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Moody cacophonies, sonic dispatches from Japan, crystalline breakbeats that are more environment than rhythm: Jake Muir’s enmixed, described by Muir as a “(re)mixtape,” is a mind-bending deep dive into the enmossed archive. Besides reflecting the history of the label, Muir’s mix is a production in its own right. A Los Angeles native based in Berlin, Muir is a DJ and field recordist who “sees mixes as a vehicle to explore narratives outside of the album format.”

In Bathhouse Blues (2023), where Muir sampled various sources to explore gay cruising culture and sensuality, his more expansive, conceptual approach to the form is illuminated. Mixes are not just a linear succession of tracks with transitions—they’re excavations that also result in the creation of new audio artifacts. Inspired by the psychedelic impulses of illbient, Muir uses DJ and sound engineering techniques to melt down genre distinctions and create alien atmospheres.

From the enmossed community, Muir pulls from artists like bad lsd trips, Angelo Harmsworth, Nick Klein, Tetsuya Nakayama, and Patrick Gallagher to coalesce a super-compendium of the global sonic underground, all viewed through his own unique lens. Muir takes major liberties with processing and effects automation to carve new worlds from the soil of these preexisting works. Some of the tracks and material on enmixed are heavily edited, emphasizing specific harmonics or bass frequencies, and some portions contain three or four layers, putting artists in direct conversation with each other.

This heady approach—using the tools of both mixtape and remix—results in a super textual and dense palimpsest of the enmossed catalog. “Because mixes are more open- source,” Muir says, “it’s easier to express some ideas since there is more material to pull from.”

- Rob Goyanes

Silver foil printed j-cards on heavyweight iridescent ('Lapis Lazuli') recycled paper Duplicated at a carbon-neutral facility

“My introduction to “noise” came from a record shop in Lake Worth, Florida ran by a musician named Kenny 5. Kenny had left Detroit sometime in the mid nineties and had begun selling used records and CD’s from the downtown strip of this tiny southern Florida city in a humble shop sandwiched between a deli and a dog grooming business. Kenny previously was on labels like Amphetamine Reptile and timeSTEREO, and the records and videotapes that would be on repeat at his shop were a vast sonic expanse that spoke to the eclecticism of his experience as a touring musician participating and adjacent to American noise culture through the early to late 90’s. In 1998, I was eleven years old and I would order a pizza with him and watch VHS tapes of Japanese noise and deathmatch bootlegs, as well as any other sonic and subcultural rarities that far outstripped my age to comprehend (notably the RRR “Journey Into Pain” compilation and various Vanilla Tapes videos). This widecast net of information formed an introduction to a reality that did not fall deaf on me, but it took many years later for me to reorient the specific freedoms of what this dense and cathartic sound culture had imparted on my life and would continue onward to.

What does this have to do with this selection of choice recordings from the Secret Boyfriend catalog for the enmossed label? For the uninitiated, Secret Boyfriend is the long running moniker of Ryan Martin, North Carolina musician and label proprietor of the Hot Releases imprint. For over a decade from this writing I have watched Secret Boyfriend, and Hot Releases by extension as a curatorial and archival effort, embodying the multiplanal capacity that noise loosely functions from as an umbrella ideology and formalist avenue for sound creation. For anecdotal purposes, from (before) 2006 until roughly 2023 the East Coast of the United States showcased a vibrant network of eclectic regional festivals that saw wide swaths of artists addressing and negotiating the notion of what qualified “noise” from a conceptual and ideological perspective. Some festivals honed in on particularities in aesthetics and tropes, and others had a kind of “catch-all” implementation that allowed for a salvation of the sort of alienated and singular artistry that was amassing throughout these territories. While clear guidelines had been set from regional predecessors as to how noise with a capital “N” should maneuver, Secret Boyfriend is emblematic in the spirit of fluidity that was either implicitly coupled to the notion of the genre, or grew to evolve towards or devolve from.

Within Secret Boyfriend performances, I have seen and admired a mirroring from a ravenous appreciator of this culture at large back towards itself. Typical of a Secret Boyfriend set is an interchangeable narrative arc wherein blistering feedback laden scrap metal improvisations are forayed into naive ambient or “pop” songs, or skipping CDs, or mixer feedback play, or delayed Roland 707 drum workouts all at once and in a unique hegemony. Secret Boyfriend's stylistic mastery of each endeavor is at once an homage to a history of loving listening and enacting, while a brave step into the realm of actualizing the unique fluidity of his own practice. In performance and the action of network engagement, Secret Boyfriend operates a survey of that which he sought to hear and that which he cultivates around his work. His operations are mirrors, and the project (alongside his other peers) is a reflection on the ethos of his time.

Conversely his recording practice narrows in on these moments and allows for a different kind of intimacy or alienation for the non live listener. This record of selected “pop songs” (let's call them that) is particularly poignant at a time when the culture Martin mirrors is at a strange crossroads with itself. The aforementioned festival networks necessarily change and shift. The onlookers become the artists, the artists find new horizons, and the spaces for these cycles fade into locales of a distant memory. It seems, from my perspective, that audiences currently yearn for a more bottlenecked experience, searching for some ontologically vetted manifestation of an idea, of a sound and less for an experience that functions in opposition to our collective banalities. This makes sense in the face of general global catastrophism that plagues us. We need certainty of what something is somewhere, don’t we? Noise as an idea has expanded and contracted to so many iterations of itself it is hard to tell what it even is, and it is particularly difficult to identify in the absence of solid network activations a moment to reflect on its own complexities and nuances. In the face of so much change, I argue that the language of noise culture at large has on one hand become increasingly didactic and predictable, and laughably inclusive and non linear on the other. Probably has always been this way, but now we are in the midst of a moment of extreme access and indexicality, which somehow cauterizes expansion and naivety and chance.

This record highlights the Secret Boyfriend that obscures didacticism by highlighting output that opens up for more challenging catharsis and emotive signal processing. It provides an entry to the materialism of a cultural field full of ecstatic complexity and beautiful inconsistency. In these muted moments Secret Boyfriend has given us over his career we have an argument for evolving languages that further challenge our notions of what is supposed to happen and how it is supposed to be presented. In his more song oriented expansiveness, we can punctuate the ability to think in new modalities. Listening to these recordings reminds me of the polarity of sitting in the record store as a kid and understanding that His Name Is Alive is on 4AD and (gasp!) timeSTEREO. This trite early impression that nothing is really as different as our imaginations might want them to be, and that we can do whatever we want mostly within the creative realms we work through is an important filter to look through Secret Boyfriend as a project and a vessel. If we can achieve abandon and vulnerability through our artistic endeavors, then we have a sound model for, maybe, new potentialities. If that’s too much projection, or just complete liberal bullshit, I am fine with that. Secret Boyfriend's oeuvre at best offers us moments of reprieve to ponder these complexities, or at least a moment to zone out on a drive through North Carolina Highway 54.

You have one pocket of life that you must do whatever you want to inside of. Secret Boyfriend does it affectionately, in a variety of forms, and always with deep sentimentality. These recordings are a wonderful set of songs to begin further investigation from. Thank you Ryan for allowing as many avenues as possible to continue a broad cultural exchange and conversation that intersect and refract while being the kind of artist that is brave enough to not phone in the effort.”

- Nick Klein , May 2024

The Ghentian skyline has low peaks and hides its horrors in full view ~ walk streamside and you’ll quickly be confronted with façades that leer with their tales and secrets, the angels and demons that built this city holding up its mortar and stone in an inextricable embrace. It is within this incongruous backdrop that Benoît Monsieurs has fostered the Venediktos Tempelboom persona. Using the 12-string guitar as his main instrument, the self-taught musician creates passages that take fingerpicking Americana and Eastern transcendence into the Flanders fields, with winding compositions that distill the essence of giants like John Fahey, Robbie Basho and Jack Rose and folds them into the dark drone melancholia of Funeral Folk/KRAAK stalwarts like Silvester Anfang, Helvete and Ignatz. The results are ringing meditations of awe and terror, flamboyant and grotesque yet utterly mesmerizing in their unrooted sonic imagery.

In his debut LP, Syne Vuyle Hoeck, the Tempelboom amalgamates his influences - East, West and deep Flanders alike - into a flurry of acid-drenched tracks that spread out into a distinctive musical iconography. Each composition carries a facet, highlighting angel and demon in equal measure: the solemn opener “De woelige rit op een roze wolkje” is a threading of melodies that carry pensive heft and hopeful asides, as hints of ragtime buoyancy lead into sullen ruminations in a fully lucid change of course; “Ocharme Ochgod” is a sober penitence, slowly and almost imperceptibly building up into a tangle of lines that inexorably coil back into their brooding backbone; the echoing tape loop of “In Flock” reverberates and torments, steel sharpness and frayed magnetic disintegration finding improbable common ground; “El Contrario” swerves unforgivingly in an Eastern-infused openness reminiscent of Six Organs’ rawer days and unnervingly giving way to a forceful - dare we say upbeat - conclusion. And so one treks into the depths of the Tempelboomian universe, a place of high drama and low morals inhabited by a prankster creator who deploys euphoria and distress in equal measure. Just as the strings of his guitar are left to echo like sparkles in the dark, so his music lingers in the soil of our humanity, redolent of the kind of peace one can only make with the demons of the self.

Following their groundbreaking collaboration with Art Ensemble of Chicago, Comme à la Radio, Areski and Brigitte Fontaine began recording almost exclusively together as a duo.

Deeply rooted in North African and European folk traditions, the album features evocative vignettes with breezy vocals and minimal accompaniment of classical guitar, strings and woodwinds.

As always, there is a mercurial quality to their lyrics. The title track (translated as "I Do Not Know This Man") suggests at once Apostle Peter's denial and a poetic acknowledgement. On "C'est Normal" Fontaine playfully questions the status quo while Areski offers satirical answers. What makes Je Ne Connais Pas Cet Homme one of their best-loved albums, though, is its remarkable sense of intimacy – as if Areski and Fontaine beckon listeners into their strange and beautiful world.

This first-time domestic release continues Superior Viaduct's reissue campaign of Fontaine's classic '70s catalog.

eve is the debut collaboration between Past Inside the Present label head zake and Benoît Pioulard captures the serene magic of a quiet December night. Spanning four side-length tracks, the album grew from a decade of sound fragments all layered up "like family album photos." zake shaped the sonic base while Pioulard added textures with guitar, voice, dulcimer, melodica and synths. The title track evokes a wintry stillness with low swells and turntable crackles, while 'Frost' drifts on reverent vocals and shimmering drones. 'Pine' conveys forest mystery and 'Slept' closes with haunting loops and a delicate resolution like snowfall on an open field.

After two solid albums on Motema, both of which earned GRAMMY nominations, Gregory Porter made his Blue Note debut with Liquid Spirit in 2013. Recommencing with the water analogy that characterized his debut disc, Porter saw Liquid Spirit as a logical progression in his burgeoning discography as it touched on some of the same themes, particularly the highs and lows of romance, his childhood, and socio-political observations. The strength of Liquid Spirit lies in Porter's songs, based upon personal experiences with a relatable and emotional immediacy. Even more, his hooky melodies penetrate instantly.

Hailed by public and critics alike, Liquid Spirit won the Grammy Award for Best Jazz Vocal Album in 2014. Platinum in the UK and Germany, gold in France, the Netherlands and Austria, the album has sold over a million copies worldwide.

Marking the 10th anniversary of the album, Blue Note presents a special vinyl edition bringing together the original album on 2LP and a disc of bonus tracks and remixes, with 5 tracks available on vinyl for the first time.

There’s something so magically transportive about the music of the holidays, and here at iam8bit, one of our beloved favorites is The Muppet Christmas Carol. It’s one of the best holiday films of all-time, so in collaboration with our friends at Muppet Studios and Walt Disney Records, we’re so very excited to bring you an exclusively remastered revival of the classic soundtrack, breathing new life into the legendary songs and score by Paul Williams and Miles Goodman, respectively.

7" Release of 2022-2023 Singles from a London-Based Neo-Soul Singer of Ghanaian-British Descent!

The long-awaited analog release of past singles by Nectar Woode, a singer of Ghanaian and British descent whose debut EP 『Nothing To Lose』 became a smash hit!

Side A features "Waiting," characterized by delicate, enveloping harmonies and a relaxed swing. Side B offers "For The Best," a track filled with vibrant melodies and an organic, gentle vocal that radiates euphoria. This 7-inch record allows you to fully enjoy the music of female neo-soul and contemporary R&B artist Nectar Woode.

Analog cut from "Lovers Covers J-Pop 2", a reggae cover compilation of J-Pop hits.

Side A is a reggae cover of Judy and Mary's "Sobakasu,"(1996) which was used as the first opening theme for the anime Rurouni Kenshin and reached number one on the Oricon Singles Chart, sung with an ennui voice. Side B features R-Crown's smooth and touching R&B rendition of Every Little Thing's classic song "fragile" (2001), which was the theme song for the romantic variety TV show Ainori.

Tales From The Loop es el nuevo disco que firma el productor malagueño mess_ey. Se trata de un proyecto paralelo de Broken Lip conocido por ser el 50% de BSN Possee y ex-miembro de Califato 3/4.

El disco se define como un emotivo viaje lleno de melancolía en el que el artista se abraza a las luces y sombras del camino que tiene que recorrer en busca de su propia catarsis personal por la pérdida de Tina, una de las tres perras junto a Mesey y Tuerca que son fundamentales en su vida y a las que ha dedicado este trabajo.

Texto de Electrónica & Roll "Feel The Beat"

For ALT014, Altered Circuits presents its first Various Artists release. In addition to the label's co-founder, three friends of the label appear on this heterogeneous, club-oriented 12''. Portal, with its breakbeat layered drum section and spartan bass hook, sounds like classic Innershades from the start. When the angular leads and slowly phased, ominous chords hit, we are reminded of the artist's fondness for the new beat genre and his ability to translate its tropes and conventions to the present. On Show You Love, Mr. Ho combines skippy two-step drums with an MS20 type of flat bass. After introducing a one-bar mid-bass arpeggiator, gently swelling pads, leisurely spread side riffs and reverb-drenched musings join, calibrating the vibe to lush and groovy. On the other side, Oshana treats groove as the focal point with her Hey Kiss Kiss contribution. Over its 6-minute course, the snappy 909 kick rarely relents while a bunch of often short, many a time looped sequences emerge and disappear, unfolding a hypnotic tapestry of textures. Rising talent Salomee closes the VA with Late Night Summer, a track capable of setting the floor in motion at any moment. It revolves around a portamento-heavy, neon-tinged lead that lingers long after the track ends and a sturdy, efficient one-note bass pulse.

It starts of with jacking proto ACID house song called Delayed Attraction. A song that would have made the kids crazy at the Music Box in the mid 80's. And are still as uplifting for all us house heds. The second song Tear Gas takes us back to Europe, with a slow Belgian beat that moves like a train and hits you straight in the chest, and on top of this a monotom synth pad on top of that it gives the song a some what a scary dream feeling. The third song Nasjiga is taking us further in to the complex dream but packaged in a Detroit electro vibe with sounds that makes me think of a hospital hart beat monitor but then mixed up with bit-crushd lo-fi dragon covers in a dubby inferno that keeps on building up without coming to a climax (in a good way). The forth song Verfolgung is a 8 minute stomping song that's starts of in a Burzum sounding flute but the quickly goes over to a freaky baseline that's sounds like its made out of a congas patch and a detuned bass on top of that. On top of that they put a march bands drum pattern that gives this song a freaky tivoli vibe and would be such a banger a the right time of a DJ set. /Jens W Limited numbered to 200x * Delayed Attraction - With a bumpy baseline that grooves, hard hits on the drum machine, this is are both funky and hypnotic. * Tear-Gas - A mid-tempo acid journey that blends funky drum patterns with psychedelic trance strings. Typical FRAK's acid-outed sound, with a hypnotic and thumping beat and bassline. * Nasjiga - The B-side kicks off with a deeply dubby and tribal vibe, with splashing hi-hats and echoed percussions. like the heartbeat of an underground train going of the rails. * Verfolgung - This track kicks hard with a marching beat that builds into a funky disco. It's playful yet progressive energy leaves you with a smile on your face and your feet moving on the dance floor. Honk Honk! // Dj Jespha Galore