Buscar:line idle

Los Angeles rock trio Dogstar is back with All In Now, the band’s fourth studio album and the follow-up to 2023’s Somewhere Between the Power Lines and Palm Trees. Produced by Nick Launay (IDLES, Amyl and the Sniffers, Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds), All In Now marks a new era for Dogstar, with layered guitar riffs and heavy bass inspired by their time out on the road. Includes black LP in a gatefold jacket with a printed insert.

Obscura Pulse I marks the start of a new label series delving into contemporary pulsating sounds of underground wave-infused music. Selected tracks of previously unreleased material or available on vinyl for the first time.

The first edition moves through the realms of European wave music, with support from German EBM act XTR Human, Dutch/Romanian synthpunk act Badtime, Italian darkwave/post-punk duo Schonwald, German Age O.P.F., Dutch darkwave queen Camy Huot, Austrian minimal synth duo Mitra Mitra, Dutch minimal wave act Raderkraft, Belarusian goth/coldwave act Tout Debord, Dutch synthwave wizard Adam Tristar and Croatian minimal synth maestro Neon Lies.

Explore the shadow frequencies of the underground pulse: from the hard hitting warehouse EBM energy in opener “Sledgehammer” by XTR Human (remixed by Dancing Plague). The analog machinery mastered by Raderkraft in future minimal wave classic “Virtual Reality Check” or Adam Tristar exploring cinematic synth landscapes balancing between retro futurism and dark club momentum in “Goosebumps”. On the flipside, Schonwald’s “Starless” bolts menacingly on gritty drones, metallic drum programming and rumbling bass lines. Mitra Mitra crafts suspense in the elegantly synth-driven soundscape “The Lure of the Naïve” and Neon Lies closes the circle with moody synthwave melancholy in “Heavens”

Als Dublins Gurriers 2024 ihr Debütalbum Come And See veröffentlichten, bewiesen sie eindrucksvoll, dass sie eine der drängendsten und unüberhörbaren neuen Stimmen der boomenden irischen Punk-Szene sind. Seitdem haben sie sich mit knochenerschütternden, moshpit-tauglichen Live-Shows einen stetig wachsenden Ruf erarbeitet. Come And See stellte dabei auch ihre lyrische Stärke und ihren neugierigen, gesellschaftskritischen Blick in den Vordergrund – mit Songs über digitale Verlorenheit und die ganz realen Schrecken der modernen Welt.
Das grandiose zweite Album des Quintetts heißt Nobody's Coming To Save You – könnte aber ebenso gut den Untertitel „härter, besser, schneller, stärker" tragen. Es wird am 25. September auf Play It Again Sam veröffentlicht.

Aufgenommen in Donegals Attica Studios und den Holy Mountain Studios in London, produziert von Mark Bowen (Idles) und Loren Humphrey (Geese, Cameron Winter), engineered von Chris Fullard (Idles, Sunn O)))) und gemixt vom weltbekannten John Congleton (St. Vincent, Modest Mouse, Swans) – allein das Team, das sich für LP2 zusammengefunden hat, spricht Bände. Gurriers nehmen alles, was sie von Anfang an großartig gemacht hat – die musikalische Chemie, den klugen, analytischen Blick auf die Welt – und schrauben es konsequent auf das nächste Level.

Von der vibrierenden Spannung der ersten Takte des Titeltracks, die sich in einem kakophonischen, kathartischen Finale entlädt, bis zum Ende: Nobody's Coming To Save You überführt den Geist des schwitzenden Kellerclubs in Stadiondimensionen. Das Album ist nicht nur laut – es ist dynamisch. „Shades" schickt industrielle, kantige Gitarrensplitter in einen brachial-rohen Hardcore-Chorus; „Drones" ist ein druckvolles, langsames Aufbäumen mit einem Drop, der jeden Moshpit zum Kollabieren bringt. „Pins" zeigt eine lässigere, melodischere Seite – irgendwo zwischen Grunge und Trip-Hop –, während „Party Lines" pure, unersättliche Dance-Punk-Ekstase ist. Wer sich fragt, ob die Band ihr Ziel erreicht hat, das Album „wie eine Ohrfeige" wirken zu lassen: Ja, die sitzt.

Mit Nobody's Coming To Save You haben Gurriers ihre Ambitionen in neue Höhen getrieben – und liefern dabei auf ganzer Linie.

Als Dublins Gurriers 2024 ihr Debütalbum Come And See veröffentlichten, bewiesen sie eindrucksvoll, dass sie eine der drängendsten und unüberhörbaren neuen Stimmen der boomenden irischen Punk-Szene sind. Seitdem haben sie sich mit knochenerschütternden, moshpit-tauglichen Live-Shows einen stetig wachsenden Ruf erarbeitet. Come And See stellte dabei auch ihre lyrische Stärke und ihren neugierigen, gesellschaftskritischen Blick in den Vordergrund – mit Songs über digitale Verlorenheit und die ganz realen Schrecken der modernen Welt.
Das grandiose zweite Album des Quintetts heißt Nobody's Coming To Save You – könnte aber ebenso gut den Untertitel „härter, besser, schneller, stärker" tragen. Es wird am 25. September auf Play It Again Sam veröffentlicht.

Aufgenommen in Donegals Attica Studios und den Holy Mountain Studios in London, produziert von Mark Bowen (Idles) und Loren Humphrey (Geese, Cameron Winter), engineered von Chris Fullard (Idles, Sunn O)))) und gemixt vom weltbekannten John Congleton (St. Vincent, Modest Mouse, Swans) – allein das Team, das sich für LP2 zusammengefunden hat, spricht Bände. Gurriers nehmen alles, was sie von Anfang an großartig gemacht hat – die musikalische Chemie, den klugen, analytischen Blick auf die Welt – und schrauben es konsequent auf das nächste Level.

Von der vibrierenden Spannung der ersten Takte des Titeltracks, die sich in einem kakophonischen, kathartischen Finale entlädt, bis zum Ende: Nobody's Coming To Save You überführt den Geist des schwitzenden Kellerclubs in Stadiondimensionen. Das Album ist nicht nur laut – es ist dynamisch. „Shades" schickt industrielle, kantige Gitarrensplitter in einen brachial-rohen Hardcore-Chorus; „Drones" ist ein druckvolles, langsames Aufbäumen mit einem Drop, der jeden Moshpit zum Kollabieren bringt. „Pins" zeigt eine lässigere, melodischere Seite – irgendwo zwischen Grunge und Trip-Hop –, während „Party Lines" pure, unersättliche Dance-Punk-Ekstase ist. Wer sich fragt, ob die Band ihr Ziel erreicht hat, das Album „wie eine Ohrfeige" wirken zu lassen: Ja, die sitzt.

Mit Nobody's Coming To Save You haben Gurriers ihre Ambitionen in neue Höhen getrieben – und liefern dabei auf ganzer Linie.

Emotional Response is delighted to present the debut EP of Aaron Coyes (Peaking Lights / Leisure Connection) new project, as Exotic Gardens. An additional music universe as his love of dub expands to include new wave, goth and acid psychedelics across 5 catchy, bass heavy songs.

While the continuing journey of his duo band, Peaking Lights, with his wife Indra, earns plaudits and fans alike, his early years as a one-man lysergic music polymath that saw his youth in punk and hardcore bands, expanded during a mid-90s burst of “living in San Francisco” creative expansion, devouring music, genres, and influences for life.

Started as a sub-project to Peaking Lights and his personal dub excursions, Exotic Gardens pollinates a rich tapestry. Recording through the pandemic in their then home in Amsterdam, before being archived, assembled, and completed following the move back ‘home’ to the West Coast, California.

Re-embracing that love of his inner goth, the analogue warmth is all there, now featuring Coyes’ dub-languidity of stripped drum machines, widescreen bass, haunting guitar lines and an almost idle voice to peddle true, raw songs.

Combined, the pop layer of hooks and tight grooves instantly catch you. Opener and EP title, Drugs & TV is the perfect anthem for the Exotic Gardens sound, before the “dubwave” of Last Of The Light and Tonite shimmer that yearning melancholy of youth.

In the almost 10 minute dub house opus Organize Your Movement an appreciation and understanding of the psychoactive properties of the Roland 303 and 909, they also hark to a love of Industrial / Noise bands, a lineage from the death pulse of his cult project Rahdunes through to Sound Design and Sound System culture to the pop-dub psychedelics with Indra, now melded here to include a dark assault, whispering invocations and pulsing pads.

To close, Turn It On is a roaming multi-genre evocation, an exotic end from this constant troubadour, cassette junkie, record dealer, sound system builder, always looking to get back on the road, to live to roam.

“I turn it on, you lose your mind’.

It's time for a new compilation in our house and we have some good music to fill it up. This collection of talent is going to be served in two flavours, the physical one a four cut vinyl EP featuring previously only digital tracks and the second one a ten track selection from our back catalogue featuring some of the best producers in our family.

Asier Morillas ( A4 ) is probably one of the most original sci fi specialists out there and he's been part of our sound since his first steps into production. His track Kynosoura is a perfect example of hi tech jazz.

David Reina is also a science fiction specialist, also featured with a full length work in our catalogue, our pick for this collection is Autoscopy, a mental and complex sonic voyage into the best outer space techno.

From Mod 21 we have selected one of his most played tools, Escalation of Violence, the perfect hypnotic drill to boost your mixes properly.

Vertical Spectrum brings us to hyperspace in BALN006 combining a distorted groove with floating alien bleeps in a sci-fi techno masterpiece.

This four cuts will be pressed on wax, let's talk about the next eight:

From his Idle Ep we have chosen Temudo's Spiritual Song, a merciless floor weapon heavily tested on the best clubs and big stages out there.

Next comes BiiBii by Null Forms approaching a more abstract and sci-fi terrain, maintaining the danceable pulse and well-managed distortion. The result is more mental and synthetic. A kind of controlled chaos.

Axial Rotation from Translate starts with a fast paced groove, heavily bass fuelled with a continuous synth line moving across the basement. All sound elements are constantly mutating and evolving although the mood is linear and loopy.

Eight cut comes from Dutch veteran Dimi Angelis, the third from his
A Journal of Impossible Things EP from 2023. The hypnotic bleep penetrates your mind while the dirty sound of the old drum machine sets the pace for your feet. Special mention to the occasional resonant sweep that appears from time to time creating the required tension.

On the ninth, Ruman's Lizard from Where The Ring Ends LP, mental and hypnotic, perfect for adding tension to a mix, again heavily tested on the best dancefloors extensively.

Closing the release, CONCEPTUAL with Red Sun a magnificent closing anthem, no more words needed here.

With this collection you get a tiny snapshot of the sonic palette of Warm Up Recordings sound. Check our full catalogue to get the proper picture.

Das Rock-Trio Dogstar aus Los Angeles meldet sich mit „All In Now“ zurück, dem vierten Studioalbum der Band und Nachfolger von „Somewhere Between the Power Lines and Palm Trees“ aus dem Jahr 2023. Produziert von Nick Launay (IDLES, Amyl and the Sniffers, Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds), läutet „All In Now“ eine neue Ära für Dogstar ein, mit vielschichtigen Gitarrenriffs und schweren Bässen, inspiriert von ihrer Zeit auf Tour.

“So, how did this band even happen?” That’s the question most often asked of Winged Wheel, a creatively and geographically scattered collective who have somehow congregated to make a noise that’s unexpected but undeniable. The band includes Whitney Johnson (Matchess, Circuit des Yeux), Cory Plump (Spray Paint, co-owner of the dream venue Tubby’s), Matthew J. Rolin (solo guitar wizard and half of the Powers/Rolin Duo), Steve Shelley (Sonic Youth), Lonnie Slack, and Fred Thomas (Idle Ray, Tyvek), each player living in a different city and bringing their own unique element to the group’s chain reactions. Early long distance file-trading between a few members yielded 2022’s No Island, a debut album that was accidentally really good. Good enough for the band to expand their membership and meet in person for the sessions that became 2024’s Big Hotel, a surgically-assembled murk of high energy kosmische rock with jammed-out tendencies.

Fast forward just a little and all of a sudden the band that started out as a passing idea has completed multiple tours, become a taper’s dream with sets that drift through structure and improvisation, and ridden the momentum to places unforeseen on their third album, Desert So Green. After a run of shows across the Midwest in the spring of 2025, the group settled into a studio on the outskirts of Chicago to track their next record. Though the full lineup had only been solidified for a little over a year at this point, time together on stage led to a quickly-expanding sound and a unified vision of always going somewhere new. To this end, Winged Wheel abandoned the play-now-sort-it-out-later approach of Big Hotel and instead spent hours refining flashes of inspiration into coherent songs.

“New York’s Harlem River Drive is a dividing line, a highway where the rich zip past the poor,” says singer Jimmy Norman. Eddie Palmieri’s Latin-funk band of the same name tackled these hard truths, playing prisons and speaking to the common man. Ultimately, Norman and Palmieri made a powerful socio-political statement that continues to resonate to this day." Pablo Yglesias/Wax Poetics. When initially released in 1971, many critics panned Eddie Palmieri’s album Harlem River Drive. Those critics were wrong. Regardless of critical opinion, the release was not the crossover success Palmieri and Roulette Records had hoped for, at least in the immediate. Over the years the release has developed a following among listeners, DJs, and aficionados of rare-grooves. The record may have been recorded towards the end of the Latin soul era, yet it features that genre's wonderful mix of Puerto Rican soul, Spanish Harlem Latin, and New York funk. Palmieri worked with an incredibly talented crew of Latin and R&B session musicians to create this quintessential New York vibe, a synthesis of funk and Afro-Cuban sounds. Contributors include Victor Venegas from Mongo Santamaria’s band, Palmieri’s brother Charlie, an accomplished musician in his own right, Bruce Fowler who went on to join Frank Zappa’s band, Dick Meza who went on to great things with Tito Puente, Ray Barretto and Celia Cruz, as well as Andy Gonzalez who’s pedigree includes recordings with Barretto, Johnny Pacheco, Willie Colon and even Chico O’Farrill. Also appearing Randy Brecker and one of the all-time greatest of the greats Bernard Purdy. An over-arching theme of Harlem River Drive is the thought that, as Palmieri puts it “The U.S. is richest country, all this immense wealth, side by side with the most intense poverty, racial prejudice; how is that possible?” A question that’s perhaps more even more relevant today than it was in 1971. A question that can be further explored with Get On Down’s reissue of this seminal recording.

A young doctor on the verge of greatness finds his career and life shattered after choosing to treat two children rather than the town mayor. The deaths of one of the children are inexplicable. What if he had saved a monster?

Monster, the manga created by Naoki Urasawa, is an acclaimed psychological thriller that has been a huge critical and commercial success. The complex and gripping story, which follows the moral choices of a surgeon confronted with a serial killer he has saved, has attracted a wide international audience. Monster has won several awards and is regarded as one of Urasawa's major works, affirming her place as a master of suspense in the world of manga.

Kuniaki Haishima is a Japanese composer best known for creating the soundtrack to the anime Monster. In addition to his contribution to Monster, Haishima has also composed music for TV series (Terra Formars and S-CRY-ed) and films (Tokyo Tribe and Helter Skelter).

'Quiet Pieces' initiates Abul Mogard’s personal imprint Soft Echoes with a definitive self-portrait of calm, contemplative, and discreet inner landscapes made audible. It is the first solo album on vinyl in four years. RIYL Alessandro Cortini, William Basinski, The Caretaker.

While sifting through archived material left idle from earlier projects, a chance encounter with a late uncle’s trove of beloved 78rpm classical and opera records prompted the reworking and completion of what would eventually become the album. Spinning dusty records at 33 and 45rpm, Abul Mogard recombined their enduring spectres with unfinished sketches from his archive. The resulting soundscape blurs distinctions between his memories and those of another, exquisitely short-circuiting the senses with its waking, dream-like lucidity.

This was a process I hadn’t explored in my earlier works. I began sampling brief moments from these records, altering them with studio effects and playing them at slower speeds. In many cases, I wasn’t entirely sure how the original music sounded. These fragments, once further processed, became a source of inspiration for my new compositions. Over time, I realised that the old pieces from the archive and the new material derived from the samples naturally complemented each other.”

The resulting pieces hover over a threshold, a liminal space that harmonises the old and older material. Voluminous waves of quiet and loud undulate between consonance and dissonance, conjuring imagery of a decaying grandeur that humanity’s decadence has surrendered to the elements. Abul Mogard’s seemingly abandoned yet vast landscapes are nevertheless intimate with timbral frissons of red-lined distortion. Elusive, yet as tangible as sea spray or smog, they affect the olfactory senses with a rarified, synesthetic quality that modestly engages one’s emotional register – a hypnotic, distinguishing feature long hailed as one of the hallmarks of his work. A fidelity to memory and dream recall is sensitively probed in the journey from the stately symphonic stasis of 'Following a dream' to the almost industrial, untethered brutality evoked by a looming silhouette that’s never fully visible in 'Constantly slipping away', culminating in the foreboding coda of 'Like a bird'. Those pieces appear to shield the album’s sentimental core, where the tempestuous play of light and shadow of 'In a studded procession' escalates to breathtaking, panoramic climax, while 'Through whispers' evokes an out-of-body-like experience encountered with visceral poignancy.

Looking back, Mogard notes an unexpected influence: “I realise being inspired by Phill Niblock, whose work I had barely known at the time but explored after his passing in 2024. His album 'Boston Tenor Index' changed the way I approached dissonance. It encouraged me to push my sound further, to the edge of a space where I began to feel uncomfortable.”

The album artwork, created by longtime collaborator Marja de Sanctis, features a photograph taken at the Temple of Jupiter Anxur, an archaeological site overlooking the Mediterranean Sea. Captured with an iPhone, the image traces the residual presence of construction techniques and architectural forms of the Romans, where material history is transcribed through contemporary tools. The convergence of ancient and modern technology aims to reverberate the site’s lasting spiritual presence – an echo persisting in what is now perceived as a quiet, emptied space. The spiral gestures towards infinity and light. Past and present dissolve into one another, reflecting 'Quiet Pieces' meditation on sound, memory, and time.

RIYL Alessandro Cortini, William Basinski, The Caretaker

Illusive Bristolian producer Claude Cooper returns with ‘Friendly Sounds Vol 1’; part psychedelic trip, part romping beat tape, part party. The album was inspired by the vinyl discoveries made from Cooper’s months of digging and cataloguing the bulging inventory of Bedminster’s Friendly Records record shop. Cooper fed these myriad captured sounds through the studio and then, blurring the lines between sampling and performance, arranged and embellished them with keyboards, drum machines, bass guitar and more, also co-opting BEAK> bassist Billy Fuller and esteemed composer Ben Salisbury to contribute.

With most of the tracks in and out within 90 seconds, the album is best enjoyed as a continuous course. Play side A, play the B, then flip it back and listen all over again. Stand out moments include tremulous cut ‘n’ paste jam ‘Jackie’, the moody string-laden ‘Rainbow Eternity’, funky sitar workout ‘Nerd Nork’, and atmospheric closer ‘Take Flight’. Sharing a similarly broad and experimental sound palette as the likes The Avalanches, Madlib, The Go Team, and Edan; ‘Friendly Sounds Vol 1’ is the soundtrack to a wild joyride down South Bristol’s North Street, foot on the gas, hand on the horn, LPs spilling from the boot.

Cooper’s irrepressible debut album ‘Myriad Sounds' (Jan ‘22) caught the attention of the UK's press and radio alike. Mojo's four star review described it as “Bristol’s beat scene backdrops late night jams”, Uncut enjoyed the "rugged psych-funk romp" and Louder than War declared "it’s vital and vibrant and exactly what we need to kick start the year”. Bonus round 'More Myriad Sounds' (Apr ‘23) added Brooklyn vocalist Brain Fog to the melange with a bounty of pyretic vocal performances. DJ Mag called it “A fierce, kaleidoscopic trip” while Bandcamp Daily said “This album of cross-genre influences is as likely to get it included in any number of best-of columns, with the theme of serious fun as their common element”. Called a "mysterious Bristol breaks scientist" by Lauren Laverne, BBC radio DJs including Cerys Matthews, Gideon Coe, Huw Stephens, Jamie Cullum, Stuart Maconie, and Tom Ravenscroft have rinsed Cooper’s tracks, with Huey Morgan inviting Cooper to contribute a Block Party Mix for his show.



‘Stay A While’, the first showing of Cooper’s new shop sampling stunners, was released on 7” in January ‘24. Lush string flourishes sliced with 6Ts girl-group vocals and rollicking piano chords resulted in a dreamy, end of night, lights up anthem in-the-making that The Arts Desk called “A horn-fired, beatsy, chop-around that recalls The Avalanches”. Releasing the album is Friendly Records, the best little record shop in Bristol and now a burgeoning record label. Opened by Tom Friend on North Street in 2016, it’s gone on to become a hub of the local musical community. As well as Claude Cooper, the label has released LPs by Alison Cotton, Floating World Pictures, Christian Madden & The Enemy Chorus, Nick Craft, as well as handling the War Child series of 7”s with BEAK>, Idles, J Dilla, PJ Harvey, Portishead, and Sleaford Mods + Hot Chip.



Claude Cooper will DJ at the one-day Friendly Festival on 10th May in aid of War Child, which will feature Sleaford Mods, Katy J Pearson, The 45s, Zalizo and DJ sets by Ishmael Ensemble, Heavenly Jukebox and Friendly Records DJs.

2025 Repress

Berlin-based Frenchman Alexkid lands on Rawax with ‘Wake Up’, a fantastic new album that explores acid from many different angles.
As an early protagonist in the 90s Parisian electronic music culture, Alexkid has been paving his own path for over two decades. Obsessed with drum-machines since his teens, he is a skilled producer and sound engineer who imbues his productions with real soul and warmth, even releasing his own lauded Ableton Live Plugins. He is a Rex club resident, released albums on Laurent Garnier's legendary F Communications and has also appeared on labels like FUSE London, Rekids, Ovum, Freerange, and
Underground Quality. With this new album he proves once again why he is so well respected by presenting eight acid laced beauties on the infamous Rawax, following appearances from iO (Mulen), Shonky, Enzo Siragusa, Julian Perez, and Diego Krause. 'Kick It' is a bristling, in your face and pricking acid banger with restless 303 lines spraying about above
punchy kicks, the mood switches up for the headier and dubbed out, but still acid laced, 'Le Manteau d'Argent', and 'Tribute' then takes you down a deeper, more shadowy and sparse late night path with a warm, bubbly acid bassline leading the way. Sublime atmospherics characterise the spacious, deeply cosmic 'Revolutions' which has contorted drums and bass making you move, followed by the physical force of acid head wrecker 'No Hiss'. The
excellent 'Idle' strips things back to a propulsive drum groove and a molten sub pattern, 'Yussuf Is In Control' is led by the sort of prying, freaky lead synth that is perfect for the afters, 'Your Love Is Fading' is a masterful track of suspensory synths and soulful vocal sounds all fused to a brightly airy house groove making this another fantastically accomplished album from one of the best in the game.



Support by:

Delano Smith, Seth Troxler, Radio Slave, Dan Curtin, Butane, Ian Pooley, Spacetravel, Satoshie Tomiie, Posthuman, Diego Krause, Samuel Deep, Sonja Moonear, Traumer, Akufen, Sakro, Italojohnson, Enzo Siragusa, Laurent Garnier, Dirian Paic, Ryan Crosson, Reiss, Roger Gerresen, Sebo K, Vinyl Speed Adjust, Franck Roger, Mihai Popoviciu, Fabe, Jamie Jones, Raresh

Kneading dough is tricky – you should know how it’s supposed to feel. If you try too hard you could make it worse. It’s a beautiful practice – creation with a gentle touch, to work at something so it can be left alone. “If it’s too drawn out it’s awful. It’s easy to give too much.” Dance in the mirror. Contemplate your veiny hands. Who do they remind you of?

You begin by mixing flour and water. “What happens when your people die? Why’d they move the rock to the other side of Ulster Park?” Eliza Niemi asks two seemingly unrelated questions in a rising melody with guitar accompaniment, like fingers playing spider up to the nape of your neck. Gentle pressure. Strands of gluten form to bind the mix. A new question lingers in the binding. When she admits “but I don’t know how to tell if I’m feeling it or not,” that question surfaces through the text. It is reiterated throughout the album. When I’m working with dough I think the same thing to myself.

On Progress Bakery, her second album as a solo artist, Eliza knows to leave some questions alone – to let juxtaposition and tension be the proof. It doesn’t have to be hard. The feelings and revelations they provoke rise in the heat. The smell is sweet. Crispy on the outside and soft all the way through. She playfully slip-slides through words and sounds and images, delighting in surprise, skimming ideas like stones cast across clear water, touching down briefly with uncommon grace.

The question provoked between those opening lines resurfaces in the strands between songs – “Do U FM” is fully formed and beautifully layered, while “Novelist Sad Face” is a short, acapella rendering of gentle curiosity. What is holding these ideas together? Some songs demand more, seem to carry a whole load – eventually the skipping stone will halt to sink and resume its idle duty – while others drift in and out of focus, the way thoughts and dreams become interwoven before the mind is sunk into true sleep.

Music and words don’t always have to interact. Where she decides to keep them apart gives a new contour to where and how she puts them together. The kind of thing you’re supposed to take for granted with songs and their singers comes alive in Eliza’s hands – the little miracle of mixing, kneading, stretching, and stopping.

So often on Progress Bakery, Eliza teases out truth and meaning by asking questions. “Do I wanna be crying?” “Do you want me good or do you want me bad?” “Do I need an eye test?” “I’m writing songs in my head while you’re going over stuff with me — is that cruel??” In “Pocky” Eliza ends with a question that feels to me like the actual biography, succinct and revealing:

I don’t wanna be made to see
I just wanna ask “what’s that?”

Grace that ought to be rare, but in its care and precision is offered humbly, with great generosity, and without announcing itself. Eliza’s simple, miraculous music is given further form and shape by a group of collaborators – invaluable guest musicians Jeremy Ray, Evan Cartwright, Steven McPhail, Kenny Boothby, Ed Squires, Carolina Chauffe, Dorothea Paas, Louie Short, and Avalon Tassonyi. Together with Louie Short, who recorded, mixed, and produced the album along with Jeremy Ray and Lukas Cheung, Eliza has cultivated a richness in sound and texture that prods and provokes the ticklish ear. Barely audible guitar tinkering, a brief lo-fi field recording of trumpets, the harmonic clicking of a looped synthesizer, a flourish of reeds, a child’s conversation, each uncanny sound perfectly placed, rippling out under a soft breeze.

Lay in bed alone at night and ask aloud to the stillness,

“What were you doing at the Albuquerque Airport?
What were you doing there??”

And hear your question answered by a dream of swelling, undulating cellos. Try to grasp at the melody and structure. It’s not an answer (if there could be one), but it moves deeper, closer to the weird layer of fleeting moments and disconnected images, barely perceptible at its core. Wait for the dream reel to click into place.

Eliza took me for a ride in Nicole (her beloved Dodge Grand Caravan) and told me she’d been thinking of the album as an embodiment of transition – and I think every transition, known or unknown, carries the weight of new meaning, skittering off the surface tension of life as you know it, creating ripples, sometimes bouncing off and sometimes breaking through. There is a trick you can use to tell if a dough is glutinous enough. You’re supposed to stretch it out as thin as you can without breaking it and hold it up to the light. If you can see through, even if it renders the world murky and uncertain, you should leave it alone. I love this trick. It’s one that Eliza seems to know intuitively: work gently and ask questions and don’t always expect answers, and when you can, take a glimpse at something new, and then leave.

Kneading dough is tricky – you should know how it’s supposed to feel. If you try too hard you could make it worse. It’s a beautiful practice – creation with a gentle touch, to work at something so it can be left alone. “If it’s too drawn out it’s awful. It’s easy to give too much.” Dance in the mirror. Contemplate your veiny hands. Who do they remind you of?

You begin by mixing flour and water. “What happens when your people die? Why’d they move the rock to the other side of Ulster Park?” Eliza Niemi asks two seemingly unrelated questions in a rising melody with guitar accompaniment, like fingers playing spider up to the nape of your neck. Gentle pressure. Strands of gluten form to bind the mix. A new question lingers in the binding. When she admits “but I don’t know how to tell if I’m feeling it or not,” that question surfaces through the text. It is reiterated throughout the album. When I’m working with dough I think the same thing to myself.

On Progress Bakery, her second album as a solo artist, Eliza knows to leave some questions alone – to let juxtaposition and tension be the proof. It doesn’t have to be hard. The feelings and revelations they provoke rise in the heat. The smell is sweet. Crispy on the outside and soft all the way through. She playfully slip-slides through words and sounds and images, delighting in surprise, skimming ideas like stones cast across clear water, touching down briefly with uncommon grace.

The question provoked between those opening lines resurfaces in the strands between songs – “Do U FM” is fully formed and beautifully layered, while “Novelist Sad Face” is a short, acapella rendering of gentle curiosity. What is holding these ideas together? Some songs demand more, seem to carry a whole load – eventually the skipping stone will halt to sink and resume its idle duty – while others drift in and out of focus, the way thoughts and dreams become interwoven before the mind is sunk into true sleep.

Music and words don’t always have to interact. Where she decides to keep them apart gives a new contour to where and how she puts them together. The kind of thing you’re supposed to take for granted with songs and their singers comes alive in Eliza’s hands – the little miracle of mixing, kneading, stretching, and stopping.

So often on Progress Bakery, Eliza teases out truth and meaning by asking questions. “Do I wanna be crying?” “Do you want me good or do you want me bad?” “Do I need an eye test?” “I’m writing songs in my head while you’re going over stuff with me — is that cruel??” In “Pocky” Eliza ends with a question that feels to me like the actual biography, succinct and revealing:

I don’t wanna be made to see
I just wanna ask “what’s that?”

Grace that ought to be rare, but in its care and precision is offered humbly, with great generosity, and without announcing itself. Eliza’s simple, miraculous music is given further form and shape by a group of collaborators – invaluable guest musicians Jeremy Ray, Evan Cartwright, Steven McPhail, Kenny Boothby, Ed Squires, Carolina Chauffe, Dorothea Paas, Louie Short, and Avalon Tassonyi. Together with Louie Short, who recorded, mixed, and produced the album along with Jeremy Ray and Lukas Cheung, Eliza has cultivated a richness in sound and texture that prods and provokes the ticklish ear. Barely audible guitar tinkering, a brief lo-fi field recording of trumpets, the harmonic clicking of a looped synthesizer, a flourish of reeds, a child’s conversation, each uncanny sound perfectly placed, rippling out under a soft breeze.

Lay in bed alone at night and ask aloud to the stillness,

“What were you doing at the Albuquerque Airport?
What were you doing there??”

And hear your question answered by a dream of swelling, undulating cellos. Try to grasp at the melody and structure. It’s not an answer (if there could be one), but it moves deeper, closer to the weird layer of fleeting moments and disconnected images, barely perceptible at its core. Wait for the dream reel to click into place.

Eliza took me for a ride in Nicole (her beloved Dodge Grand Caravan) and told me she’d been thinking of the album as an embodiment of transition – and I think every transition, known or unknown, carries the weight of new meaning, skittering off the surface tension of life as you know it, creating ripples, sometimes bouncing off and sometimes breaking through. There is a trick you can use to tell if a dough is glutinous enough. You’re supposed to stretch it out as thin as you can without breaking it and hold it up to the light. If you can see through, even if it renders the world murky and uncertain, you should leave it alone. I love this trick. It’s one that Eliza seems to know intuitively: work gently and ask questions and don’t always expect answers, and when you can, take a glimpse at something new, and then leave.

Kneading dough is tricky – you should know how it’s supposed to feel. If you try too hard you could make it worse. It’s a beautiful practice – creation with a gentle touch, to work at something so it can be left alone. “If it’s too drawn out it’s awful. It’s easy to give too much.” Dance in the mirror. Contemplate your veiny hands. Who do they remind you of?

You begin by mixing flour and water. “What happens when your people die? Why’d they move the rock to the other side of Ulster Park?” Eliza Niemi asks two seemingly unrelated questions in a rising melody with guitar accompaniment, like fingers playing spider up to the nape of your neck. Gentle pressure. Strands of gluten form to bind the mix. A new question lingers in the binding. When she admits “but I don’t know how to tell if I’m feeling it or not,” that question surfaces through the text. It is reiterated throughout the album. When I’m working with dough I think the same thing to myself.

On Progress Bakery, her second album as a solo artist, Eliza knows to leave some questions alone – to let juxtaposition and tension be the proof. It doesn’t have to be hard. The feelings and revelations they provoke rise in the heat. The smell is sweet. Crispy on the outside and soft all the way through. She playfully slip-slides through words and sounds and images, delighting in surprise, skimming ideas like stones cast across clear water, touching down briefly with uncommon grace.

The question provoked between those opening lines resurfaces in the strands between songs – “Do U FM” is fully formed and beautifully layered, while “Novelist Sad Face” is a short, acapella rendering of gentle curiosity. What is holding these ideas together? Some songs demand more, seem to carry a whole load – eventually the skipping stone will halt to sink and resume its idle duty – while others drift in and out of focus, the way thoughts and dreams become interwoven before the mind is sunk into true sleep.

Music and words don’t always have to interact. Where she decides to keep them apart gives a new contour to where and how she puts them together. The kind of thing you’re supposed to take for granted with songs and their singers comes alive in Eliza’s hands – the little miracle of mixing, kneading, stretching, and stopping.

So often on Progress Bakery, Eliza teases out truth and meaning by asking questions. “Do I wanna be crying?” “Do you want me good or do you want me bad?” “Do I need an eye test?” “I’m writing songs in my head while you’re going over stuff with me — is that cruel??” In “Pocky” Eliza ends with a question that feels to me like the actual biography, succinct and revealing:

I don’t wanna be made to see
I just wanna ask “what’s that?”

Grace that ought to be rare, but in its care and precision is offered humbly, with great generosity, and without announcing itself. Eliza’s simple, miraculous music is given further form and shape by a group of collaborators – invaluable guest musicians Jeremy Ray, Evan Cartwright, Steven McPhail, Kenny Boothby, Ed Squires, Carolina Chauffe, Dorothea Paas, Louie Short, and Avalon Tassonyi. Together with Louie Short, who recorded, mixed, and produced the album along with Jeremy Ray and Lukas Cheung, Eliza has cultivated a richness in sound and texture that prods and provokes the ticklish ear. Barely audible guitar tinkering, a brief lo-fi field recording of trumpets, the harmonic clicking of a looped synthesizer, a flourish of reeds, a child’s conversation, each uncanny sound perfectly placed, rippling out under a soft breeze.

Lay in bed alone at night and ask aloud to the stillness,

“What were you doing at the Albuquerque Airport?
What were you doing there??”

And hear your question answered by a dream of swelling, undulating cellos. Try to grasp at the melody and structure. It’s not an answer (if there could be one), but it moves deeper, closer to the weird layer of fleeting moments and disconnected images, barely perceptible at its core. Wait for the dream reel to click into place.

Eliza took me for a ride in Nicole (her beloved Dodge Grand Caravan) and told me she’d been thinking of the album as an embodiment of transition – and I think every transition, known or unknown, carries the weight of new meaning, skittering off the surface tension of life as you know it, creating ripples, sometimes bouncing off and sometimes breaking through. There is a trick you can use to tell if a dough is glutinous enough. You’re supposed to stretch it out as thin as you can without breaking it and hold it up to the light. If you can see through, even if it renders the world murky and uncertain, you should leave it alone. I love this trick. It’s one that Eliza seems to know intuitively: work gently and ask questions and don’t always expect answers, and when you can, take a glimpse at something new, and then leave.

Behind Pumuky are brothers Jaír and Noé Ramírez, originally from Icod de los Vinos, a small town in northern Tenerife, in the Canary Islands.

For two decades, despite a tumultuous journey with multiple lineup changes and the challenges of island life, they have managed to build an extensive and highly personal discography with labels such as Jabalina, WeAreWolves, as well as Keroxen. In 2025, they release a new chapter in their story: their 5th album titled No sueltes lo Efímero (Don't Let Go of the Ephemeral).

It has been 10 years since they released a full-length album, though they were never idle during this time. In this interim, they released an EP titled Castillo Interior (Keroxen 2020), which Bandcamp described as "In intricately sculpted songs that are utterly hypnotising, the Ramírez brothers explore the border of dreams & reality" Bandcamp / New & Notable Oct 19, 2020. The EP was later remixed by artists like Xiu Xiu and Dntel (Jimmy Tamborello of The Postal Service). During this period, they also collaborated with Elinor Almenara of VVV Trippin'you on the single Metahackeo (Keroxen 2022), part of the new wave of dark music that emerged after the pandemic years.

Pumuky also have an extensive live history, having played in Europe and Latin America, with appearances at major festivals such as Primavera Sound, WOMAD, and the Mexican NRMAL.

No sueltes lo efímero will be released on February 28 through Keroxen, a collective that, in addition to being a platform and label for the best of the Canary Islands' underground scene, organises a small, unique music festival inside a giant abandoned kerosene tank in Santa Cruz de Tenerife—an event that has already garnered praise worldwide.

The album was recorded at La Mina Studios (Granada, Spain) with Raúl Pérez, one of the most respected producers in the Spanish music scene, and then mastered by Rafal Anton Irisarri, a key figure in the ambient world who also appreciates the power of guitars.

In No sueltes lo efímero, Pumuky return to their signature sound, although they have never completely abandoned it: an abrasive slowcore with controlled crescendos and raw, unfiltered lyrics, sometimes bordering on the intensity of dirty shoegaze, at other times leaning into dream-pop passages, but always with the unique stamp that has characterised them from the start.

A rare breed, difficult to categorise, Pumuky write songs as if performing escape tricks.

'If We Land On Water' is the first album from Spiral Wrack, a duo of Ali Wade (Frequency Domain) and Ralph Cumbers (Bass Clef / Myriad Myriads). Although the two have been good friends for decades and appeared on some of the same labels, this album marks their first musical collaboration, following a one-off appearance on Frequency Domain's 2023 compilation, 'Partials III'. Previous solo work from Ralph and Ali has appeared onPunch Drunk, Idle Hands, Pan, Trilogy Tapes and Werk Discs.

Here they present a full-length work of woozy, heavily processed guitar and synth duets, where beachcombed melodies wash up on unknown shores and strange flowers bloom at the high water line. Robin Guthrie meets Laurie Spiegel with Neptune at the controls. Rum and reverb, if you will.

Described by Steve Lamacq as “so elegant and haunted, in an almost gothic way, but with that bass momentum of proper post-punk”. This is the debut album from bloody/bath. 10 tracks inspired by the unsettling sounds of horror soundtracks, early 2000’s indie rock guitar lines and mental illness, ‘In An Empty Space, I’m Screaming’ is as anthemic and cathartic as it is eerie. Produced by Matt Peel (Yard Act, WH Lung, Dream Wife, Divorce, Eagulls), the record is dissonant post-punk filtered through a myriad of sonic palettes. Lead single ‘Suffering’ evokes catchy indie rock while opener ‘Strangling of the Dog’ finds itself firmly in the harsher edges of the genre. The album also features ‘Idle Hands’ which was championed by Iggy Pop and played on BBC Radio 6Music by Iggy, Steve Lamacq and Lauren Laverne. This limited edition vinyl on translucent red with black smoke marble is limited to only 100 distro copies. Link to Soundcloud tracks - ‘Strangling of the Dog’, ‘Heather’ and ‘Unholy Cross II’

A/B Side Effect, Black & Gold, limited to 200 copies. More than 4 years after "Sculpture Of Violence," GIVER from Cologne, Germany, announce their third album "The Future Holds Nothing But Confrontation" for September 20, 2024, on End Hits Records. In recent years, GIVER have not only refined their hardcore sound to be more brutal and atmospheric with elements of metal and post-punk, but thematically, it's clear that their new album serves as an even more drastic political manifesto. Capitalism, culture wars, the climate crisis, and their societal implications and consequences are central themes on "The Future Holds Nothing But Confrontation." GIVER critique the prevailing neoliberalism and its ongoing agitation for the uncompromising pursuit of happiness and satisfaction. The band explains: "What neoliberalism has established is a lonely place. Its driving force is the individualized pursuit of constant fulfillment, altering the way we interact with each other. Whatever we do to achieve satisfaction, there's always a lingering sense of something missing. Happiness and contentment are never the goal; they've been replaced by profit margins and excess. These are endless and extremely unevenly distributed. Anger arises in this vacuum. With this album, we want to remind that it's the economic conditions and inequalities that should be the target of our collective frustration. They create depression, despair, and a downward spiral. Being anti-fascists is not enough; we must also be anti-capitalists." This anger is also reflected musically in the furious 11 new tracks. Filled with powerful guitar riffs and sometimes bilingual lyrics, some of the songs also introduce a new, deep style of spoken word for GIVER, making the eventual eruptions that much more impactful. With the release of their third album, GIVER venture into fresh and melodic territory, integrating elements of post-punk, black metal, and hardcore into a sound that sits somewhere between bands like Oathbreaker, Converge, or Chelsea Wolfe. Although "The Future Holds Nothing But Confrontation" builds on a foundation of biting, powerful metal, it also incorporates dark vocal lines that could be found on a Fontaines D.C. or IDLES record. "The Future Holds Nothing But Confrontation" was produced by Lewis Johns (Rolo Tomassi, Employed To Serve, Funeral For A Friend).