Suche:lo fi

Original 1996 3 x 10” albums unplayed, mint condition (have been stored in boxes since ‘96). Not shrink-wrapped – never were…

The Meth Lab returns for its third instalment with “Meth Lab Season 3: The Rehab,” a sharp, hard-hitting chapter that cements Method Man’s place as one of hip-hop’s most consistent and enduring voices. Executive produced by longtime collaborator Handz On, this project finds the Wu-Tang legend in rare form—polished, precise, and laser-focused.

“The Rehab” pulls listeners back into the world Meth has been building since the first Meth Lab sessions: a mixtape-style showcase blending razor-sharp lyricism with streetwise storytelling, packed with energy and attitude. Method Man’s flow remains timeless, weaving between gritty boom-bap, polished modern production, and the unmistakable Wu-Tang aesthetic. A strong lineup of guests brings extra fire to the set—Cappadonna, RJ Payne, Redman, KRS-One, JoJo Pellegrino, Jadakiss, Carlton Fisk, Hanz On, Intell, Iron Mic, 5th Pxwer, Chunk Bizza, Eddie I, Cortez, and more—each stepping into Meth’s world with their own hard-edged energy. Behind the boards, producers like P. Version, Rockwilder, Eric Sermon, Adam McLeer, Daniel C. Wells, Darnell Norman McConnell, and Joshua D. Zimmerman craft a gritty yet refined sonic framework that elevates every performance.

More than just another chapter, Season 3: The Rehab feels like a victory lap: a culmination of decades of craft, a celebration of the Staten Island movement, and a reminder that Method Man still out-rhymes rappers half his age. It’s a must-own for Wu-Tang fans, East Coast purists, and anyone who appreciates sharp writing and decades-deep mastery.

A chance meeting in Mexico City set Points of Inaccessibility into motion. When Ibero-American composer Rafael Anton Irisarri crossed paths with Dutch media artist Jaco Schilp at MUTEK in 2024, a conversation about how technology shapes perception revealed an unexpected common ground. Schilp invited Irisarri to a spring 2025 residency at Uncloud, the Utrecht-based collective he co-founded, where Irisarri's sound began to take form amid an environment shaped by Schilp’s visual research.

The Uncloud studio was located inside the former Pieter Baan Centre, a forensic psychiatric prison where suspects of violent crimes were once confined. Its long history of silence and containment shaped the atmosphere in which the project developed. Within this setting, Irisarri coaxed long bowed-guitar tones through a network of pedals and looping systems. The raw gestures thickened into a vaporous and architectural field of sound. Schilp processed the material through a custom point-cloud software patch that produced images in continuous flux. The visuals flickered, dissolved and reformed like memories that resist coherence, functioning as a digital Rorschach that reflected the observer’s own perception.

Amid these spectral echoes, the project evolved into an examination of how the past persists within present signals. Memory endures as residue and interference, continually shaping perception even when its source has faded.

Schilp’s visual process required a continuous stream of sound in real time. Irisarri improvised throughout the residency, generating material that allowed the visuals to develop in parallel. Once back in his New York studio, he began shaping the recordings by carving pathways through the improvisations and mapping selected passages into MIDI. This process allowed him to build outward from the bowed-guitar material with minimal overdubs, adding Prophet 5 textures, Moog bass and strings that expanded the harmonic field while keeping the original performances at the center. To refine the structure, Abul Mogard provided editorial input, working with Irisarri’s stems to guide transitions and strengthen the overall pacing. The material, originally created under conditions of immediacy and constraint, evolved into a fully realized work through careful revision, patience and sustained reworking.

The title engages the geographic concept of the Poles of Inaccessibility, locations defined solely by their distance from all surrounding points. Irisarri adapts this idea to the conditions of digital life, where new forms of inaccessibility arise through the informational enclosures that structure perception. What appears to be a fully connected network often produces a deeper kind of separation, one shaped by the filtering logic of the systems that mediate experience. In this sense, the digital sphere mirrors its geographic counterpart. We inhabit spaces saturated with signals, yet the possibility of genuine contact becomes increasingly remote.

At its core, Points of Inaccessibility considers what can be understood as the new rituals of capitalist realism. Irisarri uses the term digital shamanism to describe the forms of simulated connection that organize contemporary life. These systems promise comfort through algorithms, influencers and AI interlocutors, yet they often reproduce the same conditions that generate loneliness in the first place. What appears as connection becomes the echo of connection, a sequence of gestures that imitate solidarity while withholding it. Like the geographic poles, these rituals are defined by distance. They pull us into environments where everything is illuminated, yet meaningful proximity becomes increasingly rare. In this sense, the work approaches a hauntology of the present, a reflection on futures that have stalled and intimacies that have been thinned by the algorithmic infrastructures that surround us.

This thematic tension unfolds across the album’s four movements. Faded Ghosts of Clouds introduces the work with textures that rise and dissipate in slow cycles, creating an atmosphere that resists clear definition. Breaking the Unison occupies a pivotal position in the sequence and focuses on the moment when the individual and the system fall out of alignment. Its shifting patterns trace the scattering of signals that once suggested connection, revealing the instability at the heart of contemporary perception. Signals from a Distant Afterglow forms the center of the album and features vocals by Karen Vogt, whose presence enters the sound field like a fragile transmission shaped by distance and delay. The closing piece, Memory Strands, follows motifs that appear, recede and briefly intersect before returning to quiet. Across these movements, the album outlines a landscape in which emergence and disappearance continually inform one another.

Listening to Points of Inaccessibility is an encounter with a sound field that is constantly in flux. Elements surface briefly, shift position and recede, creating a sense of motion that resists stable interpretation. The music moves between closeness and vastness, carrying traces of memory while withholding a clear point of resolution.

The album’s visual identity completes the project’s conceptual arc. In Mexico City, where Irisarri and Schilp first met, Daniel Castrejón transformed stills from Schilp’s point-cloud visuals into the cover image. The final artwork captures a single suspended frame of the digital material, a moment extracted from a field that is normally in constant motion. Its surface recalls the texture and abstraction found in the work of Catalan artist Antoni Tàpies, where material presence and erasure coexist within the same plane.

What emerges is a work that examines the tension between technological systems and human presence. Points of Inaccessibility asks whether connection is still possible within environments shaped by mediation and delay, or whether we have become isolated points within the very networks that promise proximity. What possibilities for relation persist within environments organized by algorithms and interruption? And how are we meant to understand presence when so much of it is constructed at a distance?

Points of Inaccessibility will be released on BioVinyl on February 6, 2026, with audiovisual performances planned throughout 2026.

Mastered by Stephan Mathieu
Artwork by Jaco Schilp
Design and layout by Daniel Castrejón
Artist photo by Iulia Alexandra Magheru.

Allowing yourself to find meaning or beauty in the mundane is an act of generosity, Whether it’s seeing a smiling face in an electrical outlet socket, or discerning cosmic design amidst the forest floor detritus, it comes from a place of kindness to yourself and senses – and openness to hidden spirit of the world. These tracks came together during a period of intense personal change for adaa, rooted in a fruitful reflection on the connections between spirit and body, “feeling my flesh so I can feel and understand my spirit,” as adaa puts it. The sense of a crossover and clash of multiple connected realities – on-screens, on-line, on-earth, off-world, after-life – unites adaa’s multifaceted productions.

Ostensibly an assemblage of found sounds. scribbled thoughts and poems from diaries, and musial snippets, the album's scattered production reflects adaa’s own many mirror worlds. Field recording sit behind most tracks, alongside VST synths, guitars, and a variety of voices, from adaa’s own mangled vox to EVP samples taken from YouTube (recorded sounds believed to be spirits or paranormal activity), all processed to varying degrees.

While the music was mostly produced either in adaa’s studio in Providence, Rhode Island, or in bed, the field recordings bring the outside world in. The result of walks in the woods, hum of roads and highways, hiss of beaches, warmth of walks with friends and past lovers “around the East Coast”. It sits behind tracks like ‘sight’ where a lilting piano lin bobs atop a pond of rustling and distant whistles. Is that birdsong? Or ghosts? Saccharine hyperpop arpeggiation crossfades sharply into noise guitar squall. Angelic demon voices yawn into a hefty crescendo. Pure drones duet with gales of undefinable field sounds.

“Sometimes I feel like a seed in frosted soil,” says adaa. “If i choose to be optimistic.”

A house is something that is so deeply temporary, yet it can hold so much energy. How do we carry or leave behind those energies while transitioning into new spaces? How does each space we occupy for some time shape us and how do we tear ourselves away from it and its influence once it’s time to go? These are some of the core questions behind CC Sorensen’s new album for mappa, ‘Phantom Rooms’ – it’s a record about movement, change, transformation, family, juxtapositions… but most of all, home.

CC Sorensen was reflecting a lot on their childhood home in rural Kansas, USA while working on this music. The album could be characterised by a familial, chamber feel and both of CC Sorensen’s brothers, Ryan and Nyal Ruehlen, make an appearance on ‘Phantom Rooms’, among other instrumentalists. Using a wide palette of sounds – CC Sorensen alone in charge of keyboards, software instruments, voice, electronics, percussion, trumpet, guitar and field recordings, in addition to guests on pedal steel, voice, chimes, saxophone and drumset – the American musician crafts music as mysterious as it is inviting. The idea behind it would be almost surrealist – ghostly rooms in houses where we live – if we all didn’t know exactly what CC Sorensen means. Home isn’t something concrete, but it’s also not just an abstract concept. It’s a space beyond space; home in itself is a phantom room we enter. And what enables us to enter is the object of exploration here.

CC Sorensen’s approach is playful – tracks like “Beat Bot” and “Plastic Portals” are almost fun – but also contemplative. They make thoughtful, meandering chamber music intertwined with field recordings and electronics. Reeds, strings and percussion often set the atmosphere – sometimes airy, gentle, at other points more insistent – as the music grapples with departure, instability, deep reflection and imagined future spaces. Especially in the closing “Bexar” there’s a tangible yearning for a stable home, a longing to rekindle and keep ablaze this beautiful familial connection to a physical place. It’s both music that invites to reflect and music that in itself reflects; desires, hopes and dreams.

You don’t need to be Freud to regard teeth as a delicate issue. They can make joy look joyous and pain look painful, and on the cover of the new múm album they do both at the same time. As »Yesterday Was Dramatic – Today Is Okay« (2001), »Finally We Are No One« (2002) and »Sing Along To Songs You Don’t Know« (2009) »Smilewound« is another example of the band’s art of juxtaposing two conflicting meanings and taking advantage of the energy created through the tension between both.

Sparser in sound than many of its predecessors, »Smilewound« is an airy, relaxed record. The múm-core-duo of Örvar and Gunni doesn’t make you laugh out loud (except maybe for the quirky vintage Arcade-sound-start of »When Girls Collide«), but it will make you smile often - despite the heavenly voices singing about violence in one form or another in most songs. Musically, múm’s capability to build playful electronic sound-ornaments around simple melodies is in full bloom. And these days they know that trimming the ornamentation can strengthen the melody. Take »The Colorful Stabwound«: an aguish drum’n’bass piece and »Smilewound« gets close to a straight pop-song. Even that isn’t very close, but it combines its rhythmic strength with a simple yet effective piano-line and the soothing lushness of a female voice to something compelling that follows you like the smell of a delicate eau de toilette. Or »Candlestick« which started out as a little ditty strummed on an acoustic guitar many years ago and has grown into this bouncy piece of synth-pop that changes its musical colours every couple of beats until you feel comfortably dizzy. Perfect pop in very fancy clothes. No wonder that antipodean pop-princess Kylie Minogue wanted to collaborate with múm on the »Whistle«, the main song in 2012-movie »Jack & Diane«.

Recorded in, among other places, the band’s practice-space, an old baltic farmhouse and on the kitchen-table after dinner, the album was produced by múm themselves. And being the revolving collective they are, it comes as no surprise that we see the return of former member Gyda. Defining satellites as part of the core fits nicely with the band’s penchant for ambivalence - in fact that's part of the album's charm.

»Ka ora te awa. Ka ora te iwi. The river is well, so the people are well«, says artist and writer Hana Pera Aoake. »In a Māori worldview, everything is connected and contains mauri, the life spark or essence inherent in all things, as they contain the residue of ancestors through whakapapa, or genealogy. Within Western environmental histories, there is a gap in knowledge around what we can learn through an act of listening.«

Hana Pera Aoake’s words resonated with Hinako Omori when they were invited by the Serpentine Gallery to write a piece of music for their »Serpentine Reader« publication on the theme of circulation. Aoake’s essay about listening to the river and other bodies of water parallels Omori’s own Japanese cultural view of water as a sacred source.

»studies on a river« places these two notions side by side, with Omori’s recordings of water sources and elegant 3/4 synth compositions matched to extracts from Aoake’s writing. The first side presents the music alone, while the second is where the project really clicks, with Aoake’s themes and Omori’s gentle, washing sounds completely in sync.

In 1999, on December 23 to be precise, the electronic music landscape changed forever. On that day, the now legendary Icelandic band múm released their debut album “Yesterday Was Dramatic – Today Is OK”. The thing is though, back in the day, hardly anybody realized. It was Christmas after all, people were busy with potentially more important things and didn’t pay attention to some kids selling records on Reykjavík’s high street. Little did those shoppers know.

Thankfully, those 10 tracks weren’t overlooked for long. On the contrary: the album went on to become one of the most influential building blocks of what back then was called electronica and today is considered an art form playing a crucial and important role in shaping and defining the rich electronic music culture of the 21st century. Now, 20 years after the record dropped onto planet Earth, Morr Music is re-issuing the remastered album with its original artwork, adding newly commissioned re-works: A note-for-note representation of “Smell Memory“ by Kronos Quartet (with additional drums by múm’s Samuli Kosminen), a gentle reinterpretation of “Random Summer” by acclaimed pianist and composer Hauschka and an otherworldly new version of “Ballad Of The Broken String” recorded by label mate Sóley. Additionally, four remixes produced in the early 2000s are made available for the first time ever on vinyl here.

In 1999, electronic music was in full bloom. The dance floors were thriving worldwide.Yet the concept of using electronic sounds in acoustic-based productions (or vice versa) was still in its infancy. Many producers were trying, most of them failed. The results felt often forced, fabricated, unimaginative, random and forgettable. New ideas require new mindsets after all. With “Yesterday Was Dramatic – Today Is OK”, múm established a new approach in music production. Instead of setting a fixed agenda and working with a distinct hierarchy for their sonic palette, Gyða Valtýsdóttir, Kristín Anna Valtýsdóttir, Gunnar Örn Tynes and Örvar Smárason let each instrument and sound source be true to itself, creating an ever-evolving universe of sonic bliss. Listening to the album in 2019 still makes every music lover’s heart jump. Combining Drill-and-Bass-inspired beat-chopping, future-informed DSP-programming, ethereal vocal work, indie rock’s boominess, folk music’s soulful brittleness and a lofty feeling for melody and arrangement, the album is a rare example of musical transcendence and remains impossible to categorize.

Many of the ideas formulated and recorded for the album quickly became an integral part of the canonical self-conception musicians around the world were and still are aspiring to. How these ideas really came about, though, is not known – the dynamics, the struggles, the qualms, the sudden realization of having achieved something which might actually stick. Maybe that is a good thing. Örvar Smárason remembers that most of the album “was recorded in a tiny, sweaty room in the summer of 1999 with carpenters banging nails around us, but sometimes we put on headphones so we couldn’t hear them.” It is a good thing they did. As is often the case with classics, all one can do is listen closely and let the magic sink in – again and again.

There is a breaking point where the mind yields and the body takes command. This is precisely the territory of Frenetic Habits EP.

Asymetric80 lands at INDUSTRIAS MEKANIKAS with an unapologetic statement: a direct immersion into the aesthetics of collapse and extreme habits. The work places you in the center of a post-apocalyptic scenario, where survival no longer relies on calm, but on your ability to endure mechanical tension.

The sound is built upon solidity and saturation. You won’t find fragility here, but rather an architecture of EBM, New Beat, and Industrial Techno designed to dominate any sound system that dares to play it.

Side A establishes the hierarchy with Frenetic Habits. Far from linear, the track unfolds a broken, demolishing rhythm, generating a devastating sonic pressure that completely envelops you. It is a piece of constant drive, an armored machine advancing over the very ground you stand on. It is followed by Exile and Unmasked, which shifts the strategy towards depth: a hypnotic immersion where industrial textures densify, creating a dark atmosphere that traps you with no escape.

On Side B, Bleak materializes the heaviness of the environment. A slow-burning, corrosive track with deep bass, which you can feel advancing with the force of concrete. To close, Dementia releases the accumulated tension with overflowing kinetic energy; a final outburst of controlled aggression that closes the cycle with maximum intensity.

Frenetic Habits EP is a record of ironclad textures and terminal atmosphere. A work that documents not defeat, but the brute force needed to remain standing when everything around has come crashing down.

Born to Dominican and Brazilian parents, xavi grew up bouncing from place to place, picking up inspiration wherever he landed. His first love was baile funk, but he was raised on classic hip-hop, eventually notching up production and songwriting credits for Vince Staples, Demi Lovato and Ariana Grande. But the major label life wasn’t giving; sick of the industry, he headed back to São Paulo to soak up the atmosphere and connect with artists on the ground. Before long, he started uploading quickfire bangers to SoundCloud – at this point there are over 350 of them on his feed – an »evolutionary playlist« in his own words, bursting with ideas.

»balança e paixão« is his debut release, proper, a 12-cut snapshot of chaotic, trailblazing, turbulent genius – bending thrashed rhythms into relentless vocal chops from a laundry list of young brazillian MCs. Built on ear-zizzing »tuin« hits and razor’s edge cuts, he creates hypnotic ripples that wedge themselves between São Paulo’s weirdo fringe (artists like JLZ and Iguana) and the percussive, MC-heavy sound of funk ritmado, one of the contemporary scene’s most vital and recognisable strains. Crucially, you can hear a Photek-like approach to space in his productions too, filling the gaps with metallic clangs to lend his rhythms their own unique dimension. The flipside takes it slower, deeper. On »sei q tu gosta« (I know you like it), DJ Leal Original and MC Vuk Vuk’s voices are transformed into ghosted sibilances next to xavi’s sonar pings and woodblock hits with an almost avant-dancehall slant, like some choice Equiknoxx dub, while on »cuidado bandida« (be careful bandit), he deploys bone-rattling trills that bite down on atmospherics that wouldn’t be out of place on Akira Yamaoka’s »Silent Hill« OST.

cLOUDDEAD's debut album, compiling six 10" EPs that appeared between 2000-2001, is aurally dense and obscured. A sprawling mass of miniature beat-suites and Dadaist lyrics, this strange and beautiful 3xLP would influence a myriad of sub-genres (cloud rap, hauntology, lo-fi hip-hop, etc.) in the two decades since its initial release.

Only the three members of cLOUDDEAD – Why?, Doseone and Odd Nosdam – can speak to the group's origins, but in the context of underground hip-hop towards the end of the 20th century, their arrival makes perfect sense. Cincinnati had a vital scene; home to Scribble Jam, an annual confluence of MCs, DJs, B-boys and graffiti artists. While the trio soon relocated to the Bay Area where they co-founded the Anticon collective, their Midwestern roots – in ramshackle basements of off-campus hovels, as the "cerberus of Southern Ohio" – would remain the atomic heart of their early recordings.

As Chris Martins writes in the liner notes, "The only reason we know their names today is because of how loudly and curiously they aired their insularity. They rewrote the entire world as they knew it through their own fucked perspective, and when those mysterious 10-inches started popping up in record shops, it wasn't just a puzzle to investigate: there seemed to be a whole cosmology hidden in those grooves."

Each side of the album represents one of those elusive 10-inches, each embodying a universe unto itself. Opening salvo "Apt. A" and "And All You Can Do Is Laugh" are perhaps most emblematic of the cLOUDDEAD experience. Why? and Dose create a new language through boundless non-sequiturs, sing-song non-choruses and call-and-response hooks, while Nosdam's dexterous production shifts from crackling ambience of Flying Saucer Attack to tight Ohio Players drum breaks and oblique film samples.

Taken all together, cLOUDDEAD is an original interpretation of hip-hop in the surreal Y2K glow – a bizarre meeting point between William Basinski's Disintegration Loops and MF DOOM's Operation: Doomsday. All it took was a Dr. Sample SP-202, Tascam cassette eight-track and cheap RadioShack mic. There's truly nothing like it.

This edition has been faithfully restored by Nosdam. European exclusive version comes on clear vinyl, incl. fold-out poster and liner notes insert.

Inspired by witnessing the broken tension and renewed possibilities of a laptop breaking down at a gig – not to mention the void left behind by the sudden end of a relationship – Pentu’s latest release is a jump-cut menagerie of musical moments. Sewn together into ‘And I Saw My Devil And I Saw My Deep Blue Sea’, these fifteen tracks continue the London-based producer’s active departure from the soundscapes and song structures that dominated their previous writing style. These disparate pieces slice themselves off into sudden silence, or veer into unpredictable sidebars, hopping from hyperactive instrumentals to beautifully deconstructed YouTube samples. Described by Pentu as “emotionally intuitive to write”, this is music by and for the endlessly scrolling modern mind – “navigating the world alongside the splintered, interruptive emotional hyper realities of social media.”

The sudden silences, drones, and interruptions are perhaps less surprising than the guitar-based textures of metal & shoegaze woven into several vital passages by Pentu. The result is a collage that encapsulates the erratic feeling, not only of a relationship’s end, but simply of navigating online mediascapes.”I found myself realising that my phone, the constant interrupter of nothingness and silence, was both a cause of depression (reliving memories, dating apps) and a relief from it (creating new friendships, distractions, also dating apps)”, says Pentu.

Pentu’s attempt to overcome content overload by actively curbing his setup of laptop-guitar--synth does little to reduce the scope of this album’s sonic palette. YouTube vlog samples (from videos with next-to-no views) are an attempt to recontextualise and dramatise material that “would have otherwise been throwaway moments lost in the internet”, adding staccato moments of reality to Pentu’s beautiful and jarring album-length paean to overstimulation.

Inspired by the soundtrack from the motion picture American Graffiti, this 3LP collection captures the sound of late night cruising, jukebox romance and early rock ’n’ roll rebellion. Spanning doo wop, rockabilly and classic pop, the set brings together era defining hits from the mid 1950s to early 1960s, featuring timeless favourites by Chuck Berry, The Beach Boys, Dion, Little Richard, Sam Cooke, The Platters and many more. Pressed across three vividly coloured vinyl records, red, blue and yellow, this set is both a nostalgic listening experience and a striking collector’s piece, celebrating the golden age of American rock and pop in authentic style.

Introducing Self Portrait, the latest chapter from the endlessly inventive one-man force Ryan Adams — a brand‐new, 24-track album that brings together fresh, unheard originals alongside spellbinding reinterpretations of classics by R.E.M., New Order and more.Capturing restless creativity and emotional depth across the two dozen songs, this bold collection once again proves why Ryan Adams is one of the most distinctive voices in modern music. Self Portrait shows Adams at his finest – poignant, unpredictable and sonically rich. For long-time fans, it’s another essential chapter in a prolific career, for newcomers, it is the perfect entry point into the world of Ryan Adams. This project isn’t just another album from Ryan Adams—it’s a dual‐mission: hear where he’s been, and where he’s going.

When you listen to birds, they usually talk about food, sex/family, or anxiety. If they knew about the true nature of humanity's cruel and exploitative relationship with birds, they would be discussing rebellion. Humanity's current trajectory about birds is to cause the extinction of one-third of all bird species by the end of this century.

This record crystallises the borders between memory, beauty, and anxiety. At the core is an amalgam of all the birds we have met and heard, their sounds synthesised from a blend of memories. Esthetically it simulates the qualities of bird sounds, hitting similar frequential sweet spots. There is a great variety of birds captured here, from high to low frequencies, from solo voices to groups, from birds standing on their own to complex world-building, where the bird voices are part of an ecosystem, becoming one of the instruments.

You could stop there, enjoying this record on a musical level, but it invites us to do one step further, to consider reconfiguring our relationship with the Earth and its inhabitants. To question our impact, and to ask why we need synthetic bird music. Is it just a visionary endeavour or is it because we are failing at fostering a world in which organic birds and other creatures can thrive?

32 artists from the whole world, including our favourite artists from Eastern Europe, have contributed to this compilation both with new and previously released music. Their music is ordered from dawn to dusk and into the night. For many of the artists it's their first time on mappa, but some have previously released an album with us.

After following Luke Blair's work for approaching two decades from his 2007 debut as Lukid on Actress' Werk Discs, we're humbled to present a new album on Death Is Not The End. Following relatively hot on the heels of 2023's Tilt (his first in 11 years, not counting his work with Jackson Bailey under the Rezzett guise) Underloop brings Blair's innate knack for building loops and sound structures further to the surface, while allowing his ear for emotional expression to be dialled up a notch. Those fortunate enough to be familiar with Lukid's work as a DJ will be aware of how distinct his ability is to seamlessly disappear into loop-based abstraction and back again seemingly without blinking, and often Underloop feels much like a collection of the sludgey interludes and foggy sketches that underpin his sets. Blending apparently ramshackle melodies and textures and pulling them together into an undeniable whole, Blair's tendency for pairing the simple and the indescribable with an understated vigour is fully on show here.

Written and produced by Luke Blair. Mastered by Giuseppe Ielasi.

This is a super limited double vinyl only press.

Twelve Il Bosco edits of new wave bangers tried and tested down in the Manctalo Disko at The White Hotel and beyond...

No digital will be sold. Again as we said plenty of times before the reason we don't sell the digital tracks is out of respect for the original artists. We make no money on pressing vinyl.

It's expensive. time consuming and nobody fukin buys it anymore.
We do it because we love this shit and the chance to share our discoveries with ya'll.
We hope our compilations serve as an advert for the original artists.
You fall in love with a track, find out who it is and then go and discover more about them.

Shouts here to Hysteric (Mothball Records) for track 3 and Kelvin Andrews & Balearic Mike (Down To The Sea And Back) for putting me onto Car Crash Set leading me to discover track 1.

If there is a year zero for the introduction of reggae music to Japan, you’d be forgiven for thinking it was 1979 when Bob Marley and the Wailers toured the country, trailed by an entourage of journalists, photographers and fans ready to spread the message of the music into all corners of Japanese society.

But the story of Japanese reggae is not a linear one, and the music that is collected on Tokyo Riddim 1976-1985 captures the moment J-reggae entered the broader public consciousness, merging commercial city pop style with an infectious backbeat, that has drawn comparisons with the emergence of Lovers Rock in the UK.

Rather than look directly to Jamaica, many producers and artists in Japan were inspired instead by the more approachable sounds of The Police and UB40, their reggae fix arriving pre-filtered through the lens of new wave pop from the UK. Playful and groovy, these album deep cuts have been overlooked for too long.

Among them are Miki Hirayama, the idol singer who borrowed the bassline from Bob Marley’s Natural Mystic on ‘Denshi Lenzi’, Chu Kosaka, who headed to Hawaii to cut the Jimmy Cliff-inspired ‘Music’ and Marlene, the Philippine songstress whose cover of Roberta Flack’s ‘Hittin’ Me Wear It Hurts’ owed much to her producer’s obsession with Sly & Robbie’s Compass Point sound.

Then there was Izumi “Mimi” Kobayashi, who enlisted the Babylon Warriors to perform on a dubbed-out version of her own track ‘Lazy Love’, the city pop-meets-new wave reggae sound of Miharu Koshi’s ‘Coffee Break’, Junko Yagami’s anti-apartheid deep cut ‘Johannesburg’ and Lily, whose ‘Tenkini Naare’ was produced by Ryuichi Sakamoto and closes out the compilation with a flourish.

While these stories may not always conform to neat narratives, they do provide a more accurate reflection of the indirect ways in which styles infiltrate one another and, in their naivety, have the potential to create something beautifully strange and entirely new. Previously only available in Japan, the tracks on this compilation are a testament to that curious alchemy.

Tokyo Riddim 1976-1985 is released on vinyl and as a full album download (no streaming), featuring original artwork by Japanese Fukuoka-based artist Noncheleee, whose cover pays homage to the iconic dancehall album art of Wilfred Limonious.

Released on 1st September, Tokyo Riddim 1976-1985 is part of Time Capsule's Nippon Series, a loose series of compilations exploring different musical scenes from Japan between the 1960s and 2010s.

Mutable Ground is an album created through an exchange of recordings between Anna and Yannis. The project is rooted in the idea of sudden shifts in current events and the ever-growing emotions tied to loss, change, and tension. Each track title is inspired by unstable phenomena and objects, reflecting the potential for unexpected movement and the transitions of both nature and humanity. Repetitive, chaotic drum patterns, vocals that echo sounds of wounded or lost animals, hollow soundscapes reveal a sonic world where creation and destruction coexist—where people dance around fires, caught between fragility and resilience.

(make of that what you will). FIG DISH were four high school friends: guitarists/ vocalists Rick Ness and Blake Smith, bassist/ vocalist Mike Willison, and drummer Andy Hamilton. In their day (a day that began in the late Winter of 1991 and ended in the early summer of 1998), they were known for catchy songs, memorable (often booze-fueled) live shows, and self-sabotage. In July 1995, FIG DISH's debut That's What Love Songs Often Do was released. And just like that, the band was catapulted from regional obscurity into national obscurity. MTV played the video for the band's first single, "Seeds" and FIG DISH toured the U.S. and Canada relentlessly with bands like Veruca Salt, The Muffs, Letters to Cleo, Juliana Hatfield, Local H, and The Rentals. In 1997, their sophomore album When Shove Goes Back To Push , was sunk by a risque music video for the single "When Shirts Get Tight" Featuring adult film stars that MTV refused to play and the band was dropped by an indifferent Polygram Records in the summer of 1998. FIG DISH returned from hibernation in 2024 with two sold out shows in Chicago and the release of Feels Like The Very First Two Times, the band's first "new" release in 27 years, collecting unreleased tracks recorded in the late 90s. On August 1, 2025, Forge Again Records reissued That's What Love Songs Often Do on vinyl for the first time, 30 years after the original CD release. The officially licensed 2xLP features white vinyl, reworked gatefold jacket art by Wall of Youth and vinyl mastering by Carl Saff. FIG DISH celebrated the 2025 re-release with live shows in Chicago and Milwaukee with old tour-mates Letters to Cleo and capped off the year with shows in Kenosha and Chicago with Local H and Fountains of Wayne.