quête:la la she can

The record is largely sung in Scots language, one of Scotland’s three official languages along with Gaelic and English. “Scots gives me a way of expressing myself which is connected directly with the landscapes I love. It brings the songs alive and it is a fascinating language. The name of the record is in Scots - Forefowk means the people who came before, or ancestors. When we say ‘mind me,’ we can mean a few things- remind, remember, watch over or care for me. The record explores how tradition needs to be constantly reconnected with, built upon, looked after, and shared.”
Quinie sings with a style inspired by Scottish Traveller singers. “I began singing unaccompanied Scots Song in 2015 after hearing Scots Traveller singer Sheila Stewart on the radio. Initially I felt like I shouldn't sing these songs because I'm not a Traveller, and I saw people around me doing that in a way that made me uncomfortable. But on the other hand this music made sense to me and I felt driven to learn. Over the years I have met Traveller friends who taught me that settled people sharing these songs could contribute to raising awareness. Scottish Travellers are marginalised and discriminated against in modern Scotland, despite being custodians of so many of our important traditions. So I started to perform them and tell this story. From there I built on my repertoire and started writing my own songs”.
To develop this record, Quinie travelled across Argyll with her horse. They went on a pilgrimage of sorts through the ancient landscapes of the West of Scotland to explore the interconnected relationships between people, ancestors, animals, and place. The album’s vinyl release is accompanied by a book and film, documenting this unusual research process.
Forefowk, Mind Me was recorded in August 2024 at The Big Shed in Highland Perthshire with support from Creative Scotland. Quinie is accompanied by an ensemble of musicians: Ailbhe Nic Oireachtaigh (viola), Oliver Pitt (duduk, bouzouki, percussion), Harry Górski-Brown (small pipes, violin), and Stevie Jones (double bass, recording, and mixing). Each of these artists brings their own distinctive voice, bridging contemporary experimental practice with worlds of traditional and early music.

Straddling an intriguing intersection of Drum & Bass, Jazz, Fusion and unidentifiable electronica, ‘You Won't Find Your Way From Here’ is the debut album from Jhauk.

An extremely talented multi-instrumentalist from Sheffield, UK, Jhauk came to Blu Mar Ten’s attention when, in 2017, he created a wild prog-rock inflected remix of BMT’s track ‘Titans’
Further conversations with Jhauk revealed the depth of his unorthodox approach to electronic music and unearthed a treasure trove of production skills, culminating in the album before you.

Oscillating between the late-night, moody calm of late 50s Miles Davis, John Coltrane & Bill Evans, the riotous 70s instrumentation of Weather Report, the modern cool stylings of Matthew Halsall and the gritty edges of modern D&B production, it’s scarcely believable that this collection of tracks came from one person working alone in their studio. With tempos and time signatures skittering all over the place, Jhauk uses genres as catalysts rather than containers, he finds the interesting stuff in the hinterlands of their structural relationships and tensions. 

Talking about the album, Jhauk has strong opinions:

“Drum & Bass emerged as club music, and club music comes with its own logic. Specific structures, specific build-ups, a formula that supports that context. 
That's fair enough, but almost 40 years later, why is 99% of D&B still made the exact same way when 99% of the time it's never heard in a club? The same structure, the same formula, barely any development beyond the core idea. Tracks where you can hear 10 seconds of the drop and know almost beat-for-beat how the next 5 minutes sound. No real musical depth or exploration. People regurgitating the same material ad-nauseum but never actually saying anything for themselves. 
This period of composition for me was about taking what I love about D&B, the rhythmic energy and potential for creative freedom it presents and really stretching it to its limits. Of taking drum & bass as a starting point and seeing where it ends up without an idea of what that destination might be. Most people would probably never call a lot of the results D&B, but that's okay because it was never the point.”

 
Dripping with melancholy, euphoria, longing and pure urgency ‘You Won't Find Your Way From Here’ is unlike anything else you’ll hear this year. The sound of an artist entirely unconcerned with impressing peers or performing on ‘socials’; you're hearing a true musician at work, expressing ideas through the skill of his hands, mind and ears. The album’s secrets aren’t revealed with a single play-through, but bears (or even requires) multiple listens to expose its layers.
In previous times, they called this ‘art'.

Wrapped Up In Time is the fourth vinyl release by Night Foundation; the solo project of Intermedia artist and Noir Age label owner Richard Vergez. An existential suite of sounds comprised of analogue synth and drum machine, guitar, clarinet, tape loops and other assorted space racket.

The LP offers solo, instrumental passages punctuated by duets with Noir Age alumni: Underground vocal legend Little Annie reputable for her past collaborations with Coil, Nurse With Wound, Swans and countless others, lends her lived-in pipes for Blue Garage; along with Belgrade-based sound artist Zhe Pechorin for Night Blooming Jasmine; a tribute to our passed brother David Lynch.

Both rhythmic and expansive, Hinterland searching; Wrapped Up In Time is a processing of grief, memory, and the current state of our revolving loop of life. Recorded in South Florida, 2024-2025.

Mastered by Giuseppe Ielasi of Senufo Editions.

For fans of: Coil, King Tubby, Dead Can Dance, Scorn, Sabres of Paradise, and Vicious Pink

Limited edition of 100 on black vinyl with full color matte jackets

On his sixth LP In Another, Toronto-based, Japanese-born, musician and composer Masahiro Takahashi (髙橋 政宏) continues the collaborative expansion of his sonic universe that listeners witness on his 2023 release, Humid Sun. Here he enlists a rotating ensemble of ten guest artists from Toronto’s vibrant music community, including his labelmate Joseph Shabason, who also serves as the album’s co-producer and engineer.

Spurred by his longtime admiration for chamber pop spanning the High Llamas and Free Design to the Beach Boys, Takahashi deviates from the underlying processes of his past two outings, trading Ableton sequences for lead sheets, focusing on creating robust melodic and harmonic foundations first. This difference is audible straight away; the album opens with a dialog between upright piano and plucked double bass that’s so gentle and transparent you can hear the breath of the players.

On his sixth LP In Another, Toronto-based, Japanese-born, musician and composer Masahiro Takahashi (髙橋 政宏) continues the collaborative expansion of his sonic universe that listeners witness on his 2023 release, Humid Sun. Here he enlists a rotating ensemble of ten guest artists from Toronto’s vibrant music community, including his labelmate Joseph Shabason, who also serves as the album’s co-producer and engineer.

Spurred by his longtime admiration for chamber pop spanning the High Llamas and Free Design to the Beach Boys, Takahashi deviates from the underlying processes of his past two outings, trading Ableton sequences for lead sheets, focusing on creating robust melodic and harmonic foundations first. This difference is audible straight away; the album opens with a dialog between upright piano and plucked double bass that’s so gentle and transparent you can hear the breath of the players.

Few artists can conjure up the sort of spirituality that Fred P manages whenever he turns on his machines - and this brand new label from the artist means we'll be getting a shedload more of it. Sometimes it's deep, muggy, insular, at others more outward-looking and cosmic. And that's what we have here - emotionally dense sounds on 'Galaxy Walk (Journey mix)' with jazzy motifs off in the distance, spoken words in the foreground and dancing percussion that is optimistic and hopeful. 'Modern Art Talk' is just as balmy as you journey through a sound world that feels as infinite as space itself, while Fred himself muses on his art. 'Inner Channels (edit 4)' is a dusty shuffler marbled with muted chords and brighter melodic stars that feel impromptu and layered in live.

Seit der Veröffentlichung seines von Kritikern hochgelobten Debütalbums 'Come Around and Love Me' im Jahr 2023 hat Jalen Ngonda eine kometenhafte Karriere hingelegt. Der Song 'If You Don’t Want My Love' wurde zum viralen Hit und wurde bis heute 253 Millionen Mal gestreamt. Jalen war in einer Reihe von großen Fernsehsendungen zu Gast, darunter 'The Graham Norton Show', 'The Late Show with Stephen Colbert' und 'Later with Jools Holland'. Er war Support-Act für Thee Sacred Souls auf ihrer US-Tournee und hat als Headliner unzählige Clubkonzerte auf der ganzen Welt ausverkauft. Jetzt, im Jahr 2026, während die Glut seines Debüts noch hell lodert, bereitet sich Jalen Ngonda auf die Veröffentlichung seines mit Spannung erwarteten zweiten Albums 'Doctrine Of Love' vor.
Die harte Arbeit und die unermüdlichen Tourneen nach seinem Debüt haben sein Handwerk gestärkt. Seine Botschaft: 'Die Lehre der Liebe besagt, dass jeder Gedanke und jede Handlung in erster Linie von Mitgefühl für andere geleitet sein sollte, denn Liebe ist der höchste Maßstab für den Wert eines Menschen.' Die Titel des neuen Albums sind aus diesem Credo entstanden. Mit seinem tiefen Wissen und seiner Liebe zum klassischen Soul vermittelt Jalen Ngonda Authentizität in Hülle und Fülle. 'Doctrine Of Love' verbindet Pop-Sensibilität und soulige Melodien mit roher Kraft und Groove und erweitert die orchestralen Arrangements von 'Come Around And Love Me' um bläserreiche und gospelartige Backing Vocals, wodurch ein äußerst stilvolles Beispiel für moderne Soul-Kunst entsteht. Tipp!

A defining transmission in the history of Skylax Records. Originally released across different moments of the Skylax catalogue, these recordings are now assembled as the final chapter of the Skylax House Explosion series — a project exploring the architecture, memory and survival mechanisms embedded within house music culture. The record opens with Move D’s “Outer Rim 64”, originally released in 2018 as part of the Skylax House Explosion narrative. Suspended between motion and distance, the track establishes the conceptual perimeter of this final chapter — a space where rhythm no longer functions only as propulsion, but as orientation. Here the listener stands at the outer edge of the dancefloor’s architecture, where structure persists even as its original social conditions begin to disappear. The sequence continues with Hardrock Striker’s “Motorik Life (DJ Sprinkles Dub)”, originally released in 2011. Rather than operating as a conventional remix, the Dub reinforces the motorik continuum of the original composition, transforming repetition into endurance. DJ Sprinkles preserves the infrastructural skeleton of the dancefloor — its capacity to sustain bodies through duration alone, without narrative resolution or emotional release. The record culminates with “Motorik Life (DJ Sprinkles Mountain Of Despair Remix)”, one of the most politically explicit works ever associated with Skylax Records. Through the relentless repetition of the phrase “mountain of despair,” Terre Thaemlitz dismantles the traditional function of dance music, transforming remix culture into structural critique. Referencing Martin Luther King Jr.’s famous metaphor, the remix removes the promise of redemption and leaves only the architecture of struggle. The dancefloor is no longer presented as escape, but as a temporary condition of survival. Together these recordings reveal house music’s true function: not to resolve despair, but to create temporary conditions in which bodies can continue to exist despite it.

AFTER THE DANCEFLOOR

you cannot preserve a dancefloor
by archiving its sound
because the dancefloor was never sound

it was bodies
finding temporary protection
inside systems designed to erase them

house music was never a genre
it was a survival strategy

when the lights disappeared
the structures remained
and so did we

High-definition world building collides with incisive physical urgency around 170 BPM as Pianeti Sintetici makes his first appearance on Samurai Music. Davide Perrone's vivid production style found a more downtempo outlet on last year's release for Samurai sub label Saibai, but he pivots naturally towards the weightier presence of the Exoverse with a richly rendered suite of sonic systems teeming with life and pockmarked with mystery. The spacious drums that lead on 'Agilus' have an acoustic, in-the-room quality that instantly grounds the track before the myriad layers of synthesis start spiralling skywards, pitting twinkling pads against rapid, undulating acid wielded with assured control. By way of contrast 'Mimoide' burrows downwards, using needlepoint marks to puncture the brooding beds of sound looming in the middle distance. At the same time, Perrone weaves lithe, rubbery shapes across the foreground of the mix for a three-dimensional expression you can almost reach out and touch. Opening up a B side tipped towards a mellower pace, 'Living Plasma' leans into a 4/4 meditation as a vessel for another distinctive tapestry of modulating sound design from Perrone's seemingly infinite sonic resources. 'Exoverse' edges towards a more melodic standpoint with its teased flutters of arpeggio that sneak in and out of the mix and a harmonic dimension to the atmospheric layers that shape out the size of the track. Across all four pieces, the sheer detail at play in the Pianeti Sintetici universe is mind-boggling. By rights it should be a busy, stress-inducing experience, but Perrone's gift lies in the ability to take a macro view on these incredibly complex creations, zooming out by boiling the parts down into a symbiotic whole that feels patient and considered. The reward for the listener comes from taking the time to zoom in and marvel at every micro detail writhing across the surface.

Mr Bongo are thrilled to have one of the leading lights in contemporary soul joining the label. Melbourne-based vocalist, musician, and songwriter Ella Thompson is an artist whose name is being championed by some of the best in the business. She’s been building a reputation as one to watch, with two standout releases on Hopestreet Recordings, Domino EP in 2023 and Ripple On The Wing LP in 2024, alongside a heavy touring schedule and a stacked list of support slots and collaborations.

For this new 7” single, Ella collaborates with a selection of artists at the forefront of Naarm/Melbourne’s soulful DIY community. Featuring members of Surprise Chef and Karate Boogaloo, Liam McGorry from Temporary Blessings (College Of Knowledge) joins Ella as co-writer and co-producer, with go-to Melbourne engineer Henry Jenkins also producing and recording the track.

Bridging the worlds of classic and contemporary soul, Ella’s songwriting is drenched in emotion and personal experience. With a timeless feel that is hard to tie to any particular period, she has crafted a sound that instantly hits deep. It’s warm, tasteful and distinctly Ella. That talent has also seen her tour with Mark Ronson, and support other contemporary greats like Jalen Ngonda, Lee Fields, and Thee Sacred Souls.

‘Promise To Keep’ is the first taste of Ella’s new material on this 7” single. An irrepressible upbeat groover that echoes mid-to-late-sixties vocal groups. That influence though never overpowers Ella’s own unique creative voice or distinct sense of self. She draws from it, but the colour is all her own. The song tells a story of being carried by the current that keeps us moving, giving us courage. A commitment to oneself that speaks to action shaped by vision, and the pull of following what feels correct even when the distance is far.

The flip side finds Ella in a different mood. ‘Change Of Heart’ is a heavy sweet-soul ballad. Rich in drama, Ella’s falsetto vocals build to a stunning climax in the final section, with triumphant horns that signal the release of letting go. The lyrics reflect on temporality and impermanence, and the way moments can be missed or arrive with synchronicity. It’s that bittersweet paradox of triumph and sadness, where everything contains its opposite: absence and presence, innocence and experience. The song is underpinned by a brooding production quality and atmospheric, beat-heavy flavour that Surprise Chef and cinematic soul fans will relish.

Mixed by Wayne Gordon (Daptone, Womack Sisters), ‘Promise to Keep’ and ‘Change of Heart’ are a glimpse of things to come from Ella. Keep an eye open for more new music incoming from this phenomenal artist at the top of her game.

The world of discovering Soul music and artists can lead to sheer moments of jubilation. The thought of igniting a long lost sound, reviving the energy of a once exuberant individual . But not every story that's told is filled with joy. Some are peppered along the way with struggles and heartache. Over time artists have battled with over powering label owners, record executives who just don't back what you do. The story of Tommy Hill is one such story. Tommy along with friend and longtime collaborator Ricky Tarbo had a deal with Motown records back in the early 1980's which turned sour very quickly. His release "Flame"/"Super Star Of Love' was dropped pretty quickly with no promotion and record boss Sylvia Rhône calling the shots within the duo questioning skin colour within the group and even trying to get vocals wiped off the release to sabotage it.

This said the single didn't amount to much and nothing else was recorded for Motown records. The duo did record some 4 demo's in LA before Tommy headed to re-record them again in New York circa 1982.

The A side has never been released until now, which is such a crying shame as the quality is so damn good. It's an uptempo boogie cut called "All My Love" which we gave a sexy 45 mix so you get some slamming synth work half way in. Tommy Hill's vocal range is nothing but astonishing. Just check out the 2 step ballad of "Can't Get Over You", which was recorded and released back in 1980 by The James Simpson penetration Band written by Tommy Hill, who went back into the studio 2 years later to give the song much more depth not only within the production but also to his vocal range. Tommy Hill headed back to LA after not securing a record deal and a few years later tried to get this singing career back on track. Like many of the artists who have moved on to a higher place Tommy succumbed to his own mental health issues and took his life. We hope this record does you proud Tommy Hill

dgoHn (pronounced “John") is the moniker of John Cunnane, who hails from somewhere between London and Essex. ‘Tessares,’ his fourth album but his first for Planet Mu, is playful, unconventional drum & bass that contrasts sparse effects and melodic elements with complex drumfunk and breakcore. He often uses unusual time signatures and head-spinning polyrhythms inspired by jazz and math rock, sometimes within the same track. Somehow he makes it sound effortless, and occasionally pretty as well, keeping a fine balance that never feels punishing; exploratory without getting lost.

He's built a name for himself over the last two decades performing live at festivals and events around the world, while collaborating with fellow artists such as Macc, Nic TVG, Jodey Kendrick and Badun as well as solo releases.


The album opens with ‘Waiting For’ which combines complex breaks with melodic fills, spacey effects and dubbed out vocals that feel like snatches of lost conversations - a combination he uses throughout the album giving it an eerie touch of humanity. Lead single ‘I Couldn't Remember So I Made Something Up’ is in 15/8 time. It feels like a conventional melodic drum & bass track, but the time signature disrupts the listeners’ expectations, while the detuned melody eases its sense of dislocation. ’Whistling On A Tuesday’ opens with a light echoey piano countdown into bass stabs which introduce heavy whirling amen breakbeats that switch between 180 and 120 bpm. ’Holly Can Swim But She Doesn’t Really Like It’ is the most rhythmically challenging track here. It feels hard to hang on to as its knotty breaks play out over bell chimes, like something Autechre might make if jungle was in their DNA. The album ends on the dubbed-out drumfunk of ‘7 Years Or More,’ with an arrangement that builds a filmic, dusty atmosphere of chimes and electric guitar, layering in vocals, vinyl crackle and echoing synth giving way to tough drums, before all that is taken away so that just a voice remains.

Newly signed to indie heavyweights Heist or Hit (Westside Cowboy, Her’s) EP two: ‘Marionette’ has been produced by Daniel Fox (Sprints, Melts, Psychotic Monks, Naked Lungs, Nerves, Ronan Group) and it’s set to be seminal. A set text for future musicians with aspirations of innovation. “The theme of the marionette is present throughout each song, involving some aspect of a power struggle and a lack of control within oneself.” Opener ‘Chocolate’ bounces in on a synth line as slippery and hyperactive as anything Aphex Twin ever cooked up. Crispy offbeat electronic cymbals play counterpoint to atonal guitars and pugilistic drumming before the track dry-wretches its way into a nauseating cacophony of euphoria. It’s a tale of crippling social anxiety and a preference for an unflattering, lonely reality. The muted guitar pluck in the intro to ‘Crows’ is the sonic equivalent of biting one’s nails. An anxious, involuntary tic that speaks to the theme of guilt, especially surrounding digital culture: “children can watch what they please, just with viewer discretion.” The track lurches between textures, weaving themselves in and out of focus. Guitars blare like sirens, interrupting paranoid urban centres at 2am, while the bass sounds like the inside of an insomniac’s head on day four of a REM drought.

The metallic intent of ‘Discipline’ squats on the chest as though Steve Albini is your sleep paralysis demon. The pain of accountability spews from the industrial regularity of the beat, apt to the narrative of a soldier coming to terms with the lies that made him commit atrocious, violent acts. EP closer ‘Servant’ starts like a Spectrum loading screen. Dial-up modem-coded, it pauses for moments of white-noise-vomit and existential bloops. Fitting for a more abstract take on the idea of the power struggle filtered through religious imagery and self-awareness of one’s own actions, coupled with an inability to exert control over them. The band pile on the textures with sadistic glee until the evil is exorcized and the modem melts. Connection severed. Across the EP, vocalist Joseph has a tendency to hyper-fixate on themes of control and unhappiness. Creating rooms in which doom and isolation ricochet. Not that it’s all bad news “we like to think that by shedding light on the negative, it commands a sense of hope.” Influenced as much by the liminal-space horror and uncanny dread of Silent Hill as the existentialist theatre of The Twilight Zone or the absurdity of Twin Peaks, they occupy a space between unease and impulse. Makeshift Art Bar are not a band interested in being liked. They’re a band interested in being necessary. There’s so much eating and drinking in their work that multiple listens simply don’t satisfy; something new reveals itself on each return visit. Audacious. Idiosyncratic. Vital. A young band carrying identity, defiance and an uncompromising vision as if it isn’t a rare cargo.

Newly signed to indie heavyweights Heist or Hit (Westside Cowboy, Her’s) EP two: ‘Marionette’ has been produced by Daniel Fox (Sprints, Melts, Psychotic Monks, Naked Lungs, Nerves, Ronan Group) and it’s set to be seminal. A set text for future musicians with aspirations of innovation. “The theme of the marionette is present throughout each song, involving some aspect of a power struggle and a lack of control within oneself.” Opener ‘Chocolate’ bounces in on a synth line as slippery and hyperactive as anything Aphex Twin ever cooked up. Crispy offbeat electronic cymbals play counterpoint to atonal guitars and pugilistic drumming before the track dry-wretches its way into a nauseating cacophony of euphoria. It’s a tale of crippling social anxiety and a preference for an unflattering, lonely reality. The muted guitar pluck in the intro to ‘Crows’ is the sonic equivalent of biting one’s nails. An anxious, involuntary tic that speaks to the theme of guilt, especially surrounding digital culture: “children can watch what they please, just with viewer discretion.” The track lurches between textures, weaving themselves in and out of focus. Guitars blare like sirens, interrupting paranoid urban centres at 2am, while the bass sounds like the inside of an insomniac’s head on day four of a REM drought.

The metallic intent of ‘Discipline’ squats on the chest as though Steve Albini is your sleep paralysis demon. The pain of accountability spews from the industrial regularity of the beat, apt to the narrative of a soldier coming to terms with the lies that made him commit atrocious, violent acts. EP closer ‘Servant’ starts like a Spectrum loading screen. Dial-up modem-coded, it pauses for moments of white-noise-vomit and existential bloops. Fitting for a more abstract take on the idea of the power struggle filtered through religious imagery and self-awareness of one’s own actions, coupled with an inability to exert control over them. The band pile on the textures with sadistic glee until the evil is exorcized and the modem melts. Connection severed. Across the EP, vocalist Joseph has a tendency to hyper-fixate on themes of control and unhappiness. Creating rooms in which doom and isolation ricochet. Not that it’s all bad news “we like to think that by shedding light on the negative, it commands a sense of hope.” Influenced as much by the liminal-space horror and uncanny dread of Silent Hill as the existentialist theatre of The Twilight Zone or the absurdity of Twin Peaks, they occupy a space between unease and impulse. Makeshift Art Bar are not a band interested in being liked. They’re a band interested in being necessary. There’s so much eating and drinking in their work that multiple listens simply don’t satisfy; something new reveals itself on each return visit. Audacious. Idiosyncratic. Vital. A young band carrying identity, defiance and an uncompromising vision as if it isn’t a rare cargo.

Andreas Tilliander returns to Kontra-Musik in a grand style with his second TM404 album. Titled 'Acidub', this highly anticipated release is much more of an evolution than a repetition of the first superbly self-restricted album, where Tilliander even decided to use only one of the two Roland TB-303 waveforms. Acidub is a more playful and open listening experience, no doubt inspired by his extensive live touring with the TM404 concept. In fact, you can almost hear Tilliander's flock of acid machines breaking free from the restrained modus operandi. Every sound is like a migratory bird with a heart yearning for high altitude and favourable winds. The opening track Alinge paints a lucid picture of these acid birds leaving a cold industrial landscape behind, the flickering black shadows from their wings against the white smoke rising from a forest of chimneys below. The very last seconds of Alinge even echo of the place the silver birds are longing for, but that will remain a secret between Kontra-Musik and the avid listener. Sufficient to say, we can follow these birds of passage as they're heading south towards a warmer climate, fleeing the cold discipline of the North. Mutron Mantra, for instance, brings us to a rainforest full of serpentine lianas, giant leaves dripping with moist and green pools of water bubbling with organic life. Don't Defend Mascot guides us through a steaming savannah at dusk with hundreds of yellow eyes following our every step while Pade vividly describes the perils of the flight and the pace and courage needed to press on. In all, Acidub is a surprisingly exuberant follow-up to the more introspective TM404 album. But while the musical journey of this second album is quite different, the experience of sheer aural eminence remains the same. Andreas Tilliander has done it again, and Kontra-Musik couldn't be prouder.

The latest edition of 'Downtownsounds Classics' arrives from Dublin disco messers Fatty Fatty, just in time for the summer sunshine !

Fully licensed and cut loud on 12 inch vinyl the way God (aka Walter Gibbons) intended, it sees in-house producers Pablo and Shoey take on two choice cuts from the legendary Salsoul label.

Salsoul was the very first label to release a commercially available 12 inch remix - the aforementioned Gibbons and his 9 minute extension of Double Exposure's '10 Per Cent'. They would go on to issue a raft of underground disco classics with mixes by the legendary likes of Larry Levan, Tom Moulton and Shep Pettibone. Having robbed the famous 'Baker-Harris-Young' rhythm section from Philadelphia Records, they defined the disco sound in the second half of the 1970's and kept roaring well into the next decade.

The new mixes pay explicit tribute to two hugely formative influences on the Fatty fellas - The A extends the mysterious and wondrously wonky Big Bear edit of Bunny Sigler's 'By The Way You Dance'. Back in the day, these cosmic under-the-counter 12s helped show the Fatties how to disco real right, and they've stood the test of time wonderfully. This one has been at the front of Pablo's bag for longer than he cares to remember, and now the rest of the world can enjoy it, with some extra Pablo and Shoey disco magic thrown in for good measure...

Speaking of cosmic, the flip sees the lads turn in a stripped-back, ever-building mix of First Choice 'Hold Your Horses'. Having first heard this played by the Cosmic King himself, Danielle Baldelli, they found themselves let down by the commercially available mix. Through the disco haze, and with some subtle stemming, several outer-space whooshes and a string/vocal climax to die for, they've tried to recreate the way they heard Baldelli play it...

With the classic Salsoul artwork also present and correct, this is a love letter to perhaps the most important label in dance music history, with music that still sounds amazing five decades on... Don't sleep!

Peach’s Soak Vol. 1 is a cross-Canadian link-up with Mood Hut that moves through slower, deeper waters.

The mini-LP was written after a tour through Asia that opened up something new in how Peach approaches making music. The turning point, as she tells it, came during a visit to a neighbourhood sento in Tokyo, while surrounded by steam rising in suspended time, something clicked about the relationship between the body and the sounds she wanted to make.

She’d been learning about cycle synching and working out with the phases of her hormonal cycle, respecting energy fluctuations throughout the course of a month, and decided to apply the approach to writing music. She allowed shifts in energy to guide tempo, density, and emotional tone rather than strictly answering to the floor.

Soak came out of this exploration, sketched and layered with field recordings from her trips to Vietnam and the Philippines during a challenging time in her life. Fragments of heat, air, and shoreline are absorbed into the music itself. Vapourous pads, low-end weight, fractured percussion, and melodies hover at the edge of dissolution. Water runs structurally through the record in surges, in tidal pacing, in the slow accumulation of texture.

Wherever this music finds you, please enjoy the Soak.

As long as she can remember, Jane Remover has practiced her own autonomy as much as possible. The nineteen year old songwriter is an omnivorous listener that produces everything herself. She has been lauded by fans and writers alike, for accidentally creating entire genres in the wake of her prolific two-year run.

Her debut album Frailty was written amidst the purgatorial summer after a high school graduation, en route to turning eighteen that September. The lyrics are a wayward coming-of-age diary of an LGBT+ teenager, stuck in the suburbs of a confusing, socio-politically turbulent America.

Janeʼs words sting, but are shrouded in meticulous production; a sui generis vein of DIY rock. Simultaneously, itʼs steeped in the lo-bit, nostalgic synths that soundtrack a final glimpse of younger memories.

The LP was warmly received: Album of the Year List placements from Pitchfork and The Needle Drop, glowing reception from Paste, Insider and FADER, and a widespread resonance from a young audience who consider the album cathartic and relatable.

As long as she can remember, Jane Remover has practiced her own autonomy as much as possible. The nineteen year old songwriter is an omnivorous listener that produces everything herself. She has been lauded by fans and writers alike, for accidentally creating entire genres in the wake of her prolific two-year run.

The new album is more conceptually abstract than its predecessor as Jane sheds linear narrative writing. However, it takes place beginning at sundown and through the night, up until the next morningʼs earliest crack of dawn. Its winding songs are obtuse but carefully composed, and intimately follow Jane's train of thought.

Dynamic production is at the forefront. Noisy highs gleam, and are juxtaposed by dusky Post-Rock lullabies within the same songʼs runtime. Census Designated is a staggering display of maturation in every aspect when compared to her previous presentation, to a degree that makes it few and far between in the world of albums.

Despite the darker palette, Jane steps into a technicolor clarity for the first time. The album was made in both studios and at home—with recordings from Studio North (Kensington in Philadelphia), mixes from Kayla Reagan and mastered by Hector Vega.

A photo of her standing bareback while facing away towards the high plains, serves as the cover art for an album where she manages to simultaneously divulge her most confessional moments yet, and captivate the listener with unanswerable questions.

Jacques Bon and Pit Spector are a Paris based artist duo working with a clear and reduced understanding of club music. Their productions move within a state of controlled uncertainty. They are precisely constructed, formally defined, and at the same time emotionally open.
Their shared approach develops a musical language that creates depth not through complexity, but through feeling, space, and time. The tracks unfold organically, moving between direction and drift.
This openness can be understood as a musical reflection of Pascal’s thinking. Truth here is not something fully accessible through reason alone, but something that appears in lived experience. Fragmented, intuitive, and without final certainty.
Margot Gazour translates these tensions into a condensed contemporary form. Her remix brings together intensity and clarity without losing the emotional openness of the original material. The result is a direct physical presence, a form of truth that does not need explanation, but is immediately felt. In this sense she continues the same idea. Emotion as a mode of understanding beyond pure logic.
The visual concept by Konstantin Fürchtigott Kiffmüller extends this approach through a reduced and tension driven visual language. His work is not intended as an illustration of the music, but as its own space. A state of visual clarity that follows its own internal logic and does not require resolution.