Search:language

2025 Repress

Modus Operandi, an EP by Impérieux, is the latest release from Sum Over Histories, the label from Frankey & Sandrino that champions introspective sounds for reflective times.

There’s an air of mystery surrounding Impérieux. The Bulgarian-born artist prefers to avoid the spotlight and work diligently on music instead, building a sound influenced by the underground scene in Sofia and his Turkish roots.

Impérieux began production of Modus Operandi in Bulgaria, and continued throughout his move to Berlin last year. The artist says it was a melancholic time; dealing with culture shock and a new language was challenging even without a pandemic. This EP is a reflection of that. Dark and brooding, simplistic and surreal, Impérieux took inspiration from the fantasy worlds of novelist Murukami and named the tracks after his work.

For five decades, Harold Budd stood on the forefront of the West Coast avant-garde. Born in Los Angeles, he studied with Schoenberg-pupil Gerald Strang and began teaching at CalArts in 1970. While searching for his own voice, he was influenced as much by abstract expressionist painters as by John Cage and Morton Feldman. In his work, Budd brought delicate, slowing-moving melodies to the foreground – creating a new musical language based on “eternally pretty music” and smooth surfaces.

In the early ’70s, Budd started an extended cycle of compositions that would comprise The Pavilion Of Dreams. For Budd, the album was a signpost for a new direction in thinking about music: “The Pavilion Of Dreams erased my past. I consider that to be the birth of myself as a serious artist. It was like my Magna Carta.”

Produced by Brian Eno in 1978, The Pavilion Of Dreams stands toe-to-toe with another minimalist masterpiece also released that year, Steve Reich’s Music For 18 Musicians. Budd’s gorgeous pieces reveal a lightness of touch that draws the listener in, while sublime voices float in and out as if in a recurring dream. Featuring saxophonist Marion Brown and multi-instrumentalists Gavin Bryars and Michael Nyman, The Pavilion Of Dreams remains a master class in exquisite timbre and shimmering texture.

The Pavilion Of Dreams was both the final release on Eno’s Obscure imprint and a transition point towards his seminal ambient series. This first-time reissue is recommended for fans of Ryuichi Sakamoto, Jon Hassell and Mark Hollis.

Vines, the solo project of New York-based multi-instrumentalist and composer Cassie Wieland, offers a window into her inner world through expansive swaths of sound. She pieces together a celestial mix of synths, percussion, strings, and vocoded voice, making music that is at once deeply personal and cinematic in scope. This diaristic approach first took shape with her 2023 EP Birthday Party, and is crystallized on her debut LP, I’ll be here. With the sweeping and vulnerable I’ll be here, Vines arrives fully formed as an artist who crafts deeply resonant and open music–the kind that invites listeners in to listen, reflect, and share in the journey of learning through living.

“It was through making music that I was able to meet myself,” Wieland said. “Anything I’m going through or feeling is something that somebody else out there can relate to, and that’s really special to me.”

I’ll be here is both a culmination of years spent creating gossamer soundscapes and an opening to a new journey for Wieland as an artist. The album grew out of her years as a composer and songwriter, and builds on the language she developed on Birthday Party, which transformed the tumultuous feelings of the passing of time into minimalist meditations. It was just a start, though–a prologue, a development of the kind of language and ideas she wanted to express. With I’ll be here, she digs deeper and writes music that feels more sprawling, further solidifying her singular voice.

Wieland’s musical composition process is similar to journaling, lending itself to the music’s honesty. When she writes, she makes room for all the ideas she has; in these sessions, there are no wrong ideas, and she allows the music to be attuned to the experiences she’s having at the time. With I’ll be here, Wieland zeroes in on themes of anxiety, loneliness, navigating human connection, and having to grow up from a young age, ultimately coming to a place of acceptance. And though it began as a journal written in solitude, her collaborators shape the music with her.

Working with friends, in fact, was a crucial part of bringing the record to life. “Everything that was supposed to happen came together so easily because of the people involved,” Wieland said. I’ll be here was co-produced and recorded with Wieland’s longtime collaborator Mike Tierney, a four time Grammy-nominated engineer who has worked with artists across the contemporary classical and experimental scene like minimalist pioneer Steve Reich, LA’s preeminent classical ensemble Wild Up, and various bands on Bang on a Can’s Cantaloupe Music label. Percussionist and composer Adam Holmes and violinist Adrianne Munden-Dixon are two other longtime collaborators who are frequent fixtures of her live show. Holmes plays synths, drums, and banjo; in live settings, his kit is loaded with elements of the songs that are then triggered by MIDI, making the music an interactive, evolving experience. The album’s gentle, filamented edges are colored by Munden-Dixon, whose poignant string melodies elevate Wieland’s introspective compositions, as well as cellist Helen Newby, saxophonists Julian Velasco and Jordan Lulloff, and bassist Pat Swoboda.

Wieland takes an economic approach to writing music, building the swirling and immersive landscapes of Vines through short melodies, lyrics, and phrases. As each element layers and interweaves, they grow into sprawling webs of ghostly sound. Prior to Vines, Wieland composed pieces for other people to play using a minimalist’s sensibility, writing slowly unfolding melodies for instruments like violin and saxophone. In recent years, she sharpened her solo style across a variety of singles and covers which have garnered significant attention on social media for their emotional resonance (“being loved isn't the same as being understood” in particular went massively viral on TikTok in 2024). Birthday Party, her debut as Vines, brought her writing to a much more intimate space, centering on her vocoded voice cloaked in feathery reverb. A series of recent singles, meanwhile, including “I am my home,” showcase the way that Wieland’s music is born from the story of her innermost feelings, extending far beyond just the self.

Though Wieland’s music often deals with dark themes, it unfolds with tender melancholy, the kind that feels like a warm embrace. On “Evicted,” Wieland wonders if she’s getting sick or moving on, if she’s lost or found. Her vocals expand with each lyrical repetition, as the instrumentals slowly encircle and the music’s rhythm grows and bursts into a heart-wrenching, yet radiant wave reminiscent of post-rock bands like Explosions in the Sky. “Tired” follows a similar trajectory, building from a looping, melancholy rhythm and floating lyrics into a solemn resignation. Elsewhere, Wieland takes a more ruminative approach: “Omw” begins with twinkling piano and melancholy strings that gradually transform into an undulating mass. It is a song born out of the warm feeling of reminiscence, the slight return of hope that comes with nostalgia.

With any searching journey, there is also a point of understanding. The title track closes the album with the freedom of acceptance. A marching drum beats steadily beneath Wieland’s open vocals, moving forward, ever onward as it flies into the ether. In Wieland’s delicately textured music, there is room to come into yourself, and learn to love whomever that is. I’ll be here is a special space that can be all your own, one in which to feel what needs to be felt. “This is music for your story,” Wieland said. “I want you to use it how you need it.”

Dunkirk is a 2017 English-language war film written, co-produced and directed by Christopher Nolan (Interstellar, Memento, Insomnia, The Dark Knight Trilogy, Inception). The score is composed by multiple award winner Hans Zimmer (Interstellar, Batman V Superman, The Crown). On 5 April 2017, Zimmer revealed that he was nearly finished with the score, and that it would be complete by the start of his Hans Zimmer Live on Tour shows in May.

For the purpose of intensity, the script was written to accommodate the auditory illusion of a Shepard tone, which had previously been explored in Nolan's 2006 film The Prestige. This was coupled with the sound of a ticking clock, that of Nolan's own pocket watch, which he recorded and sent to Zimmer to be synthesized. The first pressing is individually numbered and pressed on transparent blue vinyl.

When you’re immersed into something you never actually realize if the essence will project as bright as the efforts, as deep as the process and as loud as the intentions. WOW, the Roma Est duo of China and Leo Non, have never had to create magic or delve into mystique along their meandering path, it’s just been a long solemn wait for what life throws at them and actually sticks. Cause and reaction, because the essence is quietly there when the clamour fades away. Their new album ‘Rosa di Luce’ is as pure as they come, a crystalline documentation of a new family, new meanings and new languages where the only rule is to gently adapt and just let things flow.

Welcoming Mina Wow, a tiny creature, into the fold was never going to be easy for a life lead on the road and for a band as radical as WOW where nothing is sugar-coated or constructed behind the scene, a different approach was desperately wanted, needed and searched. Almost total disarm, doing the small things, undress, get rid of the unnecessary feedback. That’s why ‘Rosa di Luce’ more than ever showcases WOW’s other-worldy spectral capability of creating songs that contain immense and minimal emotions, raw but welcoming, sincere but cutting and could play out to be a career defining album. Loosely recorded between their house in Rome and a campsite in Southern Puglia (where WOW organizes their yearly Shawala Festival) these songs are masqued my a minimalist entendre that leaves space for China’s stellar vocal delivery, a haunted range with frequencies to tickle a soul and pierce hearts, with Leo’s resolute guitar playing leading a timeless revolution.

The center-piece ‘Le Montagne E Noi’ is a perfect example of their stripped-back nakedness hiding complex arrangements (the beautiful sax played by Ryan Spring Dooley and celestial flutes by Alessandra Lazzarini) that sound effortless and imperative. Spiritual orchestrations that match our times and most importantly their new family and definition of space. Peaks that can always be reached, forests that need crossing (La Radura) in order to find a sound. There is no pretension or conceit to WOW’s style, it is entrancingly vibrant yet melancholy, taking notes from the most visceral strand of Italian traditional music, yet, still, walking down a trail that is very much their own. A planet where Branko Mataja and Alice Coltrane are backed by Emahoy Tsege Mariam Gebru and Mina on a perennial quest for the ethereal. Music to remember the essence, this is what we are, like the ocean. “

Teddy Abrams, the Grammy Award winning conductor, composer, and multi-instrumentalist deemed by the New York Times as a “Maestro of the People,” and named Musical America’s 2022 Conductor of the Year, announces Preludes, an album of solo piano works composed and performed by Abrams and produced by Gabriel Kahane and Casey Foubert, via New Amsterdam Records.

Preludes is a contemplative, personal, and playful set of simple solo piano pieces whose recorded sonic identities were developed in collaboration with Gabriel Kahane and Casey Foubert. Kahane and Foubert “identified the personality of each Prelude and found a sound world for every track to match the intrinsic characteristics of the individual works.” The 16 pieces that make up Preludes take inspiration from the canon of classical piano works such as Bach’s Inventions and Bartok’s Mikrokosmos, yet they are imbued with Abrams’ immaculate compositional language and a depth in production uncommon to “classical” works.

Coming on the tail end of Abram’s Grammy Award Winning Piano Concerto (2023), Abrams explains: “After the crazy, frenetic, joyful energy of my Piano Concerto, I wanted to create a piano work that explored a completely different energy and soundscape. While the Piano Concerto is overtly populist, referencing American genres like jazz, funk, and Gospel music, the Preludes are meant to be introspective, intimate, and simple enough for pianists of many skill levels to play in both performance and home settings.

Strut present a new single vinyl reissue of Vambe"s sought-after privately pressed album from 1982, Drumland Dreamland. A self-taught drummer, inventor, and sonic experimentalist, Vambe holds a unique place in British music. The creator of his own instrument, the drumgita (pronounced "drumguitar") or string-drum, he aimed to create music that had never been previously made to pursue access to the fourth dimension and forge a radical new musical language - intuitive, polyrhythmic and metaphysical. Drumland Dreamland is deep and haunting; a dense tapestry of layered percussion, time-warped tape loops, and spiralling drumgita figures, all underpinned by hypnotic improvisations from Brazilian pianist Rafael Dos Santos. It is both ecstatic and unsettling, a landmark recording in black British experimental music.

Demdike Stare & Cherrystones unveil a long-in-the-making darkside fantasy weaving atmospheric and loose-limbed cuts recorded at labs in London and Manchester, brilliantly shaking a bush of ghostly trig points ranging from the Mars rehearsal tapes to Minimal Man, Randy Greif’s cut-ups, Conrad Schnitzler’s industrial prototypes and ‘70s ECM sides – with vocal contributions from Ssabae’s mesmerising Laura Lippie.

In dazed pursuit of styles heard on Cherrystones’ DDS tape ‘Peregrinations in SHQ (Super High Quality)’, the renowned London digger properly hexes sonic leylines with his label bosses on 10 wickedly grubby and hazed sound experiments. They tumble down the rabbit hole like some sixth sense-guided call-and-response, resulting in an exquisite unfolding of psychoacoustic spaces familiar to their mutually spirited sounds.

Honestly it's some of the dirtiest and most esoteric gear we've heard from Demdike; you can sense a lifetime of incessant digging drip through every loop and crack; grotty no-wave, industrial noise, DIY psych, proto-techno and gnarled concrète, further bolstered by Cherrystones’ perpendicular, equally insatiable and fathoms-deep areas of interest. With a focus on scrappy, feral cuts and hastily recorded edits, the trio roughly re-draw wordless chants and hyper-compressed knocks over a vortex of found sounds that curdle in rhythmic heat. Never staying sill for long, the trio get drowned by watery ambience, then shredded loops, Technoid shrapnel and electric bass prangs dancing into the aether.

The crankiest spirit perfuses the whole thing, evoking states of unravel and psychic distress as they pit a near-peerless collective knowledge into the void. Laura Lippie acts as human ligature to sanity, a fleeting constant found smudged into the hip hop chops of ‘Familiar Unfamiliarity’, spectral incantations of ‘Prophet in View’, or a channelling of Ozzy in ‘Thee Oath’, among more deranged tongues on ‘Observing the Crux’.

It’s the missing link between ECM, Earth and Dilloway we didn’t know we needed - up there with some of the most satisfyingly deep and frazzled gear this century.

2018 repress of this highly limited heavyweight classic. Clatterbox is no joke! Regular pressing black vinyl... don't sleep!

During the mid-nineties, David Kempston secured himself a considerable following while recording releases for the seminal UK labels Clear and Evolution/Universal Language. He went on to produce music under various guises including the solid house sounds of Cartel Productions and his darker electro alias Clatterbox.

for the next release on galaxiid, we present "carpet watcher", the long-awaited second album from ishome, the project of russian producer and visual artist mirabella karyanova.

emerging from the far eastern port city of nakhodka, ishome's music has always carried a sense of distance and introspection. her debut album confession (2013) became a cult classic, a fragile, cinematic blend of ambient textures, submerged rhythms and quiet emotion.

carpet watcher was completed in 2018 but remained unreleased until now. like much of ishome's work, it was created with no urgency to be heard, a self-contained world suspended in time. drifting between viscous beats and spectral melodies, the album feels like a memory slowly coming into focus.

from her earliest recordings, mirabella has resisted genre classification. her sound draws from minimal techno, ambient, leftfield pop, outsider art, and the surrealism of soviet-era animation. in her hands, these influences dissolve into something deeply personal, a language of mood and movement rather than style.

beyond the studio, ishome has performed live across europe and russia, including sets at berghain and signal festival, as well as appearances on boiler room and nts. she also creates under the mischievous alias shadowax, where playful chaos replaces introspection. her audiovisual performances, combining original music, iphone-shot footage, digital collage and hand-drawn animation, reveal the full breadth of her artistic vision. dreamlike, humorous and emotionally direct.

ishome rarely releases her music, and when she does, it feels less like a project and more like a postcard from a world she's still wandering through. carpet watcher is the first glimpse into that world in over ten years.

For her second full-length as Plume Girl, Sowmya Somanath crafts a space where boundaries of language, feeling, and sound start to dissolve. ‘Unnameable Glory’ ruminates on the limits of expression, and the luminous freedom that emerges when we let go of the need to name. Elaborating on the exploratory songs of her debut, Plume Girl continues to bring together Hindustani classical improvisation, ambient soundscapes, and experimental pop.

Somanath’s voice—from gentle murmur to radiant call—guides the listener through dreamlike arrangements: sunrise guitar arpeggios, humming choirs, heartbeat kickdrums, and synths tremble. Elsewhere field sounds and old family recordings are collaged, a woman’s giggle transposed into a piano melody, a sloshing body of water mirrored by synth bleeps. Plume Girl conjures moments of revelation, drawing from the natural beauty and intuition, that unnameable glory.

Is there a divinity or a wholeness that exists beyond language, belief, or tradition? Unnameable Glory both celebrates and gently challenges the notion: Can we honour the creative richness of culture while also seeing through the divisions it creates? Can we meet the world—and each other—without assumption, without fear, with eyes made new? In these songs, the sacred is found not in grand gestures, but in the anonymous freedom of simply being: the iridescence of oil and water on a street, the smile of a stranger, the hush that settles by a creek.

At the heart of the album is a sense of curiosity and surrender—a willingness to listen without judgment, to let the moment be unnameable, to allow wonder to arise and dissolve. And yet, as Somanath notes, there’s an impulse to capture that’s tough to ignore; a need to replicate and remember. Unnameable Glory dwells in this tension: between holding and letting go, between the urge to define and the beauty of what cannot be contained. There is a quiet, revolutionary joy in simply living and sensing together. Music becomes a meeting place for the whole, the holy, and the unnamable.

On the latest instalment of his VALA series, Finnish techno explorer Kaspiann tunnels into heads-down, mind-warping rhythm tracks of the highest order. Alongside his appearance on respected platforms such as Delsin Mantis and Optic Portal (alongside Spekki Webu), VALA affords Kaspiann the space to explore the depth and breadth of his sound with steely focus. The four tracks on VALA 4 are teeming with tactile textures and intricate detail that feel familiar and abstract all at once, perhaps best described by the titles that indulge in a little Finnish word play. ‘Sammalkämmen’, literally translated as ‘moss palm’, feels like a fitting reflection of the spongy mid-range matter on the opening track, while the humid, dense atmosphere of B1 cut ‘Suohunaja’ could indeed conjure a sense of ‘swamp honey’. From ‘Sienikieli’s tunnelling rhythmic intrigue to the intricately arranged, expressive percussion of ‘Niin Vain’, Kaspiann continues to broaden his vocabulary within the language of deep techno, triggering ineffable sensations from carefully sculpted sonic forms and strapping them to incisive rhythms.

Hildur Gudnadóttir reunites with director Todd Phillips for the score to Joker: Folie à Deux, following their acclaimed work on 2019's Joker, which earned Gudnadóttir an Academy Award, GRAMMY, BAFTA and Golden Globe. Phillips describes her music as 'basically the second biggest character in the first film', and her return was never in question.

For Folie à Deux, Gudnadóttir pushed her sonic language further, inventing a new instrument to reflect Arthur's internal split. Inspired by his mental confinement, she worked with Icelandic builders to create a 'string prison' - long strings stretched through space and played with a trench cello - to evoke both euphoria and claustrophobia.

Black Truffle is pleased to announce a new edition of Kassel Jaeger’s Fernweh, returning François J. Bonnet’s electroacoustic project to the label five years after the acclaimed Meith (BT069). Originally released on Giuseppe Ielasi and Jennifer Veillerobe’s impeccably curated Senufo Editions in 2012, Fernweh stands near the beginning of the gradual expansion of Bonnet’s approach after the austere acoustic textures of Aerae and Algae (both released on Senufo), leading to the lush, layered environments of recent solo works on Shelter Press and the epic electronic expeditions undertaken in duo projects with Stephen O’Malley and Jim O’Rourke.

A major work in the Kassel Jaeger oeuvre, stretching over two LP sides, Fernweh draws together synthesized and musique concrète materials into a drifting assemblage. Its title’s meaning is close to the concept of ‘Wanderlust’, fitting for this music that moves freely and unexpectedly between what Bonnet calls ‘climates’. Beginning with fizzing electronics whose rhythm of gradual approach suggests breaking waves, the clinical atmosphere is soon haunted by intangible traces of lived reality. Textures call up wind, water, insects, the crunch of feet on sand or the clinking of glasses, yet they can never be identified with any certainty. At times these concrete elements possess a vivid ‘closeness’; at others, the sounds shade into a formless distance. Though the listener forms no clear picture from the concrete sounds, these elements aerate the music, lending it their space.

Drawing from the rigorous formal language and conceptual apparatus of the French musique concrète tradition—with which Bonnet, as director of the GRM and researcher into its deepest archival recesses, is intimately familiar—the music of Kassel Jaeger is equally informed by how underground experimental music has rethought electroacoustic techniques, with Fernweh at times calling up the grit and grime of para-industrial eccentrics like Maurizio Bianchi or the Toniutti brothers, and at other moments suggesting the slow-moving grandeur of early Olivia Block. Subtle features of dynamics and rhythm act as connective tissue between the numerous ‘scenes’, with wave-like envelopes, rapid pulsations, and short, tape-loop patterns all recurring throughout the piece, shared ambiguously between electronic and concrete sounds. Amid these shifting, often inharmonic textures, the electronic elements sometimes cohere into melodic shapes and chordal patterns, cutting through the fog in distorted arcs or underpinning the layered surface with slow-moving harmonies. Like his friend and collaborator Jim O’Rourke, Bonnet displays a radical openness at odds with academic tradition, allowing unabashed emotion to coexist with rigorous experimentation. As Fernweh dies away with mysterious shudders, listeners are left at once moved and unsure of exactly what they just heard.

When Alanis Morissette took direct aim at an ex who wronged her on the eviscerating “You Oughta Know” in 1995, everything about the Top 10 song communicated it wasn’t the usual narrative about love gone south. Or the typical wounded singer wallowing in self pity. Morissette, and both the lead single from and her entire American major-label debut — the profoundly personal Jagged Little Pill — represented a sea change. They kickstarted a movement, one whose impact continues to echo throughout the mainstream nearly three decades later.

Ranked the 69th Greatest Album of All Time by Rolling Stone, included on the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame’s list of 200 Definitive Albums, and featured in several books about essential albums, Jagged Little Pill remains more than a blockbuster that has sold more than 17 million copies in the U.S. and 33 million units worldwide. It’s a statement, an attitude, a soundtrack for anyone seeking inspiration, an outlet, or permission to be themselves.

Sourced from the original master tapes, pressed at Fidelity Record Pressing on MoFi SuperVinyl, and strictly limited to 4,000 numbered copies, Mobile Fidelity’s UltraDisc One-Step 180g 45RPM 2LP box set of Jagged Little Pill presents the landmark effort in audiophile-grade sound for the first time. A key part of the record’s appeal and accessibility — Glen Ballard’s smooth production, touches that help Morissette’s exposed-nerve fare seem more accessible and melodic — comes through on this special 30th anniversary edition with an openness, presence, and dynamic explosiveness that make the vocalist’s songs that much more real and visceral.

The singer’s distinctive mezzo-soprano deliveries — the octave-rippling highs, dark-hued lows, dramatic crescendos, belted choruses, wispy reflections, occasional yodels — resonate with full-range ardor and depth. As crucial as anything on the record, Morissette’s confessional words take center stage like never before. Ditto the instrumentation and atmospherics that form the magnetic backgrounds of the songs. Key in on the contributions from Red Hot Chili Peppers Dave Navarro and Flea on “You Oughta Know” to Tom Petty & the Heartbreakers' co-founder Benmont Tench’s organ playing on six tracks.

The deluxe packaging of Mobile Fidelity’s Jagged Little Pill UD1S set underscores the work’s distinguished status. Housed in a slipcase, the LPs come in special foil-stamped jackets with faithful-to-the-original graphics that illuminate the splendor of the recording. Benefitting from an ultra-low noise floor, superior groove definition, and dead-quiet surfaces, this UD1S reissue is for listeners who prize sound quality and desire to engage themselves in everything involved with the album, including the now-iconic cover art that juxtaposes two portraits of the then-21-year-old singer-songwriter and features typewriter font.

That script — which suggests a raw, blood-on-the-floor document created without modern aids like spell check or language correction — hints at the heightened level of unvarnished intimacy, honesty, and catharsis Morissette offers throughout Jagged Little Pill. Named after a phrase uttered on the astute “You Learn,” the album explores the frank emotions, inherent contradictions, and wishful desires people feel everyday but are often too afraid to express. Morissette displays no such fear or shyness.

Akin to a woman reading from a diary, Morissette leaves nothing to the imagination as she skewers hypocrisy during the poignant “Forgiven,” seeks recompense on the vengeful “You Oughta Know,” and spills her guts on the soul-purging “All I Really Want.” For all the anger and bile ascribed to the singer and record, Jagged Little Pill is incredibly healthy and upbeat. Morissette uses the catchy pop-rock frameworks and moody ambience to suss out situations, to learn, to give hope. There’s the clever yearning of “Hand in My Pocket”; wry contrarianism of “Ironic”; kind-heartedness of “Hand over Feet”; the live-and-let-live spirit of “You Learn” – all positive and amiable.

Throughout Jagged Little Pill, the ever-approachable Morissette connects with listeners who recognize themselves in her — and has an intelligent conversation with anyone who wants to participate. It seemed almost everyone did. In addition to the mammoth sales that make the effort the 17th-best-selling album in American history, Jagged Little Pill collected four Grammy Awards, two American Music Awards, three Billboard Music Awards, and eight Juno Awards. In 2018, the record became the basis for a musical that netted 15 Tony nominations on Broadway.

Ironic? Anything but. Jagged Little Pill transcends generations, gender, and trends. As Morissette sings on the opening “All I Really Want,”, the album represents “deliverance” — “a place to find common ground.”

“Recorded at BBC Broadcasting House and partially aired on BBC Radio 3’s Late Junction, the first studio encounter between London-based duo Exotic Sin and Swiss percussionist Julian Sartorius is now published in full on this album from Sagome.

Winding through six distinct and interconnected paths, the trio effortlessly create a shared language in this expansive improvised session.

Listening back two years later — the session was recorded on March 24, 2023 — it’s evident how they build at a relaxed pace, offering space for the listener to enter into their evolving sound. Anchored by piano, delicate wood, metal, and air instruments, a fluid system of interactions develops: repeating, deepening, but not fixating. The direction of travel is not cyclical or linear and the pace insists on forward confidently, avoiding the trap or comfort of recurring motifs.

Percussion is not a timekeeper, but a key element, introducing new textures that even on the final track Path 6, trace out a horizon that feels more like a blurred beginning than a definitive end.

In Session, Exotic Sin moves into a lighter, perhaps more playful language for improvisation than on their debut album Customer’s Copy. This could be influenced by Sartorius’ tactile approach to sonic materials or the more stripped-back nature of the improvised session, with less emphasis on synthesised and electric sounds. While the emotional imprint from their debut album—murkier and insistent—remains, it has been aired out to dry. In Session, their sound-world is broad and moves with levity.”

Andrea Zarza Canova – April 2025


Music by
Kenichi Iwasa (electric and acoustic percussion, trumpet, horns, thumb piano, effects).
Naima Nefertari (piano, Yamaha keyboard, flute, bells, percussion).
Julian Sartorius (drums, percussion).

Recorded and mixed live for Late Junction at BBC Broadcasting House, London, on the 24th of March 2023 by Joe Yon and John Boland.
Mastered by Giuseppe Ielasi.
Produced by Silvia Malnati at Reduced Listening for BBC Radio 3.
Extracts from the session were played on Late Junction on the 14th of April 2023.
Artwork by Josef William Back.
Graphic design by Nicola Tirabasso.

Mr Bongo proudly presents Ritmo Italiano ‘Unspoken Sounds of Italian Tamburo’ a captivating compilation of percussive-driven, Italian gems curated by Sardinian multi-instrumentalist, percussionist and producer, Gabriele Poso. A journey into the heart of Italian musical history, it celebrates Italy’s rich rhythmic traditions, showcasing a selection of genre-traversing, Italian treasures from the ‘60s to the early ‘90s. Honouring the timeless rhythms of Italian percussion masters, alongside a brand-new exclusive composition by Gabriele, ‘Ritmo Italiano’ shines a light on the universal, primal language of the drum.

A connection sparked from an early age; percussion has always deeply resonated with Gabriele. It led to years of studying percussion traditions across Cuba, Puerto Rico, and Brazil, crafting his own songwriting skills in the process. An acclaimed producer and compiler, his releases on Yoruba Records, BBE and Soundway Records have garnered global support. Yet a growing need to rediscover the essence of his country’s cultural heritage laid the foundations for this new compilation.

In Gabriele’s own words, “Italy has always been a crossroads of civilizations, with influences from the Mediterranean, North Africa, the Middle East, and Europe converging over centuries. Ports like Naples, Genoa, and Venice played a crucial role as gateways for musical exchange, a melting pot of sounds and cultures brought by sailors, merchants and travellers. These influences blended with Italy’s own folk and religious traditions, creating Italy’s unique and emotionally resonant rhythms.”

Across the 12 absorbing tracks, there’s jazz influences, Italian library music aesthetics and experimental beats mixing with Afro-Cuban and Mediterranean rhythms. It’s a broad selection anchored by the drums. The synth-heavy, ‘80s jazz funk flavours of Gegè Munari's ‘Police Man’, sit side-by-side with the samba-infused ‘Napulitano D' 'O Brasil’ by Don Marino Barreto Jr. Tribal, earthly energy radiates from Naco’s ‘Volando Con Milton’, with Tullio De Piscopo serving up cosmic disco brilliance, and blistering jazz funk mastery coming courtesy of Agostino Marangolo. Taking the name of the compilation, a new original track by Gabriele, ‘Ritmo Italiano’, blends traditional rhythms with contemporary energy, Afro-Latin influences with Italian jazz essence. Recorded live in one take, it captures a raw, unfiltered vibe.

“Each track tells a story, connecting the past with the present, and highlighting the deep-rooted traditions that shape Italy’s rhythms. The collection also offers a glimpse into the diversity of Italian music with a variety of styles from the organic, earthy beats to the more experimental and modern takes on traditional rhythms. It’s a reflection of how these rhythms have not only shaped Italian culture but also influenced global music.”

New Traditions is a collection of pipe music, electronic music, mouth music and folk music from five emerging and prominent Scottish artists.

It started in Sutherland with a recording of The Waters of Kylesku. “Do you learn any Gaelic at the school?” asks Hamish Henderson of Christine Stewart. “No,” she answers. “That’s a shame,” he responds, “Isn’t it?” she says. Then she sings. Her voice is of the peat itself, grown from the earth as the language was. It soars raptor-like above drenched ground and scoured pink rock.

Next, to Nancy Dorian, a linguistic missionary of sorts, who came from America to watch a language die. She charted the decline of Gaelic in a cluster of Sutherland villages from 1963 to 2020 when the terminal native speaker passed. Gaelic has origins in nature, with each letter of the alphabet named after a tree. It seems significant that the land of the north is now all-but devoid of forest.

Enter Alan Lomax, who travelled the world documenting indigenous music. Material from his archives feature on (fucking) Moby’s platinum selling Play. Despite the record’s worldwide commercial success we know very little of the music he essentially exploited.

Then musician Martyn Bennett, who built tracks around Lomax recordings of Scots and Gaelic voices, and did so with love that shared his blood with the cancer that killed him. His records both popularised and preserved obscure indigenous Scottish music.

This collection of tunes has similar intent: to consolidate ephemeral words in physical grooves - real as the rigs that still scar the earth - but also a desire to interpret. These versions have the greatest reverence for the originals at heart, but like the architecture of a great gallery, serve to protect and elevate.

After two decades, the indietronic veteran returns with a powerful sonic reflection on today’s sociopolitical climate and a poignant reminder of music’s enduring ability to heal, unite, and inspire. Blending experimental electronics with krautrock sensibilities, the album thrives on spontaneity, collaboration, and the beauty of ‘happy accidents’.

While many of Nitrada’s sonic trademarks remain — intricate, rickety beats; enigmatic field recordings; and gut-punching string melodies — EVERYTHING THAT IS NOT COUNTED WILL BE LOST marks a shift in approach. Experimenting with different constellations of musical machines, Christophe Stoll, the mind behind Nitrada, recorded hours of improvisations (some shared on his Instagram). These sketches became the raw material for more elaborate, carefully structured arrangements.

True to his collaborative spirit, Stoll brought in like-minded artists to shape the final album: Jan Sturm (aka STURM) lends his touch to the shimmering FRAGMENTS OF LIGHT. The euphoric dystopian WE DANCE IN THE CHAOS features Landobe (Marco Heinle) and Patrick Siegfried Zimmer on vocals. Luca di Mira (of Giardini di Mirò fame) contributes synths, cello, and delicate textures to some tracks, while Johannes Schardt’s guitar work brings a visceral, post-rock edge to NO HYMN FOR NOBODY and IL ROMANTICISMO DELL’APOCALISSE, nodding to Stoll’s roots in punk and indie.

“The goal is to take listeners on a journey through different timbres and sonic landscapes — a collage of diverse ideas and inspirations,” says Stoll about his album which effortlessly juxtaposes experimental ambient soundscapes, heavy jagged guitars, and minimal techno pulses, making them feel as though they’ve always belonged together. Because, in the end, they do – all part of the shared vocabulary of our universal language: MUSIC.

"Wind, Again" is Sary Moussa’s fourth studio album and second album on Other People. Based between France and Lebanon, Moussa returns with a riveting electro-acoustic album informed by his ever-changing relationships to space, listening, and resonance as well as his growing interest in the study of harmonics in electronic and electro-acoustic music.

Years in the making, “Wind, Again” approaches distinct musical worlds and languages by bringing together improvisations by musicians performing on Western and West Asian instruments such as the Hammond organ, clarinet, saz, and buzuk with electronic arrangements and textures. Rather than force a rapprochement of these musical worlds through the instruments, and keenly aware of the weighty sonic histories they carry, Moussa proposes another way through which they can exist together in contemporary electronic composition.

Composed of six tracks, each of which demonstrate an array of recording and processing techniques, the album generates moments of tension produced by the synthesis of textural, tonal, and harmonic encounters that Moussa calls “shadows”, which outline an impressionistic musical language, existing at the edge of familiarity. Such moments permeate tracks like “Everywhere at once” and “Violence” that open with the Hammond organ and the saz respectively and slowly reveal an expansive field of sounds that showcases each of the musicians’ characteristic performances and Moussa’s densely layered textures. It is a latent yet unrelenting tension through which the composer invokes rather than represents a collective experiential state, especially familiar to those who know his environment. In “Wind, Again” these shadows are articulations of sounds steeped in traditions they are never quite tethered to. Such articulations are implied and alluded to, they play within a musical reference without the latter explicitly existing in the recording, always teetering, never completely here nor there.
Sonically and musically, the album is fueled by the cultural, social, and personal realities that Moussa was brought up and lives in.

Both personal and musical ties with the musicians who feature on the album is central to Moussa’s practice. In the title track “I will never write a song about you”, musician Julia Sabra opens with rolled piano chords, followed by Paed Conca on clarinet and Abed Kobeissy on buzuk, before Moussa’s electronic processing pieces together, lifts, and sustains the melodic direction of the track that emerged from the musicians’ separate improvisations. For Moussa: “The initial connection between the three performances was made on a track that no longer existed, the original recording was both an obstacle and necessary step for the track we hear on the record. It’s as if we were all telling different stories and I pulled on the thread that held them together”. The track, and more generally the record, is tinged with a melancholy of things lost, though it never fully succumbs to it.
“Everything inside a circle”, Moussa’s most personal track and for which he provides the only vocals on the record, harkens back to a childhood memory of listening to music with his mother in a car: “There was a sound I was looking for — a memory of a sound and how I first heard it. This track is a hybrid of that memory and what I wanted to make of it”. The track relies heavily on generativesystems and perhaps embodies most the ambiguous quality of the record’s music in its refusal to be pinned down by one musical tradition or another.
“Wind, Again” is both familiar and alien, cold and warm; it pays homage to the mechanics, materials, and tactility of the instruments and converges acoustic and synthetic spaces. What anchors the sound of the album are the elements of a whole that cannot find its own idiosyncrasy and that is precisely why Moussa’s album is a tour de force.