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Presenting the remarkable second album by the Chinese musician, DJ and creative chef Yu Su. An evolution from her 2021 debut LP and two track single released last year, Foundry radiates a fresh, fully-fledged and far-reaching sound.

The nucleus of Foundry began with material penned for live performance at MUTEK in 2025, alongside a move to London which brought about new shifts in perspective. Searching for a style that was true both to her roots and progression as an artist, Yu ventured in a post-orientalist direction, and came upon a language of ‘in-between music’.

Mixing the eclectic influence of her DJ sets with genre-defying collaborators and newfound taste for minimal and ambient techno, a dusky, dub-inflected character began to emerge. This broad palette reiterates Yu’s prior form in making connections across disciplines, which have not only consisted of music, but also multisensory endeavors which incorporate taste and smell.

With cover art featuring hammered metalwork by the artist Brendan Ratzlaff, for Yu the foundry represents a nexus of creation; a shared workspace where collaborators combined their materials and skills. With the input of Seefeel, Dip In The Pool, and Memotone, together their broad spectrum of aural elements underwent a chemical transformation, and were forged into something new.

Well-designed, ergonomic yet occasionally amorphous, the effect is that of meticulous freedom, both controlled and free flowing. Using immersive sound design, Yu creates inspiring spaces to revel in, which are warm yet steeped in shadow, with flashes of silvery light.

Featuring Yu in with duet Miyako Koda of cult Japanese art pop duo Dip In The Pool, the record kicks off in swirling but poised fashion with ‘A Jewel’. The dusky, reverberant underwater minimalism of ‘Sunless’ follows, which features British composer Memotone, and was influenced by Chris Marker’s 1983 film Sans Soleil.

The dubby, sunkissed affirmation on ‘Cul De Sac’ leads to the thumping acid stomp of ‘Foundry’, and onto the hazy glow of ‘One Place After Another’, featuring lauded soundheads Seefeel, where Yu’s voice is joined by Sarah Peacock’s, alongside Mark Clifford’s seductively gauzy fuzz guitar.

Venturing into more ominous territory is the liminal ambient dub of ‘Wanli’, followed by the rich textured flutter of ‘Os Cionn’, which translates from Gaelic as ‘above’. The album ends with the reflective, processional pulse of ‘Ripe Fruits’, which was inspired by Frederic Leighton’s 1892 oil painting The Garden of the Hesperides.

The LP’s visual was art directed by Lucas Dupuy, whose approach perfectly encapsulates Yu’s spatial sonics: “We both think in layers”, she comments. “Not linear layering, but horizontal layering, like weaving metallic threads, where a bigger picture of a grainy sphere will occur at the end.”

Mastered by Miles

Art by Lucas Dupuy & Brendan Ratzlaff

Oceanine, Jolanda Moletta’s third album and her first for Beacon Sound, is a powerful and ethereal statement of artistic community. Expanding on her previous work, each track represents a collaboration with a different female vocalist, with the foundational elements being generated entirely by her own voice. By turns haunting, enchanting, and inspiring, you won’t want to come up for air once you’ve been pulled under. Representing a
musical practice that is distinctly feminist, this is an album with a longer view in mind, to an age when the altars were to goddesses and women were centered as powerful beings representing the earth’s cycles of regeneration and renewal. Oceanine then, in all its beauty, can be viewed as an album of survival. It is deeply transportive, accessing something that lies within all of us. As the late, great Lithuanian folklorist and archaeologist Marija Gimbutas noted, “We must refocus our collective memory. The necessity for this has never been greater as we discover that the path of 'progress' is extinguishing the very conditions for life on earth.”

Jolanda Moletta is a multimedia artist and one-woman electronic choir. She creates wordless compositions through extended vocal techniques, integrating wearable-controlled live processing, alongside symbolic visuals. Moletta considers her performances to be a collective ritual and creates her Sonic & Visual Spells following the cycles of nature and the moon. Jolanda's 2022 critically acclaimed album Nine Spells was released on the Ambientologist label, followed by Night Caves on Whitelabrecs in 2025. Moletta’s artistic practice is a radical and spiritual journey through sound art, ritual, and the symbolic archaeology of the feminine.

Oceanine is inspired by sirens, water nymphs, and the timeless call of the sea. At its core lies Jolanda’s deep, lifelong connection to the Mediterranean Sea and to the ancient and modern myths and folklore that have emerged from its waters. Growing up by the Mar Ligure, Jolanda was surrounded by stories carried by salt, wind, and waves: legends of sirens, echoes of ancient voices, and the sea as both origin and oracle. This intimate relationship with the Mediterranean is not merely a backdrop, but a living source that shapes Oceanine’s emotional, symbolic, and sonic world.

Each track features a different female vocalist, creating a rich tapestry of voices, styles, and perspectives. This artistic choice not only broadens the album’s sonic palette, but also deepens its narrative core: celebrating the power, beauty, and mystique of feminine energy through myth, history, and sound.

The entire album is built exclusively from the human voice, processed and layered, yet always remaining voice, and nothing else. For each piece, Jolanda invited every vocalist involved to contribute a raw stem: a short, unedited melodic fragment of just a few seconds, inspired by the album’s themes. These intimate vocal seeds became the foundation of each track: the guest artists’ voices appear as brief, melodic stems, while the entire surrounding “orchestral” fabric is created solely from Jolanda’s own layered and processed voice. In this way, Jolanda’s voice becomes the Ocean itself, embracing, absorbing, and carrying the sirens’ calls within a vast, immersive soundscape. Every song is a unique expression of the feminine experience, revealing its depth, complexity, and emotional range, echoing the call of the sea and the many faces of the siren archetype.

The figure of the siren has transformed across centuries. In myths of Ancient Greece and Rome, sirens were hybrid beings, part woman, part bird, whose irresistible songs lured sailors to their doom. During the Middle Ages, the image shifted toward the half-woman, half-fish figure, often associated with temptation and danger. Historically, the voice of women has often been feared. Sirens were considered harbingers of misfortune not simply because they seduced or destroyed, but because they were powerful liminal beings.

In Ancient Greek, sirens functioned as psychopomps: figures who existed between worlds and guided souls, especially between life and death. Their songs were believed to carry forbidden knowledge, including prophetic insight and the ability to reveal truths about fate and the future. The danger of the sirens lay in what they revealed: knowledge that humans were not meant, or ready, to hear.

Oceanine confronts this legacy head-on. The voices heard throughout the album are not merely beautiful: they are dark and luminous, wild and enchanting, magical, soothing, dreamy, and at times fractured or distorted. They whisper, lament, beckon, and enchant. Like sirens, they skim the surface of the water and sink into its depths, hovering on the edge between tenderness and danger, vulnerability and power. They rise toward the sky, dissolve into mist, and return as echoes charged with raw, elemental emotion: voices that seduce, warn, mourn, and remember. They refuse to be reduced to decoration.

Alongside the album’s release in May, Oceanine will also unfold as a visual and performative work through a short art film. The film includes a live session recorded inside a sea cave facing the Mar Ligure, the very coastline where Jolanda spent her childhood, dreaming of sirens and listening to the sea as if it were speaking directly to her. This site-specific performance reconnects the music to its place of origin, allowing the voice to resonate within stone, water, and air, and transforming the cave into both a sanctuary and a threshold between myth and reality.

What if the sirens’ songs were considered dangerous because they carried another truth, an ancient truth long forgotten?

Oceanine embraces the idea that we are still deeply woven into myth. Though we may see ourselves as rational and modern beings, our world is saturated with ancient symbols and archetypes, often distorted, simplified, or stripped of their original meaning. And if those symbols are allowed to shift, if the mirror once held by the siren becomes an invitation to look beyond appearances and into what has been obscured, then we may finally uncover a deeper truth and reclaim the voice that was always ours.

Oceanine is not just an album. It is a reclamation, a spell, and a call from the depths.

""Neverland", the fourteenth studio album by ULVER is the sound of an escape. A journey into undiscovered lands.

Following three albums – "The Assassination of Julius Caesar" (2017), "Flowers of Evil" (2020), and "Liminal Animals" (2024) – rooted in more traditional song and production structures, "Neverland" marks a new chapter in the revered Oslo band's history.

"With 'Neverland' we embraced a more 'punk' spirit – more dreaming, less discipline – freer, quite simply", the band comments on the creative process behind the album.

Bursts of daybreak synths and whooshes of sound set the atmosphere, before the wolves start digging into the dynamics of ambient calm and anarchic mysticism. Dreamy and transportive textures develop into trippy percussive energies, and as the album unfolds, a lush and vibrant, and at times exotic space opens.

Apart from a few recurring distant voices and vocal chops, "Neverland" is a largely instrumental record, reminiscent of the mood and structure of that place where late '90s IDM sounds met the meandering structures of post-rock.

The ghost of premillennial sample culture surely haunts "Neverland", and some might even hear echoes from earlier acclaimed works like "Perdition City" (2000), or the "Silence" EPs (2001), or more recently "ATGCLVLSSCAP" (2016).

Still, "Neverland" sounds and feels like something else, something fresh in ULVER's continuous journey of perennial reinvention. Pop music from in-between worlds? A sonic hallucination? Or better: a collage of dreams. It's up to you."

Venturing into “a limbo world between medieval tropes and modern-day decay”, New Orleans musician Urq (half of art punk duo Spllit) returns with a new solo offering. Recorded over a single, intense month, This Dismal Village is a homespun document that sits somewhere between jittery punk, dreary psychedelia, and hooky bedroom pop. Recorded to 4-track, the record embraces limitation as a creative engine, resulting in a sound that is raw, unsettled, and deeply atmospheric.

The album is set not in a fixed point in time or geography, but a liminal environment where dystopic visions and archaic fixtures exist side by side. In the dismal village, kings and witches share space with televisions, skyscrapers, and modern enterprise; organ fanfares echo down streets populated by disgruntled townsfolk and whispered gossip. It is simultaneously the dark ages, 1950s suburbia, and a 21st-century metropolis. Embracing anachronism was central to the project’s identity, an attempt to collapse history into a single, uneasy present.

Sonically and philosophically, the album sits firmly in the tradition of rough and raw cassette rock. Guided By Voices’ Bee Thousand looms large as an influence, particularly its ability to build an entire world through unpolished, first-take recordings. Robert Pollard’s idea of the “four P’s” (psych, punk, prog, and pop) serves as a neat summary of the artist’s musical instincts and each element can be traced right through the heart of This Dismal Village. Further inspiration comes from post-punk’s so-called “Calgary Sound,” a loose movement blending psych pop, post-punk, and math/prog elements with a home-recorded, unpretentious ethos.

The result is an album that unrolls like a place wandered through, uneasy, occasionally familiar, and impossible to pin down in time. All captured on tape before it could disappear like an apparition, like a dream only half-remembered.

Formed in Taipei in 2013, Scattered Purgatory (破地獄) has occupied a liminal space between drone, ambient, psychedelic folk and ritualistic kosmiche experimentation. Their early work, including ‘Lost Ethnography of the Miscanthus Ocean’ (2014) and ‘God of Silver Grass’ (2016), blended dense instrumental drones, improvisational guitar, and ambient textures rooted in the heat, humidity, and urban pulse of Taiwan. Over the years, the duo-turned-band has drawn on Krautrock, minimalist electronic music, and heavy drone traditions while remaining firmly grounded in Taiwanese geography and culture.

‘Post Purgatory’ emerges after a three-year hiatus following the pandemic, a period the band describes as pivotal to the album’s conception. “The feeling of loss and uncertainty has later become the inspiration of this record, and ‘time’ is the main theme – it can heal or it can destroy,” they explain. Musically and lyrically, the record traverses Taiwanese, traditional Chinese, and English, reflecting the multilingual fabric of Taipei life. While there isn’t a linear storyline, metaphor and poetry imbue the lyrics with reflections on love, loss, and the human experience, interlaced with influences of Hokkien and Mando pop and traces of trip-hop.

Recorded half in their home and half at the studio where they composed their first album, ‘Post Purgatory' integrates precision, clarity, and digital production techniques. Guest contributions—from White Wu’s dynamic drumming to Minyen Hsieh’s tenor saxophone and dotzio’s sci-fi-infused vocals—expand the band’s sonic palette, creating a doom metal record shaped by electronic sensibilities.

‘Post Purgatory’ is a statement of loss and re-empowerment, a bridge between their past and present. Through it, Scattered Purgatory reclaim their distinctive voice, presenting a sound that is at once rooted in Taiwan, informed by global musical traditions, and unflinchingly forward-looking.
credits

The breakthrough album. Enrico Rava's second solo record, recorded in Milan in January 1973 and released on the German BASF label, is nothing less than a cornerstone of Italian jazz-rock - the record that caught Manfred Eicher's attention and opened the doors to ECM. Rava himself has called it his breakthrough, and history proved him right.

The lineup is killer: John Abercrombie on guitar, Bruce Johnson on bass, Chip White on drums. Four musicians operating at the absolute peak of early seventies fusion energy - electric, cosmopolitan, burning with that particular fire that only existed in that brief window when jazz met rock and nobody knew the rules yet. Abercrombie, already on his way to becoming one of the most distinctive voices in electric jazz guitar, delivers some of his most ferocious early work here. White's drumming is relentless, pushing the music forward with an intensity that never lets up.

If Miles' Bitches Brew-era speaks to you, if Ian Carr's Nucleus gets you moving, if you know Sun Ra's Lanquidity and Don Cherry's Relativity Suite by heart - this is essential listening. Rava's vision was already fully formed: South American rhythms, Mediterranean warmth, free jazz ferocity, rock power - all flowing together without borders or categories. By the early seventies, Rava had absorbed everything - the New Thing, the European free scene, the electric revolution coming out of Miles' studio - and forged something entirely his own.

The seven tracks cover serious ground. "Bunny's Pie" introduces the music with an almost cosmic atmosphere of suspense, hovering in that liminal space before it trails off into the up-tempo vibrant frenzy of "Trial N. 5" - Abercrombie and Rava trading swirling solos at full intensity, the rhythm section locked in tight. "Dimenticare Stanca" moves from Rava's expressive balladic intro into pure funk, guitar and trumpet steering over the rhythmic drive with absolute confidence. The title track carries the lyrical feel and cadence of an Incan-Peruvian folksong - that cosmopolitan spirit made audible. "Fluid Connection" rides a funky bass riff into fusion heaven, with standout trumpet and guitar solos that build and release with perfect tension. "Cheerin' Cherry" pays homage to the great Don Cherry - Rava's spiritual mentor and fellow traveler in world music - exploring a North African soundscape that points toward the global jazz to come. Johnson's "Peace" closes the album with a minute and a half of serene, blissful calm - a moment of stillness after the storm.

This audiophile reissue - cut from the original masters, pressed by Pallas in Germany on 180gm vinyl, housed in a thick laminated hand-glued gatefold - does full justice to an album that remains a collector's holy grail.

Don't sleep on this one. Limited Edition.

Emerging from a shared love of long-form storytelling and hypnotic groove, Techfui presents a stunning double album from Ada Kaleh and Wareika, a cross-continental dialogue between two singular visions of deep and micro house.
Romanian composer and sound alchemist Ada Kaleh channels his signature world of organic textures, dub-soaked spaces and slowly evolving rhythms, known from his forward-thinking work on R&S, Apollo and his own Ada Kaleh Romania imprint. His part of the productions unfolds like a ritual: subtle, detailed and endlessly spiralling, built for dancers who like to disappear inside the groove.
On the other side, trio Wareika bring their unique blend of live jazz sensibility, meditative dub and electronic body music, honed over years of improvisation and boundary-blurring club performances. Their contributions lean into fluid polyrhythms, elastic basslines and shimmering harmonies, tracks that feel alive, breathing and in constant motion.
The journey is expanded by a heavyweight remix cast: minimal house icon Thomas Melchior, Techfui founder and Bahrain mainstay Salah Sadeq, whose deep house productions are crafted to move both heart and floor, and the elusive studio force DUST. Each rework dials the hypnosis in further, stretching time and space without ever losing the warmth of the original material.
True to Techfuis ethos of bringing family, friends and fresh talent together to create honest, unconventional art, this double album is not just a collection of tracks, but a deep, carefully produced listening experience, timeless deep house and micro house for late nights, early mornings and every hazy moment in between.

Max In The World & Kroba is a collaboration between producer Max In The World and saxophonist Kroba.

The project began with the release of 2023’s Excursions on Bliss Point, a record that explored the space between club and home listening and became a favorite at many an early morning afters.

On Structures Of Feeling 1, the duo have conjured three cuts of dubby and expansive downtempo: dance music for dreaming, deep house for liminal states, body music awash in the feeling of living now, in these times, in these bodies.

At 19, Helviofox adds his signature to the batida template that by now seems to have been in existence since forever. Such is the strength of this primordial fountain, a source of rejuvenation. Also within the literal family: Helvio cites brothers Dadifox and Erycox as main influences.

Curiosity for the sound made him go into production by the time he was 13. A couple of years later (2020) he became co-founder of TLS with E8Prod, Alberfox, DiionyG and other mates. His talent fully developed since then, opening a slight detour that became a new path parallel to the main road.

Lively basslines anchor the beat directly lifted from tradition and clearly channeled to the dancefloor. Strong, well rounded grooves, a spot-on sense of timing and tempo, elegant atmospheres, all part of Helvio's notion of arrangement and his perception of dance music boundaries, stretching them just enough to present a challenge but not as far as to disconnect head and feet and risk losing the floor.

This liminal space between experimentation and popularity is both dangerous and attractive. There is no one formula. Precisely why it still retains plenty of fuel for current and future generations to contribute personal visions.

Lisboa, 2025

KIK is the new project of two core strategists of sonic enigma HHY & The Macumbas: Jonathan Uliel Saldanha & João Pais Filipe. Ditching acoustic instruments in favour of drum synthetics & tightly controlled sound design, the duo's debut album NIGHTSHIFT focuses on off-kilter club tracks that thwart 4-on-the-floor flavours whilst maintaining trance-inducing extended cycles. If the devil is in the details, this is all about the spectromophology of the details.
Beginning with moving morse code blips in an odd time signature We Can't Dance announces the characteristic unlife of the album's pulse. Once the kick enters, syncopations progressively accumulate into a weave of interacting rhythmic lines. Smoke Machine's groove is reminiscent of the riddims Saldanha explores in his HHY & The Kampala Unit, adding scintillating pads and snippets of blitzed out laughter.

The album's third track, Proff, hearkens back to the initial pulse, displaced and pitched down in register. Here's a more meditative temperament on display, where the regular geometries of the club have been moved into higher-order structures. Segments rise & fall into earshot. Deepening the meditative mood, Back Room explores a short melodic leitmotif anchoring the track's wander- lust.

The rhythmic assault continues in Tactical Gear, bringing further experiments into polyrhythmic contours exacerbated by preci- sion movements of echo & delay. Limping can be heard as a what-if sonic fiction taking Autechre-inspired abstractions through Durbanoid Gqom terrains. The album closes with its longest track, Night Shift, that segments into shifting sound worlds.

Drawing from industrial grit, cybernetic percussion and the eerie fluorescence of after-hours energy, NIGHTSHIFT exists in the liminal space between body music and abstraction——a soundtrack for phantom warehouses and malfunctioning machines. This isn’t just music; it’s an immersive sonic environment, a journey into the heart of deconstructed dancefloors.
For fans of Rian Treanor, Proc Fiskal, Jlin and Lorenzo Senni.

Most recently, HHY has been collaborating with Nyege Nyege through projects such as Kampala Unit and Arsenal Mikebe, performing live with the ensemble alongside Valentina Magaletti, and producing records for artists like Fulu Miziki, as well as collaborations with Phelimucasi, Rey Sapiens, Kingdom Choir and others. He also released Camouflage Vector: Edits From Live Actions 2017–2019 on the label, a live album featuring two tracks with Adrian Sherwood.

Previous collaborations include Tunnel Vision with Badawi (released on Tzadik), the HHY & The Macumbas album Beheaded Totem on House of Mythology, and Fujako (Wordsound, with MC Sensational), along with double-bill shows with acts such as Clipping and Death Grips.

For over six decades, Charlemagne Palestine (b. 1947, New York) has been a pioneering composer, performer, and multimedia artist, celebrated for his ecstatic sonic explorations and ritualistic, metaphysical performances. Emerging from the cross-disciplinary New York art scene of the 1960s and ’70s, he helped shape a heretical edge of minimalism alongside figures like Conrad, Riley, Niblock, and Glass. Trained as a Jewish cantor and later as the carillonneur at St. Thomas Church, Palestine cultivated a deep fascination with resonance and overtone—an obsession that evolved through his use of percussion, early synthesizers, and monumental piano works, influencing artists from John Cale to Nick Cave.

Animated by a spirit of ecstatic play and what he calls his »meschugge« (Yiddish for »crazy«) sensibility, Palestine’s universe blends the sacred and the absurd, filled with soft toys, ritual gestures, and immersive sound environments. Rejecting the »minimalist« label in favor of a maximalist, »spontanimalist« approach, he creates long-form, resonant performances that transform spaces into vibrating, living organisms—opening portals into the nature of time, sound, and devotion.

In the same vein, the aptly titled live record »The Organ is the World’s Greatest Synthesizer« – performed during the Sonic Acts Festival at Amsterdam’s Oude Kerk in 2025, and taking its title and cover art from a drawing realized by Palestine himself during the concert – adds to his opaque yet vibrant personal mythology and intimate transcendence, marking a return to the Staalplaat catalog after »Fffroggssichorddd« (2020) and »Music for Big Ears« (2001).

Beginning with a resonating bell and his falsetto overtone singing, then surrendering to the endless, wild soundscapes of tone-feeling and beat frequencies generated by the church’s organ, across 40+ minutes, single sound sources evolve into clusters, entangle fully with one another, and establish their own spatial existence and aural architectures. We witness the traces of something that can be described as a perpetual performance, a test for the ever-changing interaction between artist, instrument, space and, ultimately, us.

Since Palestine has always defined his execution as a form of anti-composition - of simply »being in the music« as if inhabiting a space - the true power of »The Organ is the World’s Greatest Synthesizer« lies in encapsulating a moment of Palestine’s practice in its most authentic, live dimension. Sound becomes at once subtle substance and strange telluric force, animating physical forms from some unknown channel beyond and within, accessible only through our sensorium. The point in this liminal temple of tone, timbre and frequency is not to learn anything but to simply enter. Palestine earns once again his self-given title of contemporary shaman by keeping this sonic portal open, allowing us to witness and make it last.

»I have always felt and heard and mixed the sounds in my world as liquids not as solids. Sonic liquids are material that is endlessly transformable. But I’m not crazy about people who go around defining stuff.«

A collaboration between THE FUNKIN' MACHINE and Chicago's STARCREATURE RECORDS. This 6 track LP features full color art and cuts from cosmic disco to mediterranean boogie. THE FUNKIN' MACHINE specializes in sparkling and groovy funky sounds from the slopes of Vesuvius.After a sold-out 7", KIBBI GIBBONS returns with an album's worth of smooth of smooth, spaced-out, jazz-funk delights. Their debut LP is 7 tracks of deep house/acid jazz instrumentals that land you between an Ibizan beach and a liminal Mario Kart character selection screen. Limited to 300 copies.

2026 Repress

Flickering in ultraviolet, there is an elusive place where blue pill meets red, ups become downs, and day merges with night. Those liminal spaces where anything is possible is where you’ll find Nightbus and their hypnotic debut album Passenger. Doom, uncertainty, and opportunity lurk in the shadowy corners of their murky existence with stops at disassociation, co-dependency, and addiction before reaching its final destination - a glimmer of hope.

The in-between of Nightbus’ own Gotham lies where Manchester’s city pulse meets Stockport’s outer realm. An audio-visual entity formed among a musical family of friends, freaks, and foes in messy mills and after hours on dancefloors alike, their sound bleeds from tension where collective creative forces are bound together and collide with the fallout of being torn apart. Before even playing a show, their So Young released single ‘Mirrors’ – a knowing nod of respect to some well-known gloomy Northerners - may have made old school indie heads shimmy at shows in Salford’s The White Hotel but also signalled the duo’s knack for offering listeners a Bandersnatch approach to hitchhiking their own personal Nightbus in whatever direction they choose to take. “Everyone can have their moment with our songs; the music is our response to who we are as young people, living in the city full of this energy right now,” they say.

Whilst reverb hefty melodies and dread-filled loops embody isolation from writing at each of their home studio set-ups, magic happens in the ether across 90s trip-hop, indie sleaze and electronica; Jake’s production layers Olive’s pop sentimentality with drums and samples whilst tales of a cast of faceless characters place Olive as puppet master; her severed self’s perspective manipulating their stringed limbs at arm’s length to see how their stories play out when scenes reflecting her own lie close to the bone. “It’s a bit fucked; like having this out of body experience with a made-up movie running through my head,” she says. “As I write I can see they’re all from a similar world, but they allow me to explore different feelings without giving away part of myself.”

Recorded at The Nave in Leeds with producer-engineer Alex Greaves (Heavy Lungs, Working Men’s Club), surprise and danger lies in every crevice. Brooding whispers turn to chants on 6-minute opus ‘Host.’ Improvised when performed live, its immersive shift in tempo leads to hefty dub courtesy of Jake’s pedals. Even then, you won’t know shit’s hit the fan until its mid-point reveal when ominous bass blasts a thunderous soundtrack as its protagonist defiantly walks away after committing the perfect crime. “It makes you wait, and more songs should have sirens,” Olive grins.

Leaning deeper into alter-egos via the video game-psychological horror of a Silent Hill dystopia, the band’s Fight Club moment ‘Angles Mortz’ turns its literal translation of death angles on its head as it reflects upon kink and internalised shame reincarnated as pride. Elsewhere the ice cool ‘Landslide’ is a Requiem for a Dream about the addiction of being in a band; ‘The Void’ explores co-dependency and estranged relationships; and carefully selected samples revive house track ‘Just A Kid’ from the band’s early incarnation. Passenger’s every direction is to face challenges head on. “That is what’s so great about horror; you can see through predictable patterns so when the unexpected occurs it's more realistic and uncomfortable… I want to own the dark stuff!”

As for Passenger’s first single, the pulsating ‘Ascension’ is a spiralling deep dive into death, suicide, and legacy around who or what we leave behind. A noughties club banger by way of NYC beats - ergonomically designed for those who like to stay out a little too often and too late - it throbs like a house party’s partition wall as the literal levelling up undergoes a neon transformation; blue glitching to pink, diffusing the white construct of the Nightbus Matrix. “It really does feel like the end of something and was purposely written that way,” they say, “the ascension is like a firework going off!”

With wheels in motion, Nightbus has become a movement surpassing sonic realms. Between shows from Porto to Brighton taking in The Great Escape, Rotterdam’s Left Of The Dial and Paris’ Supersonic; DJing; remixing; guesting (BDRMM’s Microtonic album); and even enlisting talented like-minds to craft a 3-part queer coming-of-age music video series which ties in with a new ‘hyperpop’ phase in the evolution of their popular Nightbus Soundsystem club night, heads are now being turned from sports brands to high-end fashion designers. “There are things we can’t reveal just yet,” tells Olive, “but we’re excited about the direction this beast we’ve created is heading.” As the album philosophises and asks one ultimate question; what does it truly mean to be ‘Passenger’? Nightbus may not claim to offer a definitive answer, but it might make you feel a bit better about those demons.

Assembled by Pedro Alves Sousa, Má Estrela is a conjuration of ideas and obsessions around dub, leftfield dance phenomena and the hypnotic potential of urban somnambulance.

In a levitating state, not exactly detached from the unease of these end times, Sousa surrounds himself by a number of accomplices from past and present endeavours to project a scrying mirror reflection of distinct languages of trance and liberation - dub's space and infinity, jungle and footwork's broken shards, DJ Screws legacy perpetually reanimated via numerous slowed down anonymous versions on Youtube and the lyricism and fire of jazz.

Temporarily a quartet, comprised of Sousa on saxophone and its electronic processing, Bruno Silva and Simão Simões on electronics and Gabriel Ferrandini on acoustic and electronic drums, after the departure of Miguel Abras, Má Estrela had in their 2022 debut album their first document of this ongoing process that’s now continued with ‘Tornada". Miguel Abras has since been replaced with Bruna de Moura and Má Estrela came back to being a five piece.

Coming out in November through Discrepant, with Miguel Abras' bass still present, 'Tornada' deepens the symbiotic connection between those rhythmic, melodic and textural particles in a mutating flux of continuities and disruptions throughout seven tracks. Featuring the invocations of Elvin Brandhi in 'All You Did', 'Tornada' makes its way amidst harmonic spectres, rhythmic debris that breathe for life and a certain, implicit idea of ritual that sustains itself liminally between the ethereal dissolution of time and the physical projection of space.

Alvorada is Montanha’s first long play: an ambient-leaning work, nocturnal in mood yet touched by electricity, tracing a journey from waking activity into dream logic. Recorded mostly in the late hours of the evening with windows open to the city, letting its air and sounds influence the music, it sometimes reached the early moments of sunrise. The title, meaning “dawn,” reflects both the liminal hours of its making and the band’s own renewal. These tracks are closer to drawings than songs: narratives written between instruments, moments of tension and release, fragments of memory and dream. The tracklist follows this nocturnal voyage with the patience of Eno, the disquiet of Uematsu, and the madness of Miles Davis’ Decoy, oscillating between streets and sleep, routine and reverie.

Montanha was formed in 2010 by André Azevedo, Nuno Oliveira, João Sarnadas, and Tito Silva, bonding over architecture school all-nighters on videogame soundtracks (Age of Empires, Super Mario). They began as a psychedelic rock combo and in 2013 released their self-titled EP which introduced a raw, improvised energy. But the album that was meant to follow was abandoned as the band entered hiatus. The four members turned their creative drive towards co-founding Favela Discos, where experimentation with media and form reshaped their ideas of music, and developed their taste, their way of playing, and a more personal sound that was more open and disconnected from a defined genre.

By 2017, Montanha had returned to the studio with new experience, no longer a rock band in the traditional sense but a project devoted to improvisation and electronic soundscapes. An ever gentrifying city forced them to abandon acoustic drums, and they embraced electronic beats instead, and became mobile; one guitar dissolved into full synths, leaving the other to converse with bass. Improvisation remained their compass. In improvisation there are no mistakes, only missed opportunities. Montanha found their opportunity in the routine of the studio to break routines of pop and experimental. The result is a body of nearly fifty hours of recordings, sculpted into an album.

Alvorada is not only Montanha’s first LP but also the dawn of their new phase. Improvised yet carefully sculpted, the record expands the territory of the song into nonlinear narratives, letting the language of night, dream, and city seep into its form.

The core duo of Max D and Matt Papich debut on Peak Oil following full-lengths for Future Times and PAN with a fresh suite of tactile, diffuse fusion. Half the collection emerged from a 2021 session at Tempo House rounded out by Dustin Wong, Mezey, and Jeremy Hyman, while the rest took shape in moments both collaborative and isolated, collaged together with CDJs into something more liquid and liminal than the sum of its parts.

Across fractured jazz, pitch-shifted downtempo, revelatory guitar, and interstitial interplay, Lifted’s sound is one of flux, fragments, and filigree. Oblique harmonic synergies dusted in chance encounters and rogue acoustics. Diverse moods mapped with split strings and the space between notes. Music untethered by form or expectation, snaking like an ungrounded cable through a geodesic dome of deep-listening.

The Nightlife isn’t just a single. It’s a fever dream. Honey Dijon and Chloë have built a sonic peephole into a city that only half-existed—New York’s Meatpacking District in the late ’70s, that liminal wet haze where sweat, leather, and desire commingled under streetlights that flickered like dying stars. Imagine Blade Runner rewritten by Jean Genet, but scored for bodies pressed together at 4 a.m.—that’s the terrain.

And in the marrow of this track, the ghost of Kim English’s Nitelife thrums—an invocation of the 1990s underground, those rooms where freedom was fragile but absolute. Honey Dijon doesn’t just sample it. She resuscitates it, drags it into the now, dresses it in sequins and grief, insists we dance harder because the future is burning quicker.

This isn’t nostalgia. This isn’t homage. This is ritual. A reminder that nightlife was always resistance—radical, erotic, communal. And The Nightlife is a portal, a signal flare, maybe even an omen. Something larger is coming. Consider this the first act.

Noumen returns to Central Processing Unit after a six-year absence with Altum. This bumper record, the Ukrainian artist's fourth release for the Sheffield label and first since 2019 double-LPObscurium, serves to remind us all why Noumen's music has been lauded by the likes of Mixmag and Resident Advisor in the past.Altumis a consummate piece of contemporary electronic production, a technoid exploration of outer-edges electronica that nods to genre greats like Autechre while still maintaining its own unconventional charm.

Across well over an hour of music here we find Noumen repeatedly playing punchy mid-tempo beat work off of some more cerebral tuned synths.Altumkicks off with the epic 'Oion' - beginning in that Autechre/AFX mid-tempo zone, full of deep-sea bangs and whirrs, the track slowly builds to a final stretch of delay-drenched keys which set us free amidst the outer cosmos, almost Sun Ra-style. It's a perfect liminal-space roller and an apt scene-setter forAltum.

'Oion' provides a blueprint for several of the album's other highlights - plenty of the joints here adopt that same approach of hitting hard with the drums and soft with the synths. Second track 'Splitter' takes on the baton from 'Oion' while souping up the kick to warehouse levels; the beats in 'Far Wind' splutter like a needle skipping on a mid-90s Tresor drop; 'Fate Carette', all eerie looped synth leads, is a highlight as the album enters the home straight.

The rhythm production (which, it should be noted, is exemplary throughoutAltum) is ratched up in intensity on a handful of numbers. 'Telemask' displays a delightful breakbeat - if you'd told me this was sampled from golden age A Tribe Called Quest, I'd have believed you. Mid-section anchors 'Awe' and 'Axis' are glitchers in the Mike Paradinas mould, with the latter showing off some pleasing steel pan-esque synth leads for good measure. And whileAltumgenerally maintains a processional pace throughout, there are points where Noumen toughens up the drums for club deployment - 'Unveilness' shows off a real chunkiness in the low end, closer 'Spurling Sign' plays a satisfying rolling groove off of ever-layering synths, and the title-track is an alien machine-funker in keeping with fellow CPU electronauts like Silicon Scally and Cygnus.

Noumen's third album for Central Processing Unit is a pleasingly hefty double-LP which builds on the zany invention of acts like Modeselektor and Autechre to delightful effect.

FFO: Autechre, Aphex Twin, Modeselektor, Bochum Welt, LFO

Eoism return with six tracks of driving and atmospheric Electro, Techno and beyond. All based on live jamming, expect some crispy rhythms, pounding baselines and lush melodies suitable for both home listening and excessive club treatments.

Sanguis is the alias of Berlin-based producer Ludwig Wandinger, a fixture in the city's experimental scene.
On his debut album Wounding dark ambient textures and solo piano improvisations let the listener's attention slip in and out of focus creating a liminal state of dreaming, feeling and drifting through inner worlds and thoughts.
Wandinger tries to capture fleeting moments - all tracks are unedited first takes, some recorded only with his phone in various places, from a friend's flat in Neukölln to his family home in rural Bavaria. Background noises become a part of the music and create a tangible sense of place, urging the listener to keep an ear out for one's own surroundings.
Though firmly rooted in the ambient genre, the album is not just about finding comfort. It's an acknowledgement of the ambiguity of our world where menace and beauty coexist, a dichotomy most apparent in nature itself - a constant source of inspiration for Wandinger.
Wounding is about walking alone on damp foliage at night and being handed a blanket by a loved one at the earliest daylight.

Westerman’s 3rd album, A Jackal’s Wedding, became a document of leaving and arriving, ongoing transformation, and the liminal spaces between shadows and the lights that cast them. The collaboration with producer Marta Salogni (who mastered An Inbuilt Fault) created a woozy and dreamier work than the 2 previous Westerman albums. Recorded in a 17th century mansion, converted into an art space on the island of Hydra; the album reflects the chaos and limits of the space and uses it as a collaborator.

Westerman’s 3rd album, A Jackal’s Wedding, became a document of leaving and arriving, ongoing transformation, and the liminal spaces between shadows and the lights that cast them. The collaboration with producer Marta Salogni (who mastered An Inbuilt Fault) created a woozy and dreamier work than the 2 previous Westerman albums. Recorded in a 17th century mansion, converted into an art space on the island of Hydra; the album reflects the chaos and limits of the space and uses it as a collaborator.

Ein inspiriertes Treffen musikalischer Köpfe erzeugt eine mehrdimensionale Noir-Welt auf diesem luftig-intimen, wunderschönen Kooperationsalbum. Zugleich der Höhepunkt seiner Disciples-Trilogie, treibt Ruth Mascelli (Special Interest) zusammen mit Mary Hanson Scott die paranoiden Torch-Songs des Vorgängers "Non-Stop Healing Frequency" in noch liminalere und abgehobenere Gefilde. Die Songseite ist stärker denn je, während die FX-beschallten Rohrblatt-Klänge von Mary Hanson Scott nicht nur Ruths verführerisches Gesäusel perfekt untermalen, sondern auch ein wolkig-ambientes Klangbett für die Instrumentals bilden, die die Sequenzen zusammenhalten und zu einer wahrhaft emotional mitreißenden Reise formen. Mit Gastauftritten von Jae Matthews (Boy Harsher) und Maria Elena (Special Interest). Im Coverdesign von Brett LaBauve von der Queer-Dance-Party-Institution Gimme A Reason, New Orleans. Zu den Höhepunkten zählt die episch-sehnsuchtsvolle Power-Ballade "Haunted Hearts", das hinreißende Zeitlupen-Cover des Hi-NRG-Pop(per)-Knallers "Self Control" und die zerhackten Rhythmen von "A Lover's Theory Of Value" zwischen abgestumpftem Trip-Hop und Julee Cruise, während "Vaseline Lens" an die elegischen Klagelieder über den Niedergang auf Seite 2 des Debütalbums "A Night At The Baths" erinnert.

Jessika Kenney ist Sängerin, Komponistin, Autorin, Klangkünstlerin und Lehrerin, deren Engagement für Improvisation, Poesie und Klangforschung eine einzigartige Perspektive hervorgebracht hat. Ihre Erkundungen von Klang, Raum und der Metaphysik des Klangs wurden in vielen Kontexten und an vielen Orten präsentiert, darunter in der Seattle Public Library, im Nottingham Contemporary und im Benton Museum. Zu ihren Kollaborationen und Projekten gehören eine umfangreiche Diskografie mit Eyvind Kang, das letzte aufgezeichnete Vokalwerk von Alvin Lucier, Auftritte mit Melati Suryodarmo, die Komposition der Vokalmusik für A24s Midsommar und die Chorleitung für SUNN O)))'s Monoliths and Dimensions. Jessika Kenney, bekannt für ihren einzigartigen Umgang mit der Stimme, hat in den letzten zwei Jahrzehnten neue Klangwelten geschaffen, die auf intensiven Studien, rituellen Praktiken und einer ungezähmten Ausdruckskraft beruhen. Von ihren gefeierten Kollaborationen mit Eyvind Kang bis zu ihrer Vokalkomposition für A24s ,Midsommar" bewegen sich Kenneys Arbeiten an der Schnittstelle zwischen dem Heiligen, dem Klangvollen und dem Unsichtbaren. Auf Uranian Void wendet sich Kenney nach innen und spürt den Konturen von Erinnerung, Resonanz und Wahrnehmung nach. Mit verschwommenen Sinuswellen, Hydrofonaufnahmen, einem Ghazal von Hafez und Originaltexten ist das Album eine Meditation über Liminalität, in der Schimmer und Schatten gleichermaßen vibrieren. Kenneys Stimme webt sich durch alles hindurch: manchmal flüsternd, manchmal strahlend , immer präzise. ,Dieses Album ist eine Übung in Transparenz innerhalb der Dunkelheit", erklärt Kenney. ,Es geht darum, offen zu bleiben für Zweifel , für Nachhall, für das, was jenseits unserer Wahrnehmung liegt." ,Uranian Void" wurde von Randall Dunn (SU NN O))), Kali Malone, Annea Lockwood) produziert und aufgenommen, dessen charakteristische räumliche Details und Tiefe dem Album seine immersive Klangarchitektur verleihen. Jeder Ton, jeder Atemzug und jede Resonanz wird mit Intimität und Dimension wiedergegeben und verstärkt Kenneys Erforschung von Präsenz und Abwesenheit. Fragmente, die während Besuchen in Spokane, ihrem Elternhaus, aufgenommen wurden, bilden die Grundlage des Albums. Im Studio transformiert, werden diese zu beschwörenden Vierzeilern - leise, aber eindringlich - die den subtilen Puls von Ort, Zeit und Körper offenbaren. Echos der Vergangenheit verschmelzen mit der Gegenwart , als ob die Wände selbst sich erinnern und mitschwingen würden. Uranian Void ist Musik für Schwellenbereiche - eine Einladung, sich mit dem Unsichtbaren und Kaum hörbar. Mit dieser kraftvollen und poetischen Aussage bestätigt sich Kenney als eine der visionärsten Vokalistinnen der Gegenwart.

Innitial pressing soul out at once, now repress in neon green vinyl colour available! Ride bassist Steve Queralt's debut solo album Swallow is a beautifully brooding nine-track collection that combines the darkly textured soundscapes of early M83 and Sigur Rós with an electronic sheen reminiscent of Boards Of Canada. It also features guest vocals from Sonic Cathedral labelmate Emma Anderson (formerly of Lush and Sing-Sing) and Verity Susman (Electrelane, MEMORIALS).Swallow has been slowly but surely pieced together between Ride albums and tours over the past five years and, perhaps as a result, has a slightly dystopian, Blade Runner feel that reflects the liminal spaces in which it was created. Despite the fact that the majority of the album is instrumental, there is plenty of power and emotion poured into these moody, moonlit soundtracks. When words do appear, an underlying anger and political slant emerges and amplifies the album's dark intensity. This is most notable on the closing track, `Motor Boats', where he overlays words from Julie Sheldon's polemic poem The Same Boat ("We're all in the same boat they say, but I would disagree"). According to Steve, these simple words of rejection "capture the reality of our times perfectly". However, it was the collaborations with the two guest vocalists that tied the whole thing together and paved the way to the finished album. "After a few false starts, I had started to doubt the project altogether. It was going nowhere," says Steve. "Then, out of the darkness, Emma got in touch to tell me that she'd found her voice and could I send her some tracks. A few files back and forth and an afternoon in the studio later and we had `Lonely Town' and `Swiss Air'."In the meantime, Verity from Electrelane had added vocals to the song `Messengers' and transformed the track. Matthew Simms, now her bandmate in MEMORIALS, would go on to mix the finished album."Swallow has turned out so much better than I had hoped," enthuses Steve. "I'd fallen out of love with it so many times I was thinking of calling it Loveless. But then, that wouldn't be the whole story...

Blazing onto ICONYC for its 21st release, Swiss sonic alchemist Shiffer makes a striking debut with the magnetic All I’ve Been EP. Celebrated for his emotional finesse and innate ability to connect with unexplored corners, Shiffer’s latest creation, including a lucious collaboration with Paul Brenning and capped off by Jonathan Kaspar’s trademark rework, is a tantalizing suite designed to echo in our timeless halls.

The journey begins with Shiffer & Paul Brenning’s opening manifesto, “All I’ve Been”, a track that unfurls with both confidence and caution, as if self-aware from its very first beat. Mechanical whirs and fractured frames give way to low-end swells that drive forward with an unrelenting undertow. Brenning’s unmistakable vocals start to break a warmer ground as they linger in the liminal space between today and tomorrow before slowly growing in gravitas. Suddenly, the piece begins to contort, drawing spellbinding figures as arresting arrangements and melodic flourishes allow for decompression. Imbued with a tantalizing breakdown that amplifies their exquisite use of negative space, “All I’ve Been” is a fascinating and intimate take that feels as expansive as it ever could.

The follow-up, “Urban Legends”, takes a bolder stance. Anchored by heavy drum programming that carves its place with deliberate force, the track is haunted by ghostlike vocal fragments that lend an unsettling, cinematic edge.. Out from the left field, Shiffer deploys undulating synthetics that intertwine with consummate ease as they glide under the spotlight. An alluring act that treads unhurried and unconcerned, “Urban Legends” operates at its own pace, far from the demands of a world lost in the metropolitan hustle, allowing us to bask in a lore of things that might or might never have happened.

Closing the release, ICONYC calls upon Cologne innovator Jonathan Kaspar, who delivers a singular reinterpretation of “All I’ve Been”. Immersed in iridescent textures, Kaspar layers lush, swelling pads over pulsing low frequencies, their ebb and flow punctured by flashes of distortion that spark like electric currents.. Reflective and equally immersive, Jonathan Kaspar’s take on “All I’ve Been” pushes the collaboration into a brash new terrain while retaining the spiritual ethos intact

The Outside Agency is here with two new additions to the label to further expand the
definition of crossbreed. Welcome to Koarse and Supire. You're part of the problem now!

Developed over three years across residencies, tours, and periods of deep listening, “Your Whistle Tells of Landscape” finds Australian sound artist Alexandra Spence continuing her investigations into the perceptual entanglements of sound, place, memory, and imagination. Like much of the artist’s work, it unfolds at the liminal edge between the real and the imagined — between what is heard and what is remembered.

Composed from a constellation of materials gathered across sites and seasons — snowscapes recorded in Vancouver, insect choruses from a Sydney backyard, ceramic fragments unearthed while mudlarking with tinysound — it renders an intimate cartography of experience: one shaped equally by ecological resonance and internal drift. Each piece traces a kind of imaginary geography, where sonic ephemera become proxies for topography, weather, or myth.

The album is informed by time spent at EMS (Stockholm) and MESS (Melbourne), where Spence deepened her engagement with microtonality and tuned feedback systems, and by dialogues with sympathetic artists such as Tashi Wada and Patrick Farmer. Sound materials were sourced from Serge Modular systems, a custom lyre built by Tim Wall, amplified objects, handmade electronics, and Spence’s own field recordings captured within rockpools, beneath sand, and among a flock of sheep in the French Pyrenees. On “Magenta,” a collaboration with Delphine Dora, the domestic and mythic intertwine, as layers of voice, environmental recordings, and Halldorophone feedback drift in and out of one another like overlapping weather systems.

Despite its diverse material palette, the album resists spectacle or accumulation. Instead, it moves with a quiet sense of continuity and a rich interiority — less a sequence of compositions than a set of situated attunements. Across its duration, sounds seem to murmur, glint, or hover right at the edge of presence, invoking a listening practice that is as much about orientation as it is about reception. These are pieces not simply about place, but of place — etched with the grains of time, vibration, and breath.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Reconfiguring the notion of bridge building on a multitude of terms, it feels fitting that the tenth and final installment of Die Schachtel’s Decay Music series, Sergio Armaroli and David Toop’s “And I Entered Into Sleep”, was co-created by an artist whose work featured in the first suite of LPs issued by Brian Eno’s Obscure Records in 1975, the groundwork toward which Decay Music’s own efforts nod. Since that auspicious debut, “New and Rediscovered Musical Instruments” — his split with Max Eastley — David Toop has been regarded as a pioneer in British experimental and improvised music: a sonic voyager who has continuously challenged the sources and materiality of sound through rigorously thoughtful performances, a vast catalog of recordings, and a steady flow of highly influential texts. Be it as a member of Alterations, his group breaking group with Peter Cusack, Terry Day, and Steve Beresford that ran between 1977 to 1986, or through is noteworthy work with artists like Rie Nakajima, Thurston Moore, Paul Burwell, Rhodri Davies, Lee Patterson, Ryuichi Sakamoto, Akio Suzuki, Elaine Mitchener, and numerous others, collaboration has always played a central role within Toop’s singular practice, but few can claim the sprawling sense of beauty and intimacy that’s achieved by “And I Entered Into Sleep”, his first recorded outing with Sergio Armaroli.

A composer, percussionist, vibraphonist, and multidisciplinary artist, Armaroli has been issuing radical and forward-thinking musical gestures for decades, working as one of Italy’s most noteworthy interpreters of composer’s like Giacinto Scelsi, John Cage, Franco Evangelisti, Giancarlo Schiaffini, and Walter Branchi, as both a solo performer and member of the highly regarded Rib Trio, as well as forging a singular practice as a composer, intertwining his efforts as a painter, concrete percussionist, fragmentary poet and sound artist, within a total art, rooted “within the language of jazz and improvisation” as an “extension of the concept of art”. Like Toop, Armaroli’s career has been populated by many collaborators, notably with Riccardo Sinigaglia, Alvin Curran, and Walter Prati, among others, setting the stage for a remarkable meeting between the pair.

Featuring Armaroli on vibraphone and prepared vibraphone and Toop on electronics, “And I Entered Into Sleep” is “a sonic journey, a Proustian suggestion à la Recherche, into the unconscious between electronic and acoustic sounds”. Using a bell that sounds at the beginning of Proust’s “À la Recherché du Temps Perdu”, which reappears more than 3,000 pages later — signaling a transition of phases, as well an auditory trigger of memory — as a departure point, as an association to the percussive vibraphone pulses that thread the album’s two sides, the pair weave a striking interior world of immersive psychological depth. Feeling almost subaquatic at times, like captured glimpses of rumbling, shadowy ecosystems lost within murky ambiences, before washing ashore in a series of pointillistic, highly detailed alien landscapes of the mind, each artist’s markedly different sound-sources, and treatment of the subsequent material elements, dance in abstract grace, incorporating subtle nods to minimalism, free jazz, and musique concrète within its seamless total form of sparse texture and tone.

Easily one of the most striking and memorable releases by either artist to appear in recent years, Sergio Armaroli and David Toop’s “And I Entered Into Sleep” traverses uncharted realms at the borders of literary reference, sound art, ambience and abstraction through delicately musical sounds, revealing new depths at every turn. Issued as the tenth and final album in Die Schachtel’s Decay Music series, highlighting inspired contemporary experimental efforts of the ambient, ethereal, and emotively abstract.

Steve Hauschildt returns after 6 years with a new album titled Aeropsia. After a transcontinental relocation from the US to Tbilisi, Georgia, the electronic composer emerges from a personal and global transformation to explore themes of perceptual distortion, disconnection, and renewal.

Aeropsia (which roughly translates as “seeing the air”) refers to a visual phenomenon in which objects appear to float or shimmer, often due to changes in pressure, perception, atmospheric shifts or neurological disturbance. This becomes a metaphor for the liminality that informs the record: blurry visions, dreamlike displacements, and the fragile membrane separating what is seen from what is felt.

In the years since his last solo release, Hauschildt’s world has been marked by relocation and a growing sense of global turbulence. These experiences became the raw material for a work that navigates institutional haze and uncertainty itself. The result is music that employs decay as method, structure as entropy, and mutation as expression.

While Aeropsia remains subjective in its vision, Hauschildt invited two previous collaborators to expand the album’s gravitational pull. Cellist Lia Kohl, who previously performed on Nonlin, returns and brings a tactile warmth to select tracks, while guitarist Michael Vallera threads spectral harmonics into the mix. The album’s electronic foundation and its tactile elements meet in a state of luminous suspension to navigate the shifting in physical and psychological terrain.

At the end of 2024, Elder looked back on an unusual period in their now near 20-year career. A few years ago, the band had dropped their most progressive record yet, 2022"s highly acclaimed Innate Passage, followed by the usual heavy touring schedule (including a 24-show arena tour supporting Tool). The band had then taken a year long sabbatical to recharge their creative batteries, which instead of rest culminated in the release of multiple albums by side-projects. Convening in winter of that year for a 2 week songwriting session at Big Snuff Studio in Berlin, the band set a goal of knocking off the rust and putting together some ideas for the next record. While combing through an archive of old sketches, they hit upon an outline of a song from somewhere between 2020"s Omens and its successor Innate Passage, abandoned then for reasons now inscrutable. Picking up the pieces with fresh ears, Elder fleshed out a new version of the track, which is firmly rooted between those two albums but with an identity of its own. Building on the song"s ending, a swirling tower of synthesizers, chugging guitars and almost tribal drumming was constructed in the course of lengthy in-studio jams. Liminality/Dream State Return can be seen as a bridge between eras in Elder"s creative universe; one foot is planted in the highly melodic and sometimes alternative/grunge tinged riffing of Omens, the other in Innate Passage"s dreamy prog soundscapes, and its head in the clouds looking toward Elder"s upcoming LP 7. The vinyl version comes as a one-sided, 180 gr. translucent LP with etching on the B side (including download).

Offthesky (Jason Corder) is experimental-ambient multimedia artist based in Denver, CO. He has been producing music, video art, audio software, and the occasional interactive sound sculpture, for over 20 years. He teaches private courses on generative music and occasionally lectures on various sound design topics at Denver University. He currently is the Audio Director at the Denver based videogame studio Dire Wolf. Over the years, he has worked with labels such as Home Normal, 12k's term, Facture, LAAPS, IIKKI and more. Over the years he has performed at Mutek, Decibel, Communikey and other festivals, sharing the bill with likeminded artists Pole, Matmos, William Basinski, and more.

12th Isle ready the first of many new releases after a break over the first half of 2025. Radx is a new collaborative endeavour between label artists X.Y.R. and Vlad Dobrovolski (½ of S A D) exploring a shared appreciation of vintage 80s & 90s synthesisers, ambient-adjacent furniture music and, er, dragons. Referencing the electronica of artists such as Kim Cascone/Hydrosphere as well as the sci-fi literature of Michael Swanwick where dragons act as living machines, the pair combine various synthesis models, pedals and samplers for an album that sits somewhere firmly between each of their solo works. From the cathedralic ascension of ‘Heavenly Shepherd of Silence’ to the back-room bean bag swirls of ‘Ovgo’s Etheric Mind’ and dense, jungle-like humidity of ‘Liminal Space’, the more ambient-leaning end of the catalogue is built upon further.

»Downriver« unfolds like a dérive through obscured geographies, echoing the psychogeographic journeys of Iain Sinclair. Just as Sinclair’s writing blurs the tangible and the imagined, Sequences, the project of Antwerp-based artist Niels Geybels, drifts into spaces where memory and environment overlap. Single-take recordings stretch into slowly mutating drones, fractured textures, and ghostlike voices that seem to seep in from unseen thresholds. The atmosphere is one of decayed grandeur, evoking disused monuments, neglected warehouses, and corners of the landscape where centuries of history accumulate beneath the surface.

This is music shaped by wandering without a map: a patchwork of distortion, hidden detail, and abrupt rupture. The sense of time loosens, the everyday unravels, and new contours emerge out of drift and delay. Downriver situates itself between sound art and environmental music, drawing listeners into liminal zones where place becomes porous, haunted by what has been and what might yet be.

Written and recorded by Niels Geybels Mastered by Jacob Calland

On Friday, September 5 Liv Andrea Hauge Trio releases its third album, Dognville, on Norwegian label Hubro. The record explores the feeling of being "dognvill" a Norwegian term describing the sensation of being out of sync with time and reality, like during jet lag or insomnia. The music inhabits this liminal space between structure and freedom, consciousness and dream. Half of the compositions were written while pianist and composer Liv Andrea Hauge was bedridden with a high fever in a semi lucid, dreamlike state. The other half emerged ahead of the trio's European tour in autumn 2024.The result is a fusion of fresh inspiration and songs shaped and seasoned through live performance a record rooted in both spontaneity and maturation.Since forming in 2022, the trio Liv Andrea Hauge (piano), Georgia Wartel Collins (bass) and August Glännestrand (drums) has become a compelling voice in modern acoustic jazz. With extensive touring across Norway and internationally, and two previous album releases, the band has cultivated a strong, intuitive musical chemistry.Dognvillereflects this presenting a sound that is more serious and contemplative than earlier works, echoing the uncertainty and introspection of our times.