Buscar:lines

Im Zuge der Louisville-via-Chicago-Post-Rock-Explosion des späten Millenniums kam Mercury Program mit einem Vibraphon in der Hand in einer amorphen ,Szene" im Umbruch an. Von The Vapors of Gasoline - ihrem 2000er Album für Tiger Style - war keineswegs ein Einbruch, sondern zehn intellektuelle und dissonante Jams, die verschämt die nie gestellte Frage beantworteten: Was wäre, wenn New Age und Posthardcore ein Haus in der Vorstadt kaufen würden? Diese Remaster-Version zum 25-jährigen Jubiläum offenbart das Genie eines übersehenen Triumphs in erstaunlich lebendigen Details und bietet atmosphärische Farbe für ehemalige Reptilien- und Periodensystem-Fans gleichermaßen.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Los Angeles-based duo LUCKYANDLOVE are back with their third album, evoking a new sense of art school originality, following their critically acclaimed “Transitions” album. The duo defines 'Humaura' as the atmosphere that emanates from the feelings of the human spirit void of technological control.

Blending raw analog synth sounds with driving punctuated percussion and punchy analogue bass, LUCKYANDLOVE’s music is shaped by the embers of Siouxsie and The Banshees and Bauhaus, resonant spectres carry over from synth-laden galaxies, where the needle hits the vinyl groove and Doc Martens marched to basement dance floors.

LUCKYANDLOVE is the raw sonic experiment of Loren Luck and April Love, whose music transcends genres. Their live analogue synth beats, Moog instrumentation and beautiful, harmonic vocals trigger an immediate download of fuzzy sunset synthgaze, blue-black neon darkwave, and tigerprint electro punk.

“‘Humaura’ is an action-packed, cinematic, entertaining and soulful electro-dance record full of fresh air and wide-open roads where there is more freedom to party, to be in nature, and to be our wild selves,” says April Love.

Fusing together pulsating molten kicks, abrasive fuzz-laden analog synths and sensual vocals, the anti-tech angst anthem ‘I Am Human’ is a call to take back our lives, underlining the need to reconnect with being Human before it’s too late. ‘Lonely at Night’ is a "last call" bar track about the desperate, frantic desire for human connection, building from a haunting sense of isolation to a fast-paced, climactic reunion with a crush. Elsewhere, this album features enchanting lyrics rooted in emotions from melancholy and sorrowful glom to a state of blissful trance.

This album was recorded, mixed and mastered for digital release by Grammy award-winning engineer Be Hussey (Modern English, Twin Tribes, Boy Harsher) at Balboa Studio and Catwater for the digital music, and mastered for vinyl and lathe-cut by Grammy-nominated engineer Nicholas Townsend (Weezer, Grimes) at Townsend Mastering.

Their 'Lucky + Love' and 'Transitions' albums having earning them a global fan following, US and UK tours, multiple tracks featured in the indie hit film 'Tiger Within' (Ed Asner's final performance), and wide acclaim, noting their “soulful, synthesized sound" (LA Weekly), “spectral synths and dazed-dreamy feeling” (Big Takeover Magazine), not to mention their "uncompromising and inventive sonic experiment” (The Spill Magazine) and sound that “oscillates between the asphalt synth streets & interstellar outer realms” (Impose Magazine).

LUCKYANDLOVE’s visceral, dark electro-pop appeal continues to stretch through time and space. Praise for the album’s lead track ‘I am Human’ have poured in from over a dozen countries. ‘Humaura’ promises to cement the duo’s reputation as one of America’s most vivacious electronic / synthwave acts, positioning them firmly within the lineage of artists like Phantogram, Ladytron, The Soft Moon, Twin Tribes and ACTORS.


‘Humaura’ Press:

“...In contrast to its synth-laden darkwave and electropunk sound, the song presents lyrical themes of championing the human spirit and emotions over the technological void" ~ Regen Magazine

“Moog textures and distorted synth tones weaving together like electric currents. An industrial edge that carries a dreamy undercurrent, nodding to darkwave, punk rock and post-punk influences without sounding dated" ~ Myth of Rock

"Every second and note is a meld of lava-esque incitement and beguiling melodic fixation and a breath to unpredictability and stirring fuzz hued uniqueness… a thrilling encounter" ~ The Ringmaster Review

"Layers fall into place and give rise to soaring vocals. The beautiful timbre of her voice sits over the landscapes of sound and reveal poignant lines that hit home." ~ Sound Read Six

Punk pioneer/Eater main-man, Andy Blade's 7th solo album and follow up to 2024's critically acclaimed & heavily rotated, Sparks bros endorsed "Being Alive Is Fun". It is imbued with the usual left-of-centre Blade-ism's & themes: star maps, UFO's & a slightly twisted nod to tragic 70's heroine Karen Carpenter. You get what you deserve with Blade, and with Tiny Specks you are rewarded with a rich code to decipher at your leisure. Most of all, however, it is all about the quality of his songwriting. Opening track 'Karen Is The Drummer' (featuring Blade's regular singing collaborator - PseudoPomp's Katerina Sharkova) seems unsettlingly self-explanatory, but all does not seem well in the Carpenter M.O.R world - 'It's just her & her brother & her folks indifference to that girl'. Occasional Dinosaur Jr vocalist Tiffany Anders gives 'I'm Not Myself' a poppy but eerie nuance. PollyPikPocketz's Myura Amara pops up on the short but very sweet 'About That'. Matilda Scotland, Quick Romance's uber-cool punky-chanteuse - adds her Gen Z aura to the summery 'I Like It When You're Happy'. Former Generation X guitarist Bob 'Derwood' Andrews, with whom Blade has worked with consistently of late, once again features heavily on 'Tiny Specks'_ Like with Katerina Sharkova's voice, Derwood guitar lines interweave with Blade's honeyed vocal as though they made for each other. 'This Place' is another key track, capturing the claustrophobic-genocidal mood of what has been taking place in Gaza/Palestine for over two years now, and counting. 'This is not so much a protest song as it is the noise in my head'. If John Lydon is the Widow Twanky of Punk, and Billy Idol, its Elvis, then Andy Blade must surely be the Sinatra of Punk.

Reflecting years of listening from behind the drum kit with Animal Collective, Boredoms, Dan Deacon, and Lifted arrives Low Air, the first solo LP from Jeremy Hyman.

The record is collected from home studio sessions, taken on the road, and sequenced through reflections of the live experience. Building on previous dance-floor-tuned outputs for Max D’s Future Times label, Low Air moves into a broader compositional arena: pared-down rhythms guide a wash of understated harmony, and compositions surface from a stream of purling noise. There were no standard operations across the music, but one key to the sound is the doubling and tripling of playback speed to fit musical passages into old sampling equipment. This process opened up a new line of inquiry into fidelity and pitch that can be heard throughout the LP.

Shadows fold into colour. Memory dissolves into noise. You brush up against the walls of the mind. Touch is soft as breath. On ‘B side’, Areliz Ramos follows her work’s current into its more “fantastic and elusive… and even romantic” side; a place where fantasy loosens the bolts of reality and memory, and emotion is alluringly refracted into musical collages and loose-strung compositions. Across the album, voices drift in and out of an intimate space, while pensive guitar lines stumble and bloom like scribbled unresolved notes in a diary. Beneath its icy, often chaotic surface, ‘B side’ radiates a deep sense of joy and fragility. Ramos sketches out an entire world by free association, collaging notions and echoing quiet thoughts into deeply honest snapshots of daydreams.

Areliz Ramos is a Peruvian producer living in London, recognized for an evocative palette weaving lo-fi and downtempo threads into dreamlike, abstract emo narratives. While her debut ‘Frío’ (Where to Now?), orbited around homesickness and estrangement, ‘B side’ embraces imperfection, incorporating her guitar (named "Frank"), pedals, synthesizers, and her own vocal textures for the first time, privileging emotional immediacy over technical precision. The creative process behind this album reflects a conscious decision to let go, loosen control, let intuition lead, and engage her own ‘B’ side.

Rather than constructing a safe haven from hardship, Ramos offers a cracked mirror, staring right at it, embracing that vulnerability. The gentle and beautiful ‘B side’ explores fleeting satisfaction, or the elusive comfort sitting just out of sight.

Many Amerindian cultures share the belief that the future lies behind us, while the past is what we face ahead. This challenge to Western chronology is, however, rooted in common sense: the open possibilities of what is to come are, in theory, what we cannot see—the uncertain—whereas the events that have already happened unfold before our eyes and are available for us to learn from.



This second album by Chilean producer, live performer, and DJ Valesuchi could be described as an experiment with time through music. Some years after relocating to Rio de Janeiro, she released Tragicomic LP (2019) on MAMBA rec—a label founded by the boundary-pushing Brazilian party Mamba Negra—and the self-released EP Cascada (2024). In both works, we can already appreciate her musical imprint: rhythmic and emotional timbral lines—wet, filtered, mathematical,

devotional, multilingual, fantastic, and unreal. However, in Futuro Cercano (Discos Nutabe, 2025), we can hear a leap: the sedimentation of her lived experiences in electronic communities across Latin America, her search for a universal yet personal language to convey emotion and new spiritual meaning, finds in this release a consistency and spontaneity that is rarely heard these days.



In a time when all cultural expression is not only expected to be taggable, but is also increasingly produced from templates that precondition our perception—favoring categorization and connections to works or scenes of the past—the tracks on this album are generically unclassifiable. They represent an openness to experiment without prejudice with electronic instruments and rhythms that are asancestral as they are futuristic. They publicly reveal an intimacy born from the compositional process, a bond formed through the encounter—sometimes tense, sometimes harmonious—between human will and that of the machines themselves. Or, as Valesuchi put it, "cyborging my friendship with the machine and becoming a tempest." Tempest as an eruption of the unknown into the present, the result of opening oneself to a nearly meditative state to uncover the deepest feelings through improvisation on cybernetic feedback and loops. And in that improvisation, to develop “técnicas para estirar o medir el tiempo”

“techniques to stretch or measure time” as she sings in 22, the album’s first track. “Connecting knowledges” as a portal to access that future so near it lies behind us, and to anticipate it as intuition and prospection.



That’s why Futuro Cercano is more than just electronic music: it is a technological ritual, an immersion into the secrets that machines hold as artifacts of human and non-human knowledge, as mysterious objects that allow us to connect with our own otherness—the personal alien hiding beneath the skin that opens us up to uncertainty as possibility rather than catastrophe.

Leading Danish contemporary jazz label April Records is proud to present Well, actually..., the third album from Polish acoustic jazz quartet O.N.E. Grounded in the spirit of democracy andcollective improvisation, the album offers a tightly woven set of original compositions that blur the lines between modal jazz lyricism and the raw energy of free improvisation.The band name O.N.E. is a clever double entendre: in Polish, "one" (pronounced oh-neh) means "they" in the feminine plural - an apt nod to the all-female lineup. In English, of course, it signifies unity. Both meanings reflect the band"s egalitarian, leaderless approach and cohesive group sound.Almost three years after the recording of their previous release Entoloma(Audio Cave), the group reunited in December 2024 at Studio S4 in Warsaw to record a fresh set of ten compositions. Spread over two sides, the album captures the continued evolution of a band that thrives on interaction, trust, and shared purpose - even in a society fractured by post-pandemic socio-economic uncertainty and political ambiguity. Featuring contributions from all four members - pianist Kateryna Ziabliuk, saxophonist Monia Muc, bassist Kamila Drabek, and drummer Patrycja Wybranczyk - the recordreflects their commitment to artistic democracy. Each voice is given space, yet the music always feels greater than the sum of its parts. Even on the miniature solo track solo form, the other three players remain present, supportive, and responsive. From Ziabliuk"s percussive piano textures and dreamlike voicings on tracks like Osloand Berio, to Muc"s expressive, woody tone on alto and baritone sax, each piece explores dynamic interplay and shifting emotional landscapes. Drabek"s resonant, grounded bass - by turns lyrical and propulsive - provides a central thread, while Wybranczyk"s drumming fizzes with precision and imagination, as heard on Cipherand the angular closer Sneaking Around.Together, these four distinctive creative forces have developed a shared language built on mutual respect, long-term collaboration, and deep listening. Their concerts across Europe (including Jazzahead, B-Jazz, Umea, and the Edinburgh Jazz & Blues Festival) haveaffirmed their standing as a boundary-pushing group with something new to say.








[f] [SOLO FORM]

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

2025 Repress
After numerous releases in diverse labels last year, the deutsch couple 'not even noticed' display his more raver face with a clear influence from the 90s scene.

A work focused on the club full of nostalgia through acid lines, leading to hypnotic yet heavy scenarios where they show two differentiate sides but with a common flow of sinuosity and elation.

Love International launch new vinyl-focused imprint with a 12" from Adam Curtain including a remix from Mr. Ho.

Revered party crew Love International expand their enterprise, channeling the buzz from another stellar year into a freshly minted sub-label: the 'Love International Floor Series'.

As the name suggestions, the series zeroes in on the dance floor, giving some form and shape to misty memories forged across protracted sessions at Barbarellas, The Olive Grove and The Beach in Tisno.

In to inaugurate the project is London based Adam Curtain - an artist focused on flexing the boundaries of UK club music who has been gathering steam as a nifty selector and a talented producer. A familiar face on both sides of the booth at Lion & Lamb, Fabric, Gottwood and of course - Love International - Adam nails the brief in delivering a record that is sharp, direct and eminently playable.

Musically - the tunes bridge old and new, nestling in that sweet spot between Breaks, Electro, UKG, Acid and Minimal. Stepped grooves, crisp snares, angular synths and oozey bass lines all unify to render a sound that's simultaneously psychotropic and crystal clear.

The cherry on the cake comes as a remix from the venerated Mr. Ho of Klasse Wrecks fame. Often paired with Luca Lozano, Mr. Ho is a master of organising chaos and here he does exactly that - rousing his machines and churning the original into a sludgy, fractal brain scrambler.

STANDFIRST Titanic, the project spearheaded by Mabe Fratti and Hector Tosta (aka I. la Católica), return with a sumptuous and life-affirming new album.



In her sensational 1929 biography Tiger Woman, dancer and socialite Betty May claimed her ‘coster’s eye’ meant she liked to wear as many colours as possible. “Colours to me are like children to a loving mother. Each is my favourite, yet I can never bring myself to deny the others by preferring one.” May’s bold and inclusive strategy is one that manages to transfer itself, almost a century later, to Hagen, the new record by Titanic.


Many will know Titanic as the Mexico City-based brainchild of cellist and singer Mabe Fratti and multiinstrumentalist Hector Tosta who is now operating under the pseudonym, I. la Católica, (taken, rather unusually, from the name of the street the pair live on). With Hagen, and their previous release, Vidrio, (2023), the pair are creating a distinctive signature sound in modern alternative pop music. Nobody else sounds quite like them. Both records have an open hearted nature and simple, winning melodies that play off against a taste for drama, spectacular orchestration and a feeling of otherworldly mystery. Hagen is the more ambitious, sometimes more mystical effort. From the opening handclaps of ‘Lágrima del Sol’, (a wonderfully uptempo playground chant translating as a tear from the sun but, surely, not referencing the brand of pineapple wine?), the record dances its way through various mid-to-late-eighties inspirations, lush and widescreen passages of melancholy and vertiginous contrasts.


Mystery is often found in the simple but slightly odd song titles. English translations of various track titles give, ‘you swallowed the gum’, ‘leak’, ‘a tear from the sun’, ‘raising the trophy’ ‘digging dimensions’, ‘the owner’, ‘the decapitated hen’ and ‘the trap is exposed’. All denote striking images, metaphysical hints and emotional cues or simple, even childlike actions. Though Fratti and Tosta don’t reveal its provenance, the album’s title could even be a crafty play on words: the listener would be forgiven in thinking the moments of brash contrast and eyebrow raising theatricalism in the music constitute a musical nod to German punk chanteuse, Nina Hagen.


On Hagen, singer and cellist Mabe Fratti once again displays her brilliant knack of speaking to us directly. There is never the suspicion of her playing to the gallery, and the directness of many of the lyrics don’t allow it. Parallel to this, Fratti has an almost magical ability to give Hector Tosta’s melodies, and her and Tosta’s lyrics ones imbued with an insight and meaning that feels otherworldly. Tosta admitted it was “pretty wild to hear Mabe take the interpretations to a different place” and the listener can pick up on the delight Fratti takes in (literally) adding a voice to the many narratives.


Two examples can be shown here: ‘Gotera’ (Leak) uses harsh slashes of cello and tough, gunfire-like guitars and drums and multiple vocal lines that could be acting as a Greek chorus. They play off brilliantly against Fratti’s soft, slightly baleful vocal take that delivers lyrics such as: ‘nobody knows where the leak is / but I know where it is / they fight in front of the door and / nobody can go in’. With ‘La Gallina Degollada’ the somewhat blithe melody melody line, sung with what could be sarcastic brio by Fratti, plays against an itchting rhythm and rasping guitar part. The punch comes when you see that the song is about a chicken that has been decapitated and read lyrics such as: ‘I already saw it, it moved, the decapitated chicken’ / ‘could it be that I'm broken’ and ‘Two people hurt each other by thinking that they no longer agree’/ ‘Hours pass and the chicken represents what scares me’.


There may be death and fights to deal with, but there is also a quality of chirpy self-reliance about Hagen that is a key part of its nature. Like Betty May and her colourful outfits, Hagen’s sound often revels in its own sense of richness. Throughout, the record delivers vaulting string sections or glutinous guitar squeals that could, like the powerful, driving ‘Escarbo Dimensiones’ (Digging Dimensions) have come directly from a glossy 1980s TV series. Fratti sees this “glam sound” developed by Tosta on the aforementioned track and ‘Te Tragaste el Chicle’ (You Swallowed The Gum), as moments that were truly “revealing” for the album as a whole during its making.


What else? The thud and thump of ‘La Trampa Sale’ (The Trap is Exposed), and its sudden change of tempo and mood betrays a monstrously ambitious piece of music, the players almost greedily creating the sounds. Other moments are heart wrenching: ‘Libra’ ends on a poppy chord switch that cleverly ramps up the emotion inherent in the music’s notation. You could almost imagine a teenager in a bedroom forty years ago, rewinding the track over and over on a small, cheap cassette player, unable to get enough of that sugarsweet switch. Elsewhere, Oneohtrix Point Never adds stardust and an unearthly sense of space on the changeable, slightly moody meditation, ‘Pájaro de Fuego’ (Firebird). The record ends with ‘Alzando el Trofeo’ (Lifting the Trophy), a track that could soundtrack a state wedding, what with its beautiful cascading piano parts, a sugary vocal and short triumphal guitar riffs that add a rich patina to the overall sound. Fratti: “When I doubled those vocals on ‘Alzando el Trofeo’ I felt there was an epiphany happening, right at that moment.”


Making a good record is a team game. Tosta and Fratti recall seeing Randall from Circular Ruin Studios in NYC “tweak the drums in ‘Libra’ to make that amazing effect of the gated reverb”, or the shaping of ‘Gotera’, “when (recording engineer) Nate Salon added some synths to the track.” Drummer Eli Keszler, “an amazing and versatile player” had the songs down pat in a couple of days” and, according to Tosta, Oneohtrix Point Never “just came to one of the sessions and we hung out, and after all the recordings he and Nate were together in some studio and out of nowhere they sent us some beautiful tracks for ‘Pájaro de Fuego’! Fratti concurs. “He decided that he wanted to record because he was listening to the record (Nate works closely with him) and he really liked it! It was a total honour, indeed!”


Bedazzled by the playing, the skyscraping ambition in the arrangements and the giddy moments of contrast thrown up by Hagen, we could allow ourselves a brief moment of flippancy and state that Titanic’s new record is Yacht Rock meets Aeschylus, full-on. It’s also worth speculating that, in this hyper-sensitive, intemperate age, Titanic’s music has the power, however fleetingly, to heal hurts. Hagen is a brilliant showcase for a fresh and enriching form of pop music: displaying a magpie eye for what glints and plundering what has gone before.


Like Vidrio, Hagen was partially and additionally recorded at Fratti and Tosta’s house, aka Tinho Studios in Mexico City, as well as Golden Girl Studios & Circular Ruin Studios in New York City. Mixing was done by Santiago Parra in Pedro y el Lobo Studios, Mexico City and mastered by Rafael Anton Irisarri at Black Knoll Studios, New York City. The recording engineer was Nate Salon.


Hagen featured Mabe Fratti on cello, vocals & backing vocals, I. la Católica on guitar, keyboards, prepared piano, bass & backing vocals, drums by Eli Keszler and synths in ‘Pájaro de Fuego’ from Daniel Lopatin and Nate Salon.


All compositions on Hagen are written by I. la Católica, except ‘Escarbo Dimensiones’ & ‘Pájaro de Fuego’, which were composed by I. la Católica and Mabe Fratti. The record was produced by I. la Católica and co-produced by Nate Salon & Mabe Fratti. And all lyrics are by I. la Católica except ‘Escarbo Dimensiones’, ‘Gotera’, ‘Gallina degollada’ & ‘Pájaro de Fuego’, which were written by I. la Católica & Mabe Fratti.

STANDFIRST Titanic, the project spearheaded by Mabe Fratti and Hector Tosta (aka I. la Católica), return with a sumptuous and life-affirming new album.



In her sensational 1929 biography Tiger Woman, dancer and socialite Betty May claimed her ‘coster’s eye’ meant she liked to wear as many colours as possible. “Colours to me are like children to a loving mother. Each is my favourite, yet I can never bring myself to deny the others by preferring one.” May’s bold and inclusive strategy is one that manages to transfer itself, almost a century later, to Hagen, the new record by Titanic.


Many will know Titanic as the Mexico City-based brainchild of cellist and singer Mabe Fratti and multiinstrumentalist Hector Tosta who is now operating under the pseudonym, I. la Católica, (taken, rather unusually, from the name of the street the pair live on). With Hagen, and their previous release, Vidrio, (2023), the pair are creating a distinctive signature sound in modern alternative pop music. Nobody else sounds quite like them. Both records have an open hearted nature and simple, winning melodies that play off against a taste for drama, spectacular orchestration and a feeling of otherworldly mystery. Hagen is the more ambitious, sometimes more mystical effort. From the opening handclaps of ‘Lágrima del Sol’, (a wonderfully uptempo playground chant translating as a tear from the sun but, surely, not referencing the brand of pineapple wine?), the record dances its way through various mid-to-late-eighties inspirations, lush and widescreen passages of melancholy and vertiginous contrasts.


Mystery is often found in the simple but slightly odd song titles. English translations of various track titles give, ‘you swallowed the gum’, ‘leak’, ‘a tear from the sun’, ‘raising the trophy’ ‘digging dimensions’, ‘the owner’, ‘the decapitated hen’ and ‘the trap is exposed’. All denote striking images, metaphysical hints and emotional cues or simple, even childlike actions. Though Fratti and Tosta don’t reveal its provenance, the album’s title could even be a crafty play on words: the listener would be forgiven in thinking the moments of brash contrast and eyebrow raising theatricalism in the music constitute a musical nod to German punk chanteuse, Nina Hagen.


On Hagen, singer and cellist Mabe Fratti once again displays her brilliant knack of speaking to us directly. There is never the suspicion of her playing to the gallery, and the directness of many of the lyrics don’t allow it. Parallel to this, Fratti has an almost magical ability to give Hector Tosta’s melodies, and her and Tosta’s lyrics ones imbued with an insight and meaning that feels otherworldly. Tosta admitted it was “pretty wild to hear Mabe take the interpretations to a different place” and the listener can pick up on the delight Fratti takes in (literally) adding a voice to the many narratives.


Two examples can be shown here: ‘Gotera’ (Leak) uses harsh slashes of cello and tough, gunfire-like guitars and drums and multiple vocal lines that could be acting as a Greek chorus. They play off brilliantly against Fratti’s soft, slightly baleful vocal take that delivers lyrics such as: ‘nobody knows where the leak is / but I know where it is / they fight in front of the door and / nobody can go in’. With ‘La Gallina Degollada’ the somewhat blithe melody melody line, sung with what could be sarcastic brio by Fratti, plays against an itchting rhythm and rasping guitar part. The punch comes when you see that the song is about a chicken that has been decapitated and read lyrics such as: ‘I already saw it, it moved, the decapitated chicken’ / ‘could it be that I'm broken’ and ‘Two people hurt each other by thinking that they no longer agree’/ ‘Hours pass and the chicken represents what scares me’.


There may be death and fights to deal with, but there is also a quality of chirpy self-reliance about Hagen that is a key part of its nature. Like Betty May and her colourful outfits, Hagen’s sound often revels in its own sense of richness. Throughout, the record delivers vaulting string sections or glutinous guitar squeals that could, like the powerful, driving ‘Escarbo Dimensiones’ (Digging Dimensions) have come directly from a glossy 1980s TV series. Fratti sees this “glam sound” developed by Tosta on the aforementioned track and ‘Te Tragaste el Chicle’ (You Swallowed The Gum), as moments that were truly “revealing” for the album as a whole during its making.


What else? The thud and thump of ‘La Trampa Sale’ (The Trap is Exposed), and its sudden change of tempo and mood betrays a monstrously ambitious piece of music, the players almost greedily creating the sounds. Other moments are heart wrenching: ‘Libra’ ends on a poppy chord switch that cleverly ramps up the emotion inherent in the music’s notation. You could almost imagine a teenager in a bedroom forty years ago, rewinding the track over and over on a small, cheap cassette player, unable to get enough of that sugarsweet switch. Elsewhere, Oneohtrix Point Never adds stardust and an unearthly sense of space on the changeable, slightly moody meditation, ‘Pájaro de Fuego’ (Firebird). The record ends with ‘Alzando el Trofeo’ (Lifting the Trophy), a track that could soundtrack a state wedding, what with its beautiful cascading piano parts, a sugary vocal and short triumphal guitar riffs that add a rich patina to the overall sound. Fratti: “When I doubled those vocals on ‘Alzando el Trofeo’ I felt there was an epiphany happening, right at that moment.”


Making a good record is a team game. Tosta and Fratti recall seeing Randall from Circular Ruin Studios in NYC “tweak the drums in ‘Libra’ to make that amazing effect of the gated reverb”, or the shaping of ‘Gotera’, “when (recording engineer) Nate Salon added some synths to the track.” Drummer Eli Keszler, “an amazing and versatile player” had the songs down pat in a couple of days” and, according to Tosta, Oneohtrix Point Never “just came to one of the sessions and we hung out, and after all the recordings he and Nate were together in some studio and out of nowhere they sent us some beautiful tracks for ‘Pájaro de Fuego’! Fratti concurs. “He decided that he wanted to record because he was listening to the record (Nate works closely with him) and he really liked it! It was a total honour, indeed!”


Bedazzled by the playing, the skyscraping ambition in the arrangements and the giddy moments of contrast thrown up by Hagen, we could allow ourselves a brief moment of flippancy and state that Titanic’s new record is Yacht Rock meets Aeschylus, full-on. It’s also worth speculating that, in this hyper-sensitive, intemperate age, Titanic’s music has the power, however fleetingly, to heal hurts. Hagen is a brilliant showcase for a fresh and enriching form of pop music: displaying a magpie eye for what glints and plundering what has gone before.


Like Vidrio, Hagen was partially and additionally recorded at Fratti and Tosta’s house, aka Tinho Studios in Mexico City, as well as Golden Girl Studios & Circular Ruin Studios in New York City. Mixing was done by Santiago Parra in Pedro y el Lobo Studios, Mexico City and mastered by Rafael Anton Irisarri at Black Knoll Studios, New York City. The recording engineer was Nate Salon.


Hagen featured Mabe Fratti on cello, vocals & backing vocals, I. la Católica on guitar, keyboards, prepared piano, bass & backing vocals, drums by Eli Keszler and synths in ‘Pájaro de Fuego’ from Daniel Lopatin and Nate Salon.


All compositions on Hagen are written by I. la Católica, except ‘Escarbo Dimensiones’ & ‘Pájaro de Fuego’, which were composed by I. la Católica and Mabe Fratti. The record was produced by I. la Católica and co-produced by Nate Salon & Mabe Fratti. And all lyrics are by I. la Católica except ‘Escarbo Dimensiones’, ‘Gotera’, ‘Gallina degollada’ & ‘Pájaro de Fuego’, which were written by I. la Católica & Mabe Fratti.

Peach Discs’ first EP of the post-summer season comes from DJ, producer, and our good pal Amaliah.

The five tracks that make up the Hypnosis EP are a true showcase of Amaliah's rapidly growing skills as a producer, as she picks thoughtfully from her inspirations and flips them into a uniquely Amaliah-coded record – leaning into the housier side of her sound while incorporating elements of bass, garage, UK funky, and prog that have become her calling card.

Lead track "Hypnosis" draws a line straight back to her early UK raving days, with tuff, speed-garage-indebted drums bouncing off prowling subs and emosh, pinging synth lines, while "Watch This" harnesses a similarly heaving bassline but dips towards classic UKG territory with its swinging, broken beat and disembodied vocal chops.

The closest thing to straight-up house on the EP, "Hold Me Closer," features Amaliah's vocals for the first time, as well as additional production from Shanti – an influence evident in the tight, ascending bassline that wraps itself around the stomping percussion.

"Laser Tag" and "Earthling" are maybe the most Amaliah-coded tracks on the record – a pair of highly percussive, UK funky inspired tunes that balance shoulder-bumping drums with wild, arcing synths that prowl across the stereo field, trippy and screwface inducing in equal measure.

Amaliah is also the founder of Borne Fruits, an independent label, event series, and monthly Rinse FM show, showcasing new sounds and emerging talent. This record follows neatly in that vein, as her own emerging talent marries forward-thinking sound design with her roots in raving and soundsystem culture for an EP that's all her own, and one we're thrilled to release.

Fresh techno from the Lowlands by two veterans of the Utrecht scene. Quince made his debut 20 years ago on the renowned Delsin label, while Sayne is the latest alias of DJ, producer and label owner Nuno Dos Santos. All three tracks are built around a single initial idea. Both producers expanded the idea independently, before coming together to forge the final result. The title track Orange has a nice Detroit vibe with its shuffle rhythms and bouncing rimshots, while Klonneplein 1 (an Amsterdam square all too familiar to visitors of a populair techno party) navigates the wobbly bridge between Sterac and Andy Stott. The closing track Work is one for sweaty basements, where bass lines tug viciously at your trouser legs. Raw, distorted jakbeat in a frayed techno jacket. If you like to lose yourself, this sixth EP on the Nowhere label is a good place to start.

On their new album The Besnard Lakes are the Ghost Nation, Montreal’s The Besnard Lakes return with their post-rock psych; but this time around, with a lightness and optimism at play.

Unique among their furrowed brow peers, The Besnard Lakes are unafraid to marry textured, questing headphone sonics to the honeyed pleasure of radio hits past: the rapture of My Bloody Valentine entwined with the romance of Fleetwood Mac. Imagine dreamy Beach House riding Led Zeppelin dynamics, with unabashedly androgynous vocal harmonies; a melodic yet mountainous sound world.

In a crowded leaderboard of their own making, The Besnard Lakes are the Ghost Nation might just be their best album yet; a strive for hope when it is needed most.