Pickle Darling has always existed just outside of the periphery. In a heightened time of fast music, algorithmic consumption and rapid virality, Lukas Mayo (they/them) has remained focused on the album. Their discography is a reflection of their creative evolution, and they deliberately look for ways to push sonic boundaries from release to release. Since debuting with Bigness in 2019 followed by Cosmonaut in 2021, Mayo has curated a catalog that is deeply personal and strangely tactile, where tiny, unexpected details_an off-kilter loop, a whispered aside, the warmth of an old Casio_become as crucial as melody itself. Their 2023 LP Laundromat was a precise and polished expansion of that world, a record that felt like it had been carefully placed behind glass. Their forthcoming fourth album, Battlebots, by contrast, is unruly and full of static: a collection of songs that feel like they could only ever exist on scratched CD-Rs passed between friends. Self-recorded in their home studio in Christchurch, New Zealand, it finds Mayo taking a scalpel to their own songwriting. Songs were stretched, chopped, reversed. Some ideas started as "unlistenable garbage" before morphing into something unexpectedly beautiful. If a song felt too straightforward, Mayo had to mess it up. That friction of old and new, organic and digital, melody and noise is what drives Battlebots. Drawing inspiration from a strange, scattered lineage: Four Tet's Rounds, The Books, Neneh Cherry's Broken Politics, The Wrens' Three types of reading ambiguity, but also the emotional directness of 2000s pop like Madonna's Ray of Light and Robyn's Body Talk, the result is an album that feels like a glitch in the system, pushing against past constraints while embracing the weird, beautiful mess of making something new.
Viereinhalb Jahre kein Dehuman Reign Album. Diese Wartezeit war schrecklich, aber hat nun endlich ein Ende. Die Berliner Band veröffentlicht am 25.07.2025 ihr nunmehr drittes und stärkstes Album "Dawn Of A Malefic Dominion" . Euch erwarten 43 Minuten knallharter Death Metal amerikanischer Prägung. Morbid Angel, Deicide und co. würden sicher einiges dafür geben, solch einen energetischen Brecher auf die Rille zu zaubern. Ein musikalisches Schlachtfest, welches euch die Gehörgänge versilbert und ordentlich das Blut auf Siedepunkt hochkocht. "Dawn of a Malefic Dominion" wurde von Tobias Engl, Ulf Binder und den Magic Sixteen in den Englsound Abyss und Studio B19 aufgenommen und produziert. Gemischt und gemastert von Lukas Haidinger im Deep Deep Pressure Studio. Cover-Artwork von Mitchell Nolte (Baest, Aborted, Sabaton) Gast-Soli: "Post-Traumatic Suicide Syndrome" - Lukas Haidinger (Distaste) "Preparing Armageddon" - Sebastian Ankert (Sinners Bleed) Gastauftritte auf "The Invasion": Vanessa Conrad, Alba Pardo, Anton Fortunato, Mune (Deathtopia), Til Pörksen und Apostolos (Rapture).
DeWolff veröffentlichen Vinyl-Re-issue ihres 2023er Albums Love, Death & In Between
Am 3. Februar 2023 veröffentlichten DeWolff ihr Erfolgsalbum 'Love, Death & In Between. Nun erscheint das Album in einer Vinyl-Neuauflage im limitierten Green Marble Look.
Aufgenommen wurde das Album im Kerwax Studio in einem keinen Dorf in der Bretagne.
„Wir dachten damals, lass uns auf ein Abenteuer gehen“, sagt Pablo. Im Nordwesten Frankreichs gelegen und von Wäldern umgeben, zogen sie sich für zwei Wochen in das Wohnstudio zurück, umgeben von Vintage-Aufnahmegeräten aus den 1940er bis 1970er Jahren.
Die Brüder Pablo (Gitarre/Gesang) und Luka van de Poel (Schlagzeug/Gesang) sowie Robin Piso (Hammond/Wurlitzer) nahmen live und ohne Overdubs auf und wurden bei den Aufnahmen von einer Reihe von Freunden unterstützt. DeWolff verließ die Bretagne mit zwölf Songs auf vier Bändern. Mit einer Mischung aus Al Green, Sam Cooke und John Steinbeck haben sie einige ihrer gefühlvollsten und zugleich mitreißendsten Songs geschaffen.
Croatian cellists Luka Šulić and HAUSER, together known as 2CELLOS, celebrated their 10th anniversary in 2021 with a brand new album, titled Dedicated. The album was led by the first single, a cover of Bon Jovi’s anthem “Livin’ On A Prayer”. Dedicated showcases their unique playing style on ten new arrangements that reinvent both recent hits such as One Republic's “Wherever I Go”, Ed Sheeran/Justin Bieber's “I Don’t Care” and Billie Eilish's “Bad Guy”, and iconic classics such as Guns ‘N Roses' “Sweet Child O’ Mine” and Aerosmith's “Cryin’”. In 2011, 2CELLOS went viral with their self-uploaded version of Michael Jackon’s “Smooth Criminal”. Since then, they’ve released five chart-topping studio albums, amassed over 2.5 billion streams and surpassed 20 million followers on their socials. They shared the stages with Elton John, Steven Tyler, Andrea Bocelli, George Michael and Queens Of The Stone Age amongst others. Dedicated is available as a limited edition of 1000 numbered copies on white coloured vinyl and includes an insert.
Five years after their groundbreaking debut "Klucz" (hailed as the best Polish hip-hop album of 2004), the Warsaw-based crew Wilku, Bilon, and Żary returned with another hard-hitting project – "Droga", originally released on April 15, 2009.
Now, 16 years later, this cult classic is returning for the first time ever on vinyl – in a special collector’s edition!
"Droga" features a lineup of guest artists who, at the time, formed the backbone of the Polish hip-hop scene, including Peja, Lukasyno, Firma, Fandango Gang, Juras, Bas Tajpan, Ras Luta, Dixon 37, and Diil Gang.
The members of Hemp Gru explain the meaning behind the album title:
“The first album was the 'Key' that opened the door. Now, beyond that door, lies the Road – hence the title of the second album.”
The album earned Gold Record status – twice – and is now regarded as one of the foundational releases of Polish street hip-hop.
Vinyl Edition Includes:
• 2 vinyl records (vinyl mastering by DJ 600V) in a gatefold sleeve
• 1 fold-out double-sided poster (60 cm x 30 cm)
• 1 double-sided insert (30 cm x 30 cm)
• 2 exclusive instrumentals: Droga and W Hemp Armii
A must-have for fans and collectors of Polish hip-hop history.
LA-based producer Real Bad Man and Detroit artist ZelooperZ release their joint album Dear Psilocybin via the pro-ducer’s own Real Bad Man Records. The album marks the duo’s first collaboration, culminating in a full-length project that also features guest appearances from Boldy James, MAVI and a verse from The Alchemist. On Dear Psilocybin, ZelooperZ invokes unconventional production out of Real Bad Man to match his own unpredictable and outlandish delivery, working outside of traditional song structures and existing in a lane of his own. The Detroit multihyphenate, who is an integral part of Danny Brown’s Bruiser Brigadecollective and also an accomplished visual artist, painted the album’s corresponding cover artwork as well.
“I definitely haven’t made anything like this before, it’s a very subtle version of my music as far as tone, ” ZelooperZ explained in a conversation with Real Bad Man for his RBM Radio show. He elaborates on the off-kilter approach to the way he recorded to say, “the album feels like a movie soundtrack for a film about a man losing his mind and getting spurts of memories along the way. ”
Speaking about how the project differs from the rest of his collaborative catalog, RBM says, “It’s trippy and it’s a little different – but the main goal was for it to be authentic to Z and his process. ” That dedication to authenticity rings true across his catalog, drawing back to the foundations of his beginnings as a producer, learning the fundamentals of sampling, experimenting with chords and learning to piece songs together by ear. RBM builds a cohesive production arc around each artist he works with, catered to their strengths as artists, working with a variety of lyrical stylists includ-ing Memphis rapper Lukah, Pink Siifu, Blu, Kool Keith, Elcamino & more.
Real Bad Man is the production moniker of visual artist and designer Adam Jay Weissman. A designer and visual artist first, he made his foray into music through his On High Alert series of imaginative, multi-generational compilations, which have featured the likes of Roc Marciano, ROME STREETZ, Pink Siifu, Maxo and more. In the years since, he’s partnered with some of hip-hop’s most talented and adventurous artists on full-length projects, refining and shaping the trajectory of some of rap’s most exciting independent artists.
Man singt und es wird: Im Zuge eines Zusammenbruchs hat Max Gruber den Soloartist Drangsal gekillt und die Band Drangsal gegründet. Am Ende des Tunnels steht das im Juni 2025 erscheinende Album, Aus keiner meiner Brücken die in Asche liegen ist je ein Phönix emporgestiegen.
Seit über zehn Jahren sichelt Max Gruber mittlerweile die Zick-Zack-Schneise Drangsal durch die deutsche Poplandschaft: Harieschaim aus 2016, Zores aus 2018 und zuletzt Exit Strategy – das ihm 2021 Platz 6 der Albumcharts bescherte – erdachte Gruber größtenteils im Alleingang. Und dann war da noch etwas nach seiner Exit Strategy: Ein Zusammenbruch. Max Gruber wusste nicht mehr, ob und wenn ja, wie er weiter Drangsal machen will, veröffentlichte im Ullstein-Verlag sein literarisches Debüt »Doch«, gründete Die Benjamins, holte so gemeinsam mit Charlotte Brandi, Thomas Götz und Julian Knoth Hans-A-Plast Frontfrau Annette Benjamin aus dem Ruhestand und reaktivierte unlängst das 2016 mit Stella Sommer gegründete Duo Die Mausis.
Und doch, von innen wie von außen, immer wieder die Frage nach einem neuen Drangsal-Album. Wenn es denn überhaupt nochmal eines geben soll, erkannte Gruber, musste er die Arbeitsweise, auf deren Grundlage Drangsal-Songs entstehen, fundamental verändern. Auf alles Ringen folgte, was unvermeidbar war: Der Reset. Max Gruber hat den Soloartist Drangsal gekillt und die dreiköpfige Band Drangsal gegründet – zusammen mit zwei Mitmusikern, die ihn aus seinen Gewohnheiten gelöst haben: Lukas Korn und Marvin Holley.
Erstgenannter ist Gitarrist und Produzent, spielt in der Band Lyschko, produzierte zuletzt das Album silber von Mia Morgan und hat seit 2020 als Bassist an der Drangsal-Liveband partizipiert. Zweiterer studierte Jazz- und klassische Gitarre sowie Komposition in Stuttgart und Wien, stand mit Sam Vance-Law und Fil Bo Riva auf der Bühne und arrangierte für Film und Theater. Lukas Korn und Marvin Holley haben dafür gesorgt, dass sich die zentrale Figur im Kosmos Drangsal dreiteilt.
Das Liedermachen in Bandkonstellation ließ alle Angst platzen: Getragen von Euphorie nahmen Gruber, Holley und Korn ab Ende 2022 etliche Songskizzen und damit den Unterbau eines siebzehnteiligen Albums auf. Nach Kreativurlauben an der polnischen Grenze und Ostsee stand eine von Max Rieger produzierte und von Lukas Korn Co-produzierte vierte Drangsal-LP. Sie trägt den schwergängigen Titel Aus keiner meiner Brücken die in Asche liegen ist je ein Phönix emporgestiegen und erscheint im Juni 2025. Gruber, Holley und Korn haben sich auf das Credo so wenig wie möglich, so viel wie nötig verständigt – und dadurch einen Umbruch im Klangkosmos Drangsals manifestiert, der völlig neue Dynamiken mit sich bringt. Aus keiner meiner Brücken die in Asche liegen ist je ein Phönix emporgestiegen hält Leerstellen aus, in seinem Zentrum stehen, statt Synthesizer, Akustikgitarren, die immer wieder an der Grenze zu Blues und Jazz wandeln. Wo speziell auf Exit Strategy noch überzuckerter Synth-Pop preschte, ist nun Klavier zu hören; Orgel, Klavinet und Cembalo; Xylophon, Violinen und Celli; von Ralph Heidel gespielte Querflöten und Saxophone.
Dazwischen drei Episoden, in denen sich Gospel Chöre und Technobeats breitmachen. Max Rieger hat die drei dazu motiviert, Echtheit, auch Imperfektion im Moment der Aufnahme zuzulassen – und großen Anteil daran, dass »Aus keiner meiner Brücken die in Asche liegen ist je ein Phönix emporgestiegen« ein realistisches Abbild des Trios bietet. Die Stimmung? Dagegen eher ein Wechselbad. Max Gruber singt von Selbstentfremdung, vom Für und Wider des Stillstands, vom Sichhingeben und Sichwegschmeißen – mal auf deutsch, mal auf englisch, mal zart, mal angewidert. Grubers Stimme klingt, nach einer klassischen Gesangsausbildung, die der Einunddreißigjährige angetreten hat, zielbewusster. Umarmungen Marke »Ich hab von der Musik geträumt und Inkomplett treffen auf Gewitterwolken à la Mein Eid und dem Sophia-Blenda-Feature Mein Mo(nu)ment. Entlang rigoroser Entkernung und Hexenjagd geht es Bergab – für dich, für mich, für Max Gruber sowieso. Er ist über weite Teile der Platte hinweg auf der Flucht vor sich selbst, den alten Geistern, dem leidigen Wachzustand: Wär’ ich doch bloß nimmermehr erwacht, ich schliefe in ewigem Glück. Gruber sucht und sucht: Nach innerem Frieden, nach Gnade, nach unverbranntem Boden, nach neuen Versionen seiner Selbst – und das vergeblich. Immerhin scheinen Erinnerungen mit der Zeit zu verschwimmen: Grubers Worte – zu sich und zur Welt – klingen im hinteren Teil der Platte sanfter, vergebender, resümierender. Ein Schlüsselmoment? Das von der Schauspielerin Rosa Lembeck eingesprochene, Monolog artig formulierte Klanggedicht Rosa – Es ist so: Man singt und es wird.
10 years ago, the Southern Rock Americana album 'Catawba River Fox' was released independently and in a small edition, with 9 songs written by Pablo van de Poel and recorded analogue in 9 days, with the collaboration of, in addition to his DeWolff mates Robin Piso and Luka van de Also pool Mischa Porte, Joep Bollinger and Stefan Wolfs. It was the first time that Pablo recorded and mixed an album himself, and in his own words “you could hear that”. To mark the 10th anniversary of this album, we are now releasing a remastered version.
NEKRODEUS wurde 2013 gegründet und begann mit einem Demo irgendwo zwischen Death Metal und Sludgecore. Die Band und ihre Musik haben sich über die Jahre ihrer Bandgeschichte immer weiter entwickelt. Die äußerst kreative Band befindet sich nun auf ihrem aktuellen künstlerischen Höhepunkt und verbindet gekonnt Musikgenres wie Black Metal, HC Punk, Death Metal und Grindcore. Sie blicken auf zwei Alben (,Moloch", ,Asbest"), eine EP (,Putrid Scent of Grave Perversion") und das Demo zurück, mit dem sie gestartet sind. In ihren gesellschaftskritischen Texten wird schnell klar, dass die vierköpfige Band etwas zu sagen hat. Die Band, bestehend aus Sebastian Lackner (Gitarre - auch Live-Mitglied von ELLENDE), Stefan Rindler (Gesang), Paul Färber (Schlagzeug - auch KARG & Live-Mitglied von ELLENDE und HARAKIRI FOR THE SKY) und Lukas Benedicic am Bass kann es kaum erwarten, euch musikalisch den Tag zu versüßen. ,Ruaß" ist ein sich wandelndes Fest des knusprigen Black Metal Punk, eine Kost aus roher Gewalt und stimmungsvoller Atmosphäre, die den Nerv zwischen deinem Reptilienhirn und deiner emotionalen Intelligenz kratzt, während sie mit ihren eigenen grobkantigen Zähnen zurückbeißt.
In celebration of their 35th anniversary, Leftover Salmon, the legendary
bluegrass-rooted jam band, will be releasing their new studio album, Let's
Party About It
Let's Party About It reaffirms their status as pioneers of blended bluegrass and
showcases their unmatched musical chemistry. For the first time ever, the band wrote
the album together in a single session as a group. Longtime friend of the band and
storied songwriter Aaron Raitiere (Lady Gaga, Lukas Nelson, Ella Langley, Lainey
Wilson, Anderson East, The Lone Bellow, Trace Adkins, and more) also joined the band
for the writing session. The resulting album captures the energy and camaraderie that
have defined Leftover Salmon's three-and-a-half-decade-long career.
The album was recorded at Compass Sound Studio (formerly Glaser Sound Studio,
aka "Hillbilly Central"), the iconic birthplace of Outlaw Country, with the band joined by
special guests such as Del McCoury (vocals), Sam Bush (fiddle, mandolin), Jason
Carter (fiddle), Jeff Coffin (saxophone), and more.
Thumbprint records is a brand new label out of Bristol. It is ran by the artist who goes under the name LMB and is a well overdue personal project.
For the first installment Thumbprint Records bring you an all round excellent EP by Morphology who have been releasing music for the past 15 years on such lables as Abstract Forms, Cultivated Electronics and De:tuned.
This is Morphology's first release of 2025 and we are proud to make it our first release. Each 4 tracks are classic Morphology, moody,solid and definitely dance floor material. We hope you enjoy!
Supported by the likes of Craig Richards, Bobby, Lukas Wigflex, Ralf Lawson, Radioactive Man and Dave Harvey.
Lisa Wilhelms neues Album SO CLOSE erscheint am 9. Mai 2025 bei BERTHOLD records und bringt eine spannende Weiterentwicklung ihrer Musik. In Zusammenarbeit mit Lukas Wögler (Saxophon), Moritz Langmaier (Klavier), Franz Blumenthal (Bass) und Lisa Wilhelm (Komposition und Schlagzeug) kombiniert sie lyrischen Jazz mit verträumten Pop-Klängen. Das Album erweitert das ursprüngliche Jazz-Quartett um Gesangseinlagen von Mareike Riegert, Nate Dailey und Nico-Alexander Wilhelm sowie ein Streichquartett. Wilhelms Kompositionen sind tief von persönlichen Erlebnissen und literarischen Entdeckungen inspiriert. Die Reise von SO CLOSE führt die Hörer durch intime Erinnerungen und emotionale Momente, die in Klänge übersetzt werden. Lieder wie "Change the Game", geschrieben für ihren Bruder, sprechen von den Herausforderungen von Druck und Erfolg, während "Four Voices" die inneren Kämpfe junger Frauen thematisiert. Mit SO CLOSE setzt Wilhelm mehr auf arrangierte Kompositionen, während sie ihre jazzigen Wurzeln und improvisierten Elemente beibehält. Die Klanglandschaften des Albums, inspiriert von unerwarteten Begegnungen und Geschichten, bieten eine tiefgründige emotionale Reise, die Pop, Folk und Jazz vereint. SO CLOSE stellt Lisa Wilhelm als Komponistin und Schlagzeugerin auf ein neues kreatives Niveau und verspricht ein berührendes und vielschichtiges Hörerlebnis.
2CELLOS are back with their third album Celloverse, which returns to the sound and concept of their self-titled debut, building on Luka Sulic & Stjepan Hauser's unique ability to re-imagine current and classic rock and pop songs with their own extraordinary energy — blasting instrumental music off into a whole new Celloverse. The album includes audio recordings of their YouTube releases of "Thunderstruck" and "I Will Wait" as well as new takes on songs such as Avicii's "Wake Me Up," Iron Maiden's "The Trooper" and another Michael Jackson favourite "They Don't Care About Us." The title song is a 2CELLOS original, and to top it all off, there's an unforgettable guest collaboration with their good friend, Lang Lang on the Paul McCartney classic "Live and Let Die." Celloverse is available as a 10th anniversary edition of 1000 numbered copies on orange coloured vinyl and includes an insert.
Ingrid Schmoliner und Alex Kranabetter sind seit über einem Jahrzehnt tragende Säulen der improvisierten und experimentellen Musikszene in Österreich. Obwohl erstere vor allem als Pianistin und Sängerin und letzterer als Trompeter bekannt ist, verfügen beide über ein äußerst umfangreiches Klangspektrum. Schmolinger arbeitet konsequent mit der Klangregie, um lebendige psychoakustische und räumliche Effekte zu erzeugen, während Kranabetter regelmäßig Elektronik einsetzt, um seine Klangwelten in Solo- und Gemeinschaftskonstellationen radikal zu transformieren und zu erweitern. Vielleicht fängt kein anderes Projekt die ganze Pracht ihrer ästhetischen Tendenzen so ein wie ihr Duo ,drank", das im April 2025 sein herausragendes Debütalbum ,Breath in Definition" bei Trost veröffentlichen wird. Für drank scheint es keine Grenzen für Klanggebilde zu geben. Als Gäste mit dabei sind der bemerkenswerte Schlagzeuger Lukas König und die Sängerin Anja Franziska Plaschg (aka Soap&Skin). Ingrid Schmoliner: prepared piano Alexander Kranabetter: trumpet, electronics guest on GITTA - Lukas Koenig: marimba guest on BREATH IN DEFINITION - Anja Plaschg (Soap&Skin): voice
Yellow Coloured Vinyl[29,37 €]
Kneading dough is tricky – you should know how it’s supposed to feel. If you try too hard you could make it worse. It’s a beautiful practice – creation with a gentle touch, to work at something so it can be left alone. “If it’s too drawn out it’s awful. It’s easy to give too much.” Dance in the mirror. Contemplate your veiny hands. Who do they remind you of?
You begin by mixing flour and water. “What happens when your people die? Why’d they move the rock to the other side of Ulster Park?” Eliza Niemi asks two seemingly unrelated questions in a rising melody with guitar accompaniment, like fingers playing spider up to the nape of your neck. Gentle pressure. Strands of gluten form to bind the mix. A new question lingers in the binding. When she admits “but I don’t know how to tell if I’m feeling it or not,” that question surfaces through the text. It is reiterated throughout the album. When I’m working with dough I think the same thing to myself.
On Progress Bakery, her second album as a solo artist, Eliza knows to leave some questions alone – to let juxtaposition and tension be the proof. It doesn’t have to be hard. The feelings and revelations they provoke rise in the heat. The smell is sweet. Crispy on the outside and soft all the way through. She playfully slip-slides through words and sounds and images, delighting in surprise, skimming ideas like stones cast across clear water, touching down briefly with uncommon grace.
The question provoked between those opening lines resurfaces in the strands between songs – “Do U FM” is fully formed and beautifully layered, while “Novelist Sad Face” is a short, acapella rendering of gentle curiosity. What is holding these ideas together? Some songs demand more, seem to carry a whole load – eventually the skipping stone will halt to sink and resume its idle duty – while others drift in and out of focus, the way thoughts and dreams become interwoven before the mind is sunk into true sleep.
Music and words don’t always have to interact. Where she decides to keep them apart gives a new contour to where and how she puts them together. The kind of thing you’re supposed to take for granted with songs and their singers comes alive in Eliza’s hands – the little miracle of mixing, kneading, stretching, and stopping.
So often on Progress Bakery, Eliza teases out truth and meaning by asking questions. “Do I wanna be crying?” “Do you want me good or do you want me bad?” “Do I need an eye test?” “I’m writing songs in my head while you’re going over stuff with me — is that cruel??” In “Pocky” Eliza ends with a question that feels to me like the actual biography, succinct and revealing:
I don’t wanna be made to see
I just wanna ask “what’s that?”
Grace that ought to be rare, but in its care and precision is offered humbly, with great generosity, and without announcing itself. Eliza’s simple, miraculous music is given further form and shape by a group of collaborators – invaluable guest musicians Jeremy Ray, Evan Cartwright, Steven McPhail, Kenny Boothby, Ed Squires, Carolina Chauffe, Dorothea Paas, Louie Short, and Avalon Tassonyi. Together with Louie Short, who recorded, mixed, and produced the album along with Jeremy Ray and Lukas Cheung, Eliza has cultivated a richness in sound and texture that prods and provokes the ticklish ear. Barely audible guitar tinkering, a brief lo-fi field recording of trumpets, the harmonic clicking of a looped synthesizer, a flourish of reeds, a child’s conversation, each uncanny sound perfectly placed, rippling out under a soft breeze.
Lay in bed alone at night and ask aloud to the stillness,
“What were you doing at the Albuquerque Airport?
What were you doing there??”
And hear your question answered by a dream of swelling, undulating cellos. Try to grasp at the melody and structure. It’s not an answer (if there could be one), but it moves deeper, closer to the weird layer of fleeting moments and disconnected images, barely perceptible at its core. Wait for the dream reel to click into place.
Eliza took me for a ride in Nicole (her beloved Dodge Grand Caravan) and told me she’d been thinking of the album as an embodiment of transition – and I think every transition, known or unknown, carries the weight of new meaning, skittering off the surface tension of life as you know it, creating ripples, sometimes bouncing off and sometimes breaking through. There is a trick you can use to tell if a dough is glutinous enough. You’re supposed to stretch it out as thin as you can without breaking it and hold it up to the light. If you can see through, even if it renders the world murky and uncertain, you should leave it alone. I love this trick. It’s one that Eliza seems to know intuitively: work gently and ask questions and don’t always expect answers, and when you can, take a glimpse at something new, and then leave.
Kneading dough is tricky – you should know how it’s supposed to feel. If you try too hard you could make it worse. It’s a beautiful practice – creation with a gentle touch, to work at something so it can be left alone. “If it’s too drawn out it’s awful. It’s easy to give too much.” Dance in the mirror. Contemplate your veiny hands. Who do they remind you of?
You begin by mixing flour and water. “What happens when your people die? Why’d they move the rock to the other side of Ulster Park?” Eliza Niemi asks two seemingly unrelated questions in a rising melody with guitar accompaniment, like fingers playing spider up to the nape of your neck. Gentle pressure. Strands of gluten form to bind the mix. A new question lingers in the binding. When she admits “but I don’t know how to tell if I’m feeling it or not,” that question surfaces through the text. It is reiterated throughout the album. When I’m working with dough I think the same thing to myself.
On Progress Bakery, her second album as a solo artist, Eliza knows to leave some questions alone – to let juxtaposition and tension be the proof. It doesn’t have to be hard. The feelings and revelations they provoke rise in the heat. The smell is sweet. Crispy on the outside and soft all the way through. She playfully slip-slides through words and sounds and images, delighting in surprise, skimming ideas like stones cast across clear water, touching down briefly with uncommon grace.
The question provoked between those opening lines resurfaces in the strands between songs – “Do U FM” is fully formed and beautifully layered, while “Novelist Sad Face” is a short, acapella rendering of gentle curiosity. What is holding these ideas together? Some songs demand more, seem to carry a whole load – eventually the skipping stone will halt to sink and resume its idle duty – while others drift in and out of focus, the way thoughts and dreams become interwoven before the mind is sunk into true sleep.
Music and words don’t always have to interact. Where she decides to keep them apart gives a new contour to where and how she puts them together. The kind of thing you’re supposed to take for granted with songs and their singers comes alive in Eliza’s hands – the little miracle of mixing, kneading, stretching, and stopping.
So often on Progress Bakery, Eliza teases out truth and meaning by asking questions. “Do I wanna be crying?” “Do you want me good or do you want me bad?” “Do I need an eye test?” “I’m writing songs in my head while you’re going over stuff with me — is that cruel??” In “Pocky” Eliza ends with a question that feels to me like the actual biography, succinct and revealing:
I don’t wanna be made to see
I just wanna ask “what’s that?”
Grace that ought to be rare, but in its care and precision is offered humbly, with great generosity, and without announcing itself. Eliza’s simple, miraculous music is given further form and shape by a group of collaborators – invaluable guest musicians Jeremy Ray, Evan Cartwright, Steven McPhail, Kenny Boothby, Ed Squires, Carolina Chauffe, Dorothea Paas, Louie Short, and Avalon Tassonyi. Together with Louie Short, who recorded, mixed, and produced the album along with Jeremy Ray and Lukas Cheung, Eliza has cultivated a richness in sound and texture that prods and provokes the ticklish ear. Barely audible guitar tinkering, a brief lo-fi field recording of trumpets, the harmonic clicking of a looped synthesizer, a flourish of reeds, a child’s conversation, each uncanny sound perfectly placed, rippling out under a soft breeze.
Lay in bed alone at night and ask aloud to the stillness,
“What were you doing at the Albuquerque Airport?
What were you doing there??”
And hear your question answered by a dream of swelling, undulating cellos. Try to grasp at the melody and structure. It’s not an answer (if there could be one), but it moves deeper, closer to the weird layer of fleeting moments and disconnected images, barely perceptible at its core. Wait for the dream reel to click into place.
Eliza took me for a ride in Nicole (her beloved Dodge Grand Caravan) and told me she’d been thinking of the album as an embodiment of transition – and I think every transition, known or unknown, carries the weight of new meaning, skittering off the surface tension of life as you know it, creating ripples, sometimes bouncing off and sometimes breaking through. There is a trick you can use to tell if a dough is glutinous enough. You’re supposed to stretch it out as thin as you can without breaking it and hold it up to the light. If you can see through, even if it renders the world murky and uncertain, you should leave it alone. I love this trick. It’s one that Eliza seems to know intuitively: work gently and ask questions and don’t always expect answers, and when you can, take a glimpse at something new, and then leave.
Now and again, an album project with no home comes along out of the blue, demanding to be licensed and shared with the world.
It was unearthed on one of Paper's digging trips. BOM's album sounded like nothing else out there, only the future. Shrouded in mystery and country-of-origin unknown, Africa runs through its DNA, but sometimes mysteries are best left...
Ase - a Yoruba philosophy signifying the power that makes things happen and produces change; given to Gods, ancestors, spirits, humans, animals, plants, rocks, rivers, songs and prayers.
BOM takes influence from all corners of Africa and its diaspora, blending them with 25 years of Western electronic music into a melange of forward facing, leftfield afro futurism.
The album features one of Africa's brightest rising stars, Luka Productions (from Mali), cosmic poet Sirius Rush (UK) and master drummer & vocalist Felix Ngindu (DRC/Liverpool) for a journey into kaleidoscopic Afro-tech funk. Gqom, Shangaan electro and township funk rub shoulders with hip-hop, bass, deep house and dub for a psychedelic celebration of collaboration and possibility.
As geographical and musical barriers are broken down, BOM's 'Ase' album is leading the charge; London to Lagos, Lisbon to Sao Paulo, Bamako to Berlin, BOM captures the sound of the underground.
Man-of-the-minute Jorg Kuning returns to Facta & K-LONE’s Wisdom Teeth imprint with ‘Elvers Pass’: a new 6-track exposition of his singular sound, and his most accomplished and comprehensive work to date. By now, the Jorg Kuning trademark is well established. Cherrypicking influences from the wiggiest ends of tech house, electro and bass music, his music is instantly set apart by his totally unique sound palette.
In fact, it’s hard to think of another club artist who has emerged with such a distinct and recognisable voice in recent years. Bubbling and funky with that unmistakable dose of wonk, you can tell a Jorg Kuning tune the minute it enters the mix. Since last appearing on Wisdom Teeth with 2022’s ‘Chosta-del-sol’ EP, the Welshpool-based artist has become a cult name on the global club and festival circuit - his must-see live set turning heads wherever he pitches up. Anybody who frequents the summer circuits around Freerotation, Love International, Gottwood and Dimensions will know exactly what we’re talking about. Along the way he has picked up a number of ardent and outspoken fans, including Lukas Wigflex and Koreless - the latter of whom tapped Jorg for a stellar remix on last year’s ‘Deceltica’ EP on Young. On ‘Elvers Pass’, Jorg manages to ring an exceptionally rich diversity of life from the circuitry of his modular machines.
The record’s melodies flutter and swirl like deep-sea creatures, and his synths ooze as if dredged from some primordial swamp. More so than ever, a host of otherworldly voices have begun to creep into his music: ‘Mercedes’ centres around a fluttering chorus of disembodied vocal chops, while ‘Synthetic Squashies’ rocks back and forth on a looping dialog between two AI chatbots. Across the record, synths mimic animal vocal tones, from the belching bass licks on ‘Skudde’ to the amphibious synth groans on ‘Teen Frogue’. Playful, oddball and in a class of its own, ‘Elvers Pass’ is a welcome New Year offering for ravers and club adventurers worldwide.
Kneading dough is tricky – you should know how it’s supposed to feel. If you try too hard you could make it worse. It’s a beautiful practice – creation with a gentle touch, to work at something so it can be left alone. “If it’s too drawn out it’s awful. It’s easy to give too much.” Dance in the mirror. Contemplate your veiny hands. Who do they remind you of?
You begin by mixing flour and water. “What happens when your people die? Why’d they move the rock to the other side of Ulster Park?” Eliza Niemi asks two seemingly unrelated questions in a rising melody with guitar accompaniment, like fingers playing spider up to the nape of your neck. Gentle pressure. Strands of gluten form to bind the mix. A new question lingers in the binding. When she admits “but I don’t know how to tell if I’m feeling it or not,” that question surfaces through the text. It is reiterated throughout the album. When I’m working with dough I think the same thing to myself.
On Progress Bakery, her second album as a solo artist, Eliza knows to leave some questions alone – to let juxtaposition and tension be the proof. It doesn’t have to be hard. The feelings and revelations they provoke rise in the heat. The smell is sweet. Crispy on the outside and soft all the way through. She playfully slip-slides through words and sounds and images, delighting in surprise, skimming ideas like stones cast across clear water, touching down briefly with uncommon grace.
The question provoked between those opening lines resurfaces in the strands between songs – “Do U FM” is fully formed and beautifully layered, while “Novelist Sad Face” is a short, acapella rendering of gentle curiosity. What is holding these ideas together? Some songs demand more, seem to carry a whole load – eventually the skipping stone will halt to sink and resume its idle duty – while others drift in and out of focus, the way thoughts and dreams become interwoven before the mind is sunk into true sleep.
Music and words don’t always have to interact. Where she decides to keep them apart gives a new contour to where and how she puts them together. The kind of thing you’re supposed to take for granted with songs and their singers comes alive in Eliza’s hands – the little miracle of mixing, kneading, stretching, and stopping.
So often on Progress Bakery, Eliza teases out truth and meaning by asking questions. “Do I wanna be crying?” “Do you want me good or do you want me bad?” “Do I need an eye test?” “I’m writing songs in my head while you’re going over stuff with me — is that cruel??” In “Pocky” Eliza ends with a question that feels to me like the actual biography, succinct and revealing:
I don’t wanna be made to see
I just wanna ask “what’s that?”
Grace that ought to be rare, but in its care and precision is offered humbly, with great generosity, and without announcing itself. Eliza’s simple, miraculous music is given further form and shape by a group of collaborators – invaluable guest musicians Jeremy Ray, Evan Cartwright, Steven McPhail, Kenny Boothby, Ed Squires, Carolina Chauffe, Dorothea Paas, Louie Short, and Avalon Tassonyi. Together with Louie Short, who recorded, mixed, and produced the album along with Jeremy Ray and Lukas Cheung, Eliza has cultivated a richness in sound and texture that prods and provokes the ticklish ear. Barely audible guitar tinkering, a brief lo-fi field recording of trumpets, the harmonic clicking of a looped synthesizer, a flourish of reeds, a child’s conversation, each uncanny sound perfectly placed, rippling out under a soft breeze.
Lay in bed alone at night and ask aloud to the stillness,
“What were you doing at the Albuquerque Airport?
What were you doing there??”
And hear your question answered by a dream of swelling, undulating cellos. Try to grasp at the melody and structure. It’s not an answer (if there could be one), but it moves deeper, closer to the weird layer of fleeting moments and disconnected images, barely perceptible at its core. Wait for the dream reel to click into place.
Eliza took me for a ride in Nicole (her beloved Dodge Grand Caravan) and told me she’d been thinking of the album as an embodiment of transition – and I think every transition, known or unknown, carries the weight of new meaning, skittering off the surface tension of life as you know it, creating ripples, sometimes bouncing off and sometimes breaking through. There is a trick you can use to tell if a dough is glutinous enough. You’re supposed to stretch it out as thin as you can without breaking it and hold it up to the light. If you can see through, even if it renders the world murky and uncertain, you should leave it alone. I love this trick. It’s one that Eliza seems to know intuitively: work gently and ask questions and don’t always expect answers, and when you can, take a glimpse at something new, and then leave.
