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Supergroups existed before Emerson, Lake & Palmer formed in 1970. And, as we all know well, many came after. But few, if any, matched the English trio’s chemistry and its elevated combination of virtuosity, vision, and verve. Having influenced a multitude of followers, ELP’s prowess was obvious from the start. The band’s self-titled debut stands as a towering statement of creative imagination, execution, and discipline more than five decades after its original release.

Mastered at MoFi’s California studio, housed in a Stoughton jacket, and pressed at Fidelity Record Pressing, Mobile Fidelity’s numbered-edition 180g 33RPM LP of Emerson, Lake & Palmer presents the benchmark album in audiophile sound. Clear, dynamic, and balanced, this collectible edition honors the perfectionist approaches that both informed the playing and recording of the record.

Distinguished with black backgrounds, this reissue brings to light the epic scope, tonal depth, and mind-bending degrees of musicianship on display. Aspects — textures, nuances, effects, melodies, tempo changes — that go hand-in-hand with the trio’s compositions and interplay are rendered amid broad soundstages and delivered with pinpoint detail. Whether you’ve owned multiple copies of this touchstone or seeking out your first version, you’ll relish the presence, separation, imaging, and crispness that help make every song come across as if the group has set up shop in your listening space.

Opening the door to the seemingly infinite possibilities of progressive rock while steering clear of excess, Emerson, Lake & Palmer achieved a rare feat in that its complex, cerebral music didn’t prevent it from attaining mainstream success. The gold-certified effort launched the career of a band that would sell tens of millions of records. It also landed a Top 50 single in the form of the ballad “Lucky Man,” whose vocal harmonies, folksy strumming, multi-tracked instrumentation, and breakthrough Moog solo almost feel quaint in the face of the other fare on the album.

Comprised of genre-defying originals and hybrid arrangements of two classical pieces, the album Rolling Stone originally and rightly said is “best heard as a whole” matches outrageous ambition with the otherworldly skills of three musicians who remain among the finest to ever pick up their respective instruments. While Emerson soon drew the lion’s share of headlines for his ability on keys — clavinet, Moog, piano, Hammond organ, and pipe organ included — Greg Lake’s aptitude on guitar and bass, along with well as Carl Palmer’s monster talents behind the kit, created a three-headed hydra that devoured everything in front of it.

That extends to the radical reinterpretation of Bela Bartok’s “The Barbarian” that begins the LP, a performance that in less than four-and-a-half minutes runs the gamut from distorted to churchy to angular and blustery. More classical flourishes, keyboard wizardry, hard-rock heaviness, and gothic signatures emerge throughout “Knife-Edge,” which reimagines music by Leos Janacek and J.S. Bach — and ultimately invites you to explore a cathedral of sound teeming with separate bursts of keys and percussion.

And did someone say “drumming”? Check out Palmer’s monster salvo on “Tank,” a rhythmic showcase that marches out with knee-bent notes and mirror-reflected passages. Or dive into the mythological suite “The Three Fates.” Replete with three parts and Emerson playing the pipe organ at Royal Festival Hall, it shoots off sonic fireworks via sophisticated arpeggios, jazz improvisations, dancing counter-meters, sizzling chords, and a few explosions. Please don’t hold anyone at MoFi responsible if your system cannot handle it; this is heady stuff.

Indeed, everything on Emerson, Lake & Palmer is there for a purpose. Whether you aim to attempt to dissect all of the notes, shifts, and polyrhythmic bluster or just want to absorb this album as one living, breathing organism, this version invites you to do both as many times as you desire.

To celebrate the twentieth anniversary of their debut album ‘Employment’ (usually commemorated with the gift of china), Kaiser Chiefs are making three new expanded ‘China Anniversary’ formats available. The 1LP edition is pressed on white vinyl, and includes ‘bonus’ track ‘Take My Temperature’. Remastered at Abbey Road Studios.


Originally released in March 2005, ‘Employment’ peaked on the UK album chart at No. 2, and has since spent more than 17 months on the Top 40, selling more than 2.1 million copies in the process, and being certified 7 x Platinum status by the British Phonographic Industry. Similarly successful across Europe, the album’s longevity was aided by the hits singles ‘Oh My God’, ‘I Predict A Riot’, ‘Everyday I Love You Less And Less’ and ‘Modern Way’, and a series of triumphant performances that established Kaiser Chiefs as a ‘must see’ live act, building a loyal fanbase that stays with them today.

This is the first new Andy Boay album since 2013’s In The Light. I recorded it in January 2024 to a Yamaha MT8X 8-track cassette recorder in my room at the New York Center for Creativity & Dance in the East Village of Manhattan.

I mixed it in June 2024 with Joe Santarpia and Roberto Pagano at the Idiot Room in San Francisco. The three songs on Side A (“HBM,” “If I Ever Come Off,” and “You’re In The Air Now”) were initially arranged over several live performances using a multi-track looper. When I then sat down to track them to my tape machine, I meticulously sang and played out all repeating parts, layering and ping-pong-bouncing each doubled take to another tape-track. In this way I hoped to maintain the hypnotic quality of the looped parts while keeping them organic, singular, and fleeting. Side B is a triptych of more carefully arranged pop songs: a tremolo & mod-delay elegy to youth called “Careless,” bookended by two variations on the same theme — the stark, mellotron prayer of “One & One” and the lonesome after-hours funk of “I Want More”. The line “You took that walk for the two of us” has a dual meaning. In 2011, my friend Spencer Gilley took a long walk through Montreal while listening to demos I’d recorded.

He described the experience to me as magical, ecstatic, inspiring. His encouragement from that moment still echoes every time I sit down to write or record. Less than a year later, I met Florida musician Thomas Fekete. We formed a deep, brief friendship that lasted until his death in 2016. Thom entered my life during a chaotic time and helped me find direction and courage. He took me on a tour that shifted the course of my life. We bonded over surviving cancer as young men, Florida’s noise scene, and the strange lives we led as touring guitarists (he in Surfer Blood, me in Mac DeMarco’s band). Thom could always warmly anticipate all of my joy, humor, and curiosity—and all of my pain, anxiety, and fear. In this way, it felt like he was also taking that walk for the two of us—gently guiding me down a path he had already traveled. Andy Boay (Andy White) began playing and recording music as a teen in Orlando during the early 2000s, exploring noise, psych, and pop in bands and solo projects.

He has played in the duo Tonstartssbandht with his brother Edwin since 2007. He spent six years playing guitar in the touring band for Mac DeMarco. Andy Boay’s music taps the euphoric and the sorrowful, both onstage amongst friends and strangers, and tracking alone at his 8-track in the studio. These days he lives and works in the East Village neighborhood of New York City.

Joel Shearer’s Listening Immerses Itself in Ambient Guitar, Restraint, and the Beauty of Repetition

With guitarist and ambient composer Joel Shearer’s new album, Listening, he took the path of repetition, subtle movement, and pure sound rather than conventional songwriting. What began as a disciplined experiment — limiting himself to just electric guitar — soon expanded. At various points, he introduced piano, cello, and trumpet, allowing the record to evolve organically. "I didn’t know I was making another record,” Shearer says. “I was experimenting, wanting to do something beyond just the electric guitar. So, I started these other tracks, and that’s how Listening came about.”

Unlike albums built around hooks or dramatic shifts, Listening unfolds gradually, moving with patience and restraint. There are no choruses, no obvious climaxes — just sound evolving over time. “Instead of a traditional song structure with a verse, chorus, or B section, it’s one continuous movement that grows and dissolves,” Shearer explains. “It’s not about anticipating the next moment—it’s about sitting inside the sound, getting comfortable with patience.” A Topanga-based session musician, composer, and producer, Shearer’s previous solo albums, Morning Loops and Hours, explored the manipulation of only the electric guitar, using texture and repetition to push beyond conventions. Listening continues that journey, offering music that resists distraction and rewards deep attention.

Shearer recorded Listening without a click track, working in long, freeform takes. His shimmering, clean guitar tones—often unrecognizable, processed through looping pedals and effects—became a foundation, with layers of sound building around it. “I love making the guitar sound like anything but a guitar,” he says. “I might play for just a minute, but once the sound enters the effects chain, it takes on a life of its own. The music keeps evolving, stretching time in ways I couldn’t predict.”

The opening piece, “Big Sur,” is an 11-minute meditation that drifts in slow, hypnotic waves, its layered guitar textures sparkling like light over water. The piece moves without urgency, subtly transforming as it pulls the listener deeper into its atmosphere. “Threshold” features a delicate piano melody that gradually unfurls, allowing its essence to fully settle before the next emerges. Subtle layers of ambient guitar weave around the piano, stretching and dissolving into the background, creating a sense of stillness and slow expansion.

At nearly 15-minutes, “The Clear Light of the Void” is a slow-burning study in sustain and resonance. Layers of guitar stretch and dissolve into an open, drifting soundscape, each note lingering and shifting like a breath held in suspension. Subtle tonal variations emerge over time, creating a sense of vastness—an expanse where sound is less about movement and more about presence.

“The world is noisy—so much information, so much distraction,” Shearer says. “I wanted to create something that allows people to just be present with the sound, without expectation.” It’s an album that demands nothing from the listener but offers space — to focus, to drift, to listen without waiting for what comes next.

'In collaboration with the children of Nico Kasanda, better known as Docteur Nico, Planet Ilunga proudly presents an anthology dedicated to African Fiesta Sukisa, available as a 3LP set and a digital release with bonus songs. This release is the result of many years of preparations and was realized in close partnership with Liliane Kasanda, Nico’s eldest daughter. Marking forty years since his passing, we felt that the year 2025 was the right time to honor Docteur Nico’s legacy with this original collection.
'Almost all of the African Fiesta Sukisa songs were released on Nico’s Sukisa label which translates in Lingala for “the final accomplishment”. The music on Sukisa, crafted by Nico and legendary vocalists such as Chantal, Sangana, Apôtre, Mizele, Lessa Lassan and Josky, embodies the essence of that powerful phrase with genius, class and depth. The label ran between 1966 and 1975 and released approximately 280 songs. Ngoma also issued the group between 1967 and 1971 and, in addition, reissued material from the Sukisa label. Many of these songs have become part of the collective memory of Congolese society and are still heard, discussed, and analyzed daily across digital platforms worldwide, as well as on numerous Congolese radio and TV stations.
'The album we put together features some of Nico’s signature songs alongside never before reissued tracks from the Sukisa catalog. It furthermore contains a large booklet with song commentary, testimonial interviews from well-known musicians, journalists, fans and Nico’s entourage, besides never before published photography about his personal and musical life.
'Alastair Johnston, author of the book ‘A Discography of Docteur Nico’ and longstanding Planet Ilunga collaborator, designed a stylish booklet and cover using all our collected material. Audifax Bemba, longtime admirer, compiler and connoisseur of Nico’s music, and the author of most of the song commentary in our accompanying booklet, offers his portrait of Docteur Nico:
“After displaying technical virtuosity with African Jazz, expert and accomplished guitar with African Fiesta, which musicologist Sylvain Bemba described as a dream guitar, Nico Kasanda was consecrated ‘dieu de la guitare’ by the public in the late sixties. With his band African Fiesta Sukisa, Docteur Nico displays his wide palette of unusual sounds. While exploring the Hawaiian guitar with its clear, airy, plangent, psychedelic effluvia, he continues to replicate the piano comping technique, and adds two missing strings to his bow: a simulation of the sanza (likembé or thumb piano), whose sounds he reproduces right down to the noisemakers of the tiny tin rings, on the one hand, and the sounds of the Luba balafon on the other. The right note, in the right place, at the right time, is the triptych on which Nico Kasanda’s playing is based, a note dressed in the perfect sound. A guitar of pure emotion. With African Fiesta Sukisa, his playing takes a ‘Chopin-esque’ turn, sending out more notes in a sublime adagio. The true artist is the one who simplifies everything. Docteur Nico is a genius of our time, whose style makes him the supreme exponent of the most important guitar school in Congolese music. He is recognized by his peers as the greatest African solo guitarist of all time. Sculpting sound in a tireless quest for beauty, Nico Kasanda has sublimated the guitar throughout his career.”






























[xd] Kamulangu [Outro] (Dr. Kasanda – Sukisa 135) Folklore Baluba

US Black Friday 2025 Release. There are very few albums in the psych/punk/hard rock/private presses strata that garner the sort of universal awe and accolades that Fraction’s almighty Moonblood LP does, and even fewer records in the world that could be dubbed ‘Christian Rock’ incur such fierce devotion. Indeed some records just meteorically lift themselves out any genre tag with brilliance and sheer defiance--and Moonblood is surely one of them. Based in LA, Fraction was a ragged collection of working-class musicians--the line-up was ringleader Jim Beach--vocals; Don Swanson--lead guitar, Curt Swanson--drums, Victor Hemme--bass, and Robert Meinel--rhythm guitar. Beach himself describes those early days: “The guys met through various acquaintances that we had in LA. All of us had been in bands before, but were seeking something with more teeth. We had a small studio in an industrial complex in North Hollywood and started practicing sometimes as early as 4:30 AM. We all had day jobs, so we did what we could.”

Amazingly the recording sessions for the album were recorded similarly on the fly, as Beach further states: “The Moonblood recording took place at Whitney’s Studio in Glendale, CA, early in 1971. On a strict budget, these songs were recorded in less than three hours—all of them “one takes.” We played, all 5 of us, simultaneously-- there were no studio effects, no overdubbing or any additional sound effects added. Basically what you hear is considered ‘old school’ recording.”

This workmanlike description in no way prepares one for the pure tortured genius the session wrought. Particularly noteworthy is Beach’s vocals—as commonly stated, the spirit of Jim Morrison is conjured in his deep baritone, which gives way to unparalleled pained howls, at times bathed in delay which trails into the abyss. Fascinatingly enough, Beach cites the much punker Love as his fave LA band over the Doors, and also gives influence-nods to proto-everything rockers The Yardbirds and to Dylan, whose dark word tapestries surely inspired Beach’s lyrics (though lines from The Doors’ “L’America” pop up on the LP) Whatever the case, the man clearly has a vision, as even the stark sleeve concept is Beach’s own. Equally as integral to the Fraction sound is lead guitarist Don Swanson—his blown-out fuzz riffs set a template for what is now commonly known as “stoner rock” or “acid punk,” and his solos consist of jagged, wah-wah-ed shards of notes, with his amplifier clearly pushed to the limit.

Beach says: “Don’s guitar was always my driving force and he did everything he could to keep it over the top. You’d never know that (his sound) was coming from an old, broken down Esquire. Don kept it alive!” The other members contributions shouldn’t be underappreciated though-- drummer Curt Swanson keeps things at a constant simmer, and then boils over when the whole band launches into snarling glory. The band and LP as a whole equals something indescribably intense from start to finish—comparisons to the Detroit late 60s high-energy bands like The Stooges and MC5 abound, as well as the sort of late 60s damaged spirit lurking in biker clubs and disgruntled Vietnam vets. The song cycle on side 1 of the LP in particular cuts to the emotional core, with severely charged dark lyrics like “Extend your thumbs and burn the darkness out of her.” Which brings us to the Christian aspect--it often can confuse listeners. The Fraction/Beach world of religion is complex and perhaps a bit pagan/sinister than most---fire and brimstone, temptation, and the truth-seeker being burned by this hell on earth—or perhaps as Beach himself best put it: “Speaking for myself, as a believer, it’s been a progressive experience since my childhood.

I think we’re all basically driven to live more than religion.” The album was pressed in a run of but a few hundred to little attention in the day, but now inferior bootlegs flood the marketplace, and originals of Moonblood command thousands of dollars. So enjoy this all-inclusive reissue, which also features for the first time on vinyl, 3 lost tracks-- like the more acoustic-minded “prisms” and “dawning light,” as well as the proto-metal choogle of “Intercessor’s Blues.”

From 1968 through to the mid 1970’s the reggae beat began to slow down,some say due to the extreme heat hitting down onto Kingston Town and its surrounding enclaves. People needed something less strenuous to dance to. The Ska and Rocksteady Sounds (see 101 Orange Street KS007) that rocked Jamaica previously, had now found a slower tempo and become more ‘Dread’ lyrically to suit the times. Reggae music has always moved within the social climate it found itself in and this set here, as we ‘Return To Orange Street’ was ROOTS ROCK REGGAE TIME....

The Rastafarian message that runs through this collection of ‘Reality’, sometimes labelled ‘Sufferers’ music,is strong and works on many levels. It can come across on a heavy rhythm and vocal cut. Its example represented here by Prince Jazzbo’s ‘Dread in a Earth’ and ‘I Roy’s ‘Roots Man Time’, moving through to the popular new sounds of the DJ’s working over an old rhythm and alongside its existing vocal. As with Busty Brown working with Delroy Wilson's ‘Know Your Friend’ and Mr Jah Stitch working over Johnny Clarke’s ‘Roots Natty Roots’ to produce an even more dreader ‘True Born African’. The heartfelt lyric can also convey this message as we can see when Horace Andy laments ‘Where is the Love’ and Delroy Wilson again shows us on his ‘Who Cares’ cut. The great Twinkle Brothers also put the message across on their two cuts we have here, ’Too Late’ one of their lost classics if ever there was one and the thoughtful ‘It’s Not Who You Know’,being another prime example.

Orange Street itself is always at the heart of all reggae's musical changes and some singers also ride these waves as Mr Cornell Campbell shows us here with two cuts. The mournful ‘Too Be Loved’ and his uplifting ‘Girl of My Dreams’, which uses the same rhythm as our previously mentioned Prince Jazzbo’s 'Dread in a Earth’. Showing us that firstly you can’t keep a good rhythm down and secondly that two if not more great songs can work from the same source point. The light hearted ‘Vengeful’ lyric also worked in this period when artists spared off to each other on records to vent their frustrations. As we can hear here with Mr Lee Perry’s ‘You Funny Boy’. The song snipping back at a previous employer over what he felt were his misdoings to an under appreciated Mr Perry. We have culled these tracks together to show that the Dread Roots feel of the 1970’s came across in many guises and even in earlier songs these sentiments were also prevalent. As represented in Slim Smith’s almost bluesy feel in ‘Trying To Find a Home’, never a truer statement in Kingston's ghetto areas.

Well we hope you enjoy this musical journey and make a connection with messages portrayed here, as Mr Monty Morris points out on his contribution to this collection ‘Times Are Dread’.... Dread indeed.....

Quartz is a respected drum & bass head with a precise and minimalist - but always cinematic - production style and that's clear again on this new one for Droogs. The A-side features solo cut 'Duplicity', which is a stark and electrifying trip into drum & bass darkness with tight basslines and subtle shifts that prove less is more. The B-side, 'Black Prism,' sees Quartz team up with Overlook for a throwback to raw 90s techstep and all the tight but manic breakbeat action that comes with it. It's a tune of unrelenting tension that resolves into an unexpectedly serene close. Sophisticated stuff from all.

GATEFOLD DOUBLE VINYL WITH SPOT UV FRONT COVER

Following the skewed-unself-help-brilliance of ‘Sus Dog’ (which marked his first full foray into songs, abetted by Thom Yorke), and its companion piece ‘Cave Dog’, Chris Clark returns to the dancefloor’s simple, but no less affecting pleasures, with ‘Steep Stims’.
“I found it hard to pull away from listening to this record, hard to stop making it, I had to remove myself from the Stims and stop enjoying it at some point. The album feels like nature to me. I love it when electronic music feels more naturalistic than acoustic music, more potent, that’s the devil’s trick, the promise of electronic music.” comments Chris.
“I used an old synth - the Virus on all of the tracks. I used it at Mess in Melbourne - run by my friend Robin Fox - I loved it so much I had to buy one when I got back to the UK, it took a while to find. They’re a bit clunky to program but make some of my most favourite sounds.”
‘Steep Stims’ marks a back-to-basics approach, invoking the early years of gung-ho creativity enforced by limitations in technology at the time. “Most of the tracks on this album capture the spirit of making music on old samplers, which don’t have much memory time”, explains Clark. “It reminds me of making ‘Clarence Park’, my first album, where I would have to finish tunes in the session, as they would be saved on floppy disks and I couldn’t easily go between tracks. This new record is just a few synths and a few choice sounds; the writing is the important thing.”
Made quickly, ‘Steep Stims’ reflects the immediate rave energy of his live show, but that’s not to say it’s basic floor fodder, as it’s rife with personality, synth magic, and knack for melody. Although swift and impressionistically captured rather than laboured over, it’s still formidably deft, with plenty of oddball weirdness lurking beneath the dancefloor.
Soft, orange, scorched, brutal, the opening track ‘Gift and Wound’ captures the classic dance music dread / awe / euphoria combo perfectly, before ‘Infinite Roller’ merges sparkly-minimalism with snarling bass and soft sines, which turn more dense and metallic as it progresses.
The melancholic smoke belch of ‘No Pills U’ gives strong classic vibrations, which is belied by its creation, made in just 20 minutes. “I love working quickly sometimes”, comments Clark. “Inspiration hits, rough and ready. It’s off the cuff but also screams ‘don’t gild the lily with nonsense, keep it simple keep it clean’”. Segueing into its elder brother, the piece becomes bigger and beatier on ‘Janus Modal’, where it permutates for over 7 minutes of fluttering, beatific club majesty.
At ‘18EDO Bailiff’ you inexplicably find yourself at a clearing, things have suddenly got much quieter. You enter a decrepit and eerie old house, and as you move through its unsettling interior, you arrive at ‘Globecore Flats’. A real piano tuned to 18 notes per octave gives the pair of tracks a haunted, olde worlde feel, which promptly gets eaten by a huge tech step tearout monster, birthing a strange but exotic beast.
The white hot ‘Blowtorch Thimble’ is all hooktasm-rave-hyper-amen-energy, whilst acidic flute leaps around like Ian Anderson on pingers throughout the catchily simple jump-up lurch of ‘Civilians’.
“‘In Patient’s Day Out’ is like some sort of Morricone-does-kraut-rock-with-drum-machines, but that’s probably just in my head” says Clark. “I made several versions of this then went with the early mix but cranked through some choice outboard because it just had something.”
Drumless, yet still full of exhilarating-big-trance-drama, ‘Who Booed The Goose’ flashes by in stroboscopic fast forward, then ‘5 Millionth Cave Painting’ gives a palate cleanser, letting “the virus with its delicious broken, luxurious reverb have a moment”, before ‘Negation Loop’ swoops down in all its glory, with Clark’s tweaked vocals leading deconstructed trance breakdowns, tape edits and brutal noisebursts.
An antidote to the bombast of its predecessor is ‘Micro Lyf’, which closes the set on a poignant note, of sorts. Muted staccato gives way to field recordings “that gradually put it in this outside space; alien in a meadow somewhere nameless. It feels like a sinkhole. The record kinda swallows itself up and then is gone”, ends Chris.

2025 Repress

DJ Koze exists both above and beyond club culture as we know it - his albums and remixes flying free from genre and trend - and symbiotically woven into its heart. Yes, he always abstracts and weirds out the principles of house, techno, hip hop, pop, psychedelia, exotica and so forth, but he does that because he understands them. And when it comes to club-demolishing tracks, he understands those principles as well as just about anybody on earth. Thus he could create an enduring club tune like 2015's 'XTC' that is strange, contemplative, even disturbing, bore little relation to anything around at the time, yet still got bodies moving and sweating better than way more obvious techno bangers. And thus the Knock Knock album, which melts a million genres and none into one another, can comfortably include 'Seeing Aliens". 'Seeing Aliens' unquestionably is a banger, its bass riff snaking around your body like a python, its high-drama strings, pianos and outbursts of noise designed for maximum crowd pressure release. But, again, it sounds like nothing else, and its dynamics and twists unfold over eight and a half minutes in ways that will mess with your head every time no matter how many times you hear it. The exclusive b-side track, 'Nein König Nein' ("No King No"!), meanwhile, is slightly gentler on the face of it: it's less about sonic pressure, more about hip-shaking syncopation. But it too tells strange fairytales in its peculiar and brain-tweaking accumulation of detail, and though you'll hear archetypal sounds from the heart of house and disco in it, every last one of them becomes new and otherworldly.

Aitcher Clark steps out from his work as one half of LOFN (Veyl, 2021) with a first solo long-player that draws a sharp line between the club and the cinema.
The 6-track LP moves with intent across ambient space, industrial techno frameworks, and restrained neoclassical harmony. It favors patience over peaks, detail over spectacle, and a narrative arc that rewards a
start-to-finish listen.
The campaign begins September 19th with the lead single “Improperly Planned Experience”, an industrialleaning cut driven by a relentless drum pattern and an eerie, immersive atmosphere. Stark and physical, it sets the tone for the album with its focus on tension, texture, and shadow rather than melody. On the same day, Clark will debut a new live and visual show at Lunchmeat Festival in Prague in collaboration with visual artist OXOO, translating the record into an immersive set where sound design and reactive visuals lock to the micro-gestures that run through the album. The performance is built around custom stems, live resampling, and dynamic lighting cues that mirror the music’s push and pull.
Across the LP, Clark threads field-recorded texture with precision drum programming and layered harmonies, avoiding predictable drops in favor of pressure that accumulates over time. The palette is cool and tactile: detuned pads, clipped low-end, and percussive details at the edge of audibility. Moments of clarity, strings, voice-like synths, negative space, arrive as structural markers rather than ornaments.
For Veyl, the album sits comfortably within a catalog that values forward motion and atmosphere, while opening a more composition-driven lane. For listeners who followed LOFN’s 2021 release, this solo debut widens the frame: less collaborative call-and-response, more solitary architecture, with the same focus on tension and timbre. The live show with OXOO extends that idea beyond the record, using visual rhythm and color to render the music’s internal logic in real time.

Pelican has always been a band that's not just from Chicago, but distinctly of Chicago. Formed in 2000 by guitarists Trevor Shelley de Brauw and Laurent Schroeder-Lebec alongside brothers Bryan and Larry Herweg on bass and drums respectively, Pelican's foundation was built upon the rule-free, genre-agnostic scene synonymous with the Fireside Bowl. "The `90s in Chicago was a free-for-all. Everyone was just coming from a place of pure creativity," says Shelley de Brauw. With Schroeder-Lebec returning to the band following Dallas Thomas' exit in 2022, this reunified version of Pelican allowed the band to tap back into those influences and build something distinctly new with Flickering Resonance. While longtime Pelican fans will find an updated version of the band's ethos_one that's been constantly evolving since their very first EP_their new partnership with Run For Cover Records emphasizes something that's always been implicit to the Pelican formula. These songs take as much inspiration from titanic `90s post-hardcore, space-rock, and emo as they do traditional metal, showing that though Godflesh and Goatsnake records occupied the shelves of Pelican's songwriters, so too did Quicksand, Christie Front Drive, and Hum. "A lot of people didn't hear it," says Schroeder-Lebec. "I was like, well, I guess the metal world is where we fit. But now, I'm willing to acknowledge all the suits we're wearing." On Flickering Resonance, Pelican allowed themselves to look at their music less as a means of hard-earned catharsis and more as an appreciation for the glimmers of joy that occur even in the bleakest landscapes.

Unchained is the long-standing guitar-based project of Nate Davis, originally from Providence, RI, and based in France for over a decade. In his two most recent LPs—Gabbeh (2024, A Colourful Storm) and Frontalier (2025, Stern Records)—Davis strives to describe a new path for outsider jazz instrumentalism that remains committed to harmonic and rhythmic form while placing greater emphasis on sonic texture through experimental production techniques.

Release Description:

Unchained—a name which at the project's inception or on earlier recordings spoke perhaps to the ecstatic saturation of high gain guitar—has over the past three albums (N.D. Visitor, Pic, and Gabbeh) come to represent more and more an acknowledgement of and sensitive remove from a crashing world. An excuse of oneself from trend towards a siloed artistic development.

On Frontalier, Nate Davis crosses further into this patient personal lexicon of guitar composition, presenting a new set of richly developed songs and leaps in arrangement which may very well shock Unchained fans the world over. The sympathetic geometric guitar themes of the earlier second-period Unchained style are almost entirely absent, making way for a fully realized presentation of the jazz, MPB, and fusion influence present to varying degrees on the previous three albums. Davis's keen sense of melody and songcraft have never been stronger, here landing on music which is at moments evocative of Wes Montgomery, Allan Holdsworth, Jobim, or the jazzier impulses of Lô Borges. Distinct in Davis's music, however, is what these references might belie: an innate tending towards repetition as an affective tool—one which has less to do with the aesthetics of the scene from which the project emerged than it does with devotional prayer. In this way it feels as if Unchained has always been music for living. What was once a maximalist expression of youth has matured into the sound of living with and in the world and an empathic transmuting of all the joy, disappointment, and ambivalence that comes with it. Songs that feel like the sort of thinking one does looking out the window on a long train ride, or the routinism of internal and external life and the breaking out of it. As much as it will be recognized by the fandom as a significant step forward, Frontalier serves also as a perfect gateway for new listeners to the singular music of Unchained.

As trans-Atlantic alchemists pulling from a shared dialectic that somehow encompassed both postmodern deconstructionist tendencies and a delightfully subversive sense of poptimism, it’s easy to see how David Cunningham and Peter Gordon immediately hit it off upon initially meeting each other back in the late-1970s at the height of their youthful transgressions. Having initially worked together on the second Flying Lizards’ LP fourth wall, with its ingenious fusion of dismantled rhythms and rearranged melodies juxtaposed against the slyly sultry singing of Snatch’s Patti Palladin— with Gordon adding a few sprinkles of mischievous sax in the mix— it’s no wonder the collaboration would lead to further musical adventures.

Which leads us directly to the genesis of The Yellow Box. Embarking on a collaborative exercise in the structural repurposing of music as untethered puzzle pieces in need of rearrangement with no predetermined outcomes, the duo gave birth to a project that would see them move through both time and recording studios across Europe, taking nearly two years from 1981-1983 to complete. Enlisting the great Anton Fier on drums from The Feelies/Lounge Lizards nexus and John Greaves on bass from Henry Cow/Soft Heap lore to round out their dueling creative counterparts, the album would be something of a lost treasure until its eventual release on Cunningham’s Piano imprint in 1996.

Cinematic in scope, and filled with drifting drones, beautiful counter-melodies, eery minimalism, Kraftwerkian synthesizers, looped voices, skronky interludes, and other shifting undercurrents of sound, it was an album that utilized both a diverse array of expressive languages, as well as early sampling techniques and prepared instruments, well before most people were thinking in such expansive, integrated terms at the dawn of the 80’s. But such is life at the vanguard of new music. And one of the reasons that it likely sat on the shelf for so long before finally being released well over a decade later. Like a sparser, less groove-oriented version of My Life in the Bush of Ghosts, or a more radical take on the experimental work of Can’s Holger Czukay, The Yellow Box stands at the crossroads of time and technology, fusing multiple strands of musical thought and compositional techniques into a disjointed whole that somehow still comes off as a conceptually complete record.

Now, here it is again, over 40 years later, with perhaps even more historical resonance than it had before, remade and remodeled just waiting to be rediscovered again.

Calling a Deicide album “more accessible” is kind of like calling a velociraptor less lethal than a T-Rex…you’re gonna die either way. But on 1997’s Serpents of the Light, the fourth album from the Tampa death metal quartet, Glen Benton’s rage-filled imprecations are a little more intelligible and songs like “Slave to the Cross” and “Blame It on God” do sport choruses that verge upon being hooky (if you have a meathook in mind). The anti-religion invective remains unabated, however… this remains music in extremis despite the stripped-down production. For its first-ever standalone U.S. LP release, we’ve remastered Serpents of the Light for vinyl and given it an Orange Smoke pressing complete with an inner sleeve featuring lyrics and a 12” x 24” poster of the cover image. Not for even the faintly faint of heart

Calling a Deicide album “more accessible” is kind of like calling a velociraptor less lethal than a T-Rex…you’re gonna die either way. But on 1997’s Serpents of the Light, the fourth album from the Tampa death metal quartet, Glen Benton’s rage-filled imprecations are a little more intelligible and songs like “Slave to the Cross” and “Blame It on God” do sport choruses that verge upon being hooky (if you have a meathook in mind). The anti-religion invective remains unabated, however… this remains music in extremis despite the stripped-down production. For its first-ever standalone U.S. LP release, we’ve remastered Serpents of the Light for vinyl and given it an Orange Smoke pressing complete with an inner sleeve featuring lyrics and a 12” x 24” poster of the cover image. Not for even the faintly faint of heart

Léo Dupleix return to Black Truffle with Round Sky, following the enchanting Resonant Trees (BT119). The composer here performs on analogue synthesizer, harpsichord and spinet as one member of Asterales, a group that brings together four important figures in the international community of musicians working with just intonation: Dupleix, Jon Heilbron (double bass), Rebecca Lane (quarter-tone flute) and Frederik Rasten (guitars). The quartet perform three recent pieces by Dupleix, each of which is like a different view on the same landscape of unruffled calm, where the unique harmonic events made possible by just intonation flicker across melodies and harmonies like light on the surface of water.

The first side is dedicated to ‘Poème d’air’, composed while Dupleix was immersed in the music of 14thcentury ars nova composer-poet Guillaume de Machaut. A sustained study of the ‘sonic possibilities of low-pitched sounds in just intonation’, it begins with a long, rumbling pitch from Heilbron’s bass, soon joined by the organ-like tones of the composer on synthesizer. The piece is made up of cycling sequences of chords, each of which is repeated for several minutes before the music either freezes on a single harmony or silently pauses before the next episode begins. These structures are initially dominated by the bass and synthesizer, with Lane’s pure vibrato-less flute tone and Rasten picked harmonics adding flashes of colour. As the piece develops, flute and guitar become more prominent and the bass climbs to higher registers. The development culminates in a stunning episode around fifteen minutes in where the texture thins out, casting a spotlight on a melodic figure exploiting the uncanny sound of Lane’s quarter-tone flute.

On the second side we are treated to two briefer pieces, closer to the sound of Resonant Trees as they return harpsichord and spinet to the foreground. ‘Ghosts’ centres on a harpsichord melody that slowly expands as it repeats, growing from a haunting six-note cell to a flowing succession of notes whose shape become increasingly difficult to perceive. Alongside this melodic development, an increasingly lush accompaniment grows, with long tones from bass, flute, e-bowed guitar and synthesizer holding notes picked out the harpsichord melody in a swaying harmonic cloud. Dupleix notes that the concluding ‘Round Sky’ was written in the countryside in spring, a circumstance that seems far from irrelevant to the impression the piece makes when its euphonous spinet arpeggios emerge from a gentle synthesizer drone like a flower from a bud. Performed as a duo with Rasten, with both instrumentalists also singing, this title piece exemplifies what makes Dupleix’s music so unique: grounded in a rigorous application of just intonation principles yet as open as Harold Budd or Andrew Chalk to an uncomplicated, intuitive experience of beauty.

Dutch artist Sander van der Toorn returns to Kit Records, following his much-loved work with analogue-decayed folk duo Love is Yes, in 2024. While Sander's signature haze of tape-smeared synthesis and motorik guitar is ever present, "kom-kom" represents a departure from the elysian warmth of Love's debut.

The industrial throb of tracks like 'FIVE' and 'Rainhum' bear the deconstructed hallmarks of krautrock pioneers Neu!, and even the dystopic glow of artists like Plastikman or Pole. When kom-kom's harmonic ambitions resurface, such as on the synapse-aching 'Dwarsdoor', or the glassy structures of 'Hazenhart', the effect is startling.

van der Toorn cites the inspiration of Morton Feldman and Sarah Davachi when describing his work less as a linear listening experience, more a collection of sculptures that can be viewed from different angles. In this way, kom-kom doesn't have to move forward; the encounter can be one of stillness, of static objects given movement by the beholder's shifting perspective.

Sounds like: John Fahey being stretched into infinitely long pieces of spaghetti.
Recommended if you like: intercontinental rail travel, Mark Fisher, a nice malbec.

Limited edition of 100 cassettes, with risograph printed artwork.

Acclaimed electronic musicians, producers and sound architects Max Cooper and Rob Clouth team up for a new collaborative EP; a dark, playful four-track dive into ambient, breakbeat and techno’s subconscious flow, featuring a standout vocal performance from South London rapper FLOHIO.

Recorded over a series of spontaneous London sessions, “8 Billion Realities” channels years of creative exchange between two of the genre’s most quietly innovative artists and is a result of a decision between the longtime friends to refrain from conceptual overthinking in favour of instinct and joy.

As long-time admirers of each other’s audio/visual work, Cooper and Clouth collaborated in London together after both emerging from intense, idea-heavy album cycles. What followed was a series of exploratory sessions, half-improvised, half-built around half-formed thoughts.

The result is a club-ready EP that feels alive and human: imperfect and hypnotically rich.

“Rob Clouth has been one of my favourite electronic music producers since I first heard his work in 2011,” says Cooper. “His work is more full of ideas and structure than anyone else.” “We were both coming from extensive conceptual studio albums and both in the mood for simplifying things and having some fun with the music, so that’s what we did”.

For Clouth, no stranger to Max Coopers Mesh label having previously released an array of EP’s plus his 2020 debut album “Zero Point” this record marks a new chapter, both creatively and personally.“Something pretty new for me is collaborating,” he says. “You kind of have to when to stop, because if you develop an idea all the way to its endpoint, the other person has nowhere to jump in.”

The first “A Moment Set Aside” began as a break from another idea, a live, unplanned improvisation based around arps and ambience. “The track was written in about as long as it took to play it,” says Cooper. “It was pulled from a 1 hour recording session, more or less as you hear it… the energy and excitement grew as the unplanned moment bore some magic.”

“The lesson being that sometimes it’s helpful to set aside a moment without forcing results, and let the subconscious have something to say.” What followed was darker, heavier. “Asymptote” is detuned techno. Subversive and euphoric in its descent. “We found a sort of brain mangling, half consonant, half wandering detuned techno pulse, which we started chatting about being a sort of pit of spiralling body parts we were falling into,” says Cooper. “It was a lot of fun to work on and let loose with bigger kicks than I usually ever get to unleash.”

Then came “8 Billion Realities”, featuring a standout rap performance from FLOHIO; an emerging figure in the UK grime and rap scene. The track was inspired by conversations about algorithmic echo chambers and hyper-personalised online worlds. Frantic, direct, and South London to the core, FLOHIO brings this tension to life. Her sharp, intense flow cuts through distortion and rhythm, landing the track somewhere between chaos and control instantly making it one of the most striking moments in either artist’s catalogue. “A different reality for all 8 billion of us,” says Cooper. “We weren’t sure if it would work… but there was something about the energy of the percussive idea and the story which felt like it might fit.” “Then FLOHIO had a play with it and straight off the bat absolutely killed it, not just with the lyrics and energy, but the harmonising too, it was a beautiful process.”

The final piece on the EP “Candeleda” originated from Clouth’s solo experiments with a live rig made entirely of vocals and keys, using his self-developed “cheatbox” system. “He put forward a beautiful stumbling melodic sequence which we bounced back and forth adding harmonies and synth layers,” says Cooper. “It rounds off a collection covering some of the breadth of music that we both love.”

funcionário delights in the freedom of creating freeform music for the first time in his career. On “horizonte”, he loosens the reins, his sound follows a wavy, organic structure rather than a rigid, formal one. If it feels freer and more colourful, that’s because it truly is.

Eight years ago, when we first encountered his work, he was composing soundtracks for imaginary video games and crafting sonic landscapes that felt like destinations for sci-fi anime characters. With “Cavalcante” (2022), he broke away from that past. It marked a turning point, he was ready to explore a “fourth world” in both sound and concept. The feedback was overwhelming.

Three years later, “horizonte” marks another evolution. He sends us music regularly, but this album stood out immediately. It felt right: more synth-driven, more open to improvisation. As he put it: “It’s like using oil pastels for the first time and discovering new possibilities. In a way, I’ve found new ways of creating using the same colours.”

Listening to horizonte is like waking up from a dream. Again and again. The opening track, “nascer”, suggests a new dawn, but it’s in “pássaros” that the vision fully takes flight: less processed, more raw, yet still detailed and expansive.

Finding new ways with the same colours has been his quiet mission all along. What’s new here aren't the tools, but the feeling. The movement. The invitation to travel with him. You can hear - and feel - his sense of wonder. Every sound radiates joy. Every moment sparks a new thought. The music moves quickly, but breathes slowly.

Tracks like “renascer” and “o caminho do regresso” echo the spirit of late-70s/early-80s Vangelis, in deep reverence. And just as you approach the end, “fantasma” arrives - a stunning closer, reminiscent of Eno’s “An Ending”. By then, it’s clear: the “fourth world” is behind him. funcionário has moved on. To where? We’re about to discover.

Marcel Dettmann's 'My Own Shadow' is the latest chapter in the Berlin-based legend's illustrious career. The live project is, in his own words, "a space where all of my artistic expressions meet," blending techno with film, sketches and photography. The shows are less club sets and more immersive experiences, where the audience gets lost in a "full sensory narrative." "My solo work has always been open, evolving across records and remixes," Dettmann added.

My Own Shadow's first official release, Approaching, is a five-track EP landing on !K7 Records in November. Complemented by his own photography on the artwork, the music spans techno and ambient, fizzing with a madcap funk and energy quite unlike any of his previous productions.

VITAL SALES POINTS
Renowned Berghain resident and contemporary techno stalwart Marcel Dettmann introduces his brand new project and alias My Own Shadow - after his latest releases on Running Back and Dekmantel. EU, UK and US tour dates during the campaign.

Lénok’s 'Langue of Tongue' is a descent. An unhinged pinballing down a realm of incomprehension and lunacy, a darkly psychedelic ego-death-spiral into a world of pure, deranged disquiet. It is, and this cannot be emphasised enough, a truly fucked up place. It comes complete with clearly marked borders delineated by its opening and closing tracks '(Entrance' and 'Exit)’. The message is clear: this is less album than zone.

There's no comfort to be found here. It’s like the inner monologue of some insectile, cyborgian abomination, something unfeeling and hostile, something that could only thrive in a mirror world that perverts light and sullies warmth. It's a netherworld: tracks jut out and stab like cold, craggy wastelandscapes, tangled meshworks of alienic transmissions bleed out into deformed knots of gurgling white noise, lacerations of sound roil and heave and claw as if imprisoned within oppressive waveforms.

‘Tongue’ is marked by a kind of wackiness, a demented slapstick that renders its darkness all the more sinister. Voices wail and taunt like schizophrenic spirits trapped between torment and cackling ecstasy. Tracks giggle and skitter as if populated by grinning, snaggletoothed shadows.

‘Langue of Tongue’ is recommended for the curious and advanced listener. This is music for whatever the opposite of escapism is — it’s REAL twisted. But sometimes morbid fascination takes hold. Sometimes you lift the rock, because you can’t help it, and you observe the squirming mess of life it plays host to. What you experience may not be pleasant, but you might just struggle to tear yourself away.

‘A Tremendous debut. Skilfully blending folk, country and other styles, Woof’s eponymous debut album features thoughtful songwriting, adroit musicianship and her remarkable, crystalline vocals’ - 4/5 RECORD COLLECTOR

‘Enchanting. Whether playing almost solo or with a full band arrangement, Wooff is never less than mesmerising’ - 4/5 SHINDIG!

‘Her spectral voice and acoustic guitar lead abstract stories of loss, yearning and self-exploration, nimbly embellished with pedal steel, organ and strings. ‘The Waltz Of Winter Hey’ and ‘Lefty’s Motel Room’, with its allusive nod to Townes Van Zandt, are outstanding’ - 8/10 UNCUT

‘Launching herself fully onto the scene, she beguiles with tales of love, loss, hope and womanhood, wrapped up in a beautifully strange gothic romanticism’ - FOR FOLK’S SAKE

‘The beauty in the record is not merely based on Toria’s melancholic melodicism and rich delivery. It can be enjoyed in the juxtaposition between the singer’s darker, more eerily gothic instincts and the soothing, reassuring presence of instruments like pedal steel and cellos.’ - KLOF

So Fades the Light is an eerie horror thriller that makes for unsettling watching. That is no small part thanks to the equally haunting score from composers Blair French (an ambient and Balearic producer from the Detroit area) and Dave Graw (a fellow Motor City musician and visual artist), who forgo melody in place of atmosphere. It means their soundtrack is a living, breathing presence that's less about music a more of a sort of ghost that refuses to leave. Graw and French sculpt a world of distortion, static and whispered tones that feel dug out of crumbling ruins. It’s bleak, patient and unrelenting, always pulling you deeper into the lead character Sun’s fractured memories and the menace of her past. As a standalone release, it’s equally gripping: a record that blurs ambient, horror and noise into one oppressive atmosphere.

So Fades the Light is an eerie horror thriller that makes for unsettling watching. That is no small part thanks to the equally haunting score from composers Blair French (an ambient and Balearic producer from the Detroit area) and Dave Graw (a fellow Motor City musician and visual artist), who forgo melody in place of atmosphere. It means their soundtrack is a living, breathing presence that's less about music a more of a sort of ghost that refuses to leave. Graw and French sculpt a world of distortion, static and whispered tones that feel dug out of crumbling ruins. It’s bleak, patient and unrelenting, always pulling you deeper into the lead character Sun’s fractured memories and the menace of her past. As a standalone release, it’s equally gripping: a record that blurs ambient, horror and noise into one oppressive atmosphere.

OOOOH! by Alex Bad Baby Lukashevsky with Cocoa Corner (2025)

Celebrated veteran of Toronto’s music scene, known for his boundary-pushing approach to folk and avant-garde music, twists rock music into strange and brilliant new shapes with the help of young jazz players, U.S. Girls, and his own immensely talented son.



OOOOH! is hard on the outside and soft on the inside. Made in the spirit of unity,
humanity, and poetry — disobediently renouncing the glory of personal triumph for the
generosity of an honest experiment. On the last track of the album you’ll hear “Or do you only ever never want to make a single enemy? / That’s not freedom or humility / It’s nothing, honestly.” Oooh, that's a bad baby!

A celebrated Toronto songwriter and performer, Alex Lukashevsky has always been disobedient. Which simply means, nothing is off the table when he’s looking for his
poetic voice; when trying to find the realest I of the teller. As he sings on the lead track “that musician that’s dead” The musician is radical/ it’s the world that’s demented/ listening with their eyes, the music looks dented/ they’re over-represented.
OOOOH! was recorded in January 2024 at Sound Department in Toronto, engineered by Patrick Lefler (ROY), mixed by Grammy-nominated producer Matt Smith. All the songs were tracked live off the floor in two days, with one extra day for recording vocals, to keep the recording fully alive and breathing. As leader of Deep Dark United, as a solo performer, and a sideman in Brodie Wests’ Eucalyptus and Luka Kuplowsky’s Ryokan Band, Alex has been an outsized influence on the Toronto music scene that spawned acts like Broken Social Scene and Owen Pallett. (Pallett, who has toured with Lukashevsky, went so far as to record an entire album’s worth of Alex’s songs, backed
by a full orchestra.)

Lukashevsky has approached each of his albums and projects as something completely new, using only the musical boundaries he creates with each song. Even when he
has recorded songs with nothing but his voice and his own acoustic guitar accompaniment, the results are never “stripped down” or “back to basics,”
Gong! How do you get to heaven / have fun! have fun!
It’s cool to approach music as a game of “spot the influence”; Burt Bacharach-meets-Black Flag; Lana Del Rey-meets-LCD Soundsystem etc. Glorified mash-ups are promising because of their conversational nature. But they can turn us into hyperboreans; blowing cold air beyond ourselves while doing what we can to remain warm. To devise a game or a narrative is to have a winner and a loser, but we all know that just as you win/ so you lose. And does anything really change? Alex Lukashevsky and Cocoa Corner are more at ease drawing blind contours or playing an old game like consequences. They let things add up without knowing particularly how. Cognition is recognition.

Lukashevsky, in addition to writing all the songs, plays guitar and sings on OOOOH!, doing both in ways that are soulful and spikey at the same time. Joining him on guitar and vocals is his oldest child, Charlie Lukashevsky, who, at 23, is already a talented performer and songwriter in his own right. Cocoa Corner also includes Aidan McConnell, an in-demand drummer and composer, Jack Johnston, a jazz bassist and Barry Harris acolyte, and percussionist Evan Cartwright (The Weather Station, U.S. Girls, Cola, Tasseomancy), who plays steel pan and marching drum.

Working with his son and with other younger musicians is central to the album’s
unpredictable aesthetic. It reinvigorated the sound in unexpected ways. Lukashevsky says, “I had to reconsider my own instincts. I had to deal with being 99 years old.”
In addition to these performers, the album includes a tasty contribution from Meg
Remy, the visionary musician and producer who is the leader of the critically acclaimed
project U.S. Girls. Remy duets with Lukashevsky on the imagistic and sprawling album
closer “things keep happening.”
About that album title: OOOOH! is taken straight from “that musician that’s dead” an
arch and unhinged comment on the exertion required to navigate a lifetime of music making.
Lukashevsky’s delivery of that one emotive word is a kind of cultural posture, but also a
hundred percent primitive expression. The impact is never less than visceral. His vocal
delivery ranges through rich baritone blues to keening falsettos to a kind of sprechstimme that periodically steps out from the music to grab the listener’s shirt. He
doesn’t sound too nice, but he is sincere. When life gives you lemons lament.
For OOOOH! his first official full-length album since 2012’s Too Late Blues, (a collection of knotty-yet-effervescent tunes built upon the enchantingly serpentine harmonies of Lukashevsky and his vocal collaborators, Felicity Williams (Bahamas, Bernice) and Daniela Gesundheit (Snowblink, HYDRA)), Alex has once again broken apart and rebuilt his own approach to music. Or rather (because that sounds too over-determined), he
has allowed his music to build itself into strange new shapes that only fleetingly and
coincidentally, but happily, resemble anything that might be called rock and roll. There is some editorializing within the song’s lyrics— Lukashevsky even cheekily contributes to the “spot the influence” game with the line “Muddy Waters, Rite of Spring!” a funny preemptive strike against anyone already reaching for some variation of avant-blues to describe what the song is up to here. In fact there are many names checked on this record (literally and in spirit); they are the lily pads that trace the path of this expression! Palestrina, Peter Pears and Benjamin Brittain, Andrés Segovia, Stravinsky, Lotte Lenya, Alice Coltrane, Skip James, Chuck Berry, D’Gary, Betty Carter, Mukhtiyar Ali, Chuck D, Yoko Ono, Hailu Mergia, David Bowie, Jane Siberry. rhythm is a skeleton mansion / haunted by melody / feckless prodigy / the world is under a spell / cast by some demon angel / Practice day and night / Try as hard as hell / no one can sing that well Musicians are often worried by the way in which they are prepared to fail rather
than how they would like to succeed; it’s such a deep concern that it tempers their creativity and shackles their process. Current cultural proclivities, tend to comfort a certain kind of artistic failure and abnegate another kind. How many testimonials, full of heartfelt care and investment, have you heard for Taylor Swift, and yet a craftsman like Chris Weisman is often dismissed easily as though he’s doing something anti-social. what’s throwing itself in my ears and my eyes / arrogant devil ad hominem christ.
The music you will hear on this recording veers off in multiple directions at once,
and features a rock and roll spirit with a divergent heart. This is no sclerotic clomp of the Average Rock Song, but in fact a flood of humanity in all its darkness and moodiness and unpredictability. If most performers make songs that are like sports cars or pickup trucks to drive around, Lukashevsky has built something more akin to a rowboat in a tree: it’s weird and beautiful.

A record born of insurmountable joy and simultaneous profound loss; World Maker marks a time of great change for Psychonaut, both personally and musically, as the band burn away the philosophical narrative complexities of previous offerings with a searing, panoramic clarity that implores us to savour the beauty of the now as a means of leaving a legacy for the future. The traditional, three-piece line up of Belgian, psychedelic post-metal collective Psychonaut has long belied the compositional prowess, captivating narrative depth and crushing live presence of a band now operating at the forefront of forward-thinking, contemporary heavy music. Having sent a shockwave through the post-metal and prog scenes with their three times repressed Pelagic Records debut Unfold The God Man in 2020 before following it up with the transformative metaphysical complexities of 2022's Violate Consensus Reality, Psychonaut have played prestigious Belgian open-air festivals like Alcatraz, Rock Herk and Boomtown Festival as well as boutique events such as Soulcrusher, Roadburn Redux and A Colossal Weekend whilst sharing stages across Europe with the likes of Amenra, Brutus and Pelagic labelmates The Ocean and PG.Lost. The seed of World Maker took shape just as the campaign for Violate Consensus Reality came to a close, with the news that guitarist/vocalist Stefan De Graef was to become a father. This tilting of life's axis led De Graef, like most fathers-to-be, to re-assess what was really important. As such, the music he was inspired to write felt free of the band's previous philosophical and spiritual foundations and instead took the form of life lessons for his unborn son, a legacy of love in case something were ever to happen. This hopeful euphoria shines keenly throughout World Maker as an uncharacteristically optimistic warmth; from the reverberating Rhodes organ on the titular opening track and the meandering, free-jazz inspired guitar solo that introduces `Everything Else is Just The Weather' to elements of world music, electronica and the otherworldly voice of Dutch multi-instrumentalist and old friend Anthe Huybrechts (Anthe/Helion Creek) most notably on tracks like `Origins' which also features tabla, a pair of indian hand drums, as its propulsive heartbeat. Whilst Psychonaut's giant riffs, punishing polyrhythms and guttural vocal rage are more resplendent than ever, there is a wider dynamic spectrum to World Maker that sees the band proudly exploring their more delicate, intimate extremes as well as their most aggressive and abrasive. Not long after the birth of De Graef's son came the devastating news that both his own father and Psychonaut bassist/vocalist Thomas Michiels' father had been diagnosed with advanced cancers. Living day-to-day and torn between joy and grief, the band found themselves shedding the grand scope and world-shattering agenda of Violate Consensus Reality to focus on the here and now. Lead single `Endless Currents', the first full track on the album, explodes in a barrage of staccato guitar tapping but mellows to let the powerful, newly pared back lyrics ring out as a call to embrace the flow and follow joy. The song's final few words `Lead the way. / Soar. / Everlong.' double as both a greeting and a goodbye as the trio build their formidable post-metal might to a thunderous breaking point. Similarly, the pulsing, propellant `Stargazer', named so for De Graef's son being born in stargazer position, pairs delicate guitar motifs and folk-inflected optimism with huge and sprawling breakdowns as some of the band's most genre-pushing work to date; asking difficult but important questions of what happens next. It is `And You Came With Searing Light' though that most immediately exemplifies Psychonaut's redirected ambition on World Maker, as euphoria collides with blinding fury. The first track written for the album, `_Searing Light' is easily the most complex and initially wouldn't sound out of place on Violate Consensus Reality. Originally meant to be the new album's opening track; the decision to defer its impact, not to mention its compositional and dynamic gravity, speaks of a fundamental change to the band's very core. The words "Discover the world with wide eyes" recurring throughout speak as much to those having lost a part of their world as they do to those seeing it for the first time. Amidst such turbulent times, the band found strength and support within their Post-Metal community. The album was recorded and produced by the band alongside their longtime collaborator and close friend Chiaran Verheyden (Hippotraktor) with help and advice from Psychonaut's live engineer Victor, who will no doubt make this album sound just as awesome on stage. Even the artwork for World Maker was a family affair, being designed by close friend Sam Coussens of Belgian cosmic sludge metallers Pothamus. In the face of life's soaring highs and desolate lows, World Maker is direct and brave without sacrificing any of Psychonaut's raw power, creative innovation or inimitable musical depth. Where their previous full-length offerings have charted grand introspective courses through time and space, World Maker is breathtaking in its uncompromising clarity: a father singing to his newborn son as a son bids his own father farewell. FOR FANS OF Mastodon, Russian Circles, Tool, Gojira, The Ocean, Pelican, Hypno5e, Cult Of Luna, Amenra

The anticipation is there in Elizabeth Stokes’ solo guitar riff under the opening lines of “I’m Not Getting Excited”: a frenetic, driving force daring a packed Auckland Town Hall to do exactly the opposite of what the track title suggests.

As the opener of The Beths’ Auckland, New Zealand, 2020 expands to include the full band, the crowd screeches and bellows. It’s a collective exhalation, in one of the few countries where live music is still possible.

The album title, and film of the same name, deliberately include the date and location, lead guitarist Jonathan Pearce says. “That’s the sensational part of what we actually did.” In a mid-pandemic world, playing to a heaving, enraptured home crowd feels miraculous.

In March 2020, everything seemed on track for another huge year for The Beths. Home after an 18-month northern hemisphere tour, they had just finished recording sophomore album Jump Rope Gazers and were primed for more extensive touring. But within days, New Zealand’s lockdown split the band between three separate houses. All touring was cancelled.

“It was existentially bad,” Stokes says. As well as worrying about economic survival, they lost something crucial to the band’s identity: live performance. “It's a huge part of how we see ourselves... What does it mean, if we can't play live?”

The band found an outlet through live-streaming, returning to the do-it-yourself mentality of their early days to connect with a global audience. The album and film have their genesis in that urge to share the now-rare experience of a live show, as widely as possible.

The fuzzy-round-the-edges live-streams pointed the way aesthetically. Native birds, wonkily crafted by the band from tissue paper and wire, festoon the venue’s cavernous ceiling while house plants soften and disguise the imposing pipes of an organ. The presence of the film crew isn’t disguised: much of the camerawork is handheld; full of fast zooms and pans.

With much of the material still fresh, the band was less focused on re-invention than playing “a good, fast rock show”, Pearce says. The tempo is up on crowd favourites “Whatever” and “Future Me Hates Me” (released as a live single on its third anniversary) as both band and audience feed off the mutual energy in the room.

Certain songs have taken on special resonance post-Covid. Pearce has found “Out Of Sight”, a tender rumination on long-distance relationships, hits particularly hard with live audiences.

Album closer “River Run” visibly brings Stokes to tears as a mix of achievement and relief kicks in. “You can finally relax at that point … You play the last note, breathe out a sigh and look up - and you’re in a giant room full of people happy and smiling.”

Le Motel and Bruce Wijn met at school, during a school art trip to Munich. They went separate ways for a long time.

Hailing from Brussels, Le Motel's world is a vortex of sight and sound that takes in the many and varied corners of the planet. As a music producer and film composer his versatility has taken him to festivals and clubs in every direction as naturally as he has ventured out to the less accessible areas of the globe as a field recordist. It's somewhere in between these spaces that Le Motel operates, gathering unique experiences and sounds to channel through his studio.

Bruce Wijn is a Brussels-based guitarist who played in several postrock kind projects such as Sound Film, 52 Commercial Road, or more shoegaze Lazy Sin. These collaborations gave him the opportunity to perform in various locations in Belgium, France, England, and the USA. As a musician, his focus has always been attracted by progressively built rhythmic melodies, which would eventually turn into long reverberated or distorted swells, or the otherway round.

All these experiences brought them both to the idea of scoring movies with different yet similar approaches.

That's how their first collaboration happened as Le Motel was working on the soundtrack of the movie Binti, and invited Bruce Wijn for the track Exode, in 2018. Since then, they've been working on other scoring projects, such as the feature film 'Aller Retour' more recently.

Alongside the movie scoring activities another audiovisual live project was born, in collaboration with Antoine de Schuyter and his mesmerizing images.

This one is more focusing on tape textures, field recordings and glitchy effects in order to build atmospheric tracks that they decided to bring together in a first E.P. 'MAAR'.

'MAAR' is elaborated as a soundtrack for an imaginary journey between cold seas and volcanoes explorations.

From the first echoing sounds of playing kids on the shoreside in the opening track 'La Perche' Le Motel & Bruce Wijn let you slide in a technicolor dreamworld, reverbing slowly innocent childhood memories into a chilled, out of range, future.

'MAAR' dives deep into a kaleidoscopic microcosmos watching Nautilus playing hide and seek with 'Captain Ahab' floating on sonic breaking waves, while seagulls gently spread their wings flying through the breezy and misty clouds of Blankenberge.

Lava vulcanica slowly melts in the sad euphorica of the cold North Sea, crystallizing sounds only Le Motel and Bruce Wijn can deliver.

A record born of insurmountable joy and simultaneous profound loss; World Maker marks a time of great change for Psychonaut, both personally and musically, as the band burn away the philosophical narrative complexities of previous offerings with a searing, panoramic clarity that implores us to savour the beauty of the now as a means of leaving a legacy for the future. The traditional, three-piece line up of Belgian, psychedelic post-metal collective Psychonaut has long belied the compositional prowess, captivating narrative depth and crushing live presence of a band now operating at the forefront of forward-thinking, contemporary heavy music. Having sent a shockwave through the post-metal and prog scenes with their three times repressed Pelagic Records debut Unfold The God Man in 2020 before following it up with the transformative metaphysical complexities of 2022's Violate Consensus Reality, Psychonaut have played prestigious Belgian open-air festivals like Alcatraz, Rock Herk and Boomtown Festival as well as boutique events such as Soulcrusher, Roadburn Redux and A Colossal Weekend whilst sharing stages across Europe with the likes of Amenra, Brutus and Pelagic labelmates The Ocean and PG.Lost. The seed of World Maker took shape just as the campaign for Violate Consensus Reality came to a close, with the news that guitarist/vocalist Stefan De Graef was to become a father. This tilting of life's axis led De Graef, like most fathers-to-be, to re-assess what was really important. As such, the music he was inspired to write felt free of the band's previous philosophical and spiritual foundations and instead took the form of life lessons for his unborn son, a legacy of love in case something were ever to happen. This hopeful euphoria shines keenly throughout World Maker as an uncharacteristically optimistic warmth; from the reverberating Rhodes organ on the titular opening track and the meandering, free-jazz inspired guitar solo that introduces `Everything Else is Just The Weather' to elements of world music, electronica and the otherworldly voice of Dutch multi-instrumentalist and old friend Anthe Huybrechts (Anthe/Helion Creek) most notably on tracks like `Origins' which also features tabla, a pair of indian hand drums, as its propulsive heartbeat. Whilst Psychonaut's giant riffs, punishing polyrhythms and guttural vocal rage are more resplendent than ever, there is a wider dynamic spectrum to World Maker that sees the band proudly exploring their more delicate, intimate extremes as well as their most aggressive and abrasive. Not long after the birth of De Graef's son came the devastating news that both his own father and Psychonaut bassist/vocalist Thomas Michiels' father had been diagnosed with advanced cancers. Living day-to-day and torn between joy and grief, the band found themselves shedding the grand scope and world-shattering agenda of Violate Consensus Reality to focus on the here and now. Lead single `Endless Currents', the first full track on the album, explodes in a barrage of staccato guitar tapping but mellows to let the powerful, newly pared back lyrics ring out as a call to embrace the flow and follow joy. The song's final few words `Lead the way. / Soar. / Everlong.' double as both a greeting and a goodbye as the trio build their formidable post-metal might to a thunderous breaking point. Similarly, the pulsing, propellant `Stargazer', named so for De Graef's son being born in stargazer position, pairs delicate guitar motifs and folk-inflected optimism with huge and sprawling breakdowns as some of the band's most genre-pushing work to date; asking difficult but important questions of what happens next. It is `And You Came With Searing Light' though that most immediately exemplifies Psychonaut's redirected ambition on World Maker, as euphoria collides with blinding fury. The first track written for the album, `_Searing Light' is easily the most complex and initially wouldn't sound out of place on Violate Consensus Reality. Originally meant to be the new album's opening track; the decision to defer its impact, not to mention its compositional and dynamic gravity, speaks of a fundamental change to the band's very core. The words "Discover the world with wide eyes" recurring throughout speak as much to those having lost a part of their world as they do to those seeing it for the first time. Amidst such turbulent times, the band found strength and support within their Post-Metal community. The album was recorded and produced by the band alongside their longtime collaborator and close friend Chiaran Verheyden (Hippotraktor) with help and advice from Psychonaut's live engineer Victor, who will no doubt make this album sound just as awesome on stage. Even the artwork for World Maker was a family affair, being designed by close friend Sam Coussens of Belgian cosmic sludge metallers Pothamus. In the face of life's soaring highs and desolate lows, World Maker is direct and brave without sacrificing any of Psychonaut's raw power, creative innovation or inimitable musical depth. Where their previous full-length offerings have charted grand introspective courses through time and space, World Maker is breathtaking in its uncompromising clarity: a father singing to his newborn son as a son bids his own father farewell. FOR FANS OF Mastodon, Russian Circles, Tool, Gojira, The Ocean, Pelican, Hypno5e, Cult Of Luna, Amenra

Mister Water Wet returns to Soda Gong with "Things Gone and Things Here Still," an album that radically expands the project’s purview while preserving the homespun warmth and oblique tactility that have long defined Iggy Romeu’s work. Where earlier records tilted toward the dusty swing of sample-based beatcraft or spectral minimalist jazz, here Romeu opens the frame to a more ensemble-minded approach, inviting a stellar cast of supporting musicians, including SG alumni Memotone and K. Freund, into the fold.

The result is an album that feels both broader and more intimate, with live instrumentation such as piano, strings, and reeds woven into MWW’s signature lattice of hand percussion, production sleights, and slippery time signatures. Acoustic and electronic textures bend toward each other like plants angling for the same light: bowed strings blur into vaporous pads, brushed drums scatter under riffing guitars, a horn phrase lingers in the same space as a cracked cassette loop.

A tension between decay and presence - the “things gone” and the “things here still” - runs throughout the record. At times, the music evokes a chamber session refracted through waterlogged tape; at others, it recalls the afterimage of a hip-hop instrumental slowed into an oneiric haze. In the world of MWW, memory functions less as nostalgia and more as a living fabric - mutable and resonant. "Things Gone and Things Here Still" finds Iggy Romeu at his most expansive, offering up a generous record of open spaces and porous boundaries.

The World Is a Beautiful Place & I Am No Longer Afraid to Die return October 17 with Dreams of Being Dust, an album that finds the Connecticut-formed collective plumbing the depths of emotional ruin and emerging with their most scorched, unrelenting work yet. Co-produced by guitarist Chris Teti (Fiddlehead, Anxious) and Greg Thomas (END, Misery Signals), the album exchanges the band"s usual sprawl for something more serrated-folding djent-like heft and post-hardcore volatility into their post-everything DNA. Dreams of Being Dust is the band"s fifth studio album, and follows up their well- received 2021 album, Illusory Walls, which arrived as their "heaviest, proggiest, most audacious release to date" according to Stereogum. Tackling complex social and political themes like religion and capitalism, Pitchfork praised its scathing indictments as "fuming with resentment for the ruthless greed and self-interest fueling societal collapse. If Illusory Walls was their grand reckoning, Dreams Of Being Dust is the aftermath: raw, furious, alive. But even amid the chaos, the band"s core remains intact-a belief in community, resistance, and making sense of the world through sheer volume and vulnerability. TWIABP have always blurred the lines between hope and despair, and here, that duality feels sharper than ever. Now a decade in, the band- David F. Bello (vocals), Chris Teti (guitar/ vocals), Joshua Cyr (bass), Katie Dvorak (synth/vocals), Steven K. Buttery (drums), and Anthony Gesa (guitar/ vocals)-deliver a message that sounds less like a eulogy and more like a rallying cry.

SKA was the name given to the music that came out of Jamaica between 1961-1966. Based on the American R&B and Doo-wop records that the Sound Systems in Kingston Town used to play. However, the American records style started to mellow out, while the Jamaicans preferred a more upbeat sound. So the Sound System bosses became record producers to cater for this demand. Sir “Coxonne” Dodd and Duke Reid led the way putting the top musicians on the Island in the studio to make music unmistakably Jamaican. A lot of their early recordings were cut at Federal Records before they built their own studios.

Federal Records was the first domestic Jamaican studio, based at 220 Foreshore Road, Hagley Park, Kingston. It opened it’s doors in 1961 owned by Ken Khouri who first licensed American records to the island of Jamaica, before cutting his own tunes, which were some of the first Jamaican RnB and Ska singles. Ken Khouri initial studio was Records Limited but very basic so with the help of engineer Graeme Goodall built the new studio complex at 220 Foreshore Road which also contained a pressing plant and disc cutting room. The studio was not only the forerunner for Ska music but the music that followed and in 1981 Ken Khouri sold the complex now on the renamed road Marcus Garvey Drive to Bob Marley who renamed the premises Tuff Gong Studios whose legacy carries on today.

We have compiled some of the best SKA SOUNDS that came out of the Federal Vaults, with some of the best artists, musicians from the time. The great Lord Tanomo, Don Drummond, Rico Rodriguez, Roland Alphonso, alongside some lesser known artist. However, one thing is for sure, the quality never drops on this fine collection of Ska Hot Tunes……

Stone classic Bullwackies (as excursioned by Rhythm & Sound for Burial Mix), sensationally featuring two unreleased dubs, newly extracted from the master reels. Both are equally unmissable but quite different, with contrasting effects: the second dub adds ninety seconds, including whip-dem spring reverb. Drawn from the Selective Showcase LP, the vocal mix is more open and dubwise than the Sing & Shout LP offering, with less keyboards.
Asked whether it should be mash or march, after some pondering Bullwackies replied: "That's a good question.'

Returning with its final instalments, Die Schachtel's Decay Music series extends its explorations of inspired contemporary experimental efforts of the ambient, ethereal, and emotively abstract with Luigi Turra and Elio Martusciello’s “Liminale” and Sergio Armaroli and David Toop’s “And I Entered Into Sleep”, two astounding electroacoustic gestures of blurred space and time, plumbing complexity of meaning bound to sonority. Creatively groundbreaking and inspired, radically rethinking the terms of what ambient music can be perceived to be, they stand among the most striking efforts to appear within the series to date.

An aural bridge between two distinct generations of Italian experimental musicians, “Liminale” is the debut collaborative outing from the creative partnership of Luigi Turra and Elio Martusciello. Active within the context for roughly two decades, Turra (b. 1975) is a reductionist/electroacoustic composer, noted from his tense deployment of concrete and acoustic sources — particularly small sounds and noises — whose work threads the balance between silence, tactile auditory perception, and aleatoric music. Martusciello (b. 1959), on the other hand, is a musician and composer working across the fields of acousmatic and electroacoustic composition, sound installation, multi-media and audiovisual art, and computer music improvisation, who is widely celebrated for both his solo efforts and his collaborations with Eugene Chadbourne, Mike Cooper, Alvin Curran, Chris Cutler, Rhodri Davies, Iancu Dumitrescu, Michel Godard, Tim Hodgkinson, Lawrence D. "Butch" Morris, Jérôme Noetinger, Tony Oxley, Evan Parker, Z'EV, and others.

A single, nearly 40 minute work, extending across the two sides of the LP, “Liminale” — as its title eludes — is an exploration of the liminal through sonic means: “places that exist on the threshold, transitional spaces suspended between a before and an after, between the real and the evanescent” conceiving the soundscape as “a liminal place, a space to be inhabited without the certainty of where it leads.” Unfurling like a labyrinth navigated in darkness, the piece’s first half is marked by sparseness and restraint, as slow-paced guitar tones and harmonics thread silences and resonant ambience within a sprawling sense of space, delicately populated by tiny sounds, fleeting punctuations drawn from undeterminable sources, vocal utterances, and the unexpected appearance of intoxicating piano tones.

As “Liminale” progresses into its second half, Turra and Martusciello enter a more densely populated notion of the in between. No less defined by the presence of space and mystery, discreet textures rustle and writhe within passages of pure concrete abstraction and a fragmented, stretched sense of musicality: long-tones, metallic pulses, minimal vibrations, processed vocalizations, guitar harmonics, and deconstructed piano melodies, buried in spectral, gauzy hazes drifting from beyond arm’s reach within an imagistic and immersive landscape of profoundly meditative scope, where each sonic element flirts the line between emergence and disappearance.

Intimate, fragile, and achingly beautiful, “Liminale”, Luigi Turra and Elio Martusciello’s debut collaboration, is a masterstroke in sound-craft and composition, revealing the potency of meaning locked within transitional spaces and the undefined, and imbuing silence with monumental gravity and weight. Mastered for vinyl by Giuseppe Ielasi, and taking electroacoustic minimalism to an etherial extreme, “Liminale” is issued as the ninth entry in Die Schachtel’s Decay Music series, highlighting inspired contemporary experimental efforts of the ambient, ethereal, and emotively abstract.

Erik K Skodvin's feature-length score to Thomas Roth's thriller "Schächten" feels like the epitome of all his musical projects, conjuring a dark cinematic trip through 1960's post-WWII Vienna in a film that touches on topics such as law, justice & revenge.

Releasing a soundtrack as a stand-alone album can be challenging; and "Schächten" is by no means a typical listening experience. The record contains 24 more or less short pieces evolving through dramatic movements, underlaying menace and deep emotive scenes. One thing that stands out is the linear atmosphere throughout the story which creates a wholeness that keeps your attention to the very end. Set in wintery Austrian landscapes in dimly saturated colours, the film's dramatic events with dark political undertones feels like a perfect situation for Skodvin's atmospheric collages - perhaps sounding closer than ever to his early works as Svarte Greiner or Deaf Center. Cello, violin, piano, analogue synth and plenty of hardly recognizable instrumentation come together in a record that feels very organic in its subdued tones. The score also features percussion by Andrea Belfi as well as a Chopin piano interpretation by Kelly Wyse to the bizarrely schizophrenic piece "Judenfreund".

With the contemporary world sliding into darkness again, listening to the soundtrack feels like coming to terms with ones own anxieties - something that in the end comes through as a cleansing experience. As quoted in the film "Everyone is their own devil. And we make this world our hell".

Short synopsis : "Vienna 1960s - The young Jewish business man Victor has to witness how the prosecution of a Nazi crime against his family fails. The political and legal system is still virtually run by former Nazis with large parts of society being entangled in the past. When Victor also loses his grief ridden father and his girlfriend’s family opposes their relationship and his identity, Victor begins to loose faith in formal justice and takes matters in his own hands."

The Complete Piano Etudes of Philip Glass available for the first time on vinyl, housed in a 4LP Box set (also available as a 2CD format).



After more than thirty years of working with and performing the great repertoire, the music of Philip Glass has, in a way, almost revolutionized my life as a musician,” confides Vanessa Wagner.

An emblematic artist on the French music scene, winner of a Victoire de la musique award and director of the Chambord and Giverny festivals, Vanessa Wagner is as inspired in her interpretation of Mozart, Debussy, Tchaikovsky and Dusapin as she is alongside Murcof and Rone.

With her innovative and daring approach, she has established herself as a major influence on the classical music landscape, crossing boundaries and blazing inspiring trails.

A tireless pioneer of new repertoires, she has been exploring the repertoire of minimalist composers for several years. For InFiné, she has dedicated 4 albums to the major figures of this movement, John Adams, Meredith Monk, Brian Eno, Ryūichi Sakamoto, as well as to the new generation Caroline Shaw, Bryce Dessner and Nico Muhly.

After giving numerous concerts based on these works, she felt the need to record in their entirety this essential monument in the history of music, which bridges the gap between the 20th and 21st centuries: Philip Glass's 20 Etudes for piano
by Philip Glass.
His approach helps to place these two books in the great repertoire, alongside the great cycles of studies by Ligeti, Debussy, Dusapin, and before them, Chopin and Liszt.

Philip Glass was born in 1937 and grew up in Baltimore. He studied at the University of Chicago, the Juilliard School and in Aspen with Darius Milhaud. Dissatisfied with much of what was then considered modern music, he moved to Europe, where he studied with the legendary pedagogue Nadia Boulanger (who also taught Aaron Copland, Virgil Thomson and Quincy Jones) and worked closely with sitar virtuoso and composer Ravi Shankar.

The thread linking Philip Glass to Vanessa Wagner may be as simple as a detail: a moment, a pedagogy, a way of looking at the piano. In Words Without Music, Glass recalls his apprenticeship with Nadia Boulanger in Paris - a lesson in rigorous received just as the Nouvelle Vague was about to shatter the conventions of cinema the conventions of cinema, just as the composers of the minimalist movement had done with with the language of music. Nurtured by Ravel and Debussy, the great French pedagogue disciplined yet inquisitive minds, capable of embracing modernity without denying modernity without denying their heritage.

An extremely rare Northern Soul 45 RPM single originally released in 1965 on the Holly label, Billy Arnell And The Sparkles "Tough Girl" was the product of two childhood friends that lived less than a block apart in suburban Fairlawn, New Jersey in the early 1960s - Billy Smith and Lou Hemsey.

Billy played guitar and sang; Lou played guitar and wrote songs, so they decided to form a band. They added friends Eddie Hoffman on organ and Jack Gullone on drums and began playing lots of gigs locally as Little Willie & The Sparkles. They were young, ambitious, and imagined themselves as the next Beatles. By a stroke of fate, they met Joe Martin of Apex-Martin Distributors in Newark, NJ, who caught the band's live show and was duly impressed. That meeting led to the recording session for the "Tough Girl" single. When they recorded the first version of the song, the producer wasn't happy, nor was Joe Martin - so he fired that producer and brought in the young, up and coming producer, George Kerr. Kerr didn't care much for the band, so they redid the entire thing without Hoffman and Guilone - with just Billy singing and Lou playing guitar.

The pair of old friends were buoyed by session aces Eric Gale on guitar, Bernard Purdie on drums, Bobbie Banks on organ, as well as a bass player whose name has been lost to time. In addition to those changes, they used the studio horn section that Hemsey arranged for, plus two trumpets, two saxes and two vibes players. The resulting single was an infectious amalgamation of rock and soul. Billy changed his surname to Arnell for the 45 release (because he thought it sounded more "show-biz") and the rest is pop history. Arnell later started a record company (Fire Sign Records) and purchased a recording studio (112 Greene Street Recording) in the trendy SoHo section of Manhattan with Steve Loeb.

As for the rest of The Sparkles, Hoffman became a teacher somewhere on Long Island, Guilone graduated from the Culinary Institute of America in Massachusetts and ended up living in Northern New Jersey. Hemsey became a well-known recording engineer, composer (Lou was the one who wrote "Tough Girl"), guitarist, arranger, orchestrator, editor, film director and producer for records and commercials.

Unknown Waveforms is the forthcoming album from Belgian trio KAU, set for release on October 10, 2025. Marking an evolution since their 2023 release The Cycle Repeats, this new record captures a more personal, immediate, and unfiltered version of the band's sound. In an increasingly digital world, KAU takes a different route, with an album rooted in human connection, live energy, and creative spontaneity. Here, the trio reflect their take on instrumental music, drawing heavily fromjazz, hip hop, and electronic influences.

At the heart of Unknown Waveforms lies the starting point of three musicians in a room, writing and composing music on the spot. For KAU, this idea mirrors their working method: long jam sessions, free-flowing experimentation, and shared moments of inspiration. Songs often take shape slowly, unfolding over hours or days, but always built collaboratively as a trio.

The album's title reflects the mystery behind how music comes together, but is also both literal and symbolic. Unknown waveforms are the sounds that arise when machines and people interact in unpredictable ways. Whether you're an experienced musician or just starting out, the creative process often feels elusive and hard to fully understand. But there are also certain moments: creative sparks that can't be planned or programmed. It ends up being more than notes, gear, or structure, it's about the process, the tension and energy that builds when people connect and create in the same room.

The title track, Unknown Waveforms, captures that exact process. It opens with a quote from synth pioneer Wendy Carlos: "I'm just trying to show you how we get some of these sounds", inviting listeners directly into the creative space. The track focuses less on a polished outcome and more on the moment before a song is "finished": it's a portrait of experimentation, feeling, and raw expression.

This commitment to honesty permeates the entire album. KAU kept overdubs to a minimum, avoided excessive editing, and prioritized spontaneous choices over calculated ones. In a time when the future of live, improvised music feels uncertain, they double down on the physical, the real, and the immediate. The album resists the pristine polish of modern production, favoring the warmth and imperfection of analog synthesis. The band embraces the character of their instruments, particularly vintage gear, where subtle flaws add beauty, depth, and personality.

One standout track, cr_eye, is driven by the Moog Subphatty-a key instrument in the band's toolkit for its analog warmth and powerful sub-bass. The track centers around the conversation between bass and drums, allowing the keyboards to recede and create space. It draws emotional threads from earlier KAU tracks like Kampala and Kautokeino, bridging past and present with a shared atmosphere and rhythmic interplay.

Another highlight, Stratford, finds inspiration in London's transport system and the UK jazz scene that has long influenced KAU. A field recording snippet of the London Underground kicks off the track, connecting it to the rhythm of everyday commutes. Built around a hypnotic sequencer line from the Roland JX-3P, the track evokes the motion of a metro journey. Artists like Nubya Garcia, Yussef Dayes, and Alfa Mist, giants of the scenethat the band has admired for years, resonate subtly throughout.

Above all, Unknown Waveforms is a statement of intent from KAU: a celebration of imperfection, creative honesty and an insight in the process.

The Keith Tippett Group's Dedicated to You, But You Weren't Listening is a landmark in cutting edge fusion/avant-jazz. A vital and profoundly adventurous Jazz-Rock record that still swings very hard, it was first released on Vertigo in 1971.

Original copies are now very tricky to score and, as most of you really should know, it’s aged ridiculously well.

A legendary work, this Be With re-issue has been newly remastered from the original Vertigo master tapes, demonstrating just why this deserves to be back in press. The stunning gatefold jacket fully restores Roger and Martyn Dean's original, arresting album artwork to complete this must-have reissue.

Alive and bursting with a joyful energy that has to be heard to be believed, Dedicated to You, But You Weren't Listening flirts with perfection. It's truly magical and forever essential.

A brilliant jazz pianist, composer, arranger and bandleader "who could make the outlands of modern music feel like the most hospitable of places" (The Guardian), Keith Tippett's second album is oft-regarded as his Canterbury album.

Indeed, not only does he draw heavily on Soft Machine members past, present and future but the album title itself archly references a Soft Machine composition. Ray Babbington handles bass alongside Neville Whitehead and the drums are shared between Brian Spring (Nucleus), Robert Wyatt(!) and Phil Howard (who would go on to replace Wyatt in Soft Machine). Gary Boyle (Isotope) is on guitar whilst the great percussionist Tony Uter is enlisted for his conga and cow bell expertise. Elton Dean on Alto Saxello, cornetist Marc Charig and Nick Evans on trombone round out this quite stunning ensemble.

Dedicated to You, But You Weren't Listening presents a collective of superhuman musicians really, *really* enjoying themselves in the studio. The sheer exuberance of the performance is totally infectious. It's wild, energetic, atmospheric and, bluntly, bordering on chaotic at points. In a word, it's beautiful.

Robert Wyatt's drumming opens the record with a bang on the majestic Be With favourite "This Is What Happens". Some have described his work here as "easily the most inspired of his career on record." It's an ultra-funky conga-driven groove that truly sparks via the duelling interplay between the three horn players. In the background, Keith's insistent piano, in conversation with those unignorable drums, is the anchor that keeps this piece rollicking away. Breathtaking.

The epic, energetic "Thoughts to Geoff" is a 10-minute jammer that tends towards the dissonant and improvisational but becomes more fluid, laconic and melodic as it unravels. The interplay between soloists and ensembles is particularly dazzling here - blazing solos by Evans, Charig and Tippett himself in a flourish of angular arpeggios interspersed with chordal elocution. Phew.

Up next, the no less-urgent Mingus-referencing "Green and Orange Night Park" is a soaring example of ambitious jazz mixed with rock aggression, with Dean strutting his stuff by launching into a scorching solo. An absolutely jaw-dropping piece. Arguably the highlight of this album of huge highlights!

Though much of the album tends to fall on the raucous side ("Gridal Suite" approaches free-jazz at its most chaotic and, dare we say it, "difficult"), there are a few more sedate, at times spacey numbers, such as the deeply impressionistic "Five After Dawn". The rhythmically complex "Black Horse" is the most accessible track here, a sort of swinging Big Band number with tight grooves, soaring horn & reed melodies, a sizzling Boyle guitar solo and tasty electric piano riffs from Tippett. An hypnotic climax to a staggering record.

This Be With edition of Dedicated to You, But You Weren't Listening has been re-mastered from the original Vertigo master tapes, Simon Francis’ mastering working together with Cicely Balston's cut at Abbey Road Studios to weave their usual magic with these wonderful recordings. The stunning gatefold sleeve has been restored in all its brainchild glory so you know you're dealing with the definitive reissue, here. Now, are you listening?