Search:loops haunt

Joni Void, the artistic persona of Montréal-based French-British producer Jean Néant (he/them) returns to songcraft on their warmest and most welcoming record yet, where the acclaimed sampledelic sound collagist chills out with an emotionally resonant song cycle tinged by downtempo, lo-fi, avant-pop, and trip-hop. Guests include Haco, Ytamo, Sook-Yin Lee, Pink Navel and N NAO. Every Life Is A Light expands on Void's recent stylistic turn towards more languorous and mellow lo-fi production, foreshadowed by the drifting looseness and ambient bricolage of their preceding experimental sound-art record. This transitional sensibility now shapes more defined song structures and styles, with loops are given time and space to unspool, and rhythms shot through the softer-focus lens of trip-hop and dub. Every Life Is A Light swaps the twitchy insistence of Void's acclaimed early albums for a newfound lightness and suppleness, still imbued with all the restlessness, sonic detailing, and emotional resonance that made their name. The neurotic brokenmachine kinetics of earlier Void, summarized by Sasha Geffen as "drawing despair and wonder from within the vast unfeeling of digital communication" in an 8.0 Pitchfork review, may be chilling out, but Void is becoming an ever better conjurer of hauntological feeling. Every Life Is A Light summons this in a comparatively buoyant, benevolent, head-nodding journey more open to tenderness and modest joys. Perhaps it's the sound of Void at greater peace with themselves and the world, despite the bittersweet cost: even as it channels grief, memorializing comrades and companions recently deceased, this album wants light. Void's raw materials continue to draw heavily from samples (their own Walkman cassette fieldrecordings and songs by others) and from a wide community of musical guests. Vocalists Haco on "Time Zone" and Ytamo on "Cloud Level" help levitate what could be lost tracks from a mid-90s Too Pure Records compilation of skewed-lounge electronica. Canadian musician Sook-Yin Lee sings on lead single "Vertigo," a sinewy 80bpm tape-loop and bassline groove propelled by psychedelically-layered lyrics that eventually turn the song in on itself entirely, like Grace Jones' "Nightclubbing" covered by Animal Collective. One of Void's greatest hip-hop loves is the Ruby Yacht collective; charter member Pink Navel drops some brilliant verses on "Story Board." The album's two minimal tracks, an extended piano loop set to a slow beat and shimmering electronics on "Muffin-A Song For My Cat" and the languid sampled bass riff and breakbeat of "Event Flow," are perhaps most overtly `lofi chill.' Indeed the whole album could be said to sit adjacent to those viral (if not already AI-generated) genre trends, which maybe begs the question on a lot of our minds: can specificity and authenticity of musical materials still be heard, still meaningfully signify substance and difference, still matter? Perhaps a question that fades in comparison to the career break Void could catch by landing on generic streaming playlists. More likely, these tracks remain too off-kilter, too genuinely lo-fi and ineffable, and too disqualified by the status of its peasant rights-holders, to catch the algos. Context remains the poor cousin of content. Meanwhile Void marches on, as a tireless organizer of local music events, bouncing around and often living in DIY venue, depending on the latest apartment eviction. With an ubiquitous polaroid camera in tow, they also document each communal happening with a single shot (and often a blinding flash bulb): a memory and metaphor for lives illuminated preciously, singularly, `imperfectly' in the moment. Dozens of these polaroids adorn the album's back cover and inner sleeve art in grid-like montages, as a fitting analog for the careful construction, grainy intimate materiality, and ephemeral feeling of these songs. Every Life Is A Light is Joni Void's most coherent and congenial record while relinquishing none of their experimentalist acumen as a producer or emotional attunement as a composer. Instead these qualities flourish, on an album that lights a humble flame for the fragile promise of homespun creative collaboration as unalienated labour and therapeutic communion, making an enchantingly idiosyncratic contribution to downtempo sample music along the way. Thanks for listening.

For this special release, we’re excited to unveil something brand new: a triple vinyl, perfect for casting a spell on your Halloween night

Witches brew and cauldrons bubble, as Halloween stirs up an eerie trouble! Step into the world of spooky beats with Lofi Girl's 'Halloween 2024' compilation. Featuring talented artists from around the world, this potion of ghostly rhythms and haunting melodies sets the mood for a night of chills and thrills. Whether you're conjuring up potions or unwinding under the moonlit sky, let the witchy magic of these chilling beats take over your Halloween night!

Like a passenger riding shotgun on a road trip, The Villagers Companion offers its own unique perspective and story to tell. Featuring tracks recorded alongside last year’s acclaimed villagers, TVC captures the miles between the start and destination—the faded gas station pit stops, the plastic saint statue stuck to the dashboard for safe travels or luck. It embodies the essence of the journey without the burden of driving—the experience of the ride itself.

The album takes us through the heart of Califone’s magic: reverb-drenched piano chords, electronic whirs, and layers of experimental noise. Guided by Tim Rutili’s abstract, fragmented lyrics—both strange and familiar—delivered through his warm, well-worn vocals, it creates an experience as evocative as it is haunting. Often passing through what seem to be the spaces between radio frequencies, the stations never meant to be heard. Crackles of static, feedback loops, and fleeting signals bloom into meditative moments, with each sound given space to breathe, unravel, and shimmer in slow decay. The result resonates deeply, transforming what might be noise into something profound, hypnotic, and totally immersive.

As with villagers, Rutili and company continue to explore what it means to get lost while surrounded by modern technology. Like a ghost in a machine or a whispered prayer stuck in a telephone line, Califone adds soul—be it damned or saved. And they do so with the kind of transformative magic granted perhaps only to artists a quarter of a century into their craft. The kind that turns a photograph into a tableau, or any darkened space with a microphone into a makeshift confessional. A song into a hymn, and a hymn into a soundtrack to a life.

Like a passenger riding shotgun on a road trip, The Villagers Companion offers its own unique perspective and story to tell. Featuring tracks recorded alongside last year’s acclaimed villagers, TVC captures the miles between the start and destination—the faded gas station pit stops, the plastic saint statue stuck to the dashboard for safe travels or luck. It embodies the essence of the journey without the burden of driving—the experience of the ride itself.

The album takes us through the heart of Califone’s magic: reverb-drenched piano chords, electronic whirs, and layers of experimental noise. Guided by Tim Rutili’s abstract, fragmented lyrics—both strange and familiar—delivered through his warm, well-worn vocals, it creates an experience as evocative as it is haunting. Often passing through what seem to be the spaces between radio frequencies, the stations never meant to be heard. Crackles of static, feedback loops, and fleeting signals bloom into meditative moments, with each sound given space to breathe, unravel, and shimmer in slow decay. The result resonates deeply, transforming what might be noise into something profound, hypnotic, and totally immersive.

As with villagers, Rutili and company continue to explore what it means to get lost while surrounded by modern technology. Like a ghost in a machine or a whispered prayer stuck in a telephone line, Califone adds soul—be it damned or saved. And they do so with the kind of transformative magic granted perhaps only to artists a quarter of a century into their craft. The kind that turns a photograph into a tableau, or any darkened space with a microphone into a makeshift confessional. A song into a hymn, and a hymn into a soundtrack to a life.

Repress!

Just six months after her huge Rave On Time EP, Charlotte de Witte is back on her own KNTXT label with another standout release featuring three thrilling new tracks.

Despite the global pandemic, Charlotte did not let up in 2020. Her label continued to serve up techno from the cutting edge, she held down various high profile streams during lockdown and also got voted as the World's Number 1 DJ by DJ Mag's Alternative Top 100 poll. After picking up the Best Producer title at the Red Bull Elektropedia Awards, her Selected EP picked up the silver medal in the Best EP category and she was awarded bronze in the Artist of the Year category. She ended the year with a spectacular set on the virtual Main Stage of Tomorrowland on New Year’s Eve and now races out of the blocks with yet another vital EP.

Says Charlotte, "I've always been fascinated by the high adrenaline racing world. Rapid movements, living in the moment, racing through life, eyes on the future. As far as concepts go for an EP, this is one of my favourite ones so far."

That plays out across the electrifying tracks, starting with ‘Doppler,' a heavyweight techno weapon with shuffling drums and urgent alarm like synths shooting over the bulky groove. It's one to keep you on edge as the strobes flash on a vast dance floor. 'RPM' ups the ante further with blistering acid lines flashing about the mix. Rooted drums roll on in unrelenting fashion and a lead synth takes you down a deep, dark rabbit hole. 'Formula' then rounds out in urgent fashion with the sound of revving engines, hammering hits and haunting melodic loops all making for a vast and vital wall of techno sound.

With this arresting and powerful new EP, Charlotte de Witte once again remains in techno's pole position.

M.I.T.A. makes his debut on FJAAK's CROWD label with the highly anticipated Night Owl EP, a fresh offering that sees the producer delving deep into his signature sound, blending intricate rhythms, atmospheric textures and hard-hitting beats to create an immersive journey through the nocturnal world. The Night Owl EP unfolds across four meticulously crafted tracks, opening with the title track listeners are plunged into a brooding soundscape characterized by pulsating basslines and haunting melodies, embodying the enigmatic energy of the night. 'Ego Bash' follows, delivering a high-octane groove infused with relentless percussion and electrifying dynamics, a track destined to ignite the dance floor. On the flip side, 'Broadcast Chatter' takes a more experimental route, weaving intricate sonic details and hypnotic loops into a piece that commands attention with its depth and complexity. Rounding out the EP is 'Venus of Intensity', a visceral and emotive closing track that builds to a crescendo of raw power, leaving listeners in awe of M.I.T.A.'s ability to balance intensity with elegance. With Night Owl, M.I.T.A. cements his place as one of the most exciting names in the Italian contemporary electronic scene. This EP not only highlights his skillful production but also his artistic vision - whether experienced in the dark corners of a club or through headphones on a late-night drive, Night Owl promises to leave a lasting impression.

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.

Lamina is the moniker of multi-disciplinary French artist Clarice Calvo-Pinsolle. 'Olas Curativas' is Calvo-Pinsolle's first vinyl release. Taking influence from the natural world, works of hydrofeminism, and experiences with hypnotism, Calvo-Pinsolle prolifically performs and records her own refreshing take on ambient music alongside working as an established installation artist. She has previously released two full-length albums on Orila Records & Complex Holidays, as well as a joint LP with Kitchen Cynics, and a collaboration project with Bear Bones Lay Low under the moniker XAXI. Her discography is fleshed out by various contributions to compilations, including the opening track 'Soupire' on Twin System's 'Tendrils Lurched Purple In The Slush' tape series. Radio play of Laminas music includes Graham Dunning / NTS, Emil Mirzoev/ Kiosk Radio, Laura de Diaz / CAMPO BASE, xYsse / Radio Vacarme, Melina Despretz / Kiosk Radio, Chris Penty Alvarez / Noods Radio, Leoni Leoni / Radio Alhara, Laura Connant / Ola Radio, Bravo Tounky / Rootradio. Performances of material from 'Olas Curativas' include shows at Cafe Oto / London, Cosmos / Lisboa, TV Control Center / Athens, Iklektic / London, Braille Satellite / Lithuania, Slug Gallery / Leipzig, Spazio X / Treviso, Krut Festival / Ghent, Schiev Festival / Brussels, Woodblocks Festival / Brussels.


'Olas Curativas' was developed and written in 2022, with these pieces first heard as live jams at shows mainly around Brussels and Portugal, before being honed into this mesmeric full-length LP. Calvo-Pinsolle's effective use of manipulated field recordings and tape loops provide a backdrop for harmony that leans towards the mystical, brimming with melodies equal parts haunting and enchanting. Alongside harvesting a sound library over the past several years, Calvo-Pinsolle has developed an approach to composition using field recordings that informs both her musical and sculptural work. These recordings are transformed much like the ceramics seen in the record artwork; shaped, chiseled, and transformed. These ceramics were crafted and painted by Calvo-Pinsolle herself, and hints at this bridge between her two disciplines of music and sculpture. Although an expansive realm, throughout Calvo-Pinsolle's output there are consistent moods and qualities that are absolutely distinctive to this artist's creative worldview, and of which 'Olas Curativas' is a perfect encapsulation.

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.

Jonas Munk closes his ambient trilogy with mammoth drone pieces, multi-layered guitars and hymnal krautrock. "Mirror Phase" concludes a trilogy of minimal ambient albums in Munk's (Causa Sui) own name. These eight compositions, based on guitar and synthesizer loops, marks a return to the warmer sounds Munk is often associated with. Sonic structures that slowly and gradually evolves and changes, like cloud formations in the sky. The title track, "Mirror Phase", is Munk's most expansive drone opus so far. It's a carefully arranged piece where sounds that oscillates with the same interval, but at different phases, are continuously added, hence creating shifting patterns throughout the track's nearly 18 minute duration. Elsewhere, in "Transition", multi-layered guitars creates the sonic equivalent of waves gently splashing on the shore. "At a Distance" creates a haunting, and hypnotic, soundscape by using slightly out-of-tune analog synthesizers, summoning the transcendent krautrock of Popol Vuh. And "Rise", as well as the closing track, "Return to Nowhere", recalls the glistening sounds of his Manual releases. "Mirror Phase" might just be Munk's ambient oeuvre reaching its zenith. The CD edition comes with an extra CD with Jonas Munk's 2021 album, "Altered Light", which has previously only been released on digital download and streaming.

Honour's debut album is a ligament stretching from Lagos to London and to New York, curling across the diaspora and brushing the darker hues of blues, hip-hop, free jazz, ambient, gospel with Christian mythology and Yoruba folklore. As cinematic as it is painterly, Alàáfíà is a meditation on themes of life, death and love that pulls inspiration from the unexpected poetic profundity of casual conversations, field recordings, literature, ephemera, or personal archives. The result is an impressionistic vision in Black and Blur that both exhausts and implicates language_substantiating a mythos proposed by Fred Moten that sublimates boundaries between everywhere and nowhere; history and the present; the individual and the universal. Alàáfíà delineates a gothic landscape cut by overdriven beats, swooping orchestral blasts, choral bursts and ear- splitting fuzz, where the fleshly and spiritual realms commune. Dedicated to Honour's late grandmother, the title track began to take form after their last embrace and remains steeped in her influence and spirit_a tape-saturated composition that starts in Lagos and ends in London's smoke-stained cityscape, the song's dream-like quality developed out of the artist's grief and PTSD coping with this loss. Beneath the stretched guitar drones and stuttering loops, their grandmother's shared faith bubbles to the surface. "When Angels Speak of Love," borrows its title from two works by Sun Ra and bell hooks, respectively. Sculpting echoes of praise music into disorienting spirals perforated with syrupy DJ Screw-inspired breaks and sharp splinters of melancholic guitar, "When Angels Speak of Love" engages a conceptual dialogue with the spirits of both late thinkers, folding them into Honour's pantheon of ancestral guides. The album's ninth track, "Giz Aard ($uckets)," is a dirge of regimented drums which anchor this somber melody as it whirls into a blizzard of heartache, uncertain if its consequence will be death or eternal joy. The album's sole lyrical offering, "Pistol Poem (Lead Belly)," begins with a darkly humorous bar, "He went thru hell and back/ came back/ 2 get the strap," that swells into a haunting allegory based on the life of Philip "Hot Sauce" Champion. A modern take on the Blues, Honour's lyrics reify the artist's status as a student of both literature and popular culture, crossbreeding the artist's clever wordplay with additional references to Richard Pryor, Robert Johnson, Kelly Rowland & Bryon Gysin. Setting core principles of hip-hop, R&B, jazz and gospel music to atemporal soundscapes and compositions, Honour crafts a record that marinates in its own knotty contradictions. The ghosts that sit on the artist's shoulders have never been more tangible than with this emotive debut.

Thandii (aka Jessica Berry, Graham Godfrey) first made waves with their debut album A Beat To Make It Better in 2023. The album gained somewhat cult critical acclaim long after its release, with listeners luxuriating in the unusual sound collaged from offcuts of Soul, Lo-fi Hiphop & Psych. Thandii’s world comes bolstered by collaborations with esteemed artists such as Michael Kiwanuka, Inflo, SAULT, Joy Crookes, Jordan Rakei, and Little Simz. The duo’s sophomore offering comes in the form of two companion albums Dream With You & Come As You. The two albums make up a single conceptual statement celebrating dissonance, contradiction, polarity and opposition.

The pair believe that binary thinking has a lot to answer for in today’s world and is often used to divide us as a people. ‘We wanted to explore what it felt like to hold disparate notions in both hands whilst making the music. Starting with the title tracks, we explored the idea of unashamedly being your authentic self in every moment - this is admirable for those that can live their life in an uncompromising way. In contrast to that idea, we explored those moments where we perhaps wished we were more than our reality - a dreamed up, imagined self’. It’s no surprise that duality is central to what Thandii is all about with the pair co-writing, co-recording & co-producing from their seaside studio HaloHalo in Margate, Kent.

The albums each have a distinct flavour of their own. Dream With You is built on cassette-tape-driven lofi beats, art-pop melodies and soulful piano breaks. Whilst Come As You explores more experimental song-form that wouldn’t seem out of place on Tender Buttons - Broadcast or Dots And Loops - Stereolab. Jessica’s voice is the transcendent, ethereal form that shapeshifts between the realms of the two statements; dancing playfully through falsetto harmonies, confessional spoken word, detuned alter egos and haunting choirs. Key collaborators on the albums include bass player Jonathan Harvey and pianist Steve Pringle, both members of Margate’s burgeoning Arts scene. Thandii escaped London nearly a decade ago, their sights set on creating a means for prolific expression, without the distractions that the city can bring. The albums find them in an exploratory stage, throwing paint at the canvas with joyful abandon, gifting themselves permission for uncensored expression. The LPs muse on relationships - romantic, platonic & familial - community, self-worth, self love, healing and boundaries, at times from differing perspectives. This contrast of opinion makes for rich listening throughout a vast emotional landscape

Thandii (aka Jessica Berry, Graham Godfrey) first made waves with their debut album A Beat To Make It Better in 2023. The album gained somewhat cult critical acclaim long after it’s release, with listeners luxuriating in the unusual sound collaged from offcuts of Soul, Lo-fi Hiphop & Psych. Thandii’s world comes bolstered by collaborations with esteemed artists such as Michael Kiwanuka, Inflo, SAULT, Joy Crookes, Jordan Rakei, and Little Simz. The duo’s sophomore offering comes in the form of two companion albums Dream With You & Come As You. The two albums make up a single conceptual statement celebrating dissonance, contradiction, polarity and opposition.

The pair believe that binary thinking has a lot to answer for in today’s world and is often used to divide us as a people. ‘We wanted to explore what it felt like to hold disparate notions in both hands whilst making the music. Starting with the title tracks, we explored the idea of unashamedly being your authentic self in every moment - this is admirable for those that can live their life in an uncompromising way. In contrast to that idea, we explored those moments where we perhaps wished we were more than our reality - a dreamed up, imagined self’. It’s no surprise that duality is central to what Thandii is all about with the pair co-writing, co-recording & co-producing from their seaside studio HaloHalo in Margate, Kent.

The albums each have a distinct flavour of their own. Dream With You is built on cassette-tape-driven lofi beats, art-pop melodies and soulful piano breaks. Whilst Come As You explores more experimental song-form that wouldn’t seem out of place on Tender Buttons - Broadcast or Dots And Loops - Stereolab. Jessica’s voice is the transcendent, ethereal form that shapeshifts between the realms of the two statements; dancing playfully through falsetto harmonies, confessional spoken word, detuned alter egos and haunting choirs.

Alliyah Enyo’s genius 2022 ‘Echo's Disintegration’ album infused William Basinski's "Disintegration Loops" with choral smoke, and she now returns with an even more immersive followup alongside ambient enigma and Kelela producer Florian T M Zeisig, making heady and translucent loop-finding vocal soundscapes.

In 2022, Enyo worked with the Edinburgh Sculpture Workshop on an epic two-hour composition made from tape loops inspired by selkies, mythical creatures in Celtic folklore. Contemplating memory, grief and time itself, Enyo devised a "sonorous myth" installation and performance that drowned her voice in the deep sea, using echo to help parallel the communication of humpback whales. It was powerful enough for her to net the award for Sonic Arts at the Scottish Awards for New Music last year, and it's this material that she revisits here, entering into a dialog with Berlin-based producer Florian T M Zeisig, here adopting a new avatar - Angel R.

On the A-side, Enyo distills two hours of the original composition into 11 haunted fragments that ooze in and out of each other like a dream. Reworked at Glasgow's Green Door studio, she sculpts her voice into weightless Radigue-style incantations, leaning into the tape loops' corroded inconsistencies. Enyo's voice becomes the selkie's song: wordless echoes that sound as if they're being dragged slowly towards the sea bed. There are remnants of folk forms in there; we hear traces of church music and Celtic ballads - but she obscures her influences with dubbed reverb, distortion and repetition. Phrases disappear and re-appear, time becomes a loop, best absorbed in a single sitting to properly perceive its graceful, sinking bliss. By the end of the side, Enyo’s vocals are completely waterlogged, dimmed against Robin Guthrie-like shimmers, all brassy, blurred incantations emanating from the depths of a floatation tank.

Florian T M Zeisig responds on the B-side with three flooded, longer-form pieces that will appeal to anyone who devoured his album of corroded Enya loops a couple of years ago. Enyo's voice is now reduced to a whisper, blistered and gauzy expressions that float over dense pads on 'Untitled I' before getting lost in the weeds completely on the muggy 'Untitled II'. On the closing 'Gates of Heaven', he sculpts Enyo's voice until it's just an illusory, hypnotic reflection, slow-fading into the aether.

"Vanatühi" by Kiwanoid is a technopagan concept album. Track titles refer to the word "nothing" in various languages.
The sonic landscape is crafted using deprecated tools: a first-generation 4-bit laptop, the DOS operating system, and a tracker program. Inspired by glitch aesthetics, the sound palette includes clicks, error noises, and low-bitrate techno sounds. Initially, the structures of the pieces may appear complex and chaotic. This electronic thicket might seem abstract, cold, and inaccessible, yet upon closer examination, it reveals a plethora of diverse species, coming across as somewhat nostalgic and warm, evoking surreal associations. From beneath towering sequoias peek pixelated ferns, LED eyes are blinking from below the undergrowth, and against the backdrop of a crackling campfire and cave paintings, a lively stomping of microchips unfolds.
Sudden contrasts, sharp cutting edges, a tachycardic bass drum engine, and irregular polyrhythms make themselves physically felt. Elsewhere, haunting lo-fi textures, hidden ambient drones, mysterious hums, and obscurely garbled samples offer introspective breathers. The dynamic range of the music is favourably extensive, and the raw imperfections of the sound are unmasked by reverb effects or other generic tools. Interwoven throughout are outsider rhythm loops, which could find a home at an alien rave party or a hobgoblin honky-tonk. Various human voice samples build a bridge to the listener, allowing them to embody a cyborg-like experience.

While each twist and turn remains unpredictable, these diverse approaches align in complementary patterns and stochastic regularities, making the whole surprisingly coherent, despite its chaos. The album doesn't bore the audience with intentionally irritating compositions or pseudocomplexity - it demands attention, but doesn't try to outrun its listeners.

Kompakt is proud to announce, finally, a reissue of the first, self-titled GAS album. Originally released on electronica imprint Mille Plateaux back in 1996, it’s been unavailable in its original form ever since – the version of GAS included in 2008’s Nah Und Fern box featured several different tracks. Here, however, GAS is restored in all its glory, the debut full-length from Wolfgang Voigt’s most enigmatic, quixotic project.

There had, of course, been signs of what was to come. Back in 1995, Voigt essayed the first GAS release, a slender, yet remarkable four-track EP, Modern. Its centre label featured a reduced symbol – an overhead or lamp light, switched on, its glow radiating outwards in four bold black lines – a perfect representation of the tight, stylised ambient electronic pop contained on that 12”. A few curious compilation tracks were floating around, too, for Mille Plateaux’s Modulation & Transformation and Electric Ladyland series. If you were attentive enough, you could tell something was up.

But nothing quite prepared us for the languorous, effervescing loops and regular-like-clockwork beats that Voigt folded together on GAS. Its six long tracks, all untitled, neither begin nor end but hazily fade into earshot, vibrate majestically in your cochlea for fifteen-or-so minutes – some a bit shorter, some longer – and then meander away, reading the mise-en-scène for the next example of Voigt’s drift and dream logic to unfold. The material is referential in the most distant way, and you can sense only the most evanescent of ghostly presences, haunting these six compositions.

GAS feels, also, like a more pliable hint at what’s to come, as the GAS concept really solidified on its successor, 1997’s Zauberberg, and reach its apotheosis on Königsforst and Pop. Those three albums share a very similar palette – blurred, hazy samples, often of classical music, stacked and cross-thatched across a muted 4/4 thud. GAS, then, is an outlier of sorts: it’s more expansive in its remit, lighter in its mood, perhaps more fleet of foot. This, of course, is part of its charm.

In clearing space for Voigt, by preparing the terrain, GAS sits both at the edge of the forest, and at the verge of an expansive, wide-eyed future; one where GAS would become truly eternal.

Text by Jonathan Dale

Kompakt ist stolz, endlich eine Neuauflage des ersten, selbstbetitelten GAS-Albums ankündigen zu können. Ursprünglich im Jahr 1996 auf dem Electronica-Label Mille Plateaux veröffentlicht, ist es seitdem nicht mehr in seiner ursprünglichen Form erhältlich – die gleichnamige Version von GAS, die 2008 in der Nah Und Fern Box enthalten war, enthielt verschiedene andere Titel. Nun liegt das 3er Album in seinem naturbelassenen Originalzustand wieder vor.

Bereits 1995 zeichnete sich mit der Maxi GAS - Modern auf Profan, sowie einigen Kompilation-Beiträgen auf Modulation & Transformation und Electric Ladyland auf Mille Plateaux dieser frühe, weltentrückte, rätselhafte GAS Sound ab, der sich erst in den sechs scheinbar endlosen, majestätisch-sprudelnden Tracks des Albums voll entfaltete. Die Musik ist von ätherischer Leichtigkeit, in der wie aus einer anderen Sphäre abstrakte Referenzen aus weiter Ferne nur andeutungsweise herüberzuwehen scheinen.

Dieser frühe, eher sphärisch-leichte, gleich einer sonnendurchfluteten (Wald-)Lichtung anmutende GAS Sound, stellt gewissermaßen den Ausgangspunkt der audiovisuellen „Welt“-Reise in den düster-romantischen Acid-Wald dar, in den sich GAS ab 1997 mit den Alben Zauberberg, Königsforst, Oktember und ab 2000 mit Pop an anderer Stelle wieder hinaus und in seine ganz eigene Ewigkeit begeben hat.

Polycarp boss Simon Ferdinand delivers the cinematic electronica ‘Six Months’ EP in 2024, recorded across this time period and influenced by travels to Sicily, Baltimore and Zanzibar.

Hamburg, Germany’s Polycarp is the brainchild of Simon Ferdinand and has been active as a platform for the music of Simon under his own name, Basch and their music together as Bonn, as well as further notable artists such as Tilman and Johannes Albert. Here, Ferdinand returns to the imprint with another solo sonic adventure, traversing through a range of emotions and influences with elements of glitch, ambient, electro, breaks, EBM and more instilled within the project.

‘Broken’ leads the release and sets the tone through an amalgamation of hazy, glitched out jazz loops obscured and processed throughout. Title-track ‘Six Months’ then shifts towards a more ethereal deep house aesthetic with cossetting textures, stuttering synth
chords, elongated bass drones and jazzy organic drums. ‘In The Lab’ follows next and sees Basch join forces with Simon to create a haunting slice of broken beat deepness fuelled by murky low-end pulsations, saturated drums and gritty stab sequences.
First up on the flip-side is ‘The Beginning’, shifting gears towards classic electro tropes with boomy 808’s, unfurling arpeggios and twitchy resonant synth bleeps before ‘Santa Maria’ rounds out the release with a contemporary electronica feel, fusing fluttering square wave bass lines, crisp amen breaks and intricately intertwined textural elements.

Part of a (very) loose but somewhat like minded kaleidoscope where one can trace something like a Portuguese hauntology, centred around labels like Russian Library or Prisma Sonora Records, Alexandre Centeio joins Discrepant with the surefire release of 'Panorama'. A multi-instrumentalist and sound artist based in Porto, Centeio - who is also part of Stellarays and The Murmurous Playground - delivers his second album under his own name after 2022's 'Movanta'.

Signalling a departure from the intimate synth driven beautifully soothing landscapes of 'Movanta' while still working within a realm where space and memory play a significant part of both escapism and connection, 'Panorama' opens itself up to a "surrealistic soundscape filled with real and dreamt sound", perfectly illustrated by Ruca Bourbon’s artwork. A sonic fiction conjured from a variety of sources - hand drums, disembodied voices, scraps of unknown realities, skewed loops, oneiric collages, flutes, spectral synths - that float freely between disruption and continuity but within their own internal logic. A very particular and hallucinatory one at that, mind ya. Collapsing notions of time and geography in an aural canvas totally aligned with Discrepant's ethos. 'Panorama' indeed.

Some Female:Pressure right here with the latest NVST release; Silence Itself Is Noise! This is her debut for SSPB delivering a 6 track ep which are a reflection of her adventurous club sets, a well-balanced mix of powerful beats and expansive atmospheres haunted by skittering echoes of the dancefloor. Each track feels like fleeting memories of the club filtered through the human experience - flickering moments illuminated by strobes and shrouded in smoke, laced with the tang of sweat and psychedelics. Opener "Tiny Mistakes Feeling HOT (Hellisnotamyth version)" coalesces from curling vapors into infernal acid lines and rhythmic fragments that evaporate almost as soon as they appear. "The Devil Loves The Detail (Lucifer's Fire Version)" builds into an inescapable pulse amidst frayed synthesizers, pressure building to fever pitch before "The Danger Zone Of GFY (Freedom Version)" opens out into icy, astral synths. "Monster of Business (Style Edition)" shifts closer to the dancefloor with a slinking, syncopated groove, conversations from the smoking area or studio creeping in at the edges, before erupting into the frazzled bounce of "The Goat and the Night." "The Silence Itself is Noise (Nonstop Bass Version)" loops back once again to more cavernous atmospheres, warped bells and strafing melodic flourishes ringing out amidst fizzing distortion and skeletal percussion. Silence Itself is Noise doesn't clamour for attention, it necessitates it. Once again, NVST proves herself unafraid to challenge club orthodoxy, and unwilling to patronize listeners, instead making deft use of tension and release to create genuine moments of surprise and transcendence.

Lady Tazz's Mind Medizin label welcomes Marcal for an adventurous new techno two-tracker.

Brazilian-born and based, Marcal has now reached a global audience with his spellbinding techno and haunting atmospherics. His intelligently designed sounds on labels like Rekids Special Projects have found favour with everyone from Charlotte de Witte to Richie Hawtin. He has built a local scene in his hometown of Goiânia and now lands on the forward-thinking Mind Medizin label.

Opener 'Infectious' is a mind-altering and wonky techno workout. The unbalanced synths warp and wrap around each other to dynamic effect, while oversized hi-hats ramp up the pressure. The drums hit hard and it results in supple, stylish and high impact backroom techno. The equally excellent 'LambdaCore' is more dark and glitchy, with scraping hits and scuffed-up kicks. The textured sound designs really bring this track alive as ghoulish vocals and hyposonic loops take you down a late-night techno tunnel.

This is a brilliant brace of muscular and emotive techno tunes.

David Eugene Edwards has always been larger than life. His music with innovative heavy droning folk band Wovenhand, and before that the haunting revivification of high lonesome sound antique Americana of 16 Horsepower breathed a near apocalyptic sense of urgency and power into musical archetypes long abandoned in the latter-20th Century. On his first-ever solo album under his own name, Hyacinth, David Eugene Edwards delivers a sound uniquely his own, with a vulnerability and introspection unheard from him before. Stripping back the heavy rock of his recent work with Wovenhand, Hyacinth puts the man's voice, and sparing instrumentation into the main focus. There's a somber beauty and world-weary tone throughout these songs. The album could've been considered a slight return to the more melodic sounds of 16 Horsepower's Secret South (2000) and the first, self-titled Wovenhand album (2002). But there's more going on here: a rhythmic, pulsating undercurrent reminiscent of the tape loops and rudimentary rhythms of 80s Industrial post-punk as well as 808 Drill Style beats. The overall effect is often as if we're hearing the clock ticking away our own mortality. "Hyacinth was a sort of vision," Edwards says. "A dream. I sought out of my old wooden banjo and nylon string guitar a hidden path. Secrets they had kept from me within themselves all these years and created a new Mythos to myself of philosophical and spiritual ideas or concepts." Once he'd harnessed the music within, he enlisted multi-instrumentalist and producer Ben Chisholm (The Armed, Chelsea Wolfe, Converge) to help him realize the album's recording and mix. "Overall, the album is a weaving of narratives ancient and modern, of humankind's search for understanding of this world we find ourselves in and of each other. In all its simplicity and complexity," Edwards continues. "Hyacinth is a reference to the Greek myth of Apollo. And, the word meaning a precious stone and blue larkspur flower of purple and pall."

David Eugene Edwards has always been larger than life. His music with innovative heavy droning folk band Wovenhand, and before that the haunting revivification of high lonesome sound antique Americana of 16 Horsepower breathed a near apocalyptic sense of urgency and power into musical archetypes long abandoned in the latter-20th Century. On his first-ever solo album under his own name, Hyacinth, David Eugene Edwards delivers a sound uniquely his own, with a vulnerability and introspection unheard from him before. Stripping back the heavy rock of his recent work with Wovenhand, Hyacinth puts the man's voice, and sparing instrumentation into the main focus. There's a somber beauty and world-weary tone throughout these songs. The album could've been considered a slight return to the more melodic sounds of 16 Horsepower's Secret South (2000) and the first, self-titled Wovenhand album (2002). But there's more going on here: a rhythmic, pulsating undercurrent reminiscent of the tape loops and rudimentary rhythms of 80s Industrial post-punk as well as 808 Drill Style beats. The overall effect is often as if we're hearing the clock ticking away our own mortality. "Hyacinth was a sort of vision," Edwards says. "A dream. I sought out of my old wooden banjo and nylon string guitar a hidden path. Secrets they had kept from me within themselves all these years and created a new Mythos to myself of philosophical and spiritual ideas or concepts." Once he'd harnessed the music within, he enlisted multi-instrumentalist and producer Ben Chisholm (The Armed, Chelsea Wolfe, Converge) to help him realize the album's recording and mix. "Overall, the album is a weaving of narratives ancient and modern, of humankind's search for understanding of this world we find ourselves in and of each other. In all its simplicity and complexity," Edwards continues. "Hyacinth is a reference to the Greek myth of Apollo. And, the word meaning a precious stone and blue larkspur flower of purple and pall."

"Multila" was the third album by Finnish producer Sasu Ripatti under the moniker Vladislav Delay. It compiles the "Huone" and "Ranta" 12"EPs Ripatti released on Basic Channel's Chain Reaction label in 1999 and 2000. The album features six hauntingly murky dub ambient tracks and the impressive 22-minute techno odyssey "Huone."

More than 20 years after its original release as a full-length CD album (Chain Reaction), these iconic recordings of modern electronic music are now available again as a double vinyl edition, featuring a revised artwork by Marc Hohmann that matches the new design of the "Whisteblower" and "Entain" reissues.

"Life films us exactly. Our experience of it, though, lies beyond images and descriptions. Emotions, coming in irrational flashes, are non-figurable. We lose our little connection to them very quickly. We look for forms which promise to take us to our own experience. We construct forms with this in mind: that they can take us to meet the subconscious. Multila's construction is principled this way. Fragments of experience, moments without definition or localisation are captured within tiny fragments of time and then within one's mindspace. We can look into it and see that experience has left some of its data to us. As we receive it, again and again, we are connected and reconnected to certain indefinable moments. Both during and after its recording, Multila is a tool to learn about the unintentional states of us. It is a way to see our own emotional loops. Multila is a soundtrack for vision." - Vladislav Delay in the year 2000

- Panda Bear, Voice of the Seven Woods, Mammane Sanni Abdoulaye. File under: Jazz / Electronic. Titi Bakorta almost didn't make it. Born in and raised in Kinshasa, the Congolese multi-instrumentalist was on his way to Uganda when he fell off the boat as it traversed the mighty Congo River. Unable to swim, Bakorta was saved by a friend who dragged him to the closest city Kisangani, where he was unexpectedly acquainted with local singer Dancer Papalas. Soon they were performing in bands together, traveling across the continents and settling in Tanzania, South Sudan and Dubai - they even appeared in front of General Defao, the beloved Congolese vocalist who fronted legendary soukous bands Grand Zaiko Wawa, Choc Stars and Big Stars. Now based in Kampala, Bakorta offers his own unique take on Congolese pop and folk sounds, weaving traditional elements through a psychedelic lattice of guitar loops, mangled voices and eccentric beatbox rhythms on his debut full-length. He bends woodblock snaps on 'Kop' into stuttered blurs, wailing emotionally over twanging riffs and bizarre, theatrical xylophone twinkles. It's still pop music on some level, but curved around Bakorta's unwieldy personal narrative - there's a sense that everything could unravel at any time but it all hangs together, strengthened by Bakorta's confident, contemporary production smarts. 'Elles Vais' is more airy, with celestial soukous vocals that float above tight, electronic drums. Tangled guitar echoes overlap each other like dense, weaved tapestries, contrasting perfectly with Bakorta's urgent, driving pulse. Occasionally, he transcends completely, like on 'Molende' where his chants and phrases neatly flutter between praise music and contemporary R&B. "Hustling, hustling, hustling, everyday I'm hustling," an angelic voice coos over phased electric guitar plucks and looped, AutoTuned chorals. It makes perfect sense that Bakorta should team up with Metal Preyers' Jesse Hackett on the album's final track, the aptly-titled 'Titis Haunted House'. The two artists share a similar obsession with moonlit, carnivalesque soundscapes, and Hackett's eerie synths provide a suitably eccentric foundation for Bakorta's ghostly wails and fuzzy guitar sounds.

Richie Culver had been waiting his whole life to record I was born by the sea. His debut album immediately and messily inscribed the artist into the canon of outsider music and experimental electronics, serving both as an arresting statement of intent and a painful reckoning with the difficult path that lead up to it, stealing one last glance back at a place he always knew he had to escape. Between grim lamentations, faded memories and anxiety attacks, all told with searing honesty and disarming openness, I was born by the sea excavates a space for hope, finding Culver digging through Humberside silt to find a world weary optimism, the raw material from which his visual and sound art is shaped. For this collection of expansions and inversions, Culver invites a collection of kindred spirits, contemporary inspirations and old heroes to wade into the salt water of his formative years spent living for impromptu raves and afterparties, connecting vivid memories of his birth place of Withernsea to artists hailing from as nearby as Preston and Bridlington, further afield, from Manchester and London, Berlin and Paris, before returning back to Hull, to where it all began.

For some, responding to I was born by the sea means diving even deeper into the record’s furthest reaches. Space Afrika clear away the pummelling loops of noise from ‘It’s hard to get to know you,’ revealing a cool and cavernous expanse in its wake. Distant chatter, previously heard as though through thin, plasterboard walls, now echoes from outside the maddening claustrophobia of the original’s Sisyphean sonics, illuminated as a dense storm cloud suspended amidst a more open scene, washed clean by a lighter rain, allowing the tender heart of the track to beat clear. London producer MOBBS stretches out ‘Pigeon Flesh’ into an epic, 10-minute, cold-sweat spiral, strung-out tension wrung from disconnected phone tones twisted in unexpected directions, snatches of Culver’s voice turned inside-out and deep fried bass threatening to tip the track over into oblivion, the build-and-release of a nervous breakdown experienced in real time. In an act of subversive self-reflection, Morgane Polanski switches one kind of ennui for another in her adaption of ‘I was born by the sea,’ swapping the sea for the city, English seaside towns in January for summer evenings in Paris and flashing lighthouses and sparkling oil rigs for the Eiffel Tower and the traffic around L’Arc de Triomphe. Even Culver finds time to revisit ‘Dream About Yourself,’ a track taken from his EP Post Traumatic Fantasy, breathing new words into its glacial drift, the half-remembered testimony of a shut-in: Woke up in the evening / Pray for me / Don’t trust anyone / Pray for algorithm. Reframed in a more melancholy light, the track’s reverberant keys even more clearly evoke a mournful nostalgia, fresh pain felt in old wounds.

Others find a parallel universe in Culver’s visceral world building. Rainy Miller flips the script with a scorched, avant-drill rework of ‘Daytime TV’, threading puncturing hi-hats and queasy low-end surge through the track’s steady ambient cascade, invoking the irresistible Preston beat magic of Miller’s own essential debut album, Desquamation. Aho Ssan melts away the crystalline textures of ‘Love Like an Abscess’ with the ominous crackle of a nascent fire, building through swathes of organic Max/MSP squelch and brittle, nails-down-chalkboard scrape, swelling and metastasising the original to spill over Culver’s desperate hymn to corporeal desire, at once flesh and not. Teresa Winter transports us an hour up the coast from Withernsea to her native Bridlington, replacing the sea wall of synthesis on ‘Nervous Energy’ with muffled ASMR murk and fever dream whispers, transforming Culver’s unflinching observations into a haunting call-and-response, filling in the blanks with her own eerie utterances, a fleeting conversation with a ghost. In a touching victory lap, Fila Brazillia, eccentric stalwarts of beloved ‘90s trip hop imprint Pork Recordings, whose performances at Hull institution The Lamp convinced a young Culver of the necessity to make his mark on club culture, resurface for their first remix in 20 years. Steve Cobby and David McSherry lead a low-slung, heartfelt stroll back through a suite of tracks from I was born by the sea, tracing a full circle saunter from Culver’s origins to his current musical practice, the sounds of his present repurposed by the sound of his youth. In a gesture that reflects the emotional complexity of the project, Fila Brazillia find joy at the end of Culver’s troubled reflection, picking out an undeniable groove in the stasis of feeling trapped in your hometown. Underlining Hull’s vital musical legacy, from Baby Mammoth to Throbbing Gristle, Cobby and McSherry demonstrate that, though there are certainly storms, by the sea there is also sun and through the fog, if you listen, you can hear a singular sound, a sound now carried by Richie Culver.

Participant is a record label and creative studio run by William Markarian-Martin and Richie Culver

Limousine has returned to this experimental ground where simplicity of composition, haunting loops and a sense of release are combined, but now voices come to dress their tracks and propel the vehicle into a new dimension.

Vocals in Limousine: a revolution for a quartet whose concept was precisely to do without them, so much so that they have often defined themselves as a band for singers who don't exist. From then on, the mission was to find that these singers, or singers, exist.

A cast that alternates iconoclastic figures and young hopefuls for a certified Grand Tourism trip: Malik Djoudi, Amber Burgoyne, Lucas Santtana, Victor Solf and Akhenaton take part in this new adventure. Rappers, singers or vocalists, these five performers slip naturally into Limousine's saps, as if each of the tracks had been specially cut for them.

Tropical stroll for the Brazilian Lucas Santtana, hip hop aside with AKH, soulful and intimate nocturne with the revelation from Brighton Amber Burgoyne or melancholic wandering with Malik Djoudi, Limousine purposely gathers a beautiful international French style.

For the rest, the quartet keeps its iconoclastic line and confirms its ability to create weightless themes.

In the end, Hula Hoop is an authentic Limousine album, whose elegance it perpetuates while constituting its expanded version.

Low Company presents Yuta Matsumura’s Red Ribbon, a sequence of introspective, lavishly melodic dream-songs and amphibian atmospheres recorded in scattered periods over 2018-21. Having played in bands like Low Life, M.O.B. and Orion, and the duo Jay & Yuta (with Jay Cruikshank), Red Ribbon is Matsumura’s first solo outing, and represents a conscious effort to move away from guitar-based songwriting. He composed its nine tracks mostly on piano - layering vocals, bass, keyboards, flute (courtesy of Maeve Parker), violin/cello (Laurence Quinn) and clacking drumbox rhythms into dynamic, dubwise avant-pop structures which are supple and spacious but fizzing with detail and vivid inner life. The laconic 4/4 pulse, heat-warped synth-tones and haunting vaporous melodica of opener ‘Box Garden’ set the tone: its surreal psychedelic patternings barely concealing a deep sting of longing and regret. The cryptic lyrics suggest chance encounters, hidden logic, missed opportunities, fatalism, serendipity. A city submerged: everyone else paused mid-movement, while you’re allowed to swim free and fish-like through the streets, over the rooftops...‘Tangled Orchid’ is a tense night-drive through dry desert heat and into the unknown, running away from your old life, chased down by dust-devils of half-baked schemes and abandoned plans, while ‘Myth Machine’ drops the tempo and something mind-altering, guiding us on a tripped-out dub-disco scuba among alien flora and fauna, a world of impossible shapes and sensations. At which point, the mood of the album decisively shifts, firstly with ‘Sake No Otoh’, sung in Japanese by Haruka Sato: an instant-classic, breathtakingly intimate lover's lament that sounds like it got lost on its way to heaven and is now doomed to orbit the earth forever. The songs that follow continue in this more confessional, imploring mode. As if the travelling's done, the baggage has been cast off, and we’ve arrived at our destination, where the real process of rebirth and repair can begin. The music’s textures become less overtly dubby and electronic, with more of an organic, earthy, chamber-pop/avant-folk feel, at once sad and hopeful-sounding. Three songs in particular bear the influence of Eno’s 70s work (and its mutant bedsit offspring Lifetones, Flaming Tunes, etc): ‘‘E. Potential’, where baroquely chorused vocals - half-agonised, half-beatific - teeter on top of simple oscillating piano loops, and the stately, dawntreading ballads ‘Tabula Rasa’ and ‘No Sleep For Birds’. The bulk of the album was made prior to lockdowns and all of that; its themes of reset, self-examination, the need to f**k it all off and take spiritual stock, are timeless. Though they perhaps have a more bittersweet resonance now the world has returned pretty much to how it was, only worse. Track list: 1. Box Garden 2. Tangled Orchid 3. Myth Machine 4. Red Ribbon 5. Soko No Ato 6. Tabula Rasa 7. E. Potential 8. No Sleep For Birds 9. Zookeeper's Trial

First ever vinyl release of this tribal ambient gem. A plethora of exotic rhythms and sonic meteorological phenomena. Loops, leftfield beats, and all kinds of textures from the 4th world and beyond. Originally released in 1994 on CD, it is a true beauty of electronic hypnotism and sonic exoticism. Through a highly developed process of layering, Jeff composes and performs music rich in texture, depth, mood, and subtle detail. His blend of electronic and acoustic instruments and textures produces haunting yet inviting soundscapes with a strong sense of place that hover somewhere between the exotic and the familiar. Moreover, you will find here collabs from other great artists: Dennis Rea (Savant) on guitar and Rob Angus with drum programming.

Jeff Greinke began composing and performing music in 1980 while studying meteorology at Pennsylvania State University. After moving to Seattle in 1982, Jeff formed the production company and recording label, INTREPID, through which he produced his first LP, Cities in Fog. He has since released twenty other recordings on various U.S. and European labels. He has composed music for film, video, dance, theatre, radio, and art installations. Jeff has toured throughout the United States and Europe and has performed in China, Canada, and Mexico. He has also been a member of numerous ensembles and is founder of the group LAND.

In the old attic, among dust and dimness, I once found an old children's magazine, that opened itself on a photograph of three melancholic girls eating soup. A distant voice, quietly singing ravels of poems from the 19th century, all gone and forgotten long ago, is accompanied by monotonous loops, played on toy keyboards, or are they maybe a rustling and hissing of twigs on the roof? repeating gusts of wind, slightly moving curtains over a flaking window frame? the pace of moonlight on the carpet? Do you also hear a horn, every now and then sounding from a frayed and yellowed picture of a castle on flower dotted wallpaper? Kot Kot’s "i pni" ("and stumps") LP brings another glimpse into Lena Filatova’s sound gathering & recording process and her unique sensibilities. Feeling as though born from some kind of advent calendar hiding forgotten sounds, neglected moments and haunting sentiments, waiting there for those inclined to have a look. Lena is curiously opening doors individually and in new unisons to arrive at sound collages & compositions born from both accident and design (see the 5/4 odd time signature in „Ottepel“). Vocals that are fragile yet often laced with a feeling of determination and emotive persuasion. Lyrics pulled from old children’s books, juxtaposed with often dark and foreboding loops and samples that dance asynchronously around each other beneath Lena’s voice & piano/toy keyboards. Often recognising and embracing the magic in imperfection and choosing to keep early takes & improvisations, capturing and treasuring what others might have failed to recognise and hold dear. Lena is always demonstrating an innate ability to sew all of these things together in such a way as to cast a spell on the listener from inside a zoetrope of curiously collected & curated frames. „i pni“ is a big and serious poetic work about the most hidden, almost lost and perished, but forever wandering between sleep and waking in an eternal hauntological dream of an old attic.

Prolific and singular Japanese producer Hoshina Anniversary presents Hyakunin Isshu, a two tracker of extended jaunts deeper into the mystery than he’s yet dared to venture. With a growing reputation for sizzling productions combining propulsive house rhythms with gyrating arpeggios and textured sound design punctured by jazz-inflected keys, Hyakunin Isshu further expands the limits.

On Hyakunin Isshu, Hoshina Anniversary paces it out over the course of two complimentary side-long runs. The A side Karakurenaini rides on a steady 4/4 as cycling percussion loops, squelchy acid basslines and angular piano chords float in and out of the mix. Deployed and rinsed to peak effect, it's relentless repetition evolves just enough to get completely lost in.

On side B Kirigirisu slows the pace down to a crawl, a lurching rhythm and haunting riff ascending almost to the point of vertigo toppling and giving way to a sci-fi drum break, a stirring prolonged break and triumphant culmination, it’s slow-mo future strut equally indebted to melodies of the past.

Hyakunin Isshu is named for Ogura Hyakunin Isshu, an anthology of delicate, reflective Japanese poetry comprised of works from the 12th and 13th centuries. Both tracks share their titles with different entries in the series.

Hoshina Anniversary is the alias of Yoshinobu Hoshina, a reverent reinterpreter of jazz, dance music and traditional Japanese instrumentation. The last couple of years have seen the producer from the Tokyo suburbs release a torrent of inimitable missives on esteemed maisons disques like ESP Institute, Osare Editions, Alien Jams and Youth. Also forthcoming in the summer of 2022 is an LP on Impatience.

Industrious Polish DJ, producer and live performer Szafran is summoned to Thabo's Berlin-based house imprint Home Again, debuting a new alias and sound in his arsenal as he reaches the spaces between house, breakbeat and acid house. The label's third release, Thabo grabs revered Parisian producer Leo Pol for a killer remix.
Previously releasing and performing as Oskar Szafraniec, he broke through under the mentorship of acid house legend A Guy Called Gerald, touring extensively together and developing his live show. His releases have come through notable labels Rawax, Deset and Cyclo, while collaborations with heavyweights Ricardo Villalobos and Pier Bucci brought more discerning ears, and basing himself in Berlin ensured that he'd play across the city's hallowed haunts, including Club der Visionaere, Watergate, Tresor and Salon zur Wilden Renate.

"After eight years in Berlin, I relocated to Croatia's Dalmatian coast last year. There was the enforced break from touring, but I also took a break from producing. I wanted to step back and find new inspirations. I was listening to a lot of Warp Records, feeling hugely inspired by the melodies in Aphex Twin and Squarepusher's '90s releases. My musical direction changed and I wanted to present these influences with my own touch. I feel my music is more emotive through the way I'm contrasting analogue, digital and organic elements and I hope people feel that." - Szafran

Packing punch and propulsion in equal measure is 'It's Just A Feeling', a striking, emotive track that cuts through with the sonic signature of the Roland TB 303. Prolific mastermind Leo Pol picks up the pace, giving the track a rerub with all the bang and bustle to vitalise a dancefloor. Prodigious outing 'You Don't Know' enters the field full of vigor with the breakbeat drum loops and 4 X 4 kick drum sequences giving it a propulsive, rousing pace, while 'Infuse' reaches through and closes the EP with a laidback flex.
Artwork by Ken Hanamura

Following up on 2017's phenomenally received 'All Right' / 'Innerspace' single on BMTM, Tim Reaper returns to the label with two gorgeous slices of cruising atmospherics that hark back to the seminally lush sounds of Lucky Spin, Dee Jay Recordings and early Good Looking Records.

'Stand Up' layers Demon's Theme-esque strings over hypnotically alternating chords, while submarine beeps deliver head-nodding rhythms over the shuffling breaks and bumping bass lines. If the words 'Speed' and 'Mars Bar' mean anything to you, you should listen to this immediately.

'The Tranquility Track' takes us into more melancholy territory, with filtered Steve Reich-style marimba loops and haunting pads dancing over the vintage break edits for which Tim Reaper has become famous.

Strictly for those who understand the power of a mesmerising groove.

2024 Restock

Space Afrika follow last year's heartbreaking x perception-bending mixtape "hybtwibt?" with an anxious patchwork of drill bass, reflective musique concrete and after-hours surrealism >> singular deep headspace exploration to file alongside Mark Leckey, Perila, Burial or Klein.

Assembled to accompany a short film from Manchester-born visual artist, poet and filmmaker Tibyan Mahawah Sanoh, Joshua Inyang and Joshua Tarelle’s newest is a cinematic audit of identity and ancestry. In the film, Sanoh works hard to visually illustrate an honest and vulnerable picture of her soul. Inyang and Tarelle respond by doing the same with sound, collaging disparate elements together in a way that should be familiar to anyone who heard "hybtwibt?" or their jawdropping RA mix from earlier this year.

Warped field recordings, overdriven rhythmic pressure, syrupy pads and disorienting vocals are cut and pasted over each other, generating a living, breathing study of the duo's Northern working class Black British reality. Unlike the duo's acclaimed "Somewhere Decent To Live" full-length, elements mutate and transform: mushy noise bends into street sounds, haunted vocals into echoing drill melancholia and muffled howls into shattered digital remnants.

The main event is the full 10-minute soundtrack, that's layered with Sanoh's disorienting and deeply personal poetry and echoes Mark Leckey's recent "In This Lingering Twilight Sparkle". Then the EP is bumped up with three sketches from the same sessions, two of which never made it to the final mixdown. 'Version 3' is a particular highlight, pasting heartbreaking piano and blowtorched vocal loops over winding drill bass > sounds like Burial remixing Unknown T into pure syrup.

a 1. Untitled (To Describe You) OST feat. Tibyan Mahawah Sanoh 10:50

a 1 | Untitled (To Describe You) OST feat. Tibyan Mahawah Sanoh 10 50

’Angelo lost his shit over it. Aaliyah’s 3rd favourite track of all time is on it. David Bowie rocked up with it to a TV interview, declaring it “the most exciting sound of contemporary soul music”.

In 1996, Lewis Taylor released his self-titled masterpiece. A true modern classic, it’s an album that was years ahead of its time. Forget 25 years ago, it could easily have been made in 2021. An effortless blend of neo-soul, sophisticated pop, smart grooves and laid-back white funk, it enjoyed rapturous reviews from critics and music legends alike. But the album never managed to make an impact and given what was likely a token vinyl release at the time, the original records have long since been near-impossible to find. Lewis Taylor’s Lewis Taylor remains a holy relic for some and criminally unknown to most.

Lewis Taylor’s impeccable influences created a dazzling sonic palette: the LP as a whole suggests the visionary brilliance of Prince; the vocal stylings evoke the yearning power of Marvin Gaye; the effortless guitar playing shares the virtuosity of Jimi Hendrix; the haunting tones conjure Tricky; the innovative production and engineering invite comparisons to studio mavericks like Todd Rundgren and Brian Eno; the multi-layered, complex harmonies flash on Pet Sounds-era Brian Wilson; the dark, drama is reminiscent of both Scott Walker and Stevie Wonder; the complex arrangements create textures and moods with the feel of Shuggie Otis on Inspiration Information; the bold experimentation is akin to progressive artists like Faust and Tangerine Dream; the atmosphere is in conversation with Jeff Buckley’s Grace… and we could go on. That might all sound like marketing hyperbole, but not as far as Be With is concerned. It is a genuine wonder how an album this good could’ve passed so many people by.

But despite all the reference points, the similarities are really only skin-deep because the album sounds truly original. It occupies its own distinct, strange universe that feels dark and brooding one moment, bright and joyous the next. Ultimately, Taylor sounds like Taylor.

Although you wouldn’t know it from the credits, the album wasn’t the work of Lewis alone. Sabina Smyth gets an executive producer credit on the original sleeve, but in fact she worked with Lewis on the production and arrangements, did a lot of the backing vocals and she co-wrote Track, Song, Lucky and Damn with Lewis.

Lewis clarified all this in a Soul Jones interview with Dan Dodds in 2016. He explains how not giving Sabina the credit she was due at the time was an unfortunate consequence of where his head was at and he’s now trying to set the record straight.

Together they created an exquisite and sensually-charged record, with a freshness to the writing that makes the songs catchy, melodic-yet-deep and sometimes even funky. The music is predominantly guitar-led and a mixture of organs and synths, live drum loops and electronic percussion make for a sort of modern soul backing orchestra.

On the surface the album is gorgeously laidback, but beneath the lush, sometimes slick, production there’s a murkiness in the seriously gritty funk/hip-hop instrumentation. Lewis Taylor can be a claustrophobic listen. Even its one-word, often seemingly throw-away track titles add to the sense of unease. In its most positive moments, there’s still a sense that things aren’t quite right. The magic comes from this compelling tension.

The languid, strutting “Lucky” is a sensational opening statement. Sinuous electric guitar winds around the shaking percussion with a killer bass line rattling your bones, and Lewis’s voice is sublime. Its six-and-a-half unhurried minutes manage to distill the work of Marvin, Al Green and Bobby Womack because yes, it’s *that* good. Up next is the tough, dusty drum and jazzy, unsettling psych-guitar workout of “Bittersweet”. Aaliyah described it the “perfect song”, which says it all. By turns loping and soaring, tightly coiled and blasting free, 25 years on its discordant, swaggering majesty still sounds like future R&B.

The swinging, blue-eyed funk of “Whoever” oozes sophisticated sunshine soul for hazy days before “Track” sweeps in. The music tries to lift us up, beyond the reach of the vocals trying to drag us back down as Taylor sings “my mood is black as the darkest cloud”. The spare, dubby electro-soul of “Song” closes out the first half of the album with barely contained dread as it creeps towards the lush, synth-heavy coda.

The smouldering “Betterlove” eases us into the second half, coming on like a languorous response to the call of “Brown Sugar”, before sliding into the shuffling, softly-rocking “How”. Somehow the remarkable “Right” manages to both warm things up and smooth things out even more. Taut yet luxurious, it’s definitely not wrong.

“Damn” was to have been the album’s title track and you might also be able to hear its influence on D’Angelo’s Voodoo, maybe most obviously in the chaotic closing moments of “Untitled (How Does It Feel)”. Building to a screeching wall of noise that suddenly cuts dead, “Damn” sounds like the natural end to the album, with the celestial a cappella “Spirit” serving as a heavenly reprise.

When it came to the sleeve, art director Cally Callomon heard Taylor’s music as “sideways off-camera glances at a plethora of influences he had” and wanted to interpret that visually: “I went off into night-time London to see if I could find his song titles in off-beam low-fidelity photographs. I even found a shop called Lewis Taylor”. With a slide for each of the album’s ten tracks, nine of them are on the inner sleeve and the slide for “Damn” makes the front cover. It should’ve been the album’s title, but concerns over distribution in the US scuppered this.

One of UK soul’s most fascinating artists, Andrew Lewis Taylor is an enigmatic figure and a hugely under-appreciated talent. A prodigious multi-instrumentalist who got his start touring with heavy blues/psych outfit the Edgar Broughton Band, he released two albums of psychedelic-rock as Sheriff Jack before Island signed him on the strength of a demo alone. But Taylor was destined to be one of those artists unable (or unwilling) to be pigeonholed and despite the best efforts of Island’s publicity department the music never sold in the quantities it needed to or deserved to. Island eventually let him go in the early 2000s and in June 2006, Lewis Taylor retired from music.

Typical for the mid-90s, this CD-length album was squeezed onto a single LP for its original vinyl release. Simon Francis’s fresh vinyl mastering now spreads out the ten tracks over a double LP so nothing is compromised. And as usual, the records have been cut by Pete Norman and pressed at Record Industry. The original artwork has been restored at Be With HQ and subtly re-worked to work as a double.

This sprawling psychedelic soul opus really is a forgotten should-be-classic. We know that there are those of you who know, and as for the rest of you, we’re a bit jealous that you’re getting to hear Lewis Taylor for the first time.

Both tracks produced by Robin The Fog at The Sticky Shed, Penge during lockdown 2020. Side A features a recording of a wine glass. Side B is created entirely from closed input sounds of the tape machines themselves. One take, no edits, no overdubs, no artificial FX. Mastered by Steven McInerney. A.H.M.F. and long live the Wyrm.

Robin The Fog is a sound designer, radio producer, audio archivist, educator and occasional DJ based in London. His work falls under the broad term "radiophonics" and includes composition, sound installation, field recording and documentary. Best known as founder and chief strategist of "tape loop quintet" Howlround, he also produces work alongside DJ Food and Chris Weaver as The New Obsolescents and with Ken Hollings as The Howling. Originally described as a "second wave hauntologist", his current obsession is attempting to use closed-input feedback loops to create primitive techno, which is quite a long way from where he started. His biggest fear is being swallowed by a python, but living in South London he appreciates the contingency is a remote one.

Originally recorded in 1977, following a limited release in 1979, Ghédalia Tazartès debut album, Diasporas, introduced listeners to the surreal, mysterious and truly unclassifiable statement of Tazartès and his out-of-time place in the French avant-garde canon. Born in Paris in 1947 to Judaeo-Spanish parents of Greek descent, Tazartès spent his early career as an autodidact utilizing his knowledge of repetition and collage, coupled with his Ladino linguistic heritage, to create some of the most unique recordings of the late 20th century. Interest in the works of Tazartès truly sparked when artist Steve Stapleton included his follow up album, Tazartès' Transports, in his famed "Nurse With Wound List," thus adding endless curiosity to the folklore behind Tazartès and his mystical entrée.

From the onset of Diasporas, looping incantations seemingly pile up at the behest of Tazartès. In almost a prayer-like decree, Tazartès chants to the gods in an undefined whail that is both haunting and spiritually divine. Tazartès unique use of tape loops to capture the disappearing traditions of his family's past creates an atmospheric texture that unexpectedly complements his cut-up, manipulated vocal experiments. While contemporaries within the French avant-garde maneuvered academic theory and rigid tradition, Diasporas strays away from these boundaries, working in Tazartès' invented practice of 'impromuz', a method in which he endlessly records for hours and edits only the moments that display any sense of spontaneous enlightenment. Further emboldening the obtuse nature of Diasporas are the seemingly random recitation of poet Stéphane Mallarmé and the traditional 'Parisian-style' piano accompaniment of experimental composer Michel Chion.

Since its initial release over 40 years ago, both Dais Records and Alga Marghen have released reissues of Diasporas in various formats, all of which quickly fell out of print. Dais Records presents an official reissue, newly remastered by Josh Bonati, utilizing the original artwork of Diasporas in its sole album form, for the first time in over four decades.

Originally recorded in 1977, following a limited release in 1979, Ghédalia Tazartès debut album, Diasporas, introduced listeners to the surreal, mysterious and truly unclassifiable statement of Tazartès and his out-of-time place in the French avant-garde canon. Born in Paris in 1947 to Judaeo-Spanish parents of Greek descent, Tazartès spent his early career as an autodidact utilizing his knowledge of repetition and collage, coupled with his Ladino linguistic heritage, to create some of the most unique recordings of the late 20th century. Interest in the works of Tazartès truly sparked when artist Steve Stapleton included his follow up album, Tazartès' Transports, in his famed "Nurse With Wound List," thus adding endless curiosity to the folklore behind Tazartès and his mystical entrée.

From the onset of Diasporas, looping incantations seemingly pile up at the behest of Tazartès. In almost a prayer-like decree, Tazartès chants to the gods in an undefined whail that is both haunting and spiritually divine. Tazartès unique use of tape loops to capture the disappearing traditions of his family's past creates an atmospheric texture that unexpectedly complements his cut-up, manipulated vocal experiments. While contemporaries within the French avant-garde maneuvered academic theory and rigid tradition, Diasporas strays away from these boundaries, working in Tazartès' invented practice of 'impromuz', a method in which he endlessly records for hours and edits only the moments that display any sense of spontaneous enlightenment. Further emboldening the obtuse nature of Diasporas are the seemingly random recitation of poet Stéphane Mallarmé and the traditional 'Parisian-style' piano accompaniment of experimental composer Michel Chion.

Since its initial release over 40 years ago, both Dais Records and Alga Marghen have released reissues of Diasporas in various formats, all of which quickly fell out of print. Dais Records presents an official reissue, newly remastered by Josh Bonati, utilizing the original artwork of Diasporas in its sole album form, for the first time in over four decades.

Italian producer and Fine Human Records label head Dino Lenny lands on Crosstown Rebels for the first time this November, bringing his distinct and personal style to the label on the absorbing Doctor, also featuring a remix from Nuiton. The haunting, emotive vocals of Dino impress throughout on Doctor, chugging groove moves alongside waves of dark electronics and panic-struck, devilish synth. A track crafted to capture the inner workings of Lenny’s mind, transforming them into a hypnotic piece. Nuiton remixes Doctor on the reverse, adding energy to the original with skipping hats and quirky arrangements, building tension that reaches an intense jazzy crescendo of percussion and brass to leave you in a headspin. On the digital release a dub version loses the voice but retains the mysticism. With almost 30 years of releasing records under his belt, Dino Lenny has naturally built an incredible back catalogue of remixes and collaborations. He’s worked with some of the biggest names in the business, yet his productions retain a unique style that is all his own. A true lover of the 80s, when he needs that extra touch he will add his vocals to the music, always trying to deliver something original that will stand the test of time, often opting for imperfect unique experience over precise emotionless never-ending loops. Alongside this, he has remixed huge names like Missy Elliott and Timbaland and has collaborated with legends including Madonna, Wu-Tang Clan, Seth Troxler and Dixon. Lenny has been named as “a wizard of electronic music” by the Chemical Brothers, played live with Underworld, released music on the likes of Crosstown Rebels sister label Rebellion, Innervisions, Diynamic, Cocoon & Correspondant, and is currently signed to Ellum. Constantly evolving his sound, Dino is unpredictable & eclectic.

Moon Diagrams is the solo recording project of Deerhunter co-founder and drummer Moses John Archuleta. Two years after his acclaimed debut album Lifetime Of Love, Archuleta returns with Trappy Bats, a mini-LP that interweaves three brilliant new Moon Diagrams tracks with radiant reworks from Shigeto, Angel Deradoorian and Jefre Cantu-Ledesma. Trappy Bats was largely recorded in a single night as a means to process the intense intersection of Archuleta’s social, political and personal hysteria. Having been arrested for an unremembered missed court date, Archuleta spent 24 hours in a holding cell, offering ample time to reflect on his life, the current state of the nation (the jail televisions were showing a constant feed of the then-active Unite the Right rally in Charlottesville) and the other inmates. Upon being released the next day, Archuleta found himself suffering from a bout of insomnia and feeling the need to process everything through music. Here, Archuleta is in his freest and most grateful state, channelling the turmoil and confusion he was experiencing into an unencumbered fit of creativity. It’s pure, unadulterated escapism with an even more callous palette of sounds than before, clearly split between two moods. On what you might call the ‘up’ side, the title track could be the sonic spawn of Not Waving and Terrence Dixon: a snarling mix of percussive clatter and washes of orchestral tones coalesce into a pulsating groove across its almost 12-minute runtime, the underlying ’80s aesthetic making it feel like a turbo-charged Shep Pettibone remix of New Order, looped to infinity. Detroit electronica don Shigeto goes even further and implodes the track into a kaleidoscope of bone-jarring, viscerally giddy dance music. Over on the ‘down’ side, ‘Wipeout’ is a slow-motion waltz of dusty piano and clattering percussion loops that coolly stumble along with the woozy, nocturnal flare of The Caretaker or Philip Jeck. The haunted reverie ventures even deeper with a beatifically electrified ambient re-imagination by Jefre Cantu-Ledesma. Daisychain’ goes almost completely off the grid, offering up a sweetly submerged slab of constantly evolving murkiness in the vein of Demdike Stare or a dosed Andy Stott. The sweet shuffle levitates even higher with a celestial re-interpretation by sonic visionary Angel Deradoorian, formerly of the Dirty Projectors. The end result is an extended traipse through Saturday evening fever-dream techno, Sunday morning cigarette jazz-pop and every blank thought in between.

F-Dorm is a collaboration between Connor Camburn of Litüus (AVIAN), and visual artist Conor Ekstrom. Commune follows the first F Dorm cassette on Mazurka and presents the first LP by the project. Songs build upon unexpected repetition, wielding normally aggressive sounds into meditative loops with subtle textural evolutions. Bursts of tape saturation, controlled waves of feedback, and linear drum beats shift and weave together through rhythmic delays. Affected vocals speak low as if coaxing the listener further out into the nether regions of the mind. The strange cumulative mood of the record is difficult to describe: A transcendental state or a foul parallel from which the listener arises stronger or does not arise at all. mummies in civilian clothes -the master of the riddle-a DOLLMIND haunts me in the penitentiary -the puttyman, naked inside -a mind made of cream