Buscar:light cycles

Auke Riemersma (aka Aux Tha Masterfader). Erio Simonini and Gilberto Caleffi (aka Disco Doubles). Together this partnership from The Netherlands and Italy form Light Cycles, a trio raised on sci-fi sound tracks and smouldering synth anthems. These influences are omnipresent in the group's debut 12': Flowing. Addictively catchy hooks and clean beats are central to the Light Cycles' sound with their dazzling melodies glimmering across the 12'. Elements of disco are folded into these spirited compositions as this forward-looking triumvirate marry past inspirations with a hope-filled future. Seamless radiance. Simply put, Flowing.

Two Piers proudly announces the upcoming release of Bridges Towards Open Spaces: Circadian Rhythms 1967–2025.

This new collection brings together a wide range of artists and styles, weaving immersive sonic landscapes that explore a connection between natural cycles and the rhythms within.

Featuring artists such as Brian Eno, Moebius, Roedelius, Meat Beat Manifesto, Fun Boy Three, Daniel Avery, and Spectrum, the compilation moves fluidly between shimmering ambient textures and raw, straight-ahead garage rock.

Bridges Towards Open Spaces: Circadian Rhythms 1967–2025 follows in the footsteps of Two Piers acclaimed previous releases, Night Train: Transcontinental Landscapes 1968–2019 and Music for the Stars: Celestial Music 1960–1979, continuing the label’s exploration of expansive, time-spanning musical journeys.

“I wanted once again to shape a compilation around a time period, this collection is a nod to my days behind the counter of a record shop, the people I met and the styles of music that was played and I was introduced to. Some are from that time, some are of the style/feeling, that I can associate & with the friends I met there; from the early shift to the late shifts as the tempo rose throughout the day and the neons of London started to buzz”

The album will be available on Limited Vinyl and CD in May, arriving just in time for the longer, warmer days and the shifting light of the Seasons Sun.

Two Piers proudly announces the upcoming release of Bridges Towards Open Spaces: Circadian Rhythms 1967–2025.

This new collection brings together a wide range of artists and styles, weaving immersive sonic landscapes that explore a connection between natural cycles and the rhythms within.

Featuring artists such as Brian Eno, Moebius, Roedelius, Meat Beat Manifesto, Fun Boy Three, Daniel Avery, and Spectrum, the compilation moves fluidly between shimmering ambient textures and raw, straight-ahead garage rock.

Bridges Towards Open Spaces: Circadian Rhythms 1967–2025 follows in the footsteps of Two Piers acclaimed previous releases, Night Train: Transcontinental Landscapes 1968–2019 and Music for the Stars: Celestial Music 1960–1979, continuing the label’s exploration of expansive, time-spanning musical journeys.

“I wanted once again to shape a compilation around a time period, this collection is a nod to my days behind the counter of a record shop, the people I met and the styles of music that was played and I was introduced to. Some are from that time, some are of the style/feeling, that I can associate & with the friends I met there; from the early shift to the late shifts as the tempo rose throughout the day and the neons of London started to buzz”

The album will be available on Limited Vinyl and CD in May, arriving just in time for the longer, warmer days and the shifting light of the Seasons Sun.

“One of Berghain’s longest-serving residents, Luke Slater has been defining bleepy, polyrhythmic, industrial-strength techno as Planetary Assault Systems since the mid-nineties. P.A.S albums tend to come together in their own time:

“External signals and signs combine until the recipe feels right, both musically and from being ‘out there’,” Slater adds. “10 years since I released Arc Angel on Ostgut Ton, and it’s a fitting pleasure to combine live show ideas and studio work for the new album, served up with raw energy” That patience runs through his whole Ostgut catalogue; since Temporary Suspension brought its machine-tooled weight and alien feeling to the label in 2009, each P.A.S. release on Ostgut Ton has been its own quest for discovery, from The Messenger’s search for sounds not yet present in club music to Arc Angel’s focus on melody to the deep hypnosis of Plantae.

His new album, Planetary People has the deliberate imagination and depth of a record that took its time, shaped as much by live rooms and crowds as by the studio.

“Into The Night” creates a haunting, dystopic environment of corroded acid saturated in echo, absorbing from the first second. “Labyrinth” breaks into buoyant tribal percussion, modulated chirps trading off over propulsive drums. “Quadrant 10” is clean, delay-drenched techno, buzzing with noise splatters over saturated thuds. “Sermon Of The Light Tides” scrambles metallic bell sequences that distort and evolve throughout, reminiscent of a dial-up modem crossed with a game of Frogger, squelching between percussive bursts and stripped-back kicks. “Brave Cosmo” is tormentingly menacing, eerie synths panning around buried vocal fragments over frantic percussion. “Retina Burn” rolls on fierce, cement-mixer 909 cycles, rave stabs over a ride that locks you in, the whole track stuttering and repeating before stripping back to a bare echoing kick and building itself again. “Thunder Major” barrels on open hats and reverb-drenched claps ricocheting through twisting wreaths of delay, mesmeric and relentless. “Beton Brut” marches juggernaut percussion stamping through hall reverb so vast you can visualise the room, the darkest and most unrelenting track on the record. “No Ninja” crunches in metallic and immediate, a wiry plucked lead threading through glitch with the bass held low and deep, mixed so precisely you can see every layer stacked in your mind’s eye. “Ha Jam” is danceable techno with plenty of funk and a sophisticated looseness, a vocal laugh bouncing off clanging metal blocks and rave stabs. “Lynx” lowpasses its rave stabs and crystalline beeps, chirpy hats ticking, cold metal repeats, old school and mesmeric. “Generation Slip” closes everything out, ominous and churning, skittering percussion and electrical sparks rattling through steel, a freight train barrelling on into oblivion.

Oath sub-label Last Year At Marienbad is proud to present the latest spellbinding work from producer Holo, 'Astro', a record that emulates never-ending ethereal, emotively pure, and endlessly danceable frequencies…
Berlin-based Holo makes dance music that speaks in carefree whispers, through a brilliantly constructed sound that leans as much on the hypnotically emotive as on the core fundamentals of composition.
'Astro' is the next phase of his musical journey, and as a contained experience, it gives over all that Holo has become celebrated for, alongside explorations of invigorating spaces in which his sound has grown. The title track is an airy, free-flowing affair, with its semi-stepping drum pattern providing the frame for the light chimes of the keys to set the soul going. 'Spirits' ups the ante with its tempo change, its direction more towards a dancefloor in some faraway paradise.
'Sympatika' kicks off the B-side in a similar fashion, with its extensive groove fuelling bated breath for the arrival of the synths. 'Cycles' wraps up the EP, which again shifts focus to a more cavernous, absorbing kind of sound. A final blend of audio excellence that wraps up a one-of-a-kind record from a one-of-a-kind producer.

The Trip To Vega is about deep outer space odyssey that occurs in the process of traveling from Earth through the Cosmos to another "favorable" star system 25.3 light-years away.

The time is year 2097, Sept 23rd.

To this day, Earthlings have managed to dodge some of nature's more dangerous extremities, massive volcanic eruptions, Earthquakes, solar burst that knocked out the Planet's entire electrical grid for 3 years, numerous plagues of disease, food and fresh water shortages, domestic and International Wars and many other life-changing operas, but for this event, what remains is a realization that has no remedy. The cause: Earth's physicality has changed. It is no longer favorable for living things.

It is the constant shifting of the planet's internal tectonic plates which has unfortunately produced an unexpected and impassable dilemma.

Because of the collisions, deep within the planet's core, the planet is now producing an extraordinary amount of sound that includes a specific harmonic frequency that erodes the natural senses of all life on Earth.

It is intensifying. It is intolerable and it is unlivable.

Yet, some humans prefer to stay, to "ride it out" like the Titanic captain going down with his ship. Some, in total disbelief as some have concluded it is the second coming of Jesus Christ. But for most, the decision is clear. Tolive another day, leaving is the only rational choice.

At an increasing rate, scientific research data shows that humans and most animals, excluding the Jellyfish will eventually lose the usage of hearing and are to greatly suffer from an array of other neurological and psychological effects. The sense of touch and taste, sleep depreciation, severe nerve damage, constant hallucinations. Everyone will lose many of their cognitive abilities within an estimated 12 months from now.

On this day and every 7 days afterwards until all registered passengers have departed, the first of a fleet of large number of massive size spacecraft carrying approximately 1 million humans per vessel will permanently leave Earth to begin the long and adventurous trek across outer space to a new home: Vega.

This is not a precautionary tale as there is nothing to learn. Instead, a decision has been made and a Trip To Vega is the consequence.

- Jeff Mills

Following her debut album, I’ll Look for You in Others (Past Inside the Present), earlier this year, Patricia Wolf joins Spain’s Balmat label with See-Through, her second album. See Through finds the Portland, Oregon musician and field recordist continuing to develop her signature style of ambient, balancing radiant soundscaping with a carefully expressive sensibility. But the new album is also marked by an important difference. Where I’ll Look for You in Others was largely written in response to the death of a loved one, See-Through represents a kind of rebirth.

“After a long period of grief, I had been hoping to find my way to a place of lightness, peace, playfulness, curiosity, and sensuality again,” Wolf says. “What I was surprised and pleased to find is that for the most part, I had.”

She wrote and recorded many of the album’s songs quickly, in preparation for an August 2021 broadcast on the online radio platform 9128 Live. Excited for the opportunity to play live after more than a year of the pandemic, Wolf decided to write all new material for the event, working with a lean setup of Octatrack, Roland Synth Plus 10, Make Noise 0-Coast, and Novation Summit. (In fact, Wolf was the first sound designer invited to create patches for the Summit.) She also picked up an acoustic guitar that her brother had loaned her. “I decided to take the surrealist approach of ‘pure psychic automatism’ to see what poured out of me,” she recalls. “Woodland Encounter,” “Under a Glass Bell,” “The Grotto,” “The Mechanical Age,” “The Flaneur,” and “Psychic Sweeping” are all products of those sessions; the through line holding them together is their exploratory spirit and clarity
of vision.

Other songs, like “A Conversation With My Innocence,” “Recalibration,” and “Psychic Sweeping,” wrestle with the traumas of the preceding year. Though they may linger on the heaviness of loss, Wolf says, “What I discovered is that a stronger archetype had grown inside me to steer my emotions and thoughts to a better place.” Likewise, “Wistfulness” and “Upward Swimming Fish”—her first experiments with VST synthesizers—balance the bittersweet embrace of melancholy with the freedom to choose happiness.

“Pacific Coast Highway,” the album’s lone song with drums, might at first seem like an outlier. But it also signals Wolf’s interest in finding a fusion between the introspection of ambient and the togetherness of beat-oriented music. “Experiencing loss and isolation is what drove me into gentler territories of sound,” she says, “but I want to start making more beat-oriented music. After an extended period of loss and isolation, I’m ready to experience more joyous and social things.”

Listeners with keen ears might recognize the album’s closing song, “Springtime in Croatia”: A different mix of the song originally appeared on the 2021 digital compilation secondnature & friends Vol. II, from the Seattle label secondnature. This marks its first appearance on vinyl, however, and its spiritual home is undoubtedly here, at the close of See-Through. As the bookending answer to the opening “Woodland Encounter”—another song in which field recordings play a crucial role—it closes the circle of an album that is itself keyed to the steadily turning cycles of life.

Vibe Ride is the sixth release of Adam Rudolph's Hu Vibrational project and marks his 60th release as a leader or co-leader. Comes with insert and download code.

“With every record, the goal is to explore new creative territory,” explains Rudolph. Vibe Ride continues a deeper exploration of a trance-like groove and a conceptual framework known as Sonic Mandala. This album marks the most complete realization of that idea, partly due to the group's experience touring beforehand. That time on the road helped to refine ideas and strengthen musical chemistry. The recording process unfolded organically—likely due to the long-standing collaboration within ensembles like Go: Organic Orchestra and Moving Pictures, where the musicians have developed a deep familiarity with the shared musical language.

Sonic Mandala refers to a musical approach distinct from traditional linear structures of theme and development. Found in cultures across the globe, it may represent one of the oldest forms of musical expression—predating written history by tens of thousands of years. Today, it is most vividly preserved in the music of the Ituri Forest peoples (Aka, Baka, Ba Benzele, Mbuti), whose sound traditions revolve in cyclical, orbit-like patterns. Vibe Ride seeks to bring that ancient sense of circularity into a contemporary—and perhaps even futuristic—context.

The ensemble of Vibe Ride—Alexis Marcelo, Jerome Harris, Harris Eisenstadt, Neel Murgai, Tim Kieper, and Tripp Dudley—brings exceptional creativity and skill to the project. While grounded in the sonic languages of today, their performance channels an ancient vibrational lineage, connecting with ancestral sound makers who were attuned to the rhythms of the sun, moon, stars, and seasons. Human beings have always been deeply responsive to natural cycles.

Like a mandala, where the circle reveals itself as a spiral—always returning, but never to the exact same point—the Sonic Mandala musical experience spirals through motion. Refined signal patterns emerge through overtone-rich instrumentation. The groove becomes a threshold, shifting the listener from passive observation into active, even transcendent, participation. With open ears and an open mind, the sound spirals inward—toward a primal center—and outward into the cosmos. When this elevated state is shared among participants, it creates what mystics describe as resonance.

Vibe Ride thrives on the distinctive sonic voices of its players, interwoven with care and nuance into the compositions. Hu Vibrational merges elements of world music, electronica, and improvised jazz into something both funky and spiritual, intense and soothing.

Using signature techniques of organic orchestration, layered arrangement, and electronic processing, the compositions are sculpted from percussion, electronics, and ethereal textures. Rhythmic foundations drawn from diverse traditions serve not as endpoints, but as building blocks. As the saying goes, “Orchestration is the key.” In shaping the sound, the aim was to discover fresh ways of balancing structure and sonic color. As Don Cherry once said: “The swing is in the sound.”

The audiophile LP was carefully recorded, mixed, and mastered by James Dellatacoma—longtime engineer for both Bill Laswell and Rudolph—at Laswell’s Orange Studio.

“This crew artfully blends together to create a seamless tapestry of rhythm… the end results are mesmerizing. Hu Vibrational is all about communing with the groove spirits and creating worlds where earthy rhythms and other-worldly sounds are one.”
— Dan Bilawsky, All Music Guide

“You can be sure that when Adam Rudolph and an ensemble of breathtaking drummers get together mystical and wonderful things will happen.”
— Raul da Gama,

“A stunning effort, enjoyable and grows with repeated listening.”
— Stefan Wood, Freejazzcollective

Evelyn spreads her wings and prepares to fly. This is her first offering for the ESP Institute. On side A, 'Tremors' slams together a plethora of seemingly disparate rhythms, organic percussion, field samples, hypnotic chants and a relentless low end punch, that when in full-swing, works some seriously deep sorcery. Contrasting her pounding kick and rolling sub combo are a softer grouping of melodies, soft mallets and muted tones that lay subtly beneath the aggression, skillfully playing with a sense of spatial depth and room size. Its the kind of track that draws you in with meditative bars, concentric cycles that sit ever so slightly off-axis, inducing the mind and body to obsess and regulating its timing, and then drops you into a very intentionally arranged soundstage giving expansive space to explore. On the flip, 'Pregunta' continues this approach of natural versus industrial instrumentation. The consistent machine kick has a powerful but playful tone, the negative space between each stroke evoking a mighty gesture as its note bends in the decay. Set in 3/4, a community of live percussion successively adds and subtracts, each player’s imperfect attack accumulating into a mechanically smeared and addictive loop that toys with peaks a handful of times yet restrains any unnecessary climax for the betterment of a driving groove. Near the end, as the kick and various players mute and the base of the track is given a moment to breathe, its apparent just how layered the production was in the moments prior, as we’re suddenly at home, smitten with the wobbly and lopsided innocence of the foundational percussion. These two songs will push you headfirst into the light.

Certain paths necessitate and call for one singular long sequence in order to arrive at a fully formed conversation or reasoning. Nothing seems to broadcast it more clearly than the trajectory Brussels based Italo-Vietnamese artist Nguyễn Zen Mỹ embarked on during the last decade as Radio Hito.

After a string of highly cherished and sought out tape releases, Radio Hito’s new album ‘L’uso e gli attributi del cuore’, co-released by Maple Death & Meakusma, unfolds with devastating
clarity, a profound balance of depth, minimalism and emotional grounding. A ten-sequence song cycle for voice and MIDI soundfonts adapted from the 2021 book by French poet Claude
Royet-Journoud.

Written and recorded between January 2023 and August 2025, the cycle evolved through nearly 80 live performances from Galicia to Kazakhstan before arriving at its recorded form. Set to an Italian libretto adapted from Royet-Journoud’s text ‘L'usage et les attributs du cœur’ (POL, 2021), the work revisits the tradition of the 19th-century Lied — art song built on existing poetry— transposed into a radically economical contemporary setting: voice and Casio CTK workstations.

"I was interested by this incompleteness CRJ mentions - by the ‘suspension’ of meaning questioning readability and intelligibility. I ‘resisted’ to CRJ’s texts since I met him and got to know his work. … It seems to me that when playing the songs, I submit an object to be completed by the audience."

Radio Hito’s distinctive approach to setting poetry to music — spare arrangements, strophic repetition, and a voice suspended between recital, fm transmission and canzone — creates a language of its own, reaching new heights on ‘L’uso e gli attributi del cuore’, songs that are formally rigorous, emotionally restrained, and shaped by the discipline of sustained live performance, interlocking into a coherent cycle.

Rather than illustrating the poem, Radio Hito approaches it as a space of suspension. Royet-Journoud described poetry as a “profession of ignorance” where meaning remains incomplete; these songs extend that trembling state, allowing repetition, digital timbre, and restraint to hold the text open.

Often misread as minimal synth or romantic chanson, Radio Hito’s practice is rooted instead in the lineage of the art song and song cycle: open structures, close attention to language, and a live performance economy that pushes the voice at the heart of the stage. The choice of accessible keyboard workstations — light, portable, and embedded in contemporary popular culture — replaces the historical piano.

Radio Hito creates fantastical, mirage-like songs, intimate yet elusive. Her music is forlorn chanson for the digital age; bringing her haunting and beautiful vocalisations into conversation with MIDI soundfonts and humble-yet-deep casio compositions. Music that strides for simplicity, yet lands miraculously within an entire new universe, a uniqueness achieved from like-minded spirits such as Ghedalia Tazartès, Savina Yannatou & Lena Platonos, Dorothy Carter, cycles that trickle down into estuaries.

“Radio Hito's set is superb. Sitting on the altar steps with a synth, her fabulously expressive vocals colour sparse, pensive compositions.” The Wire

Pleasure, shame, and survival often arrive tangled together, indistinguishable in the moment. Camgirl, from Crippling Alcoholism, takes that entanglement as its starting point. Rather than separating desire from damage, the record allows them to coexist, tracing a path through obsession, performance, and persistence without offering clean resolution.
Camgirl is the 2025 breakthrough album from Boston’s Crippling Alcoholism, a record that frames pop immediacy against obsession, endurance, and collapse. Built from ear-wormy hooks and abrasive noise rock textures, the album smuggles grotesque and confrontational subject matter into songs that remain deliberately melodic. Pleasure and revulsion blend throughout, with choruses that linger even as the lyrics refuse comfort.

Released on September 12, 2025, Camgirl follows a loose narrative centered on a sex worker moving through cycles of exploitation and survival, treating intimacy as spectacle and visibility as threat. Songs flicker between desire and despair, confession and performance, flooded with artificial light. Despite its subject matter, the record resists nihilism. Its closing moments arrive quietly triumphant, not through escape or redemption, but through persistence itself.
Originally released on vinyl by Portrayal of Guilt Records, the first pressing of Camgirl sold out quickly. The Flenser reissue makes the album widely available for the first time, reaffirming it as a defining statement from a band operating at the intersection of pop form, noise, and lived experience.
Press Quotes

Camgirl proves that Crippling Alcoholism can evolve without losing their edge, and this record is a dark, irresistible bop. - Lambgoat
Elements of goth rock and melancholic vocals call back to loud rock while blending with an overall instrumental field brimming with energy. - Outside noise
Blurring the lines between outsider noise rock and dark glamorous synth-laden pop under a deceptively alluring glow… compulsively, squirmingly catchy. - The Progressive

Pleasure, shame, and survival often arrive tangled together, indistinguishable in the moment. Camgirl, from Crippling Alcoholism, takes that entanglement as its starting point. Rather than separating desire from damage, the record allows them to coexist, tracing a path through obsession, performance, and persistence without offering clean resolution.
Camgirl is the 2025 breakthrough album from Boston’s Crippling Alcoholism, a record that frames pop immediacy against obsession, endurance, and collapse. Built from ear-wormy hooks and abrasive noise rock textures, the album smuggles grotesque and confrontational subject matter into songs that remain deliberately melodic. Pleasure and revulsion blend throughout, with choruses that linger even as the lyrics refuse comfort.

Released on September 12, 2025, Camgirl follows a loose narrative centered on a sex worker moving through cycles of exploitation and survival, treating intimacy as spectacle and visibility as threat. Songs flicker between desire and despair, confession and performance, flooded with artificial light. Despite its subject matter, the record resists nihilism. Its closing moments arrive quietly triumphant, not through escape or redemption, but through persistence itself.
Originally released on vinyl by Portrayal of Guilt Records, the first pressing of Camgirl sold out quickly. The Flenser reissue makes the album widely available for the first time, reaffirming it as a defining statement from a band operating at the intersection of pop form, noise, and lived experience.
Press Quotes

Camgirl proves that Crippling Alcoholism can evolve without losing their edge, and this record is a dark, irresistible bop. - Lambgoat
Elements of goth rock and melancholic vocals call back to loud rock while blending with an overall instrumental field brimming with energy. - Outside noise
Blurring the lines between outsider noise rock and dark glamorous synth-laden pop under a deceptively alluring glow… compulsively, squirmingly catchy. - The Progressive

Pleasure, shame, and survival often arrive tangled together, indistinguishable in the moment. Camgirl, from Crippling Alcoholism, takes that entanglement as its starting point. Rather than separating desire from damage, the record allows them to coexist, tracing a path through obsession, performance, and persistence without offering clean resolution.
Camgirl is the 2025 breakthrough album from Boston’s Crippling Alcoholism, a record that frames pop immediacy against obsession, endurance, and collapse. Built from ear-wormy hooks and abrasive noise rock textures, the album smuggles grotesque and confrontational subject matter into songs that remain deliberately melodic. Pleasure and revulsion blend throughout, with choruses that linger even as the lyrics refuse comfort.

Released on September 12, 2025, Camgirl follows a loose narrative centered on a sex worker moving through cycles of exploitation and survival, treating intimacy as spectacle and visibility as threat. Songs flicker between desire and despair, confession and performance, flooded with artificial light. Despite its subject matter, the record resists nihilism. Its closing moments arrive quietly triumphant, not through escape or redemption, but through persistence itself.
Originally released on vinyl by Portrayal of Guilt Records, the first pressing of Camgirl sold out quickly. The Flenser reissue makes the album widely available for the first time, reaffirming it as a defining statement from a band operating at the intersection of pop form, noise, and lived experience.
Press Quotes

Camgirl proves that Crippling Alcoholism can evolve without losing their edge, and this record is a dark, irresistible bop. - Lambgoat
Elements of goth rock and melancholic vocals call back to loud rock while blending with an overall instrumental field brimming with energy. - Outside noise
Blurring the lines between outsider noise rock and dark glamorous synth-laden pop under a deceptively alluring glow… compulsively, squirmingly catchy. - The Progressive

Aspen Edities is pleased to present Aerial, the third album of the experimental quartet Oker.

Whereas their album debut Husene våre er museer (2018) and its follow-up Susurrus (2021) focused on collective and individual compositions, Aerial features two longform pieces of fully improvised music, sculpted from the recognizable acoustic sound palette that the quartet has developed across a decade of extensive touring. The titles, Aerial, Equinoctial Tide and Crepuscular Rays refer to meteorological and planetary phenomena, and in Oker’s interplay we hear light, wind, clouds, and tidal cycles transpire as shimmering, roaring, rubbing, coalescing and diverging environments of sound. The sonic stoicism and minimalism in their expression is challenged by frictioning micro-chaoses, combining to create calm, winding paths of musical detail and form. Echoing our planet and its meteorological reality, Aerial yields both consistency and perpetual change.

Bringing together some of the most compelling musicians from the Norwegian improvised music scene, Oker operates as an acoustic experimental quartet devoted to the amalgamation of improvised and composed modes of expression. Their music combines fine-tuned tonalities, deconstructed grooves, acoustic noise and other sonic events, taking their rather conventional instrumentation as a point of departure. Textures in gradual change coexisting with responsive and spontaneous gestures create a varied but coherent musical ecosystem which can be airy or dense, dry or blooming. A certain minimalist or stoic approach to sound production is an overarching and recurring element in all of Oker’s music, differentiating their sound from the majority of music in the field of improvised music or free jazz.

French artist Trypheme debuts on Impatience with “Odd Balade”, a darkly-hued collection of songs drawn from human delicacy and dreamworld mythology.

“Odd Balade” is Trypheme’s most ambitious and boldest record to date - both lyrically and musically. The album’s thirteen tracks resist rigid genre boundaries and flutter from medieval folk realms, sprawling synths, gothic 80s wave, leftfield pop, haunted vocals, mutant electronica to reverbed guitars - all reflected through her own shadowy prism. Especially album closer “A Walk In The Vercors” evokes a soothing serenity that echoes the sonic balm of Julee Cruise.

Trypheme’s musical repertoire trends heavily electronic and somewhat abstracted, but on “Odd Balade”, the artist slips into the role of the modern troubadour with a shift to a more poetically and personal songwriting that is infused with symbolism and dreamlike fantasies. The connective tissue of the album is the audacity to love and the vulnerability that ensues. As intimate and introspective as the lyrics are, the themes remain universal and human to the core: the fear of losing a loved one, the melancholia of leaving places and t“the fear of losing a loved one, the melancholia of leaving places and the cycles of life. The record was largely composed in Chars, stirred by the French village’s eerie atmosphere and frequent trips to the seaside in Brittany, where Trypheme resides. Drawing inspiration from the rugged terrain of the seaside landscapes, the writings of Allen Ginsberg and Mark Fisher and the hyperrealist art of Scott Prior, Trypheme uses her songs to depict life with broad strokes of rhythm.

On “Odd Balade” Trypheme consolidates herself as a gifted, nimble songwriter, masterly producer and subtly powerful vocalist. The record combines her skill for crafting lush, alien sound worlds and efficient, alluring arrangements with stealthily devastating songs. Belin’s voice becomes a key ingredient, appearing on eleven of Odd Balade’s thirteen tracks, by turns heavily manipulated, sampled and replayed as a form of percussion, or basically bare.

“Odd Balade” is the manifestation of Trypheme’s roving artistic practice, a ceremonial-grade sacrament cast in a rich nocturnal glow. Pairing the mundane with the mythic, the album stays true to its core: odd and strangely familiar.

RIYL - Riding off into the sunset to an unknown destination, hauntology, present, tales told by the fireside, hot summer rain, adventures, to feel a warm presence when you are walking in the forest or in the mountain, coastal landscapes, sailor’s stories, slow motion, vitesse, heavy blossoms, colors, the warmth of the sun, the tenderness of the moon, getting lost in unfamiliar streets, city’s lights, motorway rest area by night, magic numbers, rendez-vous, picnic, serendipity, poetry, the smell of old records and old books.

Tiphaine Belin has been releasing music as Trypheme since 2016. Odd Balade was written and produced by Belin, and mixed by Belin and Abel Roux. It was mastered by Amir Shoat. Cover art photography is by Ariane Kiks, with art direction by Ariane Kiks in collaboration with Mathilde Chaize.

Explicit isolation is the third album by the international collective E/I, led by composer and percussionist Szymon Pimpon Gąsiorek. The group’s seven core members came together while studying at Copenhagen’s Rhythmic Music Conservatory and the Royal Danish Academy of Music. For this latest release, they are joined by Slovenian musicians Samo Kutin (hurdy-gurdy) and Kaja Draksler (organ), alongside Danish tuba player Rasmus Svale.

The three compositions distill sound down to its essential elements, drifting freely through space. The material is minimal, moving in the geological rhythm of endless cycles of tension and release, formation and dissolution, density and lightness. Pimpon acts here more as a guide than a creator with a master plan. He is a navigator, leading us to the most crucial moments where sonic emissions merge into vibrating drones, building to an inevitable leap—an explosion after which the particles rearrange themselves once again. It feels like futuristic temple music infused with intergalactic spiritual jazz, the extensions of drone music, and acoustic ambient textures, all highlighted by the jolly grin of the navigator.

“I wrote the scores and asked each of the musicians to record their parts individually. What’s interesting for me about doing it this way is that it removes the element of immediate interaction and introduces a factor of randomness. I then edited and mixed it myself, also adding my own parts. Previously, it was strictly acoustic music, and the recordings were ‘live,’ meaning they were captured in one room at the same time, with no subsequent edits.” Pimpon has also incorporated electronics, which make the album even more airy and organically complement the sounds of the hurdy-gurdy and organ, recorded in Trboje, the small Slovenian village.

Water can retain or wash away memory; flowing or freezing. It gives life and shapes earth, while frozen imprints of an ancient past are waiting to melt – back into sound or fluid motion, or simply to dissipate and disappear. For their split release, Yoichi Kamimura and Olli Aarni offer two distinct reinterpretations of a performance recorded live at the Temppeliaukio Kirkko – a church in Helsinki built directly into solid rock and bathed in natural light – meditating on glacial landscapes and water cycles, using shared field recordings that bifurcate into two sonic visions of “ice journey”.

Yoichi Kamimura’s extensive recordings formed the bedrock of the original performance, notably from time spent on Suomenlinna Island just outside Helsinki in 2021, aiming to capture the remnants of the glacial movements that formed the area’s geology. Elsewhere, the voices of ringed seals, underground waterways of Kyoto, and icy rivers in Lapland from Kamimura’s library float in as well. “The small, charming, and gentle islands floating in the Baltic Sea—some with little cottages and restaurants—reminded me of the drifting ice in the Sea of Okhotsk between Japan and Russia,” describes Kamimura. Fragments of a Christmas choir creep in too, recorded at the church on Suomenlinna Island. Titled Kōri no ryokō , Kaimimura’s reinterpretation of the performance emphasises a shared future across all icy sea regions of the world: thawing ancient memories and the threat of disappearing entirely.

On Jäämatkailu, Olli Aarni presents his own expansive reworking of the same source material, heavily processed alongside his own field recordings from Vantaanjoki river and Suontee lake in Finland. “I was thinking about the processes of erosion, water carving rock, the prehistoric glaciers over the landscape in my own environment,” explains Aarni. The soundscape hums with both intimate details and macrocosmic flow, and a submersible bass rumble hinting at an iceberg far below the tip, morphing at time scales beyond human comprehension.

Side A is composed by Yoichi Kamimura using field recordings of drift ice (Shiretoko, Hokkaido, 2019–2022), the Lake Biwa Canal (Kyoto, 2020), the Therme Vals baths (Vals, 2017), spring water (a fountain next to Saint Benedict Chapel, 2017), a Christmas choir (Suomenlinna Church, Helsinki, 2021), ice in the Juutuanjoki River (Inari, 2021), and recordings from Yoichi’s and Olli’s concert (Temppeliaukion kirkko, Helsinki, 2021), KORG iPolysix, and KORG minilogue xd.

Side B is composed by Olli Aarni using the aforementioned sounds + field recordings of the river Vantaanjoki and the lake Suontee, sampled sounds, and a computer.

Força Maior combines the vital saxophone explorations of Pedro Alves Sousa with the infinitely subtle electronic processing of Pedro Tavares. Sousa (aka Má Estrela) is known for manipulating his woodwind through guitar pedalboards & amplifiers, creating far-from-ordinary sonics rooted in unceasing curiosity. For his part, Tavares (aka funcionário) conjoins video & sound work to create space for the pensive wanderings where memory and imagination interlace.

The album Morte Lilás was recorded over a week in June 2023 in Pedro Alves Sousa's family farm, located in the village of Ferreirim, near Lamego, in Portugal. The partly abandoned farm served as the residency, studio, and inspiration for the album: it is a 400-year-old granite farm that belonged to a member of the "40 conspirators"—a group that led the revolution for Portugal's independence from Spain in the 17th century.

Morte Lilás is a remarkable album of committed meditation. Each day on the farm was a recording day for the two Pedros: Sousa on sax & electronics, Tavares on sampler & processing. Apart from slight sonic incursions from the surrounds—the birds on 'Quinta à tarde'—and the sporadic use of sine tones, the source sounds all start from the saxophone. It is then processed both by Sousa & Tavares. The album unfolds as a saxophonic tapestry that breathes with quiet intensity. Each piece invites close listening, revealing fine gestures and tonal shifts that shape a contemplative, ambient space. Força Maior move with calm precision.

The album opens with the unhurried overture 'Quinta à Tarde' a Portuguese pun on Eno's Thursday Afternoon that announces the textures at play. Sousa's breathy entrance is paired with a soft, delicately shifting, backdrop. As the track progresses, time seems to stretch. The arrangement resists urgency, favouring subtle evolution over dramatic turns. Pensive layers shift & drift, creating a sense of suspended motion that brings the listener into the environs of Morte Lilás. 'Quinta à Tarde' is a long-form fade, shifting emphasis from Sousa to Tavares.

'Cubos' continues the gauzy feel, but with a more up-tempo tilt. Rhythmic clicks & pings setup a swung time for the sax to interpose melodic lines that are fed back & bent with cascading delays. Força Maior in distilled form.

Força Maior is in top form on the title track 'Morte Lilás', a sprawling centrepiece that showcases their command of atmosphere & emotional pacing. By turning up the reverberation & leaning into a continuous format, they dissolve the gap between hypnotic trance & articulate reverie. Then, a moment of stillness. The track pauses, not abruptly but like a tide pulling back, revealing the contours beneath. What follows is a return to the album's more relaxed architecture: understated rhythms, softened textures, and a sense of spaciousness that opens space for reflection. It is a transition that feels organic, as if the song itself needed to exhale before settling back into its contemplative groove.

'Menta' is another short-form miniature of the band's signature contours: beautiful loops of air pressure gradients that carry an emotive weight & light.

The album closes with 'Cascata do Inferno'. The title suggests violence, but the music whispers instead—an atmospheric cascade of breath & tone that emerges in slow, deliberate waves. Short melodic cycles are matched by shimmering electronic chords. It's a piece that rewards patience, draws the listener in to drift downstream, eyes closed, into the serene turbulence of its current.

Sacramento (CA) Heavyweight Crushers Return! Oromet presents atmospheric funeral doom with a melodic emphasis without surrendering the all-encompassing heaviness that is the genre's hallmark. Where some seek to immiserate and drown the listener, Oromet explores the complete nature of sorrow as the band weaves the choke of despair and the lightness of serenity. The Sinking Isle focuses on the inevitability of collapse and the cycles of ruin and rebirth. Adrift on cataclysmic seas, melody remains the compass—a hopeful light guiding the listener through themes of loss, nostalgia, and pessimism. For fans of Mournful Congregation, Bell Witch & Esoteric. Dan Aguilar: Guitar, Vocals Patrick Hills: Drums, Bass, Synth, Backing Vocals Recorded, Mixed, and Mastered by Patrick Hills at Earthtone Studios Cover Artwork: Ted Nasmith Design, Layout, Illustration: Dan Aguilar Additional Backing Vocals: Chris Lemos

Hello Spiral returns to the same North London block, the same triangulated geometry of balconies and courtyard, but with a shift of orientation. His previous record looked outward from the eighth floor, these four new recordings move inside, into the building’s arteries. Joe explores the hallways of the complex where he has lived and listened for years, using the same tool as before, an iPhone and its voice memo app. The recordings were made in situ, each exactly eleven minutes, captured without ceremony.

The hallways feel different. Less private, less scenic, more neutral. They are the connective tissue between hundreds of domestic units, a space of transit rather than rest. The carpet absorbs certain frequencies. The fire doors catch and release pockets of air. The lights hum. Elevators drone in soft cycles of arrival and departure. These are the institutional sounds of shared living, yet once recorded they begin to behave strangely. A kind of internal weather appears.

As with the previous album, Joe remains attentive to what is often overlooked, irrelevant or discarded. The hallways, with their scuffs and signage, their coded access and polite functionalism, provide an unexpectedly rich field. The ambience is not shaped by storms or scaffolding, not by birds or street spill. Instead the material is the building’s own breath, its mechanical rhythms, the low frequency traces of neighbours, the occasional shuffle of footsteps that pass but do not return.

Joe talks about this record as a possible middle chapter in a trilogy. If so, it sits between the exposed openness of the balcony and whatever comes next. A hinge point. These recordings continue Joe’s long practice of defamiliarization, sharpening attention to the unnoticed while withholding narrative. They invite repeated listening, not for revelation, but for the subtle shifts that occur when a familiar space is treated as an instrument.

Slip is Paul Abbott’s response to his 3 day residency at OTO in 2023. It’s a continued exploration of the acoustic-digital hybrid drum setup Abbott has been developing for some time, which involves drum kit and synthetic sounds combined closely—through an entanglement of limbs and cables—in an intimate but strange relationship with each other.

Paul Abbott hasn’t had any formal musical training, but has a long history of making music, having collaborated for years with Seymour Wright, Pat Thomas, Michael Speers, Cara Tolmie, Anne Gillis and many others. Eventually, led by a profound suspicion of what is fixed or limited, Abbott began finding other ways to organise sound - or what he calls ‘material’:

“I wanted a way to 'persuade' or guide the possibility of something happening - my activity or the events of an algorithmic composition - for example, but without certainty or formalism. It felt to me, during playing, that certain ideas had a particular sort of shape, but more than the form of a line. I began to write alongside (before/after) playing the drums, and ‘characters’ began to enter the scene as a more wobbly, and therefore appropriate option to notation. Working with these characters allowed me to simultaneously approach body, imagination, language and music: without dividing things up or separating these aspects from each other. It allowed me to leave things messy and entangled, whilst trying to deal with form and specificity: wanting to have some things feel or respond differently to other things at other times.”

In approaching his residency, Abbott developed a fixed cast of characters - crystal, lleaf, reiy.F, reiy.C, strike, nee, qosel, sphu and aahn. They each communicate using different kinds of movement and drum kit/s, and Abbott choreographed them as ‘dances’ based on different feelings, or outlines of behaviours suggestive of ways of moving (body, drums, sounds). He then arranged these characters into ‘compositions’: one for each performance day, with each composition featuring multi-layered activity - options for behaviours, ways to move around the rooms, play drums, develop synthetic sounds, change the lights or re-distribute the sound in the space.

After the performances, Abbott took home 9 hours of recordings split into up to 28 multitrack channels for each day, and re-organised his cast once more into a performance for 2LP, CD and digital. It’s an enormous amount of work - but Abbott is activated by the process. For him, the pleasure of unstable edges, possibilities, slippages, is the vital attraction. Like all living organisms, Abbott’s characters have malleability and responsivity. They stimulate a bundle of possible behaviours, a tendency to act a certain way, a temperament, a boundary of respective limits or affordances.

It’s an affective way of working, inclusive of Roscoe Mitchell, Sun Ra, Nathaniel Mackey and Milford Graves. In ‘Pulseology’(2022), Milford Graves reminds us, ‘Breath varies, so cardiac rhythm never has that (metronomic) tempo. It’s always changing. All the alignments of the heart are determined based on the needs of the cells, specifically tissues and organs. The heart knows if it needs to speed up.’ In Slip, to slip, in a heartbeat, is to descend not into the grid of the even metre accorded to the heartbeat, but into a play of mutability and modality. To change is the condition of the heart.

Amuleto Apotropaico has a way to fend off demons by channeling a secular spiritualism rooted in a rigorous but playful connexion to the infinite possibilities of noise. The propulsion of their continuous music ebbs into and flows out of this primordial flux through their unique brand of brutalist liturgy.

Amuleto Apotropaico is a Portuguese duo consisting of António Feiteira (drums & electronics) and Francisco Pedro Oliveira (guitar, flute & electronics) formed in 2021. Having grown up together, saturated in the lore of their hometown of Santa Maria da Feira, the duo now resides in Porto and continues to moor their rhythmic rituals in the traditions of Northern Iberia.

None of this is a nostalgic look back to a time-that-never-was. Amuleto Apotropaico's cycles are ouroboric: every step forward invokes a simultaneous step backward such that their observance of sonic ceremony (seeming to invoke a now-forgotten tradition) becomes a constructivist gesture that shapes its own legacy. If time-travel exists, this duo has found out how.

For their self-titled first release (also the first release of the Perf label), António Feiteira has culled, recomposed and processed recordings from the band's last two years of concerts in order to create a exciting 4-tracker. Apotropia I & II, which open sides A and B on the vinyl release, are both textural meditations on subtle density. Feiteira's sensitive percussion flourishes are married to Oliveira's modular-enhanced flute and guitar patterns. Albedo e Rito showcases the duo's sense of melodic contour while crescendoing to a peak of lightness. Bruxa do Calhau Branco, lifts the whole journey into an astral dimension where multi-layered drums, synths and digital clicks breathe out, announcing that their moment of worship has settled back into the ubiquitous hubbub of room hum.

Depth.Request presents Lllneas' debut album, Buried Stories, a powerful 7-track odyssey through life's darkest shadows and most enlightening revelations.
This collection of works traces its origins back to 2018 when the concept of Lllneas was born. Long before the music was written, the idea and name carried the promise of an eventual catharsis, a release that would embody the untold stories and emotional complexities of its creator.
Each composition on Buried Stories weaves a vivid tapestry of experiences, shaped by contemporary events and echoes from the past. With remarkable intensity, Lllneas channels the raw emotions they evoke, transforming music into a catalyst for healing, reflection, and understanding. More than an album, Buried Stories is an unapologetic and honest expression of survival, self-acceptance, and transformation; a tribute to those who feel out of place, offering hope and validation to embrace their unique perspectives. This release marks a moment of liberation, a turning point that sheds light on an issue that deeply resonates with Lllneas: the devastating realities of domestic violence. The artist calls for courage, awareness, and immediate action, urging people to break free from cycles of abuse and fear.

Let Buried Stories inspire you to confront the untold and find freedom in your own truth.

Producer, designer, publisher, filmmaker, all-round scene phenom - Lasse Marhaug returns with his first album since relocating from Oslo to the Arctic Circle, surveying his 35-year career for a set of grizzled, doom-pocked rhythms and foghorn drones pulled from the aether. Expansive and hard to categorise, it's a precision-tooled set of ice-cold tonal productions that heavily lean into Mika Vainio’s rhythm experiments, with extra levels of growling bass and curious noises to send us deep into the uncanny.

Lasse Marhaug has put his mark on literally hundreds of albums - working with artists like Jenny Hval, Merzbow, Jim O'Rourke, Kevin Drumm, Hilary Woods - so many others - yet he still regards himself as a primarily visual artist who got diverted into an occasionally different path. If his last album 'Context' was a kiss goodbye to decades of life in Oslo, 'Provoke' turns a new page, but one that draws heavily from memories of the distant past, reflecting on the way the topographies of Norway's frozen north helped shape his creative worldview. Weaving electronics into environmental recordings captured in the bleak Arctic winter, the album was mixed during the Polar night season, when, for two straight months, the sun never rose past the horizon. Somehow, even at its bleakest, Marhaug avoids the usual aesthetic signifiers for this kinda thing, finding elements of queered beauty in all the severity, juxtaposing elements that shine a bright light on all the odd spaces in-between.

A consideration of noise music's place in 2024, and whether it can still be a tool for subversion when its aesthetics have been so commodified, ‘Provoke’ also refernces an experimental '70s Japanese art magazine that attempted to define a new language for photography. Operating somewhere between these two guiding poles, Lasse feels his way through a subtly altered mode of expression, a new approach to familiar concepts. Album opener ‘Plates’, for example, gives it the full Ø treatment, like some exceptional ‘Oleva’-outtake, but , eventually, shards of interference start to exhale like horses blowing, creating uncanny sensations that hit through ambiguous feeling rather than sheer noise terror. Ritualistic, corporeal - hard to know what you’re listening to and why it makes you feel that certain way - so much more than just machine cycles optimised for their ultimately hollow brutalist aesthetic.

Marhaug paints vivid pictures from a carefully chosen palette, drawing us into a soundworld that's rich with contradictions and contrasts. Even the relatively deafening 'New Topographics' offsets its wall of distortion with a muffled, perforating kick drum, cutting into the noise like a knife through butter. And all of this preparation makes the album's lengthy centrepiece 'Monochrome Head' even more impactful; hinging on a Pan Sonic-like alloy of bass and drums, the track snowballs through tempered feedback and improv scrapes and whistles that pick up into an orchestral din. Marhaug accents the bluster with rhythmic hums that gather in momentum until they're almost oppressively heavy, as if everything's about to collapse.

A masterclass in quietly subversive world-building, 'Provoke' invites us to peer at an expansive sonic landscape and marvel at its intricacies, but this time around there's a Lovecraftian behemoth lurking somewhere beneath its icy surface.

Gavin Vanaelst runs the space Aboli Bibelot in Antwerp where exhibitions and musical performances can happen side to side with dealings in centuries-old furniture and unique pieces of folk art or volkskunst. Gavin makes music under the aliases DJ Charme, Kassett and So Sorry. This is the first album under his birth name. Takeaway Loops cycles back to the days when Gavin was working as a courier for .

is a food delivery company. Their couriers - ehm, brand ambassadors, as the company prefers to call them - dressed in bright orange, they race their bikes around the city. They deliver meals and groceries for all sorts. Thanks to them, the privileged can stay tucked in their private spaces. Interaction between the two groups - the privileged and the brand ambassadors - is mostly kept to the bare minimum. And sparse communications are often driven by annoyances - “my Coke is warm because you kept it too close to the French Fries.” And on the streets the general public dis-approaches the brand ambassadors with pity. We tell our peers: “That’s not a good job,” and “stay away from the Sharing Economy.” Because, you know, in our capitalistic dollhouse we all stand our grounds and play our parts wholeheartedly.

During his shifts for , Gavin recorded location sounds on his phone at fast food restaurants while waiting on the orders he had to pick up and deliver. Later in his home studio Gavin added piano and electronics to this source material. The result: a gloomy soundtrack for a shadow world. Seven songs in evening blue with a bright orange glare.

A few years ago, our favorite Belgian publishing house Het Balanseer released Seizoenarbeid by Heike Geissler (available in English trough Semiotext(e)). Geissler writes about her job at Amazon in Leipzig. Because her writing and freelance work did not pay the bills any longer, she was forced towards this underprivileged shadow-world of unwanted jobs. Seizoenarbeid shed a light on freedom in an unfree world. A monument of ‘we are all in this, but not together’. Takeaway Loops gives us a similar peak in a world that is at the same time so visible, but then also very veiled for many. A world that we prefer to use, yet that most of us prefer not to see - a world that we don’t like to enter.

Last year at Harbourland subway station in Kobe i was mesmerized by its sound design, created by Hiroshi Yoshimura. For each part of the subway station he composed a short phrase. While walking trough the station, a full composition grows in your head. The looping melodies guide you trough a microworld. Trough a blue world of commuters, of the homeless, of the lonely, of the fast paced, of the tourist. Gavin creates a similar effect with Takeaway Loops. The tonality somehow corresponds to Yoshimura’s work. Yet instead of being guided trough a building, we are now taken to the after dark. You feel the concrete evening heat of the city. You hear the rain. Stiff fingers during cold winters’ nights. You are alone on the bike, cruising. Your maps app telling you where to go. You just left the fake leather bench of the well-lit pastiche interior of a fast food restaurant.

Next order, number ECN44! Please wait outside, sir?

Allt wurde 2020 gegründet und ist eine progressive Metalcore-Band aus Karlskoga, Schweden, die für ihr audiovisuelles Storytelling und ihre innovative Herangehensweise an Metalcore bekannt ist. Nach ihrer zweiten EP "The Seed Of Self-Destruction" aus dem Jahr 2022, die als genreübergreifende Metalcore-Veröffentlichung gefeiert wurde, sind Allt nun dabei, ihren charakteristischen Sound mit ihrem Debütalbum "From The New World" zu festigen. "From The New World" ist eine akribisch ausgearbeitete musikalische Reise der Selbstfindung nach der Zerstörung. Das Album ist inspiriert von den Spannungen und Ängsten in der Welt und erforscht Themen wie Zusammenbruch und Widerstandsfähigkeit in der Folge eines nuklearen Ereignisses und der emotionalen und philosophischen Landschaft, die darauffolgen würde. Um sich voll und ganz auf den kreativen Prozess und die Themen des Albums einzulassen, verbrachte die Band einige Zeit isoliert in einer Waldhütte. Jeder der 10 Tracks von FTNW erzählt eine einzigartige Geschichte von Verlust, Hoffnung und menschlichem Durchhaltevermögen, eingerahmt vom kosmischen Mysterium des Fermi-Paradoxons. Vom ersten Track, "A Flash of Light", bis zum letzten Track, "Cycles", geht es darum, sich durch das Chaos zu bewegen und in einer chaotischen Welt Sinn und menschliche Verbindung zu finden. "Über solche Themen zu schreiben, erlaubt es uns, unsere Gedanken und Gefühle zu verarbeiten, während wir unseren Zuhörern einen Raum bieten, ihre eigenen zu erkunden. Es geht darum, mit unserem Publikum auf einer zutiefst persönlichen und universell relevanten Ebene in Verbindung zu treten". Das Album vermischt mechanische und organische Klänge und beschwört sowohl die Trostlosigkeit als auch die stille Schönheit des Lebens inmitten der Nachwehen. Der Sound ist eine Mischung aus raumgreifenden Synthesizern, die alles von den unheimlichen Qualitäten von Radiowellen bis hin zu riesigen Maschinen mit immenser Rechenleistung nachahmen. Die dynamische Instrumentierung, der kraftvolle Gesang und die organischen Elemente verankern die Musik zusätzlich in einer greifbaren Realität. "Dieses Album ist eine Reise, und wir laden jeden ein, mitzukommen. Es geht darum, Empathie und Verbundenheit zu finden, selbst angesichts all dessen, was passiert ist. Es ist ein großer Schritt in unserer Entwicklung als Band, der zeigt, wo wir gewesen sind und wohin wir gehen. "From The New World" ist als CD Digipak, schwarzes Vinyl und digitale Version erhältlich.

CECILIA is a nomadic soul. Like in an existentialist epic that traverses different ages on a phantom thread of love, spirituality, desire and rage. She inhabits different bodies, inserts herself in a whole array of different characters. Some are fictional, some are as real as the artists that inspired her, and whose influence appears in CHOEUR under the guise of tiny fragments, direct quotes, dedications and spectral presences. Cecilia channels the poetry of different lives that might have been her own or might have only existed in dreams, and does so within a collection of songs that twist the path of traditional French and Italian songwriting into the inmost recesses of electronic mysticism. The composition of CHOEUR took place mostly around January 2023, a pretty precarious time in the artist life, and happened in a spontaneous and ritualistic manner that could appear as somewhat odd in the realm of electronic music production. Birthing out of ego-free solo jams in hyphened states of consciousness and audience-less performances, these moments of do-or-die energy intake served to funnel the wilderness of her emotions into extremely tight arrangements, ultimately allowing a dramaturgy of fierce and beautiful songs into existence. Striving for the sublime, CECILIA trained her whole body for a paradoxical procedure of disconnection and reconnection. A crucial pin in Melissa Gagné’s system of 7-year creative cycles, CHOEUR marks her debut on Haunter Record as much as the first step towards the possibility of a new artistic identity. A labour of love if there ever was one. CHOEUR is made of Awe, Chants and Ravishment, of Pain until Vision. CHOEUR prays Earth, Water, Stars, Sea. CHOEUR feels Spirits, Lightning, Thunder, Dawn, Dusk, Blood, Flowers. CHOEUR invokes a Return, to Grace. CHOEUR loves Mud and longs to Play. CHOEUR lives in a Dream created by a Dream. CHOEUR lives in a Body created by Love. CHOEUR is about a broken heart, open and ecstatic, about the beauty and the sadness that all is not what could be, about wandering and wondering why were the stars made so beautiful?

With extensive practical and academic understanding of the ‘remix’ process, Stian Balducci takes on the role of audio architect in this refined and redesigned remix album.

His meticulous approach has not replaced, but built upon Kjetil Jerve’s piano material and boasts a thorough dedication to mood and timbre through-out. The outcome combines new strokes of colour and delicately layered textures, offering fresh perspectives to an old canvas. The aural landscape takes shape in progressive, parabolic pulsations, coupled with sparse, rhythmic heart-throbs that embody the faint silhouettes of drum reverberations. This atmospheric landscape is complimented with subtle, pensive keys from Kjetil’s piano recordings that add emotional depth to the work and pay diligent tribute to the free structures of jazz.

The final project may be understood as a window, giving view to life’s sentient and evocative themes, without ever infringing on their delicacy. The sonic progressions tap into nature’s cycles through meditative repetition and offer the listener some brief respite from innate human habits of over-thinking.

As the contents of the album unfold, we are taken reassuringly by the hand to familiar, foreign lands, filled with curious sonorous tales and subtle insights that shed light on a world of deeper perception.

In keeping with the communal ethos of Dugnad Rec, ‘Tokyo Tapes: Piano Recycle’ reflects a thoughtful exchange between Stian and Kjetil. Stian professed that the project went ahead with just one rule: “to work only with the original source material, no external samples or sound sources”. This puritan approach spotlights a shared characteristic between them; namely, a unified desire to explore vibrations and a wholistic dedication to sound experimentation.

Jade Green Swirl vinyl. Camp Cope's new album How To Socialise & Make Friends will be released on March 2nd 2018. The follow up to their 2016 self-titled debut kicks off with the instantly remarkable bass line of "The Opener," an explosive diatribe against the sexist double standards of the music industry at large. What follows the lead single are a collection of songs that anchor on the cycles of life, loss and growth through resilience and those moments of finding and being yourself. Throughout the nine songs on How To Socialise & Make Friends it becomes clear that if their debut was the flame, this is Camp Cope rising from the ashes, stronger and more focused than ever.

"Remembering is not the opposite of forgetting," Casey MQ sings at the start of Later that day, the day before, or the day before that, his new LP and Ghostly International debut. It's a phrase fittingly misremembered from something the LA-based, Canadian-born composer came upon as he spiraled into unconscious and subconscious-led writing sessions at the piano. Casey's known for his 2020 breakthrough release babycasey, which gave voice to songs seen through the lens of childhood, various film score work and collaborations with artists such as Oklou (who returns here), Eartheater, and Vagabon. His gifts as a producer and songwriter are rooted in textural world-building and the excavation of personal truth. With Later that day... he questions what is true entirely, understanding our mind's tendency to bend and project onto pictures of the past. Across vivid, baroque pop balladry, Casey MQ reorients his recording project and point of view under the notion that memories are malleable. All the joy, pain, love, and loss housed within remembrance is open to interpretation and deconstruction, which he does deftly, with curiosity and complete artistic freedom. "It's a memory album," Casey puts it simply, winding up for the deeper unpacking, "and it might be a breakup album, too_there are more questions than answers." Engaging his dreams and sitting with sheet music at his newly acquired piano, he looked to new and old inspirations including the works of Claude Debussy, Joni Mitchell, and Joe Hisaishi's beloved Studio Ghibli film scores. "Since I was young, I always wanted to write a piano album." babycasey's studied electronic sound isn't wholly abandoned on Later that day... instead, it comes through like an atmosphere, giving Casey's more spacious, minimal arrangements a distinct luster and sheen. The textures and tones shift from song to song as if mirroring the way our minds constantly recontextualize, remember, and forget. Cathartic opener "Grey Gardens" _ its title derived from a dream abstractly related to the Toronto restaurant, but not the 1975 film, which he cites as another coincidental false memory _ presents the record's plaintive, haunted feeling. "Even if not reading into lyrics, sonically I wanted it to feel like you're being pulled into a universe. Not fantasy or otherworldly per se, something more tangible, of the body and mind," Casey says. "Hearing it back, I realized this track was the key to unlocking it." His tender falsetto hovers above ambient washes and echoed keys, each word falling carefully in the crevices. "Asleep At The Wheel" unfolds on arpeggiated synth before a burst of symphonic color; the synth returns inverted to harmonize with the outro, "I love a car crash, I love a story, I love a memory, I swear it's real..." Casey leans into digital imagination on the warm, introspective "Me I Think I Found It." Subdued, stuttered percussion underscores the singer as he cycles through pixelated imagery _ screenshots, smiles, streetlights _ searching for higher meaning through love. Built on ascendent chord distortions, "Dying Til I'm Born" gives the record one of its boldest pulses of emotion. The back half stretches out; "Is This Only Water" is sparse and foggy, "Baby Voice" is intimate and desperate for something to remain. "Words For Love" grooves on guitar, and "Tennisman9" aches in heartbreak. French musician Marylou Mayniel, aka Oklou, appears as the collection's only guest for the closing duet, "The Make Believe," a bright and buoyant send-off that gives Later that day... both a sense of resolve and cyclical-motion. "We are young, under the sun," they sing together, a parting image brimming with lightness.

"Remembering is not the opposite of forgetting," Casey MQ sings at the start of Later that day, the day before, or the day before that, his new LP and Ghostly International debut. It's a phrase fittingly misremembered from something the LA-based, Canadian-born composer came upon as he spiraled into unconscious and subconscious-led writing sessions at the piano. Casey's known for his 2020 breakthrough release babycasey, which gave voice to songs seen through the lens of childhood, various film score work and collaborations with artists such as Oklou (who returns here), Eartheater, and Vagabon. His gifts as a producer and songwriter are rooted in textural world-building and the excavation of personal truth. With Later that day... he questions what is true entirely, understanding our mind's tendency to bend and project onto pictures of the past. Across vivid, baroque pop balladry, Casey MQ reorients his recording project and point of view under the notion that memories are malleable. All the joy, pain, love, and loss housed within remembrance is open to interpretation and deconstruction, which he does deftly, with curiosity and complete artistic freedom. "It's a memory album," Casey puts it simply, winding up for the deeper unpacking, "and it might be a breakup album, too_there are more questions than answers." Engaging his dreams and sitting with sheet music at his newly acquired piano, he looked to new and old inspirations including the works of Claude Debussy, Joni Mitchell, and Joe Hisaishi's beloved Studio Ghibli film scores. "Since I was young, I always wanted to write a piano album." babycasey's studied electronic sound isn't wholly abandoned on Later that day... instead, it comes through like an atmosphere, giving Casey's more spacious, minimal arrangements a distinct luster and sheen. The textures and tones shift from song to song as if mirroring the way our minds constantly recontextualize, remember, and forget. Cathartic opener "Grey Gardens" _ its title derived from a dream abstractly related to the Toronto restaurant, but not the 1975 film, which he cites as another coincidental false memory _ presents the record's plaintive, haunted feeling. "Even if not reading into lyrics, sonically I wanted it to feel like you're being pulled into a universe. Not fantasy or otherworldly per se, something more tangible, of the body and mind," Casey says. "Hearing it back, I realized this track was the key to unlocking it." His tender falsetto hovers above ambient washes and echoed keys, each word falling carefully in the crevices. "Asleep At The Wheel" unfolds on arpeggiated synth before a burst of symphonic color; the synth returns inverted to harmonize with the outro, "I love a car crash, I love a story, I love a memory, I swear it's real..." Casey leans into digital imagination on the warm, introspective "Me I Think I Found It." Subdued, stuttered percussion underscores the singer as he cycles through pixelated imagery _ screenshots, smiles, streetlights _ searching for higher meaning through love. Built on ascendent chord distortions, "Dying Til I'm Born" gives the record one of its boldest pulses of emotion. The back half stretches out; "Is This Only Water" is sparse and foggy, "Baby Voice" is intimate and desperate for something to remain. "Words For Love" grooves on guitar, and "Tennisman9" aches in heartbreak. French musician Marylou Mayniel, aka Oklou, appears as the collection's only guest for the closing duet, "The Make Believe," a bright and buoyant send-off that gives Later that day... both a sense of resolve and cyclical-motion. "We are young, under the sun," they sing together, a parting image brimming with lightness.

Born in 1977, in Malang, East Java, Wukir Suryadi began playing music for theatre at the age of 12 with the Idiot The-ater Studio, and later with the Rendra Theater Workshop. In his solo work, and as a member of Senyawa, Error Scream, Bendera Hitam Setengah, Potro Joyo and other groups, Wukir breaks the boundaries of traditional music, death metal and avant-garde performance. On this new release, “Cycle and Prayer,” recorded in 2023, he expands the edges of his unique artistic world further, by digging in to meditative improvisation, art, and community building in his home workshop in the mountains of central Java. These recordings vibrate inwards, toward the microcosmic ecologies of forests and rivers; they distort outwards, resonating with global waves of apocalyptic change that are forcing all living beings to the edges of existence on earth. The result is a meditative poem that moves, as its titles an-nounce, from phenomena to phenomena, praying that humans find a way out from the depths of the depths to the light that illuminates the soul.
An essential mode of creative work for Wukir is the creation of unique instruments, using these sound sources as “bullets of expression.” In addition to the spear-like tube zither Bambu Wukir, he has created the Solet, Enthong, Garu, Luku, Arrows, and Industrial Mutant instruments, which in addition to being used in live performance, have been exhibited in the Instrument Builders Project and the 2017 Jakarta Biennale. In the past few years, Wukir has begun to collaborate with local guitar makers, carpenters, and suppliers of native endemic wood in the mountain region of Salatiga. Using earthen bricks along with local woods (suren, coconut, mindi, and waru lengis) as building materials, he constructed a new studio and workshop space in Tingkir, where this album was made. The trees, water and air of the local environment have exerted a powerful influence in Wukir’s documentations of instrumental sound. On this recording, he uses the simple Cetta guitar, an instrument designed in Bali and made for Indonesian children and local communities of folk and popular musicians, in order to explore the different sonic characteristics of a more “normal” instrument built from local wood.
The themes of the album -- cycle and prayer -- arise from a foreboding series of meta-events that shook Indonesia and the world over the past years, following one after the other: the COVID-19 pandemic, the Ukrainian-Russian war, the Kanjuruhan Stadium tragedy in which football supporters were gassed and killed by police, revelations of govern-ment failures and corruption, the rise of personal vehicles, the increasing disturbance of natural patterns of the rainy season and other ecological cycles. “In these waves of technology and narratives of truth made for certain interests, playing a sound at a certain frequency and repeating can try to bring images and feelings to a certain point of con-sciousness,” Wukir told me. “Sound is a prayer that creates a change, whether gradual or rapid, in the behaviour of living things, to face the demands of the time, as humans struggle to live according to what they believe.” The draw-ings and sketches used for the cover spontaneously emerged alongside the recordings, as an instinctive depiction of “time and sound, nature that is outside of oneself, and nature that is within.”

In the ever-evolving landscape of the underground music scene, few bands have made an impact quite like Selofan, an immensely talented duo of Joanna Pavlidou and Dimitris Pavlidis, has carved a niche for themselves within the international pantheon of darkwave, post-punk, and '80s synthpop, blending these influences to create a sound uniquely their own. Their journey, marked by a commitment to artistic integrity and evolution, has taken them from the cozy confines of local venues to the grand stages of international festivals, earning them a dedicated following and critical acclaim along the way. Their sixth album, Partners in Hell, released in October 2020, navigated the band through unprecedented times, testing their adaptability and resilience. Despite the hurdles to performing live and the global pandemic's challenges, Selofan emerged stronger, embarking on international tours with a newfound appreciation and connection with their global audience, during this period of introspection and isolation, Joanna Pavlidou embarked on a new venture, GIOVANNA, released under Selofan’s house label, Fabrika Records. GIOVANNA, which places Pavlidou at the helm of vocal and lyrical composition, represents a full on foray into synth-pop. showcasing a different facet of her artistic identity, with lyrics entirely in Greek. In 2023, Selofan hit the circuit hard, lighting up revered festivals with their presence. They stood shoulder to shoulder with heavy hitters like Molchat Doma and Lebanon Hanover at Grey Scale and performed with with the likes of The Sisters of Mercy, VNV Nation, and She Past Away at the Death Disco fest in their hometown of Athens. With each album they have released Selofan made significant strides in their evolution, deepening their engagement with their art. And their forthcoming seventh full length studio release, Animal Mentality, is poised to be their most compelling work yet. Animal Mentality unfolds as a labyrinthine journey through the elemental aspects of human emotion and experience, set against the backdrop of Selofan's signature darkwave sound. Each track on the album delves into different facets of the human condition, from the depths of desire to the pangs of isolation, encapsulating the duo's profound understanding of the intricate spectrum of human emotion and subjective experiences. The album kicks off with "Sticky Fingers," a track that melds cinematic scope with a haunting storyline, reminiscent of Jean-Michel Jarre's icy synths and a lyrical nod to Joy Division. This opening salvo revisits the tragic allure of classic car accident songs, weaving a tale of joy turned to sorrow amidst the snowy Alps. "Love's Secret Game" delves into the depths of forbidden desire, with vocals that echo the melancholy timbre of Xmal Deutschland, Lebanon Hanover, and Nico. It's a tale of passion and ephemeral connection, promising an enduring presence despite the inevitable fracture of time and distance. In "Lucille," sung by Dimitris Pavlidis, the plot is ensnared in the machinations of a tempestuous affair, with gothic undertones evoking the dramatic soundscapes of Ultravox and Clan of Xymox. The lyrics are steeped in danger and desire - a dance with the shadows. "Sacrifice Me" plunges into the abyss of despair, driven by a Bauhaus-esque bassline. It's a plea for release from the chains of alienation, a yearning for a final gesture of solace in the face of overwhelming darkness. "Bluebirds" offers a poignant reflection on solitude, with the fleeting imagery of bluebirds symbolizing the elusive quest for happiness. The song serves as a meditation on the internal struggle to maintain hope in a world shaded by sorrow. The narrative shifts with "Glassplitter," where German lyrics paint a portrait of deceptive allure and toxic entanglement. We are confronted with irresistible danger, masked by a veneer of beauty. "Ignoranz" continues the exploration in German, pondering the universality of misunderstanding. It's a reflection on the subjective nature of truth and the shared human experience of ignorance. "Behind My Eyelids" closes the odyssey, a contemplation on melancholy and metamorphosis. The phoenix rises from the ashes of betrayal to the brighter realm of renewal - a beautiful homage to the resilience of the human spirit amidst the often harrowing cycles of life. More than just an album, Animal Mentality is a milestone in Selofan's career, marking a decade of musical innovation and growth. It's a testament to their enduring spirit and a bold step into new realms of artistic expression. As Selofan continues to evolve, they remain at the forefront of their genre, pushing boundaries and exploring the depths of the human psyche through their haunting melodies and poignant lyrics.

In the ever-evolving landscape of the underground music scene, few bands have made an impact quite like Selofan, an immensely talented duo of Joanna Pavlidou and Dimitris Pavlidis, has carved a niche for themselves within the international pantheon of darkwave, post-punk, and '80s synthpop, blending these influences to create a sound uniquely their own. Their journey, marked by a commitment to artistic integrity and evolution, has taken them from the cozy confines of local venues to the grand stages of international festivals, earning them a dedicated following and critical acclaim along the way. Their sixth album, Partners in Hell, released in October 2020, navigated the band through unprecedented times, testing their adaptability and resilience. Despite the hurdles to performing live and the global pandemic's challenges, Selofan emerged stronger, embarking on international tours with a newfound appreciation and connection with their global audience, during this period of introspection and isolation, Joanna Pavlidou embarked on a new venture, GIOVANNA, released under Selofan’s house label, Fabrika Records. GIOVANNA, which places Pavlidou at the helm of vocal and lyrical composition, represents a full on foray into synth-pop. showcasing a different facet of her artistic identity, with lyrics entirely in Greek. In 2023, Selofan hit the circuit hard, lighting up revered festivals with their presence. They stood shoulder to shoulder with heavy hitters like Molchat Doma and Lebanon Hanover at Grey Scale and performed with with the likes of The Sisters of Mercy, VNV Nation, and She Past Away at the Death Disco fest in their hometown of Athens. With each album they have released Selofan made significant strides in their evolution, deepening their engagement with their art. And their forthcoming seventh full length studio release, Animal Mentality, is poised to be their most compelling work yet. Animal Mentality unfolds as a labyrinthine journey through the elemental aspects of human emotion and experience, set against the backdrop of Selofan's signature darkwave sound. Each track on the album delves into different facets of the human condition, from the depths of desire to the pangs of isolation, encapsulating the duo's profound understanding of the intricate spectrum of human emotion and subjective experiences. The album kicks off with "Sticky Fingers," a track that melds cinematic scope with a haunting storyline, reminiscent of Jean-Michel Jarre's icy synths and a lyrical nod to Joy Division. This opening salvo revisits the tragic allure of classic car accident songs, weaving a tale of joy turned to sorrow amidst the snowy Alps. "Love's Secret Game" delves into the depths of forbidden desire, with vocals that echo the melancholy timbre of Xmal Deutschland, Lebanon Hanover, and Nico. It's a tale of passion and ephemeral connection, promising an enduring presence despite the inevitable fracture of time and distance. In "Lucille," sung by Dimitris Pavlidis, the plot is ensnared in the machinations of a tempestuous affair, with gothic undertones evoking the dramatic soundscapes of Ultravox and Clan of Xymox. The lyrics are steeped in danger and desire - a dance with the shadows. "Sacrifice Me" plunges into the abyss of despair, driven by a Bauhaus-esque bassline. It's a plea for release from the chains of alienation, a yearning for a final gesture of solace in the face of overwhelming darkness. "Bluebirds" offers a poignant reflection on solitude, with the fleeting imagery of bluebirds symbolizing the elusive quest for happiness. The song serves as a meditation on the internal struggle to maintain hope in a world shaded by sorrow. The narrative shifts with "Glassplitter," where German lyrics paint a portrait of deceptive allure and toxic entanglement. We are confronted with irresistible danger, masked by a veneer of beauty. "Ignoranz" continues the exploration in German, pondering the universality of misunderstanding. It's a reflection on the subjective nature of truth and the shared human experience of ignorance. "Behind My Eyelids" closes the odyssey, a contemplation on melancholy and metamorphosis. The phoenix rises from the ashes of betrayal to the brighter realm of renewal - a beautiful homage to the resilience of the human spirit amidst the often harrowing cycles of life. More than just an album, Animal Mentality is a milestone in Selofan's career, marking a decade of musical innovation and growth. It's a testament to their enduring spirit and a bold step into new realms of artistic expression. As Selofan continues to evolve, they remain at the forefront of their genre, pushing boundaries and exploring the depths of the human psyche through their haunting melodies and poignant lyrics.

Monika Enterprise welcomes a new act to her roster with Berlin based experimental pop duo Post Neo releasing their new EP. Individually known as Nicole Luján and Pauline Weh, both musicians pursued their own solo projects before forming the duo Post Neo. On “Alles Immer Wieder” they combine as more than the sum of their parts to produce 5 songs of dark and powerful experimental avant- pop which is released as an exclusive 10” vinyl.

Pauline and Nicole met making music in Berlin during the summer of 2019 and kept collaborating online, until Nicole moved to Berlin in 2022. The musicians' different musical backgrounds result in diverse intuitions which complement each other perfectly when producing tracks together - Nicole was more into synthesis and electronic music production in Mexico City while Pauline received a classical piano education in Munich before she started doing electronic music.

In 2022 they released their first EP, «do you?», which consists of five tracks that were composed and produced as an inter-continental project between Berlin and Mexico City. In autumn of that year Post Neo received a residency at Sternhagen Gut from Musicboard Berlin where they caught the ear of monika head Gudrun Gut who was so taken with their compelling mix of techno beats and dreamy melancholic atmospheres she immediately signed them to her label.

The EP’s opening and title track “Alles Immer Wieder” (trans. Everything again and again) is a reflection on repetition and monotony as transcendence in the form of sleep, dreams, work and other daily cycles. The rhythmic juxtapositions and tempo shifts make for a captivating opening track. “Ganz Schön Was Los” (trans. A lot happening) has a proper synthwave electro pop vibe while the vocals lend a little light hearted humanity to the otherwise calculated computer music aesthetic. With its fusion of synthesizers and drum machines track B1 “Die Verwirrung” (trans. The confusion) brings a sense of melancholic doom. The flow of B2 “Wenn Wir Wüssten” (trans. If we knew what would happen) is a future-focused reflection on the unidirectional movement of time's arrow. Sampled harmonies and instrumental breakdowns make it possibly the most emotive track on the EP. And the record comes to a close with “Dreh dich” (trans. Turn around) which lures us in with delicate vocals before menacing synthesizer sounds blast us into oblivion. It is an invitation to turn the record over and start listening from the beginning again.

Post Neo’s music is steeped in minimalism: at once managing to be hugely expressive and evocative while still retaining a sense of privacy and mystery for the listener to decrypt. Like all great pop music their songs are musically captivating while also conveying a strong message. As their band name suggests, Post Neo are essentially futuristic and with live shows at some of Berlin’s hottest underground venues under their belt as well as in their hometowns of Munich and Mexico City, plus the release of „Alles Immer Wieder“ in 2024, great things are in store for the electronic pop duo.

The heavyweight trio of Keiji Haino, Jim O’Rourke and Oren Ambarchi return with their 12th and most epic release to date, the triple LP With pats on the head, just one too few is evil one too many is good that's all it is. Documenting the entirety of their final performance at the dearly departed Roppongi home of Tokyo underground institution SuperDeluxe in November 2018, the music spread across these six sides splits the difference between the guitar-bass-drums power trio moves and experiments with novel instrumentation that have defined the trio’s decade of working together. Containing some of the most delicate music the three have committed to wax since the gorgeous 12-string acoustic guitar and dulcimer tones of Only wanting to melt beautifully away is it a lack of contentment that stirs affection for those things said to be as of yet unseen (BT011), this wide-ranging release also offers up some of their most blistering free rock performances yet.

The side-long opening piece finds Haino on a single snare drum in duet with O’Rourke on unamplified electric guitar, playing in the lovely post-Bailey vein heard on his classic 90s recordings with Henry Kaiser and Mats Gustafsson. Spiky dissonance and ringing harmonics interweave with flowing melodic fragments as Haino single-mindedly explores the resonance of the snare like an untutored Han Bennink. On ‘Right brain, left brain; right, left; right wing, left wing. Just how many combinations can be made from these?’, O’Rourke moves to synth and electronics, joined by Ambarchi on drums, who at first focuses on sizzle cymbals before hypnotic cycles of gentle tom rhythms combine with electronic burbles and flutters to suggest a dream collaboration between Masahiko Togashi and Jean Schwarz. Ambarchi’s percussion is then joined by Haino on wandering, overblown flute, before the man in black switches back to the snare for a bizarre, stuttering drum duet.

For the first trio performance, Haino makes another new addition to his seemingly infinite catalogue of instruments, this time a homemade contraption he refers to as ‘Strings of Dubious Reputation’. Joined by O’Rourke on increasingly spaced-out electric guitar and Ambarchi on skittering percussion, Haino’s wonky, slack strings adds a definite ‘musique brut’ edge to this side-long performance, certainly one of the most enchantingly odd in the trio’s discography. When the group reconvene for the second set, spread out across the final three sides, they seem ready to breathe fire from the first instant. O’Rourke slashes distorted chords on the six-string bass, Ambarchi breaks into his signature irregular caveman thump, and Haino squeals and squawks on heavily delayed oboe before unleashing an overpowering electrical storm when he first picks up the guitar. For over half an hour, the trio pound out one of their most relentless performances, a constantly rearranging kaleidoscope of tortured fuzz guitar, insanely busy bass riffing and propulsive, tumbling drums. A hushed atmosphere initially reigns on the final long piece, given the mournful title ‘There are always things I wish to say but I can only convey them in this language August 6 August 9’. Haino’s clean guitar strumming calls up the shimmering tones of his PSF classic Affection, gradually building to a surging wall of sound, bass and drums lumbering through a roar of jet-engine guitar. Arriving in a deluxe trifold package with photos by Lasse Marhaug alongside inner sleeves with extensive live images, this epic release is perhaps the most remarkable document yet of this unique trio’s stamina and continuing inventiveness.

Memory Play returns to Control Freak Recordings, this time offering up the latest release for their White Label series with Weather Structures EP.

Following recent performances across Japan and at London techno haven FOLD, Memory Play has marked themselves out as one of the most exciting & energetic live techno acts to emerge onto the scene in recent years.

Dark, mechanical and intensely psychedelic, Weather Structures EP sees Control Freak exploring new sonic territory. A boundary-pushing exploration in driving 4x4 techno, Memory Play’s strong focus on hyper-detailed textures will be instantly familiar to fans of their debut Choice EP, released on Control Freak earlier this year.

Freak Frequency was a fitting title for the new material Greg Obis was planning for Stuck, the frenetic and twisted post-punk outfit he formed in 2018. Inspired by the doomy social economics of Mark Fisher’s Capitalist Realism, the bleak worldbuilding of horror games Demon’s Souls and Bloodborne, and the bombastic yet arty satire of Devo, Obis channelled his audio analogy into Freak Frequency, an album ringing out with explosive sounds and ideas.

Stuck formed after Obis’ previous projects, Yeesh and Clearance, called it quits in short proximity. Obis is on guitar and vocals, which span from booming theatrics to ecstatic yelps. The project’s rhythm section is completed by shoegaze guitarist-turned-chugging bassist David Algrim and tightly wound drummer Tim Green—also a graphic designer, and the artist responsible for Stuck’s distinctively unified visual aesthetic. Original co-guitarist Donny Walsh contributed freely inventive lines for the first few years of the project, including on Freak Frequency; Ezra Saulnier of Red Tunic, the newest member of the band, now brings calculated contrapuntal riffs to match Obis’ parts.

The building blocks of Stuck include the egg punk eccentricities of Uranium Club and The Coneheads filtered through noise rock power, à la Jesus Lizard or Slint; that melange is glittered with the precision microtones of Unwound and Women. “I want the feeling of immersion and chaos and tension, with a big guitar amp playing a big chord,” says Obis of his inspirations, citing friends and peers Cloud Nothings and Preoccupations. “But I want it delivered by having a lot of smaller points of light poking through.”

In fact, writing for Freak Frequency began while Content’s recording was still underway—beginning with “Scared,” which features acoustic layers under feedback squalls. “Time Out,” with motoric guitars in the sputtering lineage of Wire, was also composed in late 2019. Obis wrote it about the cycles of compulsion and shame woven into social media use, and the way negativity drives algorithmic engagement. It became an exciting exercise for the group in ramping up speed; “I thought I knew how far I could push Tim’s tempos,” Obis recalls. “But Tim kept insisting we do it 20 bpm faster than what I had. He is an absolute monster for playing that.”

Album opener “The Punisher,” a spiral staircase of disembodied guitars and rhythmic slams over a 2/4 beat, came in the aftermath of the January 6 insurrection. It felt immediately emblematic to Freak Frequency, and Obis describes it as his favorite Stuck track: one he wishes he could write again and again. “It hits all the boxes that Stuck can do: it’s goofy, but there’s a lot of intricate guitar interplay, and at the end, there’s a big payoff,” he explains. The last song written was “Do Not Reply,” a pre-album single that came to Obis after engineering for Melkbelly and channelling their earworm melodies. Algrim wouldn’t let it on the record unless Melkbelly’s front person Miranda Winters dueted on vocals; she was happy to oblige, and the gritty epic closes Freak Frequency.

With slippery snark, percussive heft, and funhouse mirrors of sludge, Freak Frequency delivers its needed screeds with gratifying nuance. If Stuck’s interpretation of this messed-up world goes down like a bitter pill, it’s only because its sugar coating is too delicious to keep from eating.

Jimmy LaValle’s The Album Leaf has spun from solo outlet to full band and back in its nearly 25 years. His acclaimed catalog spans releases for labels such as Sub Pop, City Slang, Relapse, and others. He also composes music for film and television, scoring over 20 projects (narrative features, documentaries, and TV series) since 2009. The cinematic sensibilities of The Album Leaf were present from the beginning. His 1999 debut introduced the start of a signature sound: melodic and meditative electro-organic soundscapes constructed with guitar, percussion, Rhodes, and field recordings.

His seventh full-length LP, and first since 2016, arrives in 2023 via Vancouver’s Nettwerk Records. FUTURE FALLING finds LaValle working with an array of musicians, shaping slightly darker, more spacious, and synth-driven songs with contributions from Bat For Lashes, Kimbra, and many others.
The music registers a shade darker and more synth-driven than most moments in his acclaimed catalog, a bridge between shadowy, cerebral terrain and dreamy precision pop, where softly percussive frameworks meet shimmering sound design and emotive instrumentation.
LaValle sees the construction of FUTURE FALLING as less conventional than past work. Contributions were done remotely with a “throw everything at it” mindset, making LaValle the arranger of layers from all over: drums, synths, horns, violins, voice, and more. LaValle created a pastiche of these layers and elements; in some cases even moving vocal takes to new tracks entirely. Without the in-the-room dynamics, he had more time to experiment, adding and subtracting ad infinitum.
The album opens on “PROLOGUE,” an evocative, slow-building instrumental that rides a pattern into a symphonic sea of static. Keys and horns glide atop the rhythmic pulse of “DUST COLLECTS,” setting the contemplative scene for “AFTERGLOW,” the record’s most pop-minded performance. Here Kimbra, the Grammy-winning New Zealand singer-songwriter, renders a striking recollection of past love as percussive elements shimmer and swirl.
A plaintive piano line moves throughout “Cycles 19.9” encircled by light ambient washes, both a valley between two peaks and a powerful composition in its own right. “Future Falling” follows; with origins tracing back to 2015, the track embodies the full sonic journey LaValle has taken. All the hallmarks of The Album Leaf — melodic builds, vivid sprawl, tonal shape-shifting — assemble to a blissful finish.

For the next stretch, “Cycles” begins with a uneasy Rhodes loop that builds and erupts into a wall of texture paving its way into “Give In,” where LaValle models a movement that begins subtle and measured before curving up with skyward, percussive bursts (“Stride”) and settling back down to the album’s back-half centerpiece, “Near” featuring the acclaimed English artist Natasha Khan aka Bat For Lashes. “Do you feel me near?” she sings into a mist of widescreen synths and soothing, distant drum beats as if searching through the dark.

RAMBADU - EN VIRON

Rambadu's latest release "EN VIRON" aims to make you see life in a new light. He experimented with a unique tuning that holds a closer connection with our environments. Each day we go through cycles and especially when we remove ourselves from urban areas; some of these natural patterns become very distinct.

"En Viron", in the late afternoon life is the most vibrant and lush. The sun is high in the sky and all plants emit a fluorescent green glow.

"Ruutan", as the sun sets the creatures of the night slowly take over, filling the calm darkness with high pitched rattling noises that keep dancing in our inner ears.

"Zaouia", when the morning comes the first birds will sing and almost sound like an alarm that announces a new sequence and day.

The sounds and colors of nature will always be present to guide us.

All sleeves are hand-made with love!

Franco-Swiss composer & director of INA GRM François J. Bonnet, aka Kassel Jaeger, returns with a new solo album. Following a compositional approach stemming from the musique concrète tradition, without adopting a structuralist aesthetic, Shifted in Dreams explores a wide range of instruments and techniques, going seamlessly from instrumental improvisation to field recording, via micro-editing and the use of asynchronous loops. Mixing the electronic sounds of an ARP 2500 synthesizer with the acoustic drones of a positive organ, articulating guitar layers with the resonance of the Cristal Baschet, bringing together recordings of slamming windows and sound produced by complex modular synthesis patches, Bonnet offers a rich and generous palette of sounds, inviting a constantly renewed sonic investigation.

When the pandemic hit, Hannah van Loon adopted a dog named Gizmo, who became a much-needed companion while the Bay Area musician wrote her second album as Tanukichan. Aptly Named after her new four-legged friend, GIZMO is an exercise in release, whether from situational hindrances—a forced lockdown, for one—or from self-imposed hedonistic coping mechanisms.“ A theme I always had floating around was escape,” van Loon explains of her follow-up to 2018’s Sundays. “Escaping from myself, my problems, sadness and cycles.”

To channel the more uplifting spirit she wanted for GIZMO, van Loon turned to the radio pop-rock of her childhood: “I was struck by the in-your-face positivity of the lyrics,” she adds,referencing artists like 311, The Cranberries, and Tom Petty. “I wanted to bring that positivity while writing about the sad and helpless emotions I’d been grappling with.” But GIZMO’s lightheartedness doesn’t make it shallow: “I think that I could let it go, as beautiful as snow,” she murmurs on “Don’t Give Up,” a nu metal-meets-Cocteau Twins groove about the sudden awareness that all the relationships you depend on could vanish instantaneously. Van Loon’s main collaborator on GIZMO was Toro y Moi’s Chaz Bear, and the jangly pop earworm “Take Care” showcases the heavily distorted, in-your-face guitar work reminiscent of Bear’s own psych joints What For? And Mahal. On the hypnotic, wall-of-sound-rocker “Thin Air” featuring Enumclaw, van Loon channels the triumphant grit of The Smashing Pumpkins as she ponders the impermanence of even the most impactful relationships: “I’ll always have the memories/Of how you used to make me see/Until they fell in the ocean/They’re not swimming/They’re not floating.”

Existentialism aside, GIZMO also sees van Loon break out of her sonic comfort zone. “One ofthe main changes of how I’m approaching music now is that I want to have more fun in the process,” she says, and she walks the line between melodrama and whimsy gracefully: “I can learn something because I’ve been here before,” she sings on the soaring, bittersweet “Been Here Before.” Deftones-inspired thrash drums and screeching electric guitars are gracefully contrasted with van Loon’s hypnotic, almost deadpan vocal style and a crystal clear acoustic guitar she describes as “cute.” Gizmo the dog suddenly passed away right as van Loon finished the album, but he’s immortalised with his photo on the cover—a fitting emblem of this new era of Tanukichan.

Die deutsche Heavy Metal-Macht BRAINSTORM ist seit
mehr als drei Jahrzehnten in der Szene, und es ist
tatsächlich immer noch schwer, das Genre zu definieren,
das sie spielen. Power-Metal? Heavy Metal? Prog Metal?
All diese Kategorien wären richtig, obwohl BRAINSTORM
noch mehr bieten und man mittlerweile von ihnen sagen
kann, dass sie eine einzigartige Metalmischung
geschaffen haben.

Angis Music invites you to listen to "Selva" the second release from the Padova duo composed of Stefano Cosi and Alberto Lincetto. The three songs featured represent the deep desire to communicate an evolution of sound and to tell a story that goes beyond traditional paradigms and genre labels. The “chiaroscuro”, lights and shadows, that characterize HUMA's music are once again the result of compositional and sound explorations that travel from jazz to 70’s funk, from deep house to electronic, with echoes of Brazil and film soundtracks. Side A opens with the misty and romantic landscape of "Free and Lost”, in which acoustic, electronic and deep bass sounds blend in a dark and spiritual atmosphere. The journey develops further into "An Ordinary Life” which sees the participation of Yeofi Andoh, aka A Race Of Angels, Los Angeles-based vocalist and co-author of the track, and of Amilcar Soto Rodriguez on classical guitar. It slowly emerges from the initial psychedelic sphere, landing on luminous harmonies and funk rhythms to reiterate a contrast that speaks of life cycles and the relationship between man and nature. This path ends with the title track "Selva" in which the synthetic percussive tangle keeps the listener in a meditative state of disorientation guided by the melodic lines of a dusty Fender Rhodes. It is the temporary epilogue of a story that has just begun..

Felix Laband’s The Soft White Hand is the masterwork of an artist who expresses himself through musical and artistic collage acting together to reinterpret his sources and to express significant elements of his own personal story.

Released by Munich-based Compost Records, the 14-track album is Laband’s first full-length offering since the critically acclaimed Deaf Safari in 2015. It is heralded by the single “Derek and Me”, and is being pressed on vinyl for distribution globally.

In The Soft White Hand Laband works with source materials that will be familiar to those who know his previous four records – Thin Shoes in June (2001), 4/4 Down the Stairs (2002), Dark Days Exit (2005) and especially Deaf Safari which reached deep into the South Africa scene and its political culture to inspire its vocal and music sampling. However, the disengagement he felt from his homeland during his latest album’s creation – an abiding sense of untethered-ness to place and space, exquisitely rendered in tracks like “Death of a Migrant” – is perceptible in Laband’s desire to illuminate instead aspects of his own life.

“For this album, my source material became almost autobiographical as opposed to African statements I’ve worked with previously,” says the artist. “I have sampled a lot from documentaries from the 80s crack epidemic in impoverished African American communities and believe my work speaks unapologetically for the lost and marginalised, for those who are the forgotten casualties of the war on drugs. In the past, I have had my issues with substance abuse, and I know first-hand about the nightmares and fears, what it feels like to be isolated and abandoned.”

Few artists have managed to air these intimate aspects of their life so luminously as Laband does in tracks like “5 Seconds Ago”, “They Call Me Shorty” and in the strange and meditative “Dreams of Loneliness”. “I’ve been building this weird, autobiographical story using other people talking. It’s kind of humorous but it is also sad and beautiful,” says Laband.

Yet, as in all of Laband’s recorded output, the delineations between emotions are never starkly drawn and The Soft White Hand is also shot through with beauty. Nature appears in recordings made in his garden in the intimate early morning hours, whether as in the calls of the Hadada Ibis and other birdsong in “Prelude” or of the vertical-tail-cocking bird in “Derek and Me”. The last is a wonderful track with Derek Gripper, the South African experimental classical guitarist of international renown, whose 2020 song “Fanta and Felix” imagines a meeting between Fanta Sacko and Laband.

Laband’s eloquence in reinterpreting classical composers such as Beethoven in “We Know Major Tom’s a Junkie” is another thrilling aspect of the new record. “I’ve been properly exploring classical music on this album,” explains Laband, “taking melodies from classical compositions and reinterpreting them”. A fresh quality comes to his work through this sonic adventuring: the tender manipulation of the mundaneness of the computer’s AI voice to reimagine and reinvent iconic lyrics and melodies in strange and unexpected configurations.

The Soft White Hand is Laband’s most cohesive body of work to date. Yet it remains, in its sheer artistic scope, impossible to describe fully. Darkness abuts the gossamer light. A song that summons the sunrise and all the hope of a new day could also be about the final dipping down of the sun that portends a troubled night ahead. Interludes are invitations to expand outwards or shift inwards. Mistakes and “weird fuckups” in the sound are cherished as convincing statements against what Laband calls the “grossness” of perfect sound in modern music.

For this world-leading electronic artist, the boundaries are unfixed. He is inspired by the German Dada artist, Hannah Höch, who memorably declared: “I wish to blur the firm boundaries which we self-certain people tend to delineate around all we can achieve.” His music consequently reflects a primal artistic impulse that is also visible in Laband’s considerable visual art output as seen recently in several solo exhibitions such as that held in the No End Gallery in Johannesburg in 2019 and in the works he produced during his 2018 Nirox Foundation Artists Residency. “My music is always about collage, as is my art,’’ he affirms. “Everything I do is collage. It is a medium I find very interesting because you are taking history and distorting it and changing its meaning and turning it upside down and back to front.” In her book Recollections of My Non-Existence, Rebecca Solnit calls collage “literally a border art”; it is “an art of what happens when two things confront each other or spill onto each other”.

With The Soft White Hand, Laband is confirming his singular ability to achieve this in both art and music, melting the divisions between the two creative disciplines until they become one. He is also affirming his belief that an album of music should be more than a collection of unrelated tracks, but should unfold a fully integrated, cohesive story as in the song cycles of the great classical composers. In doing so, he claims his position as one of the most significant artists working today.

Artist Statement – Felix Laband – August 2022

When the Khmer Rouge took their captives for processing, they identified their class enemies by looking at their hands. If they were sunburned, rough and calloused, they were those of a peasant, a proletarian to be spared. But if they were soft and white, then they were those of a city-dweller, an intellectual or bourgeois, an adversary to be liquidated.

In calling this album The Soft White Hand, I was reflecting on the Cambodian genocide and how it resonates in contemporary South Africa. The apartheid era is over, and gone with it is white political domination. Yet economic and social privilege is still held in soft white hands. But those who grasp it know just how tenuous is their hold, how it singles them out, and my music reflects their subconscious fears, the stress and guilt of clinging on to what others envy and desire.

The soft white hand of the title suggests to me a further image, one that relates to all of postcolonial Africa. In my mind’s eye, I see the soft, duplicitous handshake of the smooth representatives of the superpowers making deals and promising gifts that benefit only them, and not their African dupes.
Yet, soaring above the wailing of sirens sampled from the first day of the invasion of Ukraine, my music is also about love gained and passion lost. It is about the tender caress of a soft white hand that conducts you into a place of dreams to be enfolded by nocturnal melodies.

RAW SPACE" is rooted in chaos and chance, sensuality and intensity - it's an album that's able to sound alarmingly freeform and tightly controlled simultaneously. Already established as a genre-disrupting DJ, and even dubbed "demon of the Nile" by Ugandan politicians after an exuberant performance at Nyege Nyege festival in September 2019, Kampala-based sonic hypnotist Authentically Plastic brings a digger's literacy, an activist's intent, and an artist's playfulness to their jagged debut album. As both a DJ and a producer, Authentically Plastic is drawn to the idea of chance as a creative tool - to push against the idea of the all-knowing genius, and approach artistry instead as a facilitator, unraveling parallel mismatched rhythmic events. Their musical process is to start with chaos, then attempt to mold those fleshy structures into polyrhythmic mutations, pulling influence from East Africa's innovative musical landscape and augmenting it with an exploratory sense of surrealism. On opening track 'Aesthetic Terrorism', rough-hewn industrial rhythms chug mechanically against course, dissonant synth blasts and acidic arpeggios. There's a faint sparkle of Detroit's chrome-plated Afro-futurism, but bathed in neon light, reflecting Africa's contemporary electronic revolution. Authentically Plastic's productions have a sense of thematic coherence, but their myriad influences are torched into cinders, leaving inverse impressions and ghost rhythms: the tuned overdriven clatter of 'Anti-Fun' echoes Ugandan kadodi modes, yet simultaneously mirrors the rugged out-zone grit of Container or Speaker Music; standout centerpiece 'Buul Okyelo' meanwhile is as rhythmically cross-eyed as Slikback or Nazar, but juxtaposes kinetic dancefloor thumps with chaotic microtonal ritual cycles. Writing "RAW SPACE", Authentically Plastic found themselves fascinated by sonic flatness. They realized that in Western art, there's an obsession with depth of field that carries into music, robbing it of intensity. The album is an example of the power that can be reclaimed when you let go of depth, letting sounds rub together carnally and spawn something fresh and unexpected.

Bezbog is a duo formed in 2013 by David Machado and Dora Vieira. Since their first release in 2014, the self-titled Bezbog EP, they have been exploring both acoustic and electronic instruments to create music that lives somewhere in between genres, styles, doctrines and musical cultures. Alongside many underground venues throughout Portugal and Spain, they have shown their work in festivals such as No Noise, Milhões de Festa, Out.Fest, and TESLA at the Castile and León Museum of Contemporary Art, and other places such as the Serralves Museum in Porto and MK Gallery in the UK.

Their latest long play takes its name from the solar deity of the slavic pantheon, Dazhbog - the god that gives, and its idea flows into the concept of this record, through the themes of life, light and darkness, birth and rebirth, and the idea of the omnipresent cycle. We can find cycles in nature, music and life itself can be thought of as a cycle, from the micro to the macro scale.

As they seek to embed their music with these ideas, in a way, their music becomes new sacred music, the music of modern pagan rituals. While Bezbog’s music seeks to replicate the meaning of what that music was, an escape from the profane and a connection to the sacred plane, in form it reconstructs it in light of the duo’s influences, from the obvious portuguese and pagan folklore, chamber and sacred music, to the darkness of doom and heavy metal, the structured improvisations of north-american jazz and psycho-acoustic hallucinations and the hash transients of electronic music.

Dazhbog, while a passenger of the same train of thought as their previous studio work, comes in a different direction from it. Chernobog consists of two short and heavy tracks, painstakingly crafted during several months, while their latest studio effort is a long suite of 8 tracks, composed and recorded live throughout 2020, that form a light and bright record where the duo embedded most of their influences. The album will come out on vinyl in late March, in time for the pagan celebration of Spring and Fertility.

“Babygirl” is the new album by CTM out on Posh Isolation. In its composition channels a sensuous consciousness. The music is like a prism reflecting tactile perceptions, light, movements and memories. Relations between the composed structures and the undetermined of the improvisations, the cracks in the form and the digital glitches, create a poetic and open elsewhere. With a sensibility of pop, the musical landscape moves from nostalgic popballads through the austere pomp of a deconstructed baroque menuet for solo cello, to lingering piano ornamentations and distorted guitars. There is a soft and wild intimacy to the music. Common collective musical languages are weaved effortlessly into the musical canvas, while the form and perspective change and move. With a profound emotional resonance in the music, tenderness and devotion are reflected in the narrative. The sense of nostalgia comes like glimpses of pastimes revisited, when life cycles reveal themselves repeating in the now. Babygirl continues in the track of her latest album “Red dragon”, exploring feverish dreams and personal material through a digital ephemera. Digital effects splinter the intimacy and transform into something more than human, shaking the balance between the codes of the popsong and the unexpected digressions, guided by the voice of CTM that is central throughout the album. The album is produced by Holger Hartvig, Malthe Fischer and Cæcilie Trier. It features vocal and instrumental contributions by Ydegirl, Coco O., Johan S. Wieth (Iceage), ML Buch, Jakob Littauer (Yangze), Emil Elg, Claus Haxholm among others. The album, containing bits and pieces of recordings and compositions made over several years, is like a musical platform with expressions of many voices, and with relations and time weaved into the compositions. Trier is a Copenhagen based cellist, singer, and composer, with her classical training apparent across her many and varied projects and collaborations. Having received critical acclaim from the earliest moments of her career, Trier's previous album 'Suite For A Young Girl' was nominated for the prestigious Nordic Music Prize in 2017.

After the Bend is the second album from Louisville based Flanger Magazine, and the follow up to FM’s 2018 debut, Breslin. Whereas Breslin was the solo creation of Christopher Bush, an album noted for “an astute synthesis of ‘library music’ and solo acoustic guitar,” and “a seamless blend into the uncluttered and airier side of classic 1970’s giallo,” After the Bend is an ensemble affair. An ecosystem, a perfect mutualism bodies forth—of strings, outdoor recordings, electronics, reeds, and percussion—featuring new FM players Anna Krippenstapel (Frekons (Freakwater + Mekons), The Other Years), Jim Marlowe (Equipment Pointed Ankh, Tropical Trash, Sapat), Eric Lanham and Benjamin Zoeller (both from Caboladies). The various combos perform with both a distinguished efficacy and unhurried Sunday drift—charged and beautiful, pulsating and pleasing. The production is subtle and tasteful. Mutating past the old saws of bounded individualism, a strange form of tentacular life accrues, cyborgian-fungral-tangles of the more-than-human variety.

Robert Beatty’s cover art of otherworldly and interconnected river-scape gradients, coupled with song titles like “Reservoir,” “Falls Fountain Removed,” and “Sympathies for the River,” cue and clue the listener toward a river as a singular multitude analogue for the album. Interstitial gaps, clearings and openings give rise and merge into an accumulated flow from the tributaries of spirited improvisational performance, palimpsestic song cycles, and high fidelity studio production. The composite sound-image of After the Bend refuses to put both oars down into any one of the eddies of the folk, sound, chamber, electronic, or jazz idioms, and instead glides along the currents found within the slipstreams between.

Gathering samples, a River Doctor Limnologist inspecting the properties of After the Bend might note the specter of Leroy Jenkin’s free-violin heat-light deepin the water’s thermal stratification. Or mortgage the late-Maestro’s time with Gruppo di Improvvisazione Nuova Consonanza to pay down the growing river heat budget. Or take one’s dirty buckets to the banks of the 19th laundromat where Walt Dickerson plays his vibraphone parts from Divine Gemini with dowsing rods. Or excavate the bedrock in the drainage basin, noting skeletal remains of a Shostakovich string quartet attempting to tune up a Kentucky Fiddle’s subsequent influence on the chemical composition of the water. Or consult the historical revisionist reenactment troupe’s episode of Fishing with John (Fahey) in which Codona, The Sea Ensemble and Nuno Canavarro guest host as their fleet of paddle boats churn river water into a regal lager, and all the fish get drunk in their quest for the leaner enamel Hosianna Mantra GPS coordinates of the Fattened Herb.

Bush and Marlowe recorded and produced the album at End of an Ear Studios, located in the Portland neighborhood, in the west end of the city of Louisville, bordering the Ohio River, between Kentucky’s Upper South and the Indiana’s Midwest, during the first year of the global pandemic, amidst the planet’s sixth great extinction event. As good a time to be alive as any other. (by Kris Abplanalp)

The Line Is A Curve is about letting go. The core of the record is that the pressures we face do not always have to be heavy burdens, but can be reframed; the more pressure a person is under, the greater the possibility for release.

The album plays like a chronicle of pressures - the mind-numbing pursuit of a comfortable life, the eternal striving for more, the pressures of the city, the country, the times. The pressures of maintaining relationships, of battling illness, addiction, poor mental health, the vacuous life of our online selves. As we move through these chronicles though, the mood brightens. The musicality becomes more expansive as the lyrical horizon broadens and we glimpse coastlines, high streets, scrap yards, train stations in the rain; the entire album begins to let go. We encounter the contributions of artists who I love and admire, guest vocalists and instrumentalists, and so we defeat the sense of isolation felt in the opening track with a sense of deeply connected community. More Pressure, the penultimate song, is the essence of the whole album and the epiphany that leads to Grace, which is a prayer, a surrendering; ‘Please move me, please move through me, please unscrew me, please loosen me up.’ But once we get to the end of Grace, and the album, we loop back to the start – to ‘Kiss off the day with a mute mouth. Pass the commute like I can die faster than you.’ Because no matter how much a person grapples with, realises, deeply understands, about life and their place in it, we still wake up in the morning back to square one. Life isn’t solved the minute you figure something out about it. It’s a daily operation to increase your resilience, cultivate a deeper acceptance, let go of what’s chasing you and lean in to the pressures. It’s cyclical, as I believe all things are. And instead of trying to fight the cycles, this album asks us to surrender to them. To let go.

These general themes, of acceptance, resilience, surrender are also about where I’m at in my personal life, in my journey towards a greater acceptance of myself as an artist and as a human being. Being more honest with the world and my community about who I am and letting go of some heavy heavy shame, which is a glorious thing.

This album has a beautiful heart, there is so much love running through it and I can’t wait for people to experience it.

Robert Sotelo is a mercurial melodist building a resplendent world of pristine DIY pop from the ground up. The Glasgow-based artist’s songs are meticulously crafted, patchworked together with eclectic arrangements and ardent vocal performances. Each of his albums to date has been accompanied by a growth-spurt, 2017’s debut ‘Cusp’ was packed with miniature psych overtures, whilst 2018’s 'Botanical' was more keyboard-minded and playful with a near-absurdist palette of sound. ‘Infinite Sprawling’ came out towards the end of 2019 and surprised with songs pulled together like a wakeful stretch, brisk with a lightness of touch. This was neatly followed by ‘Leap & Bounce’ melding a sparse synth-pop minimalism to an emotional undertow.
This November Upset The Rhythm will release Robert Sotelo’s vivid new album ‘Celebrant’. ‘Celebrant’ was intended to be and still is to some extent a joyous wedding album (Sotelo is recently married), but in his own words “the pandemic and the death of my aunt Carmen intersected with the original concept so the album is darker than intended in places.” More cinematic and measured than prior albums, Sotelo expounds that “it is purposefully a bigger sounding attempt at my keyboard songs and I felt more ambitious about it in general.” That’s certainly reflected in these twelve sophisticated loops of song, all curiously affecting and catchy, sprinkled with Sotelo’s offbeat musings and keenly accurate observations. Guitars are rarely employed on this record with Sotelo recruiting Iain Mccall, Ross Blake, Celia Morgan and David Maxwell to contribute brass, woodwind, spoken word and acoustic drums respectively. All of these additions blend well with the album’s synthetic core, softening and subtly shaping its pop-first nature into something more nuanced, vulnerable and human.
‘Celebrant’ is a plucky synth-centric collection of unbridled songs at times surefooted at others threatened by disconnect, skilfully steered by Sotelo with typical classy touch. ‘Dear Resident’ is divinely metronomic, ‘Behaviour’ luxuriates in pitching a silken saxophone into a frenzied drum-off. ‘The Currency Is Love’ swaggers with 80s vibes aplenty: “all the globe is listening as a system of concern” sings Sotelo in clipped manner, enjoying the placement of each word in each song precisely, however seemingly stumbled upon and surreal their selection might seem. Other highlights include title track ‘The Celebrant’ with its lush environ of droning keys, swooning woodwind and baroque reverie, and ‘This Is My House’ a woozy, maze-like triumph of melody. ‘Influencer’ is similarly masterful with melancholic strains of synth, sax and voice: “extract the data from the fruit straight off the tree, conducive testing proves it’s not reality, create a substitute to simulate the tide, with rich efficiency the differences can hide.” The song itself a cipher for an ill-imagined future we might be living in already.
With ‘Celebrant’ Robert Sotelo has made an album that sounds as big as its heart and imagination, true depth of feeling, true depth of connection. It’s an ornate album, complex and thoughtful, a fitting tribute to a wedding in unsettled times. What a treat that we’ve all been invited to the reception.

In the afterglow of her acclaimed 2020 album Silver Ladders, Los Angeles-based harpist Mary Lattimore returns with a culminating counterpart release, Collected Pieces: 2015- 2020. The limited-edition LP features new and previously unreleased material, Bandcamp-only singles, and other obscurities alongside standouts from her 2017 tape Collected Pieces. Beyond the vinyl compendium, an expanded tracklist on the cassette/digital version brings more of Lattimore's archives together for the first time. Lattimore has described the process of arranging these releases as akin to "opening a box filled with memories," and here that box continues to populate, accessible for both the artist and fans. Evocative material separated by years, framed as a portrait of an instrumental storyteller who rarely pauses, recording and often sharing music as soon as it strikes her. Seemingly in constant forward motion for the last five years since her Ghostly debut, Lattimore glances back for a breath, inviting new chances to live in these fleeting moments and emotions; all the beauty, sorrow, sunshine, and darkness housed within. Opening the cassette version is "Mary, You Were Wrong," which mirrors an author's bout with a broken heart. "It's about how you have to keep on going even if you make some mistakes," she says. The bittersweet refrain cycles throughout, a little brighter every time, slowly, like the way time tends to heal. Unreleased track "Sleeping Deer" came together during Lattimore's artist residency on a cattle ranch in Wyoming. She remembers, "a small deer whose mother I think had been run over by a car would hang out in the yard. I called him Lollipop and would leave vegetable scraps out." Lollipop returned daily to eat, rest, and wait for more. The music this vision inspired is patient and droning, with light plucks giving way to deeper, vibrating tones, permeating with a sense of anticipation. Next is a newer single, "We Wave From Our Boats," which she improvised after walking her neighborhood during the early days of lockdown in 2020, and shared on her Bandcamp. "I would just wave at neighbors I didn't know in a gesture of solidarity and it reminded me of how you're compelled to wave at people on the other boat when you're on a boat yourself, or on a bridge or something. The pull to wave feels very innate and natural." The heart of the track is a somber loop, over top which Lattimore's synth notes ruminate, each a gentle shimmer of optimism in the most anxious and absurd of days. Also recorded in 2020, "What The Living Do" is inspired by Marie Howe's poem of the same name, which reflects on loss through an appreciation for the mundane messiness of being human. The echoed, slow-marching track has a distant feel to it, as if the listener is outside of it, watching life play out as a film. "Princess Nicotine (1909)" scores actual footage, a dream sequence Lattimore imagined for J. Stuart Blackton's surreal silent film Princess Nicotine; or, the Smoke Fairy. She adopted the same approach for "Polly of the Circus," explaining it was the name of one of the old silent films discovered in permafrost in the Yukon featured in the documentary Dawson City: Frozen Time, "the only copy that survived and it kind of warped in the aging process." A trove of pieces are collected here, most recorded in the moment, just Lattimore and her Lyon and Healy Concert Grand Harp, contact mics, and pedals. Like her most affecting work, these songs showcase Lattimore's gifts as an observer, able to shape her craft around emotional frequencies and scenes. Her power as a musician is rooted in how she sees the world: in vivid detail, profoundly empathic, with deep gratitude for nature and nuance.

Over nearly 20 years, Howlin Rain may have become the quintessential independent American rock ’n roll band: a steam-spitting Hydra of cranked guitars, kicking asphalt dust through a kaleidoscoping travelogue of desert motels and dives, volleying forth transmissions of sci-fi poetry from the blacktop veins of this cracked and aching country.

Now, in America 2021, capping these strangest and sorest of times, the band returns with The Dharma Wheel, a six-track, 52-minute dive into a joyous fantasy realm of exaggerated present.

“I wanted The Dharma Wheel to be a portal from our everyday world, the one from which you stand on hard ground and hold the album in your hands and peer into the artwork, and into another universe,” says songwriter, guitarist and vocalist, Ethan Miller. “You enter into that universe with your eyes and ears and mind and take a ride through free-form meditation on these ideas — from big, fundamental concepts about our existence right down to the grease that rolls down the arm of a pulp novel killer as he eats a gas station hot dog in an old Dodge in an alleyway.”

Lyrically, Miller has completed his evolution into a mushroom-plucking Whitman of the West, singing outlandish tales in a topographic blend of Humbead’s Revised Map of the World and an inverted U.S. where downtrodden bodhisattvas roam the back streets and moonless country roads.

“Down in Florida swamps, run by nature’s law, standing in the water, Eden gone. Two men loading rifles, beasts making time, they shot a boy from an orange tree and watched the colored birds take flight, watch the colors as they soar and dive.” — ‘Under the Wheels.’

The band, Jeff McElroy (bass, backing vocals), Justin Smith (drums/percussion, backing vocals) and Dan Cervantes (guitar, backing vocals), again sounds hardwired into Miller’s vision, building tracks that swagger and sway in response to his verse. Lending a hand this time around is the legendary Scarlet Rivera (Bob Dylan’s Rolling Thunder Revue) on violin, and the endlessly inventive Adam MacDougall (Chris Robinson Brotherhood, Circles Around the Sun) on keys.

Songs were shaped via the blast furnace of endless gigs, then recorded often mere hours after the band slipped the stage.

“The captured sonic fact about this record is that it’s the sound of a band that rehearsed this material a lot and put a ton of work into its construction and was on the road a lot and recorded on days off in the tour schedule,” Miller says. “In some cases we were on stage on Saturday night playing these songs at quarter-to-2 in the morning and by Noon the next day we were sipping coffee in the studio playing them for the machine.”

Rivera’s violin is the first sound heard as the album dawns on the instrumental “Prelude.” Soon, the band joins, twirling the theme into a psychedelicized awakening. “Don’t Let the Tears” brings the boogie, with MacDougall’s madcap synth work and wah-wah guitars showering 70’s glitter upon a parquet dance floor of the mind. “Under the Wheels” and “Rotoscope” center the album with taut, compositional epics populated by murdering drifters and fuzz pedal explosions. The blue hour comedown of “Annabelle” meditates upon the weariness of lost love, with Rivera again amping the heartache via her violin strings.

“In the evening the trains go by, and shake the dust from dirty walls, sometimes I feel like a spider in an old mason jar, who threatens only convex light from down the hall. I’ve been lost to the world since the photos of the black hole, landed on my desktop screaming, perhaps the all and nothing all-in-one is just too much to take, for particles and matter that never found their way.” — ‘Annabelle’

The record closes with the 16-minute title track, a multi-movement suite which cycles from Crazy Horse-meets-Traffic jams through colossal, mass-moving funk stomp, eventually cresting and washing into a sing-along gospel lament.

The Dharma Wheel is an album of great depth, and one steeped in good vibes: a rich, glistening world of the ultra-vivid. As illustrated in Arik Roper’s cover art, the grand dharmachakra has been set in motion, churning off the California coast.

“We were trying to build a world big enough that the imagination won’t go soft on you after just a few listens and where our love for this music, and music in general — along with a good dose of audacity — create a magic carpet ride through the world of The Dharma Wheel,” Miller continues. “In pursuing that I think we also managed to make a record that has a lot of joy in it: the joy of playing music, the joy of experiencing music, the joy of storytelling and poetry, the kind of singular joy and extended ecstatic moment that only a real ‘band’ can express in just that way.”

And it’s this joy, this exuberance and dedication to the lines of cosmic expression — all centered in the exalted art of the everyday — that constructs the heart of the record. At its core, The Dharma Wheel is the triumph of a working band, a transmission from a never-paused before arriving for our strange, bruised, spectacular now.”

Over nearly 20 years, Howlin Rain may have become the quintessential independent American rock ’n roll band: a steam-spitting Hydra of cranked guitars, kicking asphalt dust through a kaleidoscoping travelogue of desert motels and dives, volleying forth transmissions of sci-fi poetry from the blacktop veins of this cracked and aching country.

Now, in America 2021, capping these strangest and sorest of times, the band returns with The Dharma Wheel, a six-track, 52-minute dive into a joyous fantasy realm of exaggerated present.

“I wanted The Dharma Wheel to be a portal from our everyday world, the one from which you stand on hard ground and hold the album in your hands and peer into the artwork, and into another universe,” says songwriter, guitarist and vocalist, Ethan Miller. “You enter into that universe with your eyes and ears and mind and take a ride through free-form meditation on these ideas — from big, fundamental concepts about our existence right down to the grease that rolls down the arm of a pulp novel killer as he eats a gas station hot dog in an old Dodge in an alleyway.”

Lyrically, Miller has completed his evolution into a mushroom-plucking Whitman of the West, singing outlandish tales in a topographic blend of Humbead’s Revised Map of the World and an inverted U.S. where downtrodden bodhisattvas roam the back streets and moonless country roads.

“Down in Florida swamps, run by nature’s law, standing in the water, Eden gone. Two men loading rifles, beasts making time, they shot a boy from an orange tree and watched the colored birds take flight, watch the colors as they soar and dive.” — ‘Under the Wheels.’

The band, Jeff McElroy (bass, backing vocals), Justin Smith (drums/percussion, backing vocals) and Dan Cervantes (guitar, backing vocals), again sounds hardwired into Miller’s vision, building tracks that swagger and sway in response to his verse. Lending a hand this time around is the legendary Scarlet Rivera (Bob Dylan’s Rolling Thunder Revue) on violin, and the endlessly inventive Adam MacDougall (Chris Robinson Brotherhood, Circles Around the Sun) on keys.

Songs were shaped via the blast furnace of endless gigs, then recorded often mere hours after the band slipped the stage.

“The captured sonic fact about this record is that it’s the sound of a band that rehearsed this material a lot and put a ton of work into its construction and was on the road a lot and recorded on days off in the tour schedule,” Miller says. “In some cases we were on stage on Saturday night playing these songs at quarter-to-2 in the morning and by Noon the next day we were sipping coffee in the studio playing them for the machine.”

Rivera’s violin is the first sound heard as the album dawns on the instrumental “Prelude.” Soon, the band joins, twirling the theme into a psychedelicized awakening. “Don’t Let the Tears” brings the boogie, with MacDougall’s madcap synth work and wah-wah guitars showering 70’s glitter upon a parquet dance floor of the mind. “Under the Wheels” and “Rotoscope” center the album with taut, compositional epics populated by murdering drifters and fuzz pedal explosions. The blue hour comedown of “Annabelle” meditates upon the weariness of lost love, with Rivera again amping the heartache via her violin strings.

“In the evening the trains go by, and shake the dust from dirty walls, sometimes I feel like a spider in an old mason jar, who threatens only convex light from down the hall. I’ve been lost to the world since the photos of the black hole, landed on my desktop screaming, perhaps the all and nothing all-in-one is just too much to take, for particles and matter that never found their way.” — ‘Annabelle’

The record closes with the 16-minute title track, a multi-movement suite which cycles from Crazy Horse-meets-Traffic jams through colossal, mass-moving funk stomp, eventually cresting and washing into a sing-along gospel lament.

The Dharma Wheel is an album of great depth, and one steeped in good vibes: a rich, glistening world of the ultra-vivid. As illustrated in Arik Roper’s cover art, the grand dharmachakra has been set in motion, churning off the California coast.

“We were trying to build a world big enough that the imagination won’t go soft on you after just a few listens and where our love for this music, and music in general — along with a good dose of audacity — create a magic carpet ride through the world of The Dharma Wheel,” Miller continues. “In pursuing that I think we also managed to make a record that has a lot of joy in it: the joy of playing music, the joy of experiencing music, the joy of storytelling and poetry, the kind of singular joy and extended ecstatic moment that only a real ‘band’ can express in just that way.”

And it’s this joy, this exuberance and dedication to the lines of cosmic expression — all centered in the exalted art of the everyday — that constructs the heart of the record. At its core, The Dharma Wheel is the triumph of a working band, a transmission from a never-paused before arriving for our strange, bruised, spectacular now.”

Sasha introduces LUZoSCURA, a new compilation that hasevolved from the thriving eponymous playlist. Featuring adiverse package of original works from a host of fresh talent, aswell as established artists and Sasha himself, it traverse selectronica, ambient, breaks and techno. Meaning light and dark, LUZoSCURA began on Spotify as a stash of tracks sent to Sasha which didn't meet the pace of his clubsets nor suit his venerated label LNOE, LUZoSCURA came into itsown through 2020 as Sasha gravitated toward more mellowed sounds while being off the road, and clubbers diverted their ears to home listening. Gaining a renewed source of energy inconnecting with more gifted, budding producers and seeing the project blossom, the idea for the compilation came off the back of doing a live stream solely featuring tracks from the playlist. Meticulously compiled to flow like a DJ mix for home listening, Sasha kicks it off with the buoyant, breaks-influenced 'Corner Shop', the first of his three tracks on the compilation. MJ Cole is among the established artists to feature with blissed out track 'Maestro', while The Micronaut, a multi-instrumentalist whose back catalogue was a favourite of Sasha's through lockdown, offers an immersive trip in 'Koelsa'. Lau.ra, lead singer from British experimental rock band Ultraísta, evokes a sense of spiritedness in 'I'll Wait' before we hear again from Sasha with another breaks-loaded trip in 'HNDI' and a collaboration withB ritish producer Franky Wah. Closing the odyssey with a stirring, expansive soundscape is synth duo Felsmann + Tiley.

5th album from Tangent. Limited edition white vinyl with DL card.

Evolutionary Cycles is the 5th full length from Dutch ambient beats duo Tangent. Their previous album Approaching Complexity leaned heavily on piano motifs. In contrast, Evolutionary Cycles spotlights the duo's adeptness at creating an atmosphere that focuses on moody elongated synths and tightly syncopated percussion experiments.
The album can be viewed as one of their more sullen efforts. During the writing process, the duo used the impact the human race has on nature as their overall inspiration; While this is a troubling and topical subject, there is always lightness in juxtaposition to Tangent's emotional weight.

This music was composed for SKALAR, an audio-visual kinetic art installation by light artist Christopher Bauder & Kangding Ray SKALAR is a large-scale art installation that explores the complex impact of light and sound on human perception. Created by light artist Christopher Bauder and musician Kangding Ray, this monumental artwork is a reflection on the fundamental nature and essence of human emotions. By combining a vast array of kinetic mirrors and perfectly synchronized moving lights with a sophisticated multi-channel sound system, SKALAR offers an audio-visual narration of radiant light vector drawings and multi-dimensional sound in enormous pitch-dark spaces. SKALAR is an intense journey through the cycle of basic human emotions. Everchanging tonalities trigger the full spectrum of emotional experiences using light, sound, and motion. The feelings of awe, surprise, exhilaration, and anticipation of having one’s senses overwhelmed are created, explored, and repeated in cycles throughout the piece, providing a collective, yet highly individual emotional experience. Light and darkness as endless cycles of day and night define our perception of time and influence our emotions. SKALAR is a central piece within light artist Christopher Bauder’s body of work, reflecting his deep fascination with light. In this gigantic installation, light is treated as a solid material that can be dimensionally sculpted and shaped, evoking abstract emotional associations. Intertwined with the tireless exploration of textures, rhythm, and sound design by musician and composer Kangding Ray, the silence of darkness is filled with iridescent forms of spatial light and sound. The original composition is spatialised in 360° over a 12 channels sound system, this stereo version has been mixed and mastered to convey a similar sense of space.
As of the release of this record, SKALAR has been presented in Berlin (Kraftwerk) in 2018,
in Mexico City (Frontón) in 2019 & in Amsterdam (Gashouder) in 2020. Fore more information about the piece and its concept, please visit skalar.art

Klein's offbeat singular vision continues to defy classification. Her acclaimed, self-released records – Lagata, Only and CC – along with Tommy for Hyperdub and her theatre musical Care, have allowed glimpses into Klein's uniquely spirally perspective on vocal abstraction, disarming experimentalism and pop culture wonderment. Yet these chapters have also served as masks to conceal the artist's own personal crises of self-belief, misrepresentation and belonging.

An 18-month writing process led to her new album Lifetime. It's an unexpectedly literal body of work which Klein compares to "giving someone your diary." Lifetime embraces the inevitable cycles of existence, phasing through moments of brutality, vulnerability, estrangement and unexpected fortitude. Lifetime embraces the inevitable cycles of existence, phasing through moments of brutality, vulnerability, estrangement and unexpected fortitude. Every sound in Lifetime is intentional, every influence—from 'King of Gospel Music' composer James Cleveland, to early 18th century tonalities in the b side, the work of 'race film' pioneer Spencer Williams, the residue of the religious experience is deeply personal. The 12 songs of the album are pieced together like a puzzle; seamless transitions connect each of its compositions in a reverse chronology, while every chord from every song is echoed someplace else.

What's been hinted at in Klein's live performances is now realised in full for Lifetime. Less vocal work allows her to be even more expressive, and in eschewing a tendency towards brief, truncated sketches, each song serves as its own long conversational piece, committed to realities of a lived experience. The artist who once grappled with self-doubt has set about breaking the cycle of insecurity for others like her, while mindfully chipping away at the conventions of classical music.

Like its artwork, Lifetime addresses intersecting life cycles: the inner and outer selves, hypermodernity versus history, living nightmares and dream states, while seeking the light and darkness in both. Part 1 opens with unmistakable Klein flourishes on the title track. Gusty pads, anxious, frayed-edge static arcs, and craters of deep negative space, all of which melt down to the clean slate of "Claim It," which is a tribute to embracing one's own blessings. "Listen And See As They Take" and "Silent" form their own microcosm, as the sound of crackling kindling burns backwards into imposing structures of distorted strings and disembodied marching drums, before returning to heat and ash again. "For What Worth", in collaboration with sound artist and saxophonist Matana Roberts, explores the kinship between two artists whose shared exploration of lineage leads them both toward uncharacteristically sweet clarity.

Part 2 is further steeped in black expressive styles of the past. "Enough is enough" links the Lifetime narrative to the broader diasporic black experience, inhabiting every chamber of a harmonica with ghostly notes of the present and past, as fragmented gospel chords reflect spiritual bonds between self and the divine. "We Are Almost There" begins the journey with nothing but the looped structures of multitude of voices. The drums and dischord of "Never Will I Disobey" wordlessly create the conditions for "Honour," a near 10-minute composition where crossed boundaries and crossed wires are exposed in real time, and sharp expressions of hurtfulness, accountability and corrupted expectations are rendered beautiful in representational form, via sustained synth tones which hum, jab and flit in natural disharmony. The interlude "Camelot Is Coming" draws on the choir tradition to prelude the spoken word recounts the cycles of trauma and death that form "99." Lifetime closes with the dystopian swirl of "Protect My Blood" a composition which details an excruciating rift, before blooming into serenity as it draws to a close.

Klein's Lifetime is laid bare, from the end to the beginning, and cycled over again. From her place within her family, to their place within her, to viewing the fragility of culture through the lens of memory. It's a lifetime, an embodiment of young livelihood, and an end as much it is a beginning.

Following a killer acid-piano house 12" and contributing a Test Pressing-certified new-disco chug to a split release with Tuff City Kids (both) on Terre des Pommes in 2014, The Working Elite further refine their ability to soundtrack festivities with Rockman / Born Again. While "Rockman" conveys an understatedly cinematic mood with repeated imitation string cycles over crisp electro foundations, "Born Again" presents a new wave / rave endurance test, summoning perspiration from dedicated day-dancers with its metronomic hammer of a beat overlaid with motivating synth-lines like marching toys. On the flip, Saap and Lauer (Tuff City Kids) provide inventive interpretations of these tunes, reshaping "Rockman" into a stomping, flashing-lights electro jam while "Born Again" gets a delightfully multi-dimensional digi-dub treatment complete with acid-reggae breakdown over a 4/4 house beat.