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Season 2 formed in late 2024, bringing together seasoned Melbourne musicians with previous and current projects including Parsnip, The Stroppies and Phil and the Tiles. The five piece, comprising Carolyn Hawkins, Claudia Serfaty, Charlotte Zarb, Freya McLeod and Matt Powell, quickly set to work writing winsome, DIY, shimmer-pop hits that careen through your mind in a gratifying dizzy rush.

With a clear collective vision and little time to waste, Season 2 spent 2025 writing and recording, appearing live only a handful of times. Finally, this April, the band are primed for their debut release, a full-length album entitled 'Power of Now'. ‘Power of Now ‘is a cerebral explosion of melody, hooks, drones and rhythm. In the vein of The Feelies, The Vaselines and The Clean, Season 2 have whipped up a sonic whirlwind. It's a giddy thrill of snappy slap, catchy gang vocals and crystalline guitar refrains.

'Abundance of Power' is a bittersweet bop of ponderous bass, crisp chord flashes and grounded vocals that dwell on slighted futures and bored realities. 'Becomes a Dream' is a delirious race of scrappy strumming and flying phrases that unsettle as much as they pinball endorphins - "pour the ink into the sand, watch the dog it bites the hand". "Tell me something, elbows on the table, I'll tell you nothing, leave you tugging at the cable" they sing on the peppy future single 'Tugging at the Cable', capturing a certain innocent, wide-eyed expressiveness. Season 2 do sparky well, their songs are instant rewards, tunnelling into your subconscious and testing the dance floor. They keep everything moving, the beat and the conversation. Season 2 sound barely controlled and all the better for it, you have no choice but to be swept up.

'Power of Now' was recorded by Alex Macfarlane (The Green Child, Chateau) and mastered by Mikey Young. It will be released digitally and on LP (black vinyl) on April 24th, internationally via Upset The Rhythm and locally in Australia by Spoilsport Records.

Guests is the home recording project of Jessica Higgins and Matthew Walkerdine. Vaguely named as such to avoid any problems with the poster if they pull out of a gig (which has only happened once, about a year and half before any songs were actually written to be fair) but also to capture a sense of reverse hospitality. That is, arriving at your door with a bottle of good wine (can’t turn up empty handed) or a fist full of savoury or sweet snacks (time of day dependant); oversharing at the afters (and then passing out on your couch); reading to your toddler while you make their lunch or put everything back where it was meant to go (only to get torn apart again). So, something about what happens when private worlds meet each other, making or having been made a space for. But at times, it’s a different kind of intimacy, a temporal or material one, like the feeling of crisp fresh sheets, and abundant and soft, body-part appropriate towels in a hotel in a city you’ve been to before and love to go back to.

Their debut record, “I wish I was special”, was variously described as “a collage of concrète experiments and outerzone pop gestures, music that sounds as if it’s been written from the depths of a dream”; “music for people who love music but also hate it too”; “something like chasing ghosts or befriending a wild animal”; “pulling apart nervous sensations with haphazard ease and requisite humour”; and “a melody of refusal, of being all-in (…) finding the exact right WRONG sound to express the discontent”. Common Domestic Bird continues in this vein, layering synthesiser, keyboards and samples over rudimentary drum rhythms and field recordings, which are in turn sung or spoken with to create nine new songs.

Written and recorded between autumn 2024 and summer 2025 in Reading, Berkshire, the music has matured since its last outing, in a way, leaning less into collage and more toward structured composition and melodic depth, yet retains a healthy dose of indeterminacy and off-kilter rhythms for the forever-amateur. The songs on Common Domestic Bird hint at some “about”-ness through a series of discrete vignettes which sound a bit like architecture or end of year lists, gossip or over-thinking subjectivity, like disappearances and impressions, the support structure of the spine, letters and signs offs, things you could really do without and where they should go, hoping you’ll see something that isn’t there, pretences and performance. At times they feel kind of funny, others kind of sad or a bit angry and annoyed, a bit like you really.

Wah Wah 45s are very excited to announce a brand new remixes from dub donPrince Fattyfor beloved Afro-reggae outfitSoothsayers.

Love Is Still The Answeris a beautifully uplifting song, written and sung by long time Soothsayers member and collaboratorJulia Bielabout the eternal power of love and its ability to overcome hate. It appears in its original incarnation on the band's recent, critically acclaimed album,Fly Higher.

Mike Pelaconi, AKA Prince Fatty has been part of the Wah Wah 45s and Soothsayers extended family for many years, and here he delivers a typically crowd pleasing mix, in both vocal and dub form, from the world of Rockers Reggae, calling legendary reggae drummerHorsemaninto the studio, and crafting a lush rocksteady remix with a new horn arrangement and stripped back instrumentation.


"In a world that feels more divided and chaotic than ever,Love Is Still the Answer is a reminder that real change can still come from within. We may feel powerless in the face of global turmoil, but when we choose love - actively, consistently, even in tough situations - we reclaim strength for ourselves. This song calls us back to our shared humanity, to the energy that connects us all. It's an invitation to tune into what really matters, and to rediscover beauty where we may have forgotten to seek it." Robin Hopcraft (Soothsayers)

a A1: Prince Fatty Rockers Remix [feat. Julia B.]

[a] A1: Prince Fatty Rockers Remix [feat. Julia B.]

‘Confession' is an album of quiet upheaval. An album about closeness that arrives late and unexpectedly. About stability rubbing up against desire. About the way friendship can suddenly tilt into something charged — and how that charge unsettles everything around it. Where earlier work often observed from a distance, Confession turns inward. The voice is closer, warmer, less shielded. “This wasn’t the album I intended to make,” says Carla dal Forno. “I originally wanted something veiled and abstract, but I realised I couldn’t hide behind abstraction — the songs only worked when I leaned into emotional truth.”

This is dal Forno’s fourth LP, written and recorded over several years in a small country town, in a studio housed inside a partially abandoned hospital. Long corridors, humming lights, emptied rooms — a place built for care and waiting, now quiet enough for thoughts to echo. That stillness shapes the record: intimate, watchful, unadorned. “I live in a small country town that offers a stillness my life didn’t previously have,” she explains. “In that quiet, feelings I might’ve ignored in a busy city grew loud.” Dal Forno sings plainly and conversationally, with an emotional precision that sharpens the everyday into something quietly unsettling.

The album moves through paired states: going out and staying in, wanting and withholding, devotion and distraction. Domestic calm set against private unrest. A long-held relationship offers safety and routine, while a newer connection opens emotional fault lines — longing, jealousy, fantasy, self-exposure. “At the heart of the album is a friendship that became emotionally charged in an unexpected way,” dal Forno says. “That shift brought daydreaming, jealousy, tenderness, confusion, self-awareness — and eventually acceptance.”

The drama here is internal, incremental, lived. Musically, Confession feels lighter on its feet than its subject matter suggests. Melodic basslines anchor the songs while guitars, harmonies, and gently off-kilter rhythms move around them. There’s a looseness, even a playfulness — “like the sensation of tension lifting once you finally admit something to yourself,” as dal Forno puts it. The album traces a subtle arc: attraction blooming where it shouldn’t; obsession quietly taking hold; fantasy overtaking reality; clarity arriving slowly, sometimes painfully. Visually and emotionally, Confession returns to modest spaces: backyards, beds, night streets, overgrown paths. “The record exists in that contrast,” dal Forno reflects. “Peaceful surroundings, unsettled interior.”

Like all of dal Forno’s work, Confession resists clean conclusions. It doesn’t moralise desire or romanticise restraint. Instead, it lingers in the in-between — where love is stable but not total, where yearning teaches as much as it hurts, where solitude becomes a form of care. Plain-spoken but emotionally complex. Rooted and restless. Held together by bass, breath, routine, weather. An album about admitting what you feel —and living with what that admission changes.

Matias Aguayo drops debut single on Rekids‘El Internet’ is a prelude to the Coméme founder’ upcoming album on the label. Chile’s Matias Aguayo debuts on Rekids with ‘El Internet’, the first single of his upcoming album on Radio Slave’s acclaimed label. Coméme co-founder Aguayo’s ‘El Internet’ is a dancefloor-tested, pumping and uptempo track with personal, intimate vocals phoning in.

“El Internet” tells about walking through the city in hot summer nights looking for the perfect dancefloor and about moments in life where you feel (musical) freedom and change, revolutions in music and dreams in community, about YouTube, MySpace, Fotolog and about people who dance in their houses, yards and on the streets to primitive, raw, and direct music (like the rhythm of the track itself).” - Matias Aguayo

Chilean-born musician and DJ Matias Aguayo has been active for three decades, co-founding the Cómeme label in 2009 and releasing work on the likes of Kompakt, Pschent, Hard Fist, and Permanent Vacation. Beyond music, he has organised underground parties and led social projects, including a theatre production at Le Châtelet in Paris.

Radio Slave’s Rekids was founded in 2006 and has since spawned successful offshoots with the Techno-focused Rekids Special Projects in 2017 and its newest sublabel, REK’D, in 2024. With Matt Edwards as the sole A&R, Rekids has been crucial in developing early artist careers and has become a haven for established acts operating in House and adjacent genres, having recently featured the likes of Hilit Kolet, William Kiss, Tal Fussman, Tiger Stripes, Harry Rimero, The Hacker, Sean Johnston, and many more.

Produzent, Multiinstrumentalist und Lazy Robot-Labelbetreiber Tom Funk veröffentlicht sein funkiges und souliges Debütalbum - mit 10 Tracks von P-Funk und Neo-Soul bis zu Einflüssen von Marvin Gaye, James Brown und Lonnie Liston Smith. Mit gefeierten Gästen, darunter die britische Soul-Legende Omar Lye-Fook, David Mrakpor (Blue Lab Beats), Keyboard-Virtuose Matt Cooper, der Londoner Sänger Andre Espeut und die langjährigen Lazy-Robot-Partner Valentina Russo und Brae Leni aus Arkansas.

Kritikerstimmen:
- "Ein absolut großartiges Album." – Colin Curtis
- "Unglaublich!" – Reuben James, Jazz FM
- "Was für ein wunderschönes Stück Musik!" - Nick Hosier, Stomp Radio

UGHH – Underground Hyper Hero is the moniker of Vítězslav Špalek — composer, multi-instrumentalist, and singular sonic architect hailing from Karviná, a gritty coal-mining town in industrial Silesia, now living out his days under the sundrenched skies of southern Corfu. He improvises across synthesizer, trumpet, and voice, weaving musical collages from poetic texts spanning genres and movements. His collages carry an unsettling depth and pull you somewhere you didn't plan to go. They are distant lands beyond the water — where the trumpet cuts through space and time lurches forward in a sudden rush, only to nearly freeze and turn inward, listening to the echo of a far-off voice calling out from nowhere. A flock of birds drifts over a vast landscape while a powerful, repetitive beat pulses through all matter — living and dead alike. EP 49.923827, 14.221380 takes its name from the coordinates of its creation, and marks the first released material from the artist's yet-to-be-unveiled catalog. Three original tracks are joined by an eclectic postpunk remix from Berlin-based Menqui, an ethereal minimalist take from fellow Berliner Nadia D'Aló aka DALO, and local scene staple Mike.H — a devoted digger of obscure trance.

Backwoodz Studioz is excited to announce the release of Crayola Circles, a collaboration between rapper Fatboi Sharif and producer Child Actor. While both artists have long standing connections to Backwoodz, this album marks their first collaboration of any kind and breaks new artistic ground for all parties.


Sharif’s previous album, Decay, released on Backwoodz in 2023, was a haunting experimental rap masterpiece, an acid trip in a mental hospital. On Crayola Circles Sharif trades menacing psychedelia for a simmering stew of blacklight expressionism, his verses slipping effortlessly through the swells and tides of Child Actor’s masterful production. No matter how uneasy the waves grow, Sharif is at ease, a truth teller whispering anti-riddles in your ear. This album feels like a new chamber for Child Actor, as well. The producer has been on an impressive run since dropping CINE- a collaboration with rapper Cavalier- on Backwoodz in late 2024. Child Actor has shown up in the liner notes of everyone from Navy Blue (The Sword & The Soaring) to Earl Sweatshirt (Live, Laugh, Love) to ELUCID (Revelator) to Open Mike Eagle (Neighborhood Gods Unlimited), to Ghais Guevara (A Quest to Self-Mythologize), amongst others. On Crayola Circles Child Actor’s production is dynamic, shifting and sliding into new phases and movements in an instant. The beats are full and knotty, leaning into jazz and folk, while remaining tethered to the tender minimalism that is his signature. It’s a difficult balance for any producer, and here it is executed perfectly, placing us in a world of wood and brass, cowhide and undersea piano. On any other record, this soundscape would steal the show — and it very nearly does — but Sharif’s command never wavers, ever in control; a lucid dreamer in an induced coma.
There are no guests, no skits, and no interludes. There might not even be songs, instead Crayola Circles seems akin to a great river; singular, traversing forest and jungle, mountain and valley, running from mouth to endless sea.

Backwoodz Studioz is excited to announce the release of Crayola Circles, a collaboration between rapper Fatboi Sharif and producer Child Actor. While both artists have long standing connections to Backwoodz, this album marks their first collaboration of any kind and breaks new artistic ground for all parties.


Sharif’s previous album, Decay, released on Backwoodz in 2023, was a haunting experimental rap masterpiece, an acid trip in a mental hospital. On Crayola Circles Sharif trades menacing psychedelia for a simmering stew of blacklight expressionism, his verses slipping effortlessly through the swells and tides of Child Actor’s masterful production. No matter how uneasy the waves grow, Sharif is at ease, a truth teller whispering anti-riddles in your ear. This album feels like a new chamber for Child Actor, as well. The producer has been on an impressive run since dropping CINE- a collaboration with rapper Cavalier- on Backwoodz in late 2024. Child Actor has shown up in the liner notes of everyone from Navy Blue (The Sword & The Soaring) to Earl Sweatshirt (Live, Laugh, Love) to ELUCID (Revelator) to Open Mike Eagle (Neighborhood Gods Unlimited), to Ghais Guevara (A Quest to Self-Mythologize), amongst others. On Crayola Circles Child Actor’s production is dynamic, shifting and sliding into new phases and movements in an instant. The beats are full and knotty, leaning into jazz and folk, while remaining tethered to the tender minimalism that is his signature. It’s a difficult balance for any producer, and here it is executed perfectly, placing us in a world of wood and brass, cowhide and undersea piano. On any other record, this soundscape would steal the show — and it very nearly does — but Sharif’s command never wavers, ever in control; a lucid dreamer in an induced coma.
There are no guests, no skits, and no interludes. There might not even be songs, instead Crayola Circles seems akin to a great river; singular, traversing forest and jungle, mountain and valley, running from mouth to endless sea.

Scissor and Thread presents Tailored Cuts, Vol. 06, a four-track selection that accompanies the digital compilation album. All four tracks appear on vinyl for the first time. Opening the A-side is a brand new and exclusive dub mix of Soela & Module One’s Drowning, reworked by Matthias Reiling (one half of Session Victim). Originally taken from Soela’s Dark Portrait album, the track is reshaped here into a spacious and hypnotic dub that emphasizes texture, atmosphere and patient groove. "I have been a fan of both Soela's and Module One's music for quite a while now," says Reiling, "so getting the chance to remix their collaboration from Soela's beautiful Dark Portrait album is a huge honor. I tried to keep the elegant and somewhat tender synth work close to it's original spirit and combine it with simple drumkit samples, acoustic guitar, electric bass and a dash of space echo. The process put me in a slightly eerie, yet romantic mood, which, so I hope, translates a little when listening to the result."
Also on the A-side, Black Light Smoke’s Love Triangle appears in ZG’s remix, a lush and understated reimagining that balances warmth with rhythmic precision. On the B-side, Hidden Spheres remix of Francis Harris’ Earth Moves feat. Eliana Glass appears alongside DaRand Land’s Passion Motion from his album Wander Being, "a more upbeat ride, with melodic overtones that drive the “passion”. Personally, it’s my interpretation of some of the sounds from mid-90’s Chicago." says DaRand Land.

The fifth release on Objekt’s Kapsela imprint is (re)weave, an EP of crystalline club tracks from Detroit-born, London-based producer Tristan Arp.

(re)weave was written during a prolonged period of flux for the artist. “When I started making this record, my life and the world felt like a maze,” he recounts. As he routed and re-routed through past and future homes – Mexico to New York to Detroit to Mexico and finally to London – his output bore the marks of this repeated uprooting. “I was thinking about making music that reflected these twists and turns, and the knotty pathways through them. I was also re-reading Borges around this time, which must have influenced my interest in labyrinths.”

Accordingly, the EP is a mycelial puzzle, a tangle of spidery, undulating ostinatos and earthy percussion, stitched through with syncopated kicks. Employing the sounds of multitudinous critters and kin – whales, insects, thunder, water, forests – the arrangements sum to a sentient mesh of organic matter, the compositions living and breathing like earthly beings. Kaleidoscopic tendrils explore in every direction but are always underpinned by a driving, percussive backbone. It’s not easily classifiable: it’s bass-driven, but to simply call it “bass music” would sell it short.

In keeping with the winding geographical paths traced over the EP’s creation, (re)weave saw Tristan Arp revisiting and reinterpreting unfinished sessions and incorporating them into newer ideas. Rhythms and sounds have been transplanted and self-recycled from previous projects and woven into the fabric of the record. In this way, (re)weave also describes a looping back over time, a recalibration of the self from past to present through interlocking rhythms, channeling and communing with versions of oneself from times gone by.

The closing track, Wish Server, slows the EP to walking pace and hints at tentatively emerging from the deepest jungle into a delicate, innocent light. Tristan Arp imagines it as a dialog with a baby-self. “Some of my earliest memories are of sitting at my mother’s loom,” he offers. “The sequence of these tracks traces these feelings and follows the thread back to the primordial soup… through mazes… to a feeling of levitation.”

LP Transparent Purple Vinyl in Picture Sleeve

The essential debut album from Chicago’s disco-funk pioneers, featuring the timeless “Free Man,” returns fully remastered from the tapes of Tom Moulton for RSD 2026. Produced by Philly soul legends Bunny Sigler and Bruce Hawes, this record bridges Chicago’s raw energy with Philly’s orchestral elegance. Essential for any collector serious about the roots of disco and dancefloor culture — an all-killer, no-filler LP that sounds fresher than ever today. Remastered and Redesigned labels and sleeve, Transparent Purple Vinyl.

long content, you may need to expand row to see all... Begin Here features fan favorites “She’s Not There, “Summertime,” and “The Way I Feel Inside,” plus three US bonus tracks including “Tell Her No.”

This definitive new edition combines all 17 tracks from the UK and US versions of The Zombies’ 1965 debut album, remastered in its original mono mix. Begin Here (Mono Remastered) is the next chapter in the series of Zombies reissues via the band’s own label Beechwood Park Records, with the same team as Odessey and Oracle - again being overseen by Matthew and Jamie White, mastering by Reuben Cohen at Lurssen Mastering, and brand-new liner notes by the legendary David Fricke. The album will be housed in a single pocket jacket with poly-lined sleeves and an insert.

Italy via Atlanta, say hello to Titino and “Sun Splicer”, the latest release on The Comfort. Three separate ideas connect this EP across 4 tracks. It toys with the expectations of its listener — core features morph as tracks progress, stable kick patterns turn to breaks and in reverse, simple stabs progress to melodic junctions. Acid permeates this record, not as a clear motif but a tinged essence. And it’s sincere, both to the setting of these pieces and where they’ll be listened to and what it honors.

“Shblasted” — a back-and-forth groove machine filled with dub sirens and stepped up acid. Clubby introduction meant for sacred dance floors.

“Ouachita” on the A2 is controlled chaos, snares fly around, synth lines seem to want to escape their own confines and it just bursts onto the listener. Then the keys come in, the groove stabilizes, pads become bigger and new life is given.

The B-side is playful. “Sun Splicer” is perhaps most aptly categorized by a now notorious idea of ‘electro house’, and the pure aggressive euphoria this track carries just might be that, but as we all know the Italians do it differently — it’s a heady dark excursion. “Existenz” is all-smiles no matter how menacing its first contact, a hook of a track that reimagines the weirder side of Italian trance — think Interactive Test at its most wonderful. The dusty snares feel like a balancing tool instead of an homage.

Seit nunmehr über zwanzig Jahren als Duo zusammen, setzen Hammock ihre bemerkenswerte Reihe klanglicher Entdeckungsreisen mit The Second Coming Was A Moonrise" fort. Der Titel fängt einen Moment der Entdeckung ein, als Byrd und ein Freund in seinen späten Teenagerjahren unter dem Einfluss von Psychedelika den Mondaufgang für die Wiederkunft Christi hielten. Byrd und Thompson, beide in erster Linie Gitarristen, haben festgestellt, dass ihre musikalische Verbundenheit immer stärker wird, während ihre gemeinsame Arbeit im Laufe der Jahre noch dramatischer und reichhaltiger wird, auf der Suche nach einem Gefühl von mitreißender, schimmernder klanglicher Ehrfurcht, das sich niemals einfach als etwas anderes als sich selbst zusammenfassen lässt. The Second Coming Was A Moonrise" setzt diese Empfindungen der Entdeckung fort und fühlt sich gleichzeitig wie eines ihrer intimsten Alben an, während es das reiche Gefühl von Erhabenheit erforscht, das sie im Gegenzug erschaffen können. Ein Großteil von The Second Coming" ist instrumental oder fügt nur wortlose Gesangssenken und Texturen hinzu, wenn auch immer mit Titeln, die bewusst gewählt wurden. Byrd greift mit Chemicals Make You Small" erneut auf seine drogenbefeuerten Fluchtversuche zurück, wobei zwei namhafte Gäste mitwirken: Wayne Coyne und Steven Drozd von The Flaming Lips, die Gesang und Keyboards beisteuern. Zu den weiteren wiederkehrenden Gastmusikern gehören der regelmäßige Mitstreiter Matt Kidd von Slow Meadow, der Streicher und Gitarre beisteuert, Matthew Doty von Deserta an Synthesizern und Gitarre, Christine Byrd von Lumenette mit engelsgleichem Gesang, Chad Howat am Keyboard und Bass sowie Jake Finch mit bemerkenswertem Schlagzeugspiel.

The first release of Sub Culture, Puzzle by Gregory Shiff, is a tech house masterpiece with both delicacy and an innate strength. The original release came out in 2003 on the American label Matter/:Form Records and immediately caught the attention of lovers of the genre. The release features four versions of Puzzle, including an “Unreleased mix” produced in 2003. A highly respectable repress for record bags, not only for those who love tech house.

Death Is Not The End collaborate with Uzbek label Maqom Soul to deliver an LP counterpart to last year's mixtape of the same title, compiling specially picked & fully licensed individual belters from the ex-soviet studios of Central Asian republics between 1978 and 1989 - incl. Uzbek, Tajik, Kurdish & Uyghur artists pulling traditional folk motifs together with pop & rock and psych elements.

"These recordings do not form a smooth or coherent history. They feel more like a sequence of discoveries made at different moments and in different circumstances. Songs and instrumental pieces that once lived inside specific contexts radio broadcasts, philharmonic programs, touring routes now sit side by side, revealing hidden connections as well as clear fractures between them.

Nasiba Abdullaeva appears here as a voice from the end of an era. Trained within a conservatory system, she worked inside the format of the Soviet pop song while filling it with melodic logic that did not come from Moscow or Leningrad. Her voice is soft and sustained, shaped by Eastern melisma, and it never functions as decoration. Even in tightly structured songs there is a sense of resistance, an effort to preserve a musical language rooted in Uzbek tradition rather than fully adapted to an all Union standard.

The ensemble Sintez, later renamed Navo, represents a different path. Beginning as a student rock group, the band was gradually absorbed into the official VIA system with all its limitations and compromises. Yet it was precisely within those boundaries that Sintez and Navo developed a recognizable sound. Electric guitars and jazz rock harmonies do not overpower the folk material but remain in tension with it. Their recordings feel like negotiations between what the musicians wanted to play and what they were allowed to perform.

The Tajik ensemble Gulshan reflects an institutional approach carried to a high professional level. Formed under television and radio structures, the group treated folk material almost as a written score. Carefully constructed arrangements, close attention to orchestration, and restrained use of pop techniques define their sound. There is less spontaneity here, but a strong sense of discipline and structure, where national melody becomes part of a carefully controlled sonic framework.

Koma Wetan occupies a very different space. Formed in the 1970s, this Kurdish rock group approached poetry and folklore as tools of cultural assertion. Their psychedelic rock never feels like a stylistic borrowing. Instead it functions as a contemporary vessel for language and themes that might otherwise have remained unheard. Even today these recordings sound fragile and stubborn at the same time.

The Uyghur ensemble Yashlik, closely connected to a musical drama theatre, operated somewhere between stage performance and popular music. Their songs are built on folk melodies but shaped for wide audiences. What emerges is a constant attempt to preserve the recognizability of Uyghur musical identity without freezing it in a folkloric frame. Yashlik's music exists in a state of balance between representation and development.

Digging Central Asia does not attempt to establish hierarchies or offer a single wayof listening. Names and dates matter less than the sound itself. Tape noise, abrupt transitions, and unexpected timbres remain part of the material rather than flaws to be corrected. This music existed at the crossroads of multiple routes geographic, cultural, and ideological. Heard today in a new context, it no longer feels peripheral. Instead it stands as a reminder that the history of popular music is far more fragmented, layered, and polyphonic than it is usually allowed to be."

On "Enduring Sonance," saxophonist and flutist Steve Wilson reflects on a lifetime of lyrical, deeply felt songs drawn from jazz, pop, and film—brought to life by an all-star ensemble featuring Renee Rosnes, Joe Locke, Jay Anderson, and Kendrick Scott. *** Certain songs have a way of lingering in the imagination—resonating long after we’ve last heard them, sometimes for a lifetime. On his breathtaking new album "Enduring Sonance," veteran saxophonist and flutist Steve Wilson celebrates the music that has left the deepest imprint on his musical life. “Some of the tunes on this record have stayed with me for, in some cases, over 50 years from the time that I first heard them,” Wilson says. “I wanted to put some music out there that people can connect with, no matter what kind of music they like.” Originally conceived as a ballads project, Enduring Sonance evolved into something broader and more personal. Rather than focusing on tempo or style, Wilson gravitated toward a sense of lyricism—music whose emotional clarity and melodic resonance endure across genres, decades, and listening habits.

To realize this vision, Wilson assembled a deeply intuitive ensemble featuring pianist and arranger Renee Rosnes, vibraphonist Joe Locke, bassist Jay Anderson, and drummer Kendrick Scott, with special guest Kevin Newton (French horn, Imani Winds) appearing on two tracks. Each musician brings a rare sensitivity to melody, texture, and space, allowing the material to unfold with warmth, restraint, and quiet authority. The repertoire draws from a wide musical landscape, including works by close collaborators and modern jazz masters Billy Childs and George Cables, alongside enduring songs by Michel Legrand, Quincy Jones, Milton Nascimento, Gino Vannelli, Bill Lee, and Eliane Elias. These are not standards in the traditional sense, but deeply personal selections—songs that have accompanied Wilson through different chapters of his life. The album opens with Childs’ “Quiet Girl,” its subtle rhythmic motion enhanced by Newton’s luminous French horn, and travels through cinematic ballads, soulful grooves, and reflective lyricism. The title Enduring Sonance speaks both to the lasting resonance of these songs and to Wilson’s enduring musical relationships—most notably with Rosnes, whom he has known for nearly four decades and whose sensitive arrangements help unify the album’s diverse repertoire. “These songs are the soundtrack of my life,” Wilson says. “I’d love it if listeners came away from this album with the same kind of enduring sound and feeling.”

On their seventh studio album, Lost Cause Lover Fool (due April 24th on Far Cry/Thirty Tigers), The Milk Carton Kids deliver 9 songs that, more than ever, invite listeners to lean in close and hover in the small moments the album magnifies. Much has changed since The Milk Carton Kids — Los Angeles-based singer-songwriters Kenneth Pattengale and Joey Ryan — burst on the Folk scene in 2011. And The Milk Carton Kids have changed too. But at least one constant remains. Pattengale and Ryan continue to make music that entices us turn down the volume on a chaotic world and dwell as long as possible on what matters most. With rootsy arrangements, Lost Cause Lover Fool expands on the duo’s signature minimalist sound their fans love while also, somehow, making it even smaller. Lost Cause Lover Fool begins with the lonesome pluck and strum of the banjo on “Blue Water.”

Often employed either for lightning-speed or rhythm, here the banjo is handled carefully, with reticence, so that it feels more like light cast across a stretch of grass than a whole bluegrass instrument. Lyrically, this album-opener zooms in on a snapshot of a man walking along a riverside, remembering the child that used to lay on his chest who has now grown to share his worried mind. It’s a moment so small it might easily have been dismissed, except that it holds an emotion as universal as it is fleeting. Lost Cause Lover Fool magnifies many such small moments, turns them into mesmerizing worlds, and reminds us — pleads with us — to pay attention to them as they go by.