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2026 Repress

December 2012 I showed up totally exhausted in Vancouver BC after touring stupidly and relentlessly for however many straight months and got a job at a call centre raising money for the Red Cross. It was a scent free office but one time this woman cooked a piece of fish in the microwave for 10 minutes on low and hot boxed the whole office - we got sent home early no pay. There was the other woman I named the Call Centre Coltrane because her pitch and routine usually involved improvised flights of fancy that went off in both directions at once somehow landing back down with a credit card number and a donation. I used to sleep under the desk. I was there a few months and at the time I reconnected with John Brennan who I had played with briefly in Montreal at the Mutek Festival. In Montreal John was running an experimental music night at a burrito shop downtown called Garbage Night. While in Vancouver I began connecting with the music scene there and would go hang out with the Shearing Pinx lads who I think lived with Sydney the bass player at the time. I knew Nic and Jer from an AIDS Wolf Tour and was so stoked to get to know them both better. I really fell in love with that era of Vancouver's music scene.
Fast Forward to today. 2024
Actually it was the dying days of 2023 but you get it and John asks if I'll sit in with Earth Ball and I keep thinking about Earth Balance, the vegan butter everyone eats here. I brought my aching bones and my ipads on the beautiful ferry named the Queen of Oak Bay and out to Nanaimo BC, home of the nanaimo bar (a dessert treat - special to this region - that seems to be more popularly found under the weird glass sneeze guards in office building deli's out east in Ontario.... anyhoops ). No one in Nanaimo wants to talk to me about the famous treat. I asked a couple of people. Silence. Nanaimo is like London, Ontario but more fried and by the sea. The town is filled with blown out old sea dawgs with tin coffee pots and loose leaf tobacco, then there's the usual streetfolk you find in this part of the Canadian Pacific Northwest and a bunch of bohemians who I guess have left Vancouver behind - that fine city having become uninhabitable for those not making over 100k a year. And then up the way are all the retirees.
Yup Nanaimo is a strange one. They mined the shit out of this region and Nanaimo is surely haunted by those buried in mining shafts or maimed by the heavy machinery or blown up by accident in the explosives store house. And when Earth Ball fire up the amps in Izzy and Jer's basement you can hear the voices of the ghosts hum through electrical lines and out the speakers, Kellen's hued feedback, Izy's sturdy basslines, Jer's paperbag guitar tone and rumble pack zaps, Liam's (aka the Kid) sheets of sound and Brennen's multidirectional drums.
You wouldn't guess Earth Ball was auto-composing and from what my rat brain can tell - the lyrics are improvised too...Improvising lyrics and singing them is the hardest thing to do in all of music.. Izzy and Jer are pros. And their attitudes are pro too.
The live show is scorched and without naming names they've been known to make headliners nervous. Lucky ones will get to see them live as they tour this beast of a record entitled ‘It’s Yours’ (out May 17th on Upset The Rhythm) and I hope I'm one of them.
But now you, fan of fun but totally fucked up music, have the opportunity to Ball with them thanks to Upset The Rhythm. Enjoy
-Alex Moskos, Montreal QC, Feb 2024

In Living Color proudly presents Wasi Wasi EP, the debut label release from
Kenyan-born, Berlin-based artist Emo Rugene.

A striking first statement from one of the most exciting emerging voices in African electronic music, Wasi Wasi introduces Rugene's distinctive sound while reflecting the bold, forward-thinking vision at the heart of Living Color. Blending deep cultural roots with contemporary electronic production, the EP marks the arrival of an artist helping shape the future of the genre.

Deeply rooted in African rhythm and musical heritage, Wasi Wasi is a body of work that embraces the past while looking confidently toward the future. Blending hypnotic grooves, organic percussion, and contemporary electronic production, the EP reflects a new generation of artists drawing inspiration from their roots while carving out their own unique artistic identity.

The release features two compelling vocal collaborations that enrich its storytelling. “Wasi Wasi (Vocal Mix)” features Alai K, whose deep ancestral vocal brings a powerful spiritual presence to the title track. “Sahara Dena” features Soukou, whose soulful vocal performance adds warmth, emotion, and depth, creating a beautiful dialogue between tradition and contemporary sound.

With Wasi Wasi EP, Emo Rugene stands among a new generation of African electronic music artists redefining the future on their own terms. His music is deeply connected to where it comes from, yet unafraid to explore new ideas, proving that heritage is not something to preserve behind glass, but something to carry forward with imagination and purpose.

More than a collection of tracks, Wasi Wasi EP is a celebration of movement, identity, and possibility, a record that honours the voices of those who came before while contributing to the sound of tomorrow.

*COMES IN GATEFOLD 2LP WITH LINER NOTES*

The premise of this compilation is simple: music we’d like to hear at the airport.

The idea came after learning that Honolulu’s international airport has been playing AI-generated music over its speakers since November 2025. First reported by Civil Beat, the news has caused frustration and disappointment among residents and visitors, as well as within the local music community.

Everyone knows Hawaii is one of the most musically rich regions in the world — why then is the airport using AI music? 'Music For The Airport' is our response.

Located in the middle of the Pacific at the outskirts of one the most remote cities on the planet, Honolulu’s Daniel K. Inouye International Airport (HNL) is for most people the first place they encounter when they arrive in Hawaii. Warm sun, tropical tradewinds, playful palm trees and majestic mountains welcome every traveler, as do the sounds of birds, familiar music from Hawaiian artists like Aunty Genoa Keawe and Israel Kamakawiwo’ole, and—at least for now—seventeen “island-themed” AI-generated songs.

In late 1977, while sitting in Germany’s Cologne Bonn Airport on a Sunday morning, Brian Eno noticed how terribly uncomfortable he felt hearing the airport’s “muzak” overhead. For a harried, hurried place like the airport where travelers scramble to their gates, stand in long border control lines, and wait impatiently for their luggage at the carousels, music can create more anxiety than calm. Asking himself, "What should we be hearing here?", Eno soon created ‘Ambient 1: Music For Airports’, a sonic remedy aimed at reducing nervousness in public spaces.

When we heard the news that HNL airport is playing AI-generated “muzak”, we were immediately reminded of Eno’s genre-defying 1978 album. And we were similarly inspired to react. But how? Recreating an ambient masterpiece wasn’t in our wheelhouse. We started digging through our catalog of licensed music which we haven’t yet re-released. We quickly realized this was our chance to highlight some of favorite songs from the so-called CD era: the 1990s and 2000s (with a few exceptions). In less than 20 minutes, we pulled 17 original songs recorded by local artists between 1984 and 2017.

The speed at which this project came together surprised us; reactionary gut instinct often produces swift and lasting results. Ironically, our new compilation likely took less time than it did for the state Department of Transportation to commission its AI songs in question. But even though ‘Music for the Airport’ came together in less than one week, the truth is that this collection of 17 songs is the result of years of hard work, trust, sacrifice, patience, and understanding. Building relationships with and licensing music from artists doesn’t happen overnight, but more importantly: these songs are the result of people pouring their hearts and souls into something they believe in. This music wouldn’t exist today without the artists and their loved ones who supported them along the way.

As of this writing, the DOT states its intention in creating AI-generated songs is to “highlight different aspects of the islands, aviation and the airport” and that “no state funds were used to produce them”. Okay, but at what cost? Technology disrupting the music industry isn’t news to anyone. AI music in public spaces are cost-saving measures, since its users (airports, for example) don’t have to pay the licensing fees typically required, which can be a worthwhile source of revenue for artists. But what happens when a place like HNL airport, which hosts more than 21 million passengers annually, uses music created by machines instead of people to represent Hawaii? The identity of a place beings to erode, diluted by a language learning model’s conceptual summary of what a people and its culture sounds like. To echo Brian Eno: what should we be hearing here? In other words: what should the music of Hawaii sound like?

We believe in the power of music, especially when it comes from the soul. We believe in supporting artists, especially as AI disrupts our lives. We believe that Hawaii must be represented authentically, especially when it comes to song. And of course we believe in vinyl, especially since it was a record from 1978 (Mackey Feary Band’s debut LP) that inspired Aloha Got Soul’s origins in 2010.

We hope you find as much joy in this compilation as we have. Perhaps it’ll soundtrack your next journey to Hawaii. At the very least, we hope some people take a moment to hear these sounds: in your headphones for now‚ maybe someday overhead at the airport in Honolulu.

There is a hush most of us only knew as children, the warm drift between familiar household sounds and being carried to bed, a place that belongs to you and to some self you have not met yet. June McDoom’s debut full-length, Follow the Light, lives in that dream space and then keeps walking, slipping out of time and waking somewhere new, barely familiar enough to feel like home yet wholly your own. She came up in a Jamaican household on the edge of the Florida Everglades, an existence built of extended family, communal care, bass and harmonics. Her father, a carpenter and a student of sound, built his own speakers and kept three sound systems going across as many rooms. His low end would rise through her bedroom floor like some wayward cat while she lay above it with folk records, finding harmonies that were new and hers alone. Two musics in one room. Lushness as past and premonition. She found folk on her own, somewhere between the cast recording of The Sound of Music and Simon and Garfunkel, while everyone around her called it sleepy music. She did not mind being the only one. The solitude let her fall for harmony first, before words, before anything else, and harmony is still the thing she reaches for. Generationally speaking, the music was already in the air. Her grandfather, Colin Smith, is a distinguished mento man who played banjo and guitar and built his own rumba boxes, worked to keep Jamaica’s oldest acoustic folk form alive. Mento is the root of all of it: ska, rock steady, reggae, dub and everything after. He is the one who put a guitar in her hands. An inheritance, a gift and a map. Even her name is part of it, though she will tell you she landed on it more by feel than reason. She records as June McDoom, born Alyssa, June being a nickname one of her grandmothers, Joan, went by, a name she thought was cool to carry and simply liked the sound of. An etheric channel that reverberates all the same. A dub all its own.


Made slowly and by hand with her longtime partner Evan Wright, Follow the Light lays the harmony of folk over the rhythm of dub, with Dionne Warwick, Minnie Riperton, Pentangle and the washed guitars of Cocteau Twins haunting its outer edges. Voice and guitar seeking each other out first, then everything else stacked across long days in the studio they keep at home, restraint kept on purpose. The lead single “Without You” is the whole method surfacing, split open and sparkling like a geode in a creek bed. Angelic heroics, and nothing less.


At the heart is family. Her grandmother Aggie, the light behind “Memory,” guiding still. And underneath, the quieter truth the record keeps: none of us are only one person, but a continuum of selves, the ones who shaped us and the ones we have yet to meet. Future you is an ancestor your current self gets to greet. Press play and the same invitation is yours: A few minutes out of time, a place that turns familiar the longer you stay until you surface somewhere new and find it was yours all along

There is a hush most of us only knew as children, the warm drift between familiar household sounds and being carried to bed, a place that belongs to you and to some self you have not met yet. June McDoom’s debut full-length, Follow the Light, lives in that dream space and then keeps walking, slipping out of time and waking somewhere new, barely familiar enough to feel like home yet wholly your own. She came up in a Jamaican household on the edge of the Florida Everglades, an existence built of extended family, communal care, bass and harmonics. Her father, a carpenter and a student of sound, built his own speakers and kept three sound systems going across as many rooms. His low end would rise through her bedroom floor like some wayward cat while she lay above it with folk records, finding harmonies that were new and hers alone. Two musics in one room. Lushness as past and premonition. She found folk on her own, somewhere between the cast recording of The Sound of Music and Simon and Garfunkel, while everyone around her called it sleepy music. She did not mind being the only one. The solitude let her fall for harmony first, before words, before anything else, and harmony is still the thing she reaches for. Generationally speaking, the music was already in the air. Her grandfather, Colin Smith, is a distinguished mento man who played banjo and guitar and built his own rumba boxes, worked to keep Jamaica’s oldest acoustic folk form alive. Mento is the root of all of it: ska, rock steady, reggae, dub and everything after. He is the one who put a guitar in her hands. An inheritance, a gift and a map. Even her name is part of it, though she will tell you she landed on it more by feel than reason. She records as June McDoom, born Alyssa, June being a nickname one of her grandmothers, Joan, went by, a name she thought was cool to carry and simply liked the sound of. An etheric channel that reverberates all the same. A dub all its own.


Made slowly and by hand with her longtime partner Evan Wright, Follow the Light lays the harmony of folk over the rhythm of dub, with Dionne Warwick, Minnie Riperton, Pentangle and the washed guitars of Cocteau Twins haunting its outer edges. Voice and guitar seeking each other out first, then everything else stacked across long days in the studio they keep at home, restraint kept on purpose. The lead single “Without You” is the whole method surfacing, split open and sparkling like a geode in a creek bed. Angelic heroics, and nothing less.


At the heart is family. Her grandmother Aggie, the light behind “Memory,” guiding still. And underneath, the quieter truth the record keeps: none of us are only one person, but a continuum of selves, the ones who shaped us and the ones we have yet to meet. Future you is an ancestor your current self gets to greet. Press play and the same invitation is yours: A few minutes out of time, a place that turns familiar the longer you stay until you surface somewhere new and find it was yours all along

* long version / previously unreleased on vinyl
** exclusive / previously unreleased
Felix Laband's highly acclaimed electronica masterpiece album "Dark Days Exit" (2005) is now available as an Extended Version 2LP vinyl. Originally planned for last year's 20th anniversary, this special edition features a new design by Felix Laband and includes a double-sided DIN A2 art print. Dark Days Exit features four exclusive tracks, alongside five vinyl-only tracks available for the first time in their original long versions. Listening to the key track, Sleeping Household, on Dark Days Exit is unsettling: like being an impostor rambling around an uncanny house, a Lynchian leitmotif in the form of a young girl divulging secrets that you probably shouldn't hear. Dark Days Exit is an album that paints an interior landscape, an invitation to transgress private thresholds. Made with old-school production tools that require hands-on application, Dark Days Exit is a sound-production tour de force. The music is as wide as the savannah and microscopic at the same time, a lesson in what can be achieved when 'music' is placed on an equal footing with sound as a phenomenon, by an artist who decides to apply themselves without reserve. The masterful manipulation of reverb and delays and hyper-detail was a generation ahead of its time, and Dark Days Exit is preferred by audiophiles for testing their systems. Dark Days Exit is intimate, demanding, and a masterclass in tension, and Laband's ability to use all sound without hierarchy to paint a detailed personal vision — one that is less overtly political and streetwise than on subsequent albums — is unsurpassed. Most discerning listeners are into music because, in the hands of a master, it can manipulate our mood and transport us. Felix Laband opens with a sonic portrait of spring happiness and gradually dismantles the atmosphere in front of our ears, as epitomised by the haunting track Black Shoes. No sooner are we afraid than the artist drops us off where we started. In many ways, the intimacy derives from the tight group of friends and believers whom Laband corralled as contributors: Mark van Niekerk (xylophone, "Miss Teardrop"), Jane Rademeyer (clarinet, "Black Shoes," "Radio Right Now"), Brendon Bussy (mandolin, "Black Shoes"), and Derek Gripper (sampled violin, used throughout) and Alex van Heerden on Minka. The difficulty in categorising Dark Days Exit is probably due to Laband listening mostly to ambient and classical music at the time, and consequently registering the album at the lush, cinematic end of the electronic spectrum. There is poise and restraint in the spare use of beats, and when they do appear, they hit hard. Forged in the optimistic post-apartheid years, Dark Days Exit is music about life and death, spanning hope, despair, terror, tension, with humour and empathy. Twenty one years on, the album's gravity endures, due to its almost perverse authenticity, its timeless themes of hope and despair, and its apex level of technical mastery. The additional, immaculately produced tracks add new rooms to the uncanny house we are invited into.

For more than two decades, AJJ has been writing albums that attempt to make sense of an increasingly confusing world. And the Arizona band has repeatedly succeeded, somehow managing to find the small traces of hope and beauty buried in the wreckage of a decaying planet. But on their ninth album, Dirty Old Power, they are coming to terms with the fact that they may no longer have the words to express it all. In fact, the proper words of communication may not even exist anymore.

Dirty Old Power takes stock of this surreal moment in American history where the post-World War II power structures of capitalism have given rise to full-on techno-fascism, and where humanity is being displaced by data centers, VR headsets, doomscrolling, and artificial versions of our loved ones.

To capture the disparate array of unique styles that make up Dirty Old Power, AJJ returned to Animal Rites studio in Los Angeles to record with their pal, Grammy-winning producer John Congleton, who also produced 2014’s Christmas Island and 2016’s The Bible 2. And for the cover artwork, the band turned to Winston Smith, the legendary visual artist known most famously for his iconic designs and logo for Dead Kennedys.

After the acclaimed Bar Mediterraneo, Massimo Di Lena and Lucio Aquilina return with People Of The Moon, expanding their sound into a space of creative freedom. The “People of the Moon” are not fictional, but a dimension within us all: a deeply personal yet universal force, an alternative mindset that emerges when freed from social constraints.



Under moonlight, the album explores anxieties and aspirations through groove and rhythm, expressed in Neapolitan, Arabic, English, Spanish, and Portuguese. It moves fluidly from Afro-Cuban influences in “Celavì” to Anatolian textures in “Ma Tu Che Bbuò”, blending highlife guitars with Nu Genea’s signature mandolins-new rhythms filtered through an Italian lens.



The first single “Sciallà” (2025) introduced this direction: dance as catharsis, not escape. The title track reflects a quiet resilience-persistent rather than triumphant. “Onenon”, featuring Tom Misch, channels Mediterranean brit-funk, while “Acelera”, with María José Llergo, evokes a flamenco-tinged pursuit of the unattainable.



“Puleza” recalls Nuova Napoli with driving energy and vintage synths, while “Shway Shway”, sung by Celinatique, captures the album’s orbital flow-measured, rich, and rhythmically complex, echoing afrobeat explorations with Tony Allen.



Melody remains central, as in “Carè”. Across ten tracks, falling, flying, and dancing merge in a suspended groove. Gabriel Prado’s “Ondas Do Mar” embodies this pull: a cyclical motion, like the tides—irresistible, transformative, and alive within us.

Consequential Reeding is the debut release on LOUDCAT MUSIC, Coflo's new solo imprint — a collector-focused outlet built entirely from his own projects, free of back-catalog expectations or A&R input.
This two-track, extended-arrangement 12" is designed to be stretched out and crush dance cyphers. The title track unfolds as a three-act story, each act led by a different earworm: a bari sax, a psychotic monophonic Moog lead, and finally a blues harp. The flip side, "Beethreezy," is a filthy, jazz-fueled B3 Hammond motif narrated by a choice vocal sample. Both tracks are built for isolator shenanigans and brave mixmasters.
All music written, produced, mixed, and mastered by Cody "Coflo" Ferreira.

Released first as three EPs, 9PM, 12AM and 3AM, each explores a different moment of the night, from the anticipation of getting ready, to the unifying energy of the dancefloor, and finally the conversations and reflections that linger long after the music stops. Together, they culminate in The Night's Not Dead, a complete body of work that celebrates nightlife as far more than a party.

After 10 years of Andy Shauf"s The Party... it"s time for the afterparty. The Party (10th Anniversary Edition) adds nine never-before-released tracks to the original studio version of this essential indie album of the last decade, including two brand new songs plus alternate cuts and demo recordings. With The Party, Shauf masterfully creates a cast of memorable and unique characters. They show up "Early to the Party," reveal secrets ("To You") or try to reveal nothing ("The Magician"). In "a city the size of a dinner plate," everyone knew the guy who keeled over after smoking what he promised would be his last pack of cigarettes ("Alexander All Alone"). There"s the girl dancing by herself in the middle of the room, with the "Eyes of Them All" upon her. One moment you"re dancing with someone who bears an uncanny resemblance to your ex ("Martha Sways") and later slagging your best friend as way of endearing yourself to his recently dumped ex ("Quite Like You"). All of this is set to ornate arrangements of fuzzed-out guitars, string sections, clarinets and dreamy synths, all draped over delicate piano, acoustic guitars and rainy-day drums.

Nach dem TETZLAFF-Comeback AUTOMATENHALLE folgt nun eine außergewöhnliche Reise mit der neuen Langspielplatte INTERKONTINENTAL!

Next up on Voyager, we have someone who needs no introduction to techno. Jeroen Search lands on Voyager under his sci-fi "Echelon" alias with a stunningly deep 8 track album, available as always on Vinyl and Digital. Jeroen has been at the pinnacle of Techno music for a number of decades and has released on countless major techno labels, As Echelon, he has released on Jeff Mills' Axis Records and also on Srie Records Argentina. On Voyager, the remit was to go experimental with nothing off limits, and it shows within this stunning album.

The sun sat high above the desert outside Joshua Tree on October 17, 2024, baking the rocks and shrubbery outside the Farrington Observatory as a small group of invited guests ventured up a steep path towards the telescope. Kyle Simon, the artist and printmaker who founded the Observatory, was standing outside the print studio sat below the towering cylindrical building, greeting friends alongside his wife Sarah and lifelong friend Brian Weitz, the musician widely known as Geologist of Animal Collective. Simon and Weitz had spent the previous day testing and retesting a system that would transform the light of the oncoming full moon captured by the gigantic telescope into a signal that would modulate the control voltage of Weitz’s modular synthesizer. As the sun dipped below the horizon line, the audience gathered on a small wooden patio surrounded by speakers while Weitz readied himself behind the array of patches and knobs. Simon addressed the group, presenting the history of The Sirens, the sonic exploration of the night sky’s mystical and scientific significance about to unfold.

The music conjured under the Hunter’s Moon that night is now documented on this first official release of The Sirens, which was conceived by Simon and Weitz as a recurring performance piece and sound installation. Over a decade ago, Simon began immersing himself in literature on humanity’s sonic relationship to the celestial realm, including Homer’s Odyssey, Plato’s “Spindle of Necessity, ” Kepler’s Harmonices Mundi, and the field of astroseismology. He fitted homemade telescopes with photodiodes and optical sensors to make the images audible, finding latent patterns in the noisy sonic signals he began receiving from the stars. With Weitz, the process expanded as the signal was routed through an analog amplifier and set to modulate the pitch, filter, and other elements of his synthesizer. Together they developed a system of improvisation, with Simon adjusting the telescope to change the intensity of the light based on its relationship with the moon’s position (imagine a theremin player moving their hands in subtle, meaningful motion), and Weitz responding to that input in real time: bending it, amplifying it, or letting it stand on its own. The duo debuted the piece at the Integretron in Joshua Tree in 2018, providing a crucial proof of concept for the performance at Farrington featured here.

The first thing the listener hears on The Sirens is the opening of Farrington Observatory, the cranking of motor and metal. As the lens of the telescope is exposed to the evening air, a wavering drone emerges from the synthesizer, flickering at the margins, the tuning of the oscillators adjusting to the rapidly cooling desert air. The piece progresses and the drone becomes a luminous, spherical constant, bathing the listener in pure tone as Weitz draws out harmonically ambiguous melodies that spiral upwards. Electronics crackle and convulse, coalescing into dense dissonance before widening out into an open octave. Just as the moon orbits the Earth and the stars shift as the planet rotates, so each sonic element appears in flux, interrelationships slowly forming and falling away. Divided into two parts, The Sirens flows as a continuous conversation between the artists and the starlight completing its thousand-year journey across the galaxy.

The Sirens belongs primarily to a lineage beyond music: of sea captains navigating by looking skyward, of astrophysicists studying the formation of the Milky Way, of the modern myths of werewolves, of the stories embedded in constellations. As Simon writes in the album’s extensive liner notes, “These stories and explorations reveal a collective yearning to become conscious of our connection to the universe, our deep-seated desire to understand how we fit into it all.” This music underscores the history of the night sky as the place where poetry and science find common ground, where exploration hinges on the imagination. Driven by curiosity and ingenuity, Weitz and Simon look up and wonder.

Proto-Jackin'-Hip-House/Punk-Funk von der ,Third Coast". Ursprünglich erschienen im Jahr 1984 auf dem für die Chicagoer Szene prägenden Mitchball-Label: Das ,Dance Party Album" von Z-Factor ist das Werk, mit dem die Kindheitsfreunde Jesse Saunders und Vince Lawrence die 909 für das Warehouse, WB MX und darüber hinaus neu erfanden. Kommen Sie wegen der spacigen, Lo-Fi-Italo-Synths, bleiben Sie wegen der mit minimalem Budget produzierten, vier-auf-den-Boden-Drum-Machine-Klänge.