quête:loop d loop

Scout (Amsterdam, 17 februari 2001) heeft in de afgelopen jaren volledig zijn eigen geluid gevonden binnen de Nederlandse popmuziek. In een wereld tussen Hip-Hop en alternatieve Pop ziet de zanger en producer zich als verhalenverteller. In zijn EP "littekens" komt zijn grootse en melancholische geluid tot leven in een verhaal over zijn ervaringen met liefde en mentale gezondheid. Door in zijn eigen slaapkamer te schrijven en op te nemen is de EP doordrenkt met kwetsbaarheid en intimiteit. Hierdoor neemt de opkomende ster de luisteraar mee naar zijn eigen wereld.

Na jaren ervaring te hebben opgedaan op piano pakt Scout in 2016 voor het eerst een basgitaar op en voordat hij het weet schrijft de jonge artiest op zijn kleine studentenkamertje in Delft zijn eigen muziek. Het ging ineens niet meer over noten, rijmschema's en akkoorden: het maken van muziek was uitgegroeid tot zijn therapeutische uitlaatklep. Hieruit volgt in 2020 uiteindelijk zijn self-titled debuutalbum "Scout".

Sinds eind 2022 brengt het opkomend talent consistent muziek uit en vindt hij zijn eigen weg binnen het muzieklandschap. Door steeds meer instrumenten onder de knie te krijgen en meer en meer te leren over muziek en emotie ontstaat een werkelijk nieuw, echt en eigen geluid wat maar met één woord te omschrijven valt: kippenvelmuziek.

Na het uitkomen van zijn EP "littekens" in april 2023 wordt hij benaderd om dit werk uit te brengen op vinyl. Om deze muzikale reis uit te breiden en om nog dieper in de wereld van scout te duiken bevat de LP vier bonustracks. Hieronder valt een akoestische versie van het populairste nummer "herfst", die de kwetsbaarheid van de jonge maker nog verder naar voren brengt. Ook bevat de LP een live versie van "de wereld draait door". Deze versie is opgenomen in beroemd restaurant "De Goudfazant" in Amsterdam. Een speciale plek voor Scout, hier heeft veel van zijn familiegeschiedenis zich afgespeeld. Het nummer komt hierdoor nog meer tot zijn recht door het rauwe geluid van alleen piano en stem. Ook bevat de LP twee extension tracks die het verhaal van de spreekwoordelijke littekens verder uitbreiden. Zo komt Scout in zijn nummer "hartendief" tot de realisatie dat zijn partner hem niet ziet zoals hij haar en komt hij in het nummer "kwijt voor altijd" tot een besluit om het hoofdstuk van deze littekens voorgoed af te sluiten. Deze extension tracks zijn tot op heden alleen te beluisteren op de LP maar zullen in de loop van 2024 ook op streamingdiensten verschijnen. Deze releases zijn de voorzet voor een reeks singles in 2024 die uiteindelijk zullen leiden tot zijn eerste studioalbum in 2025.

With Observatories, we see longtime Dauw-collaboraters Ian Hawgood (Home Normal) and Craig Tattersall (the humble bee) joining forces. If their debut on IIKKI was still rooted in a dialog with photographical work, the duo now offers a more autonomous work. Both being experts in the use of tape in their productions, it’s no surprise that sending loops back and forth was the starting point of this fourth album. On »autumn diffusion – winter seclusion’« we hear 2 longform pieces consisting of several tape-collages in which harmonium, voice and electronics weave together and form structures on which crackling piano sounds can do their magic. A new episode in their growing catalog and one which truly displays the strength of their collaboration.

‘Rituals’ is the new album of spiralling drone & ambient formations by Italian artist Danilo Betti aka April Clocks (Union Editions / Mixed Up); a new work of sublime disorientation by the Rimini-based outlier, arising from a period of reinvigorated artistic practice.

Emerging just over a year after the project’s second album ‘It Takes Time’, ‘Rituals’ heads deeper into spheres of consuming, hypnagogic haze, coursing through nine coalescent compositions of amorphous yet absorbing electronics.

Where ‘It Takes Time’ represented an autodidactic interpretation of Betti’s formative influences – namely shoegaze & proto-ambient - ‘Rituals’ is an enigmatic proposition, the product of subconscious resonances, a mysterious sound world that finds traces of evanescent beauty and uncanny captivation in sustained tones, cavernous oscillations, and aesthetic imperfections, like the notes of subtle surface noise embedded within many of these productions.

Attesting to the value of Betti’s background as an industrious solo artist, making music away from prevailing sites of activity, ‘Rituals’ consolidates the inspirations and hallmarks of the April Clocks project into an acute reflection of Betti’s vision, one that feels completely his own.

In the buried somnolent splendour of the opener ‘Hypersleep’, through the sound art rustle and time-stretched cycles of ‘A Cure’, into the stroboscopic magnitude of ‘Ceremony’ and the haunting string loops of ‘Coward’, Betti captures compelling impressions drawn from a submerged perspective; a deluge of smokescreens and crosscurrents from the other side.

Bearing the influence of subliminal states, ‘Rituals’ is nevertheless lucid and arresting. There are sumptuous holding patterns of ambient evaporation that stream into vast maelstroms of sound (‘Displaced Euphoria’), enervated organ themes that distil sensations of stasis and dissociation (‘Wound’), as well as psychedelic movements in wide tracts of negative space (‘No Time, No Land’). From here, the acoustic glitch of ‘Disappearer’ and the stratospheric slipstreams of ‘Mirror Being’ bring the album to an astonishingly dramatic conclusion.

Throughout such moments of reverie and tension, ‘Rituals’ makes for a hypnotic listening experience. It’s an album that signals a pronounced sense of development for the April Clocks project, from past vestiges of physicality to present degrees of heightened abstraction and ethereality, from the Warp-influenced rhythms and frameworks of ‘It Takes Time’ to the wide- ranging, experimental sounds that unfold here.

Encompassing forms of decomposition and otherworldly futurism, decay and sublimation, distortion and lustre, this is unique, cerebral music that reaches inward and ascends outward, drifting elsewhere, according to its own coordinates.

Recorded and Mixed at Tower of Disintegration, 2022.
Mastered by Miles Whittaker.

da Googie is the solo project of Deb Googe, bass player with My Bloody Valentine, Thurston Moore Group and Brix Smith. Taking a bass IV, a looper and a pile of FX pedals, da Googie blends traditonal basslines with more abstract noises to make intricate, layered soundscapes.

Too Many Things are duo Marion Andrau (The Wharves/ Underground Railroad/Throw Down Bones) & Jem Doulton (Thurston Moore Group/The Oscillation). Marion & Jem play each other’s songs best described as gloomy noise, politico-romantic psych; expect well oiled electronics, guitar, keys and vocals leading you to an underworld reminiscent of the red room of Twin Peaks.

With Scream If You Don’t Exist, Richie Culver metamorphoses from outsider musician to underground fixture, feeling his way from the fringes towards a growing community of musicians that have gravitated towards his singular sound world. Building upon the stark catharsis of his previous dispatches, on his sophomore album the artist draws from grimdark drone, industrial noise, experimental hip-hop and UK rave to map out a space for himself, caught between genre and discipline. While on his debut, I Was Born By The Sea, Culver took a last glimpse back at his grey, salt-flecked past while struggling towards somewhere brighter, here, he documents the process of finding fresh waters, parsing through the complexity of inhabiting a more open and optimistic place while contending with the weight of his resolve, staring hard won self-acceptance in the face. The album’s title speaks to this creative and emotional work, serving both as the foundational paradox from which the artist’s new discordant sound emerges and as a call to action, a defiant cry in the face of existential angst.

Part of this process involves visiting familiar territory with renewed focus. Macabre opener ‘Hottest Day Of The Year’ signals an unpleasant memory with crow caw, queasy, gas leak ambience and dental drill whir as Culver recalls a life lived in nihilism: “Everything is just something that happened / Reductionism, muscles spasms, a mother’s first contraction.” Yet, on Scream If You Don’t Exist, Culver’s irresistible formula for ragged machine poetry is shot through with palpable urgency. No longer listless and despairing, he finds new intricacies for these compositions, tracing a stark interplay between crushing bass excavations and penetrating vocal clarity, a contrast picked out in the delicate threads of rhythmic pulse suggesting themselves in the blunt pressure and skittering creep of ‘Weakness’, on which Culver offers up vulnerability as a tentative solution to self-described emotional constipation: “Please do / Do take my kindness for weakness / For I am weak / And that is ok.” The amniotic soundscape of ‘YOLO (then u die)’ gives way to depth charge drone and unnerving machinic improvisations, like a noise show heard from deep in the Mariana trench, while on ‘Underground Flower’ the low-end fog lifts to reveal a brighter, colder scene. “Love me for who I could be / Not who I am,” he pleads, tending gently to his own tenacious bud.

Scream If You Don’t Exist gives us a glimpse of this flower in bloom. On the album’s cursed self-help tape title track stuttering loops of off-kilter keys and childlike repetition make light of the very real risk of disappearing all-together, a nervous breakdown rendered as a malfunctioning nursery rhyme. Paranoiac anthem ‘Say 4 Sure’ introduces bit-crushed boom-bap stomp, as though hammered out on a water-logged Game Boy, swarms of loose-wire noise sparking up against guttural grunts and ragged exhalations, while ‘On The Top’ enacts a seance for the hardcore spirit, with loops of rave piano and hiccuping vocal chops pirouetting through knackered samples, air raid sirens and the ghostly crash of breakbeat cymbals. As though in response to the solitary nature of much of his musical exploration, this time, the artist invites other voices into the world of Scream If You Don’t Exist. On ‘Swollen’, the unflinching, brimstone prophecy of Billy Woods sounds clear through an expanse of spirallic bass, preaching the same frayed gospel as Culver when he issues the quietly devastating contemporary diagnosis: “Computer broke but it still works for now / That’s the best you can say for most of us anyhow,” while another fearless correspondent from the fringes, Moor Mother, brings earthbound heft to the ambient drift and obliterating barrage of ‘Restaurants,’ teasing out meaning with elongated intonation and pitch-shifted intensity.

It’s during the album’s most meditative moments that we might recognise this space Culver has found for himself for what it really is. ‘OMG They’re Gone’ follows a chopped and slowed monologue from Culver’s wife, who works as a death doula, reflecting on her own experiences with grief and the reality of living within a culture both terrified and ignorant of the process. Floating over glistening ebb, etherised croons and luminous chimes, her words stand as a prescient reminder of the power of ephemerality. Just as Culver flourishes in imperfection, here we can find enormous strength in transcience. But it’s with ‘Just Jump In,’ which unfurls like a buoyant counterpart to the sparkling oil rigs of ‘I was born by the sea’, that Culver illuminates the hopeful waters we realise we’ve been making our steady way towards. “I know now / That you loved me,” he admits, a revelation a lifetime in the making. Through the rawest reflection Culver has found a way forward, driven by an optimism drawn from a resolve to be better, to love and be loved, an admission to weakness and the discovery of a new kind of strength. “Don’t test the water,” he reassures us and himself, “just jump in.”

Scream If You Don’t Exist will be released in November 2023 by Participant, on limited edition vinyl, and digital download . The release will be accompanied by a series of films directed by Mau Morgo, Josiane M.H Pozi, William Markarian-Martin, Simon Bus, and Bruxism.

Bangalore-based brotherly duo Ashwin and Ashrith Baburao combine as Audio Units on a potent new EP for Lady Tazz's Mind Medizin, featuring remixes from Ben Sims and Temudo.

Obsessed with quality, soul and futurism, Audio Units have vast experience of DJing worldwide and real studio know-how. Each of their tracks is a perfect blend of intricacy and experimentation, and they have turned the heads of tastemakers on labels like Dutchie Music, Deep Edition Recordings and Sinnmusik.

They open this high-octane EP with the raw and unrelenting drum funk of 'Aristotelian Tradition', which is run through with warped synths and carefully layered up with gritty percussion and FX. Vocal snippets and smeared pads further flesh out the groove, making for an uplifting sound. Machine party and label head Ben Sims is a UK techno heavyweight at the forefront of the scene. His remix shows that as it ups the percussive energy and allows the synths and vocals more prominence with hypnotic effects.

The second original, 'I'm Just All You Need,' is a twisted and intense mix of fragmented vocals and pulsing synths over vast rock-solid kick drums. It's an urgent track that cannot fail to sweep the floor off its feet and keep it locked for the ride. Next is a remix from new school tastemaker Temudo, who has already put out outstanding records on labels like Klockworks, Soma and Modularz. His version of 'I'm Just All You Need' strips it back to icy hi-hat loops and buffed metal synth lines that weave in and out of the minimal yet tribal techno drums

The ‘Aristotelian Tradition’ EP is another superb release from Mind Medizin that combines the dark and kinky allure of techno with all-out dance floor dynamics.

Javier Jiménez Rolo surprises with Saint Malo, a project that explores the intersections of neoclassicism, folk, ambient and electronic textures.

That Saint-Malo is a town in Brittany is the least of it. Even the fact that it exists is unimportant. Javier has never been there. Similarly, his album takes us to remote or not so remote places without moving from where we are. Javier composed these twelve songs between 2019 and 2021 from his room: "One of the problems with recording at home rather than in a studio is that when you move, your recording space changes too. In the case of this album, I was involved in three moves during its whole process. Trying to see the positive side of this situation, I realised that, as well as a collection of songs, it was a testimonial to the different places where I had lived during those years and their respective views: 'Promenade' is an imagined walk from an interior flat; 'Picture In A Frame' is a sunny afternoon in a park in Ciudad Lineal, Madrid, and 'Bells Of Nowhere' is a stroll through the neighbourhood that was once my grandparents' and is now mine."

It's an eminently evocative album but also powerfully narrative, which moves through different emotional states. Along the way, references as heterogeneous as Javier's own tastes come up. From the inevitable Arvo Pärt, Max Richter and Steve Reich to the more unsuspected Thom Yorke, Burial, Caribou, Vulfpeck or even Dua Lipa. Stéphane Grappelli, Andrew Bird, Nils Frahm, Olafur Arnalds or Rene Aubry are other names Javier mentions when he talks about something similar to influences.

The journey, during which the songs miraculously fit with magical precision to the landscapes we are travelling through, begins with the promising 'Beware Of The Dogs' and 'Maltravieso'. It is followed by the obsessive arpeggios of 'Le Havre' that give way to the luminous 'Fields Of Gold', the emotion of 'Cais do Sodré' and the passionate 'Le pont roulant', reminiscent of a restrained Alexandre Desplat. Along the way, dogs will bark, rain will fall on the 'Promenade' and the sun will come out with the perfectly playful 'Dolce Far Niente' ("a mix between elevator music and a song announcing the arrival of summer" according to Javier) in which echoes of Isao Tomita and Raymond Scott resound.

The result of this captivating, unexpected and suggestive mixture is Saint Malo, Javier Jiménez's first album and the empirical demonstration that he does not have, despite his classical training, any red lines. "I've always flirted with jazz, with swing... Then I moved on to messing around with loops, to doing more ambient and experimental things. I also had my folkie phase with the klezmer group Barrunto Bellota Band..."

In Saint Malo the melodies grow, become small, return and intertwine with loops and improbable aromas, to form an album that describes a journey through emotions. From melancholy to joy and the surprise of first discoveries.

Whisky soaked, nocturnal, brooding. Aging’s album »Troubles? I Got A Bartender« was a noteworthy, film-noir infused suite that quietly slipped out on cassette in 2015 by a then budding Manchester avant-jazz ensemble, led by David McLean.

In 2020, amidst the pandemic’s tempest and winter's gloom, the idea manifested of showcasing McLean’s slow burning, wistful soirée in a new light via a curated effort by Berlin’s Vaagner label, which invited a series of hand-picked artist to rework selected compositions from the album, rendering its mournful, smoke-tinged resonances into new shapes.

Its result is »Reworks (Rewoven)«, and it presents 6 new interpretations by 5 artists. These range from ruminating, tape smudged ambient works interlaced with sublime acoustic strums by fellow Manchester musicians The Humble Bee and Tape Loop Orchestra, to poignant steel guitar renditions by Nashville based Kelby Clark. Furthermore, Barcelona based Dania and London based Laila Sakini, each present pieces that draw the listener into opaque realms harbored by swooning reverie and eerie, glistening prophecy.

Carefully assembled across two sides of vinyl, McLean’s penchant for hard-boiled detective novels, vintage Japanese crime flicks and film noir iconography have a continued lurking presence in the reworks, yet the new pieces each add a modern facet to the original’s cinematic narrative, its morose and sulky mood now opening into new avenues of interpretation. And whilst some artists have chosen to dive further into the themes of contentious ambivalence and pensive solitude, others have sought to slightly lift the haze, stirring up melodies tinged with a sense of hope, hinting at times, towards instants of poise and vivacity.

In the end this leaves us with a new body of work that manages to feel poignant in its complexity whilst remaining dissonant and elusive in its renditions, hinting at a modern day existence even more opaque, intricate and convoluted than the film noir classics of old might have pictured the world.

Trym Søvdsnes is a relative newcomer to the scene, but he’s been putting in work in and around Bergen for years, scoring a residency at the infamous Café Opera, where he snagged the attention of local house legend Bjørn Torske. Soon, the duo were DJing, producing and performing together, eventually running the monthly radio show Pigs in Space where they would go head-to-head for six hours at a time, plumbing the depths of their immense record collections.

It’s this lust for bottom-of-the-crate oddities that guides Søvdsnes’ self-titled debut album, a concoction of dub techno, hard-swung house and percussive club music that positions itself a few paces away from any conventional modes. Basically, a perfect fit for Le Jazz Non.

‘Gølles Dans’ opens with a filtered acid bassline and bone dry kick that’s like some psychedelic, slower variant of Basic Channel’s ‘Enforcement’, slicing into the groove with gristly acoustic percussion that drags it up from the basement. The producer leans into asymmetry on ‘Døgnrytmen’, wrangling 303 squelches with booming Berghain kicks and tight snares, enhancing the psychedelic potential by layering ticking percussion into loopy spirals. If you’ve ever caught an extended Dozzy set, this is the kind of ruff-edged gear he would likely play an hour before sunrise. ‘Ordnings Mix’ is weirder still, slopping chirpy bleep/rave stabs into a jazzy hybrid that sounds like a bossa meltdown.

Søvdsnes saves his most cosmic mettle for last, on ‘Cowboy Acid (Solstikk Dub)’ he strips the kickdrum to a faint knock, before building up into a sort of screwed Metro Area mirrorball that sounds brilliantly out of time.

If there's one specific component that grounds 'Sky Flesh', it's focus. Italian musician and sound designer Marta De Pascalis flexed her technical muscle on 2020's 'Sonus Ruinae', layering various sounds and processes in an attempt to touch the sublime. In contrast, 'Sky Flesh' is a single thought, composed using just one instrument: the Yamaha CS-60. A slimmed-down sibling to the gargantuan CS-80 - the analog synthesizer used by Vangelis to create his iconic 'Blade Runner' score - the CS-60 was released in 1977, a few years before the MIDI protocol was introduced to help standardize production methods. MIDI would change the electronic music landscape completely, offering a level of control that De Pascalis consciously relinquishes, preferring to highlight expressiveness and timbre, elements more readily associated with acoustic instruments. The album arrives as much of the wider experimental scene busies itself with algorithmic composition and AI-assisted modeling; De Pascalis chooses to work instead like an organologist, harnessing the CS-60's mercurial magic to suggest deeper truths about our evolving relationship with machines.

Currently based in Berlin, De Pascalis grew up in Rome, where she was surrounded by atrophied ruins that piqued her interest in decay and memory. Over her last three albums, she used tape loops and advanced synthesizer techniques to create a unique sound world that's guided by her musical philosophy, rather than a specific aesthetic. As she's developed her technique and confidence, her music has become even more idiosyncratic, and at this stage in her career she's stripped her sound down to its core elements, focusing on emotion, narrative and mystery. Using timbres that recall a time when electronic music still waved towards the future

Purple Color Vinyl

We are really proud to introduce a new release on Mawimbi Records: "Mawimbi, Vol. 2”. Its title is a nod to “Mawimbi, Vol. 1”, which was the inaugural release of our record label back in 2015. A new compilation, at last, after a decade of music activism and a handful of EPs and albums which have helped unearth some of today’s talents from the new global music scene (Onipa, Loya, Afriquoi, Raz & Afla). It stays true to the driving principles of our artistic direction: support upcoming artists, e ncourage the breaking down of musical frontiers, help make happen new encounters between electronic music and so-called “afro” music. While these encounters can now be witnessed anywhere in pop music’s current zeitgeist, from Beyoncé to South African’s vibrant amapiano scene, we think there’s still plenty to explore.

“Mawimbi, Vol. 2” truly feels like the culmination of a long path for our record label. Because it includes artists who have been actively contributing to the Mawimbi adventure over the years, and also because it’s another convincing testimony of the fruitfulness of this musical intuition we have so heartily been defending for the last decade. Indeed, the 8 tracks of “Mawimbi, Vol. 2” resist all the usual labels. They sound like they stem more from human encounters and artistic dialogues launched in the moment than attempts to be associated with any music scene in particular. Each of the 8 pieces of this compilation presents in a unique way the search for this cross-pollinating sound.

The compilation opens with a really engaging rework of James Stewart’s classic track “Cotonou” by Lyon-based tropical music enthusiasts Voilaaa, who took Peter Solo’s voodoo soul lines on a trip across the Black Atlantic beginning with a horn-heavy cuban cha-cha-cha before falling into a savory triple time dance. As tireless sonic adventurers, Amsterdam-based duo Umoja have brought back a handful of hits from their numerous trips to Kenya meeting with local benga musicians. “Avana Va” is one of their compelling tunes, featuring Kenyan musician and producer Sidney Simila. This urge to collaborate with musicians from across the African continent is also to be found in Village Cuts’ ever expanding discography. On “Sentima”, they showcase their trademark London funky sound, introducing us to the talents of Congolese guitarist and singer Kissangwa.

Afriquoi’s 2020 hit “Ndeko Solo” is presented in a brand new shape, sprinkled with some French Touch flavours. “Djansa”, by Toulouse-based producers Mr. Boom, rides a distinct South African-inspired groove, while inviting us to a nighttime dance by the Balearic sea. On “Silent Runner”, French producer and musician Ozferti moulds his own musical galaxy where East African scales meet cutting edge global club beats. With “Nabi Kumi”, Anglo-Ghanaian duo Raz & Afla delivers their deepest piece, once again inducing a state of trance with a triple-time beat and an hypnotic kora loop. Closing the compilation, “It's Holy” is a unique collaboration between Tom Excell (Onipa, Nubiyan Twist, David Walters) and Dizraeli, one of the most interesting voices in British rap, which by making connections between broken beat, jazz and african music, illustrates the precious mixture of musical aesthetics that make up the current UK musical landscape.

Lucy Railton trusts in the nuance of her own creative instincts on an intensely modern, quietly radical new album, her second for Modern Love.

Following her 2018 solo debut »Paradise 94’« and countless collaborations in the time since, Railton’s diverse musical circles here bleed into each other, creating an insoluble testament to a lifelong pursuit of sound. The multi-instrumentalist further articulates her own tonal register, embracing her solo strengths and trusting the process to reveal vulnerable and compelling emotional facets through a fluid mix of composition, and pure expression.

On the simplest level, »Corner Dancer« is a record that revels in the momentum of creation. Through a range of approaches, Railton gradually loosens her grip and allows her identities to expose themselves; cut to the bone, sinew and spirit of music making. Reaching outside tried and tested zones, she lands at a charged space characterised by unmetered pacing and an embrace of imperfection, using cello, viella (a medieval cello), Buchla, 808, a fan, synths, horse hair whips, a hand held harp and her own voice, across 8 tracks that arc from an opening sequence of ruptured asymmetries, to something bordering the sublime on »Blush Study’« the album’s masterful closing flourish.

In between, Railton invokes psychoacoustic, heady spins and repetitions, while also allowing space for live performance, a mode to which she feels most attuned, and here captured best on »Held in Paradise« (her violin debut) and »Rib Cage«.

Collapsing boundaries, Railton harnesses a lifetime of formal training in order to patiently trace more ambiguous, intimate and sometimes deviant shapes, operating to a fuzzed logic that loops back to themes with an ingenious underlying dramaturgy of energies, dismantling the form from the inside out, in a way that bends through feeling, rather than design.

ME LOST ME led by Newcastle-based artist Jayne Dent announces a new album RPG via Upset The Rhythm on 7th July, and is touring across the UK including support dates with Pigs x7. RPG (recorded in Blank Studios with Sam Grant of Pigs x7) is ME LOST ME’s fourth outing as a collective, having transitioned from an ambitious solo project in 2017, Jayne now regularly collaborating with acclaimed North-East jazz musicians Faye MacCalman and John Pope.
ME LOST ME delights in experimenting with songwriting and storytelling, creating a beguiling mix of soaring vocals and atmospheric electronics that playfully weave together disparate genres, drawing influence from folk, art pop, noise, ambient and improvised music. Hauntological in part, RPG is concerned with tales and with time - are we running out of it? Does insomnia cause a time loop? Do the pressures of masculinity prevent progress? Jayne Dent asks these questions and more on RPG, her homage to worldbuilding and the story as an artform, calling back to those oral traditions around a campfire, as well as modern day video games - bringing folk music into the present day as she does so.
ME LOST ME presents sound reaching in opposite directions, straddling time towards the archaic and timeless traditions of folktales, and towards the possible and potential futures of pastoral Britain and the world at large. Part speculation, part reminiscence, what results on the new album RPG is music that sounds ultimately displaced and yet omnipresent, adjacent to a hapless Vonnegut hero whose life is scattered throughout time and history, but full of wonder and curiosity rather than fear.
On track “The Oldest Trees Hold The Earth”, we see time stretched out between the branches of impossibly old beings in the woods. This track was co-written in Aarhus, Denmark with fellow Newcastle folk musician (with Danish heritage) Ditte Elly. The pair wordlessly passed a sheet of paper between each other to write the lyrics, inspired by Højbjerg and Mosegård, the woods they were sitting in. “How long should I wait/Before the moss grows?/On my skin, on my outstretched arms,” the lyrics are sung in a round, the close harmonies delicate and detailed.

A central thesis of this album is the joy of creation, something which is paid homage to in the album’s final track, “Science And Art” (Not because we need it to last/just because we needed to make it - so we invented the words/this language). It is also reflected in the definition that Jayne gives for “folk” itself. She comments, “To me, folk is quite an expansive idea. I think of it as creative work that's often made ad-hoc, with things that are at hand and more often than not it's born of a DIY ethos. It is songs and stories of the people, as in the traditional sense, but also creative coding, game design etc. Whatever outlet someone has for their creative expression could be described as folk. It's the things we make because humans need to make things, and the stories we tell about ourselves and the world around us.”
Crucially, on latest album RPG, Dent expands her songwriting and looks towards the unreal locations of worldbuilding in video games for inspiration. She comments, “I think the main similarity is the importance of a song's setting/environment to inform its narrative and textures, I'm often most inspired when out walking in the natural landscape, in cities and travelling to places I've never been before - the environment I'm in really impacts the work I make. While writing this album, however, I found myself inspired by imaginary landscapes, those in video games, paintings, etc. I was writing stories into these unreal locations instead. Even the songs inspired by real places, like The Oldest Trees Hold the Earth, have a very surreal quality to them in the songs, like they're being warped and turned into something not of this world. I think that's the main difference for me in terms of the thematic content and inspiration behind this album - I've been getting more and more interested in balancing surreal and fantastical environmental elements with ordinary and everyday settings.”
RPG upends the concept of the eternal return - we may be in the midst of inevitable repetition, but we tell stories whilst awaiting the passage of time.
"Being familiar with, and a fan of Jayne's earlier work, it was great to get the opportunity to work with her on the production of her new record. I had in mind a sense of what the record might be, but what came of the sessions, led by the vision Jayne had for the record, totally exceeded my expectations. As far as albums go, it has a breadth of writing and a sonic depth that made it a truly brilliant record. Having Jayne join us on a leg of the Pigs x7 tour in April is going to be ace. The creative nature, the sincerity and bold strokes of ME LOST ME put it in that space outside of any genre pigeonholes, and between our two sets I imagine the audience is going to have a proper sonic bath..."
Sam Grant, Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs, 2023
“The music of Me Lost Me is beguiling, idiosyncratic and cinematic - or should that be video-game-omatic? This suite of songscapes often hits the sweet spot between ancient and modern with its masterful blend of stark folk, neon electronic burbling and unusual arrangements. Jayne's singing is refreshingly straightforward and nuanced - it's exquisite! - and perfectly punctures the nebulae of synths and brass which billow around the old wooden frames of the songs. Whilst listening I had images in my mind of what Northumberland might look like through the eyes of Simon Stalenhag - foggy moors, a robot looking across the sea to Lindisfarne, twinkling lights on metal towers.... that sort of thing. It's a really great album.”
Richard Dawson, 2023

Pink Vinyl. The title of the most recent Atmosphere album, May 2023's So Many Other Realities Exist Simultaneously, evokes the multiversal storytelling that's recently vaulted into the mainstream consciousness. With their latest effort, the irrepressible Talk Talk EP, the Minneapolis legends dart across threads of space-time to grab hold of the one where Slug and Ant became titans of the electro-rap that was foundational to their youths. By evoking acts like Kraftwerk and Egyptian Lover, Atmosphere makes visions of the future from four decades ago seem new once again, the relentless forward churn of technological optimism reimagined as an endless loop with irresistible drums. The genesis of the Talk Talk EP was the session for a song of the same name that appeared on So Many Other Realities Exist Simultaneously. A collaboration with Lifter Puller alum Bat Flower, the song "Talk Talk" exists alongside electro classics in an uncanny valley that's been warped into a sweaty nightclub, at once vaguely alien and deeply human. Enamored with the song's outcome, Slug and Ant returned for a longer exploration of the sound, to mesmeric results. The pulsing "Rotary Telephone," where the TV antennas seem tuned to a world just slightly askew from ours, thrives on the tension between Slug's careening vocals and the song's taught structure_form matched perfectly with content. And on "Hear Hear," the struggle to make human connections is revealed as a beautiful one. For all its well-documented roots in disco and R&B, rap's connection to the electronic music of the 1970s and `80s is a core part of its DNA. The Talk Talk EP is one of the clearest articulations of this truth to emerge in many years, a testament to the communal power of programmed sound. For proof, look no further than "Traveling Forever," the haunting missive that closes out the record. Images flash: of police knees on necks, of prying cameraphones, another empty hotel room indistinguishable from the last. "I never got to learn how to dance for you," Slug raps, pointedly. "I don't know whether or not that's an attribute." A chill runs down your spine but the skull at its top keeps nodding.

Um die neuseeländische Reggae-Superstars L.A.B. in Europa vorzustellen, veröffentlicht das Loop-Label ein Best-Of der ersten 5 Alben der Band als exklusiven 10-Track-Vinyl-Sampler.

Circular patterns morphing through time, loop and ritual form the fabric of Proserpine, the latest work by Leeds-based musician, Teresa Winter. Recorded from a summer to a winter through 2021 and 2022, Proserpine is Winter's most cohesive, focused music to date: confidently revelling in space, fixating on isolated sounds and giving way to satisfying, swirling waves of vocal and electronic buzz. Proserpine is Teresa Winter's debut recording for Glasgow-based label, Night School.

On Proserpine, musical patterns revolve and intersect with each other, transmogrifying the music's narrative. Over-arching themes emerge: continual change, elusiveness. Insubstantiality emerges into concrete reality in the form of recognisable field recordings: the purring of a pet cat, the hum of a live cable. The loops and patterns are sometimes just out of sight, the click and whirl on Child Of Nature is the backdrop to hymnal vocalisations by Winter, who intones spell-like text in conversation with herself. On opener Circles, Winter's vocal is pre-linguistic, detached syllables falling into flowing streams, before Plume's field recordings seem to juxtapose nocturnal and diurnal wildlife. "You said I was a Flower Of The Mountain" sings Winter, as James Joyce's Molly Bloom does but the carpe diem desire in Ulysses is dissipated here, spread out by gauzy, droning organs. Here desire is blown up and out, changed into something undefinable but no less powerful.

Change is at the heart of the album. The Roman goddess Proserpine, herself a reimagined version of the earlier Greek goddess Persephone, is always between: between summer and winter, the land of the living and the underworld, constantly emerging into new states of being. It's a fitting metaphor for Winter's work. Like an Apple feels like it soundtracks this in-between state, long, trailing reverb smudging synth keys and Winter's achingly beautiful vocal performance. The effect is stirring but flitting in and out of perception, sometimes Winter's presence feels of this world, of musical instruments and practises and at others it feels like the music is about to phase into a different plane, a different universe.

While Proserpine references the myths and cults of the classical, pre-Christian era, Winter's restless preoccupation with the mechanics of religion informs the album in other ways. Ritual is present through out, either in the mantra-like vocalisations or even the private rituals we are invited to witness: on Fireworks the listener eave drops into the protagonist's private bonfire. On the stunning Lamento, layers of Choral vocal interlock in celestial patterns that recall catholic mass: it's an overt effect that simulates the ecstasy of religious fervour and also reminds the listener of the use of vocal that runs through Proserpine. Winter's vocals often echo with the euphoria of obliteration, of disintegrating in an awful bliss. It's an effect achieved with finality by the closer New Water as the piece begins with voice before burning up in the atmosphere of elegiac violins and enveloping undertows of whirring synth patterns and ghostly pads. Proserpine is forever turning, changing, always elusive and quietly revelatory.

Sistro (Sistrum) is a kind of percussion instrument that has had several incarnations and names in various cultures since the time of the Sumerians and throughout history has always been associated with religious rituals. It’s from this relationship between music and the transcendent that Nuno Oliveira (Nuno O, Judas Triste, José Pinhal Post-Mortem Experience), Tito Silva (Vasco da Ganza, José Pinhal Post-Mortem Experience) and Rodolfo Oliveira (Oficinas TK) were gradually inspired to create a trio that pays homage to this instrument of ancient times.

The project was born casually and without intentionality throughout several incursions into megalithic monuments in the hills and mountains of northern Portugal, culminating in an unusual two-day session of musical experimentation in Esposende, in September 2019. In this two-day session, codenamed “Arménio Sessions”, the trio explored a sound based on sea soundscapes, electronic beats, electric noises and the strings of na altered guitar. Channeling the strength of the elements and the mystique of the place in the form of a musical experience.

In 2021, Sistro collaborated with Mario Klingemann (aka Quasimondo) who created a music video especially for the band, created using a vintage video mixing board. Then using feedback loops and a process that Klingemann calls “Neural Edit”, which uses an artificial intelligence algorithm to correlate the raw video material with the sound.

After a long period of incubation, the group's first full-length release sees the light of day on the 31th October, 2023, moment in which a sequence of rituals begins to present and celebrate the relationship between music and the transcendent. Sistro's debut album will be released by Favela Discos, having been mixed by Tito Silva and mastered by Pedro Augusto. The photography and graphics are by Oficinas TK.

'Of No Fixed Abode' gathers fragmented recordings by the Madrid duo of Pablo Mirón and Juan Vacas, the multi-disciplinary artists behind the collective Real No Real (realnoreal.org) and Ediciones Fontenebro label. Working with field recordings, found materials, instruments such as Violin and Harmonica and by manipulating old radios, turntables and reel to reels the pair have been performing across the world of late taking their collage style process with them. 'Of No Fixed Abode' uses cross-continental sound diaries from the 2019-2022 period and has been central to shows at venues and festivals around Europe and South America.

Contributing to the wider field of post-fluxus 'broken music', the duality of natural sound and decaying, processed tape loops along with gentle instrumentation across the record follows in the footsteps of the Dieter Roth school, Anne Gillis, Leyland Kirby or Henry Krutzen yet is anchored in a charming restraint in which each element seems to fall into place perfectly. Miradasvacas have a long history with presenting experimental music through shows on Madrid's Radio Relativa, concerts and gatherings across the city and self-published mixtapes and sound art, though debut here on 12th Isle with their first proper album. Far-flung gallery sonics at their finest.

Following his first LP "Hafa" released by Soundway Records and a 12inch where he remixed Guts & Les Frères Smith (Pura Vida / Heavenly Sweetness), the nomadic producer iZem continues to blaze his own trail, offering a hybrid of Afro-Brazilian influences and electronic funk. After the release in 2022 of the EP "Yemamaya" composed with the Brazilian LuizGa, which was unanimously acclaimed by the public, he is releasing his second album "in Ze early morning", surrounded by artists and friends who have marked out his journey between South America, Portugal and France.

"in The early morning" is a fusion of musical aesthetics, the fruit of the artist's passionate quest to reveal links between cultures. iZem is constantly on the move, creating songs from loops and ideas initiated on the road, with his laptop as his companion. These first seeds are then developed with musicians from all over the world, to create innovative tracks that blend tropical trip-hop, Afro-Latin music and avant-garde electro beats.

While this may be the first release on Sheffield's Central Processing Unit from Global Goon, the one known to friends and family as Johnny Hawk brings a whole heap of experience to the Nanoclusters mini-LP.

Hawk started dropping Global Goon records on the legendary Rephlex Records back in the 1990s. The project's subsequent releases have taken in imprints as esteemed as WéMè and Balkan. Factor in a whole host of other aliases which have delivered missives via the likes of Planet Mu, and you know even before you press play on this witty, wily record that you're dealing with a master at work here.

The confidence with which Global Goon approaches Nanoclusters shines through in Hawk taking much of the mini-album at midtempo. Cuts like 'Khroxic Mould', 'Metallik' and 'Syntheseers' sound like Bochum Welt heading down a dark alleyway. The former in particular is a seasick lope, the tuned synths lurching around like sailors on deck in a storm as bass ebbs and flows underneath the mix.

The influence of Kraftwerk comes through prominently at times here, particularly in the way 'Calcula' and 'Digit Six' play pensive, slightly sombre synth chords off some simple but effective forward motion in the drum programming. That is not to say that Nanoclusters is not full of invention, though. None of the productions are overly flash, but this approach allows the little details to shine through more clearly, from cleverly panned hi-hats to hissing synth counter-melodies which flit in and out of the mix. Enthralling and packed full of ear candy, they're further evidence that Nanoclusters is the work of an expert craftsman.

While the pulse of Nanoclusters remains relatively steady throughout, it's still a rather lively record. Plenty of these tracks will get the dancefloor moving if deployed correctly - though whether they're heard at home or in the dance, it's the attention to detail which makes them stand out.

'Snapterisk' is as perfect an example of machine-funk as you're likely to find - the drum programming is razor-sharp but rubbery with bongos, the bass a lithe burble, and those wobbly stabs of keys that put a bit of wiggle in the beat? Delightful stuff. Elsewhere the ever-looping arpeggio of 'Metro Esc' has hints of Frankie Knuckles' house classic 'Your Love', though an array of interesting sonic nuggets - snippets of vocal, radar-like bloops, a gently insistent low-end pulse - soften the track's clubbier elements with a pillowy sheen. And Hawk throws us a curveball right at the end of Nanoclusters, tapping back into that old Rephlex sound for the fizzy, braindancing 'Metal Glass'.

Global Goon doesn't need to show off on Nanoclusters - from brilliantly slick machine-funk to Kraftwerkian reveries, the CPU debutant lets the music do the talking here. It makes for a confident and vivacious mini-LP, one which wears its expertise lightly.

RIYL: Cardopusher, Bochum Welt, Cygnus, D'Arcangelo