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“Leviathan’s Desire” was Protector’s first release with Olly Wiebel as the new man on the microphone, and he brought in a new and different style, one no less gruff and aggressive than that of his predecessor. With the “Leviathan’s Desire” EP, Protector left the musically mid-paced path they had followed on “Urm the Mad”, turning back to their key skills and delivering a short but sweet-and-extreme thrash metal attack. The EP contains a revised and extended version of “Kain and Abel” that fits in perfectly with the new tracks, which are full to the brim with raging riffs and violent hooks, relentlessly delivered by a band that’s fully aware of its great skills and abilities both with regard to song-writing and performance – rhythm changes, breaks and bridges are all thoroughly worked out and excellently delivered. But do not fear! There are no signs of giving in to any ideas of embracing the “progressive” side of Protector. This is still pure Teutonic Thrash to the bone. “Leviathan’s Desire” was recorded in the Phoenix Studio Bochum in 1990 and originally released by German label Atom H (based in Witten, North Rhine-Westphalia) in the same year. Ralph Hubert of Mekong Delta fame took over production duties of the record. Olly is very glad to see the vinyl re-release of “Leviathan’s Desire”, which has been mastered for vinyl by old comrade Patrick W. Engel at Temple of Disharmony. Protector also opened up their dusty cabinets to present us with a selection of previously unreleased pictures from those still good old days, which will be gracing the High Roller edition of “Leviathan’s Desire”.

In spring 2025, Abul Mogard and Rafael Anton Irisarri created the source material for their second album, Where Light Pauses in the Silence of the Sun, during a three-day residency at Morphine Raum in Berlin. Functioning as both recording studio and performance venue, the space has no stage, with the audience gathered around the performers. Working within an open framework, the duo reshaped the music each evening while recording the performances live to multitrack. Rotary speakers, modular synthesizers and bowed guitar formed the core of their sonic language, captured through a 1970s mixing console and microphones placed around the room.

Back in Mogard’s studio in Rome, the material was further crafted as motifs were stretched, fragments isolated, and tempos dissolved. Irisarri recorded additional guitar textures and treatments in New York, while passages recorded by Martina Bertoni and Andrea Burelli in Berlin reinforced the harmonic centres and brought breath, refinement and a new sensibility to their compositions. The process continued as Mogard’s layering and subtraction reassembled everyone’s parts into the final arrangement.

The album opens with “In the Eastern Wild,” building from a sparse outline into a monumental formation of low-frequency weight, its internal motion shaped by the rotating Leslie speaker. “Over the Domes” widens into a broader acoustic field, where sustained modular tones meet waves of softly plucked guitar. The music then turns inward with “A Blue Descent,” centred on Bertoni’s cello, whose growling timbre introduces a melancholic depth.

At the album’s centre, “In a Quiet Radiance” unfolds around a slow guitar ostinato, its luminous stillness opening into a more expansive and reflective state. Across its ten-minute span, Burelli’s violin lines and Bertoni’s lower cello phrases gradually surface, weaving through the harmonic field. Mogard brings Burelli’s processed voice to the fore, its emotive, operatic presence becoming one of the record’s pivotal moments. “Of Blessed Ages” suspends the sonic flow, shifting between parallel major and minor chords as lingering, slowly decaying melodies shape the music’s internal drift. The closing “Among Shadows” settles into a darker resonance as layered textures recede.

Mogard and Irisarri’s shared language balances restraint and maximalism. UK magazine Crack describes the music as “a tidal wave held in suspension,” while Dutch newspaper de Volkskrant writes, “What a colossal sound, and how this music strikes at the emotions.” Reflecting on the residency sessions, Irisarri recalls: “At moments I genuinely couldn’t tell if a sound was coming from me or from Abul. It stopped feeling like two people making decisions and began to feel like we were inside a system moving on its own."

Marja de Sanctis’ cover artwork revisits the vessel sculpture from the duo’s first album, Impossibly Distant, Impossibly Close. There it appeared as raw, unfired clay. Here it has been fired in the kiln and finished with a glaze. Light gathers on its polished surface and spills into the surrounding space. As she explains, “I wanted to convey the idea of continuity within the duo, and the vessel became a kind of container for that idea. However, their music felt different this time, and with the collaboration of Martina and Andrea, I felt it should have a sleeker, softer, more glamorous look, very distant from the first raw appearance.” The transformation of the vessel from raw clay to fired form suggests a passage from immediacy toward permanence, mirroring the music’s gradual expansion.

In spring 2025, Abul Mogard and Rafael Anton Irisarri created the source material for their second album, Where Light Pauses in the Silence of the Sun, during a three-day residency at Morphine Raum in Berlin. Functioning as both recording studio and performance venue, the space has no stage, with the audience gathered around the performers. Working within an open framework, the duo reshaped the music each evening while recording the performances live to multitrack. Rotary speakers, modular synthesizers and bowed guitar formed the core of their sonic language, captured through a 1970s mixing console and microphones placed around the room.

Back in Mogard’s studio in Rome, the material was further crafted as motifs were stretched, fragments isolated, and tempos dissolved. Irisarri recorded additional guitar textures and treatments in New York, while passages recorded by Martina Bertoni and Andrea Burelli in Berlin reinforced the harmonic centres and brought breath, refinement and a new sensibility to their compositions. The process continued as Mogard’s layering and subtraction reassembled everyone’s parts into the final arrangement.

The album opens with “In the Eastern Wild,” building from a sparse outline into a monumental formation of low-frequency weight, its internal motion shaped by the rotating Leslie speaker. “Over the Domes” widens into a broader acoustic field, where sustained modular tones meet waves of softly plucked guitar. The music then turns inward with “A Blue Descent,” centred on Bertoni’s cello, whose growling timbre introduces a melancholic depth.

At the album’s centre, “In a Quiet Radiance” unfolds around a slow guitar ostinato, its luminous stillness opening into a more expansive and reflective state. Across its ten-minute span, Burelli’s violin lines and Bertoni’s lower cello phrases gradually surface, weaving through the harmonic field. Mogard brings Burelli’s processed voice to the fore, its emotive, operatic presence becoming one of the record’s pivotal moments. “Of Blessed Ages” suspends the sonic flow, shifting between parallel major and minor chords as lingering, slowly decaying melodies shape the music’s internal drift. The closing “Among Shadows” settles into a darker resonance as layered textures recede.

Mogard and Irisarri’s shared language balances restraint and maximalism. UK magazine Crack describes the music as “a tidal wave held in suspension,” while Dutch newspaper de Volkskrant writes, “What a colossal sound, and how this music strikes at the emotions.” Reflecting on the residency sessions, Irisarri recalls: “At moments I genuinely couldn’t tell if a sound was coming from me or from Abul. It stopped feeling like two people making decisions and began to feel like we were inside a system moving on its own."

Marja de Sanctis’ cover artwork revisits the vessel sculpture from the duo’s first album, Impossibly Distant, Impossibly Close. There it appeared as raw, unfired clay. Here it has been fired in the kiln and finished with a glaze. Light gathers on its polished surface and spills into the surrounding space. As she explains, “I wanted to convey the idea of continuity within the duo, and the vessel became a kind of container for that idea. However, their music felt different this time, and with the collaboration of Martina and Andrea, I felt it should have a sleeker, softer, more glamorous look, very distant from the first raw appearance.” The transformation of the vessel from raw clay to fired form suggests a passage from immediacy toward permanence, mirroring the music’s gradual expansion.

In spring 2025, Abul Mogard and Rafael Anton Irisarri created the source material for their second album, Where Light Pauses in the Silence of the Sun, during a three-day residency at Morphine Raum in Berlin. Functioning as both recording studio and performance venue, the space has no stage, with the audience gathered around the performers. Working within an open framework, the duo reshaped the music each evening while recording the performances live to multitrack. Rotary speakers, modular synthesizers and bowed guitar formed the core of their sonic language, captured through a 1970s mixing console and microphones placed around the room.

Back in Mogard’s studio in Rome, the material was further crafted as motifs were stretched, fragments isolated, and tempos dissolved. Irisarri recorded additional guitar textures and treatments in New York, while passages recorded by Martina Bertoni and Andrea Burelli in Berlin reinforced the harmonic centres and brought breath, refinement and a new sensibility to their compositions. The process continued as Mogard’s layering and subtraction reassembled everyone’s parts into the final arrangement.

The album opens with “In the Eastern Wild,” building from a sparse outline into a monumental formation of low-frequency weight, its internal motion shaped by the rotating Leslie speaker. “Over the Domes” widens into a broader acoustic field, where sustained modular tones meet waves of softly plucked guitar. The music then turns inward with “A Blue Descent,” centred on Bertoni’s cello, whose growling timbre introduces a melancholic depth.

At the album’s centre, “In a Quiet Radiance” unfolds around a slow guitar ostinato, its luminous stillness opening into a more expansive and reflective state. Across its ten-minute span, Burelli’s violin lines and Bertoni’s lower cello phrases gradually surface, weaving through the harmonic field. Mogard brings Burelli’s processed voice to the fore, its emotive, operatic presence becoming one of the record’s pivotal moments. “Of Blessed Ages” suspends the sonic flow, shifting between parallel major and minor chords as lingering, slowly decaying melodies shape the music’s internal drift. The closing “Among Shadows” settles into a darker resonance as layered textures recede.

Mogard and Irisarri’s shared language balances restraint and maximalism. UK magazine Crack describes the music as “a tidal wave held in suspension,” while Dutch newspaper de Volkskrant writes, “What a colossal sound, and how this music strikes at the emotions.” Reflecting on the residency sessions, Irisarri recalls: “At moments I genuinely couldn’t tell if a sound was coming from me or from Abul. It stopped feeling like two people making decisions and began to feel like we were inside a system moving on its own."

Marja de Sanctis’ cover artwork revisits the vessel sculpture from the duo’s first album, Impossibly Distant, Impossibly Close. There it appeared as raw, unfired clay. Here it has been fired in the kiln and finished with a glaze. Light gathers on its polished surface and spills into the surrounding space. As she explains, “I wanted to convey the idea of continuity within the duo, and the vessel became a kind of container for that idea. However, their music felt different this time, and with the collaboration of Martina and Andrea, I felt it should have a sleeker, softer, more glamorous look, very distant from the first raw appearance.” The transformation of the vessel from raw clay to fired form suggests a passage from immediacy toward permanence, mirroring the music’s gradual expansion.

In a landslide of writhing textures and hypnotic rhythm, prolific techno explorer DOLTZ. returns to DJ Nobu's Bitta imprint for an expansive album that foregrounds his skill creating living, breathing soundscapes out of pure synthesis. Since debuting in 2020, Shun Watanabe has issued a steady stream of LPs and EPs that quickly established him at the forefront of techno innovation in the Japanese scene. It was natural then for him to forge a connection with DJ Nobu's celebrated Bitta label via 2024 release Inception EP, a forthright club-focused statement to balance out his more experimental output on Muzan Editions and other labels. Elsewhere, Watanabe has also been developing a fruitful collaboration with German techno veteran Tobias Freund, resulting in two bold yet elegant albums on Dutch label Delsin. On Final Trace, the DOLTZ. sound is steered with purpose towards tactile sonic terrain where microscopic detail rewards the patient listener. He explains a core inspiration for the album was Kobo Abe's avant-garde 1960s novel Woman In The Dunes, which drew on repetition and the quiet madness of an inescapable environment. That manifests as a forbidding demeanour that courses throughout Final Trace, detectable in every slithering trail of static interference and mind-warping tonal loop. This is expertly sculpted wormhole techno of the highest calibre, delivered by an artist with the creative spark to make something visceral and thrilling out of a technically advanced approach. The power of Final Trace lies in the subtlety of its progression as a seemingly incessant refrain slowly morphs before your ears, but this is far from a static album. From the mesmerising throb and thrilling crescendo of 'Faz' to the sprightly ripples and pulses darting across 'Resonance', there is a constant sense of movement and the bright-eyed wonder of new ground being broken at every turn. It's the perfect summation of everything exciting about Watanabe's rich expression as DOLTZ. -- stunning sonics driven by brilliant ideas.

SEKTION's debut full-length DRUCK marks the first official collaboration between AtomTM & Siegmar Fricke, a connection rooted in 1992. Released by Geometrik Records, the label of industrial legend Esplendor Geométrico, in collaboration with Munster Records. Across thirteen interconnected tracks, DRUCK builds a stereo-enlarged environment shaped by metallic textures, rhythmic granulations and slow-moving structural shifts. Drawn from the compositional frameworks VOKOSTASIS, DIGITRAKTION, LEERZEICHEN, and UNWUCHT, the album unfolds as a continuum of mechano-sonic morphing. Fragments of frequency-altered voices emerge like damaged transmissions, woven into grain sliced rhythms, microsound detail, and layers of rusty tape noise and electro-acoustic particles. Tension and friction gradually push the material toward fragmentation without collapse. A formidable and immersive act of sonic engineering. German musician AtomTM (Uwe Schmidt) is one of the most imaginative and prolific talents in the global electronic music scene in recent decades. Since 1988, he has released music on cult labels such as Raster-Noton, Sähko, Mille Plateaux, Rough Trade, Rephlex, Fax, and his own label, Rather Interesting, under countless aliases. As producer, remixer and collaborator he has worked with and for musicians such as Ryuichi Sakamoto, Yellow Magic Orchestra, Depeche Mode, Towa Tei, Merzbow, Bill Laswell, Esplendor Geométrico, just to name a few. Uwe has developed an innovative, unconventional and highly personal musical vision, interpreting a wide variety of genres and styles in his own unique way, such as experimental music, techno, acid, EBM, electrolatino, ambient or industrial music, amongst others. Siegmar Fricke is a German artist starting with experiments involving short-waves and acoustic noises in the field between musique concrete and post-industrial around 1981. Ha became a very active player in the worldwide cassette culture movement. He ran his own label Bestattungsinstitut and published loads of releases ranging from experimental to ebm, electro, to ambient spread all over the world's tape labels from 1985 to 1993. Since 2001, Fricke has operated primarily under the alias Pharmakustik. His collaborations included notable ones with legends of electronic and industrial music such as Conrad Schnitzler and Mauricio Bianchi.

For nearly four decades, since its founding during the mid 1980s, the Belgian imprint, Sub Rosa, has continuously plumbed the depths of numerous, radical creative histories, assembling a catalog of releases that has almost no equivalent, while remaining nearly impossible to nail down. That said, for most of its run, Sub Rosa has been primarily recognized for its rigorous explorations of the lesser explored shadows of experimental sound practice (sound-art, sound-poetry, early electronic and electroacoustic music, free-improvisation, etc.), delivering a remarkable body of artifacts that have collectively helped to rewrite history in their wake. While it's always been impossible to anticipate where the label might take us next, threading their catalog are plenty of releases that throw further wrenches in the cogs, expanding our understanding of what they pursue, as in the case of a handful of titles, appearing as early as the 1980s, dedicated to ethnographic field-recordings from various parts of the world. Among the most striking and celebrated of these was 2017's Ethiopian Urban And Tribal Music: Mindanoo Mistiru / Gold From Wax, comprising an astounding body of recordings made by Ragnar Johnson and Ralph Harrisson in Ethiopia during 1971, reissuing material originally released by Lyrichord the following year. Now, Sub Rosa returns to the incredible work embarked upon by the pair and captured on that same trip with Ethiopian Musics 1971, comprising the recordings originally released by Ocora shortly after their completion, expanded in this edition to include an entire disc of never before released music. Widely regarded as some of the most important field-recordings ever made of indigenous Ethiopian folk music (as captivating and intoxicating as they are revelatory: providing insights into the roots of the country's singular traditions of popular music and jazz that have come to be celebrated the world over), this incredible collection is issued by Sub Rosa in a beautifully produced 2LP edition, complemented by a four page insert providing detailed descriptions of each song, as well as notes by the ethnomusicologists and recordists, as well as a 2CD edition, with a twelve page booklet. Insanely good and absolutely essential for any fan of field-recording, ethnomusicology, the music of Ethiopia, or the label's mission at large. Once again, Sub Rosa has defied our expectations and delivered a remarkably important intervention in the history of recorded sound.

Located in the Horn of Africa region of East Africa, few cultures are distinctly singular, while being so diverse (containing 80 distinct ethnic groups who speak 70 languages and 200 dialects) as that of Ethiopia. The home to some of the oldest surviving sects of Judaism, Christianity, and Islam (each contributing important aspects of its collective cultural body), particularly the country's culinary and musical traditions have become celebrated the world over, and (generally speaking) feel entirely independent of those of its neighbors. Given this, it's unsurprising that, during the summer of 1971, the young ethnographer, Ragnar Johnson, accompanied by Ralph Harrisson, traveled to Ethiopia to begin his brief career as a field recording ethnomusicologist, capturing material on reels of magnetic tape that would be subsequently released across three LPs for Lyrichord and Ocora, respectively, coming to form a cornerstone of documentation and study of the country's many indigenous musical traditions, as well as providing wide, global access to them for the first time. While Johnson's recording career was relatively brief, ending toward the end of the decade when he began to focus more on teaching in UK universities, with a focus on the anthropology of art and social anthropology, his impact on the field was lasting. Between 1971 and 1979, in addition to those he made in Ethiopia, he made hugely significant recordings in Yemen (also issued by Lyrichord before being reissued by Sub Rosa) and Papua New Guinea, which were originally released by David Toop's Quartz Publications to wide celebration, before being revisited by Ideologic Organ in 2023.

While it's worth noting that commercial releases of ethnomusicological recordings by labels like Folkways, Lyrichord, and Ocora were still in their relatively early days when he entered the field, Johnson's recordings quickly stood apart for their vivid qualities and clarity of space, allowing them to stand the test of time. As he later stated: "I used a Uher Report L stereo tape recorder, BASF quarter inch tapes at a recording speed of seven and a half inches per second with two directional microphones mounted to record an isosceles triangle of stereo sound," he reveals. "The location of the microphones and musicians was critical. The musicians were fully informed of all aspects of the recording process."

Johnson's recordings are extremely vivid, there is a clear sense of space and the cries of the flutes exist across the entire stereo field. It's a reflection of Johnson's skill as a field recordist that his recordings continue to be reissued over forty years later. "I used a Uher Report L stereo tape recorder, BASF quarter inch tapes at a recording speed of seven and a half inches per second with two directional microphones mounted to record an isosceles triangle of stereo sound," he reveals. "The location of the microphones and musicians was critical. The musicians were fully informed of all aspects of the recording process… I used to enjoy being in the moment and hearing something wonderful despite the stress of the vigilance required to ensure that the recordings were accomplished according to plan. The responsibility is to record and document the music as effectively as possible so that it has been preserved for posterity. It is better to actually record music than to sit in a seminar room debating the ethics of recording music." It is this very ethos and sense of clarity that can be encountered across the length of Ethiopian Musics 1971.

For the sake of clarity, the two LPs of material that comprise Ethiopian Musics 1971 should be regarded as a single body of recordings alongside those made in Ethiopia by Ragnar Johnson and Ralph Harrisson during the summer of 1971 (previously issued by Lyrichord and reissued by Sub Rosa), and as two that have, until now, remained historically distinct. The first LP gathers that material released by Ocora during the early 1970s on Musiques Ethiopiennes, while the second comprises (as far as we can tell) twelve never before issued recordings, expanding the journey and making this the definitive edition of the release with its incredible total of 23 recordings of songs, allowing it ever greater scope to achieve the recordists' modus operandi of capturing the broadest and most diverse cross section of Ethiopia's many musical cultures, ranging from different forms of urban music captured in Addis Ababa, documenting largely orally transmitted idioms within which lyrical content is given greater emphasis than the instrumental components (played on masenko fiddles, craar and bagana lyres, washint flutes and kabaro drums), to folk idioms hailing from the Danakil desert and the border regions with Sudan and Kenya. There are songs sung and played in bars, divination chants, laments, dances, Christian songs, and Amharic sung poetry, to only begin to scratch the surface.

Ethiopian Musics 1971 is one of those rare albums where each musical moment is pure, intoxicating gold, while also being greater through the sum of its parts. There are the many songs, forming a rich tapestry of remarkable range across the respective two LPs/CDs (moments that wondrously flirt with sonic abstraction; hypnotic rhythms; pulsing chant; melodies that, in structural arrangement and tonal combination, help us reframe how such a thing might be understood, and a great deal more), each imbued with a remarkable directness and emotive sensibility, and there is the stunning quality of these recordings themselves, transporting each sound to our ears as though we intimately share its creator's space, while being imbued with the pure heart and remarkable spirit with which they were made. As we said before, it's little wonder, once heard, why these recordings and this music feels as fresh and relevant (enduring more than 50 years) today as when they were made. Once again, Sub Rosa has raised the bar with this essential addition to the incredible work that Ragnar Johnson and Ralph Harrisson did back in Ethiopia during 1971, radically expanding our access to the sounds that they captured with these stunning, beautifully produced 2LP and 2CD editions. Absolutely engrossing from the first sounding to the last, this one can't be missed.

Random Color ReVINYL Edition. Never has a Songs: Ohia album's process been so integral to its overall feel as is the case with DIDN'T IT RAIN, the band's sixth proper full-length. The album, like the working class South Philadelphia neighborhood in which it was birthed, has a real used goods kinda feel to it. Engineer Edan Cohen employed what some may consider "old-fashioned" recording techniques -- the entire album was recorded live with no overdubs, the full band playing in one room with the players always within arms' reach of one another; singers Jason Molina, Jennie Benford and Jim Krewson (the latter two of Jim & Jennie And The Pinetops) sharing microphones singing live together, sometimes sitting in chairs, sometimes standing. The result is a sound which resembles the warmth and personality of the classic Muscle Shoals Sound recordings of the early- to mid-70s: Willie Nelson's PHASES & STAGES, the Rolling Stones' "Wild Horses", and others by Aretha Franklin, Boz Scaggs, Bob Seger, Lynyrd Skynyrd and Wilson Pickett.Inspired by the Mahalia Jackson song of the same name, the title track is a beautiful song about the shifting tides of life and the old cycle of "a lot of shit going down before shit clears up". It's a damn fine place to start an album that seems in no hurry whatsoever to make a universal statement, instead perfectly content to walk its own path toward resolution. And damn if Songs: Ohia principal songwriter Jason Molina hasn't gone and created a record that is even more intensely personal and healing than any of his previous works. Neil Young had his AFTER THE GOLDRUSH, this is Molina's DIDN'T IT RAIN. Indeed, this is the album with which Molina really leaves his mark as a serious songwriter and artist. On 1999's genre-bending Ghost Tropic full-length, Songs: Ohia made it clear that it could make a cohesive album that took its listener on a journey from front to back. Its dislocated feel set a haunting tone, and its largely instrumental and drone-like quality was the process of the Ohia eluding itself and its own tendencies, searching for the underside of its roots freshly yanked. With DIDN'T IT RAIN, Molina & Co. return to the beauty of the song form and offer up a startlingly soulful and introspective song cycle in which Molina -- accepting a comfortable degree of anonymity amongst the other players -- meditates on what it means to feel rooted again (in the city of Chicago, where he's called home for the past three years), sounding more sturdy at his core than ever.

Gradual Isolation started in the early 90s as the musical project of 2 friends, Luc Van Den Bosch and Filip Van Breda, both living in Turnhout, Belgium.

They were inspired by EBM and new wave from the 80s and 90s and saw bands such as the Canadian Psyche as their great examples. With just a few synthesizers, a drum machine and a homemade microphone, they made music that could be described as emotional, and somewhat naive bedroom new wave. If the term emo-wave doesn't exist yet, it should be invented to describe Gradual Isolation's music.

Over the years, many tapes have been filled with their improvisations and about 20 to 30 songs have been more or less completed. They never officially released their music, only a handful of handmade cassette tapes were distributed to friends. They did not go further than a single performance in the local new wave bar ‘The Cave’ in Turnhout in 1991, but the duo stayed together and continues to make music to this day.

‘The Sky Converts’ and ‘Agony By Men’ appeared on Underground Wave Volume 7, and now, for the first time, a full-length LP ‘Remaining Faces’ has been released on Walhalla Records!

METLASR is an album for microtonal idiophones and modular synthesizer by composer/producer Tyler Friedman for Radicant_Editions.

Drawing on the legacies of downtown minimalism, METLASR connects avant-garde composition, aspects of global traditional musics and advanced synthesizer technique into an ambitious and singular hybrid. Animated by generative modular sequencing and grounded by undulating bass, the album focuses on an endless cascade of pirouetting geometric melodics, which are spread across a spectrally fused ensemble of crystalline FM and sampled pitched percussion – specifically gamelan orchestra, marimba, mbira, vibraphone and tingklik. The assemblage of voices interlace in fractal mirrors, aggregating into pointillist harmonizations heightened by multiple layers of dub processing. The use of alternative tunings — primarily 24-note per octave just intonation — infuses the poly-modal progressions with lush radiance, staging tension between the strange and the beautiful through neon inflections of subtle dissonance.

Entirely improvised, a fact belied by the contrapuntal complexity of it all, METLASR’s seven tracks were each recorded in a single pass and subject to minimal edits. Although the sound palette and...

Peerless man-machine outfit goat(jp) return with a brittle contemporary dance soundtrack that locks into the pointillist rhythmic micro-precision of the now classic "Joy In Fear". Directing an IRL physical performance, the band totter between rhythmelodic, ritualistic minimalism and intricate, pneumatic beat music - if you need a link between Daniel Schmidt, Autechre, "On The Corner"-era Miles and Midori Takada, this is it.

The mighty Channel One Studios,Kingston, Jamaica, has its place set in Reggae's Musical History.Its distinctive sound the studio created on opening its doors in 1972 to its closure in the early 1980's made it the Producers, Singers and Musicians studio of choice during this furtive period. Achieving that vibe and clarity, separated it from the other Kingston establishments.

Run by the Hookim Family's four sons, Jo Jo the eldest followed by Paulie, Ernest and Kenneth. Their father originally came from China and married a Chinese Jamaican lady and settled in the St Andrews district before moving to Kingston Town itself. The family business was built on jukeboxes and one armed bandit machines in and around Kingston. A lucrative venture until the gaming laws changed in 1970, outlawing the gaming machines. So the music side of the business would have to be expanded. So it was decided to open a studio to make the music to supply their already established Jukebox enterprise. The four brothers opened Channel One Recording Studios in 1972 at 29 Maxfield Avenue, Kingston 13. Initially as we stated the purpose of the studio was for the brothers use only, but this would soon change when the various Producers all looking for that Channel One sound came asking for studio time.

The brothers had used the services of Bill Garnet a renowned and well respected technical engineer on setting up the studio. They spent a lot of time laying out the space to get the right acoustics and picking the right quipment. They went with a four track API desk and the best quality microphones such as Neuman, Sony and AKG, vital in obtaining the quality sound and track separation that would prove so worthwhile after the music was recorded to give the best flexibility on the final mix downs. Jo Jo would take over the production duties after the initial hiring of Syd Bucknor a producer who had worked closely with Coxonne Dodds Studio 1 stable. The first release on the Channel One label would be 'Don't Give Up The Fight' by Stranger Cole and Gladstone 'Gladdy' Anderson.The initial two thousand run being swallowed up by their Jukebox interests and so the steady flow of hits would run up to the brake through hit of 1975 'Right Time' by  the Mighty Diamonds.

1977 saw Jo Jo extending his stays in New York to a semipermanent status, returning mainly to oversee recording sessions and then taking the results back to America for worldwide distribution. His brother Paulies senseless killing in that year also added to Jo Jo's decision to spend more time with his Hit Bound Manufacturing set up in New York. The Channel One studio would be upgraded in 1979 to sixteen tracks and although Jo Jo and Ernest still covered the mixing and engineering duties Kenneth would now supervise sessions. An often untold part of Channel Ones history is the involvement of Producer Niney The Observer. The mid to late 1970's were heavy times both musically and politically and Maxfield Avenue was in the heart of this crossfire. Some artists and musicians were weary of using the establishment especially when sessions ended late at night and exiting the studio at these times could be somewhat dangerous. But Niney’s fearlessness seen him over running and in many cases running the all night sessions with his trusted set of musicians loosely called The Soul Syndicate. Having the run of the mighty Channel One studio's allowed Niney to build up and work on a stockpile of rhythms that he still has yet to unleash on the world. We have been lucky to select a bunch of material from Niney's vaults for this release. Some great unreleased rhythms and some different cuts to some tracks you might already know. Niney's work with Dennis Brown and his own distinctive heavy roots style productions have been documented and indeed his work on Channel Ones Yellowman releases stand tall also. We hope this fine set of Niney Productions set inside the hollowed walls of Channel One will sit beside them as they so richly deserve.

Nobody knew. Not the crowd packed into Circolo Kessel that Sunday evening, not even the six musicians on stage. When Giardini di Mirò played on March 19, 2023, it was supposed to be just another homecoming show in Cavriago, the kind of night where you play for the people who’ve known you longest. Some were missing from the audience, though: “Our closest friends stayed home to watch the football match tonight,” Jukka quipped from the stage. “But that’s fine, we’ll deal with them tomorrow.” In hindsight, even Juventus fans who celebrated their 1–0 victory over Inter made the wrong choice.

Seventy minutes in, all the instruments converged into a one-chord riff, driven by the drums and punctuated by screaming guitars. A repetitive rhythm that paired brutal volume with hypnotic precision. Even those at the back of the room felt it: that trance-like state where sound becomes physical. Then the wall of sound collapsed. Guitar feedback lingered in the air for a few seconds before fading into nothing.

This was the last sound Giardini di Mirò made. They haven’t played since, and there are no plans to do so again. But in that moment, nobody knew.

The closing song that night was also the opener of their debut full-length, recorded more than two decades earlier. Its title, A New Start, carries an unintended irony the band would likely appreciate. It is also oddly fitting that their final show took place in the same building where they began. Circolo Kessel, previously known as Calamita, served as the band’s rehearsal space for many years. Yet since their rise to becoming one of Europe’s defining post-rock acts, they had never performed a concert there.

In a fortunate coincidence, Markus Mathis – a longtime fan who had recorded several of their shows before – also captured this final concert using two room microphones and a feed from the mixing desk.

Quasi Casa is the complete, unfiltered document of that night: an “official bootleg” spanning over 70 minutes of purely instrumental music, drawing on material from across their entire career, from the earliest releases to Del Tutto Illusorio. It captures, with striking clarity, the intensity that defined the band’s live performances.

Rather than simply uploading the recording and calling it a day, the band chose to assemble a physical release as a parting gift to their fans. The double LP includes a 16-page booklet with extensive liner notes and visual material.

"Chance animates the smallest parts of the universe: the scintillation of the stars is its power, a wildflower its incantation."
—Georges Bataille, Le Petit

"Even on my way to the gambling hall, as soon as I hear, two rooms away, the clink of the scattered money I almost go into convulsions." —Fyodor Dostoevsky, The Gambler

Video gambling addicts, academic researchers, and industry professionals alike describe the trancelike state into which problem gamblers suspend themselves with remarkable consistency: they unanimously call it the machine “zone,” a kind of inner experience during which the rhythmic flow of human-machine collusion borders on mysticism. Time is abolished in the act of contemporary video gambling —simulated slot reels roll, virtual poker decks deal, and all worldly concerns are lost—leaving only the aura of total zone immersion in its wake. Sometimes characterized as the crack cocaine of gambling, the intensity of the machine zone is a symptom of casino ergonomics: emotionally manipulative fragrance-saturation, mesmerizing lights, subtly controlling walkways and, as captured here, meticulously engineered sonic environments all play a role in evoking the timeless void of the zone.

Although I was not yet aware of the extent to which casinos tailor their environments for maximum comfort (and, correspondingly, profit), I did know as I crossed the threshold of my first casino floor last year that I would be back for more. Hit by a cornucopia of slot machine tones, triggering aleatorically and coalescing into shimmering masses, I was struck by the need to return and record the sounds that so entranced me. It wouldn't prove to be easy—casino security is intense—and due to the clandestine nature of the operation, my recording techniques were by no means sophisticated. Equipped with nothing but an Olympus LS-11 recorder's internal microphone stashed in a sweaty coat pocket, I allowed the lure of the zone to guide me through a series of ambling recording sessions, the best of which are included here.

I learned a lot about casino sonics in the process: game designers, for example, once tuned all their machines to the key of C major in order to optimize harmonic cohesion (strict adherence to the key is no more but C still dominates the game floor); one team of designers, the story goes, even spent a month perfecting a single 'ding' sound on one machine. In the interest of preserving the true ambient sounds of the casino these recordings are untreated, but lost in the sea of chance I did exert some affirmative control by means of meandering intent and my actual playing of the machines. And by participating in the games myself I got a taste of the financially debilitating consequences that accompany the enchantment of video gambling. The cassette in your hands represents my endeavor to bring you the zone experience without the harsh comedown of its unfortunate reality.

—Adrian Rew

Cinna Peyghamy unveils new album fusing Persian tombak and modular synthesis Five years in the making, "Music For Tombak & Synth" bridges heritage, technology, and personal identity. The project, initiated in 2019 during Peyghamy's master's thesis research on contact microphones, was conceived as a means to reconnect with his Persian roots while exploringexperimental sound design. In the album, Peyghamy seamlessly blends the traditional Persian tombak with modular synthesis and digital signal processing, creating a distinctive musical landscape that bridges live improvisation and studio production. The album’s genesis traces back to Peyghamy’s exploration of improvised electronic music and his desire to craft a performance-ready setup. Over
several years, the project evolved from capturing the energy of his live shows into a fully composed studio work.

"Music For Tombak & Synth" stands as the first record where Peyghamy unites his dual identities as a live performer and producer, resulting in a body of work that reflects his deep connection to family, memory, and cultural heritage. The album features personal elements such as his father’s voice reciting the poetry of Ahmad Shamlo on the track Dar Shab ,?? ??collaborations with long-time friend Quelque Bourdon on clarinet, and the evocative sounds of the Persian setar, all anchored by the physicality and rhythms of the tombak. A sentiment further reflected in the album cover; a photograph taken by his father, Khosrow ‘Payram’ Peyghamy, picturing both his parents and grandparents.

With this release, Peyghamy moves beyond conventional boundaries of "traditional versus contemporary" or "acoustic versus electronic," instead offering a nuanced exploration of identity through sound. Each track serves as a keepsake, referencing cherished memories, emotions, and musical influences that define his experience as a French-born artist of Iranian descent, unable to visit his home country. "Music For Tombak & Synth" invites listeners to engage with a deeply personal narrative, rooted in both cultural history and sonic innovation.

‘Richness of tone; precision of articulation; ingenuity of timbre that, when Akinmusire pursues microtonal avenues, creates the sense that particular sounds are almost hermetically sealed before being slowly squeezed and pinched into the air. In other words there is a high degree of technical mastery, but, tellingly, it underpins a profound and often engrossing sense of narrative.’ - Jazzwise

‘Halvorson has formulated a guitar style with few precedents. One inspiration might be the painter George Seurat, whose Impressionist paintings of a hundred isolated dots cohere into a picture if one steps back from the canvas. Halvorson’s pointillist approach to the guitar works much the same way.’ - JazzTimes

Slo-Mo Neon Luminate Hoverings, the new album by trumpeter/composer Ambrose Akinmusire and guitarist/composer Mary Halvorson, features four new compositions by each musician as well as one collaboration. The duo, long admirers of each other’s musicianship, met at Halvorson’s Brooklyn apartment and began playing together periodically, going back as far as 2009. They rehearsed the music on Slo-Mo Neon Luminate Hoverings in January 2025, just before performing it at the New York City club The Stone; they recorded this album the next day at Sear Sound.

Akinmusire and Halvorson made two previous attempts at recording an album but felt that they got it right with this third session. Halvorson says of their rapport, which developed over those years of friendship and collaboration, “I think it’s partly a shared aesthetic and an ease of communication. I feel comfortable to try whatever.” Akinmusire concurs, “I think it’s rare to find an improviser that all goes and nothing has to go at all. It’s rare to feel like you don’t have to do anything and you can do anything. And that’s what I love about playing with Mary.”

Though Halvorson regularly uses effects pedals on her guitar, Akinmusire’s use of one on Slo-Mo Neon Luminate Hoverings is new. Having recently gotten an updated model of the Line 6, Halvorson was passing her old ones along to friends. “Ambrose was interested in trying a Line Six. I gave him one five minutes before the rehearsal and was amazed how quickly he was able to do incredible shit on it ... in literally five minutes,” she says.

“But I’ve been watching you, I’ve been watching Bill Frisell and other people use it for a long time,” Akinmusire says. “I approached it as if it were its own musician. I played and it would process the sound and then I would choose to react to that or not. The people like Mary that I love to listen to who use delay, I like being able to hear the process of the texture that’s being built. With some people, when they use it, you don’t really hear it. But with Mary, she’ll play a line and then she’ll react to that line and then react to that,” he continues. “It’s really cool to hear how something is being built. So I kind of stole that.”

Halvorson says, “I’ve never seen someone pick up a pedal and then immediately do something with it that felt like, ‘Oh, this is a sound,’ as opposed to just tinkering, you know? It felt like he was making music on it right away, and then also doing things that surprised me, like the vocalizing really surprised me. I wasn’t expecting that, and it was awesome.”

This is hypnotic music in the purest sense: elegant, fluid, and deeply immersive, built on patience, precision, and a rare understanding of tension. Rather than forcing impact, the EP unfolds with quiet authority, drawing the listener deeper with every cycle and every subtle shift. Romanian producer Barac has long been regarded as one of the key figures in the country’s minimal and microhouse continuum, known for his hypnotic, deeply detailed sound and for shaping a distinctive artistic identity around rhythm, space, and subtle emotional tension. What makes this release so special is its balance of restraint and depth. The grooves are understated but powerful, the atmospheres weightless yet emotionally charged, and the overall flow simply brilliant. It is exactly the kind of record that shows why Barac remains such an important name in contemporary minimal and deep club music: few artists can create this level of hypnosis with such finesse. Look at the cross is a genius release, sophisticated, timeless, and absolutely captivating from start to finish.

Moondata’s little-known sole single, 1984’s decidedly Balearic, jazz-funk/boogie fusion gem ‘Let The Moonshine In’, is a very important record to the Rotation Sound System crew. It has become a familiar favourite at their annual Rotation Garden Party micro-festival and formed the centrepiece of their first compilation, summer 2025’s superb Everything You’re About To Hear Is True Volume 1. It’s increasingly rare these days for an artist from the 80s to still have their master tapes but even rarer still for them to have the multitrack tapes too. This is something of the holy grail when it comes to licensing old music so when it happens the opportunity to remix and create new versions needs to be grabbed with both hands.

The original record, a genuine rarity beloved of synth-loving crate-diggers, had an unusual gestation. Originally recorded in demo form by musician Jean-Marie Gogniat, it was turned into a finished single by a group of German musicians with a little help from lyricist and vocalist Joe Mwenda, and a crew of backing vocalists whose number included a locally based American singer – a pre-fame Jennifer Rush. Fittingly, the pre-vocal instrumental mix, which has sat unreleased since 1984, is included as a bonus track on the digital edition of this new remix package. The Rotation Sound System crew’s mixes, headed up by long-serving producer Dean Meredith, sprinkle 21st century magic across Gogniat’s one-off masterpiece while retaining core elements of the original and offering nods aplenty to club-focused sounds of the 1980s. They are, in effect, the versions the track deserved – but never got – back in the mid 1980s.

To begin, Meredith reunites with long-time production partner Andrew Meecham for the pair’s first remix as Chicken Lips in three years – a typically sparse and spaced-out ‘Malfunction Dub’ with delay-laden synths, vocals and guitar snippets sit over a sparse post-electro beat and bass guitar. Meredith then joins forces with fellow Rotation Sound System member Ben Shenton for takes under their two bestknown aliases. First, they don the T-Kutt guise for some dubbed out, funky bass guitar-propelled boogie-meets-proto house action that rocks out a killer, Clavinet-expanded groove while spinning in talkbox and backing vocals.

The pair then re-emerge as Mind Fair, famed for their releases on Golf Channel Recordings and their own Rogue Cat Sounds, and deliver a warmer, deeper and more organic-sounding take that’s as languid and tactile as it is warm and saucereyed. To round off the vinyl version of the EP, Rotation Sound System’s other core members – Rob J, Rich Hall and Stuart Robinson – don the now-familiar Wrekin Havoc guise and re-invent the track as a raw, analogue-rich shuffle through 1980s electro – all squelchy synth-bass, stabbing, cut-up vocal samples, chiming synth melodies and echoing beats. The expanded digital download edition of the EP contains a trio of additional bonus rubs. Alongside instrumental versions of the T-Kutt and Mind Fair mixes, we also get a full vocal T-Kutt rework that adds back in Joe Mwenda’s beautifully delivered verses. These additional DJ tools round off a beautifully rendered set of re-imaginations of a genuine cult classic. Gogniat, the man who started it all way back in the summer of 1984, certainly approves.

The new recordings from The Dengie Hundred unfurl on Tain Records after a busy year releasing a solo tape on Sagome and a collaborative LP and tape with Japan Blues on Demdike Stare's DDS imprint.

Lammas Land is an album which meditates on the Walthamstow Marshes, an ever-changing watery landscape, rich with history and wildlife. The Dengie Hundred writes:

"I am sitting at my table overlooking the marshes listening to Lammas Land in November 2023, watching crows fight a never-ending aerial battle with the gulls. In summer, you can see bats from here every evening, fluttering around the windows as the light begins to fade, but today it is colder so there is smoke rising from the boats on the River Lea and the dog walkers are wrapped up tight against the wind.
Most of Lammas Land was made sitting right here, playing guitar and recording the sounds passing by. I would hang a microphone out of the window to capture the ‘putput’ boat which delivers provisions, or the trains that rattle along the tracks that cut across the marshes and up to Stanstead, carrying passengers to the airport and away.
I wonder what tourists make of the marshes as they cross them, the landscape opening up for a moment between the urban sprawl of the East End and the rampant development of Tottenham. They offer a jarring pause of green and sky. I feel very lucky to be living in that pause, a resident, for now…

The album contains a whole year of found sounds recorded from the window and while out walking. It is full of bird song and radio sounds, singing, life.

Many others have been inspired by this space, this pause. The author Esther Kinsky who wrote River, published by Fitzcarraldo Editions, captures this area so perfectly. I borrowed the two track names for this album from her book. I hope she doesn’t mind.

Also, the photographer Paul Fuller whose work reflects the atmosphere I feel here precisely. On hearing the music he wanted to collaborate on the Lammas Land project, He spent a year filming the marsh through the seasons. Some of his images are included with the vinyl release, and there is an accompanying film close to completion. I am so pleased this project is continuing in new forms.

The vinyl also contains a piece of writing, ‘Sound Fishing’, by Gemma Blackshaw, an author, art historian and curator who in a twist of fate also found herself spending time on the marshes, but that is her story, for another day."




The Dengie Hundred
Lammas Land
LP, with essay insert + five photographic prints
Cat No: TAIN02
Price: £14.49
Due next week

A: A hand full of ever thickening twilight
(Sample clips 1 / 2 / 3)

B: A string of pearls pulling
the night away
(Sample clips 1 / 2 / 3)

Filmmaking and music-making share a common element of worldbuilding. Whole cloth, environments are raised in which a perspective can be placed; the viewer, the listener, is taken on a ride into the unknown for a time. Movie, the newest album by DMV-based duo Lifted, is like a film shot with microphones rather than cameras, using the pacing, spatialization, and semiotics of cinematic sound design to lead us through a surreal soundworld that draws as much from Foley artistry as dub, jazz, and electronic music. Musical elements and field recordings shift in and out of focus, collaged in spontaneous improvisation sessions on CDJs by the core duo of Andrew Field-Pickering (Max D, Dolo Percussion, Beautiful Swimmers) and Matt Papich (Co La, Ecstatic Sunshine). We may not see where we are, but our ears give us all the information we need.

We open on a pedal steel, played by More Eaze, but it’s been warped and slowed, gradually pitching upward until it's met by drums and electronics. Imagine the THX logo emerging onscreen. Movie is bookended by two related themes, “The Ice Chewers (Opening Credits), ” and “Midnight Snack (End Credits), ” giving the spatial experiments at the heart of the record form and focus. If there’s a broader narrative to latch onto, it’s in the transition moments, the juxtaposition of various field recordings that indicate movement of characters through space and life happening at its own pace. Tracks are defined by other thematic elements: a wandering piano in "Repossessed, " the drone of Duncan Moore’s bagpipe on “Melts Very Nasty, ” the delicate dance of Dustin Wong’s guitar over Jeremy Hyman’s drums on “Midnight Snack. ” Even with such an expansive ensemble cast, the focus remains squarely on the flow from one scene to the next.

Robert Altman’s use of sonic perspective shifting, as well as Apichatpong Weerasethakul’s intricate construction of environmental ambience and aural representations of the unknown, were both inspirational for Lifted’s focus on sound as a way to establish set and setting in film. We hear Altman especially in the way dialogue emerges and recedes: as Papich puts in a sandwich order, as Field-Pickering browses the grocery store. These techniques have been a part of the duo’s arsenal in Lifted and their own projects for years, but here, without the mandate to make something overtly musical, they are foregrounded and placed in crisp focus. Here is another way to listen to the world, to understand how time, place, and personality are communicated through sound as Lifted closes the gap between artforms. What you can’t see only drives the imagination to more brilliantly invent.

Bolka is known as the man with the cap. His cap has lived through a lot: his glitchy and microtonal experiments, studies at Institute of Sonology in The Hague or through countless performative works. A few years ago, Bolka’s cap fell apart. By that time he was already a fixture on the slovak experimental scene, but only releasing his debut album, “smutné stropy.” He started wearing new caps from then: somehow reminiscent of the old one, but much more varied — same as “smutné stropy,” bubbling with motifs, charming humour and pop sensitivity layered over detailed soundscapes popping with surprises.

On schwarzkopf, Bolka returns wishing for a thick black hair. With his charming love songs, that are positioned somewhere between a tightly run freak folk orchestra, deconstructed ballads and colorful ecstatic melancholy, he creates an album that thrives on juxtapositions that are completely unique, yet strangely familiar. Bolka’s songwriting is at once tender and irreverent — lovestruck whispering suddenly tripping over absurdist jokes and surreal images that fizz like soda. His songs move in that strange space between vulnerability and mischief, where intimate confessions collide with radical playfulness and the poetic rubs shoulders with the delightfully ridiculous.

On schwarzkopf, Bolka expands his world with a wide circle of collaborators and an even richer sonic palette. The album is meticulously detailed yet carefree: delicate moments sit next to sudden explosions, drifting from gentle pop to bursts of noise. Toward the end, the album even slips into a footwork-infused remix by Kodiki, passes through Julek ploski’s signature neon-baroque string perspective, and briefly wanders into Lénok’s cinematic sonic world. Bolka sings that he wants to dissolve into a healing ointment, to be ground in a mortar with calendula — and he invites us into this musical spa with him: a place that stings a little but ultimately soothes, a gorgeous soundscape that is both painful and joyful at the same time.

In 1979, the Soviet label Melodiya released a record that immediately stood apart from most Soviet jazz of its time and perhaps for that very reason never became widely known. Oriental Suite by Oleg Gotskosik Quintet is a rare example of jazz, Eastern musical tradition, and compositional thinking coming together not as an exotic stylization but as a fully formed artistic statement.

This is not “Oriental colour” used as decoration, nor folklore treated as an ornament. Oriental Suite grows from within another musical tradition, with its monody, modal logic, slow unfolding of form, and focus on inner states rather than outward effect. The music is calm and concentrated. It does not try to impress, but gradually draws the listener into its own space.
Oleg Gotskozik was born in Tashkent in 1951, a city where Eastern music was part of everyday life rather than something distant or exotic. That may explain why his engagement with traditional material sounds so natural. He does not quote or stylize; he thinks in the same musical categories. By temperament, he was closer to a composer than to a jazz musician in the conventional sense. For him, jazz was not a style but a way of working with form and improvisation.There is no standard “theme and solos” logic in Oriental Suite. Improvisation is woven into the fabric of the music itself and unfolds in the same way as in oral traditions, gradually, with rising tension and a clear sense of arrival. Individual sections refer to traditional Uzbek genres such as lullabies, lyrical songs, and funeral laments, but these are not genre sketches. They are states of being. The music unfolds slowly, avoiding familiar harmonic drama and relying instead on modal scales and subtle internal movement.

A special role is played by trumpeter Yuri Parfyonov. His approach, with delayed vibrato, micro-glissandi, and melismatic phrasing, sounded unexpected at the end of the 1970s and still feels remarkably fresh today. This is not expressive jazz virtuosity but a focused, almost meditative voice, where improvisation becomes a form of inner speech.
It is also important to note that the original recording was not without technical flaws. Like many Soviet jazz releases of the time, Oriental Suite was captured under far from ideal conditions, and the master contained audible imperfections that were never part of the music itself. For this edition, the restoration was approached with great care and respect, working through the recording moment by moment to remove unwanted artifacts while preserving the character and atmosphere of the original. The aim was simple: to make sure nothing stands in the way of fully experiencing the music.

In the early 1980s, Oleg Gotskozik left the Soviet Union, and after that his name virtually disappeared from Soviet music journalism and literature. There were no official bans or public statements. He was simply no longer mentioned. Oriental Suite continued to exist on its own, without an author and without context. The record never entered the canon, received no continuation, and was never officially reissued. It seemed to fall out of time.
The original vinyl pressing was released in a run of around 32,000 copies, but most of them remained within the republic and never reached wide circulation. Today, original copies are hard to find and have long become objects of interest for collectors. There have been no official reissues, only attempts that never went beyond test pressings.
Today, Oriental Suite sounds surprisingly contemporary. It is music that can be described as deep ethno-jazz and even, in a certain sense, spiritual jazz. There is no exoticism here, no decorative borrowing, only a complete immersion in another musical way of thinking. It does not require explanations and does not need to be justified by its time.
This is not a forgotten curiosity revived for collectors’ sake. It is music that simply waited for the moment when it could be heard without ideological filters or genre expectations. Now it is returning quietly, without noise or hype, but with the clear sense that this is not an artifact of an era, but a living and genuinely rare artistic statement.

Pianist and bandleader Linus Rebmann, together with Gabriel Widmaier on double bass and Johnny Walker on drums, shapes a transparent and powerful sound characterized by great joy in playing and a palpable sense of familiarity. The album's ten original compositions tell of observations, inner movements, and moments whose depth is better expressed through music than words. The three young musicians met in the Baden- Wurttemberg Landesjugendjazzorchester, and after winning the "Jugend jazzt south- west" competition in 2024, the trio was awarded the prestigious Deutschlandfunk Studiopreis at the national meeting. This made it possible to produce the album in the legendary Kammermusiksaal of Deutschlandfunk in Cologne - a space that has been among the country's finest recording venues for decades. The band members deliberately chose an intimate setting for the recordings. Everything was played through a single main microphone, without subsequent corrections to individual instruments. A working method that demands absolute presence and mutual trust. It is precisely this immediacy that shapes the sound of "Listen To The River": the album is transparent, organic, flowing, almost breathing.

Thirteen years later, building on everything they had learned about capturing the purest sound, Guttenberg returned to produce The Ultimate Demonstration Disc Volume 2. Designed to bridge the gap between technical terminology and the listening experience, this collection serves as a practical guide to the audiophile lexicon. On each track, Guttenberg "spells out" exactly what to listen for, providing clear musical examples of concepts like "transparency" and "soundstage depth." By using a custombuilt recording chain and avoiding dynamic range compressors, equalizers, or overdubbing, the album captures a "live" session exactly as the microphones heard it - resulting in a sound so neutral and natural that it can be used to reveal the subtle differences between high-end speakers, electronics, and cables.

The Flaming Sideburns' debut album remastered 25th anniversary edition out in June via Svart Records In the beginning of the new Millennium, The Flaming Sideburns were getting ready to record our first proper album. First we rented Ismo Alanko’s old rehearsal room in Otaniemi, Espoo, and turned it into a recording facility. Old analog tape recorders, vintage microphones, a Space Echo unit, and other top equipment were brought in directly from Berlin, Germany by the album’s producer, Jürgen Hendlmeier. As producer Jürgen Hendlmeier recalls the final steps of the sessions: “Fact is, when we mastered the record at Seawolf Studios we had no real idea what to do with this equipment. We just wanted to make it louder and louder – that was all we wanted. We wanted to go to twelve instead of eleven.” When Hallelujah Rock’n’Rollah was first released, it did not sound as “natural” as it had originally been planned to be – but the album was a huge success for the band nevertheless. For this remastered edition, Hendlmeier dug deep enough to finally find the files containing all the original mixes. The album’s producer then remastered the album himself, and the end result is far more convincing. Compared to the original version—which is already very good—the album now feels as if it has been completely remixed for the better. As a bonus, on the original album some of the songs were edited shorter, but now all of them appear in their original length. -Eduardo Martinez

The Flaming Sideburns' debut album remastered 25th anniversary edition out in June via Svart Records In the beginning of the new Millennium, The Flaming Sideburns were getting ready to record our first proper album. First we rented Ismo Alanko’s old rehearsal room in Otaniemi, Espoo, and turned it into a recording facility. Old analog tape recorders, vintage microphones, a Space Echo unit, and other top equipment were brought in directly from Berlin, Germany by the album’s producer, Jürgen Hendlmeier. As producer Jürgen Hendlmeier recalls the final steps of the sessions: “Fact is, when we mastered the record at Seawolf Studios we had no real idea what to do with this equipment. We just wanted to make it louder and louder – that was all we wanted. We wanted to go to twelve instead of eleven.” When Hallelujah Rock’n’Rollah was first released, it did not sound as “natural” as it had originally been planned to be – but the album was a huge success for the band nevertheless. For this remastered edition, Hendlmeier dug deep enough to finally find the files containing all the original mixes. The album’s producer then remastered the album himself, and the end result is far more convincing. Compared to the original version—which is already very good—the album now feels as if it has been completely remixed for the better. As a bonus, on the original album some of the songs were edited shorter, but now all of them appear in their original length. -Eduardo Martinez

Church Andrews and Matt Davies return with Tilt, a pinpoint collection of skewed microtonal and discordant compositions for percussion and digital synth.

Tones ascend but don’t resolve, rhythms loop, collapse and reassemble, patterns wriggle with geometric precision, sounds tilt, the edges fray.

Kinetic, elastic, wonky without being obtuse, Church Andrews (aka Kirk Barley) and Matt Davies new LP Tilt is the culmination of six years of creative collaboration, refining and redrawing the relationship between Davies’ virtuoso percussive practice and Barley’s off-kilter synthesis.

Where their 2024 release Yucca, took rhythmic cues from the Fibonacci sequence, Tilt explores a more intuitive approach, returning the duo to a minimal sound interrogating the interplay of chance and control, system and body, freedom and mechanisation. Featuring prepared guitar, finely resonant muted percussion and a crisp palette of digital synths, it draws on the pair's long-standing interest in alternate time signatures.

Here, a tripped-up 11/8 beat gives ‘Yokai’ a disorientating quality, threading unusual paths through the playful, mysterious 5-note Hirajoshi scale - a pentatonic scale from Japan hinted at in the track’s playful reference to a supernatural spirit in the country’s folklore.

Using a simple on-off system between drum and synth to trigger a Shepard tone - an auditory illusion of a sound that ascends or descends in pitch without actually changing - ‘Shepherd’ revels in the stripped-back simplicity of its sonic palette, where the nuance lies in what Barley calls “subtleties in the timbre of the sounds” as they dialogue with Davies’ warped loops.

It’s these finely tuned melodic drum tones and an eerily abstracted prepared guitar that give ‘Debris’ its uncanny feel, yet never feeling overly controlled. Like the album’s meticulous, graphic artwork, Tilt seeks the shifting ground between the physical and the digital, as acoustic tones are tweaked and disambiguated into new and unexpected forms.

Tilt represents Church Andrews and Matt Davies’ ongoing collaboration in its purest form - a hyper-defined evocation of gravitational potential in their live sound.

NEW IDEA SOCIETY signs to Relapse and offers their new album, Fire on the Hill. The band has taken on differing shapes and forms over the years, but at its heart is the duo of Mike Law (Wild Arrows) and Stephen Brodsky (Cave In, Mutoid Man), a pair enraptured and united by the alchemical power of songwriting. With a connection that can be traced back to their high school years, between them exists an intuitive understanding that informs exactly what NEW IDEA SOCIETY is at any given point. Although the pair have come a long way since their earliest explorations in audio in the late 90s, the roots of their alliance were forged in those makeshift basement studios. For Fire On The Hill, Law and Brodsky took a more collaborative approach to songwriting than on previous releases. With Brodsky describing their process as “microscopic” and Law marveling at the particulars of the minutiae they pored over, the attention to detail and their meticulous approach to making adjustments in service of the work shines through in the cohesiveness of this collection of songs. With demos passed back and forth over months - Brodsky sending them in the early morning, and Law taking the evening shift - the songs evolved naturally; refining a chord progression, adapting a lyrical perspective, or in the case of the track Lantern, rewriting the words entirely. Thematically the album is about love, in its many forms. With each track detailing some element of navigating emotional relationships - the beauty, the pain, the loss and the hope - the duo have captured the immediacy and urgency of such feelings, tempered by a sliver of yearning that stops short of tipping into nostalgia. Now with years of experience to their names, alongside a developed vocabulary and extended sonic palette to draw from, they have created something specifically and idiosyncratically NEW IDEA SOCIETY. Fire On The Hill is them in full flight, at the height of their powers. Short: NEW IDEA SOCIETY signs to Relapse and offers their new album, Fire on the Hill. The band has taken on differing shapes and forms over the years, but at its heart is the duo of Mike Law (Wild Arrows) and Stephen Brodsky (Cave In, Mutoid Man), a pair enraptured and united by the alchemical power of songwriting. FFO: CAVE IN, MUTOID MAN, EMMA RUTH RUNDLE, HARVESTMAN, BIG BRAVE, CRIPPLED BLACK PHOENIX, JESU

In Sheep’s Clothing announces the long-awaited vinyl pressing of Marc Leclair’s beloved 2005 album Musique pour 3 femmes enceintes. The album will also be available on streaming for the first time via Community Music Group.

For years after Marc Leclair released Musique pour 3 femmes enceintes, he heard from listeners who had lived with the record in an unusually intimate way. Many described how the music became part of the emotional landscape of the months leading to birth. “I never expected that,” Leclair says. “Many women told me they listened to the record throughout their pregnancies. They said it made a real difference, that it helped them. It became more than just a record.”

First issued on CD in the early 2000s, Musique pour 3 femmes enceintes (Music for Three Pregnant Women) now returns in a new edition from In Sheep’s Clothing Hi-Fi, appearing on vinyl for the first time as a double LP. The record is being pressed in Detroit at Archer Record Pressing, the historic plant behind deep-groove classics by Juan Atkins, Kevin Saunderson, Underground Resistance, UR’s Jeff Mills, and J Dilla.

Listeners who know the Montreal-based Leclair through his better-known work as Akufen might be surprised by the tone here. During the same years he was shaping the intricate micro-sampling tracks that made Akufen a cult figure on labels including Perlon, Force Inc. and Trapez, Leclair was quietly developing this far more personal project. The meticulous craftsmanship remained the same, though the focus shifted from the hyper-detailed cut-up rhythms of his dance records toward something slower and more atmospheric. “I always compare my work to a jeweler,” Leclair says. “It’s really very precise. I’m a bit of a detail freak. I can spend hours or days on just one phrase in one song. Everything has to be perfectly put together.”

The project began almost accidentally. A few members of Leclair’s circle became pregnant nearly simultaneously, including one who had long believed she couldn’t conceive. The first track he recorded for the project wasn’t meant to advance a larger concept, he says. “It was meant to highlight the fact that three of my closest friends became pregnant at exactly the same time.”

Leclair was already a father with a three-year-old daughter, so the emotional terrain of early parenthood was familiar. Gradually the idea expanded. “I began thinking, why not make a whole album that celebrates this and also follows the entire pregnancy, the nine months,” he says. The music developed piece by piece, including a track originally commissioned by the Berlin experimental duo Rechenzentrum that would later become the album’s opening movement.

Nearly seven years passed between the first composition and the finished album, and the music mirrors the strange arithmetic of pregnancy itself. What begins as a single idea multiplies outward, sounds layering and branching until the album feels less like a sequence of compositions than a living process unfolding in time. “I work very slowly,” Leclair says. “Everything has to be something I’m completely behind. I never want to rush anything. I want things to come naturally.” Across its 72 minutes, the album blossoms with the patience of a long meditation on time, growth and emergence.

When Musique pour 3 femmes enceintes first appeared via Mutek, it circulated quietly but steadily. Critics who discovered it later recognized its unusual scope. In a 2006 Pitchfork review, Mark Richardson gave the record an 8.1, calling “150e Jour” “an unfailingly gorgeous and tightly sequenced quilt of guitar and piano samples reminiscent of Tangerine Dream,” and describing “85e Jour” as infused with “viscous pop ambient drift, the gauzy synth pads ebbing and flowing with rhythm.” Boomkat described the album as “a majestic opus from a producer that's always promised so much — here delving into a panoramic construction of almost visibly radiant music that works so beautifully through each and every second of its 72 minute lifespan.”

The new In Sheep’s Clothing Hi-Fi edition finally presents the record in the format Leclair long imagined. “I always thought that record deserved a vinyl edition,” he says. Spread across two LPs, the music now has room to unfold at its natural pace. More than twenty years after it first appeared, Musique pour 3 femmes enceintes remains what it was from the start: a carefully shaped meditation on transformation and the quiet miracle of life beginning.

Sultans Ghost Ship LP was originally released on Sympathy For The Record Industry in 2000. While RFTC looked for a new drummer, Speedo (armed with an 8 track tape machine and 3 microphones) devised yet another alias as “Slasher” and concocted this primordial ooze of moped scuzz, punk rock and roll. Ghost Ship was met with enthusiasm by those seeking blistering relief from the weak, whiny, wretched and wimpy wannabes du jour.

The sound is full on, straight ahead with only starting gates and finish lines between songs. The band played some shows around California and would slightly evolve on their second LP Shipwrecked. Ghost Ship is Sultans at their most thuggish and hairiest. Taking inspiration from Australia’s Chosen Few, Ramones bootlegs, Misfits bootlegs and then challenging themselves to be as thrifty and impatient as possible, the songs are intentionally brief, similar and burly. After this was recorded these tapes lay dormant in a shed for over 20 years. When the tapes were recently unearthed it revealed unreleased songs recorded after Ghost Ship yet before the band’s follow up LP Shipwrecked. Some of these songs would later be absorbed by RFTC and re-recorded. These songs are included here as bonus tracks and offer no relief to the record’s unrelenting pace.

"Happy Today" is the third album from guitarist/bandleader"s Jeff Parker"s long-running ETA IVtet, recorded live at Lodge Room in Los Angeles on August 20, 2025. This fresh entry into the IVtet"s catalog captures the instantly recognizable group sound of Parker and the band - including drummer Jay Bellerose, bassist Anna Butterss, and saxophonist Josh Johnson - on record outside of the now-shuttered Highland Park micro-club ETA for the first time ever. "Happy Today" is that sound - the IVtet"s signature syntax built around long-form, minimalist improvisation - expanding confidently into larger space while creating the same hypnotizing, deeply-tuned listening effect on visibly enraptured audiences. The album contains two sidelong pieces recorded as the band performed in the round at Lodge Room, surrounded by an audience of 400 or so deep listeners.

Groovy, functional and elegantly reduced Micro House. AFRV008 brings Dubfound for a tight, late-night or early mroning leaning 12" on Aforisme. Freak Love EP moves with that signature micro-house precision: crisp drums, warm low-end pressure and hypnotic groove shifts that keep the floor locked without ever overdoing it. On the A-side, “Freak Love” sets the tone with elastic rhythms and a stripped-back, forward-driving pulse. Flip to “Hold Me Up” for a deeper, more rolling mood, minimal elements arranged with maximum impact. Maher Daniel closes it out with his remix, adding extra swing and a refined, spacious touch that feels made for long blends and after-hours moments.

To celebrate the 20-year anniversary of our label Jamaican Recordings and to mark the sad one year passing of the musical maestro reggae producer Bunny `Striker’ Lee, we have pulled together a brand new collection of some great Bunny Lee rhythms.

Our label started way back with initial meetings with Bunny Lee and a promise to keep his music available, out on the streets. He will be sorely missed but will live on through his extraordinary musical legacy and we hope to add to this by including this release to the stable of an unbeatable catalogue.

Legendary record producer Bunny `Striker’ Lee’s vast selection of rhythms were ever present at any Sound Clash or Dance worth talking about in the early to mid-1970’s.
Where the version found on the b-side of a single or special dub cut on acetates, would be played to win over the people and conquer the dance. Bunny Lee was the undisputed rhythm master and on this special release he is also the MC telling the crowd how it is and that any rival sound system should watch out as he has the rhythms that can reign supreme. The band cutting these timeless rhythms were a group of top Jamaican musicians Bunny had put together called The Aggrovators.

The Aggrovators were a group of reggae musicians that usually featured Carlton `Santa’ Davis on drums playing alongside Robbie Shakespeare on bass, with other musicians added like Earl `Chinna’ Smith on guitar and Tommy McCook and Vin Gordon and Lennox Brown added for horn arrangements. Keyboards and organ duties normally fell
to musicians Ansel Collins and Bernard ‘Touter’ Harvey. The band was named after singer Eddie Grant had repeated the phrase to Bunny Lee on one of his many trips to England, that such and such artist was giving him `Aggro’. This was a term used in England in the 1970’s by the Skinhead followers of reggae music. A term shortened
from the word `Aggrovation’, meaning trouble, fighting or making the situation worse. Bunny Lee was so taken with this term that on returning to Jamaica, not only did he name his group of musicians the `Aggrovators’ but he also named his record shop situated at 101 Orange Street `Agro Records’.

We have compiled some great tracks recorded by this fantastic group of musicians. With the added extra magic of Mr Bunny Lee calling it out as only he can on the microphone.
Yes Run Sound Boy Run the version master is here…Respect

Mystic Arts brings you two essential cuts from Gary Irwin (The Vendetta Suite / Hell YeahRecordings). Dating back to 1994 and 1995 respectively, both tracks were originally released on David Holmes' Exploding Plastic Inevitable label.

Waveforms In Wonderland is a bubbling, acidic brain-melter - inspired, as Gary recalls,by Richie Hawtin, Conemelt and falling out with a friend at a Primal Scream gig. Diary of aMicrochip moves further off-grid: an unplaceable hybrid where Detroit techno, electro, funk and ambient house intersect. Thirty years on, both tracks remain remarkably intact. Timeless.

Microwave’s instant classic Much Love is turning 10 this year, and to celebrate, we’ve collaborated with the band on a special, limited edition anniversary reissue, including the original record in its entirety alongside
a second LP featuring unreleased live and alternate renditions of every track on the record! With brand new gatefold artwork as well.

Wasteland is a record that is unafraid to plunge into the darkness of the modern world and embrace the weirder, edgier and more unnerving moments that come from doing so. It is an album that captures all the enormity of life from the micro to the macro, zooming in on the personal as well reflecting on broader societal issues.

“Wasteland is about the idea of a place once known or familiar that is now broken down and unrecognisable,” says Ghedi. “It’s about exploring the process of watching someone’s surroundings and environment collapse.” And within that you have a lot going on. “It also explores death, personal loss, grief, mental health and how the natural world provides solace and meaning for that loss and how these worlds blur into one another.”
Ghedi has always been an artist that in many ways perfectly encompasses folk music in its purest form but he is also someone that frequently pushes the boundaries of that label and no more so is that apparent than on this record. As like previous albums, such as 2018’s A Hymn for Ancient Land and 2021’s In the Furrows of Common Place, Ghedi uses traditional folk songs as a means to explore contemporary issues via modern and experimentally-leaning music. “With the traditional material on this album I wanted to find songs with content that resonated with me,” says Ghedi. “But also that were based roughly around the north of England.” This is a central underlying theme to the album for Ghedi. The feelings of loss, erosion, and degradation are often most pronounced in working class communities and this was something he wanted to weave in. “It was important to voice and choose material that represented or expressed issues that correlated with things going on around me.”

However, as remarkable as some of the traditional material is, some of the most arresting work on the album is Ghedi’s entirely original compositions. Lead single ‘Wasteland’ is a stunning piece of work that while rooted in an environment being corrupted and broken – “there’s violence on these hills” Ghedi sorrowfully sings, before claiming this is no longer somewhere that can be called home – it is also a stirringly beautiful composition that soars and glides as it opens up, as sweeping strings swoop and in and out of Ghedi’s twangy electric guitar.

The decision to incorporate more fuller sounds, such as electric guitar and huge drums, results in a notable shift and evolution in tone for Ghedi. “The lyrical content needed something more band-driven and loud to deliver them,” he explains. “Incorporating the electric guitar in my songwriting was also a big part of opening the sound up, using drop tunings pushed me to use my voice in a wider range, which forced me to use falsetto a lot which I haven’t previously done before. That then opened the sound up and gave me creative ideas for bigger arrangements and to sonically really push things.”

What Ghedi has done in creating his masterpiece is construct a remarkable space where deeply intimate and personal feelings coexist with reflections on environment, place and society, while also interweaving historical context via traditional songs. Wasteland is as much of a world to explore and exist in as much as it is an album, with Ghedi carving out his distinctly unique sonic language and voice to explore that singular environment.

Wasteland is a record that is unafraid to plunge into the darkness of the modern world and embrace the weirder, edgier and more unnerving moments that come from doing so. It is an album that captures all the enormity of life from the micro to the macro, zooming in on the personal as well reflecting on broader societal issues.

“Wasteland is about the idea of a place once known or familiar that is now broken down and unrecognisable,” says Ghedi. “It’s about exploring the process of watching someone’s surroundings and environment collapse.” And within that you have a lot going on. “It also explores death, personal loss, grief, mental health and how the natural world provides solace and meaning for that loss and how these worlds blur into one another.”
Ghedi has always been an artist that in many ways perfectly encompasses folk music in its purest form but he is also someone that frequently pushes the boundaries of that label and no more so is that apparent than on this record. As like previous albums, such as 2018’s A Hymn for Ancient Land and 2021’s In the Furrows of Common Place, Ghedi uses traditional folk songs as a means to explore contemporary issues via modern and experimentally-leaning music. “With the traditional material on this album I wanted to find songs with content that resonated with me,” says Ghedi. “But also that were based roughly around the north of England.” This is a central underlying theme to the album for Ghedi. The feelings of loss, erosion, and degradation are often most pronounced in working class communities and this was something he wanted to weave in. “It was important to voice and choose material that represented or expressed issues that correlated with things going on around me.”

However, as remarkable as some of the traditional material is, some of the most arresting work on the album is Ghedi’s entirely original compositions. Lead single ‘Wasteland’ is a stunning piece of work that while rooted in an environment being corrupted and broken – “there’s violence on these hills” Ghedi sorrowfully sings, before claiming this is no longer somewhere that can be called home – it is also a stirringly beautiful composition that soars and glides as it opens up, as sweeping strings swoop and in and out of Ghedi’s twangy electric guitar.

The decision to incorporate more fuller sounds, such as electric guitar and huge drums, results in a notable shift and evolution in tone for Ghedi. “The lyrical content needed something more band-driven and loud to deliver them,” he explains. “Incorporating the electric guitar in my songwriting was also a big part of opening the sound up, using drop tunings pushed me to use my voice in a wider range, which forced me to use falsetto a lot which I haven’t previously done before. That then opened the sound up and gave me creative ideas for bigger arrangements and to sonically really push things.”

What Ghedi has done in creating his masterpiece is construct a remarkable space where deeply intimate and personal feelings coexist with reflections on environment, place and society, while also interweaving historical context via traditional songs. Wasteland is as much of a world to explore and exist in as much as it is an album, with Ghedi carving out his distinctly unique sonic language and voice to explore that singular environment.

For the second time, the Geneva-based duo Cyril Cyril hands the microphone to the Syndicat du Futur. Behind this small group campaigning for a better future are Jeannot and Marilou, Zoé, Marlowe and Lenaïs — the respective children of Cyril (Yeterian) and Cyril (Bondi). Two years after La Météo / Le Monde Embêtant, the crew is back. The voices have grown and changed, but the sharp perspective remains, and the adult world had better watch out.

On Le Petit Bonhomme Orange, a certain D. Trump takes a hit. Seen from a child’s point of view, the war leader and his gesticulations look less like a figure of authority than a ridiculous scarecrow ruling through fear. And when power turns grotesque, it stops being intimidating.

With Le Gros Hit, it’s time for the absurd. A song that builds itself in plain sight, stacking lines with no apparent logic and embracing its own laziness. A reminder that you can make a track with three ideas and a chorus, and sometimes that’s all it takes.

“Estonian cultural theoretic Tõnis Kahu once said that Black Metal is men seeking for masculinity while their bodies lack the capacity to catch up and are lagging behind. In the age of microplastics and low-testosterone, Tapetud Rott is asking for ancestral guidance from George Michael. Each day with the growing pains of maturity they can only dream about living somewhere so happy-go-lucky and tranquill as the city that once provided the suitable breeding ground for giving birth to such an agressive and theatrical expression that could mark its cadaverous polar opposite. The mask they now so falsely wear is one seeking for Vitamin D inside the heart of a deceased Rat.”

Limited Black 7-inch Vinyl

Music by Robert Nikolajev & Mikk Madisson
Recorded in Tallinn

Mastered By The Bastard

Two turntables and a microphone. There is a truth in the clarity of that simple coda, a truth that also belies the breadth of what is possible within its confines. Sometimes you gotta get reminded. I Guess U Had To Be There, the new album from NYC rapper ELUCID and veteran producer Sebb Bash, is one of those ones. So fresh it sounds like it was made tomorrow, but bet money you could put this on in ’89 and get heads bopping.
There are moments in music when masters of their craft cross paths at the height of their respective powers—records like Madvillainy, Liquid Swords, Dr. Octagonecologyst, and Hell Hath No Fury—where the result is more than the sum of its parts. ELUCID and Sebb Bash find themselves in this heady, seemingly effortless ephemera on I Guess U Had To Be There. Everything is both familiar and groundbreaking. The beats shift and flip under ELUCID’s feet but he tightropes it all, delivery nimble as a mountain goat, producer and rapper moving in perfect synchronization. Some shining stars make memorable appearances: billy woods, Breezly Brewin, Estee Nack, Shabaka Hutchings. But this is a two-man show, and the duo keep the spotlight where it belongs. I Guess U Had To Be There is a captivating, convention-defying listen and a high-water mark for two of the best artists in the genre.