glammed up New York Dolls drag style but with a Dictators sense of humor. Tasty slightly off kilter guitar leads all through, going serendipitously berserk on the fade. Picture disc single out of L.A. 1980. Fantastic fun rock star rock at a very raw local street level where any time is party time.

Killer Frog "Hard Times" on Masochist Records from Chicago, Illinois 1972 takes less than two minutes, an action packed James Gang style bar band rocker with a bit of punky sneer in the face of misfortune. These guys never even heard of flower power. They are killer frogs. Good Humore "Killer" does kill in stripped down hard rock trio style, Warren, Michigan 1976. No frills guitar, bass and drums groove tight, snaky primordial riff, snarly licks. “She’s a killer of a woman, knows just what she’s doing…” The singer knows she’s a femme-fatale roadhouse predator but she’s so hot the inevitable wreckage seems a bargain. Ride it out like the extended jam on the fade knowing she’ll be back for more! Sarawest "Space Rider" winds up the 22nd Trip lost in a twisted two chord space adventure from the point of view of an alien visiting our planet seeking knowledge but finding out we are stupidly destroying ourselves, so he gotta split sneering back at us like we wasted his time “I got no time for loving… I wanna be a space rider, space rider”. Toronto, Canada 1974, a vibe lurking in some strange but funny void between late ‘60s outsider garage psychedelic rock complete with reverb-y acid guitar leads and late ‘70s retro-futuristic D.I.Y wisecracking from inner space… taking the piss out of outer space!

Just as you were getting your head straight coming off the 21st Trip … Brown Acid dose # 22 drops, continuing to fry your mind in a revolving trap-door Twilight Zone alternate world of early hard rock… populated by real life characters so far out they can look like a cheesy wedding band but sound like Blue Cheer! Uncanny! This music comes at you from many angles. Teens in a garage colliding with booze, drugs and girls for the first time, lounge lizard hustlers with snazzy stage clothes and fuzz boxes… gnarly backwoods troublemakers meet blow dried glam rock wannabes here, seamlessly clobbering your head with sound rather than each other! An electric post-psychedelic bar brawl for your mind awaits, unfasten your seat belt, crank it up and fly! Sounds Synonymous "Babylon" out of Flint, Michigan 1969 rip the devastating Blue Cheer classic a new one, immediately swarming you with organ swells and distortion before collapsing into a tuff funk groove, a psychedelic James Brown vibe shot through with dirty howling fuzz guitar, vocals nailing the messed up but confident relaxed sneering attitude of the original Cheer eruption. The Bumps "Shining" from Seattle 1969 resides right at the transition of ‘60s psych into early prog, well constructed, no diluting things artsy fartsy style, a compelling heavy riff, spacious vocal harmony hook floating above a turbulent take on getting your shit together and shining like a star. Fat chance, but you can dream, the band did and their dreams kick ass across time to right now or you wouldn’t be here.

Coulda been a hit back then, definitely a hit now. Riverside "Farmer" explodes out of Austin, Texas 1974, economical but brilliantly structured riffs and power chords, intense dynamic tension/release, fantastic screaming leads over shifting angles of attack during the middle break… it’s all here with a detached confidence in the vocal that swaggers back in time to the late ‘60s in its proto-heavy psych adjacent assault. Cincinnati Joe & Mad Lydia "Get It Together" for real in Cincinnati, Ohio 1970. The song says everything you need to know: “You may think that you’re the very best, miles and miles ahead of the rest, but be sure when you’re put to the test you get it together!” These words are deployed in a manner similar to Peter Green’s “Oh Well”, intermittently stated between killer gnarly guitar and gushy organ attacks. Bar band heaven and hell rolled up into one big ball, the vocals get all the way out there! Straight Up "Fire" takes the monster 1968 Crazy World Of Arthur Brown hit into faithfully executed but surreally minimalist territory, Minneapolis, Minnesota 1974. Genius version of a key song that presciently cuts to the chase regarding Brown Acid’s incinerations of psychedelic idealism, you’re gonna burn, burn, burn… as that moment climaxes you can gawk at their preposterous flashy lounge band stage outfits and realize side one must end because everything is totally scorched into eternity. Scrap Iron "Poopsie" is a primitive two chord stomper with spiraling fuzz and organ riffs, singer marking his territory caveman style. “Poopsie, you’re my woman” he commands, but gets weirdly insecure she’ll blow him off at the altar by the end of each verse. Snarly wah-wah ices this toxic cake out of Carteret, New Jersey 1973. Focused delivery so single-mindedly crude it creates an inescapable instant brain-worm. Lady "Live Show Tigers" is amongst the most potently life affirming trash rockers you’ll ever hear, one outrageously triumphant but fiercely sloppy anthem about living it up like a star, strutting the stage glammed up New York Dolls drag style but with a Dictators sense of humor. Tasty slightly off kilter guitar leads all through, going serendipitously berserk on the fade. Picture disc single out of L.A. 1980. Fantastic fun rock star rock at a very raw local street level where any time is party time.

Killer Frog "Hard Times" on Masochist Records from Chicago, Illinois 1972 takes less than two minutes, an action packed James Gang style bar band rocker with a bit of punky sneer in the face of misfortune. These guys never even heard of flower power. They are killer frogs. Good Humore "Killer" does kill in stripped down hard rock trio style, Warren, Michigan 1976. No frills guitar, bass and drums groove tight, snaky primordial riff, snarly licks. “She’s a killer of a woman, knows just what she’s doing…” The singer knows she’s a femme-fatale roadhouse predator but she’s so hot the inevitable wreckage seems a bargain. Ride it out like the extended jam on the fade knowing she’ll be back for more! Sarawest "Space Rider" winds up the 22nd Trip lost in a twisted two chord space adventure from the point of view of an alien visiting our planet seeking knowledge but finding out we are stupidly destroying ourselves, so he gotta split sneering back at us like we wasted his time “I got no time for loving… I wanna be a space rider, space rider”. Toronto, Canada 1974, a vibe lurking in some strange but funny void between late ‘60s outsider garage psychedelic rock complete with reverb-y acid guitar leads and late ‘70s retro-futuristic D.I.Y wisecracking from inner space… taking the piss out of outer space!

A guitar stands alone in Wedding, that metropolitan biotope in the western center of Berlin, caught in constant transformation between idyll and abyss. It lets its gaze wander, unsettled, almost shy, until it encounters a trumpet, with which it begins a cautious, then ever more intimate pas de deux.
Welcome to the second studio album by the Berlin-based band Conic Rose.
The album title Wedding is no coincidence. The story of Conic Rose is closely intertwined with the Berlin neighborhood that gives the record its name. The band's studio is located here, and both studio albums were created in the immediate vicinity of the small river Panke. This place settles over the music like a warming patina. The album feels as though the musicians and the neighborhood have invited one another to get to know each other. Not least because Wedding also means marriage. These marriages between a band and an urban landscape, a fading past and an emerging future, fear and hope - unfold in every single song on Wedding.
For their second album, Conic Rose repositioned themselves completely. Not in terms of personnel, but in the question of how to move forward. Conic Rose still sound like Conic Rose; their distinctive blend of cinematic jazz, ambient textures and guitar-led contemporary music remains untouched. And yet Wedding is, in many ways, the conceptual counterpart to their debut album Heller Tag. Where the debut documented movement within an urban setting, Wedding describes a state of being. Behind every piece seems to hover a large question mark.The group opens up its palette, allowing more influences, becoming at once more subtle, more profound, more filigree. It is less about definition than about the spaces in between. The most immediately striking difference from the previous album is the strong presence of the guitar. In Bertram Burkert's playing, many voices seem to converge. His yearning openness forms an equal counterpoint to Döben's trumpet and flugelhorn. Blurred and layered sounds occasionally make the ground seem to slip away beneath one's feet, while Döben's gliding lines create both closeness and distance. Together, the band express in a deeply subtle way a sense of life that corresponds precisely to our time. Something lurks in the background, omnipresent yet still unnameable. Conic Rose need no words to convey this feeling of uncertainty with remarkable eloquence. Perhaps this has something to do with Wedding being a place of confrontational introspection, but Conic Rose confront the escape from escape itself. With the recording and release of Wedding, this process is far from complete. The seed only begins to grow in the listener's ear. With every listen and the echo it leaves behind in memory, the studio bud continues to bloom. The album is merely the point of departure. What ultimately matters is what it sets in motion within those who encounter it.

Myth? Legend? No need to pump this up, the music is self evident. As is the crew of Marfox, NK, Nervoso, Fofuxo, Pausas and Jesse, who shaped the universe as we know it. The simplest of elements for maximum (minimal) impact, an imperative burst of energy that perfectly echoes the title of Marfox's first EP: I Know Who I Am.

These are statements of personality directly stamped on the dancefloor. "Hard Tecno" (without the H, yes) embodies the crystal clear intention of the set: to light a fire wherever the beats fall. To make people smile and move. And this was (and is) achieved without the need for obvious smiley culture signposts. The music just came through with fierce enthusiasm. All were youngsters (Nervoso being the elder) in 2007, and youth is definitely a factor in the fearless display of bare bones dance music production. Raw, is it?

A second volume of DJs di Guetto on Príncipe was always going to happen. The tough part was deciding how to organize the bangers on the tracklist without ending up with a quadruple vinyl set. Thus separate volumes 1&2. Volume 1 (2023) was culled from the actual DJs di Guetto compilation (self released in 2006), whereas Volume 2 comes straight from the crew's archives, nearly 100% unreleased tracks produced in 2007.

The crew disbanded as such a long time ago, but the legacy stands as sacred scriptures stand. FL Studio and standard laptop and tower desktop PCs combined as raw materials; a no-fuss approach added by these DJs and producers who sound unequivocally rootsy and primeval, drinking from the source. Also punishingly minimal, dry and alien. Happy-sad, sweet-sour, nice-angry, soft-aggressive. Words fail us. It's 2026, new humans seem to beon the rise but some old ways are still enthralling.

2026 Repress

Un-American Activities is the 11th Studio album by Molly Nilsson. Written and recorded entirely on location in California at the former home of writer, poet and early opponent of the National Socialist regime in 1930s Germany, Lion Feuchtwanger and his wife Marta. An album of experimentation, genre-mashing and, above it all, Nilsson’s instantly recognisable melodic skill and empathy, it continues the songwriter’s explorations of power, freedom, oppression and its opposing force, a love unbound.
After accepting an artist residency as part of the Villa Aurora program, Nilsson began work crafting a new album from scratch in a new environment, afforded the freedom, space and time to challenge her practice and take her music into new territory. The resulting work, Un American Activities, is a love note not only to the artist who was among the very first to be declared an “enemy of the state” by the Nazi regime but also to both the eternal struggle he fought and the human spirit that pervades all of Nilsson’s best work. It is also a double-pointed poison pen letter: a critique of the new forms of oppression wielded by her temporary adopted country of the USA but also an acknowledgement of the promise it always offers but never fulfils.
Along with the novel use of colour and photography in the artwork for Un-American Activities, there are swathes of new techniques, genres and timbres new to Molly Nilsson’s music in evidence, 16 years into her music career. On Jackboots Return is an icicle-cold New Beat track that deals directly with the current situation in Germany and the resurgent Nazi-affiliated AfD. The question the song asks is, what’s the timeframe we’re talking about? Is this the 30s, or somewhere a lot closer to home? The beat is picked up on The Communist Party, Nilsson’s deepest bow to House music, evoking the early 90s Rave pioneers, Belgian 80s music and Vogue-era Madonna. Here the lyrics are direct quotes from the McCarthy-era, anti-Communist pamphlet 100 Things You Should Know About Communism in the U.S.A. The Beauty Of The Duty does to pounding Electro what Nilsson’s last album Extreme did to Metal: subsume it into the Molly Nilsson aesthetic. It goes hard.
While Un-American Activities finds Nilsson experimenting, creating instinctive music on a first-thought-bestthought basis there are still “classic” Molly moments liberally spread throughout. Excalibur feels like the Molly of old, an absolute star of a chorus refrain smudged with the vaseline of fuzz and hope, Red Telephone is wide-eyed, slathered in reverb and chorus effects, distorted with soaring melody, a heart-tugger that tugs the body upwards to the heavens with each evolving wave. Glistening digital tones wash through the album, providing a Y2K etherealness to Nilsson’s audacious Stars and Stripes reference to Wetcheeks. Perhaps the album’s standout, however, is Palestine (Somewhere Over The Rainbow), which is suffuse with empathy, solidarity and, in referencing the classic socialist-penned canon song from The Wizard Of Oz, speaks directly to the tradition of fighting oppression with full hearts of hope.

After the success of her fiery 2024 LP, Baptized By The Blaze, Nashville outlaw siren India Ramey is back with Villain Era, set for release on May 8, 2026, via Copoco Records/Blue Èlan. Baptized By The Blaze was the story of Ramey’s journey through the fire, a harrowing passage toward healing and empowerment. Villain Era is firmly rooted in her own reckoning; it doesn’t ask for permission, it kicks the door wide open. “This album is the ‘healed’ me,” Ramey says. “I didn’t know how to have boundaries because I was such a people pleaser. If my boundaries offend you, I’ll happily play the villain in that story.” Ramey left the South for the first time to record in Los Angeles with two-time Grammy-nominated producer Eric Corne. Together, they built a soundscape as cinematic as it is cathartic, with a powerhouse band including Ted Russell Kamp, Eugene Edwards, Chris Masterson, Eleanor Whitmore, Kevin Brown, Boo Bernstein, and Haley Spence Brown. The result is Villain Era: ten spaghetti western–meets–honky tonk vignettes penned solely by Ramey, laced with grit, gallows humor, and emotional precision. With five studio albums under her belt, Ramey continues to be one of country music’s fiercest truth-tellers. Now, with Villain Era, she stands unapologetically in her power, delivering songs that cut deep and laugh loud, songs that balance the weight of lived experience with the freedom of release.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sergeant ventures deeper into the chaos, occasionally emerging with something dangerously close to catchiness.

Symbols further explores the technique the band calls “dj-shadow-in-reverse”. Instead of digging for samples, they dig through themselves. Things are cut apart and glued back together: kraut drums, plunderphonics fragments, dance floor killers and dub chambers. This time, the wreckage has rhythm and the rhythm has an opinion. Ferre sings through the songs like he’s looking for an exit and having a great time not finding it. Somewhere in there, a flute appears: it sounds slightly worried about the bassline. But the band is more in charge of its plot than ever before. Sergeant finds bliss in losing it over and over again.

A century-old grand piano, a secluded house surrounded by the greenery of Brittany, no internet connection, and a reel-to-reel recorder.L'Écho de Bretagne, the new EP by Niklas Paschburg, set for release from fall 2025 via Nettwerk Music Group, is a solo piano record as essential as it is intense. An album made of silences, space, slowness. A music that doesn't chase impact, but truth.

the album release is march 26th - 2026.

If his previous work, Mexican Alps (2025), marked the first time the German composer and producer created an ambient-electronic album without his instrument of choice, the piano, L'Écho de Bretagne emerges as a direct response to that absence. "It was exactly the lack of piano that brought about the need for this new record, which instead puts that instrument, so vital to me, at the very center, stripping everything else away," Niklas explains.

Born in 1994, Paschburg has shaped over the years a musical path deeply connected to travel, nature, and introspection. From his debutTuur Mang Welten(2016) toOceanic(2018),Svalbard(2020),Panta Rhei(2023), and the aforementionedMexican Alps— alongside soundtracks, remixes, and collaborations with artists like RY X, Hania Rani, Ásgeir, and Bryan Senti — his sound bridges neoclassical, electronic, ambient, and pop-driven composition.

WithL'Écho de Bretagne, the Hamburg-born, Berlin-based musician continues his exploration by seeking solitude in nature, much like he did onSvalbard, but this time with an even more radical choice: disconnecting completely from the internet, and switching off both computer and smartphone for a while, in order to fully immerse himself in his new music. "I rented an old cottage in Paimpol, Brittany, where I knew there was a grand piano," he recounts. "When I got there, I discovered that not only was the piano more than a hundred years old, but it was also of an unknown brand, never restored, and quite difficult to play. But that gave it a unique character, and I didn't give up. Sure, it was an instrument left to its own fate, I couldn't play anything too fast. But how fascinating was that? I'm convinced that setting limits, instead of giving yourself total freedom when composing, can become an extraordinary source of inspiration."

As for the decision to temporarily detach from a life that demands we stay constantly connected, Niklas describes it as both a creative and human experiment. "I had my laptop and phone with me, just in case, but I kept them turned off. That choice made me wantL'Écho de Bretagneto be a fully analog work, even in how it was recorded." A way of clearing the mind. "I don't think I've ever been as calm as I was during those days in Paimpol. Even though I was working on a very specific project and didn't have much time, that period was more relaxing than any vacation."

Not that it was free of hiccups. "I'd borrowed a reel-to-reel recorder small enough to travel with me, but after recording a session on the piano, I realized it wasn't working properly, the sound was distorted, full of crackles. I got worried, because I wasn't near any big city where I could find a technician. Luckily, I figured out the problem was the old tape reels I had brought along. That was the only time I had to go online, to order new ones. But it was just for a moment. I shut everything off again right after." At that point, Niklas was waiting for the new tapes to arrive. He found out, completely by chance, from a local UPS courier that they had been delivered to a nearby village. "Since my phone was off, I couldn't track the shipment. So one day I asked this delivery guy, who didn't know anything about it. But from that point on, we'd see each other daily and talk… That's what being disconnected also means: reconnecting with people around you, even strangers. It was thanks to that courier that I found out where the tapes had ended up. And he even helped me get them back, writing directions for me on a scrap of paper."

But there's another element that makes this new EP unique.L'Écho de Bretagnewas recorded entirely live; its tracks are all improvised, complete with their imperfections. This approach leads to a sound that is pure, profoundly organic, and deeply authentic, intentionally preserved to give the listener the feeling of a live performance happening in their own living room. The touch of fingers on the keys, the breath of the wood, the tension of the vibrating string, all become part of the music. There is no construction, only expression. "Even now, when I listen back to it, I feel that moment I gave myself to step away from everything: from reality, from words, from noise." The result is a collection of suspended melodies and atmospheres, reflecting a state of the soul. A refuge from the rush of time. A pause from the world.

On "Enduring Sonance," saxophonist and flutist Steve Wilson reflects on a lifetime of lyrical, deeply felt songs drawn from jazz, pop, and film—brought to life by an all-star ensemble featuring Renee Rosnes, Joe Locke, Jay Anderson, and Kendrick Scott. *** Certain songs have a way of lingering in the imagination—resonating long after we’ve last heard them, sometimes for a lifetime. On his breathtaking new album "Enduring Sonance," veteran saxophonist and flutist Steve Wilson celebrates the music that has left the deepest imprint on his musical life. “Some of the tunes on this record have stayed with me for, in some cases, over 50 years from the time that I first heard them,” Wilson says. “I wanted to put some music out there that people can connect with, no matter what kind of music they like.” Originally conceived as a ballads project, Enduring Sonance evolved into something broader and more personal. Rather than focusing on tempo or style, Wilson gravitated toward a sense of lyricism—music whose emotional clarity and melodic resonance endure across genres, decades, and listening habits.

To realize this vision, Wilson assembled a deeply intuitive ensemble featuring pianist and arranger Renee Rosnes, vibraphonist Joe Locke, bassist Jay Anderson, and drummer Kendrick Scott, with special guest Kevin Newton (French horn, Imani Winds) appearing on two tracks. Each musician brings a rare sensitivity to melody, texture, and space, allowing the material to unfold with warmth, restraint, and quiet authority. The repertoire draws from a wide musical landscape, including works by close collaborators and modern jazz masters Billy Childs and George Cables, alongside enduring songs by Michel Legrand, Quincy Jones, Milton Nascimento, Gino Vannelli, Bill Lee, and Eliane Elias. These are not standards in the traditional sense, but deeply personal selections—songs that have accompanied Wilson through different chapters of his life. The album opens with Childs’ “Quiet Girl,” its subtle rhythmic motion enhanced by Newton’s luminous French horn, and travels through cinematic ballads, soulful grooves, and reflective lyricism. The title Enduring Sonance speaks both to the lasting resonance of these songs and to Wilson’s enduring musical relationships—most notably with Rosnes, whom he has known for nearly four decades and whose sensitive arrangements help unify the album’s diverse repertoire. “These songs are the soundtrack of my life,” Wilson says. “I’d love it if listeners came away from this album with the same kind of enduring sound and feeling.”

180g Vinyl

The album features the group playing Gary McFarland arrangements of Kuhn's compositions, accompanied by a string section on several tracks, with Kuhn delivering stream of consciousness lyrics in an unplanned and largely improvised fashion in the studio. However, that wasn't the only surprising aspect to the session. Airto Moreira's appearance was more by chance than design, he having just popped by the studio, again, unplanned. The 'Steve Kuhn' album is all the stronger for these extemporaneous and serendipitous elements and showcases a band at the top of their game; tight and funky yet relaxed and flowing like molten gold, with stabs and washes of keyboard from Kuhn. Splashes of free playing enter the session, but the band never stray too far from a melodic and harmonious centre of gravity. Kuhn's deft keyboard skills provide melodic embroidery to the impressive rhythmic textures and tonal colours of Carter, Cobham and Moreira. As if the music wasn't enough, the album is given extra significance by the fact that, within a few months of the recording, McFarland would die after being mysteriously poisoned by methadone in a New York bar. In a sense, it is a valedictory album from McFarland, channeled by Kuhn and the band. It's among the hardest of Kuhn's albums to find so this reissue is most welcome. Luxuriate in the glow of Kuhn's Fender Rhodes and the pliant funky bass of Ron Carter; immerse yourself in the percussive interplay of Moreira and Cobham, a pairing that has rarely sounded so good. This is such an exquisite album; you will lose yourself in its delicate power and find yourself coming back to it again and again. "It's a beautiful picture, and it helped me to comprehend things, life a bit, you know. And as I'm thinking about it, I hope it does that for whoever listens to it too." - Thundercat, Musician Details: Heavyweight Vinyl 45 RPM Cut / Original glued prints on Thick Cardboard 700 gram / 2 Separated parts hand-glued / Glossy lamination / PVC outer / 30x60 cm insert printed on 300 gram DNS paper with interview to Steve Kuhn by Tony Higgins.

KITCHEN. LABEL is proud to present AGATE, the latest album by Japanese artist MEITEI, marking a deepening of the world he first shaped through his Kofū trilogy released between 2020 - 2023.

Named after the mineral agate, a stone formed through slow accumulation, pressure, and time, the album reflects MEITEI’s patient approach to sound. AGATE brings together extended and newly rearranged works from across the Kofū cycle alongside new compositions and passages, refining material developed through years of performance and sustained practice.

The album presents seven tracks:

HAŌ (Previously unreleased track)
SHIN-OIRAN (Remodeled from Oiran I, Kofū 2020)
SHIN-SADAYAKKO (Remodeled from Sadayakko, Kofū 2020)
SHIN-WAROSOKU (Remodeled from Wa-rōsoku, Kofū III 2023)
KYŪGEKI (Remodeled from Shinobi and Akira Kurosawa, Kofū II 2021)
SHIN-OIRAN II (Remodeled from Oiran II, Kofū 2020)
SHIN-EDOGAWARANPO (Remodeled from Edogawa Ranpo, Kofū III 2023)
Across these works, MEITEI expands the musical vocabulary first introduced in Kofū, a sound he once described as “lost Japanese mood.” While Kofū drew from fragments of folklore, theatre, ghost stories, and forgotten urban memory, it was never an act of historical reconstruction. Rather, it reflected a sensibility of the past observed from the present. With AGATE, this worldview is clarified as Shinpu, a process of discovery in which historical awareness becomes a foundation for contemporary creation rather than a constraint.

During five years of Kofū tours across Japan, Europe, and Asia, MEITEI performed this material in a wide range of spaces, from underground live houses and listening rooms to culturally significant sites. These environments influenced pacing, dynamics, and structure, shaping how the material evolved over time. AGATE is therefore not only a studio album, but the result of material refined through repeated performance.

If the Kofū albums were windows into forgotten eras, AGATE explores what lies beneath, sediment and strata formed through time and pressure. MEITEI’s approach to sound mirrors the nature of agate itself. Grains become texture. Texture becomes narrative. Voices drift through decaying layers of sound, while ancient instruments are used in non-traditional ways, forming distinctive percussive rhythms and melodies that appear and vanish without fixed resolution.

The album’s visual materials were developed under MEITEI’s direction through physical art-making processes. The cover artwork originates from a letterpress print created by Kamisoe, a Karakami atelier in Nishijin, Kyoto, using Kyo-karakami paper. The original artwork, produced through traditional woodblock techniques on handmade washi, was subsequently reproduced on print for the album edition. Kamisoe continues to reinterpret this historical Kyoto craft with a contemporary sensibility.

The title calligraphy was created by Bio Xie, whom MEITEI personally invited to participate in the project. During his performances abroad, MEITEI encountered in Taiwan a lingering atmosphere reminiscent of “Shitsunihon” — a sense of old Japanese memory that quietly endures beyond time. He was deeply drawn to Bio Xie’s distinctive use of Chinese characters, which resonated with this experience, and asked him to contribute to the visual expression of AGATE.

In parallel, MEITEI continues to reinterpret Japanese sensibility through his concept of “Shitsunihon,” presenting it as a contemporary musical language. The refined Kyoto motifs envisioned by Kamisoe and the distinctive calligraphic expression by Bio Xie intersect with MEITEI’s singular artistic direction, weaving together a newly articulated worldview.

The accompanying visual imagery, including the liner photographs, was created by photographer Hiroshi Okamoto, who was also responsible for the visual direction of MEITEI’s previous work, “Sen'nyū.” It draws from MEITEI’s lived experiences of winter seas, solitary cliffs, and breaking waves. These scenes symbolize the inner conflicts of the ten years he spent living in Hiroshima, and his confrontation with solitude and the sounds he creates.

AGATE will be released on 17 April 2025 via KITCHEN. LABEL on 180g vinyl, CD, and digital formats. The album is mastered by Kelly Hibbert, known for his work with Flying Lotus, Madlib, and J Dilla.

With AGATE, MEITEI returns to the material of Kofū with greater focus and discipline, continuing an ongoing process of working forward with inherited material.

Faitiche welcomes a new artist: Christina Kubisch belongs to the first generation of sound artists. Her practice ranges from performances, concerts, to works with video and visual art, but she is best known for her sound installations and electro-acoustic compositions.

TUNING brings together three pieces by Christina Kubisch from different periods of her oeuvre. What they have in common is the way they transform sound phenomena originally considered “non-music” into compositions.

Jan Jelinek: Gaming in Silence (2024) is the most recent work on this compilation. It’s a collage of electromagnetic waves, voice, and abstract sound textures. How did this combination come about?

Christina Kubisch: Gaming was commissioned as a fixed-media composition for the Sound Dome at ZKM Karlsruhe. Since Resonances: The Electromagnetic Bodies Project (2005), I’ve been making recordings in the old and new server rooms at the ZKM and in their permanent collection of historical computer games. Computer games like Asteroids (Atari, 1979) and Poly-Play (VEB Polytechnik, 1986) have specially generated analogue electromagnetic waves that interest me in particular on account of their density, rhythms and textures. I originally studied painting and to me the work of composition often feels like painting an abstract picture. I alter my source material as little as possible, layering and overlapping until a distinctive sound space emerges. In recent pieces, I sometimes combine magnetic waves with field recordings or live instruments. In Gaming it’s my recording of a Chinese song about silence.

JJ: Two persons walking through a street in Madrid (2004) is a recording from your Electrical Walks series. Here we should give a brief explanation of one of your best known works: participants in an Electrical Walk move through public spaces wearing prepared headphones that allow them to receive electromagnetic waves from their surroundings – for example from security gates, ATMs or neon signs. They discover a situation that normally is inaudible to the human ear and they can actively shape it by choreographing their movements. I really admire this piece, not least because there’s no clear dividing line between participants and artist. What exactly do we hear in Two persons walking through a street in Madrid (2004)?

CK: With this early work, I wanted to understand what is heard by people participating in an Electrical Walk in the same place but moving in different ways. The Spanish composer Miguel Alvarez-Fernàndez and I set off from opposite ends of a major shopping street in Madrid, met briefly in the middle, and then continued to the end. We both recorded our walks and I then layered them over one another. You might call it a work of electromagnetic conceptualism.

JJ: Diapason (2009 version) is an installation that plays a composition based on sounds from fifteen tuning forks. This setting is audible in the recording: there’s no dramatic arc, no beginning or end – instead, it recalls a piece of aleatoric music focussing on the decay phase. How did you come to make this work and could you tell us something about your compositional method?

CK: Diapason is part of a series of three pieces that deal with “non-instruments” or instruments that no longer exist: electrical mine bells used to send signals to the workers underground; a historical glass harmonica originally used for medicinal purposes; and tuning forks that were used by doctors to test people’s hearing. All of these methods are no longer in use. The sound of the tuning forks, audible only if held close to the ear, was recorded at the electronic studio at Berlin’s Technical University in such a way that even their decay remained audible. The frequencies range between 64 and 2048 Hertz and they can be adjusted at micro-intervals using small movable weights. The sequence and the duration of the pauses are dictated by chance and were not defined in advance. The 2009 version was created for an installation in the historic Holy Cross Church (Korskirken) in Bergen. Visitors could enter and leave the space at any time, deciding for themselves where and for how long they wished to listen to the sounds played back over an array of small loudspeakers placed on the floor of the apse.

Credits:

Gaming in Silence: commission of the ZKM/Hertzlab, Karlsruhe 2023
elektronic sound processing: Tom Thiel
sound engineering and mixing: Eckehard Güther

Diapason: produced at Elektronisches Studio of TU Berlin
rearrangement: Eckehard Güther

Christina Kubisch, published by Edition Christina Kubisch / Random Musick Publishing

image front: Transitionen 2021 by C. Kubisch, sonagrams of electronic waves (courtesy: Galerie Mazzoli Berlin)
image back: Diapason Tuning Fork, property of Folkmar Hein, Photo: Archiv Christina Kubisch

design by Tim Tetzner
mastered by Giuseppe Ielasi
Thanks to Miguel Álvarez-Fernández, Folkmar Hein, Dominik Kautz and Mario Mazzoli

"Brudna - Bielizna" is the second album by the boy band KOSMONAUCI. This album consists of original compositions by the band members, which were created over the past two years and evolved together with the artists during concerts. The Kosmonauts' music is rooted in jazz and improvisation, but over time, the musicians have developed many new paths and ways of drawing from many other, seemingly disparate musical genres. On the album "Brudna - Bielizna" the Kosmonauts continue to explore various genre and stylistic combinations. However, the second album is more focused and connected to the band members' jazz inspirations. KOSMONAUCI have been playing together since high school, and this is clearly audible.

***After very quick SOLD OUT of the U JAZZ ME vinyl - we are adding new version of the album - 200 copies extra of white and blue galaxy vinyl in collaborationn with U Know Me Records - 180g wax with insert ***

Pulitzer Prize-winning American composer John Luther Adams wrote this piece for the Australian Chamber Orchestra. Inspired by his recent relocation to Australia and his travels across the continent - from the Northern Territory and the Red Centre all the way to Tasmania - 'Horizon' is an immersive audio experience exploring the relationship between the visible horizon, with its trees, its mountains and its human structures, and the true horizon: the enveloping circle where the sky meets the earth. How long might it take us to traverse that distance, from where we are to as far as we can see? And what lies beyond that edge of the known? The Australian Chamber Orchestra brings its passion, its virtuosity and its vibrant energy to this exquisitely unique musical experience.

»Vents d’aether« is the first collaborative album by sound artist Jérôme Bouve and composer-performer Delphine Dora. The six pieces are based on live improvisations on organ and harmonium. They were recorded in different churches on the Cotentin peninsula in France’s Normandy region and later enriched with additional field recordings by SA~RA. This adds an extra layer to compositions which were created both in and out of the moment and which quite literally resonate with the histories of the instruments and the buildings that were so integral to their emergence. »Vents d’aether« is to be understood as a dialogue between sound and space that takes place across time and place.

Bouve carried the idea of working with the organs and harmoniums that can be found in the churches and chapels in the Val de Saire in the Northeast of Cotentin around with him for years. When he got to know Dora, he found the perfect musical partner with whom to finally make a record »about the wind, the wood, the stones of the Val de Saire.« In September 2024, the duo embarked on a short but fruitful journey during which they stopped by at several different churches. They recorded hours-long improvised sessions dedicated to »capturing the moment, letting space and time shape gestures and sound, seizing fleeting epiphanies in their greatest simplicity,« as Dora notes in the album’s linernotes.

She took the lead behind the instruments, however Bouve assisted her on drawbars for the last two pieces on »Vents d’aether,« thus adding an even more unusual touch to the recordings. They formed the basis for an album that Dora calls »the testimony of a sensory quest, a collection of memories suspended in time.« Indeed, starting with the epic 20-minute-long titular piece up until the ringing of church bells near the end of the closing piece »Montfarville V,« this overwhelming yet intimate record blurs the boundaries between different times and spaces altogether.

In Soft Power, Funk Assault turns their surgical precision toward the invisible forces that shape modern life - control not through force, but through aesthetics, etiquette, and algorithms. Across five tightly woven tracks, the duo dissects how obedience is engineered through desire, conformity, and digital seduction.

From the sterile luxury of Aesthetics of Desire to the algorithmic exhibitionism of Like Me, Watch Me, and the chilling calm of Obedience Spa, this EP is a reflection on how control has evolved -smoother, quieter, but no less powerful. Soft Power invites listeners to dance, reflect, and perhaps notice the strings they didn't know were there.

Bristol experimental band SUGAR HORSE are delighted to announce that their third album, Not A Sound In Heaven, will be released on 10th April 2026 via Fat Dracula Records.

To celebrate the news, the band are sharing the bruising lead single ‘Secret Speech’, available to stream on all good digital service providers from 12th February 2026.

Also announced today are a run of April 2026 UK album headline tour dates and an appearance at StrangeForms Festival 2026, with tickets on sale now (see below for full listings).

“We are fortunate enough to live in what is generally known as ‘The West’,” says front man Ash Tubb of the lyrical themes behind the new track. “I say fortunate with gritted teeth, because I know—as I’m sure the reader knows—that living in the West isn’t always rosy. The vast majority of people struggle everyday to feed, clothe and house themselves. Let alone receive adequate healthcare, schooling and workers’ rights.”

“We are, however, where all the world’s wealth is hoarded. We are at the centre of Empire. The people outside of this empire—those of the Global South—have had their resources extracted and their populations exploited by our own governments, with very little given back in return. This won’t go on forever. It will inevitably end, as all great empires do.”

“We in The West have a choice to make in the meantime; either help create a new, fairer world, or let the greed of our ruling classes become the undoing of all of us.”

The first glimpse of new material from the quartet, ‘Secret Speech’ starts as Not A Sound In Heaven means to go on—a politically-charged wrecking ball of a song that smashes its way through the often unbelievable chaos and brutality of the 21st century with vitriolic malice.

How do you capture the machinations of the geo-political industrial war machine—and all the horrors that go with it—in the studio, without seeming trite or crass? That’s the question that Sugar Horse have posed themselves on their forthcoming third album Not A Sound In Heaven, and they must surely be one of the only bands in existence capable of delivering on just that premise with both musical substance and cutting philosophical insight.

“Ever since I was born I can remember visions of war, famine, and death being beamed directly into my living room via the magic of television,” says Tubb of the record. “These visions were accompanied by newsreader narratives designed to either humanise or dehumanise the people involved. We humanise our government’s allies and dehumanise their enemies. This is taken as common sense, or even wisdom to some degree. People watch the news and accept it as fact, simple and true.”

“As a person gets older they move in one of three different directions with this acceptance of reality; They embrace what they’re being told, they fall into a kind of trust free nihilism or they learn that there are deeper narratives at play.”

“Not A Sound In Heaven is an aged acceptance of the latter. An acceptance of sitting at the centre of a global empire of both military and economic dimensions. An acceptance that the stories we’re told as a nation, or what’s generally in the zeitgeist, isn’t necessarily reality itself.”

“How does a person cope with the weight—and, frankly, the guilt—of a society that perpetuates such distinct inequalities? A society that thinks a bit of killing abroad is fine, as long as it improves the lives of people at home. You can see why so many choose to embrace it. Hell, nihilism seems pretty sensible. Once a person decides upon pursuing a degree of truth however, things get a bit depressing. Beyond depressing...maddening.”

“This album explores this kind of breezy, frivolous subject matter in a manner that will no doubt be uplifting to the listener and massively financially rewarding for the artist.”

The new album follows on from their standalone AA single ‘What’s Your ETA? Let’s Have A Tear Up’/‘Would You Like Me To Be The Cat?’ which was released late last year as a surprise double drop.

White vinyl. Signed Print Edition. When Jack Tatum began work on Life of Pause, his third full-length to date, he had lofty ambitions: Don't just write another album; create another world. One with enough detail and texture and dimension that a listener could step inside, explore, and inhabit it as they see fit. "I desperately wanted for this to be the kind of record that would displace me," he says. "I'm terrified by the idea of being any one thing, or being of any one genre. And whether or not I accomplish that, I know that my only hope of getting there is to constantly reinvent. That reinvention doesn't need to be drastic, but every new record has to have its own identity, and it has to have a separate set of goals from what came before." What came before: a rightfully acclaimed, much beloved display of singular pop craftsmanship. Tatum's dreamy, unexpected 2010 debut, Gemini, was written while he was still a student at Virginia Tech University. Its equally disarming follow-up, 2012's Nocturne, marked the first time he'd been able to bring his bedroom recordings into a studio, to be performed and fully realized with the help of other musicians. There has been a set of wonderfully expansive EPs in between_each hinting at new directions and punctuating previous ideas_but with Life of Pause, Tatum delivers what he describes as his most "honest" and "mature" work yet, an exquisitely arranged and beautifully recorded collection of songs that marry the immediate with the indefinable. "I allowed myself to go down every route I could imagine even if it ended up not working for me," he says. "I owe it to myself to take as many risks as possible. Songs are songs and you have to allow yourself to be open to everything." After a prolonged period of writing and experimentation, recording took place over several weeks in both Los Angeles and Stockholm, with producer Thom Monahan (Devendra Banhart, Beachwood Sparks) helping Tatum in his search for a more natural and organically textured sound. In Sweden, in a studio once owned by ABBA, they enlisted Peter, Bjorn and John drummer John Ericsson and fellow Swedish Radio Symphony Orchestra veteran Pelle Jacobsson, to contribute drums and marimba. In California, at Monahan's home, Tatum collaborated with Medicine guitarist Brad Laner and a crew of saxophonists. From the hypnotic polyrhythms of "Reichpop" to the sugary howl of "Japanese Alice" to the hallucinogenic R&B of "A Woman's Wisdom," the result is a complete, fully immersive listening environment. "I just kept things really simple, writing as ideas came to me," he says. "There's definitely a different kind of `self' in the picture this time around. There's no real love lost, it's much more a record of coming to terms and defining what it is that you have_your place, your relationships. I view every record as an opportunity to write better songs. At the end of the day it still sounds like me, just new."

Brighton four-piece Lime Garden return with their self-reckoning second album 'Maybe Not Tonight' So Young Records (the record label launched by So Young Magazine).

'Maybe Not Tonight' unfolds as a full night out, charting the pleasures and perils of partying and impulsive decisions.

Vocalist and guitarist Chloe Howard says: “The album is about a night out, from start to finish. As the night progresses, you’re having a great time, until your ex walks in with someone else. You hate the way you look but rather than going home, you press the big red button and get even more drunk. Eventually, you take yourself home full of melancholy, chaos and anger.”

Following their critically acclaimed 2024 debut 'One More Thing', which captured the raw live energy that earned them slots at festivals including Glastonbury and Green Man, Maybe Not Tonight sees Lime Garden expand their signature “wonk-pop” sound upwards and outwards. The result is their most intoxicating and luminous material to date.

Blue Hour is Nick Schofield’s first foray into ambient jazz music. The album is an ambient ode to Miles Davis’ In A Silent Way, and opens up Schofield’s sonic palette to introduce his childhood instrument, drums, with his contemporary ambient-electronic practice. Blue Hour features the intuitive, and totally improvised, trumpet playing of Scott Bevins (No Cosmos, Busty and the Bass).

Schofield grew up playing drums, but turned to creating experimental-electronic music when studying Electroacoustics at Concordia University. Well-known for his signature ambient aesthetic, Schofield has been called a “dazzling electronic artist” by Aquarium Drunkard and a “synth maven” by Constellation Records. Blue Hour marks the first time that he has merged his percussion practice with his ambient electronic explorations, and it is all in the service of reinterpreting Miles Davis’ 1969 watershed recording In a Silent Way.

Schofield improvised all of the drumming and main synthesizer parts over the course of a single day, recording in a church in Ottawa. These foundational layers comprise tender Moog pulses and Roland Juno-6 pads, some of which would not be out of place on the back half of Another Green World or Music Has the Right to Children.

If this was to be a reflection of In a Silent Way, of course there would need to be trumpet. Schofield invited Bevins to record the missing piece of the album during a one day recording session, where Bevins improvised all his trumpet parts having never heard the songs before. Scott Bevins’ contribution gives the music a leading instrumental voice, and his intuitive approach shows a perfect understanding of how to both integrate and elevate the compositions.

Blue Hour is itself a profound reference, an ambient adaptation, a dream realized and an uncanny synthesis of sounds, styles, and personal history.

Blue Hour is Nick Schofield’s first foray into ambient jazz music. The album is an ambient ode to Miles Davis’ In A Silent Way, and opens up Schofield’s sonic palette to introduce his childhood instrument, drums, with his contemporary ambient-electronic practice. Blue Hour features the intuitive, and totally improvised, trumpet playing of Scott Bevins (No Cosmos, Busty and the Bass).

Schofield grew up playing drums, but turned to creating experimental-electronic music when studying Electroacoustics at Concordia University. Well-known for his signature ambient aesthetic, Schofield has been called a “dazzling electronic artist” by Aquarium Drunkard and a “synth maven” by Constellation Records. Blue Hour marks the first time that he has merged his percussion practice with his ambient electronic explorations, and it is all in the service of reinterpreting Miles Davis’ 1969 watershed recording In a Silent Way.

Schofield improvised all of the drumming and main synthesizer parts over the course of a single day, recording in a church in Ottawa. These foundational layers comprise tender Moog pulses and Roland Juno-6 pads, some of which would not be out of place on the back half of Another Green World or Music Has the Right to Children.

If this was to be a reflection of In a Silent Way, of course there would need to be trumpet. Schofield invited Bevins to record the missing piece of the album during a one day recording session, where Bevins improvised all his trumpet parts having never heard the songs before. Scott Bevins’ contribution gives the music a leading instrumental voice, and his intuitive approach shows a perfect understanding of how to both integrate and elevate the compositions.

Blue Hour is itself a profound reference, an ambient adaptation, a dream realized and an uncanny synthesis of sounds, styles, and personal history.

Remixed With Love has set the benchmark for disco reworks for over a decade, with Dave Lee universally recognised as the most trusted name in the field when it comes to respectfully updating dancefloor classics from the original multi-tracks.

With original vinyl editions long deleted and constant demand from DJs and collectors, this brand-new one-off, vinyl-only release has been made possible via a fresh licensing deal with Sony Music, allowing eight of the most requested mixes from the catalogue to be pressed together for the first time.

This is not a repress; it is a bespoke, limited selection, and once the pressing has sold through, it cannot be repeated.

Geoglyph is the new duo project by Alohn and Khey Mysterio, a convergence of two deeply singular practices into a single subterranean signal. Their debut album arrives as the eighth reference on Organic Signs, not as a collection of tracks but as a carved artifact: six inscriptions pressed into vinyl, mapping a sonic territory where time, rhythm and texture are no longer linear, but layered like geological memory.

Through Geoglyph, Alohn and Khey Mysterio convey a message from below, or beyond. A pulse engraved from forgotten times in the basement of reality, reactivated by abyssal basses, vibrating layers and fractured textures. Exhumed from the subterranean strata where psychedelic dub, mineral techno and fractal dubstep fuse into raw energy, their music becomes a point of contact: every beat, every silence, every oscillation acting as a coordinate toward another perception. What unfolds is not simply sound design, but an invocation, rhythms as sigils, timbre as gnosis, signals that seem to arrive already charged with intention.

Across the album, Alohn’s guitar notes fall like cascades through the mix, dissolving at times into controlled feedback and crystallizing into melodic fragments that hover between tension and release. These organic gestures are interwoven with Khey Mysterio’s dense low-end architectures and rhythmic frameworks, creating a constantly shifting terrain: from weightless transmissions and ritualistic voices to moments of overwhelming propulsion where the music suddenly breaks open with tectonic force. The record moves fluidly between meditative suspension and explosive motion, never settling into a single state for long.

A strong undercurrent of what has come to be known as “druidstep” runs through the album, a term coined within the 95 Open Tabs universe to describe a form of dubstep untethered from genre convention, rooted instead in bass as ritual, in groove as invocation. Here it meets dub-techno pulse, psychedelic echoes and high-velocity 4×4 pressure, drawing subtle influence from underground bass cultures without ever becoming referential. The result is a body of work that feels both ancient and forward-leaning, cyclical rather than linear: a living geoglyph that reveals different meanings depending on how (and where) it is read.

As the final movement accelerates into its closing phase, the album releases its energy outward, with frequencies stretched toward their limits, leaving behind the trace of a completed ceremony. In this sense, Geoglyph’s debut stands as a defining moment within the Organic Signs continuum: a record that unfolds rather than explains, offering an experience to be entered, absorbed, and carried. With this release, the label continues to explore new sonic spaces, evolving and expanding while giving deeper meaning to its own essence. A message from beneath the surface, waiting for those willing to tune in.

Más de este género

The album opens with the ominous guitar-driven Hollow Sky, accompanied by its haunting music video's verdant vistas. The song, with Iceglass ghostly vocals, shimmers with that sounds like an Omnichord flittering like sonic firefly lights and brooding bass. This perfectly scores the less traveled wanderings through the dark wooden path of Dante's perdition, leading to the titular well that graces the album cover. The Crater opens with an unsettling riff and bass, with low, repetitive frequencies on the synth create a sense of unease. Here, Iceglass recounts a fatalistic requiem for the king of romance that is cataclysmic and leaves a scar upon the earth. With Fall Industrial Wall, once again, Iceglass channels a silky and Nico-like emotive deadpan; against a dirgelike melody backed by minimal synth, bass, and drum. Almost medieval and plaintive, with its folk droning horns, deep and shallow in their resonance. This song is anachronistic, setting the scene of ruins centuries-old with crumbling edifices strewn about like memories lost in time. With the poetic lyrics of The Chamber do we find the eponymous abyss. Here, dualities are laid bare; besides love, there is heartbreak, and without this sorrow, what meaning would there be to love if one knows not what it is to lose? This song encapsulates the idea that love is heartbreak, and love lost is reaching the deepest chamber of the heart. This is carried through a sombre horn, minimalist drum machine, and deliberate bassline overlaid with Iceglass german and english lyrics. The Well is led in with a softly distorted bassline overlaid with eerie banshee howls give way to Iceglass otherworld vocal refrain, echoing through time as if emanating from a hole in the ground, and encircling that hole is a garden of woe and despair. The sinfully seductive song The Moor features a captivating SAX SOLO courtesy of Perseas; a welcome shift in tone, juxtaposed well with the intensity of Iceglass tenebrous vocal purr. This hitherto unexplored foray into dark sensuality takes the song into sordid mid 80s territory, bringing to mind a dusky drive along a serpentine road, with equally haunting instrumentations straddling time with icy fire. Broken Characters is an acoustic folk interlude featuring Selofan's Dimitris Pavlidis on guitar. Here we find a more gentle approach with its earnest and romantic lyrics. The song's melodic hook is a soft caress along with the forlorn horn elements highlighting Iceglass at her most Nico-sounding vocal yet, singing the sorrowful truth that most artists are indeed broken characters. Chimerical opens with dirgelike synth organs. The chill of winter has befallen the lamentations sung by Iceglass carried by haunting chord progressions and minimal percussion, plaintively beseeching the song's subject to remain elusive, idealistic, and a dreamer. After an album highlighting more Jill than Jack, our male protagonist finally makes his ascent in the sonorous and breathtaking Dark Hill, a masterful march of sweeping synth horns, and trepidatious drum machine with William Maybelline's bellowing voice cracking like thunder, rattling the atmosphere like his heart against his ribs. Spirals swirls in a cautionary knell of cathedral-esque droning synth dirge, with Icarian lyrics shining like a sombre ray of hope; like the sun's rays creeping into the darkest of places. The song, minimalist in its tight percussion, echoes with the solace of Larissa Iceglass vocal litany; invoking elements of the supernatural, almost like a Casio preset sequenced to the beating of an angel's wings.

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.

Green Sleeve 2026 Repress

The earliest musical memories of young Prince Istari are of his mother beautifying the home with her piano playing. She would repeatedly play the tranquil pieces of Erik Satie. Skipping school and sitting in the sun, young Prince would listen to these catchy, calm compositions.

In the first week of 2024, the older Prince Istari rediscovered himself and found a box containing his mother's old sheet music. He transferred them to his computer and began spinning dub versions from them. It became a tapestry. As his mother used to say: "To weave a net, one must first spin." The form of the pieces dictated the direction each would take. The heavy dub transforms here into a light weightiness until it dissolves into a pure piano piece accompanied by a synthesizer. However, the last piece is much older, from the time when Prince was still known as Istari Lasterfahrer. The ending includes a distorted recording of Huberta, Prince's mother, playing a Gnossienne by Satie. At the end, she turns the sheet music, and the record can be turned back to the beginning.

In the essence of its material, this record rejects the Loudness War. The originality of the compositions guided the dub within their tracks, thereby imparting to each a form descriptive of its essence.

Stacey Kent is an American jazz singer in the mould of the greats, with a legion of fans, a host of honors and awards including a Grammy nomination, album sales in excess of 2 million and more than one billion streams, and Platinum, Double-Gold and Gold-selling albums that have reached a series of chart-topping positions.

Stacey, a comparative literature graduate with a passion for music, travelled to Europe to further her studies after receiving her degree from Sarah Lawrence College in NY. Through a series of twists of fate, she found herself in London where she enrolled in a graduate music program at the Guildhall School of Music and Drama, where she met her future husband and musical partner, Jim Tomlinson.

Kent's musical journey began with childhood piano lessons. A keen ear and true voice lead her to search out opportunities to express her love of music. However, nothing suggested the shift from the academic path to the one that propelled her to international recognition as one of the foremost jazz singers of her generation. With a catalogue of 13 studio albums, including the Platinum selling, Grammy-nominated Breakfast On The Morning Tram (Blue Note/EMI 2007) and an impressive list of collaborations, Stacey has graced the stages of nearly 60 countries over the course of her career.

Her worldwide fan base is testimony to her ability to express the emotional heart of her songs with delicately nuanced interpretations that transcend borders and defy categorization. Her unique multi-lingual repertoire includes standards, chanson, Bossa Nova, and originals written by Jim Tomlinson, her saxophonist/producer/composer/arranger husband in collaboration with the Nobel Prize-winning author, Kazuo Ishiguro with whom they have worked since 2006. She has also recorded with Brazilian legends, Marcos Valle, Roberto Menescal and Danilo Caymmi, and the celebrated French string quartet, the Quatuor Ébène.

Stacey's last studio album, Summer Me, Winter Me, was released in November 2023 on Naïve Records. A collection of fans' requests from her as yet unrecorded concert repertoire, Summer Me, Winter Me entered the French jazz charts at number 1 and has quickly established itself as a new highlight in her discography. She now returns with A Time For Love.

Kerrigan are one of the most promising newcomers from Germany playing traditional heavy metal. The band was formed in Freiburg in 2019 by Bruno Schotten (guitars, bass) and Jonas Weber (vocals, guitars). The duo recorded a demo tape consisting of original compositions “Intruders”, “Force And Will” and “Heavy Metal 2020” plus a cover version of “Rest In Peace” by Wolf (UK). »Heavy Metal 2020« was later released by Fucking Kill Records on tape and vinyl (re-issued by High Roller). For their first full-length album »Bloodmoon«, Kerrigan inked a deal with High Roller Records. »Bloodmoon« was recorded with the help of session drummer Jonathan Döring, an old friend of the band, and received very favorable reviews in the metal press when it was released back in 2023. Together with Jakob on bass, Jonathan is now a regular member of Kerrigan. Three years after »Bloodmoon«, it’s time for the follow-up album by the name of »Wayfarer«. “Dreamy, melancholic and pretty versatile,” this is how guitarist and singer Jonas Weber describes the second Kerrigan album. For him, »Wayfarer« is more or less a direct continuation of »Bloodmoon«. Who knows, maybe Kerrigan have indeed achieved to write a modern heavy metal classic!

Kerrigan are one of the most promising newcomers from Germany playing traditional heavy metal. The band was formed in Freiburg in 2019 by Bruno Schotten (guitars, bass) and Jonas Weber (vocals, guitars). The duo recorded a demo tape consisting of original compositions “Intruders”, “Force And Will” and “Heavy Metal 2020” plus a cover version of “Rest In Peace” by Wolf (UK). »Heavy Metal 2020« was later released by Fucking Kill Records on tape and vinyl (re-issued by High Roller). For their first full-length album »Bloodmoon«, Kerrigan inked a deal with High Roller Records. »Bloodmoon« was recorded with the help of session drummer Jonathan Döring, an old friend of the band, and received very favorable reviews in the metal press when it was released back in 2023. Together with Jakob on bass, Jonathan is now a regular member of Kerrigan. Three years after »Bloodmoon«, it’s time for the follow-up album by the name of »Wayfarer«. “Dreamy, melancholic and pretty versatile,” this is how guitarist and singer Jonas Weber describes the second Kerrigan album. For him, »Wayfarer« is more or less a direct continuation of »Bloodmoon«. Who knows, maybe Kerrigan have indeed achieved to write a modern heavy metal classic!

“I wanted to explore how a big band can cry — not only through sorrow, but through joy, tenderness, and release. Music can hold grief and celebration at the same time, and Paid To Cry lives in that space.”
Nils Berg has been a cornerstone of the Swedish jazz scene since the turn of the millennium. Known internationally as an innovative bandleader and collaborator, this release places the spotlight — for the first time — on Berg’s work as a composer for large ensemble.
Paid To Cry is the result of an intensive collaboration with the Norrbotten Big Band, one of Scandinavia’s most acclaimed jazz orchestras. Drawing melodic clarity and emotional directness from composers such as Burt Bacharach and Kurt Weill, while embracing the raw courage of Björk and Sun Ra, and the pulsating minimalism of Steve Reich, the music forms a sound world that feels both familiar and entirely its own.
This is contemporary big band music without nostalgia: physical, vulnerable, and expansive. Written with deep trust in the individual voices of the ensemble, the compositions allow space for both collective force and intimate expression. And what an ensemble to breathe life — and tears — into this music.
With fifteen musicians moving as one organism, Paid To Cry carries enough air, rhythm, and resonance to lift the listener far beyond genre boundaries. It is music that dares to be emotional without explanation, and powerful without grandstanding — inviting the listener to feel first, and understand later.

Death Is Not The End present a further volume of Arja Kastinen's eerie amalgamations of 110 year old wax cylinders with her own meticulously transcribed takes, this time focussing in on Armas Otto Väisänen's field recordings of kantele player Iivana Mišukka (b. 1861 d.1919).

"Ivana Mišukka (1861–1919) was one of the Karelian kantele players recorded by the folk music researcher Armas Otto Väisänen on wax cylinders in 1916 and 1917. In the early 20th century, the remote areas of Border Karelia were undergoing the final phase of a transformation in musical culture, with the ancient runo song tradition giving way to newer forms of music. This transition is reflected in Mišukka's repertoire and choice of instrument. The ancient small kantele, hollowed out of a single piece of wood, was already rare at the turn of the century. Mišukka's kantele was a new type of instrument with 26 strings, constructed of several parts, but he played it using the traditional plucking technique. Like other Border Karelian kantele players, his repertoire consisted of music rooted in runosong culture, as well as newer dances and songs from the east and west. Most of the recorded material falls into the latter category.

Ivan Bogdanov Mišukka was born out of wedlock in Suursara village, Suistamo, on 1 May 1861. He began playing the kantele at the age of five or six, quickly mastering the instrument. In adulthood, he was considered one of the area's best master players. Mišukka was landless for most of his life and lived in different parts of the Suistamo parish. His first wife, Tekla Markintytär, died in 1897 at the age of 40, and his second wife, Jevdokia Filipintytär Jeminen, died in 1907 at the age of 50. Seven children were born from the first marriage, two of whom died young. The third wife, Maria Ignatintytär Gurnan (Kuurnanen), was a well-known master of lamentations. Together with Maria, Iivana Mišukka worked as a tenant farmer in the village of Suursara. Mišukka suffered from rheumatism, which prevented him from participating in physical work like Maria. This was apparently partly the reason why Iivana Mišukka went to earn extra money by playing the kantele on gig trips. He often had other traditional artists from Suistamo as his travelling companions, such as the runosingers Konstantin Kuokka and Iivana Onoila. Iivana Mišukka died in Leppäsyrjä village, Suistamo, on 18 May 1919 at the age of 58, and his kantele was donated to Teppana Jänis.

Mišukka only used 14 of the 26 strings on his kantele, playing the same tunes either a fourth higher or lower. He tuned his kantele to the major scale using fifths, except for a low seventh scale degree on the upper strings, but not below the fundamental. Since he did not use the seventh note of the scale on the upper strings at all, he could use the major scale both lower and a fourth higher with this tuning. According to Mišukka, the sound of higher, or 'finer', strings is 'more beautiful', while that of lower ones is 'greater'. Among runosingers, the size of the thirds varied, ranging from major to minor to neutral. A similar phenomenon can be observed in kantele tunings, where the third, sixth and seventh scale degrees vary in a comparable way.

During a meeting, Väisänen suggested that Mišukka play the smaller kantele belonging to Konstantin Kuokka. The idea was to bring it closer to the horn to improve the recording quality. However, the kantele was completely out of tune, and now Mišukka tuned it to the Lydian scale (track 18).

Using the old plucking technique, Mišukka placed his right middle finger on the fundamental tone, his right index finger on the second scale degree, his left middle finger on the third scale degree and his left index finger on the fourth scale degree, and his right thumb on the fifth. The thumb also played the notes above the fifth note of the scale. As Mišukka remarked to Väisänen: 'Peigaloll' tuloo enemb ruadoa' (the thumb has to do more work). However, he did not use the seventh note of the scale on the upper strings at all. Below the fundamental note, he played the seventh and sixth notes of the scale with his right middle finger of and the fifth note of the scale with his right ring finger. This fifth scale degree below the fundamental is almost always used as a drone. Sometimes, when the melody required it, Mišukka, like other players, also varied the fingering. He would also occasionally strike the same string with the side of his fingernail after plucking it.

The wax cylinder recordings of Karelian kantele players are kept in the archives of the Finnish Literature Society in Helsinki, Finland. Copies were made of them onto reel-to-reel tapes in both the 1960s and 1980s. The 1960s copies are mono and the 1980s copies are stereo. However, not all kantele recordings from these decades have survived.

The sound of the kantele is difficult to hear in wax cylinder recordings due to its low volume, and it occasionally becomes completely obscured by noise. During the copying process, the cylinder sometimes rotates unevenly, resulting in breaks or jumps in the music. Additionally, the rotation speed of the cylinder in the copies does not correspond to the performance speed of the original music, which alters the pitch. However, since Väisänen's precise notes are available in the archive, it is possible to deduce the melodies, their speed, and the tuning level of the kantele in the recordings. Of the copies of the original recordings from the 1960s and 1980s, I have selected the one that best met the requirements of this publication and adjusted the speed of the recording to align with Väisänen's notes. To enhance the listening experience, I have replayed the songs, which now partly overlap the old recordings on this release."

— Arja Kastinen

Death Is Not The End present a further volume of Arja Kastinen's eerie amalgamations of 110 year old wax cylinders with her own meticulously transcribed takes, this time focussing in on Armas Otto Väisänen's field recordings of kantele player Iivana Mišukka (b. 1861 d.1919).

"Ivana Mišukka (1861–1919) was one of the Karelian kantele players recorded by the folk music researcher Armas Otto Väisänen on wax cylinders in 1916 and 1917. In the early 20th century, the remote areas of Border Karelia were undergoing the final phase of a transformation in musical culture, with the ancient runo song tradition giving way to newer forms of music. This transition is reflected in Mišukka's repertoire and choice of instrument. The ancient small kantele, hollowed out of a single piece of wood, was already rare at the turn of the century. Mišukka's kantele was a new type of instrument with 26 strings, constructed of several parts, but he played it using the traditional plucking technique. Like other Border Karelian kantele players, his repertoire consisted of music rooted in runosong culture, as well as newer dances and songs from the east and west. Most of the recorded material falls into the latter category.

Ivan Bogdanov Mišukka was born out of wedlock in Suursara village, Suistamo, on 1 May 1861. He began playing the kantele at the age of five or six, quickly mastering the instrument. In adulthood, he was considered one of the area's best master players. Mišukka was landless for most of his life and lived in different parts of the Suistamo parish. His first wife, Tekla Markintytär, died in 1897 at the age of 40, and his second wife, Jevdokia Filipintytär Jeminen, died in 1907 at the age of 50. Seven children were born from the first marriage, two of whom died young. The third wife, Maria Ignatintytär Gurnan (Kuurnanen), was a well-known master of lamentations. Together with Maria, Iivana Mišukka worked as a tenant farmer in the village of Suursara. Mišukka suffered from rheumatism, which prevented him from participating in physical work like Maria. This was apparently partly the reason why Iivana Mišukka went to earn extra money by playing the kantele on gig trips. He often had other traditional artists from Suistamo as his travelling companions, such as the runosingers Konstantin Kuokka and Iivana Onoila. Iivana Mišukka died in Leppäsyrjä village, Suistamo, on 18 May 1919 at the age of 58, and his kantele was donated to Teppana Jänis.

Mišukka only used 14 of the 26 strings on his kantele, playing the same tunes either a fourth higher or lower. He tuned his kantele to the major scale using fifths, except for a low seventh scale degree on the upper strings, but not below the fundamental. Since he did not use the seventh note of the scale on the upper strings at all, he could use the major scale both lower and a fourth higher with this tuning. According to Mišukka, the sound of higher, or 'finer', strings is 'more beautiful', while that of lower ones is 'greater'. Among runosingers, the size of the thirds varied, ranging from major to minor to neutral. A similar phenomenon can be observed in kantele tunings, where the third, sixth and seventh scale degrees vary in a comparable way.

During a meeting, Väisänen suggested that Mišukka play the smaller kantele belonging to Konstantin Kuokka. The idea was to bring it closer to the horn to improve the recording quality. However, the kantele was completely out of tune, and now Mišukka tuned it to the Lydian scale (track 18).

Using the old plucking technique, Mišukka placed his right middle finger on the fundamental tone, his right index finger on the second scale degree, his left middle finger on the third scale degree and his left index finger on the fourth scale degree, and his right thumb on the fifth. The thumb also played the notes above the fifth note of the scale. As Mišukka remarked to Väisänen: 'Peigaloll' tuloo enemb ruadoa' (the thumb has to do more work). However, he did not use the seventh note of the scale on the upper strings at all. Below the fundamental note, he played the seventh and sixth notes of the scale with his right middle finger of and the fifth note of the scale with his right ring finger. This fifth scale degree below the fundamental is almost always used as a drone. Sometimes, when the melody required it, Mišukka, like other players, also varied the fingering. He would also occasionally strike the same string with the side of his fingernail after plucking it.

The wax cylinder recordings of Karelian kantele players are kept in the archives of the Finnish Literature Society in Helsinki, Finland. Copies were made of them onto reel-to-reel tapes in both the 1960s and 1980s. The 1960s copies are mono and the 1980s copies are stereo. However, not all kantele recordings from these decades have survived.

The sound of the kantele is difficult to hear in wax cylinder recordings due to its low volume, and it occasionally becomes completely obscured by noise. During the copying process, the cylinder sometimes rotates unevenly, resulting in breaks or jumps in the music. Additionally, the rotation speed of the cylinder in the copies does not correspond to the performance speed of the original music, which alters the pitch. However, since Väisänen's precise notes are available in the archive, it is possible to deduce the melodies, their speed, and the tuning level of the kantele in the recordings. Of the copies of the original recordings from the 1960s and 1980s, I have selected the one that best met the requirements of this publication and adjusted the speed of the recording to align with Väisänen's notes. To enhance the listening experience, I have replayed the songs, which now partly overlap the old recordings on this release."

— Arja Kastinen

&Co. debut on A Quiet Village. The US-based trio drop the third release on Quiet Village’s eponymous imprint March 20th. &Co. Is a project from multi-hyphenate and Bianca Chandon founder, Alex Olson, pianist, composer and producer Alberto Bof (known for his work on ®Oscar ®Bafta ®Golden Globe and ®Grammy award winning ’A Star is Born’) and DJ/fashion luminary, Paul Takahashi. The trio’s second release, ‘Staycation’ follows 2015’s ‘Best of Friends’, and sees these rare talents create a two-tracker that explores a uniquely evocative, cinematic and dubby Balearic aesthetic. ‘Staycation began as a follow-up to the first EP, Best Friends.

As a result, ‘Staycation’ came together in fragments. The first track was built over a handful of short studio sessions, each only about an hour long, driven by brainstorming and reworking ideas. With Alex away, Alberto and I continued refining the piece in Los Angeles, sharing updates for Alex’s approval until it was completed. The track remained unmastered and was quietly circulated to a small circle as a promotional piece. The second track, “Lean Like a Cello,” was initially conceptualized together. However, with Alex now based in New York and less available, we completed the arrangement in Los Angeles, sending versions back and forth for Alex’s input and feedback. Nearly a decade later, the idea resurfaced, and the recordings were finally mastered and released. A friend, Justin Van Der Volgen, handled the mastering. What began as a plan to give the tracks away as a promo evolved when Justin encouraged the group to shop the release. With help from Eric Duncan of Rub N Tug, the music reached Matt (Edwards, aka Radio Slave/ 1/2 of Quiet Village).

Ten years after the first sessions, Staycation arrives as a document of distance, collaboration, and time. A project shaped as much by separation as by shared intention.’ (Paul Takahashi, Feb 2026)
A piece of art from a powerhouse creative team operating at the intersection of skate culture, music, design and fashion, ‘Staycation’ by &Co. Arrives on The Quiet Village 12” and digital/streaming on March 20th.

Tim Maia’s self-titled 1973 album is one of those records that hits you from the very first groove and doesn’t let go. Originally released on Polydor Brazil, this was the fourth in a series of Tim’s self-titled albums and many fans and critics still consider it the crown jewel. Packed with irresistible hooks, lush arrangements, and that unmistakable Tim Maia swagger, the album captures the singer at the peak of his creative powers.If you’re new to Tim Maia, here’s the quick story: born in Rio de Janeiro, Tim was a larger-than-life icon whose music married American soul and funk with Brazilian samba and pop long before “fusion” was a buzzword. A true musical polymath, he absorbed everything from Curtis Mayfield to Motown and translated it into a sound entirely his own, gritty, passionate, and full of groove.



He didn’t just introduce soul to Brazil; he made it Brazilian.On this 1973 release, Tim pushes everything up a notch. The arrangements are bigger, slicker, and surprisingly majestic, without losing the raw spirit that earned him a devoted following. From the moment ‘Réu Confesso’ opens the album, you know you’re in for something special—smooth, funky, and heartfelt in all the right ways. The bittersweet ‘Gostava Tanto de Você’ remains one of his most beloved classics, while ‘O Balanço’ bursts with Brazilian flavor that practically dares you not to move. And with tracks like ‘Do Your Thing, Behave Yourself’ and ‘Over Again,’ Tim shows just how naturally the soul idiom fit him, even when he switched to English.This record has everything: deep grooves, soaring strings, magnetic vocals, and that unmistakable sense of joy that Tim Maia carried into every session. It’s a front-to-back winner—one of those albums that deserves a spot not just in Brazilian music history, but in any collection that celebrates great soul, funk, and timeless grooves.If you’re a longtime fan, it’s a reminder of why Tim Maia is legendary. If you’re discovering him for the first time, this is the perfect place to start. Either way: press play, turn it up, and let Tim do his thing.