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Mr Bongo are delighted to present an officially licensed re-issue of this underground Japanese rock rarity 'Uganda (Dawn of Rock)' by Akira Ishikawa & Count Buffaloes. This album has become highly sought-after amongst psych, prog and acid rock collectors and due to the rare nature of original copies they come at a hefty price tag.

The respected Japanese jazz drummer Akira Ishikawa was not messing around when he recorded the 'Uganda (Dawn of Rock)' album with his band the Count Buffaloes. For this offering, originally released in 1972 on Toshiba Records, Akira Ishikawa takes us on a deep tripped-out journey. 'Uganda (Dawn of Rock)' is a fusion of progressive and psych rock with African percussion workouts, dergy-wah wah blues-funk, and jazzy sensibilities; with different genres morphing and uniting as they progress.

A long way from his funk and afrobeat album 'Back To Rhythm’, re-issued on Mr Bongo in 2019, this record has a darker, deeper, abstract and experimental stoned tone with the listener being pulled into its vortex for the ride. This record doesn’t pull any punches.

For this album, Akira is joined by Hideaki Chihara on bass, guitarist Kimio Mizutani, sounding at times like an early 70s Peter Green, percussionist Larry Sunaga and composer Takeru Muraoka.

The album has become highly sought-after amongst psych, prog and acid rock collectors and due to the rare nature of original copies they come at a hefty price tag.

We are delighted to present an officially licensed re-issue of this underground Japanese rock rarity.

Available in 2 formats: Original LP in Box version & Tip-on Sleeve with OBI version.


• Highly sought-after underground Japanese rock rarity, originally released in 1972.

• Feat. Hideaki Chihara, Kimio Mizutani, Larry Sunaga and Takeru Muraoka.

• Available as the original LP in Box version & Tip-on Sleeve with OBI version.

Detroit's deep techno master, Deepchord, makes a more than welcome return to Soma after 5 years. With a brand new album dropping, Rod Modell delves deep into his ethereal sonic world to bring you 'Functional Extraits 1'. The first single to be taken from the forthcoming album. Built in a way that only Deepchord can, he transports you to different realms with lush soundscapes and perfectly processed electro-acoustics giving you an insight to the mind of the unique artist.

Shale glides across a field of electo-static noise, guided gently by cisps, fleeting percussion and gently warping synths. Lateral begins awash with waves of sound and glistening dub stabs while rolling beats acts as the heart beat of the track with a building intensity adding a sense of urgency. The uplifting yet dystopian sounds of Mapping spiral into existence urging you down the rabbit hole as more classic techno percussion manoeuvres this track on it's journey. Modell seeking out his roots as yet more traditional dub techno prevails via the final track, Ricochet. Pumping kicks and sub set to a perfect pace and ambience is a perfect, contemporary nod to the time honoured Deepchord sound.

Embracing the good vibe of the afro, ethnic and tropical scenes, this new volume of the Jitter Edits series represents a crisp union of sound and energy. Following the imprint of the well known party in France, this is an essential dancers tip.

Celebrating a Decade of Dark Entries with a compilation titled ‘Tens Across The Board’. We revisit our roster and chose 10 songs from 10 bands from 10 different countries spanning the years 1981-1993. The songs flow in chronological order and have never appeared on vinyl, with 7 of the songs previously unreleased.

The compilation begins in 1981 with Parade Ground from Belgium, the duo of brothers Pierre and Jean-Marc Pauly with help from Patrick Codenys and Jean-Luc of Front 242. “The Light’s Gone” was one of their earliest experiments and employs a stark minimalism with modular synthesizers, guitar reverb and tape delay. Next we venture to Granada, Spain in 1982 to meet the trio of Diseño Corbusier. Influenced by Cabaret Voltaire and Dadaism, “La Esperanza está en Antenas” was the band’s take on melancholic pop fueled by a robotic DR-55 bass-line. Sailing the Mediterranean Sea to Athens to meet Greek electronic goddess Lena Platonos who shares a demo from 1983. “Μια Γάτα Σασ Περιμένει Στη Γωνία” translates to “A Cat Is Waiting On The Corner” and is possibly the witchiest sounds we’ve shared yet, ending with a blood curdling scream. Frozen in 1983 we cross Ionian Sea to Messina, Italy and visit Victrola, the duo of Antonino “Eze” Cuscinà and Carlo Smeriglio. They’ve unearthed a melodic instrumental version of “Luca” fueled by a Korg Polysix and TB-303. Traveling across the Adriatic to Slovenia circa 1984, where Borghesia are working on their album ‘Ljubav Je Hladnija Od Smrti’. “Magla” translates to “Fog” fitting for the thick, somber electronics of Aldo Ivancic providing a dense atmosphere for the baritone vocals of Dario Seraval.

On Side B we go down under to Sydney and excavate a hidden Tom Ellard song recorded in 1984 under the alias Lord Metal, an anagram of his name for copyright reasons. “Ga Duum Blitzfonika” is a slow-motion, unadulterated dance groove originally released on the cassette compilation "Independent World”. Skipping ahead to 1986 in Tours, France we salute X-Ray Pop the minimum new wave duo of Didier "Doc" Pilot and Zouka Dzaza. They contribute the hypnotically fragile “Corto Maltese” that originally appeared on the cassette compilation ‘Plop’. Crossing the German boarder we arrive in Dortmund at the apartment of Andreas Sippel of Second Decay who recorded the instrumental demo “Lübeckerstrasse” in 1988 with partner Christian Purwien. Utilizing an TR-808, SH-101 and Arp Odyssey this cold slice of futurism was named after the street Andreas lived on. Traveling westward to England, specifically Basildon, Essex to the teenage bedroom of From Nursery To Misery, the trio of identical twin sister vocalists Gina and Tina Fear and keyboard player Lee Stevens. “Contentment” is an introspective, ethereal pop song with child-like vocals that originally appeared on the Belgian tape compilation ‘Heartbeat Vol.4’ in 1989. Finally, we return home to San Francisco and close out the compilation with Cyrnai the moniker of multi-instrumentalist Carolyn Fok. “Digital Grit Box (Demo)” was an outtake from the ‘Transfiguration’ album sessions recorded in 1993, utilizing dark dance drum beats made with MIDI sequencer programs Studio Vision and Sample Cell.

All songs have been remastered by George Horn at Fantasy Studios. The vinyl is housed in a custom designed jacket by Eloise Leigh featuring our label’s colors black-white-red with connect-the-dots pattern linking the 10 songs via maps/timeline/location, all relating to the reissue process, plus source images from San Francisco, our hometown. For this landmark release we've also printed a 2-sided fold-out wall poster that includes every artist we've released in our first 10 years 2009-2019 in black, red and silver metallic ink, plus an 8x11 insert with lyrics, notes and photos.

Schacke’s Make Them Remember is a point of genesis. From the insectoid trippiness of “Life Is Absurd” to the anthemic martial churning of “Make Them Remember” and the ocean floor pensiveness of “A Future Not Materialized”, the record mapped out the road ahead for not just Schacke, but for Copenhagen techno as a whole – a cornerstone in fast techno.

Young Boy Dancing Group
Young Boy Dancing Group was initiated in 2014 as a mercurial dance collective with an ongoing alternating cast. The group deals critically with modes of dance production, digital culture, originality and institutionalisation. Past performances include the Lithuanian Pavilion at the Venice Biennale 2015 and Manifesta 11 in Zurich, among others. The artwork for Schacke’s “Make Them Remember” is made up of a photo documentation from a performance by the group in Copenhagen in 2016.

recorded and produced by christina nemec in vienna and horner wald 2016
mastered and cut at dubplates & mastering, berlin 2017

artwork by susi klocker

On her latest release, chra aka Christina Nemec is sketching out a psychogeographical map, that guides you to the border of the internal and external world - 'on a fateful morning' lets you enter a sphere where the imaginary and the subliminal cross. Evoking abstract images that transcend reality, chra installs an autarchic time-and-space-continuum of vague, nocturnal beauty. Pastose bass drones, airy ambient synths and processed audio-samples form a hypnotic stream that lets you enter an altered state of mind. By subtly intertwining musical and non musical sounds chra is weaving an intensely atmospheric, poetic tableau of emptied spaces left to our imagination. It's the pulse of arcane memories that is filling these sonic landscapes, operating deep within our subconscious.

'on a fateful morning' is haunting music to play in the dark - conspirative, uncanny, with a dystopian smack.

comes in deluxe gatefold edition with lyrics sheets and colored vinyl limited to 500 copies

Early 20th century. Barbarism on an industrial scale. After the final shots had rung out Europe was left a husk, a shell to be rebuilt. And she did rebuild. Slowly, but surely, normality returned. Different zones. Different ideologies. One Europe. Yet not everyone was happy. Within this struggling continent there were those who saw the hand of authoritarianism at the wheel, past criminals ruling and lands being led back to dictatorship. The solution: the sub machine gun.From Reason to Ritual is Rude 66´s most ambitious album to date. Amsterdam´s premier electronic musician maps the rise and fall of terrorism over two slabs of wax. Gruesome naivety, one that led to countless deaths, is given an electro beat on the first record, 'Reason.' Warbling wave vocals from Ruud's wife Shaunna tell a bitter tale of paranoia and looming violence. That violence is truly realised on the second record 'Ritual.' Beats rain like shards of broken glass, constricted acid and echo as the enemy closes in for the final hollow defeat. An album that takes you from manifesto to death march.

The groove never skipped a beat. 10 years after Global Warming and 2 years after Breaking to the Bus Stop, Romain Dalmasso aka Lord Funk, remains an insatiable crate-digger driven by one thing: the dancefloor. With his 3rd LP, More Orgasms, he drops a record that literally bleeds club culture and raw funk.

This is a deeply organic album. Moving away from clinical productions, the french producer gathered a tribe of top-tier musiciansto bring a living, breathing soul to every track. It’s an in-depth study of groove where cutting-edge electronics meet organic warmth and human vibration.



The tracklist is a map of his musical heart: from the R&B anthem First Crush co-written with his partner-in-crime Guillaume Atlan (The Supermen Lovers) and ignited by Shahdo, to the sharp 80s-Blondie energy of Merryn Jeann. True to his hedonistic roots, the vinyl sleeve doubles as an adult board game. More Orgasms isn't just a release; it’s a tangible piece of club culture—a heavy, singular pressing for the diggers and the lovers who want music that has soul and sweat in its DNA.

Devotional music most often gets distilled into earthy chants and ancient folklore, it doesn't always ascend to the sky like Julinko’s ‘Naebula’ an album that from the first organ note clearly trades in terrestrial dreams for ethereal visions. A feverish quality permeates the whole record, as if a ritualistic performance was being captured from start to finish, a collection of hallucinatory doom, synthetic neo-folk hymns and ghostly art-rock.

Julinko, stage name for Giulia Parin Zecchin, has long been one of the best kept secrets of the experimental community in North-East Italy, with three records that helped define her unique blend of heavy psychedelia, slowcore and dark ambient. On ‘Naebula’ what really stands out is how powerful and soaring her voice is, a weapon of undeniable force that can transform into a vessel of raw fervour or glide effortlessly as a delicate lament. Her unconventional approach shines through on tracks like ‘Jeanne De Rien’, where a marching pulse acts as a pillar for an extended mantra, almost verging into powwow territory. ‘Peace Of The Unsaid’ uses its arrhythmical structure to create space, a crepuscular night ode that reaches the heights of Sinead O’Connor’s most intimate force-fulness while retaining a sweet composure. Whether it’s glacial murderous shrieks or gospel-esque vitality, songs like ‘Cloudmachine’ or ‘Kiss The Lion’s Tongue’ seem to draw as much from a tradition of European minimalism, the use of drones and repetition, to the tradition of folksongs as hymns, where modal harmonies make way for an apparent stasis. Another key element in Julinko’s songwriting is the seamless blend of her minimalistic approach with these dense textures borrowed from a distant outsider metal heritage, Lynchean noir on steroids or wordless exorcisms with deep undercurrents.

Original 13 track album on Deluxe packaged Double LP Gatefold : printed inners, collector stickers .

Mit Lotus Bridge präsentieren The Monochrome Set ein weiteres Kapitel ihres unverwechselbaren Post-Punk-Kosmos - elegant, lakonisch und voller literarischer Tiefe. Seit über fünf Jahrzehnten kultivieren Bid und seine Mitstreiter einen Sound, der gleichermaßen klassisch wie idiosynkratisch wirkt: scharf gezeichnete Melodien, schwarzhumorige Texte und eine Songkunst, die sich cineastisch und zugleich unmittelbar anfühlt. Die Band, einst bei Rough Trade, Dindisc und Cherry Red zuhause, hat mit ihrem Stil Generationen von Musiker*innen inspiriert und bleibt dennoch ein eigenes Universum. Lotus Bridge öffnet nun ein neues, psychedelisch schimmerndes Kapitel. Das Album basiert auf einem wiederkehrenden Traum, den Bid in eine atmosphärische Reise voller Figuren, Orte und innerer Landschaften verwandelt. E-Piano, Akustikgitarre und weit gefächerte E-Gitarren verleihen dem Werk einen eleganten, beinahe orchestralen Charakter, während Ambient-Sounds die Stücke zu einem geschlossenen Ganzen verweben. Tiefgründig, erzählerisch und voller verborgenem Witz - ein Album, das wächst und fesselt.

Mit Lotus Bridge präsentieren The Monochrome Set ein weiteres Kapitel ihres unverwechselbaren Post-Punk-Kosmos - elegant, lakonisch und voller literarischer Tiefe. Seit über fünf Jahrzehnten kultivieren Bid und seine Mitstreiter einen Sound, der gleichermaßen klassisch wie idiosynkratisch wirkt: scharf gezeichnete Melodien, schwarzhumorige Texte und eine Songkunst, die sich cineastisch und zugleich unmittelbar anfühlt. Die Band, einst bei Rough Trade, Dindisc und Cherry Red zuhause, hat mit ihrem Stil Generationen von Musiker*innen inspiriert und bleibt dennoch ein eigenes Universum. Lotus Bridge öffnet nun ein neues, psychedelisch schimmerndes Kapitel. Das Album basiert auf einem wiederkehrenden Traum, den Bid in eine atmosphärische Reise voller Figuren, Orte und innerer Landschaften verwandelt. E-Piano, Akustikgitarre und weit gefächerte E-Gitarren verleihen dem Werk einen eleganten, beinahe orchestralen Charakter, während Ambient-Sounds die Stücke zu einem geschlossenen Ganzen verweben. Tiefgründig, erzählerisch und voller verborgenem Witz - ein Album, das wächst und fesselt.

Limited Green LP is for Indies only. all LPs include a DL card. Island Family is the fifth album from Isle-of-Eigg dwelling electro-acoustic psych-pop wonder Pictish Trail, AKA Johnny Lynch. A strange, unpredictable, sardonic and yet deeply personal record inspired by all from Fever Ray to The Flaming Lips, Liars, Mercury Rev and Beck, Island Family is Pictish Trail's contrarian view of arcadia; a search for the euphoric in the bucolic, bound up in sometimes conflicting ideas and feelings around nature and environment, sincerity and artifice, escapism and belonging. It's an album about how no man can remain an island, however hard he might try. Released by Fire Records, with support from Johnny's own label Lost Map, and produced by long-term collaborator Rob Jones (The Voluntary Butler Scheme, The Gene Dudley Group), 'Island Family' opens with its title track, a song of death, ghosts and the ties that bind, fusing abrasive electronic beats with a tongue-in-cheek fireside folk refrain and the haunted ice cream van melody of a digitally reincarnated traditional Scottish jig. A purgative surrender to nature's whim driven by a clattering machine drumbeat rolled in a puddle of filthy dirty fuzz, 'Natural Successor' is five-and-a-half-minutes of cathartic churning bass. 'In The Land of The Dead' is an eight-bit glitch-core reflection on island party excesses spasming into existential dread and regret, suitably accompanied by a funereal mariachi band. It's followed by the epic 'It Came Back', the understated verses and arms-aloft falsetto chorus of which are accompanied by a tense, foreboding bass-driven electro hip hop instrumental with (spoiler) a brain-shattering industrial-metal meltdown. 'Melody Something' is the album's purest moment, a cautiously uplifting solar-powered-ballad about losing track of time in the cycle of the seasons, and the gap between memory and reality. Shapeshifting closer 'Remote Control' is a channel hopping cabin-fever-dream flipping from warped boyband ballad to deep-fried fuzz pop. "One of my favourite artists" Lauren Laverne, BBC 6 Music

WRWTFWW Records is delighted to announce the first-ever vinyl release of Art Form I, the overlooked 1997 compilation from Tokyo’s cult imprint FORM@ RECORDS, now available as a limited edition double LP housed in a heavyweight sleeve as part of the ongoing collaborative series between the Swiss and Japanese labels.
Originally issued only on CD, Art Form I is a fascinating deep dive into the rich and singular world of late ’90s Tokyo electronic music—an inspired collection of timeless IDM, techno, ambient, and electronica experiments. Showcasing a roster of visionary underground artists including fan-favorite Virgo (Landform Code, Remnants), the compilation maps the innovative spirit of the era: emotional machine music, intricate rhythmic architecture, mind-expanding textures, and the soulful heart that serves as the solid foundation of everything FORM@ RECORDS.
Art Form I reminds of the pioneering explorations from Warp’s Artificial Intelligence series, B12, The Black Dog, Ken Ishii, and early Carl Craig, all while maintaining its own distinctive local identity. This long-awaited vinyl edition offers listeners a fully immersive rediscovery of a pivotal moment in underground music.
Following the acclaimed reissues of Virgo’s Landform Code (1998) and Remnants (1999), the simultaneous releases of Art Form I and Art Form 2 (1998) continue the archival collaboration between WRWTFWW Records and FORM@ RECORDS, with a forthcoming vinyl edition of remix collection Re-Form Ver-1.0 (1999) to follow.

Mai Mai Mai’s artistic path has never rested on laurels, it’s been a constant evolution, a profound and poetic research, a dark and dusty journey through awareness and collaborations where the heart of the process has always been about building connections and understanding people and their rituals. Mai Mai Mai’s new album ‘Karakoz’ was mostly recorded in Palestine (Ramallah and Bethlehem) in 2024 during an ongoing genocide and follows his acclaimed Southern Gothic double-album ‘Rimorso’. The album opens a new chapter for the Roma based artist, a deeply personal record where his traditional industrial miasma flows into a weeping vortex of spiritual hymns, Mediterranean hauntology and Middle Eastern chants of sorrow, carrying the despair of a battered population and matching the fighting hope with echoes of ambient bliss. Recorded during his artistic residency in collaboration with Radio Alhara and Wonder Cabinet, the album is the result of an immersive six-week residency between January and May 2024, in Bethlehem and Ramallah, where Mai Mai Mai delved deep into the traditional music of Palestine, meeting and collaborating with local musicians, exploring archives, and recording the resonances of the land. This deep engagement allowed him to unearth the intricate layers of Palestinian sonic heritage, weaving them into his own sonic language.

Michel Houellebecq is, of course, well-known for his novels, translated into more than 40 languages, and his Goncourt Prize (The Map and the Territory, 2010), but perhaps less so for his debut album, released exactly a quarter of a century ago on Tricatel label. One can sense the influence of Serge Gainsbourg's L'Homme à la Tête de Chou, a disillusioned Procol Harum and a world-weary Burt Bacharach hovering over Houellebecq's poems in Présence Humaine, a now cult classic album orchestrated by Bertrand Burgalat and the musicians of Eiffel. Twelve thousand copies sold and a few concerts later, the writer decided (or so we thought) to bid farewell to the stage, only to generate more media attention though his literary success. Frédéric Lo is, of course, known as an exceptional lyricist, composer, arranger, and producer, author of a sublime fourth solo album (L'Outrebleu, released last March) and a master of collaborative work, notably with Bill Pritchard, Peter Doherty and Daniel Darc. Initially, Michel Houellebecq and Frédéric Lo met for the tribute album that the latter was planning for the tenth anniversary of Daniel Darc's death, but their recording of "Psalm XXIII" was, to their great disappointment, rejected by the label and therefore did not appear on the final version of Cœur Sacré (2023). Fortunately, every cloud has a silver lining, and the two men decided to take their collaboration a step further. Lo decided to set the writer's words to music, in his studio in Pantin. Raw, stripped-down music draped in electronica, adorned with piano and antediluvian drum machines, often minimalist, sometimes repetitive, provides the perfect backdrop for twelve tracks that question and reflect on humanity's past and future (if indeed there is one). Reflections on the human condition, 21st-century style, a work of speculative fiction conceived by two eternally modern "young lads," Souvenez-Vous de l'Homme (Remember Man) is an album that might occasionally evoke The Stranglers' La Folie, and, given the title, that's probably no coincidence. But above all, it's a hypnotic and melancholic album, uncompromising and captivating. Most importantly, it's an album like no other.

Steeped in nocturnal, death rock adventurism, riven with a post-punk anxiety that feels increasingly like the twitching heart of our modern age, and driven by hardcore punk intensity, the second studio album from Boston’s FINAL GASP, titled New Day Symptoms, does what all great rock records do - not only does it place itself within a lineage, summoning up and amplifying a spectrum of powers from Rock n' Roll lore, it makes them resonate in the here and now. It gives voice to those fears and frustrations lurking just under the surface of waking consciousness and turns them into a rallying cry. Throughout New Day Symptoms, FINAL GASP create a potent reaction from the furious and the forlorn, frontman Jake Murphy’s vocalizes both a supercharged howl into the void and a remorseful echo back. But where the band’s 2023 debut, Mourning Moon, was a concentrated shot of acrid, underground death rock, its propulsion tanks largely filled with references to Samhain and Killing Joke, New Day Symptoms keeps all the core urgent energy while vastly broadening its scope. Through the anthemic, acid-corroded vistas of "Look Away" and gothic tub-thumping beat of "Gifted Shame" to "No Hand To Lead" channelling "Don’t Fear The Reaper" and its loping groove, New Day Symptoms takes the familiar into uncharted territory and makes the unfamiliar instantly, internally recognisable. With new space to explore, this is an album that feels a mapping of personal trials and dark recesses. Short: Boston's FINAL GASP return with New Day Symptoms - the new album steeped in nocturnal, death rock adventurism, riven with a post-punk anxiety that feels increasingly like the twitching heart of our modern age, and driven by hardcore punk intensity! FFO: Danzig, Killing Joke, TSOL, Lathe of Heaven, Poison Ruin, Gouge Away, Tribulation

C.L.A.W.S. comes to Dark Entries with a new ripping LP, Splat City II. C.L.A.W.S. is the solo project of musical luminary Brian Hock, who has been a key figure in the Bay Area underground for over two decades via his involvement in projects like Bronze and The Vanishing, as well as helming the record labels Squirrels on Film and Immortal Sin. With C.L.A.W.S., Hock takes on the dancefloor, picking up cues from the Hague’s Giallo-dipped electro, the skewed minimalism of Chicago acid, and the mind-rending forays of San Francisco post-punk icons like Chrome and Tuxedomoon. Following 2019’s inaugural Splat City EP, Splat City II continues to map the psychogeography of a metropolis both alien and immediately recognizable, one where life is cheap, but so are the thrills. Previously released on Squirrels on Film in digital-only format, this expanded vinyl edition of Splat City II features two new cuts. Things kick off with “Route 505” and “One Tear,” a duo of rompers that vibe like Tom Ellard and Chip E locked in a room with a vial of liquid. Next up, Bay Area deckmaster Tyrel lends his editing chops to “Vigilant Slimy Monsters,” sculpting a moody space disco beast. Squirrels on Film co-founder Solar teams up with Hock for “Black Magic Carpet Ride III,” a cavernous downtempo banger. The slow-mo pace continues with “Wild Slugs United,” which features the no wave-esque clarinet work of Paul Costuros. Closer “Don’t Flip the Crystal Ship” pays homage to Bayview venue Bay Area 51 with melancholic strings and a quartz-solid electrofunk bassline. Splat City II comes in a sleeve with artwork by Bert Bergen, which features a vampiric cat and sci-fi cityscapes.

Malena Zavala is an Argentinian-born, London-based artist, producer, and filmmaker, known for crafting ethereal, genre-blending music that navigates the space between her Latin heritage and her British upbringing. With the forthcoming album If This Life Could Start Again set for release on 30 January 2026 on Paraná Records, Zavala presents her most intimate, cohesive, and accomplished work to date, marking a significant evolution in her artistic journey.
With her new album, Malena creates an atmospheric dream pop world, weaving singer-songwriter intimacy with synth pop, Argentine folk, indiepop, rock and experimental music, threaded together by her blissful vocals and dreamy guitar work. Gorgeously warm and vivid, If This Life Could Start Again charts the journey from pain to acceptance, mapping out the non-linear nature of healing through a sonic landscape. Each song embodies a distinct emotion within that journey, from grief and chaos to feeling lost, seeking refuge, finding confidence, and finally acceptance and letting go. Drawing on her Argentinian roots, Malena uses the Andes mountains as both a visual and thematic anchor – the difficult climb towards higher ground becomes a metaphor for healing, whilst being lost at rock bottom reflects the darkest moments of the journey. 
Completely composed and performed by Malena herself, the album was recorded in Girona’s L’Empordà countryside in Spain with producer Luke Smith. As a professional producer and audio engineer, this was Malena’s first time relinquishing production control – an intimate creative shift that allowed their shared vision to shape the album’s rich, enveloping sound. 
However, Zavala’s career to date has been a testament to self-sufficient artistry. Her critically acclaimed debut, Aliso (2018), was written, recorded, and produced alone in her parents’ garage, which honed her dreamy bedroom pop sound. The album, praised by The Guardian for its “gently warped and beguilingly melancholy guitar pop,” ****, immediately catapulted her from DIY beginnings to prestigious stages, supporting acts like Lord Huron at London’s Roundhouse and Men I Trust at Village Underground and subsequently continuing on their UK/EU tours. Later with standout performances at Latitude, Green Man, and All Points East. Her consistent radio support from key influencers including BBC Radio 6 Music, BBC Radio 1's Huw Stephens, and Steve Lamacq has solidified her presence on the airwaves.
Her second album, La Yarará (2020), saw Zavala delve deeper into her roots, exploring Latin traditions like Cumbia and Bolero. This exploration of identity continues powerfully on the new album, but with a newfound lyrical depth and sonic confidence. The new album, If This Life Could Start Again, is a raw and transformative eight-track journey that maps the emotional landscape of healing. Written after a period of personal upheaval, the album traverses themes of grief, hereditary trauma, and self-discovery. The record’s narrative is structured like a mountain ascent. A challenging climb through varied emotional terrain, posing the central question: “Will you join the journey?” Sonically, this journey mirrors the non-linear path to acceptance, evolving from acoustic folk and synth-pop to funk-infused rhythms and rock anthems.
As a formidable live performer, Zavala has built a robust touring profile across the UK and Europe. She will embark on an extensive tour in February and March 2026 to support the album, with dates spanning major cities from London and Glasgow to Berlin, Paris, and Barcelona.
With If This Life Could Start Again, Malena Zavala fully realizes her artistic vision as a self-taught producer to an autonomous artist commanding her career through Paraná Records whilst reflecting the vast landscapes of her heritage and affirming her place as a compelling and evolving voice in contemporary music.

At the start of this summer, following a three-year hiatus for Daphni (punctuated only by his first ever collaborative Daphni track ‘Unidos’ alongside Sofia Kourtesis), he dropped ‘Sad Piano House’. The track represented something of a continuation in the Daphni catalogue, its roots growing from Cherry’s ‘Cloudy’ and its subsequent Kelbin remix, something in that song’s makeup having a profound effect when played on dancefloors by Snaith and countless others. ‘Sad Piano House’ deployed more intangibly irresistible bendy piano to equally satisfying effect and continues to achieve similarly rhapsodic dancefloor saturation.
Though a sizeable gap for Daphni releases, between Cherry and Butterfly however of course sits Honey, the latest Caribou album and one that saw the more instantaneous and dancefloor leaning traits of Daphni peaking through the cracks more than ever before. This blurring of the lines leads to an intriguing collaboration in Butterfly’s lead single ‘Waiting So Long (feat. Caribou)’. An unlikely duo - in that both artists are the same man, Dan Snaith - ‘Waiting So Long’ is not so much an identity crisis, ego trip, or the result of a chemical spill in the Snaith laboratory. It’s simply a track that Snaith felt for the first time belongs to both aliases, and might appeal to fans of both. He has never sung on a Daphni track before, and did not set out with the intention to do so this time, and yet this strange billing was born.

Daphni music has always been Snaith’s way of hitting directly to the core of the dancefloors he spends so much of his time playing to, and those dancefloors have been steadily expanding as his name grows, with the music following suit. This album however also draws from further back with a definite kinship to the very first Daphni album, the invigorating bag of ideas that was Jiaolong.
Butterfly is a showcase of the wonderful variety and surprising twists and turns that made that album such an exciting new prospect and that still to this day make Snaith such an intriguing DJ. There are more heavy hitters here, tracks that fill those dancefloors better than anyone, like ‘Clap Your Hands’ which picks up the energy of ‘Sad Piano House’ and flips it, exposing the gritty and intoxicating underbelly of Snaith’s hitmaking side, while retaining the playful urgency that runs through all of his work of late. Meanwhile ‘Hang’’s comic-strip horns are unpinned by gleeful force, unrelenting and thrillingly unshakeable. Elsewhere though comes a clutch of other tunes that might creep out somewhere more off the beaten path, a path Snaith has never stopped seeking in amongst his larger billings. ‘Lucky’ is squirmy and elusively intoxicating, ‘Invention’ skitters down meandering, inviting corridors, ‘Talk To Me’ grumbles and broods in the murk, and ‘Miles Smiles’ could roll on endlessly, so confident in its groove. There are no obvious peaks in these tracks or unifying moments, in fact many of them really have no business being on the dancefloor at all, and yet in the right setting, they could be the most fun to be had all night.

One such club is a good microcosm for the ethos of Butterfly as a whole. “Around the time I was finishing up this album I played a long set in a club called Open Ground in Wuppertal, Germany.” Snaith recalls, “It’s kind of, in one sense, the platonic ideal of the kind of club I’d want to play in. Every single decision has been taken, at great expense, with the aim of making the perfect sounding medium sized club room. But on top of it being the perfect acoustic environment it also is run by an amazing collection of people in a way that gives it a sense of community that dance music at its best provides. It is an absolute pleasure to play in that room to a crowd of people who come from all over. Playing in there you feel like you can play anything, and I played works in progress of pretty much every track on this album in my set there. Don’t get me wrong, I love playing a short set at a festival or in a more raw warehouse kind of club where you bang it out and only really functional music works but on record I guess the point of these Daphni records is to keep in mind a more expansive idea of dance music where the parameters are broad and the church is broad. I think that actually, putting really functional stuff next to weirder tracks (both on an album and in a dj set) might be the thing that’s still most interesting to me.”
This is the feeling that’s most palpable on Butterfly, and in every single time you see Snaith DJ. Right from the inception of the Daphni alias - and even before that – the thrill of trying stuff out, pushing at the boundaries has always been there and on Butterfly is present in all its twists and turns. It leaps all over the place and yet it hangs together, never feeling like a grab bag of dancefloor utilities but rather a distillation of all the strings to Snaith’s bow, exhilaratingly human and unified by one singular concept – simple and joyful exploration.

Accepting the darkness can be a liberating experience. Realising, and struggling with just who we are and what world we live in requires it. By further complicating the fractured sense of beauty found on his droning 2022 release, ‘I dreamt we found a way’, Bristol-based composer, Rob Winstone creates a language that encapsulates the lifelong reach for our own personal heavens, along with the darkness and fear on which those foundations are built.

Winstone’s instrumental palette continues to reach out far from behind his keyboards, however the sound of ‘sifting through heaven’ is stripped back and pared down, putting melody front and centre. 'postcards and loose tea', a love song written for Winstone’s partner during a period coming to terms with health difficulties had previously self-released with heavy spectral and granular manipulation from the artist. Here Winstone re-presents the original: “the stripped back recording I made in my old damp and cold studio that was in a building that has since been demolished”. It reflects the composer’s own journey, doing away with veils and histrionics, and embracing emotional bliss wherever it can be found, warts and all. Even the rumbling dark ambience of ’hospital corridor’ - where distant chimings, groans, and droplets synthesized from field recordings made nervously in a hospital waiting for test results coalesce - harbours a sacred-seeming beauty and aseptic warmth within its very bleak sense of dread.

There’s no better way to describe Winstone’s method than ‘sifting through heaven’. The hymnal organ chords, sketched out acoustic guitar phrases, scattering drum thuds, and meditative field recordings may flit between tenebrous to incandescent, but his focus is always on the embrace of love; “a view of life that embraces positive growth, yet doesn't deny immense suffering,” as he puts it. The album is bookended by two of Winstone’s most outright peaceful moments, summarising his core message: 'in spite of it all...' '...love finds a way'.

A year and a half has passed since Slovak-Hungarian artist Adela Mede self-released her debut album ‘Szabadság’. Its liner notes described it as “a navigation”, a search through “the personal, familial, cultural, folkloric and geographic of her past and present.” Her second album, ‘Ne Lépj a Virágra’ no longer searches; here, she puts down roots and delves deeper into the earthy reality of her home, Central Europe. Mede sings in three languages with newfound conviction and grace – this is an album of profound faith and confidence in the potential of this fertile soil.

Composed and recorded during the last 18 months in Bratislava, Slovakia – a city where three countries meet, where the East and the West collide – 'Ne Lépj a Virárga' translates to “don't step on the flower”. Its themes – budding potential, recognizing the beauty in the ordinary, solidarity, turning despair into hope – emerged through Mede's wholehearted involvement with her community, teaching singing to both children and adults, and various grassroots volunteering initiatives. It features collaborations with local artists, Mede's singing students, as well as fellow Eastern European contemporary artists Martyna Basta and Wojciech Rusin.

Adela Mede embellishes carefully crafted songs with minimalist and folklore influences, but also embraces more experimental approaches. The result is a collection of quite varied yet consistent pieces which highlight Mede's proficiency as a singer, arranger, producer and improviser. It is a grounded, confident next step for the Bratislava-based artist. Whether her vocals are naked, heavily processed, warped and reversed, or looped and layered; whether the production is sparse and minimalist or overwhelming and swampy; none of that changes the fact that the gentle tentativeness of her debut is gone. This is “Central European music”, at its most striking and meaningful: patient, determined, embracing both complexity and possibility.

Explicit isolation is the third album by the international collective E/I, led by composer and percussionist Szymon Pimpon Gąsiorek. The group’s seven core members came together while studying at Copenhagen’s Rhythmic Music Conservatory and the Royal Danish Academy of Music. For this latest release, they are joined by Slovenian musicians Samo Kutin (hurdy-gurdy) and Kaja Draksler (organ), alongside Danish tuba player Rasmus Svale.

The three compositions distill sound down to its essential elements, drifting freely through space. The material is minimal, moving in the geological rhythm of endless cycles of tension and release, formation and dissolution, density and lightness. Pimpon acts here more as a guide than a creator with a master plan. He is a navigator, leading us to the most crucial moments where sonic emissions merge into vibrating drones, building to an inevitable leap—an explosion after which the particles rearrange themselves once again. It feels like futuristic temple music infused with intergalactic spiritual jazz, the extensions of drone music, and acoustic ambient textures, all highlighted by the jolly grin of the navigator.

“I wrote the scores and asked each of the musicians to record their parts individually. What’s interesting for me about doing it this way is that it removes the element of immediate interaction and introduces a factor of randomness. I then edited and mixed it myself, also adding my own parts. Previously, it was strictly acoustic music, and the recordings were ‘live,’ meaning they were captured in one room at the same time, with no subsequent edits.” Pimpon has also incorporated electronics, which make the album even more airy and organically complement the sounds of the hurdy-gurdy and organ, recorded in Trboje, the small Slovenian village.

Allowing yourself to find meaning or beauty in the mundane is an act of generosity, Whether it’s seeing a smiling face in an electrical outlet socket, or discerning cosmic design amidst the forest floor detritus, it comes from a place of kindness to yourself and senses – and openness to hidden spirit of the world. These tracks came together during a period of intense personal change for adaa, rooted in a fruitful reflection on the connections between spirit and body, “feeling my flesh so I can feel and understand my spirit,” as adaa puts it. The sense of a crossover and clash of multiple connected realities – on-screens, on-line, on-earth, off-world, after-life – unites adaa’s multifaceted productions.

Ostensibly an assemblage of found sounds. scribbled thoughts and poems from diaries, and musial snippets, the album's scattered production reflects adaa’s own many mirror worlds. Field recording sit behind most tracks, alongside VST synths, guitars, and a variety of voices, from adaa’s own mangled vox to EVP samples taken from YouTube (recorded sounds believed to be spirits or paranormal activity), all processed to varying degrees.

While the music was mostly produced either in adaa’s studio in Providence, Rhode Island, or in bed, the field recordings bring the outside world in. The result of walks in the woods, hum of roads and highways, hiss of beaches, warmth of walks with friends and past lovers “around the East Coast”. It sits behind tracks like ‘sight’ where a lilting piano lin bobs atop a pond of rustling and distant whistles. Is that birdsong? Or ghosts? Saccharine hyperpop arpeggiation crossfades sharply into noise guitar squall. Angelic demon voices yawn into a hefty crescendo. Pure drones duet with gales of undefinable field sounds.

“Sometimes I feel like a seed in frosted soil,” says adaa. “If i choose to be optimistic.”

A house is something that is so deeply temporary, yet it can hold so much energy. How do we carry or leave behind those energies while transitioning into new spaces? How does each space we occupy for some time shape us and how do we tear ourselves away from it and its influence once it’s time to go? These are some of the core questions behind CC Sorensen’s new album for mappa, ‘Phantom Rooms’ – it’s a record about movement, change, transformation, family, juxtapositions… but most of all, home.

CC Sorensen was reflecting a lot on their childhood home in rural Kansas, USA while working on this music. The album could be characterised by a familial, chamber feel and both of CC Sorensen’s brothers, Ryan and Nyal Ruehlen, make an appearance on ‘Phantom Rooms’, among other instrumentalists. Using a wide palette of sounds – CC Sorensen alone in charge of keyboards, software instruments, voice, electronics, percussion, trumpet, guitar and field recordings, in addition to guests on pedal steel, voice, chimes, saxophone and drumset – the American musician crafts music as mysterious as it is inviting. The idea behind it would be almost surrealist – ghostly rooms in houses where we live – if we all didn’t know exactly what CC Sorensen means. Home isn’t something concrete, but it’s also not just an abstract concept. It’s a space beyond space; home in itself is a phantom room we enter. And what enables us to enter is the object of exploration here.

CC Sorensen’s approach is playful – tracks like “Beat Bot” and “Plastic Portals” are almost fun – but also contemplative. They make thoughtful, meandering chamber music intertwined with field recordings and electronics. Reeds, strings and percussion often set the atmosphere – sometimes airy, gentle, at other points more insistent – as the music grapples with departure, instability, deep reflection and imagined future spaces. Especially in the closing “Bexar” there’s a tangible yearning for a stable home, a longing to rekindle and keep ablaze this beautiful familial connection to a physical place. It’s both music that invites to reflect and music that in itself reflects; desires, hopes and dreams.

To decay is also to transform. Rusting metal is the visible traces of passing time, as the oxidation process accumulates dampness in our atmosphere and imprints it as unpredictable patterns onto hard iron and steel. Working in construction for a year now, Kensho Nakamura sees rust all the time, clambering up ageing chunks of material. Normally discarded as waste, Nakamura began discerning beauty in the phenomenon, organically spiralling around and consuming some of the very hardest of manufacturing stuffs into unique new forms.

‘Electric Rust’ continues the conceptual electronic composition mode of Nakamura’s previous works with a series of fractured musical dioramas. These scurrying notes, sparse hums, and quivering bleeps explore the topics of rust and the accumulation of time. The music ticks like a clock, drips like a tap, and manifests unknowable inorganic shapes. Recognisable musical snippets of bells, pianos, or murmured voices are buried inside counterintuitive synthetic rhythms and tension.

On ‘wet air’ piano notes tinkle and pipes gargle, digital detritus tap dances and arpeggios stumble. On ‘unique faces’, idle marimbas and malfunctioning animalistic squeaks flounder. This is music from the promethean space between being forgotten and being conceived. ‘Electric Rust’ is a topography of a world of rust, where corroding structures evolve into new — and beautiful — patterns of life.

Inspired by witnessing the broken tension and renewed possibilities of a laptop breaking down at a gig – not to mention the void left behind by the sudden end of a relationship – Pentu’s latest release is a jump-cut menagerie of musical moments. Sewn together into ‘And I Saw My Devil And I Saw My Deep Blue Sea’, these fifteen tracks continue the London-based producer’s active departure from the soundscapes and song structures that dominated their previous writing style. These disparate pieces slice themselves off into sudden silence, or veer into unpredictable sidebars, hopping from hyperactive instrumentals to beautifully deconstructed YouTube samples. Described by Pentu as “emotionally intuitive to write”, this is music by and for the endlessly scrolling modern mind – “navigating the world alongside the splintered, interruptive emotional hyper realities of social media.”

The sudden silences, drones, and interruptions are perhaps less surprising than the guitar-based textures of metal & shoegaze woven into several vital passages by Pentu. The result is a collage that encapsulates the erratic feeling, not only of a relationship’s end, but simply of navigating online mediascapes.”I found myself realising that my phone, the constant interrupter of nothingness and silence, was both a cause of depression (reliving memories, dating apps) and a relief from it (creating new friendships, distractions, also dating apps)”, says Pentu.

Pentu’s attempt to overcome content overload by actively curbing his setup of laptop-guitar--synth does little to reduce the scope of this album’s sonic palette. YouTube vlog samples (from videos with next-to-no views) are an attempt to recontextualise and dramatise material that “would have otherwise been throwaway moments lost in the internet”, adding staccato moments of reality to Pentu’s beautiful and jarring album-length paean to overstimulation.

When you listen to birds, they usually talk about food, sex/family, or anxiety. If they knew about the true nature of humanity's cruel and exploitative relationship with birds, they would be discussing rebellion. Humanity's current trajectory about birds is to cause the extinction of one-third of all bird species by the end of this century.

This record crystallises the borders between memory, beauty, and anxiety. At the core is an amalgam of all the birds we have met and heard, their sounds synthesised from a blend of memories. Esthetically it simulates the qualities of bird sounds, hitting similar frequential sweet spots. There is a great variety of birds captured here, from high to low frequencies, from solo voices to groups, from birds standing on their own to complex world-building, where the bird voices are part of an ecosystem, becoming one of the instruments.

You could stop there, enjoying this record on a musical level, but it invites us to do one step further, to consider reconfiguring our relationship with the Earth and its inhabitants. To question our impact, and to ask why we need synthetic bird music. Is it just a visionary endeavour or is it because we are failing at fostering a world in which organic birds and other creatures can thrive?

32 artists from the whole world, including our favourite artists from Eastern Europe, have contributed to this compilation both with new and previously released music. Their music is ordered from dawn to dusk and into the night. For many of the artists it's their first time on mappa, but some have previously released an album with us.

A chance meeting in Mexico City set Points of Inaccessibility into motion. When Ibero-American composer Rafael Anton Irisarri crossed paths with Dutch media artist Jaco Schilp at MUTEK in 2024, a conversation about how technology shapes perception revealed an unexpected common ground. Schilp invited Irisarri to a spring 2025 residency at Uncloud, the Utrecht-based collective he co-founded, where Irisarri's sound began to take form amid an environment shaped by Schilp’s visual research.

The Uncloud studio was located inside the former Pieter Baan Centre, a forensic psychiatric prison where suspects of violent crimes were once confined. Its long history of silence and containment shaped the atmosphere in which the project developed. Within this setting, Irisarri coaxed long bowed-guitar tones through a network of pedals and looping systems. The raw gestures thickened into a vaporous and architectural field of sound. Schilp processed the material through a custom point-cloud software patch that produced images in continuous flux. The visuals flickered, dissolved and reformed like memories that resist coherence, functioning as a digital Rorschach that reflected the observer’s own perception.

Amid these spectral echoes, the project evolved into an examination of how the past persists within present signals. Memory endures as residue and interference, continually shaping perception even when its source has faded.

Schilp’s visual process required a continuous stream of sound in real time. Irisarri improvised throughout the residency, generating material that allowed the visuals to develop in parallel. Once back in his New York studio, he began shaping the recordings by carving pathways through the improvisations and mapping selected passages into MIDI. This process allowed him to build outward from the bowed-guitar material with minimal overdubs, adding Prophet 5 textures, Moog bass and strings that expanded the harmonic field while keeping the original performances at the center. To refine the structure, Abul Mogard provided editorial input, working with Irisarri’s stems to guide transitions and strengthen the overall pacing. The material, originally created under conditions of immediacy and constraint, evolved into a fully realized work through careful revision, patience and sustained reworking.

The title engages the geographic concept of the Poles of Inaccessibility, locations defined solely by their distance from all surrounding points. Irisarri adapts this idea to the conditions of digital life, where new forms of inaccessibility arise through the informational enclosures that structure perception. What appears to be a fully connected network often produces a deeper kind of separation, one shaped by the filtering logic of the systems that mediate experience. In this sense, the digital sphere mirrors its geographic counterpart. We inhabit spaces saturated with signals, yet the possibility of genuine contact becomes increasingly remote.

At its core, Points of Inaccessibility considers what can be understood as the new rituals of capitalist realism. Irisarri uses the term digital shamanism to describe the forms of simulated connection that organize contemporary life. These systems promise comfort through algorithms, influencers and AI interlocutors, yet they often reproduce the same conditions that generate loneliness in the first place. What appears as connection becomes the echo of connection, a sequence of gestures that imitate solidarity while withholding it. Like the geographic poles, these rituals are defined by distance. They pull us into environments where everything is illuminated, yet meaningful proximity becomes increasingly rare. In this sense, the work approaches a hauntology of the present, a reflection on futures that have stalled and intimacies that have been thinned by the algorithmic infrastructures that surround us.

This thematic tension unfolds across the album’s four movements. Faded Ghosts of Clouds introduces the work with textures that rise and dissipate in slow cycles, creating an atmosphere that resists clear definition. Breaking the Unison occupies a pivotal position in the sequence and focuses on the moment when the individual and the system fall out of alignment. Its shifting patterns trace the scattering of signals that once suggested connection, revealing the instability at the heart of contemporary perception. Signals from a Distant Afterglow forms the center of the album and features vocals by Karen Vogt, whose presence enters the sound field like a fragile transmission shaped by distance and delay. The closing piece, Memory Strands, follows motifs that appear, recede and briefly intersect before returning to quiet. Across these movements, the album outlines a landscape in which emergence and disappearance continually inform one another.

Listening to Points of Inaccessibility is an encounter with a sound field that is constantly in flux. Elements surface briefly, shift position and recede, creating a sense of motion that resists stable interpretation. The music moves between closeness and vastness, carrying traces of memory while withholding a clear point of resolution.

The album’s visual identity completes the project’s conceptual arc. In Mexico City, where Irisarri and Schilp first met, Daniel Castrejón transformed stills from Schilp’s point-cloud visuals into the cover image. The final artwork captures a single suspended frame of the digital material, a moment extracted from a field that is normally in constant motion. Its surface recalls the texture and abstraction found in the work of Catalan artist Antoni Tàpies, where material presence and erasure coexist within the same plane.

What emerges is a work that examines the tension between technological systems and human presence. Points of Inaccessibility asks whether connection is still possible within environments shaped by mediation and delay, or whether we have become isolated points within the very networks that promise proximity. What possibilities for relation persist within environments organized by algorithms and interruption? And how are we meant to understand presence when so much of it is constructed at a distance?

Points of Inaccessibility will be released on BioVinyl on February 6, 2026, with audiovisual performances planned throughout 2026.

Mastered by Stephan Mathieu
Artwork by Jaco Schilp
Design and layout by Daniel Castrejón
Artist photo by Iulia Alexandra Magheru.

The late pedal-steel guitarist Susan Alcorn leaves a final surprise hinting at new directions left underexplored on her collaboration with Nomad War Machine, the improvising metal duo of drummer Julius Masri and guitarist James Reichard. Their death-metal-influenced pummel adds new fire to her molten flow across a suite of improvised tracks that show off the vast range and simpatico of the trio. Julius Masri and James Reichard of Nomad War Machine: “An unexpected opportunity arose out of a catching-up conversation where Susan had revealed a recent fascination with death metal, confessing, ‘I’m 70 years old—I think about death!’ She had learned a couple of Arch Enemy songs on her pedal steel, particularly compelled by their frontwoman’s intensity and vigor as a performer. Voicing an appreciation for the hook-oriented sound of Swedish death metal made sense for a melodic thinker whose roots as veteran pedal steel player reached into the Texan Western swing circuit in the ’60s and ’70s. For her, ever the explorer, metal was a new, appealing point of departure into fresh musical territory. When she expressed an interest in playing with Nomad War Machine, it felt like there was a whole world of shared or complementary interests to explore.” Though known for her fluency in jazz, country, and free improvisation, Alcorn had also studied Arabic, the oud, and maqam, with all holding a deep curiosity for her. Pre-’70s country & western music had also been a lifelong presence for both members Nomad War Machine. Masri, a Lebanese free-jazz and metal drummer, and devoted fan of Texas swing legends like Speedy West, Jimmy Bryant, Leon Rhodes, and Joe Maphis, was also steeped in Arabic music traditions. James Reichard, before coming to “freely” improvised metal, xenharmonic music, and non-Western tuning systems, had grown up being subjected to countless singalongs to numerous pre-’70s country records, entranced by the pedal steel.