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Efficient Space is honoured to share the little-heard recordings of three Yolngu songmen from Northeast Arnhem Land - Bobby Bunnungurr, Jimmy Djamunba and Peter Milaynga (d. 2007) - working in collaboration with Victorian musician Peter Mumme. Yolngu are the indigenous peoples of Arnhem Land in Northern Territory, Australia; their clans are the Marangu and Malabirr, the languages Djinang and Gannalbingu. Their songs are of instruction, story and ceremony.

A connection first initiated by Yolngu actor David Gulpilil, Waak Waak Djungi's mid-90s recordings were preceded by years of respectful sharing of culture. Mumme explains that 'the aim was to produce something that is new, not in the sense of a breakthrough, but what emerges from the combining of existing ideas'. What developed was sonically unique - sprawling vocal/electronic soundscapes and field recordings that reimagine the traditional songs of black crows and white cockatoos, sharing, creation spirits and of leaving and returning home to country. Spacious and patiently durational, the songs resound in a big land with a big story to tell.

On the 1997 Waak Waak Djungi album Crow Fire Music, these interpretations were assembled with traditional recordings and additional material from Sebastian Jörgensen and Sally Grice. Falling short of generating public interest, it became well known in the Yolngu homeland. Nearly two decades later, a CD copy filed away in the 3RRR FM library would prompt a three year investigation to meet the people behind the music.

Waak Waak ga Min Min (Black Crow, White Cockatoo) combines the previously unreleased Gandi Bawong with five contemporary versions from the original album, with a new cover painting by Bobby Bunnungurr. Tracing 1997 back to many millennia ago, this is a captivating window into the richness of Aboriginal culture and collaboration.

Mannequin's 100th - a comp looking forward featuring an international and serious cast... BIG TIP!
The modern synthwave scene would be significantly poorer without the keen ear and tireless efforts of the Mannequin label run by Alessandro Adriani. Geographically situated within the nerve centers of Rome and Berlin, yet with a musical spirit that easily transcends these boundary lines, Mannequin's back catalog has been an important component in the modular assemblage that makes up electronics-based independent music in the 21st century, and an important reference point for those who need to defend against the lazy accusations that this such is purely retro' in its form and content. Recent accolades and accomplishments - being named Resident Advisor's label of the month' for May of this year, starting the 'Death of the Machines' 12' series, and being given the 'green light' for bi-monthly parties at the Säule room in Berghain - have been earned through Mannequin's unflagging commitment to sonic diversity and Adriani's own realization that the anxious and sharp-edged sounds associated with, say, the Cold War of the 1980s can convey a completely different message today. Adriani says it best when claiming that there is no such thing as 'old' or 'new' music...only the music of now'. With this cogent statement of intent, Mannequin continues to go on exploratory missions to find the best and most relevant aspects of genres like acid, industrial, EBM, post-punk, coldwave and still more.

Which brings us to Mannequin's newest project and 100th release overall: the Waves of the Future double LP compilation, which itself is not a conventional retrospective collection. Case in point - none of the artists appearing on this collection have put out their own releases on Mannequin yet, despite acting as Mannequin's unofficial ambassadors (via DJ sets and other means). This makes the set even more compelling rather than less so, since it shows how Mannequin fits into a larger picture that includes other scene leaders and label owners including Beau Wanzer, Willie Burns (WT Records), Silent Servant (Jealous God) and Ron Morelli (L.I.E.S.). Of equal importance is how Waves of the Future projects a sense of aesthetic resilience and continuity, showcasing just how well the current artists allied with Mannequin employ and re-interpret the sonic lexicon that appears on that label's reissues of 'classic' acts such as Nocturnal Emissions, Bourbonese Qualk, Din A Testbild and Doris Norton.

However, none of this would matter as much if the music itself didn't have strong potential for lighting a blaze in the dark corners of the human imagination, and of course for forcing bodies into motion. Each track here pivots around a couple of key sound elements that seem to set the stage for the next track to come: see the sputtering / chopped ghost voices on Morelli's Charges Won't Stick,' which easily informs the slicing drone and authoritarian beat of Shawn O' Sullivan's Ill Fit,' which then lays down the emotional foundation for the sequencer-powered With You' from An-I & Adriani or the glassy landscape of Illum Sphere's Exhaustion'. Elsewhere, the wired mischief of Not Waving intersects easily with the spherical electro-funk and coded commands of Beau Wanzer. When all the disparate parts of Waves of the Future are soldered together, it perfectly illustrates Mannequin's non-linear philosophy and Adriani's suggestion that Mannequin listeners directly engage with the music rather than trying too hard to analyze or dissect it.

For their 3rd release, Pulse Msc has traveled worldwide from Rennes to Vienna, Copenhagen, and Adelaide to create "Mind Trip", a detonating 4 tracks Lo-fi House EP with multiple influences.

The first track is signed by Subjoi, a young Australian artist well-known in the Lo-fi game. The man delivers "The Way I Feel", a subtle and emotional tune, embellished with devastating kicks which will leave nobody indifferent.

In the second position, there is an important contributor to the French Lo-fi scene, who has a lot of talent and is clearly to monitor: DJ Psychiatre! The guy has released of his imagination "Our Love Is Real", a wonderful piece conducive to escape with varied & nonlinear sonorities and powerful vocals.

Then Slim Hustla, a Danish duo with well-tempered personalities gives a big contribution to the project with "Ghostryda". The track is a sentimental and melancholic ballad, with beautiful vocals which brings the listeners in weightlessness and strays them into a dreamy universe.

To conclude, gutinstinct, an Austrian versatile artist, owner of Dream Raw Recordings ends the EP with "Blue Sea". The tune is a raw and dark dance-floor killer track, which plunges everybody into an abyssal atmosphere. Take a deep breath and enjoy the trip!

Restive Plaggona is the music project of the Corfu-based artist Dimitris Doukas -also producing under Matriarchy Roots, Leftina Osha and Plaggona-. After releasing a series of cassettes in different labels along 2016 and 2017 -including his own Several Minor Promises- 'Leaving The Body' arrives as an electronic composition of beats and synthesizer bodies disguised as a sense of provocation and mystery. Each of the seven pieces offers more than a smattering of interesting textures separated by spans of great decline, but a master class of permutations in-between accompanying sounds, stretching rhythms and viscera-and- violence noises. Driven by a deeply expressive narrative, Restive Plaggona makes a strong statement about

his post-industrial vision adding technoid inclinations in a delightful dystopian world.

After the success of the first A-sides compilation in 2012, Adam Beyer has decided its time to release another. With Adam's stature steadily growing as one of the leading talents in the Techno scene and the rise of Drumcode, the standard of demo's that have been sent to Adam have been top notch. Adam has now decided to release two compilations with 10 tracks each, consisting of tracks that Adam has tried and tested.

There are also new artists that have been invited to release on Drumcode for this compilation and others who are a staple in Drumcode's core family. Combining both old and new talents Drumcode have come up with something unique and distinctive to make this two-part compilation something extra special.

Cute Heels is the solo project of Bogota´ born, experimental producer Victor Lenis. Since the early 2000's Lenis has been working on a myriad of electronic projects, including the management of the labels Black Leather Records and Romance Moderne, in his current home of Brussels. Drawing on the influences of the radical punk scene that surrounded him growing up in Columbia while nurturing his passion for synthesizers and drum machines, Lenis developed the broody, gloomy brand of electro-techno that is Cute Heels. Deemed by Juan Atkins as ''the new blood and spirit for the next step in techno music'' Cute Heels has released various digital only releases over the years, as well as his first vinyl release, an EP on Gooiland Elektro. His debut album Spiritual, rides the line between cold electro-techno and left field electronic body music. Inspired by equal parts Liaisons Dangereuses and Drexciya, Spiritual takes the listener on a journey over 8 tracks and 40 minutes of music. Listening to "Spiritual" you can see why. The songs on this full length reveal a sublime influence from Detroit techno, early Chicago house and new wave; advanced electronics for the dance floor, pumping and sophisticated. The album was recorded and mixed by Victor at Sensorium Studio in Zagreb, Croatia in November 2013. Each song has been mastered for vinyl at Fantasy Studios in Berkeley by George Horn. Each LP is packaged in a custom-made jacket by our in-house designer Eloise Leigh and incorporates the geometry of analog synthesizers and celestial rose patterns. 

The unconscious element to the conscious process.

The practice of dub techno and its tendrils is a fundamental for me, both aesthetically and from an engineering perspective.

I start every recording session with a dub inspired jam, the first piece I ever recorded in 1996 was an effort to recreate Phylyps Trak with only a Korg X3 and an Ibanez PUE5 (borrowed from Gary Howell). It was an awesome introduction to jamming, and the footing stones of noise, delay and saturation were explored with my foot hard on the enthusiasm pedal.

These practice jams are in some sense cathartic, the first step taken again & again, which helps me move forwards each session and additionally helps to 'warm the circuits' both of myself and the machines.

After realising the genius of Basic Channel is akin to the genius of peasant food, using every ingredient with nothing left to waste, (up to and including the oft maligned working noise of the machines themselves), this was a watershed moment for my own subjective progression. No longer tied to just emulation of something inspiring, but taking these learned tools into other areas of music helped to break free from a strong current of influence and also to progress into other areas with the new toolbox.

Dub:

The importance of the dub pioneers should never be understated, in modern music and my own practice. Yet with my initial inspiration being two german dudes issuing extreme techno variants with obscured label designs, who then signposted their listeners to their own inspirations (via their Wackies re-issues or nodded to on their Rhythm & Sound/Burial Mix sub-labels), meant that I started late and travelled backwards.

Learning to notice the live mixing of Mikey Dread or Lee Perry when the faders are bleeding through even when turned down, (echoed in BC's Quadrant Dub), or the brash send effects literally thrown into the mix also taught me that 'rough' mixing can inject a recording with life, uniqueness and the most right wrongness. Looking back Basic Channels very few elements helped me realise that the rules to be understood, are also the best ones to be broken.

Push the mixer into the red.

Amp that noise up from the tape delay cos it sounds sick.

Pseudo side-chain effects cos the kicks are way too loud and the mixer can't sum it nicely.

Spam the send knob into the delay units now, now and now.

Carelessness.

Noise:

Once I wrapped my head around the intrinsic 'noise' element that set those records apart, this became a torchlight into the alt noise movements which I was tentatively exploring at the time, and also is evidently a connection or thread into them.

Whether the Industrial/Post Punk UK scene (This Heat, TG, A Tent, F.E.) or the prolific output of the US Noise scene (Wolf Eyes, Live & Shave in LA, and subsequently following the lineage all the way back to Chrome's Alien Soundtracks), I had finally discovered a connection from techno to this 'free for all' corner of music.

This input from the Noise arena of sound is, in my experience, an all important step for a sonic artist, taking it's roots and extending out from Stockhausen/Pierre Henry and utilised/warped/mangled by thousands of adventurous pioneers ever since, I now see the line separating the high brow and the low brow is actually an artery carrying information from the head to the heart.

Vault is a selection of these jams that precede each of my solo recording sessions, for 30 years I've recorded hundreds of these 'workouts'. They are never intended as serious statements, just moments of naive enjoyment, yet most importantly they are time & space captured as practice.

The objective is always a warm up exercise, but sometimes those exercises turn a different corner, with a certain focus or direction dependent on what random samples are left in my machines from the previous session, instead of conscious choices, these unconscious elements can facilitate those 'positive mistakes' that make a piece of sound retain a different feel or colour and thus become special, or at least special to the creator.

I am quite conscious that the 'record everything' aspect of my ethos has been invaluable in cataloguing and saving these jams, while the attitude of carelessness during this process (after all, it's only a warm up jam) invites more enjoyment than seriousness ever could. Even if you don't feel the piece at the time, record it, because some years later it may well fit, or become relevant in a way you never intended.

-Miles

The first transmission from Pink Dolphin arrives on a double-sided 12” – two sides of music following the warmth, movement and possibility of an endless day.

Night Wind moves with the ease of a warm summer afternoon – light, fluid and quietly uplifting. Rhythm and atmosphere flow together with an effortless sense of motion, like a breeze arriving from somewhere just beyond the horizon. There is a feeling of open space throughout: sunlight on water, windows open, landscapes slowly passing by. Nothing feels hurried. The music simply finds its own pace, suspended somewhere between movement and stillness.

As the music unfolds, familiar elements seem to drift in and out of focus, leaving just enough unexplained. It feels less like a destination than a moment – one of those stretches of summer when time loosens its grip and the day seems capable of continuing indefinitely.

Night Wind is a small escape into that space.

The debut album from Glasgow's Homework is fuzzy, sentimental indie rock for fans of Teenage Fanclub, Pavement, and The Vaselines. Bang Here if Stuck was recorded live at Chime Studios and arrives on vinyl September 25 vía Meritorio Records. Homework is a quintessential Glasgow band - overstimulated and a little rough round the edges, but with a pretty streak and a big, sentimental heart. They make fuzzy 90s-indebted indie rock that's bursting with ideas and sounds like home. Twin songwriters Michael Newton and Santiago Taberna trade off driving lopsided anthems and fuzzy baroque pop experiments, their voices and guitars tangled together in a way that feel less like a band and more like a shared language. Rhythm section Lizzie Quirke and Andrew Gordon provide a loping centre of gravity - steady enough to hold everything together, loose enough to let it breathe. Bang Here if Stuck, their debut album, delivers a kind of enthusiastic chaos where everything fits exactly where it should. Recorded at Chime Studios in Glasgow with Melissa Brisbane, the band tracked the core of the album live to best capture the playful spontaneity of their gigs. Drawing from the likes of Pavement, Teenage Fanclub, The Vaselines and Urusei Yatsura, it offers a familiar sound that's easy to love, punctuated by oddball diversions that lead somewhere unpredictable and unique. For fans of Teenage Fanclub, Pavement, Guided By Voices, Dinosaur Jr, Sebadoh, The Vaselines, Urusei Yatsura.

Errands is the first duo recording from Marja Ahti, Swedish-Finnish sound artist and electroacoustic composer, and John McCowen, a native of Southern Illinois, now residing in Iceland, whose work centres on a radical exploration of clarinet multiphonics. Working without the aid of electronics, McCowen has spent years finessing performance techniques that allow him to layer beating patterns and split tones that belie their source in a monophonic instrument. Ahti, in contrast, has built up a stunning body of work in recent years using a classic electroacoustic palette of electronic, field recordings and instrumental sounds. Sharing a bill at the 2024 iteration of Stockholm’s Edition Festival, the pair discovered a sensibility shared across their different sonic means, beginning the collaborative process that would eventually result in the mercurial side-long pieces heard on Errands.

The word ‘errand’ suggests something purposeful but routine, and Ahti’s and McCowen’s work is suffused with the everyday. Meeting with McCowen to record in Iceland, Ahti used the opportunity to gather field recordings, capturing not the natural sublimity often associated with the country—think Chris Watson’s shifting glaciers—but everyday life in Reykjavik. Snatches of bustling streets and what could be humming engines thread between static sinewaves, stretches of clarinet resonances and fleeting textures, the latter often at once visceral and impossible to identify. Errands: we are a long way from the grandiose framing devices favoured by the pioneers of electroacoustic music, yet many of their principles are at work here. The gradual metamorphosis of one sound into another, the carefully achieved ambiguity between the acoustic and electronic, the treatment of the stereo field as a compositional element: all of these link Ahti and McCowen’s music to the electroacoustic tradition, yet their sensibility is radically different. The overall effect is a kind of stillness, but one at peace with continuous change. Like the unwieldy but somehow stylish everyday forms captured in the Hertta Kiiski photographs that adorn the record's sleeve, the music seems to prize a kind of deliberate awkwardness, interrupting static held textures not with an abrupt cut, but with a quick fade, suddenly revealing background as foreground.

Ahti and McCowen’s world is everyday and unornamented, but also shadowed by the numinous. Halfway through 'Chorales', we hear an arrangement for overdubbed recorders of an early motet of Messiaen’s, O sacrum convivium! Played on recorders, the piece shrinks into delicacy and dim memories of childhood music lessons, while at the same time its harmonies retain the grandeur of their liturgical origin. This double quality inflects much of what follows on Errands, including snatches of field-recorded water or air, which seem at once elemental and domestic. Enlivened with countless details that repay repeated relistening, Errands is a record that leaves the listener ready to open their ears anew to their own sound environment.

X-Ray Spex was a British punk rock band that emerged in the late 1970s, known for their distinctive sound, socially conscious lyrics, and the dynamic frontwoman Poly Styrene. The band was active during the first wave of punk rock and played a significant role in the punk movement.
Lead vocalist and songwriter Poly Styrene was known for her unique vocal style and often cited as an influential figure in the punk scene.
Other band members on ‘Germfree Adolescents are Jak Airport: Guitarist / Paul Dean: Bassist / Rudi Thompson: Sax / B P Hurding: Drummer.
X-Ray Spex released their debut album, "Germfree Adolescents," in 1978, featuring the title track, "Germfree Adolescents." The album is considered a classic of the punk era.

Poly Styrene's lyrics often addressed social and consumerist issues, and her unconventional fashion sense and energetic stage presence added to the band's overall identity.

Jason Dungan (aka Blue Lake) and Johan Carøe find beauty in the rhythms
and repetitions of domestic life for collaborative album, 'Routine' - out September 25

Copenhagen-based multi-instrumentalists Jason Dungan and Johan Carøe didn't set out to make an album. Instead, as the title 'Routine' suggests, they found their way there through a process of habitual making and listening, developing an intuitive musical language to reflect the dreamlike meanderings and creative play of life's quiet moments. 'Routine' blends pop orientated sounds, Avant-garde minimalism, folk and new age with the emotive depth of film-score.

Their meeting was not entirely coincidental. Previously in bands such as Squares and Triangles, Jason Dungan has since recorded multiple albums under the moniker Blue Lake, including the lauded 'Sun Arcs', pursuing his passion for self-built percussion and multi-string instruments. Johan Carøe meanwhile is a composer whose film soundtrack work has seen him collaborate with Angelo Badalamenti, Arp, and Sofie Birch, at whose Andersabo residency (curated by Dungan) the pair first met, resulting in the highly praised album 'Repair Techniques' written by Birch and Carøe.

'Routine' emerged organically over many years against the backdrop of great personal change. As Carøe said goodbye to his father and welcomed his first child, the pair sent each other fragments of melodies and patterns, working up responses when time allowed to assemble a sonic palette that combined acoustic instrumentation of zither, clarinet, cello, saxophone (among others) with the textures of tape, drum machine and Yamaha DX7 synth. Inspired by the vulnerability and DIY ethos of Arthur Russell's home recordings, the vision of labels like Disques de Crepescule, and the art pop, experimentation inherent to late '70s and early '80s recordings from NYC and Japan alike, Dungan and Carøe conjured new forms for their folk, leftfield pop and avant garde influences from the low-lit living rooms of Copenhagen and rural Sweden. "I'm very interested in the ways in which music and art emerge from our wider experiences as people, workers, parents and in the daydreaming activity of making music," Dungan explains of a process which allowed the duo's individual styles to drift apart and merge together seamlessly. "I think the process was definitely capturing moments in time, but over a long time," Carøe adds. "It was a bit like improvisation, but with time stretched."

The music floats with grace and humility, remaining sophisticated yet acutely introverted.
Whether on 'Clouds', where soft layers of zither and clarinet are moved along by a featherlight bass riff and the hypnotic clip-clop of the primitive groovebox, or the gentle grandeur of cello rising and falling through 'Routine 1', the album reveals itself over 10 instrumental tracks, evoking the ineffable calm that descends when the light changes and the world turns inwards. The act of time passing became a key creative ingredient to the evolution of the album, enriched with the exciting challenge to transform their passing rounds of home recordings via a slow release musical dialogue. Jason found creative moments in the twilight hours to lay down zither, melodica, acoustic guitar to name but few, while Johan utilising "line-in and headphones" would manipulate, stretch and pitch Jason's melodic pathways during newly born naptimes.

Carøe rhythmically plucks and slides the stringed cello instrument, leaving palpable foundations on 'Hymn' and 'Chords', in a treated, stylistic approach akin to Mabe Fratti, while 'Silence' draws to a close with a gospel touch. Dungan's harp-motion zither flourishes reveal more classical connotations on 'Reunion' with inspiration of Bedroom Community's Nico Muhly as organs rise with Moogs, culminating with a climatic choral outro from friend, mezzo-soprano Anna Caroline Olesen.

'Routine' then is their first collaboration, an album of deep and sincere reflection with inviting overtones that gesture with unrushed authenticity. A document of a new-found friendship that opens a window into the most personal of spaces, where the daily practices of music and life exist side-by-side to wondrous effect.

The Yummy Fur’s first album of new material in over 25 years is seductive and ambiguous; a fast-paced flip through scenes from art, myth, life and fantasy; a witty whole made from glittering scraps. The band’s original incarnation – fronted by singer, songwriter and guitarist John McKeown from 1992 to 1999 – morphed from making quick-hit cartoon-art songs to Eno and Cale-influenced creepers, populated by characters from McKeown’s life in Glasgow and the films, books and poetry that he lived a parallel life through. Everybody Talks About The Weather delights in using every past iteration of the band as potent collage material: a melee of sounds and ideas existing at once, revealing themselves then dipping back into hiding.
Recorded by the original core trio of McKeown, Brian MacDougall (guitar) and Paul Thomson (drums), Everybody Talks About The Weather comes 17 years after the band reformed for sporadic live shows, and seven years after the release of their sorta-greatest hits compilation Piggy Wings (Rock Action). Ten tracks long with nothing to spare, it is as condensed and vital as their best songs, with a new clarity of sound that allows their ambiguities to come into the light.
The album begins with “Cogs”, a taunting inquisition from within. As McKeown stages a fight between his id and ego, the tension heats up between conversational guitar lines and minimalist repetition; threatening sing-song melody and real, palpable menace. The band members are forced in tandem only to break apart, sustaining a genuine sense of just-hidden danger throughout the whole record – except, arguably, “Headphones”, a looser moment which sees McKeown make an existential something out of nothing while waiting for someone in the car (“I should have brought a book.../My ears are bleeding from the compression on your album”)
The songs are riots of reference: “Unity Over Europe” is a slyly complex two act play about the Mitford sisters – Diana, Unity, and Nancy, in a wink to the YF canon – smashing tragic biographical detail together with allusions to Thomas Pynchon and Francis Bacon. Pynchon is also lifted to serve “Blue Sunshine”, a collision of school shooters, serial killers and fictional fuck-ups (“Fast forward to Compton/Fast forward to Pynchon/Fast forward to Columbine'”) whose buzzy guitar lines are taunting and confrontational like a smarmy teenager. The innocuous title of “My Lasagne” belies a song that exists in several time periods at once: a visit to see Guernica, 50 people with their backs to the portrait of Dora Maar; the time that Picasso painted from; the Reina Sofia and the dirty streets of the Malasaña; myth-making musicians and the myths they’re riffing off overlapping and leering at each other.
All this could be laboured in lesser hands, but cultural verbosity is second nature to The Yummy Fur, who transform all this source material into songs that are weird, sexy, funny and absurd. Meaning is not happily understood or flattened. Susan Sontag's essay Against Interpretation accompanied McKeown as he wrote this album, and she’s paraphrased in “Semolina Ballerina”, the album’s justification of artistic ambiguity. Thomson’s motorik beat leads a gathering of back-and-forth instrumental phrases – including a wiry contribution on saxophone – embodying the futility of trying to parse something definitive from repeated action. “Listen to the very first thing that’s in your head,” Sontag-via-McKeown commands directly, then slinks sideways: “Interpretation is a conversation in an unmade bed”
The album features two more focused portraits, or at least The Yummy Fur’s version of such a thing. “Wanda” merges the life of filmmaker Barbara Loden and the title character of her semi-autobiographical 1970 feature film, with Loden’s then-husband Elia Kazan joining the fray of no-good men in her film. It’s a mix of adaptation and avant-criticism, with McKeown’s wordplay and mannered pronunciation mirroring the way that non-fiction and fiction twist around each other in the song. The title track is a series of vignettes and impressions from the lives of the band’s ‘90s inner circle, positing painter Mac McNaughton as a kind of Falstaffian ringleader. As with Piggy Wings and the recent single “New T-Shirt”, McNaughton painted the cover of Everybody Talks About The Weather – like the album’s music, the image of a coy girl in a white dress is an uncanny amalgamation of styles, suggestions and references just out of reach, as though seen in an art museum in a dream.
The album ends with two reads of the same frustration. “King of Nothing” is the closest The Yummy Fur will ever get to sludge-rock: the band melts together into a dusty, dreary haze as McKeown drowns in a drudgery of personal struggle (“Two jumpers on in Babylon/And only cats to talk to”) and the rhythmic toppling of heroes (Rowlands, Duvall, Munro). The majority of visible dirt is cleaned off for “Say Hello”, an uncharacteristic depiction of throwing the windows open after a dark night of the soul. Here, the situation is still cold and hard (“When the sun burns gold, but the heat never reaches your fingertips”) but it feels surmountable. Everybody Talks About The Weather is an unpredictable album from an unpredictable group, but ending on a moment of almost uncomplicated light is maybe its biggest surprise. - Claire Biddles (2026)

The Yummy Fur’s first album of new material in over 25 years is seductive and ambiguous; a fast-paced flip through scenes from art, myth, life and fantasy; a witty whole made from glittering scraps. The band’s original incarnation – fronted by singer, songwriter and guitarist John McKeown from 1992 to 1999 – morphed from making quick-hit cartoon-art songs to Eno and Cale-influenced creepers, populated by characters from McKeown’s life in Glasgow and the films, books and poetry that he lived a parallel life through. Everybody Talks About The Weather delights in using every past iteration of the band as potent collage material: a melee of sounds and ideas existing at once, revealing themselves then dipping back into hiding.
Recorded by the original core trio of McKeown, Brian MacDougall (guitar) and Paul Thomson (drums), Everybody Talks About The Weather comes 17 years after the band reformed for sporadic live shows, and seven years after the release of their sorta-greatest hits compilation Piggy Wings (Rock Action). Ten tracks long with nothing to spare, it is as condensed and vital as their best songs, with a new clarity of sound that allows their ambiguities to come into the light.
The album begins with “Cogs”, a taunting inquisition from within. As McKeown stages a fight between his id and ego, the tension heats up between conversational guitar lines and minimalist repetition; threatening sing-song melody and real, palpable menace. The band members are forced in tandem only to break apart, sustaining a genuine sense of just-hidden danger throughout the whole record – except, arguably, “Headphones”, a looser moment which sees McKeown make an existential something out of nothing while waiting for someone in the car (“I should have brought a book.../My ears are bleeding from the compression on your album”)
The songs are riots of reference: “Unity Over Europe” is a slyly complex two act play about the Mitford sisters – Diana, Unity, and Nancy, in a wink to the YF canon – smashing tragic biographical detail together with allusions to Thomas Pynchon and Francis Bacon. Pynchon is also lifted to serve “Blue Sunshine”, a collision of school shooters, serial killers and fictional fuck-ups (“Fast forward to Compton/Fast forward to Pynchon/Fast forward to Columbine'”) whose buzzy guitar lines are taunting and confrontational like a smarmy teenager. The innocuous title of “My Lasagne” belies a song that exists in several time periods at once: a visit to see Guernica, 50 people with their backs to the portrait of Dora Maar; the time that Picasso painted from; the Reina Sofia and the dirty streets of the Malasaña; myth-making musicians and the myths they’re riffing off overlapping and leering at each other.
All this could be laboured in lesser hands, but cultural verbosity is second nature to The Yummy Fur, who transform all this source material into songs that are weird, sexy, funny and absurd. Meaning is not happily understood or flattened. Susan Sontag's essay Against Interpretation accompanied McKeown as he wrote this album, and she’s paraphrased in “Semolina Ballerina”, the album’s justification of artistic ambiguity. Thomson’s motorik beat leads a gathering of back-and-forth instrumental phrases – including a wiry contribution on saxophone – embodying the futility of trying to parse something definitive from repeated action. “Listen to the very first thing that’s in your head,” Sontag-via-McKeown commands directly, then slinks sideways: “Interpretation is a conversation in an unmade bed”
The album features two more focused portraits, or at least The Yummy Fur’s version of such a thing. “Wanda” merges the life of filmmaker Barbara Loden and the title character of her semi-autobiographical 1970 feature film, with Loden’s then-husband Elia Kazan joining the fray of no-good men in her film. It’s a mix of adaptation and avant-criticism, with McKeown’s wordplay and mannered pronunciation mirroring the way that non-fiction and fiction twist around each other in the song. The title track is a series of vignettes and impressions from the lives of the band’s ‘90s inner circle, positing painter Mac McNaughton as a kind of Falstaffian ringleader. As with Piggy Wings and the recent single “New T-Shirt”, McNaughton painted the cover of Everybody Talks About The Weather – like the album’s music, the image of a coy girl in a white dress is an uncanny amalgamation of styles, suggestions and references just out of reach, as though seen in an art museum in a dream.
The album ends with two reads of the same frustration. “King of Nothing” is the closest The Yummy Fur will ever get to sludge-rock: the band melts together into a dusty, dreary haze as McKeown drowns in a drudgery of personal struggle (“Two jumpers on in Babylon/And only cats to talk to”) and the rhythmic toppling of heroes (Rowlands, Duvall, Munro). The majority of visible dirt is cleaned off for “Say Hello”, an uncharacteristic depiction of throwing the windows open after a dark night of the soul. Here, the situation is still cold and hard (“When the sun burns gold, but the heat never reaches your fingertips”) but it feels surmountable. Everybody Talks About The Weather is an unpredictable album from an unpredictable group, but ending on a moment of almost uncomplicated light is maybe its biggest surprise. - Claire Biddles (2026)

“Man has such a predilection for systems and abstract deductions that he is ready to distort the truth intentionally, he is ready to deny the evidence of his senses only to justify his logic”
Fyodor Dostoevsky - Notes from Underground (1864)

The Intermittent Signal is the sound of resistance.

In the year since The Sick Man Of Europe’s debut album was released, the world has moved on. Steady hands have slipped from the levers of power, logic has shifted underground and the message grows more urgent with every passing day.

Repetition has been relearned and the machine rhythms repurposed, this time with increased intensity. Arrangements have moved beyond the bare bones economy of the first record and there’s a newfound melodicism in places. Clarity and conviction ring true through the static and noise, while utopian ideas to remodel a broken system gain traction. This is a rejection of the attention economy and a call to reconnect through community and organisation. Those simple acts that were once commonplace have become increasingly radical as new fractures emerge.

“Through repetition the message has gained weight and become something more urgent,” The Sick Man Of Europe explains. “The vehicle for this message needed to evolve, grow to gain the strength to carry it. We’ve landed on something more expansive, immediate and immersive. Less is more. Until it isn't.”

“Man has such a predilection for systems and abstract deductions that he is ready to distort the truth intentionally, he is ready to deny the evidence of his senses only to justify his logic”
Fyodor Dostoevsky - Notes from Underground (1864)

The Intermittent Signal is the sound of resistance.

In the year since The Sick Man Of Europe’s debut album was released, the world has moved on. Steady hands have slipped from the levers of power, logic has shifted underground and the message grows more urgent with every passing day.

Repetition has been relearned and the machine rhythms repurposed, this time with increased intensity. Arrangements have moved beyond the bare bones economy of the first record and there’s a newfound melodicism in places. Clarity and conviction ring true through the static and noise, while utopian ideas to remodel a broken system gain traction. This is a rejection of the attention economy and a call to reconnect through community and organisation. Those simple acts that were once commonplace have become increasingly radical as new fractures emerge.

“Through repetition the message has gained weight and become something more urgent,” The Sick Man Of Europe explains. “The vehicle for this message needed to evolve, grow to gain the strength to carry it. We’ve landed on something more expansive, immediate and immersive. Less is more. Until it isn't.”

Tiki for the Atomic Age feels like a mid-century transmission intercepted from a parallel timeline—one where hi-fi futurism, Polynesian fantasy, and postwar optimism never lost their sense of wonder. Kava Kon isn’t recreating exotica so much as reviving its original promise: escape, elegance, and possibility, rendered in warm, widescreen stereo.

Built on shimmering vibraphones, reverb-drenched guitars, analog organs, and ritual-leaning percussion, these tracks move at an unhurried pace. This is oceanic music—designed for dim lights, glowing glassware, and time stretched just enough to breathe. The lineage is clear: lounge exotica, bachelor-pad modernism, space-age pop. But this isn’t pastiche or museum work. It’s retro-futurism with intention, imagined from the future looking back.

The “Atomic Age” isn’t just aesthetic shorthand. It speaks to contrast—leisure in the shadow of anxiety, beauty alongside uncertainty, fantasy as a necessary technology. Kava Kon understands that tiki was never about geography; it was about psychology. A constructed elsewhere. A permission slip to slow down.

Pressed on vinyl, Tiki for the Atomic Age comes fully alive: tactile, immersive, and meant to be lived with. For listeners drawn to mid-century dreamscapes and modern exotica that honors the past without freezing it, this is an invitation—step sideways out of the present and into something more elegant.

Montréal-based sound artist Steve Bates expands his strategies and stylistic influences on An Infinite Antenna, his second solo album for Constellation, giving freer reign to melodic components and textural dynamics: leftfield synth work, deconstructed drum machine, pointillist electric guitar, and radiostatic blur are all part of the new brew swirling around his bruitist signal-bending and field-recording sensibility. Arguably a more ambient album than his acclaimed 2022 Constellation debut, An Infinite Antenna is at the same time more densely packed with ideas, dynamics, evocations and earworms. Coming out of the anarcho-punk scene of the Canadian Prairies in the 1990s, Bates founded Winnipeg’s experimental sound festival Send + Receive in 1998 before moving to Montréal to become Sound Coordinator at Hexagram (Concordia University), delving further into sonic research and theory, tape-based composition, and installation work. Alongside the curatorial arc of his own sound art label The Dim Coast, Bates released several solo and collaborative albums on ORAL_records leading up to All The Things That Happen, the 2022 Constellation debut praised by Boomkat for its “grittily iridescent ambient billow rendering maximalist panoramas” and by Backseat Mafia as “extraordinary soundscapes of unstable, destructive cacophony and tender calm, echoes of the threat of power.” Where that album was noisier and single-minded, made with the self-imposed limit of a Casio SK-1, Bates plays more widely with instrumentation and atmospheres on An Infinite Antenna, also drawing on his post-hardcore roots in seeking a sort of track-by-track concision nonetheless driven by the album’s coherence as a seamless work. “I was trying to set durations I associate with punk rather than the longer, sprawling music coming from more ambient styles (that I very much love), and while I wasn’t able to quite pare it down to Minutemen durations, I had that reduction to essential elements as a sort of whisper over my shoulder.” Incorporating source recordings made throughout 2023-2025, including at artist residencies and site-specific sound installation visits in Bosnia and Herzegovina (the album’s cover photo was taken in Sarajevo), Austria, Greece, and Saskatchewan, An Infinite Antenna combines Bates’ “idea of slowly scanning a radio dial” with a soundworld of recurring timbral and textural touchstones that forge an integrated whole.

The album’s 12 tracks work effectively as stand-alone pieces, replete with shifting undercurrents, buried melody, and stuttering kinetics, and as a sequential flow where the brief interstitial silences between them are like short pauses to flip the next page in a sketchbook of perspectival studies of a wide but singular tableau. The glistening atonal synth expressionism of opener “Pink pink pink pink…pink pink” drifts gently toward submerged ambience, darkened by the noised rumble and static interference of “Green as a ghost”, which introduces broken beats and piano chords in its denouement. Tracks like “Battles and sieges and street trees” and “Easier sad than done” work the foundations of low-end field-recording resonance, but dappled with lovely melodic droplets of treated guitar and synth. “Waste, songs of the world” and “Disaster loans” are among the album’s most explicit stylistic references to posthardcore, with distorted ambient bass and gently abrasive drum sampling. Closing track “Swamps and factories”, the album’s longest piece, is perhaps most reminiscent of Bates’ previous record with its sustained dissonant glimmer-drone, but the journey An Infinite Antenna traces to get there is Bates at his most dynamic, diverse, distinctive, and engaging. Thanks for listening.

Montréal-based sound artist Steve Bates expands his strategies and stylistic influences on An Infinite Antenna, his second solo album for Constellation, giving freer reign to melodic components and textural dynamics: leftfield synth work, deconstructed drum machine, pointillist electric guitar, and radiostatic blur are all part of the new brew swirling around his bruitist signal-bending and field-recording sensibility. Arguably a more ambient album than his acclaimed 2022 Constellation debut, An Infinite Antenna is at the same time more densely packed with ideas, dynamics, evocations and earworms. Coming out of the anarcho-punk scene of the Canadian Prairies in the 1990s, Bates founded Winnipeg's experimental sound festival Send + Receive in 1998 before moving to Montréal to become Sound Coordinator at Hexagram (Concordia University), delving further into sonic research and theory, tape-based composition, and installation work. Alongside the curatorial arc of his own sound art label The Dim Coast, Bates released several solo and collaborative albums on ORAL_records leading up to All The Things That Happen, the 2022 Constellation debut praised by Boomkat for its "grittily iridescent ambient billow rendering maximalist panoramas" and by Backseat Mafia as "extraordinary soundscapes of unstable, destructive cacophony and tender calm, echoes of the threat of power." Where that album was noisier and single-minded, made with the self-imposed limit of a Casio SK-1, Bates plays more widely with instrumentation and atmospheres on An Infinite Antenna, also drawing on his post-hardcore roots in seeking a sort of track-by-track concision nonetheless driven by the album's coherence as a seamless work. "I was trying to set durations I associate with punk rather than the longer, sprawling music coming from more ambient styles (that I very much love), and while I wasn't able to quite pare it down to Minutemen durations, I had that reduction to essential elements as a sort of whisper over my shoulder." Incorporating source recordings made throughout 2023-2025, including at artist residencies and site-specific sound installation visits in Bosnia and Herzegovina (the album's cover photo was taken in Sarajevo), Austria, Greece, and Saskatchewan, An Infinite Antenna combines Bates' "idea of slowly scanning a radio dial" with a soundworld of recurring timbral and textural touchstones that forge an integrated whole. The album's 12 tracks work effectively as stand-alone pieces, replete with shifting undercurrents, buried melody, and stuttering kinetics, and as a sequential flow where the brief interstitial silences between them are like short pauses to flip the next page in a sketchbook of perspectival studies of a wide but singular tableau. The glistening atonal synth expressionism of opener 'Pink pink pink pink_pink pink' drifts gently toward submerged ambience, darkened by the noised rumble and static interference of 'Green as a ghost', which introduces broken beats and piano chords in its denouement. Tracks like 'Battles and sieges and street trees' and 'Easier sad than done' work the foundations of low-end field-recording resonance, but dappled with lovely melodic droplets of treated guitar and synth. 'Waste, songs of the world' and 'Disaster loans' are among the album's most explicit stylistic references to posthardcore, with distorted ambient bass and gently abrasive drum sampling. Closing track 'Swamps and factories,' the album's longest piece, is perhaps most reminiscent of Bates' previous record with its sustained dissonant glimmer-drone, but the journey An Infinite Antenna traces to get there is Bates at his most dynamic, diverse, distinctive, and engaging. Thanks for listening

First up in the series - Heavy Salsa and Latin Soul from Puerto Rico-born pianist Eddie Lebron and Orquesta Suave, the album that kickstarted Ghetto Records. Ghetto Records was Joe Bataan’s way to get over on “The Man” and out of the ‘hood, a bold move by an artist looking for independence and creative control in an industry that had exploited his talents and treated him like chattel. As Bataan puts it today, “Ghetto Records was part of my journey, a stepping stone to everything else that I’ve done. I learned enough that it enabled me to get out of the box with my thinking, it showed me how to deal with adversity.” Like many dreams and schemes born of the street, this one was audacious, perhaps even reckless to a fault. Hatched from desperation yet full of hope Ghetto Records came crashing down shortly after its inception. The seven albums in its discography languished out of print - until now. These are the definitive reissues of these albums, licensed from Joe Bataan, with his oversight and input into a 16 page oversize book by Pablo Yglesias that details Bataan’s larger-than-imagination life and his little Latin label that could.

For his debut on Hard Times Records, Manchester's FLETCH delivers 'Lift Me Up’ - a four-track EP rooted in rolling grooves, warm musicality and a refined dancefloor energy.

The release follows a busy run for FLETCH, with releases on Circoloco, Three Six Zero, MVSON and ANOTR's No Art, where his Play House EP reached the top of the download charts. His connection with Hard Times began behind the decks at the label's sold-out Miami Winter Music Conference showcase, where a shared appreciation for the music soon developed into plans for a release.

"After playing for the Hard Times crew in Miami, I told them how I'd been a fan of the label for years and that i’d love to release something with them one day," says FLETCH. "I sent over some tracks that I felt were a natural fit and the guys signed them on the spot. The rest, as they say, is history!"

The title track sets the tone for the EP with rolling drums, elastic basslines and understated vocal hooks, while 'Stand Up’ leans into swung percussion and classic chord stabs. On the B-side, 'Touch Me' shifts into deeper territory with stripped-back, late-night groove, before '1000 Years' closes the EP with dusty scratches, crisp hats and an understated sense of drive.

Since its digital release, lead track "Lift You Up" has received strong support on BBC R1, plus heavy DJ support from the likes of TSHA, Hilit Kolet, Laurent Garnier, Jamie Jones, Groove Armada, Riva Starr, and more.

FLETCH's sound continues to evolve while remaining firmly rooted in the traditions of house, making 'Lift Me Up' the perfect debut on Hard Times.

2026 Repress

With this seventh instalment of retweaked heat, Perro Bueno Edits once again prove that less is more when you know exactly what you're doing. Both refixes strike a sweet spot between respectful crate-digger sensibility and dancefloor punch while updating Afro-funk classics without sanding off their soul. 'TFOM' puffs out its chest with big, bold, playful horns leading the charge as Latin vocals bring some sunshine and funky bass keeps things moving. 'SMPP' slows the tempo, which means more room to luxuriate between the dumpy kicks and appreciate the sharp horns and organic percussion before some raw vocals bring a Brownian funk edge.

Kokoroko today announce Tempos Difíceis Sempre Passam, a new remix EP reimagining tracks from their acclaimed album Tuff Times Never Last through the lens of some of Brazil's most exciting contemporary artists.

Translating the album's title into Portuguese, Tempos Difíceis Sempre Passam reflects both the enduring message at the heart of the original record and the creative dialogue between Kokoroko's expansive musical world and Brazil's rich, genre-defying music scene. The four-track collection brings together a handpicked group of artists whose individual approaches blur the boundaries between a variety of genres and contemporary Brazilian sounds.

To be released digitally and on limited vinyl, the EP also sees the return of acclaimed artist Luci Pina, whose artwork for Tuff Times Never Last is reimagined for this new chapter, creating a visual thread between the original album and its Brazilian counterpart.

Leading the announcement is Never Lost (Luedji Luna Remix), available now on all digital platforms. The celebrated Brazilian singer-songwriter brings her unmistakable warmth and emotive vocal sensibility to the track, offering a beautifully understated reinterpretation that deepens the song's themes of hope, resilience and togetherness.

Completing the EP are three further remixes from across Brazil's vibrant musical landscape. Onome of Kokoroko joins forces with acclaimed guitarist Nyron Higor for a richly textured rework of Da Du Dah, while producer Aleh Ferreira delivers a rhythm-driven reinterpretation of the same track. Closing the collection, Bruno Berle transforms Closer To Me with his signature blend of intimate songwriting, Brazilian groove and experimental pop sensibilities.

Together, the remixes offer fresh perspectives on Tuff Times Never Last, extending the album's spirit of optimism while celebrating the creative connections between London and Brazil.

Featuring a prestigious line-up of guests, the album Sonars brings together iconic voices alongside Maxime Dangles and Tommy Rizzitelli: Oxmo Puccino (Continent plastique), Craig Walker, former lead singer of Archive & Power of Dreams (Bug and Delusion), and Aur (Reef).



Conceived during the Art/Science project of the same name, Sonars draws inspiration from reflections on ecology and the shifting biodiversity of our oceans and rivers. It was in Rimouski, on the shores of Quebec’s Saint Lawrence River, that the duo immersed themselves in the imagery and sensations that breathe life into this record. The result is a collection of breathless, driving tracks—a masterly fusion of machines and drums where organic textures meet the urgency of the climate crisis.

Tape Source’s Romain Da Silva Santos further enriches the album with his guitar work, while the visual identity is graced by the work of photographer Jean Gaumy, whose iconic photography features on the cover.

Clear Vinyl


Her sound remains vast and yearning, with gut-punch drums pushing through explosions of colored powder; her voice is a chrome-plated sigh, and her agile melodies soar effortlessly. - Pitchfork *BEST NEW MUSIC*
she achieves some serious cinematic grandeur. - Stereogum
Simply too sublimely crafted to ignore. - Consequence of Sound
A catchy ethereal piece of pop - Brooklyn Vegan
Rose's layered, reverb-laden vocals hit like waves of sunlight, warming her lines almost to the point of wordlessness. - Paste Magazine


"Hila. A record about loss. What persists beyond the range of ordinary perception? The place mourning keeps returning to - not quite transcendence, not quite doubt. The edge of what we can see."
Frankie Rose has spent fifteen years building one of the most quietly distinctive bodies of work in American independent music. Bursting out of the shackles of her legacy on 2024's Love As Projection, 2026's Hila builds on the muscular, dance-ready songwriting and transcendent melodies to result on Rose's most exploratory and affecting record of her career. Imbued with yearning melodies and brooding post-punk dynamics, Hila is Frankie Rose at her most impressionistic and expansive.

Self-produced at her home studio featuring collaborations with drummer Justin Welch (Elastica/Lush), Hila was recorded following extensive touring with The Jesus & Mary Chain and Swervedriver. The result is the most confident, searching music Rose has produced; muscular in its production yet emotionally vulnerable in its diffracted neon glow. A record informed by loss and the way grief mutates our senses, it's fitting that Rose channels the nuanced darkness of later Coil, at times the pounding EBM-production of Skinny Puppy and the near-spiritual alien-ness of Cocteau Twins. On Hila, the doors of perception are constantly melting, revealing the porous nature of the seen and unseen. The result is a synesthesia that flips the senses.

If Love As Projection was an outward-looking record looking to embrace the world, Hila brings the dark cosmos into inner space. Rose's love for 80s production and soaring melodies remain, they're cornerstones to her craft after all, but there's something more assured and gothic underneath the massive waves of sound. Opener Olo shimmers into a pulsating, cinematic brooder, Rose's vocal transcending and swan diving between registers in the chorus breakdowns. First single Cant Be Wrong serves as a transition from the optimistic pop of Rose's previous album, introducing a thumping 80s funk rhythm track under the soaring vocal performance. The ebullient Shadow Twin is that song's sibling, recalling major label-era Strawberry Switchblade melancholy mixed with Robin Guthrie's twinkling guitar work.

Hila blossoms darkly from here on in, blowing out into a glacial wide-screen sonic dynamic. On Rainman and the title track the listener is transported to a rain-soaked, nocturnal cityscape ridden with desire, moonlight cutting through blinds, intoxicating chasms without bounds. Rose's use of saxophone and digital synthesis recalls the nightmusic of Hats-era Blue Nile or the more ambient end of Emeralds' catalog. Indeed, in the towering synthetic cello sounds that climb into the mind on Hila, there's a distinct flavour of the instrumentals on Bowie's Low. This is musick to play in the dark, to light the way a little, just enough to trick the senses.
Leading into the strobe-filled haze, single Manifest pounds forward with a massive Industrial 4/4 beat and post-punk/goth musicality, an exercise in unlit ecstasy. For Best Of Times, the liberal saxophone passages feel like a suppressed, 80s Michael Mann soundtrack with Frankie Rose's effortless, melodic vocal performance probing, searching for connection. Navigating through the dry, iced landscape into a rising sun, closer Velvet Refrain flips the melancholy of the preceding passages. With a massive sound dripping with harmony, the clanging guitar and vocal duet feels they're sound-tracking an unexpected happy ending after bouts of darkness."

Shaped in the shadows and sounds of the legendary Topanga Canyon, California. The debut album from Biita Houdei is buoyed by a magic that feels wildly and beautifully untamed; wild-hearted sentiments that are shaped by the world around it, fascinated by the enchantment of it all, and delivered via a collective (harmony layered) voice that understands the complex nature of what it means to be alive in the here and now.

Produced by Haley Heynderickx, 'This Bed Was Made For Me' is a striking collection of stirring, signature folk songs animated by subtle instrumentation and orchestral flourishes. It feels lived in: vocals weave together in a beautiful harmonic dance, seasons shift, sunshine appears and bold psychedelic colours warm the horizon.

In the early stages of making her debut album, Biita Houdei knew two things: that she wanted the recordings to feel distinctly and palpably warm, and that she would sew a unique patch for every song on the album. The first of those things is subjective, though brightness pours in from all corners of This Bed Was Made For Me. The second became a laborious task she undertook throughout the process, the completion of which is testament to the slow process of it all, to the physical commitment and patience required to make a full work of art.

The patches she crafted during the making of This Bed Was Made For Me became a full quilt, one that now adorns the album’s front cover. Beneath it sits a striking collection of Houdei’s stirring, signature folk songs, brought into fruition with the help of fellow songwriter Haley Heynderickx, in her first lead production role, and the album’s producer/engineer Sahil Ansari. It’s also the first release Biita (pronounced “bee-tah”) is releasing under her newly-taken name, one that was gifted to her by her auntie and means "unique" in the Farsi language. “I proudly take this name,” Biita says of the change. “It makes me feel that much closer to my Persian heritage.”

Recorded across ten back-to-back and full days, the album touches on themes of love and heritage, of taking chances, the preciousness of time and the impact we all have on the world around us. A number of the songs were written in Topanga, California, while Biita settled into a new home as wild fires raged, and as she adjusted to a life which no longer held distinct seasonal changes, far from the Ozark Mountain home she felt so attached to. Such themes reveal themselves in a variety of ways across the album’s fourteen songs, that key sense of warmth retained in the bones of the album whether they are stepping into darkness or seeking out light.

The album feels lived in and alive; dust swirls, seasons shift, sunshine appears and is held. Biita calls it ‘psychedelic’ and there is indeed a sense of that in the world building, in the way the bold colours are always shifting. Formed of fourteen songs, and filling nearly forty-five minutes, This Bed Was Made For Me not only builds a whole world for listeners to inhabit but also implores you to stay a while. This was deliberate, indeed it’s Biita’s wish that listeners give the album dedicated time; to learn its shape, to explore it fully, away from the instant grab of playlists and skewed algorithms.

“Many of my favourite albums didn’t reveal themselves instantly to me,” Biita, now based in the Catskill Mountains of New York, explains. “Some did, of course, but I had to work to understand the full scope of the piece as a whole. I encourage people to dive deeper into everything that they choose to consume. It is not my intention to sound pretentious, but instead, I am trying harder to explain the gratitude I have for being able to craft every part of this album— using my hands, my brain, my voice, my visions. To me, it is an all encompassing work of art,” she continues. “Making the quilt was laborious. Taking the cover photo was laborious. No shortcuts, but rather a manual and tangible approach. I am thankful for the time it took.”

From Berlin to Lagos: Jembaa Groove expand their sound on "Be A Lover"

Berlin-based outfit Jembaa Groove return with "Be A Lover", a four-track EP set for full release on 18 September via global soul imprint Agogo Records. Following two critically acclaimed albums and an intensive period of touring across Europe and the US — including a SXSW showcase and a widely acclaimed KEXP session — this latest release marks a new chapter in the band’s trajectory. Built around highlife rhythms and shaped by Afro-jazz and the more organic edges of Afrobeats, "Be A Lover" unfolds with a warm, languid and deeply soulful feel, capturing different strands of today’s multifaceted Afrofusion scene.

Here, the band strips back from a seven-piece ensemble to its two founding members, while at the same time opening outward into a deeply collaborative space. At its centre is a close creative partnership with celebrated Nigerian highlife revivalists The Cavemen., alongside contributions from London-based, Nigerian born soul artist Azekel, Lagos vocalist Tim Lyre, and Malian icon Fatoumata Diawara.

“This record has a different flavour,” says Owusu. “It’s really about collaboration — different feelings, different thoughts, different energies coming together.” While centred around the Lagos contemporary scene, the record is shaped by a wider diasporic network stretching across London, Lagos, Berlin and Amsterdam, cities producer and bass player Yannick Nolting describes as “the pillars where everything that is happening in today’s highlife and Afro-fusion scene.”

Formed in Berlin in 2020, Jembaa Groove began after a chance meeting between bassist, producer and composer Yannick Nolting and percussionist, vocalist and songwriter Eric Owusu. Drawing on their respective musical journeys — Nolting’s years working with Lusophone artists in Lisbon and Owusu’s deep roots in Ghana’s highlife tradition, including work with Pat Thomas and late highlife legend Ebo Taylor — the project quickly took shape: their debut album Susuma established a powerful, poly-rhythmic sound grounded in highlife, jazz and soul, while 2024’s "Ye Ankasa | We Ourselves" expanded that vision through collaborations with artists across Ghana and its diaspora, including UK based Ghanaian singer, rapper, percussionist, and arranger K.O.G and legendary Ghanaian highlife musician Gyedu-Blay Ambolley.

The collaborative spirit continues on "Be A Lover", most of which grew out of a meeting with sibling duo The Cavemen. at Supersonic Jazz Festival in Amsterdam in 2023, leading to a sustained exchange of ideas between Berlin and Lagos. With two acclaimed albums behind them, The Cavemen. have emerged as central figures in both Lagos’ alternative music scene and the wider contemporary highlife revival, bringing the genre to a new generation through a stripped-back, melody-driven sound. “There was some kind of magnetism towards Lagos,” says Nolting; for Owusu, who is Ghanaian but spent much of his life in Nigeria, the connection runs even deeper. “I feel lucky to be able to bring different cultures together and make something really beautiful,” he says. A key part of that process was a close working exchange between Nolting and The Cavemen.’s Kingsley Okorie, who effectively stepped into a co-producing role on three out of four of the tracks.

The one exception is opener No Pain No Gain, which features Nigerian-born, East London-based Azekel, whose smooth, R&B-leaning vocal moves through a slow-burning arrangement of bright keys, gently rising horns and atmospheric synths, anchored by Owusu’s organic percussion.

The title track Be A Lover, featuring Afro-fusion Lagos artist Tim Lyre, distills the EP’s central message into its most immediate form. Backed by syncopated percussion and a gently smouldering arrangement, Lyre’s voice moves with a laid-back, melodic ease, delivering a simple refrain: “be a lover, not a fighter.” “It’s a very simple message,” says Nolting, “It’s about showing more love, on a personal level but also more broadly… just show love.” That same sense of warmth runs throughout the record, reflecting its core idea.

On Obi, The Cavemen. take centre stage, with Kingsley Okorie leading through melancholic, plaintive vocals rooted in classic highlife. In contrast, his brother Benjamin James punctuates the track with high-pitched vocal interjections, heightening the emotional tension against a backdrop of slow, restrained instrumentation.

Waka follows with a more melodic, hook-led refrain from Eric Owusu, whose loose, almost conversational delivery creates a striking contrast with Fatoumata Diawara’s unmistakably powerful, raspy vocal. The collaboration grew out of a chance meeting while Owusu was on tour, with ideas exchanged quickly and Diawara returning a finished vocal within days. “We are so proud to have her. It’s a privilege” says Owusu. "Be A Lover" is a record shaped by connections like these — between people, scenes, and cities. “It was partly intention, partly destiny,” says Nolting. “We met these people along the way, and somehow Lagos was meant to come into our path.”

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.

Brazilian artist Rubel isn’t one to be pigeonholed and typecast into staying in one sound. Casas, the follow-up to his debut album Pearl from 2015, brought a bigger, more epic, and richer production quality to the table. Fusing the worlds of MPB and hip hop, Rubel’s sophomore LP built on the momentum of its predecessor, gaining a Latin-Grammy nomination along the way. Mr Bongo is proud to be giving Casas its first worldwide release on vinyl and CD outside of Brazil and Japan.

The cliché they say is that the second album is always the trickiest; however, Rubel doesn’t seem to have had any problems on Casas. It’s a fountain of creativity and originality, marking an artist in full flow.

Conceived after Rubel spent six months living in Los Angeles, Casas is MPB-leaning at its core but is also driven by a hip hop inspired pulse. There is a clear influence from hip hop’s aesthetic across the 2010s woven subtly but fundamentally throughout. Nods to Frank Ocean, Kendrick Lamar and Tyler, The Creator can be heard across an album full of playful edge and personality. Luscious string-led arrangements and tracks that explore the rich folkloric rhythms of Brazil, sit next to songs with low-fi drum machines and features from acclaimed Brazilian rappers.

One of the highlights of the album, ‘Mantra’, starts with a traditional Brazilian rhythm that morphs into a hazy hip hop beat. A sublime song with a hooky call and response chorus, it features a guest appearance and verse by the Brazilian MC Emicida. Another highlight is the epic ‘Colégio’ (College) which further showcases the melding of stripped back drum machine beats with cinematic, sweeping arrangements. Elsewhere, ‘Partilhar’ is a swaying, heartwarming hug. A tale of longing and love that has become a singalong fan favourite at Rubel’s concerts.

Casas also shines a light on a string of key players in Brazil’s new vanguard, such as Pedro Fonte, Gus Levy, and Brazilian rapper / poet Rincon Sapiência to name a handful. The record has pop sensibilities yet also feels underground. It beats with the heart of a singer-songwriter, a feeling that was felt so strongly on Pearl, yet this time is bolstered by a level of arrangement and richness of sound that take it to another dimension - soaring horn and string sections elevating the songs from home recording to stadium-ready anthems. Keeping that intrinsic beauty and simplicity of a well-constructed song yet reframing it within a pop context is the true gift of this album.

Casas cemented Rubel’s status as one of Brazil’s leading contemporary talents and a key figure enriching the country’s already effervescent scene.

Dublin-born, thirty years an immigrant. That's the spine of henryohenry's debut, Apocrypha, not as a concept but as a condition. He's spent three decades in the United States working in the trades, absorbing the country's mythologies and building what he calls "an idiosyncratic American language" out of them, something closer to Whitman's vision than what he found. He is, by his own account, "formally and informally not a musician" — all but two of the songs were written on a $6 charity-shop guitar with a repaired headstock and strings that distorted unpredictably. It doesn't appear on the record. Produced by filmmaker Rick Alverson, the album is anchored by guitarist Eamon O'Leary and his son Ned Steves, recording together for the first time, without rehearsal. Erik Hall mixed and contributed overdubs; Emilie Rex of Lean Year lends harmonies to three songs; poet Callie Garnett appears on another. Album standout "There" captures something harder to name: how powerful feelings drive you to the page, and how the thing you make can outlast the feelings that made it. "It feels like a triumph over something," he says, "even if you're a bit embarrassed by some of the sentiment."


Apocrypha arrives as a debut but carries the patience of a life lived in full. For fans of John Cale, Nick Drake, Leonard Cohen.

My fourth album begins and ends in nature, a space that has continually shaped and inspired my artistic work. I spend much of my time in forests and landscapes, listening, observing, and absorbing the subtle rhythms and structures of the natural environment. These impressions do more than accompany my music; they become an integral part of it, influencing its atmosphere, form, and sonic character. As a result, this has become my most emotional and profound album to date. The journey begins with captured moments from a Mediterranean island. Fragments of distant church bells, the ticking of a clock, and the hum of insects in the sun are gently joined by my piano... In this way, the opening piece, “Time,” serves as an introduction to the central idea behind Ellipsis. The term derives from the Ancient Greek word λλειψις (élleipsis) and refers to the deliberate omission of ἔ words or parts of a sentence.

What remains unsaid can carry just as much meaning as what is spoken. This idea runs like a thread throughout the entire album. A reduction to the essential, yet enriched with the necessary details that continually create space for imagination, personal interpretation, and those emotions that are not prescribed but emerge through the act of listening. Ellipsis exists within this tension between presence and absence, between acoustic and electronic sounds, between nature and the studio, between memory and perception. It is a place where meaning arises not only from what is audible, but also from what remains unspoken.

Seasick Steve returns with the last season of America. In 2024, Steve and his wife Elisabeth took a road trip across America where he witnessed the poverty and divisiveness in the context of the upcoming election. They were in a New Orleans club where a house band leader welcomed two Belgian musicians on stage by saying "welcome to the last season of America." This became the theme for the rest of their road trip and led to him writing the title track to the new album. A deeply personal, heartfelt reflection on the state of his home nation, The Last Season of America is a protest record in the truest sense.

A deep cut from the extensive back catalogue of South African group Splash, significant artists in the narrative of the country’s fiercely independent Gallo Record Company, CWPT presents two uplifting mixes of 1990’s ‘An Eye For An Eye’, arranged by a modern day hero of the craft, Lipelis.

Originally released in parallel with the official beginning of the end of South Africa’s decades-long Apartheid, lead vocalist Daniel Tshanda dispels the philosophy of the track’s title, instead offering a still poignant call for unity; “An eye for an eye is no good… Let’s live together as one.”

Lipelis’s carefully crafted take retains this sentiment front and centre, while nudging the arrangement toward contemporary dancefloors, enriching a steady and bubbling mix of colourful keys, bubblegum percussion and a lifting backing chorus that includes another Gallo sensation, Dalom Kids.

These same voices form the spiritual centre of Lipelis’s 12” dub version, which further demonstrates the track’s irresistible rhythm, making space for complimentary piano melodies from Lipelis, alongside collaborator Eugene Piankov. Here, sunsetting piano lines dance with the analogue techniques of Lipelis’s own production instincts, forging a blissful tribute to a potent moment in South African musical history.

Oscar Later is the solo project of one half of Once Twice, formerly known as Parallels. The EP takes its premise from the 1967 Outer Space Treaty, which ruled that no nation could claim ownership of the Moon or any other celestial body. Across six tracks, that idea of ownership, distance and free imagination runs through the record, which combines breakbeat and shimmering synths with processed vocals and clips from vintage ads and obscure films.

"I wanted the record to feel like public-domain myths, commercial promises and space-age optimism all colliding," Oscar says, "blurring the line between memory and fantasy."

Opener 'Air Time for Andre' channels chopped-up breaks reminiscent of Skee Mask, combined with processed found audio. 'Wenlocked', named after the East London street where it was written, develops from a downtempo sketch into a heavier club track as the bassline builds, inspired by releases on Voam and Floating Points' live sets. 'It Never Made Sense' steps away from the dancefloor, built around a granulated Orion Sun vocal that, as Oscar puts it, "ties the track into quite a surreal space," leaning towards Burial, Overmono and Radiohead.

The title track, 'The Moon Belongs to You', runs a vocoded 90s ad through a detuned one-note synth. It's the track Oscar says "best encapsulates the intention of the EP as a whole: surreal, wacky and clubby." 'Yaya' keeps the energy up as a straight techno cut, its gated bassline locking in around a chopped vocal and pitched samples. Closer 'That's Quite A Lot Of Zeroes!' expands from a stripped-back Buchla line into something huge, driven by chopped samples and inspired by sci-fi scores like Dune and Annihilation.

The cover is designed by art director Will Millner with designer Josh Lowe, a homage to space food and 80s industrial design geared to survive life on the moon. It's available as a limited vacuum-packed 12" record.

The EP launches alongside a music video for 'It Never Made Sense', directed by Louis Mackay, telling the story of a group of kids who steal the moon for themselves.

Precious Bloom producer Dea returns on the Rush Hour Store Jams imprint with a fresh four tracker... tip!

The idea for Fairlight began shortly after Aradea Barandana purchased a Yamaha DX1 synthesizer. While exploring its presets, one sound in particular—called Fairlight sparked the initial concept for the EP. From there came the desire to create an Italo wave inspired track that would feel fresh to contemporary ears while still referencing the character of early electronic music.

Rather than following the traditional structure of dance music where drum machines and synthesizers lock into repetitive synchronized patterns the EP approaches composition more like a narrative. The music gradually unfolds, allowing melodies and harmonies to evolve so the listener is encouraged to stay with the piece from beginning to end.

Some of the harmonic ideas draw inspiration from Baroque music, particularly chromatic ascending progressions and voice-leading techniques. In contrast, other moments introduce playful bubblegum-inspired synth lines, adding lightness and color to the overall sound.

The result is a small collection of tracks that sit between nostalgia and experimentation where vintage synthesizers meet a compositional approach that values movement, surprise, and a sense of musical journey.

MEMPHIS, TN — Fat Possum Records and Hi Records are proud to announce the first vinyl pressing in half a century of Ann Peebles' 1975 album Tellin' It, fully remastered and recovered from the Hi Records vault, where it had sat untouched for decades. Available on vinyl in stores September 11, 2026 and can be pre-ordered now and also available streaming everywhere now. 
Peebles was at the height of her career when she recorded Tellin' It — coming off her biggest hit, "I Can't Stand the Rain," the year before. Produced by Willie Mitchell at Royal Studios in Memphis, with the grooves that defined the label's sound, backed by Howard Grimes' drumming and the Memphis Horns. 

"Peebles and Mitchell don't just recast "Rain" 10 different times—instead, they lean into the supple support laid down by the Hi Rhythm Section, who have plenty more uptempo grooves to offer." Andy Beta, Bandcamp
The original master tapes were sent to John Nicholson at Nashville Tape Transfer for their first listen in fifty years. From there, the project stayed close to home: remastered by Clay Jones in Taylor, MS, then back to Memphis for lacquers cuts by Jeff Powell (Take Out Vinyl), and was pressed & plated at Memphis Record Pressing.

They live! If this summer’s endless bout of heatwaves seems an odd setting for a new Altar Of Eden record, maybe we should consider that the fast-accelerating destruction of life on Earth is an appropriate setting for more deathrock. The eagle-eyed among you might recognise guitarist Ben Redman from recent lineups of symphonic noiseniks …And You Will Know Us By The Trail Of Dead, while vocalist Albert Efraim has been making a thrillingly unholy racket with Texan hardcore faves like the Creamers and Nosferatu - and they both played together in gothed-out sensations Altar Duata before that band’s untimely demise. Altar Of Eden have thus far produced two mighty LPs of smartly chilling post-punk for Drunken Sailor - 2020’s wondrous The Grotto Screams and 2022’s superb follow-up Chimeras - but now they return with a sequel to their debut: The Grotto Screams II.

In keeping with their previous offerings, it’s superb. Redman’s guitar is brittle and minimal, but lurches into eardrum-lacerating strafes of deafening, brutal noise without warning, while Jake Cloud brings driving, pulsating basslines to the fore, dripping with the influence of Killing Joke’s Youth as they hold it all together somehow. Efraim intones his lyrics solemnly over the top, drenched in reverb and tucked deep into the mix; as much a texture as a means of delivering hooks. He’s cited the poetry of Jean-Pierre Duprey and Rene Daumal as influences in the past, and tracks like The Erasure and Light And Shade certainly contain their own suffocating sense of surrealism and obfuscated reality. It all builds to the epic finale of closing track The Moon, which handles their signature tricks in moodily grandiose fashion - a bleakly compelling version of post-punk that sears and soars even as it chills the heart. Arguably Duprey’s most famous line goes, “I shouldn't have got stuck in this galaxy,” and as humanity brings about its own destruction, it’s worth suggesting that this applies to us all. But at least Altar Of Eden bring a hell of a soundtrack while we all burn.

There is an important difference between "mature" club vibes (leather porkpie hats) and "adult" club vibes (a post-ego-death experience of the world through the eyes of an Eames chair). Extrawelt's Jamborghini EP exemplifies the latter in ways that extend beyond sophisticated wordplay*. Well beyond.

Sophisticated electro-techno hybrids occupy an incredibly dangerous space. One false move and you corner listeners into an unsolicited conversation about "gain staging." The four tracks on the vinyl EP thread the needle in thrilling fashion, and then use that needle to stab at the sweet spot between sentient cell tower admin software vibes and the kind of architecture hot people like.

And with the digital exclusives, we've once again saved you from the depths of "bonus beats" hell by supplying three tracks that are as good as anything that has ever been pressed to vinyl. If your knee-jerk reaction is to doubt this, we would simply point out you haven't even heard them yet, and here you are talking shit. Go push your hateful agenda somewhere else.

Extrawelt are fast becoming a Turbo Recordings staple, and don't think the globalist EDM cabal hasn't taken notice. Jamborghini has already received heavy DJ support from Jumpin' Josh Junior, Monoburglar, Now or Never, Tiga, Never Say Never, Rumpled Glory, Moment of Truth, and the Hamburg Chamber of Commerce.

*Our best guess is that the title is meant to evoke a Lamborghini you can have a musical "jam session" in, and not the striking metallic purple Diablo SE30 driven by Jamiroquai frontman Jay Kay in the 1996 video for "Cosmic Girl."

Duality Trax reaches its tenth release with a defining moment for the label, as label boss Holly Lester steps forward with her debut EP. A personal milestone as much as a catalogue marker, the record channels sounds that have shaped her sound to date - early tech house, the low-end swing of UK garage and breakbeat, the rolling pulse of mid- 2000s European dancefloors, and the emotional lift of ’90s progressive house - all refracted through a distinctly personal lens. Open Your Mind sets the tone with a sense of lift and release: a wide, expansive bassline carries skippy, garage-tinged percussion, while bright piano stabs cut through guided by playful, restless FX. Big Fill pivots into tougher territory, a driving cut built on a rolling sub that pulls you into the groove - equal parts pressure and introspection, with moments of dreamlike suspension between the weight.

On the flip, Tanit drifts into more atmospheric space —an ode to Ibiza that still carries a distinctly UK undercurrent. A squelching, elastic bassline and cheeky, garage-leaning wubs provide a foundational groove but everything around it drifts: gated synths shimmer, drums sparkle, half-heard vocals dissolve into the mix and the track unfolds with a blissed-out, cruising energy. It feels just as natural in a dark room as it does out on open water, coasting past Formentera. For the remix, Holly turns to one of her favourite producers of the moment, DJ Life, who draws Open Your Mind into deeper waters. The Berlin via Australia producer stretches the groove into something more hypnotic and submerged, a patient 5am burner that lingers in the air,equally at home in basements, afterhours, and those inbetween moments as night slips quietly into day