Search:man with no shadow

“Innovative, hooky and full of depth” - Far Out Magazine

“Songs that lodge into your brain in the opening ten seconds” - Brooklyn Vegan

“Breezy, melodic… a clear ear for a hook” - UNCUT

“Playful and unexpected, emotional but not overstated” - CLUNK

‘Crows’ is the new single from Bristol’s Langkamer and the first to be revealed from their new album ‘No’, which is due for release on 22nd January 2026. Their fourth album in as many years, ‘No’ saw the prolific band taking to the mountains at the invitation of veteran producer Remko Schouten (Pavement, Personal Trainer, Bull). The much loved Bristol band holed up for a week in the wilds of Southern Spain at his brand new Zarzalico studio. Over a week, under the Murcian heat, they laid down the perfectly formed eleven tracks that make up ‘No’.

Since the band’s conception, Langkamer have worked out of anywhere affordable and available, whether it be the basements of renowned venues (‘West Country’, ‘Red Thread Route’, ‘Langzamer’) or secluded cottages (‘The Noon And Midnight Manual’). Over the years, their frenetic pace and quality of writing has earned them fans across the world, plaudits at UK media, and built an ever-growing musical community around them - not least via Breakfast Records - the independent label that is home to Getdown Services - formed by Langkamer’s Dan Anthony and Josh Jarman in 2006 alongside acclaimed singer-songwriter Jasmine 4.T.

To call Langkamer ‘your mid-level indie bands favourite mid-level indie band” sells them short. They have always scraped by on irregular incomes, plagued both by daily financial pressures and the occasional cash sinkhole so well known to any musician in the current impossible climate. Once Schouten offered to host them at his new studio (Zarzalico), they couldn’t refuse. A relentless recording schedule found the group only breaking for the daily long lunch and to occasionally fire an airgun across the hills. If the last half a decade had been a pressure cooker of constant touring and recording, their brief time in the remote Zarzalico could not have been more symbolic. Lead single ‘Crows’ perfectly captures this nervy balance and is a wiry slice of atmospheric proto-punk, drawing from the shadows of the late-70s UK landscapeit also defies these conventions, striking an anthemic chord from beginning to end. From the scaling chromatic guitars at the breakdown, to the final chants of ‘suffer’ and ‘struggle’, there’s a loud desperation and defiance to ‘Crows’ that lends it an unparalleled urgency. As singer/drummer Josh Jarman states:

“Crows is a song about the crazy shapes we contort ourselves into trying to create art in the era of late-stage capitalism. Working a thousand jobs. Writing songs with the left hand while writing emails with the right hand. Your day is already doomed the moment you open your eyes. Everything’s a bad omen.”.

With ‘No’ arriving early next year, ‘Crows’ is the perfect introduction to Langkamer, a band that has only taken new bold steps with each release, always hiding a keen experimentalism behind a charming hook. It is also the surest sign yet that they are ready to step up, and take on the road once again vision unclouded.

2026 Repress

Flickering in ultraviolet, there is an elusive place where blue pill meets red, ups become downs, and day merges with night. Those liminal spaces where anything is possible is where you’ll find Nightbus and their hypnotic debut album Passenger. Doom, uncertainty, and opportunity lurk in the shadowy corners of their murky existence with stops at disassociation, co-dependency, and addiction before reaching its final destination - a glimmer of hope.

The in-between of Nightbus’ own Gotham lies where Manchester’s city pulse meets Stockport’s outer realm. An audio-visual entity formed among a musical family of friends, freaks, and foes in messy mills and after hours on dancefloors alike, their sound bleeds from tension where collective creative forces are bound together and collide with the fallout of being torn apart. Before even playing a show, their So Young released single ‘Mirrors’ – a knowing nod of respect to some well-known gloomy Northerners - may have made old school indie heads shimmy at shows in Salford’s The White Hotel but also signalled the duo’s knack for offering listeners a Bandersnatch approach to hitchhiking their own personal Nightbus in whatever direction they choose to take. “Everyone can have their moment with our songs; the music is our response to who we are as young people, living in the city full of this energy right now,” they say.

Whilst reverb hefty melodies and dread-filled loops embody isolation from writing at each of their home studio set-ups, magic happens in the ether across 90s trip-hop, indie sleaze and electronica; Jake’s production layers Olive’s pop sentimentality with drums and samples whilst tales of a cast of faceless characters place Olive as puppet master; her severed self’s perspective manipulating their stringed limbs at arm’s length to see how their stories play out when scenes reflecting her own lie close to the bone. “It’s a bit fucked; like having this out of body experience with a made-up movie running through my head,” she says. “As I write I can see they’re all from a similar world, but they allow me to explore different feelings without giving away part of myself.”

Recorded at The Nave in Leeds with producer-engineer Alex Greaves (Heavy Lungs, Working Men’s Club), surprise and danger lies in every crevice. Brooding whispers turn to chants on 6-minute opus ‘Host.’ Improvised when performed live, its immersive shift in tempo leads to hefty dub courtesy of Jake’s pedals. Even then, you won’t know shit’s hit the fan until its mid-point reveal when ominous bass blasts a thunderous soundtrack as its protagonist defiantly walks away after committing the perfect crime. “It makes you wait, and more songs should have sirens,” Olive grins.

Leaning deeper into alter-egos via the video game-psychological horror of a Silent Hill dystopia, the band’s Fight Club moment ‘Angles Mortz’ turns its literal translation of death angles on its head as it reflects upon kink and internalised shame reincarnated as pride. Elsewhere the ice cool ‘Landslide’ is a Requiem for a Dream about the addiction of being in a band; ‘The Void’ explores co-dependency and estranged relationships; and carefully selected samples revive house track ‘Just A Kid’ from the band’s early incarnation. Passenger’s every direction is to face challenges head on. “That is what’s so great about horror; you can see through predictable patterns so when the unexpected occurs it's more realistic and uncomfortable… I want to own the dark stuff!”

As for Passenger’s first single, the pulsating ‘Ascension’ is a spiralling deep dive into death, suicide, and legacy around who or what we leave behind. A noughties club banger by way of NYC beats - ergonomically designed for those who like to stay out a little too often and too late - it throbs like a house party’s partition wall as the literal levelling up undergoes a neon transformation; blue glitching to pink, diffusing the white construct of the Nightbus Matrix. “It really does feel like the end of something and was purposely written that way,” they say, “the ascension is like a firework going off!”

With wheels in motion, Nightbus has become a movement surpassing sonic realms. Between shows from Porto to Brighton taking in The Great Escape, Rotterdam’s Left Of The Dial and Paris’ Supersonic; DJing; remixing; guesting (BDRMM’s Microtonic album); and even enlisting talented like-minds to craft a 3-part queer coming-of-age music video series which ties in with a new ‘hyperpop’ phase in the evolution of their popular Nightbus Soundsystem club night, heads are now being turned from sports brands to high-end fashion designers. “There are things we can’t reveal just yet,” tells Olive, “but we’re excited about the direction this beast we’ve created is heading.” As the album philosophises and asks one ultimate question; what does it truly mean to be ‘Passenger’? Nightbus may not claim to offer a definitive answer, but it might make you feel a bit better about those demons.

Disco Mind Records impressed everyone with its first EP and now it deals with the pressure of coming back with a second in fine fashion. This one is perfect for warm days and summer nights as it offers four high-impact and gloriously feel-good Brazilian and disco edits all pulled off to perfection. New young talent Brother Julian kicks off with a peak time and groovy burner, then disco don Romand Truth goes a little more deep and smooth with his seductive sound. Delfonic offers the percussive Latin grooves of 'Nada is Going to Change' and 'Grito de Guerra' is another upbeat open-air rhythm.

French chanson, electro beats, pared-down or synthetic piano: at 21, Iliona draws on all of this. Plural, multifaceted, elusive. Yet her lyrics resonate as if one were singing heartache—and the love one hopes for—for the very first time.
She composes, records, and produces her tracks alone, determined to keep them as close as possible to the tunes, harmonies, and silhouettes she holds in her mind. This time, they are infused with the light of an intense love, and still carried by extreme sparseness in their arrangements: nothing—from electronic arpeggios to melodic autotune—is ever superfluous; everything has its place. Lifted by a new lightness, the tracks also echo the spirit of the yéyé sound Iliona has been listening to for a few years, without necessarily knowing the name of every songwriter or the mark they left behind. It’s their longing for carefree abandon that hovers over the hypnotic Si tu m’aimes demain and its music video inspired by the New Wave, the Beatles, and all those future memories you begin to build when you’re in love.


A gentle warmth also sweeps through the hazy doo-wop contours of Tête brûlée, and the lo-fi twist of Cocoon; but always with that veil of shadow that once floated over the apparent nonchalance of Françoise Hardy’s songs. That unease, that worried smile, resurfaces in the lovely pop gallop of Garçon manqué, an ode to the deepest friendships—the ones you hold in your arms to dance or, sometimes, to cry. Or in the delicate Cent fois, which whispers, “when will the movie scenes we quietly dreamed of come to life?”
The answer, perhaps, lies in wherever you hide, the party finds you, a superb soundtrack to an imaginary drama, whose venomous keyboards unfold the pictorial strength of Iliona’s songs.

Shadows Lifted from Invisible Hands is an autobiographical record, comprised of four songs that Hoff refers to as ambient media. Each track is composed from sources drawn from his own involuntary aural landscape, specifically musical earworms and tinnitus frequencies.

Neither sound nor a daydream, the earworm (or stuck song) emblematizes music as a commercial form—immediate, ubiquitous, and persistent. Likewise, tinnitus is inaudible and unscrupulous, manifesting across a spectrum of frequencies at will. The cognitive swirling of these phenomena provides an ambivalent, internal soundtrack that scores a person’s movement through the world.

Those suffering from tinnitus or those who have grown accustomed to the “Tinnitus Effect” in movies will likely recognize the buzzing pitches on the record, but will likely not recognize the songs. Distorted and distilled, Shadows Lifted from Invisible Hands features altered versions of four commercial pop songs: Blondie’s “Heart of Glass,” David Bowie’s “Space Oddity,” Madonna’s “Into the Groove,” and Lou Reed’s “Perfect Day.”

Having been haunted by these songs on and off for years, Hoff tweaks the tracks, transposing and recomposing them for orchestral instrumentation. Speaking back to these involuntary echoes, these tracks go to great lengths to obfuscate their sources; to be sure not to simply re-introduce each earworm, as though they were samples. Otherwise, what’s the point? No one needs another stream.

Besides, earworms are not music, although we perceive them as such. They are non-cochlear and exist as an affective force that is neither subjective nor objective, which is to say they are an invasive—and alien—phenomenon. Like tinnitus, they are aggravated by economic, social, and environmental forces as well as emotional states, mental health, and aging. Hoff doesn’t underplay his own struggles with mental health in discussing the record—noting a long history of depression and its acuteness over the last few years, which serve as the backdrop to the composition of this record.

Scratch any pop song hard enough and you’ll find sadness underneath it. Subdermal, the songs on this record evoke a type of ephemeral weariness and despair. By recasting the original songs through their shadowy doubles, Hoff provides a window into the dark core of pop music. At the center of which lies capitalism’s desperate attempt to replicate itself through a cheap high built on echoing refrains. Just below the surface the listener finds a hangover of shadows dancing through the mind.

Montreal indie rock trio Plants and Animals announce "The Jungle", their fifth studio album set to be released October 23rd via Secret City Records. Their shortest album yet and certainly their boldest, "The Jungle" is eight acts in a world full of noise. The album is auto-produced and was recorded at Mixart, their studio in Montreal. The band explains : "We started working on this a couple of years ago. Warren was afraid for a friend's health. He thought he was self-medicating too much and not taking care of himself. He couldn't let go of this image of an overworked dude swallowing too many sleeping pills and falling asleep with the stove on. So it began as the place next door, sometime before Greta Thunberg turned the expression into a rallying cry, where Earth is the house and the people are sleeping. It's terrifying, and on the whole we're not unlike this friend, are we?" "The Jungle" starts with electronic drums that sound like insects at night. A whole universe comes alive in the dark. It's beautiful, complex and unsettling. Systematic and chaotic. All instinct, no plan. Voices taunt,"yeah yeah yeah." This tangled time in which we find ourselves is reflected back in shadows. Every song is such a landscape. The first one grinds to a halt and you become a kid looking out a car window at the moon, wondering how it's still on your tail as you speed past a steady blur of trees. You watch a house go up in a yellow strobe that echoes the disco weirdness of Giorgio Moroder, Donna Summer and David Bowie. You get pummelled by a rhythm then set free by a sudden change of scenery_the wind stops, clarity returns. You're under a streetlight in Queens, soft-focus, slow motion, falling in love. You speak French now too, in case you didn't already. Bienvenue. These are personal experiences made in a volatile world, and they reflect that world right back at us, even by accident. There's one song Nic sings to his teenage son who was dealing with climate change anxiety and drifting into uncharted independence. The band carries it out slowly together into a sweet blue horizon. Warren wrote the words to another shortly after losing his father. It's about the things we inherit not necessarily being the things we want. In a broader sense, that's where a lot of people find themselves right now.

“Stuck in My Head / Home is Behind” marks the most profound and personal release from Jamie Collomb, known to many as Oneduz - artist, father, husband, and co-founder of The Global DNB Collective. This vinyl project, created with unwavering passion and intention, was Jamie’s proudest work, a true reflection of his artistic soul.
Tragically, Jamie passed away unexpectedly just as the record entered production. Featuring original tracks by Eclipsed Shadows and Noisesmith, and powerful remixes by two of Jamie’s heroes: drum & bass legends Blame, and longtime friend and inspiration Danny Styles. This release stands as both a musical statement and a lasting tribute.
Following Jamie’s passing, his creative partner Andy (Syntax Era) and GDNBC designer Ryan Feyler (Drbblz) came together to carry his vision across the finish line. Every detail of this release honors Jamie’s legacy.
All profits from this album will go directly to support Jamie’s wife, Shanda, and their two young children, Porter and Hadley. This is more than a record, it’s a celebration of Jamie’s life, his music, and the community he helped build.

Eisenmund, the debut by Berlin-based Schimmel über Berlin is a thing of pounding, brittle beauty that seeks to continue on from where angst-ridden, early-eighties Berlin left off. Angular, monophonic synths, guitars that slice through with wiry yet melodic urgency, basslines that pulse with a taut, driven precision and drums that meld everything together. Liv Billerbeck’s vocals come from the middle distance, drifting between detached and desperate, as if transmitted through a wintery cityscape.

Title track Eisenmund jangles with reedy synths floating over a carpet of bass and mournful vocals dripping with a sense of loss. This mood spills over into the other tracks, like post-punk jewel Schreck with its iridescently lovely guitars.

Eisenmund is sharp, atmospheric, and quietly thrilling - proof that the shadows of the eighties can still dance under today's flickering lights. The album, immaculately produced by T-Rex, captures that classic post-punk mood of urban decay, late-night introspection and stubborn sense of motion, which for someone like me, who was there back in the day, seems utterly familiar without ever sinking into mere nostalgia.

Fiona Sangster (Xmal Deutschland)
Die Band Schimmel über Berlin ist eines der vielen Klanggesichter der Liv Billerbeck, ein Gesicht, das man niemals sieht, das im Verborgenen sich umblickt und agiert und das trotzdem aber in einer seltenen Klarheit erscheint. Man sieht es beim Hören, schemenhaft. Ihr Schaffen ist befallen vom West-Berlin der 1980er Jahre (Xmal Deutschland, Malaria etc.).

Eine Rolle, gerade in der musikalischen Brillanz und Produktionsraffinesse, spielt britischer Post-Punk, der sich sehr klar auch im treibenden Spiel von T-Rex ​​​(Bass + Produktion), Việt Phương Vũ (Gitarre) und Christian Ramisch (Schlagzeug – mit Phương übrigens bei der ebenfalls sehr guten Band NOJ) zeigt: The Sound, Killing Joke et. al.!

Es handelt sich bei dieser Musik um einen Sound mit retroesquem Anstrich, der spürbar eine vergangene Luft atmet, einer Nostalgie an eine ferne Zeit anheimfällt, die das Quartett ob ihres Alters nicht erlebt haben kann, und die vielmehr eine Sehnsucht bedeutet, in der Unerfüllbarkeit eine Melancholie mitbringt, eine Art treibende Traurigkeit spürbar macht. Das allein ist groß! Was weitergehend daran aber so interessant, besonders und wahnsinnig schön ist: Das klingt in Billerbecks Schaffen – und insbesondere hier, beim Schimmel über Berlin – nicht wie eine Kopie, ein Abklatsch, eine Reminiszenz oder das, was in der so called NNDW bald flächendeckend geschieht: das Anzapfen einer überholten Coolness. Denn etwas ist ganz gegenwärtig daran, in der Eigenständigkeit, macht einem eindringlich das Hier und Jetzt spürbar, auf unterschiedlichen Ebenen: Traurigkeit, ja, aber auch Bock, bis in die Morgenstunden auszugehen, schnellen Schrittes über rutschiges Kopfsteinpflaster zu traben. Musik dann wieder zum Verkrümeln in zugigen Altbauten, von Schreien über einen nebelbedeckten See im Umland Berlins.

Und eben kein Eskapismus, auch wenn die Musik zur Flucht taugte. Merkwürdig ist, dass in dieser Retroschleife dann etwas Märchenhaftes mitschwingt. Vielleicht liegt es auch in der authentischen 1980er-Jahre Produktion, in der immer wieder so ein Klimpern, ein Schellen durchkommt. Es mag aber auch an den Texten liegen, die etwas von Minnesang haben und in ihrer Klarheit, die aus der Kühle und den Kargheiten (der Vergangenheit, der Gegenwart, der Zukunft) entsteht, doch Wärme transportieren.

Wir hören darin heute, trotz all dem Bewusstsein für die Vergangenheit, den Sound einer seltenen Dichterin der Gegenwart. Das ist von einer Intensität, die einen bald absorbiert. Eisenmund etwa, das Titelstück, ist so ein Song, bei dem man sich hinsetzen oder gleich hinlegen muss. Da sind Dinge, die man nicht ändern kann. Wie geht das? Also: nach vorne, heftig, und dann aber so weich und traurig. Hätten Schimmel über Berlin die 1980er-Jahre dieser Stadt beschallt, sie wären hiermit, das mögen sie selbst vielleicht gar nicht hören, die Helden dieser Zeit gewesen. Eisenmund ist das tollste Album, das mir seit Jahren begegnet ist – und die bisherige Klimax dessen, was aus der Allee der Kosmonauten hervorgeht.

Und wenn man das alles so hört, aufmerksam hört, wird einem, obwohl das alles so ein einziger, riesiger Hit ist, völlig klar: Hier geht es nicht darum, irgendwo damit zu landen, irgendwo mitzumischen, erfolgreich zu sein oder in aller Munde. Hier geht es darum, einfach nur genau das zu machen, was es ist! Alles andere ist egal.

Der Klagegesang wird mich immer umwehen.

– Hendrik Otremba

Le Corbeau, the brainchild of Oystein Sandsdalen (Serena Maneesh), has become a formidable collective. here with a trilogy of albums spanning eight years. Why such a productive group choses to release twenty-seven songs simultaneously may be a greater reflection on the myopic nature of record labels -The mystic deities of noir have returned. "The band"s sound bows to the vestiges of V.U., Sonic Youth, and Lynchian glamour- but each of the three albums show ambition to go beyond, by player freedom and improv, exploring textural layers, and nuancing each groove. Many songs remind us what we loved in 2009`s Evening Chill / Montreal of the Mind - surrealistic, seductive, draped in velvet. Some circle to the familiar with punk fuzz and playful themes, like "1000 eyed behemoth": about leaving Oslo"s night life behind. Other times, they are creators of their own classics. Opening track to VI: Sun Creeps Up the Wall, "Blossom with an Evil Light" recorded between 2017-2018, illuminates a a new path of change. The long anticipation is over- come enter the murky and magical waters of Le Corbeau." -Ann Sung-an Lee

From the humdrum to the huge; Tiia explores heartbreak, disappointment, climate change, and dying house plants. The record plays with contrasts, light and shadow, fizz and gloom. Keys melt into darker textures before guitars and drums lift them back into sparkle. It's heaviest moment is the title track, written in an airport bathroom after Tiia's father passed, yet even here, hope breaks through in irresistible vocal harmonies and inventive melodies. "To me, 'Kind Eyes' is a feelings record," Tiia says. "The grief for my dad passing sits at the centre and expands towards the edges, but there's a range of other feelings too. Sometimes they're hard to pin down and navigate but the songs are my map, trying to chart where you are and where you're going. And listeners should remember that sometimes X does mark the spot."

Lead single 'Healing' hits like a mascara- smeared midnight drive through Lynch's America. First sketched with Prince in mind, it finally found its teeth on a long, lonely walk in north-east London: a rock song hiding in plain sight. Tiia says "As soon as I had a rough idea for the driving beat, I knew I had to get Sean Berry (fellow bandmate from the once mighty Comet Sands) involved on the guitar, and the hooks all fell into place". Dusted with plush keys, on 'Numbers Game', Tiia leans into classic rock drama - warmth turning suddenly cold, the floor falling away from underneath you. "The lesson here is don't spy on your exes, but when you do, be prepared to write a song about it. It was the first track I asked Paul Rains (of Allo Darlin' fame) to play guitar on and he instantly got where I was trying to go with it. Now he's my partner, I have no idea how he feels about the lyrics!" Tiia laughs. Having also worked with Tiia's previous cult all-girl indie band The Minor Characters, Seb Kellig lent his trademark dub- inspired production influences at the legendary sonic heaven of Sausage Studios, east London, which Tiia calls "My happy place".

Tiia will again be playing keys for Allo Darlin's four UK tour dates this October followed by tour dates as Count Jaakola. 'Kind Eyes' is set for release 21st November 2025 via Tip Top Recordings (Mandrake Handshake, Japanese Television, Pearl & The Oysters, Golden Toad).

Forever's spirit is high and tight, its sinews rumbling with communal joy as Glyders' power-trio formation, in it "for life", grooves deep into their own thing. Shuffling the deck with road-tested jams and a couple immaculate old-school tunes, Forever hits with the energy of a first album - which it kinda is, now that founders Joshua Condon and Eliza Weber have met their true other, the relentless traps-man Joe Seger. Forever starts now!

After completing his nationwide run with Ice Nine kills, the rocker has been hard at work prepping Cruel World. The collection of songs includes several notable features, including the likes of From First To Last, as well as Ice Nine Kills. The 9-song minialbum is chock full of TX2's well-known hard-hitting sinister sound, and he's bringing an added dose of heavy with these new songs as well. Fan-favorite track "MAD," which has seen 10,000+ video creates on TikTok and has created an unstoppable buzz around the project. Rising out of the shadows of a small town known for music, Fort Collins; TX2 brings an unmatchable intensity in his music through the form of powerful raw lyrics and explosive performances. After struggling for so many years as an artist, TX2 used his pain as fuel and finally found his sound. As a result, his music went viral on TikTok and he now has ~800K followers on the platform. TX2 has since begun a movement known among his fans known as the "X Movement", which is all about bringing awareness to mental health and creating a safe space for those in need to talk. The rules are simple, any member can vent and share how they are feeling, while other members are encouraged to push other members' self-esteem up. The movement is currently growing every day, providing a platform to speak about mental health, vent, and support one another. TX2 wants everyone to know they are not alone in their struggles. The nine rack minialbum is available on CD & LP!

In May, fans were treated to the first new music from Trentemøller since 2022. A new single, "A Different Light," showcased a stunning blend of prismatic space rock and folk. For anyone wondering if it foreshadowed the release of a full-length, Dreamweaver will drop in September, on Friday the 13th.
Featuring 10 tracks that traverse Trentemøller's many musical strengths, Dreamweaver also represents an obvious artistic leap, treading new ground while retaining the overall plot. Tracks featuring vocals come courtesy of of Iceland's Disa, who has been in Trentemøller's fold since the Memoria tour.
Dreamweaver's nylon string-led opening track, and first single from the album, "A Different Light," contains many of Trentemøller's trademarks: exploring dichotomies, musical shadowplay, Nordic frigidity, and warm waves. It opens the door for the steady, hypnotic "Nightfall," with its tetherless vocal, wistful guitars, and early morning desert chill. The third track in the opening trifecta, "Dreamweavers" finds its footing with a percussive soft trot, which starts after what feels like a shortwave radio scan in search of the right chords, eventually dialing in a weightless voice. Ostensibly keeping a ruminative pace with the previous two tracks, the song and, by extension, album soon opens up as the rest of the elements drop into place with a grand, luxurious burst.
Dreamweaver is about to enter its next phase. With the hatch blown off of the portal, the noisy "I Give My Tears," driven by its glissed and fuzzy bass line, pours into the void. It's followed by its sibling, the most chaotic track on Dreamweaver, "Behind My Eyes." Arriving as a piece of noise rock pandemonium, "Behind My Eyes," can't be contained in its plush vault. A whip-crack snare and convulsing guitars smash against each other in the song's verse chamber. The tension builds, as the particles collide, pushing past the point of critical mass, kicking off the chain reaction which is the chorus. At times it harkens back to the proto-gaze tracks that gave birth to dream pop, at others it newly defines what that is. There's no time to contemplate it, though, as the song disintegrates in a microphonic feedback instant.
A respite follows with the somnambulistic pair of "Hollow" and "Empty Beaches." Then, a moment of intensity returns as the soaring textures and tribal drum bursts of "In A Storm" take control, before being taken out with the ambient slo-core of "Winter's Ghost" and "Closure." This diptych wraps up an album which certainly feels on-script for Trentemøller, but is also much more psychedelic than previous offerings.
Dreamweaver will be released on Trentemøller's own In My Room label. It is an exceedingly immersive experience, bound to release any dormant hallucinations you may be harboring.

One of contemporary ambient’s preeminent figures lands on its leading label, enacting a transition into a new phase of rhythmic noise and tonal shadowplay laced with peculiar sensitivities, wrangling Dilloway-influenced tape noise thru ASMR ambience, fritzed dub techno, layered vocal drone and ritualistic mantras.

Perila steps up solo with a heavily satisfying debut for West Mineral, investigating negative space and states of subconsciousness. The shift in tone feeds forward into arcane realms of resonant dark ambient and dream-pop, harnessed in amorphous structures using dub-as-method. It’s wholly immersive stuff in a way that’s long been Perlia’s calling card, but here more careful in its command of personalised, atmospheric physics from the Coil-esque ‘cheerleader’, thru the deeply smudged and sexy trip hop of ‘lava’, and the oozing, sloshing OOBE-like spectres of ‘give it all’.

The title of the album is a reference to Carl Jung’s phrase "all haste is of the devil” which informs Perila’s writing process here; she slows down in an attempt to feel more and tap into her shadow self. Album opener 'cheerbleeder' is a doomed, tremolo-heavy mass of ghost notes, while the rattling chains and strangulated voices on ‘metal snax' sounds like they belong on a Wolf Eyes tape. 'grain levy tep dusk' strikes closer to recently unearthed industrial plates from Tolerance and Mentocome, with rusted clangs threaded into deflated, half-speed pulses. The album keeps growing from there, shifting and expanding as Perila exhales and absorbs her cognitive blind spots. She credits "trance states" for helping her let go, and we broadly get to experience that on the mantra-like 'thunder me' and the blurry all-vocal highlight 'hold my leg', which sounds like it could have been snatched from Grouper's 'Way Their Crept' sessions.

As with all of Alexandra Zakharenko’s work under various aliases - Aseptic Stir, Baby Bong, Wedontneedwords, Perila - her allure is self-evident to lovers of textured, diffuse electronics, and never more so than on this lip-bitingly potent suite of delicacies and primordial urges, perfectly balancing ancient and techngnostic aspects with an x-amount of seductive strangeness left in the margins.

Chris Menist pares his sound right back for A book of imaginary beings, his fourth Awkward Corners outing with a project of electronic and abstracted global grooves. Experimenting with simple melodies and uncluttered arrangements, as well as taking inspiration from the Borges' short stories alluded to in the title, the project took shape in the early part of 2025, in the shorter days and dark evenings of January.

The initial challenge was to knock a basic track into shape each evening after work, then refine it later. There's a melancholy in the air in late winter, compounded by the creeping threat of national and geopolitical instability. Ulla, Natural Information Society, Jabu, Torso and Dawuna formed some of the background soundtrack as each tune took shape.

The track titles came after sitting with the sounds for a while, giving shape to images of people, creatures and their stories for a book that is yet to be written.

Two former friends sets the tone for the album perfectly as a minimal electronic piece with a slowly simmering synth bassline underpinning the groove whilst the trademark Awkward sound of the Shahi Baaja enters drenched in effects. It's the first demonstration of Chris' unique ability to create a world from apparently very little.

Dance of the silver beetles is completely unique in that we can hear chopped up Illimba samples seemingly playing backwards and forewords sometimes alone, sometimes together in duet with Chris' conga rhythms. Add to that a more conventional Illimba melody and added shaker percussion and you have one of A book of imaginary beings most curious chapters.

Anxious shadow puppets is closer to the Awkward Corners sound from previous albums as electronic pulses move around the arrangement with the urgency that the track title suggests. Chris' percussive roots move to the fore with the congas that tie down the Paradise Bangkok Molam International Band's sound. Here, the bassline is more playful and works together with one of Chris' many African Illimbas.

Fans of Chris' adventures on his Roland 808 will dig A leopard with no spots, although the minimal mood continues to flow through on this track. The lolloping, but hard-hitting rhythm track provides the grounding for strange and twisting feedback-sounding tones to work the soundscape.

Abandoned boy (left in charge of the family business) is Awkward Corners at his atmospheric best. Drift off to the sublime sounds of Chris exploring the Shahi Baaja, whilst a soft, repetitive synth line and abstracted pads give the listener that feeling of meditation and peace.

Flamingo with bandaged neck is A book of imaginary beings' perfect coda and is exclusively Shahi Baaja draped in reverbs and delays. It feels like the resolution and the closing of a book that – as of yet – remains unwritten.

Awkward Corners is Chris Menist, a musician, DJ and writer. It started life as a small project in Islamabad, where Chris was living at the time. Initial recordings were made with local musicians in Pakistan and then subsequently in Thailand. This culminated in the Sweet Decay LP that came out on Finders Keepers' Disposable Music in 2014, and in turn led to a limited tape release on Boomkat/Reel Torque of original compositions and re-edits of Thai 45s the same year. Chris released – Dislocation Songs – his second LP proper with Shapes of Rhythm in May 2020, collaborating on many of the tracks with award-winning performer Sarathy Korwar. The LP was picked up by many radio stations including NTS, Resonance FM, BBC 6 Music, Balamii and many more. It made Tom Ravenscroft's LPs of 2020. Amateur Dramatics, Chris' second LP arrived just a year later in 2021 and was a more ambitious project featuring more jazz-focussed compositions and featuring Tamar Osborn and Kitty Whitelaw. Shortly after that came another pivot with the heavier, dancefloor-friendly EP Somebody Somewhere. Somebody Somewhere is Dancing in a Field brought the House (yes House!) vibes, whilst Hector Plimmer turned in a remix of No Words in the same club mood.

As one of NTS Radio's longest-standing presenters, Chris continues to hold down the Paradise Bangkok show. Playing drums and percussion since he was a kid, Chris is the percussionist for The Paradise Bangkok Molam International Band as well as co-founding the record label of the same name. Chris has curated compilations for labels such as Finders Keepers, Soundway and Dust-To-Digital. He has been featured on the Boiler Room, Vinyl Factory Collections, played at the Four Tet curated Nuits Sonores festival, and has put together an edition of Volumes which featured unreleased Awkward Corners compositions.






[d] 04: All the Goodbyes (You Tried to Defer) [Original]





[j] 10: Abandoned Boy (Left in Charge of the Family Business) [Original]

Found Keys is the debut album by American artist Ruth Maine. Although Ruth has been playing and composing music for over two decades, this is the first time she decided to record some of her varied compositions and share them with the public. But in times when it is the norm to clamour for attention, she prefers to go the opposite way. Ruth likes to let her music speak for itself and stay in the shadows.

The 16 short piano pieces heard on this album, each about two to three minutes long, were recorded remotely and purely surrounded by nature. Once a composition was found and Ruth considered it mature, she only recorded it once, embracing the beauty of doing something for the first time with all its little imperfections. Found Keys sounds anything but imperfect though. These compositions feel timeless, intimate and comforting, as if they have been around for a long time, like an old friend. Gently played keys slowly evolve into minimal pieces through repetitive melodies. There’s stillness as much as there’s brightness, sadness as much as joy; welcome to a beautiful journey through Ruth’s world of wonder.

In many ways, Found Keys is a deeply personal record that takes Sonic Pieces back to its roots. And it leaves a feeling of nostalgia while reviving memories of the past.

Found Keys is the debut album by American artist Ruth Maine. Although Ruth has been playing and composing music for over two decades, this is the first time she decided to record some of her varied compositions and share them with the public. But in times when it is the norm to clamour for attention, she prefers to go the opposite way. Ruth likes to let her music speak for itself and stay in the shadows.

The 16 short piano pieces heard on this album, each about two to three minutes long, were recorded remotely and purely surrounded by nature. Once a composition was found and Ruth considered it mature, she only recorded it once, embracing the beauty of doing something for the first time with all its little imperfections. Found Keys sounds anything but imperfect though. These compositions feel timeless, intimate and comforting, as if they have been around for a long time, like an old friend. Gently played keys slowly evolve into minimal pieces through repetitive melodies. There’s stillness as much as there’s brightness, sadness as much as joy; welcome to a beautiful journey through Ruth’s world of wonder.

In many ways, Found Keys is a deeply personal record that takes Sonic Pieces back to its roots. And it leaves a feeling of nostalgia while reviving memories of the past.

Hailing from the northern city of Oulu and featuring members of esteemed Finnish outfits such as Haapoja, Dart, and Renate/Cordate, TRYPANON have steadily emerged as one of the most compelling and unorthodox underground acts in recent memory. Their 2021 debut "Amentia" earned widespread acclaim for its suffocating intensity and bleak atmospheres, establishing the band as a vital force in the realms of extreme music. With "Through the Portal of Flesh to Achieve Divinity", TRYPANON push their vision even further into the void. The album is a nightmarish fusion of down-tuned sludge, chaotic death metal, and dissonant black metal, woven together with progressive flourishes and hypnotic melodic fragments. The result is a deeply immersive and punishing listening experience that recalls the extremity of bands like Lord Mantis, Coffinworm and Cobalt, while retaining a sonic and conceptual identity entirely its own. Where "Amentia" was a descent into psychological collapse, "Through the Portal..." drags the listener through a ritualistic transformation - an existential death trip that explores themes of corporeal transcendence, spiritual ruin and ecstatic suffering. The record was conceived not only as an artistic evolution, but as an act of purification through sound: hostile, enveloping and uncompromising. This release marks a significant step forward for TRYPANON, both in scope and execution. Expect a record steeped in raw emotion and relentless aggression, but also rich in nuance and disturbing beauty.

Returning with its final instalments, Die Schachtel's Decay Music series extends its explorations of inspired contemporary experimental efforts of the ambient, ethereal, and emotively abstract with Luigi Turra and Elio Martusciello’s “Liminale” and Sergio Armaroli and David Toop’s “And I Entered Into Sleep”, two astounding electroacoustic gestures of blurred space and time, plumbing complexity of meaning bound to sonority. Creatively groundbreaking and inspired, radically rethinking the terms of what ambient music can be perceived to be, they stand among the most striking efforts to appear within the series to date.

Reconfiguring the notion of bridge building on a multitude of terms, it feels fitting that the tenth and final installment of Die Schachtel’s Decay Music series, Sergio Armaroli and David Toop’s “And I Entered Into Sleep”, was co-created by an artist whose work featured in the first suite of LPs issued by Brian Eno’s Obscure Records in 1975, the groundwork toward which Decay Music’s own efforts nod. Since that auspicious debut, “New and Rediscovered Musical Instruments” — his split with Max Eastley — David Toop has been regarded as a pioneer in British experimental and improvised music: a sonic voyager who has continuously challenged the sources and materiality of sound through rigorously thoughtful performances, a vast catalog of recordings, and a steady flow of highly influential texts. Be it as a member of Alterations, his group breaking group with Peter Cusack, Terry Day, and Steve Beresford that ran between 1977 to 1986, or through is noteworthy work with artists like Rie Nakajima, Thurston Moore, Paul Burwell, Rhodri Davies, Lee Patterson, Ryuichi Sakamoto, Akio Suzuki, Elaine Mitchener, and numerous others, collaboration has always played a central role within Toop’s singular practice, but few can claim the sprawling sense of beauty and intimacy that’s achieved by “And I Entered Into Sleep”, his first recorded outing with Sergio Armaroli.

A composer, percussionist, vibraphonist, and multidisciplinary artist, Armaroli has been issuing radical and forward-thinking musical gestures for decades, working as one of Italy’s most noteworthy interpreters of composer’s like Giacinto Scelsi, John Cage, Franco Evangelisti, Giancarlo Schiaffini, and Walter Branchi, as both a solo performer and member of the highly regarded Rib Trio, as well as forging a singular practice as a composer, intertwining his efforts as a painter, concrete percussionist, fragmentary poet and sound artist, within a total art, rooted “within the language of jazz and improvisation” as an “extension of the concept of art”. Like Toop, Armaroli’s career has been populated by many collaborators, notably with Riccardo Sinigaglia, Alvin Curran, and Walter Prati, among others, setting the stage for a remarkable meeting between the pair.

Featuring Armaroli on vibraphone and prepared vibraphone and Toop on electronics, “And I Entered Into Sleep” is “a sonic journey, a Proustian suggestion à la Recherche, into the unconscious between electronic and acoustic sounds”. Using a bell that sounds at the beginning of Proust’s “À la Recherché du Temps Perdu”, which reappears more than 3,000 pages later — signaling a transition of phases, as well an auditory trigger of memory — as a departure point, as an association to the percussive vibraphone pulses that thread the album’s two sides, the pair weave a striking interior world of immersive psychological depth. Feeling almost subaquatic at times, like captured glimpses of rumbling, shadowy ecosystems lost within murky ambiences, before washing ashore in a series of pointillistic, highly detailed alien landscapes of the mind, each artist’s markedly different sound-sources, and treatment of the subsequent material elements, dance in abstract grace, incorporating subtle nods to minimalism, free jazz, and musique concrète within its seamless total form of sparse texture and tone.

Easily one of the most striking and memorable releases by either artist to appear in recent years, Sergio Armaroli and David Toop’s “And I Entered Into Sleep” traverses uncharted realms at the borders of literary reference, sound art, ambience and abstraction through delicately musical sounds, revealing new depths at every turn. Issued as the tenth and final album in Die Schachtel’s Decay Music series, highlighting inspired contemporary experimental efforts of the ambient, ethereal, and emotively abstract.

Fetter’s Body of Noise erupts at the threshold between ravey hypnosis and avant-pop experiment, slithering through the hinterlands of unconscious desire. Nine shape-shifting tracks conjure haunted landscapes where beauty refuses clarity and dancefloor logic warps underfoot. Vocals swoon, drift, and demand—stacking into fragments that multiply and weave through saturated pulses and shimmering, snarling synths.

Opening track "Like a Rose" traces a dreamer’s transition into the unstable physics of a perplexing but familiar dream world, where they gradually become lucid. “Beast” follows up humming with shadowed urgency, threading a path through self-sabotage and metamorphosis. “Spathiphyllums” drifts a while in a lush lostness, aching for something new before fracturing into wild, cathartic collapse. Side B’s “Do I Exist? (D.I.E)” and “The Longing” spiral into existential wonder, searching for a human origin story—both personal and collective—against a backdrop of uncertainty, while “Headache” thrusts forward as an absurd and insistent manifesto to stay the course and harness one’s own power within the madness.

Body of Noise is crafted not only for sweating bodies in motion, but for distorting time and opening psychic portals, where surrender becomes strategy and uncertainty transforms into ecstatic navigation. Rooted in all-hardware improvised production and shaped by Fetter’s years of boundary-blurring visual and performance art, their debut LP feels alive and in flux. Reminiscent of a spectral pop chorus trapped in a loop of broken machinery, or a lost broadcast from a dancefloor in a parallel realm, Body of Noise is a journey into chaos, transformation, and a bold refusal to be contained.

About Fetter:
Fetter makes clubby self-destructing noise pop to dance and weep to. Oscillating between ethereal and pounding, their all-hardware, largely improvised live sets take listeners through a foggy wilderness of saturated rhythms and menacing synth lines, a golden voice guiding the way through. Fetter is the stage moniker of multimedia artist Jess Tucker. Their performances take place in clubs as well as galleries, often incorporating video, installation, and interactive performance art elements to create other-worldly surrounds of mesmerizingly unhinged bodies and faces.

Among the true Keiji Haino devotees, Nijiumu’s Era of Sad Wings (released on P.S.F. in 1993) has always held a special place in the pantheon. Operating for only a few years in the early 90s and apparently only performing a handful of shows, Nijiumu operated at the opposite end of the dynamic spectrum to Haino’s famed power trio Fushitsusha, dwelling in a hushed, meditative realm of mysterious droning sonorities and free-floating melodies that occasionally erupts into violence. Black Truffle is pleased to announce a new double-LP edition of a lesser-known 1994 Nijiumu recording, When I sing, I slip into the microphone. Into that void, I bring comrade “prayers”, then, turning to face the outside, together we explode. Here, Nijiumu is the trio of Haino, Tetuzi Akiyama and the obscure Takashi Matsuoka, the three performing on a wide variety of string, wind and percussion instruments, as well as electric guitar and bass, and Haino’s unmistakeable voice.

Like on the early solo Haino album that shares the group’s name (released on P.S.F. in 1993), the instrumentation swims in reverb (the use of which Akiyama recalls as ‘a kind of point of the band’), often obscuring the instrumental sources. On the short opening piece, a distant reed instrument arcs long buzzing melodies over a bed of cymbals and gongs, like a psychedelic take on Tibetan music. The epic second part, occupying almost 50 minutes, begins as a splayed, near-formless cloud of electric guitar and bass, shadowed by bowed and plucked strings, the three elements working through twisting atonal shapes. At various points in the recording, we hear what seems to be the sounds of musicians moving between instruments, their shuffling and bumps fitting seamlessly into this radically open music. Eventually, what sounds like electric guitar moves closer to the foreground, fixing on a repeated melodic cell around which hover mysterious clouds of long tones and a sporadic shaker. At the half-hour mark, the music begins to build to a violently emotive climax, Haino’s impassioned vocal cries punctuating a lumbering, bass-heavy murk, contrasted at points by what sounds like a tin whistle. Suddenly, the volume drops to a near-whisper, opening the way for the stunning final moments, which touch on the slow-motion balladry of Haino’s classic Affection, here given an eccentric twist by an occasional woodblock hit. The third piece opens with a hazy trio of rumbling bass, bowed strings and abstracted slide guitar, the latter calling to mind some of Akiyama’s later solo work. Eventually joined by Haino’s voice, its fragile, haunted tone might remind the listener of the man in black’s documented love of the madrigals of the murderous Count Gesualdo, before the recording abruptly breaks off mid-note. In this new edition, the Nijiumu trio recording is supplemented by a piece recorded solo by Haino in 1973, a bracing electronic blowout stretching almost half an hour. Using a homemade electronics setup to unleash a barrage of crunching distortion and shuddering harmonic fuzz, it takes its place in the canon of extreme live electronics next to Robert Ashley’s Wolfman and Walter Marchetti’s Osmanthus fragrans, looking forward to extreme noise years before Merzbow. Taken as a whole, these four sides of music are a stunning document of some of the lesser-known waystations of Haino’s singular creative path.

Although it had a very troubled birth, all detailed in the liner notes included with those different versions here, CRADLE OF FILTH almost-album-length 1996 EP V Empire, Or Dark Faerytales In Phallustein proved to be a superb triumph over adversity.

Despite all their legal problems, line-up changes and insane pressure after the gigantic success of their debut album, the Brits nevertheless managed to write and record a slab of new even grander songs, next to a new version of the already classic ‘The Forest Whispers My Name’, some would argue even bettering their debut in the process.

Another undeniable 90s symphonic black metal masterpiece, available again for the first time officially since 2017!

Although it had a very troubled birth, all detailed in the liner notes included with those different versions here, CRADLE OF FILTH almost-album-length 1996 EP V Empire, Or Dark Faerytales In Phallustein proved to be a superb triumph over adversity.

Despite all their legal problems, line-up changes and insane pressure after the gigantic success of their debut album, the Brits nevertheless managed to write and record a slab of new even grander songs, next to a new version of the already classic ‘The Forest Whispers My Name’, some would argue even bettering their debut in the process.

Another undeniable 90s symphonic black metal masterpiece, available again for the first time officially since 2017!

Although it had a very troubled birth, all detailed in the liner notes included with those different versions here, CRADLE OF FILTH almost-album-length 1996 EP V Empire, Or Dark Faerytales In Phallustein proved to be a superb triumph over adversity.

Despite all their legal problems, line-up changes and insane pressure after the gigantic success of their debut album, the Brits nevertheless managed to write and record a slab of new even grander songs, next to a new version of the already classic ‘The Forest Whispers My Name’, some would argue even bettering their debut in the process.

Another undeniable 90s symphonic black metal masterpiece, available again for the first time officially since 2017!

Living in the present is an album built around the work of American minimalist poet, Robert Lax (1915-2000) who is widely praised for his artistic concept of reduction, in which a pause becomes as important as the things said.

The album brings together the sound of Robert Lax reading his poetry, narrative field recordings by Nicolas Humbert and subtle yet imaginative timbres by Carina Khorkhordina (trumpet) and Miki Yui (electronics) who is also behind the final mixing of the album.

Living in the present is drawing from an archive of audio recordings originally made by film maker Nicolas Humbert while shooting a film on Robert Lax entitled Why Should I Buy A Bed When All That I Want Is Sleep?, ( Nicolas Humbert and Werner Penzel, Germany, 1999) The film was made on the Greek island of Patmos where Lax has lived withdrawn for 3 decades.

More than 25 years after the premiere of Why Should I Buy A Bed When All That I Want Is Sleep?, Humbert, Khorkhordina and Yui are revisiting the original audio material and patiently open worlds within worlds, pointing to new harmonic textures and isolating timbres, synchronizing different layers of time and traces of various locations into a new composition in its own right.

In some ways this album feels like an expansion of the work Humbert and Penzel did with Lax across six years, between 1993 and 1999, where they developed a unique intimacy in their textual-visual collaboration. On two long pieces, for each side of the album, “Where do i begin” and “One moment passes, another comes on” respectively – Yui’s electronics and Khorkhordina’s trumpet interweave beautifully with Humbert’s field recordings, in a manner that shadows the reflective reduction of Lax’s poetry. Indeed, it's no surprise that Lax’s poetry draws musicians into its orbit; it offers the curious a welcoming reduction in which only individual words and syllables represent the essence of language.

Lax’s poetry is notable for its qualities of near-stillness and its capacity to pause the reader’s thought, asking them to hold the sensuality of language for an extended, quietly revelatory moment. His readings on this album share a similar cadence, interested in settling with syllables, with single or several words, for an extended time.

Ultimately, Living in the present unfolds with unforced grace and poetics – one moment passes, then another comes on. (Jon Dale)

South London singer, songwriter and cultural powerhouse Joy Crookes has today unveiled the news that her worth-the-wait second album Juniper will be released on September 26th ahead of a full UK & EU headline tour.

A stunningly candid and fearless body of work, the album reaffirms Joy as one of the UK’s most vital and original voices. A once-in-a-generation talent, Crookes delivers a record that is both emotionally raw and sonically rich; humorous, heartbreaking and profoundly human.

Following the success of her 2021 debut Skin, which earned BRIT and Mercury Prize nominations, went Top 5 in the UK charts, and drew acclaim from The Guardian, NME and many more, Joy set out to make an album that pushed her further both musically and personally.

Juniper is the result: a project defined by its depth and dynamism.

Written with a stripped-back approach and produced by long-time collaborators including Blue May (Kano, Jorja Smith), Tev’n (Stormzy) and Harvey Grant (Arlo Parks),

Juniper features standout guest appearances from Vince Staples on the incendiary ‘Pass The Salt’ and Kano on the bittersweet confessional ‘Mathematics’.

Crookes describes the record as “more nuanced” than Skin: “With Juniper, every situation is visceral and I’m very much in it. It’s me in the centre of it all.”

The title itself nods to resilience (an evergreen that thrives in harsh conditions) and the album dives deep into themes of body politics, mental health, queer love, anxiety, industry hypocrisy and the ecstasy (and terror) of falling in love.
Lead singles like ‘Pass The Salt’ and ‘I Know You’d Kill’ showcase Crookes’ lyrical agility – blending poetic detail with razor-sharp wit. Meanwhile, the euro-pop inspired ‘First Last Dance’ channels euphoric melodies to mask deep emotional struggle, and the cinematic ‘Perfect Crime’ sees Joy fully self-actualise in the style of a Western showdown.

On ‘Paris’, the closing track, Joy reflects on a formative queer relationship: “Something I feared so much finally, actually felt like love.” It’s a sentiment echoed across Juniper – a record that captures the beauty and brutality of emotional openness.

The album arrives after a period of personal upheaval for Crookes, including a mental health crisis that shadowed the album’s creation. “I was in the trenches,” she says. “But the studio became my solace. What you hear is live and direct from that time.” Despite the darkness, Juniper radiates warmth, levity, and life, powered by Crookes’ ever-restless creativity and artistic excellence. Ahead of her performance this weekend at BBC Radio 1’s Big Weekend event in Liverpool, followed by a slot at Glastonbury, Joy is pleased to announce a full UK & EU headline tour for the backend of the year.

In celebration of Juniper's release, Joy will head out to all major cities including Dublin, Manchester, Bristol and London where she’ll play the much coveted 02 Academy Brixton for the first time. See below for full routing and ticket info.

Sticking a dirty thumb in the eye of fate, our third collaboration sees this marrow deep family malarky turn official as Pace Yourself teams up with YS’s own imprint ERF REC for a split release. As if our status as minor celebrities and footnotes of the underground could level off no further: the unification no one asked for is here. Sticking it to the man, handing your arse to ya on plate; cauterising infected suburban minds world over.

Burn is the second YS album and written as a direct follow-up album to Brutal Flowers. If their first album was an exercise in the incremental, a construction of poise and patience, Burn, should be taken way the fuck at it’s word: it quite literally finds catharsis in twisted reverse. Birthed out the malignant kick found in deconstruction and chaos. Evil twin, psychotic younger sibling, call it what the hell you like. It might take you a moment to get the lay of the land in this darkly mutated world. Like a bug eye’d native first confronted with a zippo, the hit is radical and instant: a new way for the world to go up in smoke.

Splice the Seattle slacker scene with the spliffhead soundsystem culture of the 90s Bristol trip-hop scene, then cross-breed that with the DIY optimism and glee in creation found in the cut-and-paste worlds of skate, graffiti and hiphop, now run that through the skitzo basement mind of John.T. Gast and you’re close to the kind of scorched earth and spiked suburbia that birthed Burn.

Dunno quite what YS have been ingesting of late but this massively twisted LP touches on a host of gloriously fucked totemic underground sources while not sounding much like any of them. It has the ballsy swagger and hard flipping of the script as Massive Attack’s seminal Blue Lines. Indeed, the eponymous album tracks sound similar - the opener ‘Burn’ is like a hard nosed jammed out redux of ‘Blue Lines’. Getting into a kind of slow-spinning overdubbed maximal euphoria ending with mumbled downer vocals, struggling to conceal their tongues in their cheeks there’s an air of paranoia and proto-conspiracy theory. It’ll leave you scratching your head, feeling like you’ve stepped into a New World Order governed by a cacophony of drop outs, dope fiends and apocalyptic stoners. A cracked out world somewhere between Richard Linklater’s movie Slacker (1990) and Marc Singer’s Dark Days (2001).

The rest of the album parts like a tongue on a wine glass: Smith and Mighty, Bandulu, ambient Luke Slater records, Wah Wah Wino, Nurse with Wound, Land of the Loops, Placid Angels, Adrian Sherwood, Urban Tribe and DJ Shadow can all be heard in momentary splatters - but Burn like other works by YS, is its own ritual beast. ‘Moth’, a track which has been knocking about the underground deejai circuit for many moons, is a real raw chopped and screwed slice of stoner erotica that reeks of obsession and unrequited desire. Elsewhere, on tracks like ‘Switch’, ‘Trying’ and ‘Drift’ the throughline from Brutal Flowers can be heard. Underneath the driving heavy gravity the trademark emotional intimacies of YS linger: eternal recurrence, ghosts of static and shortwave, worn memories of the playful and painful sort. The brief moments where flashes of orchestral ambience get out from underneath the swagger are so pure, personal and unguarded that for a moment they leave you completely lonesome. In the album’s closer ‘End’, you can hear the fleeting promise and DIY possibilities of an analogue world and embers of ash that flutter in its wake: where it seemed, for a brief moment, that collective of DJs, engineers, rappers, graffiti artists and skate crews were emerging from the streets, giving the middle fingers to the system, before just as quickly disappearing back to the doldrums of obscurity. ‘End’ is a bittersweet ode to early soundsystem culture, MCs and pirate radio - an out of step time where for a moment the underdogs and weirdos seemed to be kicking on the door of something bigger.

A veritable teenage doof suite dosed with desire, claustrophobia and deviance. Burn is a good old howl at the moon: lonely, raw, and out for blood; basement style exegesis at its best. A thump to the gut, a stud through your blood. A dubbed-to-death classic straight out of the annals of nowhere. A perfect post card from oblivion. A bleak, bold and personally ferocious vision of tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow.

This is everything that record collectors skip dates for. Fuck the scene and keep that shit underground. That’s what it is all about. Know what I mean, if you do? You’re in…

Second part of second album! Originating from Normandy, France, psychedelic noise-pop quartet You Said Strange presents a unique blend of indie rock that incorporates elements of psych pop-rock, shoegaze, and proto-grunge. Thousand Shadows volume 2, a second chapter was needed to highlight the many shadows that still linger everywhere. The shadows that linger on the borders, hiding the violence of the fights for them. The shadows that time has on the relationships and their persistence, because the shadows move. Plato's cave, modern version, would be the one of toxic relationships, antidepressants and the acceptance of the regression of freedom and/or the vision of a dying world... Between shoegaze, noise pop and psychedelic rock, You Said Strange absorbs its time to incant a music in which melancholy, love and the search for plenitude meet. The band recorded their first album, Salvation Prayer, in 2018 in Portland (USA), with Peter G. Holmstrom from The Dandy Warhols, which saw release via Fuzz Club Recirds. In 2022, the band shared their LP Thousand Shadows Vol. 1. Mythomaniac kings, the Mediterranean, the colors of mourning _ these are the detailed subjects, described against a backdrop of psychedelic pop, proto grunge, and shoegaze. The first part of a powerful, reverberant, melodious second album, drawing its inspiration and production stem from encounters during their 2022 European and North American tours, between Normandy, New York, and Oregon. Most recently, You Said Strange shared the second part of their sophomore release, a follow-up to Vol. 1 entitled Thousand Shadows Vol. 2.

Brbko, one of the UK underground’s most enigmatic artists, shares his debut album ‘BRAK VS. BRAK’ via acclaimed label Scenic Route. The release is accompanied by new focus track ‘JOGA 07’ a bold, introspective moment marking a turning point in the project’s emotional arc.

BRAK VS. BRAK is a genre-fluid meditation on life, death, and duality, using the afterlife as a metaphor for ego, rebirth, and reflection. Its title nods to an episode of Samurai Jack, where the hero confronts a darker version of himself, a fitting metaphor for Brbko’s own exploration of internal conflict. “It’s about realizing that your demons aren’t always from outside,” he says. “Sometimes they’re of your own making.”

Written across Manchester, Lewisham, Paris, and New York, the album moves through raw vulnerability and surreal visions. It opens with ‘BONSAM 2’ a raw intro tackling power, appropriation, and immortality, before ‘POWER OF 6’ reflects on clout and connection. The title track pits Brbko against his own shadow, while ‘BUZZ LIGHTYEAR’ distills ego and isolation into a dreamy freestyle. ‘DARK CLARITY’ offers bittersweet closure through minimalist production and vivid intimacy. The mood shifts with ‘JOGA 07’, where faith and lightness emerge as redemption.

Manchester-born and Lewisham-based, Brbko has quietly shaped UK underground music: from pirate radio and stage curation to collaborations with Alice Glass, Zed Bias, and Andrew Aged. GQ calls him “an essential part of underground music,” while Dazed praises him as “a stir in the contemporary grime scene.”

With ‘BRAK VS. BRAK’, Brbko delivers his most personal and expansive work to date.

It"s been six years since LA DISPUTE released their last album, Panorama. Since then, the Michigan post-hardcore band-made up of Jordan Dreyer on vocals, Brad Vander Lugt on drums, Chad Morgan-Sterenberg and Corey Stroffolino on guitar, and Adam Vass on bass-dealt with the stagnance of the pandemic, celebrated the ten-year anniversaries of Wildlife and Rooms Of The House, and began working on NO ONE WAS DRIVING THE CAR. The fifth studio LP is the first entirely produced by the group, and it came together in Grand Rapids and Detroit, the United Kingdom, Australia, and the Philippines: "I think the change in environment was really helpful to breathing new life into the process each time we came back to it," Dreyer says. Partly inspired by the 2017 psychological thriller First Reformed, NO ONE WAS DRIVING THE CAR reckons with malaise in the shadow of the looming apocalypse, which has noticeably been worsened by the advancement of tech. The title comes from a quote from a police officer Dreyer read in a news article about a lethal self-driving Tesla crash, an absurd event which raises questions about the amount of control we have in our own lives. In fourteen dynamic tracks, the band grapples with the existential topic and the human need to find comfort and a sense of security in an existence where we"re often thrust into chaos without permission.

12-song PINOT NOIR RED VINYL LP, limited to 500 Copies! Not many people realise that The Damned have produced a fine array of songs with melodic, harmonic and rhythmic sophistication; with a depth of imagination and atmosphere. They spearheaded British punk, and yet diverse musical influences went into the crucible: UK and US psychedelia, Canterbury prog rock, and even classical and filmic musical influences abound. Now, with the return of drummer Rat Scabies the line-up is the same as that which produced many of these songs - with Monty on keys. Monty Oxymoron has played keyboards with The Damned since 1996, has written songs for the band, and played with Captain Sensible and Dr Space Toad before that. He is a retired psychiatric nurse and trained in art psychotherapy. Monty is keen on "free improvisation" and plays in and around Brighton where he lives. Monty has an almost impossibly eclectic collation of his music on Bandcamp, his YouTube channel, and shares ideas on various subjects on his Substack page (under his "real" name: Laurence Burrow.)

LP comes with 24 page 8.5x11 full color booklet. In the blurred and memorial hallways of bygone time, to remember is to wander between the rooms of our own experiences, to appear and disappear, like a play of overlapping shadows. In music set drifting through the architecture of his own memories, Moses Brown weaves a story that oscillates between the past and the present, like a mason turning over stones to reconstruct his childhood home in this beautiful and disquieting soundtrack to growing up. On Stone Upon Stone, Moses' first solo LP attributed to his given name after several releases under the brilliant and despondent "Peace de Resistance" moniker, he moves sidelong into the realm of soundtracks with this score to the construction of his childhood home in a story spanning 1993-2023. Laid out in lush and provocative minimalist instrumentals, the album unfolds a story about the planning, partial construction, and dissolution of a home in constant state of becoming through the lens of its only child, coming of age under flux. Influenced by the approach of friends and collaborators Straw Man Army's OST to Charles Darwin's Voyage of the Beagle, Stone Upon Stone was originally intended as a soundtrack to a novel of the same name by Wieslaw Mysliwski, an epic set in Poland about a family's construction of a mausoleum. Struck by the story's parallels with his own family's project, he got the idea to complete the work as a personal narrative. Created from layers of different mellotron voices then separated, re-amplified, and recorded as if they were a sitting chamber orchestra, the music eerily blurs the line between human and synthetic, giving way to something akin to a memory with it's blurriness of fact and fiction. In the same spirit of association, this record is certainly influenced by other minimalists working within the confines of "soundtrack", like Philip Glass' North Star and the film work of Michael Nyman. But Brown's soundtrack works within its own peculiar depth of field, living in the listener's imagination, thriving in its own sense of loneliness, aspiration, and confusion that only childhood can evoke. Listeners will feel the entropy of aging in Stone Upon Stone, like a memoir in cascading tones, that sets it apart from so much else in DIY music, and rewards with repeated listens. For Fans of Philip Glass, Kali Malone, Julius Eastman, Mica Levi, Roedelius.

"Astral Americana hymns hovering somewhere between the dirt and the stars" Pitchfork

"Mood music for moments of solitude, best experienced without distraction" The Times

"Overwhelmingly effective and ravishingly beautiful" The Wire

American Dust is an ode to the beauty of the American Southwest, where vast desert landscapes hold stories both stark and tender. Eve Adams’ characteristic folk noir weaves a vivid tapestry of love, sacrifice and quiet revelation, conjuring images of dust storms, stray dogs and far off trains.

The high desert of California is a vast and confounding place. Equally inspiring as it is punishing, it’s a landscape that carries magic in its deep dark nights, holding stories both tender and stark in the coarse layer of dust that settles upon everything. It’s long been a source of inspiration for musicians, writers, and painters, each of them adding to the same current, carried forward over time, through hope and hardship and the passing years.

Somewhere out there in that broad and boundless landscape, Eve Adams has been living her own desert life, quietly writing the follow-up to 2021’s Metal Bird LP. Where that album sang of liminal space, the dream-like turbulence of Hollywood’s golden age, American Dust is far more rooted in traditional storytelling; a eulogy for the American Dream channeled through that sweeping part of the country that holds such power and mystery. Slipping into different and varied costumes throughout its ten songs, it finds Eve not just observing the people around her but stepping into their shoes and peeling back the layers of their quiet lives.

Adams writes from within. A few years ago she moved out there, to “the middle of nowhere”, finding a slowness that didn’t exist in the city, and she knows only too well about the mystical nature of the land and those who live within it. Weaving together themes of grit and romance, American Dust holds its focus on the bittersweet poetry of lives lived in solitude, most notably the women who sustain life at the center of it all. “There’s something very radical about domestic life,” Adams says of this thread. “So many women live their entire lives behind closed doors, completely in the shadows. Within those lives is such sacrifice, devotion, and love. I wanted to honor that: the poetry in the mundane, the longing in the repetition. The way love survives boredom and dust and time.”

Eve is joined on American Dust by Canadian musician Bryce Cloghesy, aka Military Genius of Crack Cloud, who plays throughout and also helped produce the album. Musically bold and vivid, it’s an ambitious and detailed stride forward from what’s come before, the scope of the LP’s narrative reflected in the radiant sweep of the playing. On top of gentle piano and guitar, gorgeous strings drift through the album, lending the songs a woozy sense of romanticism; a collaboration with Gamaliel Traynor (Cello) and Caroline’s Oliver Hamilton (Violin).

For all the drama that’s coiled around these songs, it’s the recurring notion of love and hope fighting against everything that holds true throughout American Dust. Musically it’s lush and vibrant, intimate and cinematic side by side, and always bursting with warmth. But it’s what it holds in its weary bones that elevates it to something truly special, something more than just a collection of songs penned in the heart of the desert. The characters it speaks of, and from, feel shadowed but wholly real, like they’re bursting to share their stories that have remained hidden for years and years and they allow Eve Adams to grow as a songwriter right in front of our eyes.

“The same swirling dust that clung to the covered wagons of my ancestors as they crossed the Great American Desert is the same dust my great-great-grandmother swept off her porch during the Dust Bowl of 1936 in Oklahoma, is the same dust that blows in through the cracks in my windows here in the desert, carrying stories from a time long gone,” Eve says, reflecting on the personal narrative that runs through her new album.

“It’s not just dust—it’s American Dust, the kind that settles into the bones of a family and never leaves. I think about that dust as a symbol of the passage of time. I hope this album will be part of that same current, carrying forward for the next generations of my family to find. I’ve been lucky enough to have journals and poetry from my ancestors that documents their lives during times of pure hope and pure hardship. I’d like to think of this album as a contribution to that family history.”

Swampmeat is the project of Dan Finnemore, former co-frontman of cult US rock & roll act Low Cut Connie (as recommended by the likes of Rolling Stone, KEXP, and - yes - Barack Obama), not to mention his role as behind the drums of PNKSLM's own The Castillians, as well as being a former member of the notorious Black Mekon. A long-time homeown secret in his native Birmingham, Swampmeat is now ready to step out of the shadows - over ten years after the project took its first steps. "Gin & Tonic" is a collection of country-fied rock and roll, straddling the edge between country, punk and rock and roll, with great songs and melodies.

Emerging from the shadows with a sound both haunting and hypnotic, the mysterious one-man French act Closed Mouth (Yannick Rault) unveils You Don’t Need a God—an unrepeatable EP that stands as the spiritual heir to the legacy of compatriots Trisomie 21, Little Nemo, and Babel 17. With icy synths, ghostlike vocals, and melancholic guitar lines veiled in mist, this record conjures the same cinematic introspection that defined the golden era of European coldwave and post-punk. Each track plays like a transmission from a forgotten dream—enigmatic, emotional, and unmistakably timeless. This is not mere revivalism; this is the continuation of a mood, a vision, and a sound that still resonates with profound intensity. Presented in ONE-OFF truly limited edition of 300 copies lacquered pressed on 180 gr. high quality solid BLACK vinyl. All tracks have been specially remastered and mastered for vinyl by Daniel Hallhuber at Young and Cold Studios (Germany).

Classic black 2LP in gatefold! "Her darkest, heaviest and most personal album yet . . . a haunting, doomy exercise in loud-quiet dynamics." Rolling Stone Sleep paralysis plagues singer/songwriter Chelsea Wolfe, and that strange intersection of the conscious and the unconscious has inadvertently manifested itself within her work. Across the span of her first four albums, there is an underlying tension, a distorted and nebulous territory where dark shadows hover along the edges of the sublime and the graceful. But until now, Wolfe's trials and tribulations with the boundaries between dreams and reality have only been a subconscious influence on her work. With her fifth album, Abyss, she deliberately confronts those boundaries and crafts a score to that realm she describes as the "hazy afterlife. an inverted thunderstorm. the dark backward. the abyss of time." Chelsea Wolfe's material has always felt intensely private, from the almost voyeuristic bedroom-production aesthetic of her debut album The Grime and the Glow to the stark themes and atmospheres of 2013's Pain Is Beauty. "Abyss is meant to have the feeling of when you're dreaming, and you briefly wake up, but then fall back asleep into the same dream, diving quickly into your own subconscious," says Wolfe. To conjure this in-between world, Wolfe continued her ongoing collaboration with multi-instrumentalist and co-writer Ben Chisholm and drummer Dylan Fujioka, with Ezra Buchla brought on board to play viola and Mike Sullivan (Russian Circles) enlisted to contribute guitar. The ensemble traveled to Dallas, TX to record with producer John Congleton (Swans, St. Vincent). In the back of her mind burned the words of designer Yohji Yamamoto: "Perfection is ugly. Somewhere in the things humans make, I want to see scars, failure, disorder, distortion." The resulting eleven songs reflect that philosophy as they smoulder with human frailty, intimacy, quiet passion, anxiety, and deep longing. "Sleep and dream issues have followed me my whole life," remarks Wolfe as she revisits notes from the writing and recording sessions. In a way, these issues have become a part of Chelsea Wolfe's identity, for whom the notion of sleep as an escape has been subverted. Abyss captures this dichotomy, this battle between the soothing and the upsetting, and demonstrates why Chelsea Wolfe has become one of the most intriguing songwriters of the decade.

Riding high on a prolific wave of output, Kloke returns to Mindgames with Lucidity — an album that confirms his position at the forefront of modern jungle.

Andy Donnelly has been actively releasing a broad swathe of electronic music since the late 00s, but it's his sharpened focus on jungle and drum & bass over the past 10 years that has cemented his reputation. As well as working closely with fellow scene leaders like Tim Reaper, the Australian artist has hit a flow state with his productions where the quality and quantity seems limitless. Since Mindgames started as a Samurai Music sub-label, Kloke has been a core part of the imprint's identity. Having already dropped the Mindgame 8 EP earlier this year, Donnelly is back with a full-length salvo of advanced jungle heavy on the technicalities and even heavier on the vibes.

Lucidity makes its mark from the very first blast of breakbeat science that opens up the title track. From that point on Donnelly works at full tilt, edging gritty textures into his sampling and capturing classic jungle's melancholic mystery through an expansive palette of re-pitched hooks. This is carefully crafted soundsystem music in thrall to the tradition of jungle, but at no point does it sound tired or throwback. One key element is the dynamic intensity of Donnelly's arrangements, shifting gears with devastating poise whether darting through the starry-eyed arps and deft breaks of 'Mobius Strip' or chopping around the jagged angles and noirish licks of 'Goose Cuts'.

Donnelly folds many moods into his jungle tapestries. 'Paradiso' conjures a smoky, haunting atmosphere while 'Nightfall' leads on techy darkside stabs before unfurling shadowy jazz licks that flicker like ghosts through the dense forest of drums. At all times, the commitment to mind-bending configurations of compound breaks drives the album forwards. No two beats roll the same as Donnelly indulges his precise and profound instinct for next-level edits and heavyweight production.

Gritty, raw and true to the roots of the culture, Kloke stands tall on Lucidity. It's the kind of detailed, deep and deadly album that shows jungle at its absolute best — a sound that still feels like the future in the right hands.

For most members of the band it's the best album. But, tragically, the release of Operation Heavenly in 1996 was overshadowed by the sudden death of drummer Mathew Fletcher. The promotional tour was cancelled, the surviving members of the band went into emotional hibernation and no-one could bring themselves to celebrate these vibrant, upbeat songs. So, this release by Skep Wax Records, nearly thirty years on, is more like an album launch than a re-issue. Time has healed most wounds, and the songs on Operation Heavenly feel like they can finally emerge onto the stage, with Mathew's spirit very much alive: his effervescent witty drumming sounding as fresh now as it did then. These tracks are gleeful, melodic, sophisticated and knowing. The tough riot grrrl edge that Heavenly had developed a year before with seminal singles P.U.N.K. Girl and Atta Girl, has been blended with a deliberate quantity of Britpop styling. Heavenly were clearly listening to what was going on, liked the energy, but didn't necessarily feel the need to join in. Some of the tracks (eg Ben Sherman) are as jaunty as early Blur, but the lyrics, mocking a narcissistic boyfriend for his obsession with hair, clothes and his own erections, show that Heavenly didn't need or want to be part of the la - or even ladette - herd. Operation Heavenly was the band's first release on a label other than Sarah Records. Matt Haynes and Clare Wadd had brought that exceptional label to a deliberate and dramatic end. The liaison with US punk label K Records continued - as did the duets with Calvin Johnson: Pet Monkey is a moving duet between a growling Calvin Johnson and a sweet-voiced Cathy Rogers, as they dramatize another complex, maybe doomed relationship, with another self-centred boy finding himself frustrated by a girl who won't take any shit. But in the UK, Heavenly needed to find a new home - and Wiija Records were welcoming hosts, ushering the band into a brasher, less cloistered world: the production on this album is brighter than before, the artwork is colourful and upbeat. With tracks as catchy and as complete as Fat Lenny, Trophy Girlfriend and Space Manatee there was an expectation that Heavenly might finally emerge from the indiepop shadows and trouble the charts. And who knows if this might have happened. Mathew was lost before the album was released, and the band had no choice but to bring things to an end. This reissue also contains two tracks that appeared on the B side of the 7" single of Space Manatee. They are both cover versions, and along with Serge Gainsbourg's Nous Ne Sommes Pas Des Anges on the main album, these vivacious assaults on Art School by The Jam and You Tore Me Down by The Flamin' Groovies show that the band, briefly in its prime, could happily embrace any variant of pop music and make it something Heavenly.

Roughly two years after the release of their initial statement of intent, debut single “Toutpartout PT2” with its hypnotic ripples, Andi Haberl and Florian Zimmer aka Bella Wakame have successfully channeled the magic of a 2024 live recording (captured at Berlin’s Donau115 & Silent Green) into their first proper studio offering. You can hear inspirations ranging from Bitchin Bajas, Jeremiah Chiu to Groupshow (Jelinek, Leichtmann, Pekler), the hypnotic, intricate battle between form and freedom (the fun of momentary formlessness) continues to unfold over the course of 10 new tracks, featuring album guest Indra Dunis (Peaking Lights). Their first single "Shadows of Nambei" was very much inspired by the wonderful band Spirit Fest and their song "Nambei".

You can either shorten the reins, or you can loosen them – and give things more slack. With Bella Wakame, it’s definitely the latter. Constantly challenging each other, they’re tapping a whole new energy. Tons of different energies.

Based on the impulsive, propulsive interplay between drums/sensory percussion (Andi Haberl) and modular synthesizer (Florian Zimmer), the frenzied, free-form results take listeners into completely new dimensions – sonic worlds that don’t really sound anything like their other musical outlets (The Notwist, SUN, Saroos, Driftmachine etc.).

Whereas most bands tend to notoriously overthink names/monikers, these guys obviously only care about the ecstatic push-and-pull that occurs once their instruments meet and overlap: it’s wildly explosive textures with a booming heart. Moving restlessly between motorik club, electro-acoustic jazz experiments, ambient excursions, and fast-paced instrumental anthems that seem to explode at the seams, one can immediately tell how much they enjoy the newfound freedom, the turbulent encounters born on the spur of the moment.

It’s all about a quick-paced exchange of friendly blows, a chasing of tails into ever-new musical terrains. Relying on just enough form for that wildness to blossom within, their just-in-time dashes continually unfold, refold, return, grow bigger – and leave you startled.