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We want to honour the ONE & ONLY – mighty DJ FUNK !!
Rest In Peace !

Coke Bottle Clear vinyl. Jun 25, 2021 (EST) CD MRG755cd 673855075525 $6.00 Jun 25, 2021 (EST) LP - Black MRG755lp 673855075518 $11.00 Dec 02, 2022 (EST) LP - Coke Bottle Clear MRG755lp-dlx-C1 673855075556 $12.50 TOTAL Quietly Blowing It was written and arranged by Taylor in his home studio_his 8' x 10' sanctuary packed floor to ceiling with books, records, and old guitars_as he watched the chaotic world spin outside his window. "Writing became a daily routine," he explains, "and that was a ballast for me. Having spent so much time on the road over the past ten years, where writing consistently with any kind of flow can be tricky, it felt refreshing. And being in my studio, which is both isolated from and totally connected to the life of my family, felt appropriate for these songs." Between March and June, Taylor wrote and recorded upwards of two dozen songs_in most cases playing all of the instruments himself_before winnowing the collection down and bringing them to the Hiss band. In July, the group of musicians, with Taylor in the production seat, went into Overdub Lane in Durham, NC, for a week, where they recorded Quietly Blowing It as an organic unit honed to a fine edge from their years together on the road. "We all needed to be making that music together," he recalls. "We've all spent so many years traveling all over the world, but in that moment, it felt cathartic to be recording those particular songs with each other in our own small hometown."

The inimitable Richard Youngs returns to Black Truffle with this third full-length for the label, Hidden. Like CXXI and Modern Sorrow, Hidden unfolds across two side-long pieces at once eminently listenable and possessed of the ‘bloody-minded’ dedication to ‘having an idea and sticking with it’ that Youngs himself has identified as one of the key qualities of his work.

At the core of both pieces are rapid, randomised arpeggios generated with a Moog Grandmother, hypnotic patterns that wouldn’t be out of place on a Berlin School classic. Alongside these arpeggios, across the seventeen minutes of the first side-long piece Youngs builds an airy structure of shakers, synthetic handclaps and a brief, repeated sample, impossible to identify but sounding like a glitched foghorn. Over the top we hear his unmistakable voice, repeating single syllables—Ha, Ho—with a slow delay, something like a lonely one-man-band take on Anthony Moore’s Pieces from the Cloudland Ballroom or a more musical elaboration of the hypnotically overlapping delayed phonemes of Anton Bruhin’s Rotomotor. Like much of Youngs' work, the arrangement of sounds is sparse, each layer punctuated by spaces that allow others to shine through, in a way that seems to have more to do with dub or early hip-hop than high-brow models of musical reductionism.

On the flipside, the arpeggios return, now accompanied by ringing, filtered guitar chords and long flute tones. The use of a similar ground layer across the two pieces with strikingly different overdubs calls up Youngs' first solo record, the classic Advent, reminding us of how consistent ‘theme and variations’ is as an approach in his enormous body of work. Joined by handclaps and a chiming sound, the piece almost feels like it is about to achieve dance-floor lift-off at times, only for the percussion to disappear and leave the listener once again floating among the guitar and flute, now joined by occasional cut-off vocal snippets, like a radio turned quickly on and off. The suspension of these disparate elements over the steady foundation of the Moog arpeggios might remind some listeners of the free-form studio explorations of Moebius & Plank and Holger Czukay or even give a nod to Youngs’ formative encounter with Cabaret Voltaire.

Like some of Youngs’ much-loved work with Simon Wickham-Smith, Hidden approaches relatively familiar sounds and instruments from skewed angles, delighting in loose structures of interaction that border on gleeful incoherence while remaining outwardly beautiful. Coming up to almost four decades of persistent activity, like little else in contemporary music Youngs’ work beams with the simple joys of exploration and experiment.



Riding in on an eviscerating vocal alarm call and originally released in 1988 as the final installment of her Masque of the Red Death trilogy, Diamanda Galás" You Must Be Certain of the Devil is as unflinching now as it was on release in 1988. It remains a swaggering, furious fuck-you to those who might cast aside the sick and dying in the name of faith and scripture. Often misunderstood as simply dark for its subject matter, You Must Be Certain of the Devil in fact shines a light of such total exposure it leaves nowhere to hide, forensically unmasking the fury and pain of real grief and the vast spectrum of emotions rendered by the AIDS epidemic. It is an album that looks you square in the eye, pins you against a wall and makes you look at and feel the horror the virus visited upon a person, the knowledge of certain death in a hostile environment, and the hypocrisy of those who claim to be Samaritans or protectors.

Xexa is still undefined, gliding over her origins, influences, and points of reference. Her music is informed by uploads from all that, processing heritage and future in much the same democratic way, sure of its (her!) path. Synthetic as it may sound, »Kissom« contains the very human element of Xexa's presence, not only through her instantly recognizable ethereal vocals but also manifest in the web of grooves stopping short of »dance«. »Kizomba 003« is the closest she comes to the dancefloor, a reduced take on the popular style of kizomba, a low-key interpretation but with the vocals atypically high in the mix. A brief breath of nostalgia. »Kissom« (title track) prolongs the slow pace, almost as an extended mix of »Kizomba 003«, stretching the sexy bounce for close to 4 extra-delightful minutes.

Everything seems to dissolve into space, as if every track gently expires only to be reconfigured somewhere else, molecule by molecule, perhaps in a different location within our mind. The artist somehow corroborates the feeling, particularly regarding »Será«, »Xtinti«, and »Txe«, which she says »finish exactly where I wanted. They all end with an EQ that mutes the frequencies until they cease to exist«. Here, there, sparse beats, successive waves of ambience, half-machine lips singing close to our ears, a blend of classic 4AD and a metallic environment warmly wrapping around the music. Extra-long, »Quem és tu?« poses the question – Who are we? Who is she? And the title »Kissom« stems from another question Xexa often hears from people, »Ki som é este?« (What is this music?). The answer might well be the artist's own paste of the words »kiss« and »som«. Lovely.

A song about Colostomy - from the opening bars you might think so. but it gets worse. 'X rated' stuff.
the label say 'Djoko is no stranger to Voyage Direct. Having first appeared on the label way back in 2012, he's returned numerous times since, becoming an integral member of the imprint's growing family of artists. Elsewhere, he's delivered material on Tuskegee, Mobilee and Leftroom, amongst others, developing an approach that takes inspiration from numerous styles of house and techno. However, little he's previously released can match the raw, eyebrow-raising lust and sexually charged funk of Dirty Talk'.

Driven forward by Djoko's sleazy, whispered spoken word vocal, the original version combines the rubbery, bass-heavy rhythms of classic, Dance Mania-style ghetto house, the delay-laden guitar flashes of vintage NYC proto-house, and the kind of darting, funk-fuelled keys - provided by fellow Dutch producer Kid Sublime - that recall the glory days of '80s electrofunk. Djoko provides an alternate version in the shape of the thrusting, stripped-back Club Dub', with his breathy Accapella' rounding off the A-side.

On the flip, two Voyage Direct stalwarts take it in turns to rework the track. First up is label boss Tom Trago, who builds on Djoko's elastic percussion with some dense new drum hits of his own. These are combined with spacey synths and sharp string stabs, giving Dirty Talk' a more classic techno/house fusion flavour. In contrast, Werner uses the opportunity to turn in a triple-X-rated interpretation full of bounding, Chicago-influenced beats, intergalactic pads, sleazy acid lines, and sweaty, surging drum fills. It's a fittingly breathless remix.'

The Mighty Ryeders' rare groove classic Help Us Spread the Message has been remastered and reissued here because it forever remains a favourite with DJs and dancers. It's a timeless soul and funk blend with many a standout jams, not least 'Evil Vibrations,' a super cool and breezy groove famously sampled by De La Soul in 'A Roller Skating Jam Named Saturdays' and later covered by The Rebirth. Alongside funk staples like the aching beauty of 'Help Us Spread The Message' and the collector-favourite 'Let There Be Peace' the album blends rich horns, clavinet and deep grooves with great songwriting and vocal harmonies. Do not sleep on this masterpiece of funk.

DJ Vibe, widely regarded as one of Portugal’s most influential and sought-after DJs, has played a pivotal role in shaping the country’s electronic music scene. Not only has he been instrumental in launching some of Portugal's most iconic clubs, but he is also behind some of the biggest anthems in the scene, such as “So Get Up” and “Dance With Me,” both released in 1994 on Kaos Records and Tribal America. Since the early 90s, he has released music on seminal labels such as Nervous, Twisted, and Innervisions, among many others.

From the underground rave scene to iconic club parties, from radio airwaves to packed dance floors, from DJing to production - DJ Vibe has traversed many paths in his decades-long career, contributing to the foundation of the modern "dance culture" that emerged in the mid/late 80s.

After over four decades of dominating clubs and festivals worldwide, what’s left to accomplish? For DJ Vibe, the answer is simple: a new adventure fueled by the same passion and excitement that defined his career. In 2024, he took a bold step forward with his debut album, Frequências—his first full-length work under his own name.

Frequências is an album defined by freedom and passion—two words that might sound cliché but perfectly capture its essence. A balanced body of work that seamlessly moves between high-energy moments for the dance floor and introspective chapters ideal for late-night reflection and relaxation.

The collaborations between Chet Baker and Art Pepper were originally issued in such a disparity of ways that it might seem difficult at first to think about them as a coherent body of work. Their first session, for instance, was originally segmented in a variety of compilation albums, one tune each, and many times the selections were even abridged, suppressing a solo here or there.

Along with another equally splendid session, it was included in Baker and Pepper's most famous album together, Playboys, which was also released under the title picture of heath. At the time, both Baker and Pepper were at their peaks, which is to say that each was playing as much or more on his instrument than anyone in jazz.

Ground-breaking percussive ambient recordings from Gabrielle Roth & The Mirrors, inducing altered states of consciousness through ecstatic dance. "Selected Works from 1985 to 2005" finally available on Time Capsule

Despite featuring an extraordinary cast of musicians (with credits including Pharoah Sanders, Miles Davis, Sun Ra, Santana and Milton
Nascimento) and selling hundreds of thousands of albums, the music of Gabrielle Roth & The Mirrors remains largely unheard beyond their sphere. Conceived as live, improvised soundtracks to Roth’s transcendental dance workshops, musical acclaim was never on the agenda.Instead, for a passionate dancer and spiritual polyglot like Gabrielle Roth, movement was a means through which to channel a wide spectrum of teaching, from experimental psychology to psychedelic counter-culture. It was from this heady mix that she devised a movement meditation known as 5Rhtyhms, which came to define her life’s work.

As “guide and catalyst”, Roth would dance to inspire the percussion-led instrumentals that would in turn fuel her 5Rhythms workshops, stimulating a secular form of ecstatic dance with roots in Native American shamanic traditions, Afro-Brazilian Candomblé and Yoruba drumming. Using anything from a Sioux pony drum to East African kihembe and Japanese Kabuki drums, Gabrielle’s lawyer-turned-drummer husband Robert Ansell set the foundational rhythms for The Mirrors’ recordings, each of which would then feature a rotating cast of friends and professional musicians.

“The secret of everything we’ve done is that we never told anybody what to play,” Robert shares. “Instead of our albums being a musical vision of one person like me or Gabrielle, they were the musical vision of a whole bunch of people.”At times the recordings have a Middle Eastern flair, at others, West African and spiritual jazz modes come to the fore. Hints of kosmische musik, proto-house and electronic ambience are laced like LSD through the organic rhythmic structures. This was kaleidoscopic ambient music to stir the body and free the mind.

In practice, the task of synthesising these different elements fell to Scott Ansell, Robert’s son and a recording engineer whose credits now include Nile Rogers, Duran Duran, Grace Jones. With meticulous attention to detail he captured and translated the dynamic energy of each drum onto record. Their sessions became legendary, and with access to the best studios in the NYC, The Mirrors sparkled.

Despite being initially overlooked by the burgeoning ‘80s New Age market, which preferred pipes and gongs to The Mirrors’ heavy-grooving drums, Robert Ansell set up Raven Recording to self-release the music, creating a vast sonic archive of sixteen albums over almost forty years. The breadth of Raven’s catalogue is such that curator Pol Valls had to cut an initial selection of sixty-six tracks down to the eleven featured here. What crystallises is a stunning, mind-altering collection which spans, in Pol’s words, “a variety of genres, styles, and vibes within their catalogue, whether it is emotional, esoteric, spiritual, melancholic, hypnotic, dark, or at times a combination of these elements together.”Music for immersive and intimate environments, Gabrielle Roth & The Mirrors were born from the dance. In the hands of the right DJ, at the right time, in the right place, they might just return there.

Adey Omotade, a sound artist and cultural cartographer rooted in Lagos and shaped by diasporic experiences in Paris, Johannesburg, Berlin and Ivory Coast, brings a rare sensibility to this work: walking between worlds, bringing with him the cadence of home and the dissonance of diaspora. In his hands, sound becomes ritual: a migration of soul, an assemblage of bells, melodies and chants woven from Ifa shrines, river banks and Yoruba festivals. Playing the dual role of griot and cartographer, Omotade, who works across acoustic ecology, experimental music and sound design, builds each track like a shrine: layered, intentional, alive with breath and blood, each track a libation, each break an invocation. Each track unfurls like aso-oke, the celebratory fabric of the Yoruba people: drums that speak in polyrhythms, synths bending like waves, incantations layered like memory, fading then returning, gently like the water at the banks of the Osun River.

The influence of experimental sound design is evident throughout, but ‘Ni'ran’ is no cold abstraction. It pulses with life, with the heartbeat of talking drums, the breath of ambient textures and the warmth of the voices of babalawos, priests of Ifa, invoking ire (blessings) on all. ‘Oori : Ogbe’ invokes the sacred Odu Ifá — a divination verse that speaks of beginnings, clarity and destiny. In ‘Ofo : 'Nkantation’, polyrhythms unfold like verses, each beat a coded message inviting listeners to reflect on destiny and alignment.The title track ‘Ęęro : Eeşu’ begins with the haunting voice of a priest reciting the Odu Ifá, a calling to give unto Eesu his due. Percussive patterns unfold like verses, each beat both a memory and a prayer.

Neon Castle hones in on a fleeting sub-genre of early to mid-’80s folk-rock. For a brief moment, glistening slide guitar, fretless bass, satin floating over drum machines intertwined with ethereal female voices, conjuring a sound at once familiar and otherworldly—pop structures touched by myth. Some songs sway with the warmth of open ranch-land, crystal visions beneath thundering skies; others shimmer with candlelit mysticism, as if born in a pagan stone tower, crafted with the very staff Kate Bush might have wielded. Together, these pieces reveal a singular cloth.

Compiled by Charles Bals—now in his third collaboration with Smiling C—Neon Castle affirms his rare gift for storytelling through sound. Each track unfolds like a scene from an imagined film: castles glowing with noble gas, kingdoms awash in purple haze, white horses roaming free, hair cascading to the waist. The collection sketches a realm both new and upon a time, a world where fantasy takes shape through music. With Neon Castle, attentive listening becomes narrative.

A collection of earlier and newer works by LFU
combined in one EP.
On November 14, 2025 !K7 Records released DJ-Kicks by Eris Drew. She chose 'Oh Echt' by LFU as the opening track of her mix.
The style of 'Oh Echt' is not easy to categorize. Electronic breakbeats with Detroit hi-hat patterns and a typically pushy four-to-the-floor kick. The funky, staccato bassline and mysterious strings take you back to the eighties and the added funky organs and stabs complete the story. The "Oh Echt" Main Mix is the instrumental mix of the 'Vogel Mix' in which the 'Oh Echtapella' is incorporated.
The first design of 'Boom Boom Tracking' was in 2011 for a DJ/DRUM performance that LFU did. He picked it up again in 2014, but did not finish it until 2024. This big beat floor filler contains chemical beats accompanied by electrostabs and a deep, dark bassline. If you listen intently to this song on a regular audio device, you might notice a thump on every 1 of the 4 beats, but when it's played on a good, big sound system, you can't miss this tension in your stomach. 'Boom Boom Tracking' it is!
Downtempo percussive track 'Tjeetje' is the first track LFU has made in North Coast Studio in 2001. 'Slow Forward' was the third song he completed there in 2003, the same place where he met Ben Baan of Fruitcake, who played the piano part.
Initially, 'Queen Cubana' did not make it as a remix of Eddy Zoey's 'No Soy Cubano' in 2017. In this new version, LFU removed his vocals, except for "Step". LFU took inspiration from Katy Perry's 'Bon Appetit' and turned it into a rhythmic slow jam with carefully programmed beats, resulting in a spectacular funky joint.

Unreleased 80s psychedelic funk rock out of Boston, MA. Influenced by Funkadelic, Sly Stone and James Brown, to name a few.

Sherman Williams Started playing and writing music at age seven, he played through middle school.

Travelled with a group, called Total Eclipse, throughout the East Coast during his high school years.

He was on a mission to be a professional musician/singer/songwriter, of a band – he wanted heavy rhythms to match his huge guitar action, this is how Black Axess came about.

"I badly wanted to record the music that I helped to create with the Black Axess so paid out of pocket for the studio time." - Sherman Williams

From that session one single, "Tonight" was released on 7" but the lost album "The Golden Seal" sat on tape almost lost to time. That was until Robert Garcia and Daniel Mathis spoke to Sherman while tracking the "Tonight" Single, and discovered the lost LP we have here, credit to them both for sorting out and hooking us up and special thanks to Daniel for saving the tapes when UPS almost lost them, which might have been the end of it!

Lay back, light one up, and listen on loop.

Sugaring a Strawberry, the sophomore record from Julia, Julia, is a study in coming undone—on purpose. Recorded at COMA, Julia Kugel's home studio, and mixed through a custom Flickenger clone, the album drifts in and out of clarity like memory itself. It's emotionally retrospective, creatively unvarnished, and deeply human. You can hear it in the hiss, the warmth, in the vocals so raw they're like an open window. These songs weren't engineered for perfection. They were built to breathe. Her long-time collaborator and husband, Scott Montoya, mixes it all so loosely that you can hear the air between tracks— a space that makes the music feel inhabited rather than recorded.


"Bound" opens the album like a secret passed between sisters, solemn and unspeakably close. It begins with the softest of touches: hushed guitar, a near- whispered delivery that carries the intimacy of someone singing only for one other person. It's a love song, but not romantic, more ancestral in the way long bonds can be. All glow and undercurrent, "I Know," is like hearing someone hum through a wound. The track arrives as if it had been waiting, coiled and complete, to be sung. Its pulse is slow but insistent, anchored on a hypnotic loop and a vocal that's half-incantation, half-confession. One of the most outward-facing songs on the record, "Feeling Lucky," opens like a cigarette flicked in the dark– smoky and a little bit slick. Built on a skeletal beat and a nearly detached vocal, it leans into a sarcastic swagger that barely masks the ache beneath. The delivery is droll and glazed, the instrumentation is sparse and a little woozy, leaving space for her voice to sway—a shrug of a song, stylish in its sadness. "A Love That Hurts" drifts in on soft, fingerpicked guitar and a dry, close-mic vocal that feels both haunted and immediate. The mix is stripped down and analog-warm, letting tape hum and silence frame the emotion. Julia sings like she's remembering something she doesn't want to, each line a slight unraveling. Like the rest of the album, "A Love That Hurts" doesn't push toward resolution. It sits in the ache, sifts through it, makes it beautiful.

Sugaring a Strawberry doesn't seek catharsis so much as stumbles into it. There's a quiet volatility to these songs like they might fall apart if you press too hard. It moves in shadow and softness, asking questions it doesn't answer. It doesn’t end with closure. It ends with truth.

MJ Lenderman is a songwriter born and raised in Asheville, North Carolina. The anatomy of an MJ record might go something like this: warped pedal steels and skuzzed out guitar; a voice reminiscent of the high-lonesome warble of a choirboy; the keen observations and reflections of a front stoop philosopher. Songs snake their way from a lo-fi home recording to something glossier made with longtime friends at Asheville's Drop of Sun studios, but the recording setting
doesn't seem to matter much - at its core, a Lenderman song rings true.

MJ Lenderman was recorded, mixed and mastered for digital in 2019 by Colin Miller in Asheville NC, and was self-released online to quiet but firm acclaim. Now available as a Double LP and remastered for vinyl by Heather Jones, it offers a glimpse into the formative steps of a style; focused and precise, yet expansive and rough around the edges, that remains consistent across MJ's catalogue to date.

Looking as firmly to the legacy of 90s slowcore as it does to the tenor of Magnolia Electric Co. and sound wall of Neil Young and Crazy Horse, these 9 songs clock in at just over an hour and offer warm, patient worlds of heavy colour that blow by breezily. These are songs that wrap mysterious and urgent feeling in layers of patience and clarity that unfold anew with each timeless listen.

Swimming Paul’s music has always lived in the push-and-pull between euphoria and melancholy; the rare kind of electronic music that can make you cry while your body keeps moving.



On Smiling Through the Pain 2 (out October 24 via Headroom Records), the French-born, London-based producer doubles down on that emotional duality, delivering an album that feels as much like a diary as it does a DJ set.

Over the course of 15 tracks, Paul stitches together late-night catharsis, suburban nostalgia, and the jagged tenderness of early adulthood. The record is sequenced like an unbroken night out: the giddy anticipation, the sudden moments of reflection, the quiet comedown as the sun edges in. It’s an album that refuses to treat joy and sadness as opposites, they coexist here, often in the same chord progression.



“I don’t want to escape the feelings, I want to bring them with me” Paul says. “If you can’t stop thinking about something, you might as well dance with it.”

That philosophy runs through the singles: the emotional release of Holly (with Junior Simba), the aching nostalgia of Different Time, the hypnotic haze of Hard 2 Sleep, and the house-driven Drinking to Get Drunk, a bittersweet ode to nights spent outrunning your own thoughts. Elsewhere, Liza M1 folds heartbreak into an almost triumphant piano hook, while Shine a Light urges listeners to take risks and live without hesitation—as if youth’s boldness could be bottled.



Since debuting in 2023, Swimming Paul has quietly built an empire on emotional resonance: 150 million streams across platforms, 1.9 million monthly listeners on Spotify and more than 50 editorial placements (including Dance Party, Crying on the Dancefloor, Electronic Rising….), 10,000+ radio spins worldwide, and sold-out tours across Europe and North America. His sound has earned co-signs from BBC Radio 1, Triple J, KCRW, Sirius XM and a wave of DJs who value melody as much as momentum.

But Smiling Through the Pain 2 isn’t chasing charts, it’s chasing connections. Paul’s global fanbase, nurtured through a lively Discord community and nights on the road, has become a two-way conversation, with fans’ stories feeding back into the music’s emotional core.
This autumn, Paul takes the album to stages that match its ambition, from London to a string of US club dates, festivals and intimate pop ups designed for shared release.



Smiling Through the Pain 2 is an invitation to feel everything at once. To sweat through the sadness. To let your guard down under strobe lights. To realise that the best nights out don’t make you forget; they help you remember.

Following releases on Longform Editions and her own Paralaxe imprint, Dania descends on Somewhere Press with crepuscular, quixotic pop that hits a sweet spot between Mark Clifford’s Cocteau Twins remixes and Massive Attack.

Parked next to Alliyah Enyo, Slowfoam, and Angel R, Dania’s found an ideal home at Somewhere Press, and »Listless« is her most confident, transcendent set to date. Her last few albums were steeped in meaning – a way for the Iraq-born, Tasmania-raised artist to explore her identity and probe the impacts of colonisation. Here, she gives herself more room to breathe, thriving in the mysteries of nighttime – a direct reference to her nocturnal existence as an emergency doctor in Australia. The album was completely composed in the midnight hours, but it’s not self-consciously dark in the way you might expect. Opening track »On a Grassy Knoll« is one of the prettiest – and poppiest – tracks Dania has released, cracking open her voice with thrumming harmonies that she complements with granulated, Guthrie-esque guitars and, most unexpectedly, half-speed drums. It’s the first time Dania’s used percussion, and it suits her extremely well.

In fact, even when the powdery breaks drop away in the album’s final breaths, you can almost hear an outline of where they might remain. On »Write My Name«, Dania loops her voice between waved strings and slippery piano phrases, and the hypnotic closer »A Hunger« is a thudding, sub-heavy 4/4 away from being Peak Oil-style contemporary dub techno.

But the big draw here is Dania’s batch of hazy dream-pop miniatures, like the Seefeel-adjacent »Heart Shaped Burn« (with Rupert Clervaux on drums), and the Bristolian »Car Crash Premonition«, that features a rolling bassline taking us right back to 1998. Very strong – peak listening if you’re into Bowery Electric, MBV, or Mark Van Hoen.

“Coming To You Love” is a classic and ever popular jazz funk and soul release from 1980. From its original release, the LP and 12” versions have dominated, this 7” version only recently coming to light as a different take on the track with a bonus Charles Earland organ solo. Since the realization of its existence, the previously styrene only US Columbia 7” has exchanged hands for increasingly higher amounts.
Charles came from Philadelphia, played sax first with Jimmy McGriff before turning to organ in the late 60s and earning a nickname ‘The Mighty Burner’
During his time at Mercury records he scored a hit song with the disco record “Let The Music Play”, building an audience with a jazz funk and soul crowd which exists to this day through numerous other releases on Mercury and then Columbia through to his passing in 1999.

Moving freely through time and space via experimental DIY recordings since 2009, Joasihno return with their fourth album "Spots".

“Find your spot in the shade,” a truly laid-back and incredibly soft-spoken MC once advised, yet in a world that seems to get shadier every day, it’s probably time to finally get out and face the sun. Southern German experimental pop duo Joasihno – initial solo founder Cico Beck (The Notwist, Aloa Input, Spirit Fest) and drummer/composer Nico Sierig (Instrument, Fehler Kuti) – seem to know exactly when it’s time to shine. Idiosyncratic genre tweakers since day one, they have been operating at their own pace, mostly staying in their own shady corner. Yet, almost a decade after their most recent “Meshes” (an album that came with a whole legion of tiny music robots), it’s high time for them to take over more corners, to reclaim even more spots between lo-fi and sci-fi, retro electronica and contemporary classic. Drawing upon influences as varied as Reich, Riley, and Ryuichi, múm, Meek, and Moondog, while also nodding to other experimental twosomes (e.g. The Books), the duo’s fourth full-length “Spots” is set to arrive via Alien Transistor in late 2025.

Leaving soulless automation and all things artificial to others, Joasihno launch the latest record on “2 Squares” that feel like a peaceful, almost bucolic version of retro space age: lights blink ever so softly as easy-going bass tones point at today’s introspective flight arc. Electronic shapes align and things lift off – with a majestic 8-bit sunrise soon appearing right in front of us. Whereas playful title song “Spots” is a miniature Rube Goldberg kind of device, with quirky plucked strings and glitches setting off more and more contraption layers, “Crackleboom” is uncharted energy, an open landscape, an expanding bonfire that leads to a long-forgotten piano, all dust-covered in some kind of saloon. Space might be only noise to others, here, it’s foreboding screeches (“Dizzle Whistle”) that make room for A-side center piece “Forest Lights”: a steady beat that lures us to a clearance in the woods. Things break and shatter in the distance, but this spot right here is for hypnosis, dancing, sylvan spirits. And yeah, it’s surprisingly hot down here in the undergrowth…

Opening side B with a fun banger that takes the unhinged dancing to the playground – “Characa Orb.” feels like French kids on swings going crazy, a tipsy, tongue-in-cheek electro blow-out between Oizo and Orbis Tertius –, things get even more cinematic throughout the second half. Even the cheapest, lo-fiest gear is sufficient to make “The Slow Hour” glow like true, timeless pop royalty. In fact, the very same pop spirits roam and celebrate freely in the chirpy coves of mesmerizing “Detune Lagoon” – more hand-crafted sci-fi/lo-fi loops you’ll only find after facing the ghosts of Lynch or Sakamoto on those night-time trails under the “Deep Moon”. It’s all DIY spots, spots that leave room to dream or dangle, drape yourself over or dive into. Returning to the leafy bower on a melancholy post rock tip, we eventually learn that “Death Is Real” – and so we’re left with a laterna magica that turns and turns and turns. It’s a beautiful spot where light and shadows keep on dancing, just like they’ve always done, ever since the dawn of this madcap universe.

Recorded in concert at the University of Sheffield in March 2025, Reality Is Not A Theory is the first collaboration between Mark Fell and Pat Thomas. Major figures in British experimental music since the 1990s, Fell and Thomas have developed their rigorous practices from radically different backgrounds and perspectives: where Fell’s singular take on synthetic abstraction emerged from Sheffield’s electronic underground, Thomas is a virtuoso improvising pianist steeped in jazz and modernist art music who has simultaneously worked with sampler-based electronics for decades. As the record’s wonderfully academic subtitle explains, we are presented here with two sides of ‘algorithmic and improvised music for computer and piano’, exemplifying both players’ insatiable search for new (and sometimes uncomfortable) playing situations.

The performance begins with Fell’s electronics close to the timbres of acoustic percussion, attacks that suggest wood, metal or glass threaded along a rapid pulse while Thomas focuses on the lowest registers of the piano, deadening the strings. As Fell’s electronics start to ring out and occupy more harmonic space, Thomas turns to wide, repeated clusters, which slowly expand into patterns of chords. Like in his recent solo recordings and his trio work with Joel Grip and Anton Gerbal, Thomas’ playing combines extreme dissonance with a deep lyrical sense. Fell’s work gradually shifts its focus toward drum sounds, drawing on the microtemporal processes that have characterized his practice in recent decades. Heard together with Thomas’ probing piano, the computer sounds call up unexpected associations with the klangfarben antics of improv drummers like Paul Lovens or Tony Oxley. Throughout its second half, the music grows increasingly frenetic, as Thomas sounds out rapid, irregularly repeated figures and beautifully sour chords in the upper register, while Fell’s percussion develops into angular pan-pipe-like feedback and waves of glissandi.

With great confidence and patience, Fell and Thomas often let their individual contributions remain rhythmically distinct and unsynchronised, allowing unexpected correspondence and coincidence to guide the music’s development. Recorded in a hall named after Sheffield steel manufacturer and Master Cutler Mark Firth, the location might suggest a model for understanding how Fell and Thomas interact here: two workers in the same workshop, each immersed in their own part of the production process. Arriving in a striking sleeve designed by Mark Fell, with liner notes by Francis Plagne, Reality Is Not A Theory is an invigorating document of the meeting of two mavericks of contemporary music.

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

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

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

A decade after its original release, Flako"s seminal debut album Natureboy returns for its first-ever reissue on vinyl in a special 10th anniversary edition. In 2015, Natureboy emerged as a rare bloom in the electronic underground - a record that defied genre and expectation. Hailed by Bleep as "one of the most startlingly unique and original releases" and crowned their Album of the Year, it still stands as one of the most singular, emotive, and genre-defying releases of its era.

The brilliantly named duo - formed by Adam Morrow and Jamie Sego - might be based in "the hit recording capital of the world", Muscle Shoals, Alabama, but somehow, they have made a concept album about the ancient religious outpost off the coast of northeast England. It's a stunning record that mixes fuzzy guitars with folk horror and fantastic melodies - for fans of Ride, Slowdive, Galaxie 500, Talk Talk, Yo La Tengo and The Clientele. Despite its lyrical inspiration lying thousands of miles away, it comes imbued with the soulfulness of their surroundings - not least because it was recorded in the old Muscle Shoals Sound studio by the Tennessee River, now Portside Sound, which is run by Jamie. "The story of Lindisfarne gave us a framework for what were otherwise very abstract ideas and emotions," explains Adam. "It became a way to make sense of our own moment in history. We really want our lives and societies to always get better, and to be left alone to make that happen. But we are stuck in these cycles of progress and regression, and I think most people are really driven to make sense of it and assign meaning. Lately, we've lived through a global pandemic, a devaluation of truth and reality, and a resurgence of far-right politics into the mainstream. Not really what I expected out of life in 2025." He is keen to point out that, despite the seriousness of its inspirations, the duo had a lot of fun making the album and really want it to be "a living and breathing thing". "We want people to be able to engage with it regardless of whether they care about it as a concept record," he says. "For me, it's just another reason to expand the pedalboard," concludes Jamie. "We hope you enjoy it. Peace, love and reverb from Alabama." Coloured Vinyl LP, and Bonustrack CD available, this version is `Lindisfarne Sky' Blue & White Vinyl and adds a postcard.

2025 Repress

“UR wonders” What happens to jazz if combined with the current electronic sound tools used to make Detroit techno now?
What might Jazz sound like if the inspirational pioneers of fusion ie; Return to Forever, Astral Pirates or Weather Report had access to the music production technology available now or in the future?
The artform called Jazz was a unique reflection of “The African American experience here in the United States.Unfortunately by the 90″s it had been compromised by major record companies and made “smoother” for mainstream consumption and more profits.
Born in America’s rural black south Rock & Roll had suffered the same fate years earlier. Original artists eventually replaced by well studied clones and corporate mega profits!! Also happening the original artform of jazz appeared to be caught, processed & throughly EXPLAINED by people who sought to intellectualize “struggle & human emotion” into mere words and then benefit immensely financially by being authorities on the subject.
Hmm sound familiar?

As you watch the current intellectual colonization of the urban inner city African American art forms house music, hip-hop, Jungle & Detroit techno get studied, bent, twisted renamed and turned into EDM profit formulas.

There stands records like Nation 2 Nation that defy these definitions and inspire the next generation of Pioneers who continue the undefined exploration of Jazz like Derek Jamerson, Jon Dixon, Raphael Merriweathers, Desean Jones, Timeline, Galaxy 2 Galaxy, Raphael Statin & Ian Finkelstein. Mother to daughter, Father to son,

Nation 2 Nation a work inspired and that inspired what’s next.

NOW Music proudly presents the next release in our “NOW That’s What I Call An Era” series – NOW That's What I Call An Era - Disco: 1973-1980 – a dazzling celebration of the golden age of disco.



This stunning 3LP set, pressed on blue, violet and pink vinyl, showcases 48 essential tracks that lit up the dancefloors, charts, and airwaves at the height of disco fever — an era when glittering anthems, euphoric grooves, and iconic vocal performances defined nightlife around the world.



LP1 opens in iconic style with Chic’s monumental ‘Le Freak’ followed by Sister Sledge’s equally legendary ‘We Are Family’, and Gloria Gaynor’s empowering #1 ‘I Will Survive’. Anthems follow from Sylvester with ‘You Make Me Feel (Mighty Real)’ and Chaka Khan with ‘I’m Every Woman’, ahead of the timeless ‘Young Hearts Run Free’ by Candi Staton and the first side finishes with production by Chic’s Nile Rodgers and Bernard Edwards on massive hits for Diana Ross with ‘Upside Down’, and Sheila & B. Devotion with ‘Spacer’. Flip the LP over for Amii Stewart’s version of ‘Knock On Wood’ followed by The Three Degrees, Eruption and the first smash from Boney M., ‘Daddy Cool’. The Village People topped the chart with ‘YMCA’ which has become an enduring party favourite, which leads to the infectious ‘Let’s All Chant’ from the Michael Zager Band, Lipps Inc. with ‘Funkytown’ and to close the first LP, sci-fi disco from Dee D. Jackson with ‘Automatic Lover’.



LP2 begins with Donna Summer’s epic version of ‘MacArthur Park’, before Earth, Wind & Fire with The Emotions bring pure euphoria on ‘Boogie Wonderland’, and McFadden & Whitehead with the floor-filling ‘Ain’t No Stoppin’ Us Now’. Great vocals from Marvin Gaye and Harold Melvin & The Blue Notes come ahead of George McCrae’s ‘Rock Your Baby’, one of the collections’ earliest and inspirational moments. UK artist Tina Charles hit the top with ‘I Love To Love’, and Andrea True Connection complete the side with the ear-worm ‘More More More’ whilst over on the other side legends Frankie Valli & The Four Seasons hit dancefloor gold and the #1 spot with ‘December, 1963 (Oh, What A Night)’, ahead of The Trammps with their era-defining ‘Disco Inferno’. A Taste Of Honey, Grace Jones and a second appearance from Diana Ross are up next – before the LP closes with an enduring classic, ‘Follow Me’ from Amanda Lear, Patrick Juvet’s ‘I Love America’, and Frantique with ‘Strut Your Funky Stuff’.



LP3 bursts to life with the international smash and UK #1, ‘Yes Sir, I Can Boogie’ from Baccara, before a huge hit cover from Belle Epoque with ‘Black Is Black’. Next; Alicia Bridges, Rose Royce and UK chart toppers The Real Thing, ahead of funk-infused disco brilliance from Kool & The Gang and Barry White – whilst the side closer is Yvonne Elliman’s ‘If I Can’t Have You’, from the Saturday Night Fever soundtrack and over on the final side there’s a stellar run of Disco nuggets: kicking off with Elton John’s irresistible ‘Are You Ready For Love’, originally released in 1979 and a #1 in 2003 along with ‘Boogie Nights’ from Heatwave, The Emotions with ‘Best Of My Love’, and LaBelle’s influential ‘Lady Marmalade’. The anthemic ‘Got To Be Real’ from Cheryl Lynn is next ahead of the trio of closing tracks: Odyssey with the sublime ‘Native New Yorker’, Thelma Houston’s Grammy-winning ‘Don’t Leave Me This Way’, and fittingly, Donna Summer’s iconic ‘Last Dance’, ending the collection in perfect style.



An unforgettable journey through the songs that defined the dancefloor: NOW That’s What I Call An Era – Disco: 1973-1980 — the definitive celebration of disco’s golden age.

"The machine looms—it watches you from within. The finger points, but the face is missing."

The Bristol/Amman connection just got even deeper… following DBL's impressive string of Avon-infused heaters (check the recent scorchers from Nzumbe, Content Provider and 2023's 'Weld'). And we're well informed there's even more of this cross-continental greatness to come…

But first...

Kinlaw & Franco Franco. ATC's original prodigal sons. A two-headed nephilim with an ever-growing tally of near-biblical performances – leaving shook audiences coughing dust for months after. Resurrected for 2025.

Those familiar know their hallowed-dogma – brimming with cyberpunk prophetics, surveillance state paranoia and rusted gothic futurism. Each chilling sermon accompanied by a bespoke blend of crusted sonics, taut future-concrète prangers and only the finest industrial-trappist beats.

Back with renewed precision. 11 hot-kneelers for your mental.

On 'Faith Elsewhere', they lead the congregation into uncharted waters with pop-confessional, 'Pitstop 2024'. There's a fresh revamp of the beloved feudal anthem, 'Crocs on the Plough'. Next, a long-fermented, yet still refreshing, kind of chamber-wave on the album's self-titled track. And there's even a touch of the devotional in the final ethereal reprise… Plus, there are plenty more teachings to be found elsewhere…

The writing's on the wall. Accept no false idols. Now pull up your cushion and kneel at their altar. It might just be their best yet….

"In the holiness of their temples, unsuspecting worshippers were being observed by indiscreet eyes."

For our ninth offering we have ventured out of our small but fertile swamp in search of another source of magick. Meandering across boggy pastures new, we crossed paths with Steevio, who sat hovering serenely in the fern covered shade of a nearby valley. Instantly recognising the singular vision of this fabled artist, we hastily gathered our nets and cast them under Steevio’s branches, capturing four beautiful offerings as they wriggled towards us. Upon the return to our mulch, it became clear that we could not contain Steevio’s creations, so willful was their vitality. It was therefore all we could do to release them back to the universal dance from whence they came.

The dance germinates with the writhing polyrhythmic ‘Apricity’. Hearing the crunch of frost laden grass beneath our webbed toes, we look above us to search for the sun. Angular beams of light escape over the horizon, as the warmth of Steevio’s machines coalesce. A glistening hi hat breaks through the membrane to bind his creation and anchor its ever shifting arms.

‘Octopus’ glides gracefully through a sun-dappled kelp forest. Sub frequencies rumble up from the shadowy darkness below, rippling along the fronds as they ascend. As the ocean begins to churn, a wriggling melodic tentacle parts the foliage, gleaming with primordial energy. Its joyful visit to the surface realm leaves us with a brief yet powerful reminder of the mystery beneath.

The glow of the midwinter sun warms our bones on ‘Apricity (Sunrise Mix)’. Percussive elements bubble out of the depths, forming intricate cascading patterns as they grow over the perfectly formed kicks. The moog filter tames the brew with Steevio’s intuitive restraint , until he releases its mighty power upon the gleeful forest dwellers, to their rapturous gratitude.

With ‘Adref’ we return home. The sedate tempo provides oceanic space for a melody which inhales and exhales over a familiar landscape of perfectly tuned percussion. With each breath the melody seems to increase its reach, until it’s buried deep within our bones, its memory resonating on long after it’s gone.

Steevio’s music reflects the universal moments where seemingly chaotic and disparate elements are suddenly revealed to be perfectly harmonious. Of course examples of this are always universally present in nature, and have been eternally, but we have to be reminded to appreciate them. In the same way that a wave deposits a perfect line of shells on a beach, dew freezes on grass, or individual strands of mycelial hyphae bind together to form incredible patterns, Steevio’s music is likewise; effortlessly considered. For us, it has more in common with the unrelenting flow of a river than it does with dance music. It is psychedelic music in the same sense that nature is intuitively psychedelic; without ever leaning into any tried tropes of what is culturally considered ‘psychedelic’ music.

2025 Repress!

Recorded in a remote cabin on the Devon coast, STILL OUT is an album-length collaboration between musician-filmmakers – and childhood friends – Will Cookson and Tom Haverly. A reflection on friendship, landscape and the passing of time, it inspired a road trip from North Yorkshire to North Devon they took together in the summer of 2024, and forms the soundtrack to a film of the same name which had its premiere screening as part of Stroud Film Festival in March 2025.

Like the film, STILL OUT is also an oblique homage to The KLF’s iconic 1990 album Chill Out, which the Gloucestershire-based pair revisited after it turned up unexpectedly a few years back in Tom’s dad’s record collection. Inspired to create their own recording using a similarly free-spirited process, Will and Tom relocated to the Devon coast in late summer 2023, splicing together a 40-minute mix from their personal archive of recordings and found sounds in a remote cabin with no electricity or mobile reception.

"It came together using cut-and-paste techniques, with ongoing shifts and tweaks,” says Will. “The final result was an audio collage that felt like something legendary hip hop producers The Bomb Squad might make - if ambient music was the only material in their sample library."

Using ‘ambient’ as a starting-point rather than an end in itself, they took inspiration from across the musical spectrum – classic-period Brian Eno, Philip Glass, Bill Evans, plus outliers such as 80s singer-songwriter Virginia Astley and the late DJ-producer Andrew Weatherall. The connections, though, are anything but obvious as the audio shifts seamlessly from field recordings and spoken-word interludes to mood pieces and snatches of vintage pop.

Edited and assembled using freely available open source programs, the source material was often radically altered using tools such as “PaulStretch”, a digital sound-morphing algorithm that allows users to stretch audio files to extreme lengths.

"When we found ourselves in a creative slump or unsure how to navigate a tricky part, we'd say, ‘Let's put some syrup on it and slow it down,’” says Tom. “That always helped us get back on track during late-night recording sessions at the cabin."

Part-soundtrack, part-meditative experiment, STILL OUT is intended as a reflection on the mental and emotional shift that occurs when stepping away from the routine of daily life – an album that forms a celebration of our ever-changing relationship to the world around us and the mystery of what it means to pass through time and space.

“The true follow up, 35 years later, to The KLF’s ‘Chill Out’”.
JD Twitch (Optimo).

An ambient journey reflecting on friendship, the British landscape - and The KLF’s landmark album Chill Out

"This record and film are just lovely. You need this in your life. Moo-Moo!” Balearic Mike (Down To The Sea & Back)

"The album is a perfect companion to the KLF classic, utilising the British countryside as the setting, occasionally reminding you that Mother Nature is not to be messed with.” Strictly Kev (DJ Food)

"A beautiful ambient journey into the landscape, taking the listener from reality to dream state and back again. A mystical realm full of mysterious chanting, rattling trains and sounds from the very depths of the earth."
Lally MacBeth & Matthew Shaw (Stone Club)

Going Up, originally released in 1983, is one of the most curious and enduring records from British studio mavericks The RAH Band. Long out of print, it now sees its first ever vinyl reissue courtesy of Shocking Music and Rush Hour.

Led by super-producer, arranger, and multi-instrumentalist Richard Anthony Hewson, The RAH Band has always existed just outside the mainstream. Blending jazz-funk, sci-fi synth pop, and cosmic lounge, their sound never quite fit the mould. That might explain the cult status they’ve held ever since. Beloved by Balearic heads, rare groove collectors, and adventurous synth diggers, Going Up is perhaps their most influential record.

At the centre of it all is the intro track “Messages From The Stars”, the band’s runaway cosmic hit. A spacey, retro-futurist groove that has become a viral favourite in recent years, it now boasts hundreds of millions of streams, with a new generation discovering it through TikTok and YouTube. But it was originally just one track on this understated 1983 album.

The rest of Going Up is just as compelling, filled with dusty drum machines, off-kilter instrumentals, woozy vocals, and that unmistakable early '80s charm. It is a snapshot of a band in transition, blurring the lines between leftfield pop, sci-fi funk, and home-brewed synth experiments.

Out of print for over 40 years, Going Up finally gets the reissue treatment it deserves. Restored and remastered, and still sounding like nothing else.

Unchained is the long-standing guitar-based project of Nate Davis, originally from Providence, RI, and based in France for over a decade. In his two most recent LPs—Gabbeh (2024, A Colourful Storm) and Frontalier (2025, Stern Records)—Davis strives to describe a new path for outsider jazz instrumentalism that remains committed to harmonic and rhythmic form while placing greater emphasis on sonic texture through experimental production techniques.

Release Description:

Unchained—a name which at the project's inception or on earlier recordings spoke perhaps to the ecstatic saturation of high gain guitar—has over the past three albums (N.D. Visitor, Pic, and Gabbeh) come to represent more and more an acknowledgement of and sensitive remove from a crashing world. An excuse of oneself from trend towards a siloed artistic development.

On Frontalier, Nate Davis crosses further into this patient personal lexicon of guitar composition, presenting a new set of richly developed songs and leaps in arrangement which may very well shock Unchained fans the world over. The sympathetic geometric guitar themes of the earlier second-period Unchained style are almost entirely absent, making way for a fully realized presentation of the jazz, MPB, and fusion influence present to varying degrees on the previous three albums. Davis's keen sense of melody and songcraft have never been stronger, here landing on music which is at moments evocative of Wes Montgomery, Allan Holdsworth, Jobim, or the jazzier impulses of Lô Borges. Distinct in Davis's music, however, is what these references might belie: an innate tending towards repetition as an affective tool—one which has less to do with the aesthetics of the scene from which the project emerged than it does with devotional prayer. In this way it feels as if Unchained has always been music for living. What was once a maximalist expression of youth has matured into the sound of living with and in the world and an empathic transmuting of all the joy, disappointment, and ambivalence that comes with it. Songs that feel like the sort of thinking one does looking out the window on a long train ride, or the routinism of internal and external life and the breaking out of it. As much as it will be recognized by the fandom as a significant step forward, Frontalier serves also as a perfect gateway for new listeners to the singular music of Unchained.

First chapter of a futuristic dub experiment series by The 18th Parallel. Geneva based collective invites engineer extraordinaire Roberto Sánchez to revisit 10 scorcher riddims from the Fruits Records vault to craft this inventive modern classic. Reminiscent of the greatest dub albums by King Tubby, Scientist, Prince Jammy, or Lee ‘Scratch’ Perry.

Fruits Records presents the first volume of a series of dub albums by Swiss collective The 18th Parallel. Following in the tradition of Jamaican producers who revisited their catalogues in dub versions, such as Bunny Lee and his Aggrovators with King Tubby, Junjo Lawes or Linval Thompson teaming up with Roots Radics and Scientist, or Joe Gibbs and his Professionals with Errol Thompson, Fruits Records is launching a series of dub albums produced by the label's studio band, The 18th Parallel, which will invite different sound engineers to (re)mix the tracks throughout the albums: DUB AVALANCHE. This first volume offers a deep dive into the label's catalogue through ten classic or unreleased riddims revisited by Fruits Records' long-time partner, Spanish sound engineer extraordinaire Roberto Sánchez. The instrumentals are brilliantly performed by The 18th Parallel and punctuated by the voices of legendary artists such as The Viceroys, Lone Ranger, Cornell Campbell, and Dennis Walks, who appear fleetingly before disappearing into clouds of echo. Roberto Sánchez performs ten explosive, creative sound deconstructions, playing with stylistic codes to stimulate our memory and offer a timeless sensory experience.
Like the classics of the genre, the cover art evokes a quirky retro-futuristic imaginary space where, breaking with convention, the talent of Mexican artist Melissa Santamaría is expressed through a striking metaphor of a sonic avalanche.

DUB AVALANCHE VOL. 1 is already establishing itself as a future must-have for fans of uncompromising reggae and dub!

"The five-year anniversary release of Orion Sun’s Hold Space For Me, pressed on tangerine vinyl. Her story, that of an early 20s woman of color dealing with and learning about life's obstacles and celebrations, is understood best through her song lyrics; citing J Dilla, Nancy Wilson, Jodeci, Kirk Franklin, Hazel Scott and Digable Planets as just some of her many influences. She's a career artist with a long road ahead and her sound defies trends; capitalizing on a velvety and familiar voice with timeless jazz / folk / R&B instrumentals.

“...a pinch-yourself song that steps lightly with the thrill of a love seemingly too good to be true (and the fear that it might be)” – Philadelphia Inquirer on “Ne Me Quitte Pas”

“stark and lightly poetic.” – Pitchfork

“A smooth, serene downbeat groove and a blissed vocal finds Orion Sun singing about sudden and deep connection — “It feels so good to know ya” — and despite the sadness implied in the title, the outlook is positive and pure.” – WXPN/The Key on “Ne Me Quitte Pas”

“While the track shares the same title as covers done by Nina Simone, Regina Spektor, and Wyclef Jean, she presents a completely different vibe, slowing down a flipped sample with smooth guitar loops and resonating drums. Still, with all of the stellar instrumentation, the 23-year-old’s voice cuts through as poignant as ever.” – Refinery 29 on ”Ne Me Quitte Pas”"

Das dritte Album der Londoner Band Sorry!

Seit ihrem Debüt "925" 2020 arbeiten Sorry an einer Topografie aus Anspielungen, Zitaten, falschen Fährten. Nun, mit COSPLAY (ab 7. November bei Domino), reißen sie die Landkarte ab, zeichnen alles neu. Ein Album als Maskenball: Jede Figur darf hier auftreten, lebend oder tot, real oder erdacht. Es ist das Werk, das Sorry von sich selbst befreit. Das Album fühlt sich an wie ein Spielzimmer für popkulturelle Geister. Ein Guided by Voices-Song mutiert zur Ballade über die Schmuddelecken des Ruhms, die berühmteste Cartoonfigur der Welt schleicht sich als Sirene ins Bild, theoretische Physik wird zu Rockmusik, die schwerer schlägt als jede Formel. Sorry haben das neue Material bereits live erprobt, erst auf eigener UK-Tour, dann als Support von Fontaines D.C., und man hört die Mischung aus Selbstsicherheit und Übermut, die dabei gewachsen ist.

"Love it! Electronic wonkiness at its finest" - Richard Norris (The Grid)

TEA, CAKES AND THE (WO)MAN MACHINE

Curtain Twitcher could only have emerged from Sheffield.
A female electronic duo whose corrupted downtempo post Balearic chug pulses and wobbles, throbs and twitches - full of fat noises and bolshy Moogery.
It's human and appealingly analogue. More Delia Derbyshire's Radiophonic Workshop than DAF, More Tangerine Dream than Depeche Mode. Not your average bloketronica.

Frankly this music doesn't behave itself in any way you might expect. Plugged in post rave pop can be far too orderly. Music should be messy. Even on occasion revealing a tune your mum could hum.

"Leap The Dips" emerged from machine jamming with a creative freedom that only comes from friendship. That friendship is a musical one but it's also real and genuine: "We’ll talk about pretty much owt if you provide the tea and cakes".

Acclaimed electronic musicians, producers and sound architects Max Cooper and Rob Clouth team up for a new collaborative EP; a dark, playful four-track dive into ambient, breakbeat and techno’s subconscious flow, featuring a standout vocal performance from South London rapper FLOHIO.

Recorded over a series of spontaneous London sessions, “8 Billion Realities” channels years of creative exchange between two of the genre’s most quietly innovative artists and is a result of a decision between the longtime friends to refrain from conceptual overthinking in favour of instinct and joy.

As long-time admirers of each other’s audio/visual work, Cooper and Clouth collaborated in London together after both emerging from intense, idea-heavy album cycles. What followed was a series of exploratory sessions, half-improvised, half-built around half-formed thoughts.

The result is a club-ready EP that feels alive and human: imperfect and hypnotically rich.

“Rob Clouth has been one of my favourite electronic music producers since I first heard his work in 2011,” says Cooper. “His work is more full of ideas and structure than anyone else.” “We were both coming from extensive conceptual studio albums and both in the mood for simplifying things and having some fun with the music, so that’s what we did”.

For Clouth, no stranger to Max Coopers Mesh label having previously released an array of EP’s plus his 2020 debut album “Zero Point” this record marks a new chapter, both creatively and personally.“Something pretty new for me is collaborating,” he says. “You kind of have to when to stop, because if you develop an idea all the way to its endpoint, the other person has nowhere to jump in.”

The first “A Moment Set Aside” began as a break from another idea, a live, unplanned improvisation based around arps and ambience. “The track was written in about as long as it took to play it,” says Cooper. “It was pulled from a 1 hour recording session, more or less as you hear it… the energy and excitement grew as the unplanned moment bore some magic.”

“The lesson being that sometimes it’s helpful to set aside a moment without forcing results, and let the subconscious have something to say.” What followed was darker, heavier. “Asymptote” is detuned techno. Subversive and euphoric in its descent. “We found a sort of brain mangling, half consonant, half wandering detuned techno pulse, which we started chatting about being a sort of pit of spiralling body parts we were falling into,” says Cooper. “It was a lot of fun to work on and let loose with bigger kicks than I usually ever get to unleash.”

Then came “8 Billion Realities”, featuring a standout rap performance from FLOHIO; an emerging figure in the UK grime and rap scene. The track was inspired by conversations about algorithmic echo chambers and hyper-personalised online worlds. Frantic, direct, and South London to the core, FLOHIO brings this tension to life. Her sharp, intense flow cuts through distortion and rhythm, landing the track somewhere between chaos and control instantly making it one of the most striking moments in either artist’s catalogue. “A different reality for all 8 billion of us,” says Cooper. “We weren’t sure if it would work… but there was something about the energy of the percussive idea and the story which felt like it might fit.” “Then FLOHIO had a play with it and straight off the bat absolutely killed it, not just with the lyrics and energy, but the harmonising too, it was a beautiful process.”

The final piece on the EP “Candeleda” originated from Clouth’s solo experiments with a live rig made entirely of vocals and keys, using his self-developed “cheatbox” system. “He put forward a beautiful stumbling melodic sequence which we bounced back and forth adding harmonies and synth layers,” says Cooper. “It rounds off a collection covering some of the breadth of music that we both love.”

The word "amateur" originates from the Latin word "amator," meaning "lover" or "admirer". This Latin term is derived from "amare," which means "to love". The French adopted "amateur" from Latin, and the English then borrowed it from French, initially retaining the sense of someone who loves or is devoted to something. Over time, the English usage of "amateur" also developed a meaning related to a lack of professional skill or experience. How did a word derived from love become a slur? Is love really so defenseless? They say love conquers all, but in reality isn’t love quite ridiculous? It has no intention, no motive, no agenda. How could it possibly prevail? It can’t be bought or sold, or so they say.Its mere existence can't be proven or even measured. What an impossible thing. Trying and failing, time and time again, no wonder cynicism always seems to win. I see “amateurism” as a delighted, even foolish, protest. Protest against everything. Of what’s expected of someone, or expected of someone to desire or strive for. To be elite, to be expert, to be professional, to be a master, to excel and succeed. Where’s the joy in that? I just want to have fun. I want to want. I want to love. And keep doing it, forever. I want to have fun, even when it’s tiring and sometimes even heaven is boring as hell. I want to be bad. I want to do my own thing. “I vant to be alone”. I want to be someone so dedicated to their passion that it starts to seem like there’s something wrong with them. All the way. We can take it all the way, and never get it back. ” - Molly Nilsson Amateur is the 12th studio album by Molly Nilsson. Deep in the teeth of a career that threatens to tip into something resembling a “legacy,” Molly Nilsson celebrates with an album recorded instinctively, quickly and bursting with so many moments of emotional brilliance and clarity it may be her greatest yet. Hers has been a career spent reaching out, perennially powerful in her earnestness, a warrior ridiculously defenceless and armed with a glittering sincerity. Shearing herself of the machinations of the music industry, recording at home, writing direct to the heart. Amateur is a jubilee for losers. A treatise in 13 songs, Amateur states clearly that we should live our life with eternal curiosity, offers us an open hand of comradeship out of the rat race. The songs on the album are both some of the most personal of Nilsson’s career and the most anthemic. First single How Much Is The World asks us to re-evaluate value in the face of a Neo-liberal system squeezing the life out of our loves. Pulsing opener Die Cry Lie satirises the commercialisation of emotion in the form of a shout-along diss-track. With a pounding rhythm track held down by gorgeous chord changes, heartbreaker Valhalla carries the torch for the main themes of the album: never growing up, making mistakes with kindness, moving on. When the drums crash in on the line “It’s going to get better now, you’ll see, going to be much better off without me” there is a world of feeling swirling about in the vocal delivery. One reading of the track might be that it’s a break up song but the subtext is classic Molly Nilsson: by living truthfully, making mistakes, we’re active agents against the myriad oppressions of the world. All The Way takes the theme for a run into the eternal sunset. It’s a manifesto for living fully. “Take it all the way, and never get it back” - it’s the process that’s the important point. The journey not the destination. Big Life, follows on like a part 2: An ode not only to Molly Nilsson’s career of endless gigs, endless connections with people, it’s a massive ode for following your dreams, doing it yourself. Closer The Bitter End is a powerful anthem for friendship, another definition of love infused in Nilsson’s work, A beautifully poignant ode to comradeship til the end, it seems to be the songwriter approaching aging, approaching life’s inevitability with the same vigour and earnestness, the same love of life she enjoyed at the onset of her career. There are moments on Amateur shrouded in reverb, slightly out of focus, forcing the listener to step deeper into the Mollyverse.. Nilsson’s open-armed beseeching to the world permeates every beat, every chord. These are songs exploding with life: the chunky, aggressive bassline on the punker Get A Life can’t hide its massive, catchy chorus. The sweeping Swedish Nightmare might be a tongue-in-cheek self-reference, but at its heart it’s a song about the duality of living life large, what is a dream, what is a nightmare? Molly Nilsson says you can’t have one without the other, and why would you want to? Here’s to making mistakes.

In between the folds of ceremony and commonality lies a perennial spring of musical expression.

A statement along the time continuum, or a testament to the resilient resourcefulness embedded in that truth, forms the philosophical approach of this album – the first outing of Dídac.
Studying an extensive archive of instruments, artifacts, and field recordings at the Musée d’ethnographie de Genève—a space steeped in folkloric gesture – Dídac encountered a cosmos of liturgical music and folk song. Anchored in reverance for tradition and transformation alike, this album navigates the old-world Mediterranean lore through a post-modern ambient lens, threading drone, gentle rhythm, electroacoustic textures and the crude tactility of archival material into one woven tapestry.

Under the guidance of Dr. Madeleine Leclair, Dídac was invited to work within one of the world’s most extensive ethno- musicological archives—L’AIMP. In the saturated basements and tape-lined backrooms of the museum, he submerged himself in the sounds of ritual and rural life: wax cylinders from the Eastern Mediterranean, tapes of liturgical hymn, the worn edges of communal song.
In a makeshift studio on the fourth floor of the museum, he sifted through the hours of material he collected, gradually discovering that the archive was no static source – It did not dictate; rather, it served as a companion—offering not answers, but questions. Not a beaten track, but a cluster of sonic clues and riddles. Samples do appear occasionally, tenderly interwoven into the dialogue of the songs. In Dídac’s self-titled debut, the past is not worn as ornament or kitsch; it is listened to and responded to. The museum, its archives, and the visit to Geneva became a foundational culisse of sorts, igniting a myriad of rough cuts and improvisational outtakes.
Dídac, or Diego Ocejo Muñoz, was born in Madrid in 1994 to a family of both Catalan and Castilian origin.

Brought up in a religious household, the influence of the Catholic Church innately shaped the social fabric, schooling and daily life. This lingering dominance led the adolescent Diego into a path of rejection of everything sacramental, promptly resorting to subversion in the shape of grafitti, skateboarding and underground music. Only later in life, after a rigorous venture as an acid and electro producer, the Church re-emerged before him in new light, invoking a deep fascination for its mysticism, iconography and choral tradition.

Spain in general and Catalonia in particular, has long served as a crossroads of the eastern–western Mediterranean continuum, with many of its cultures sharing aspects of way of life and ceremony. At the MEG, Diego found himself puzzled with this realization, resulting in a sonic amalgamation that reaches farther away from the rugged mountains of Catalonia than you might perceive at first encounter.

The deeply embedded memory of rite and public ceremony, religious hymn and landscape—sieved through the undercurrent of personal re-emergence, forms the emotional topography of this album. The record does not trace this landscape; it inhabits it. Its repetitive mysticism and ambient, wide-eyed gaze could possibly evoke (perhaps redundant) comparisons to artists such as Dimitris Petsetakis, or Popol Vuh’s late 70’s cinema scores.
The delicate lines between the sacred and the secular – between memory and re-invention – serve as a cipher to understanding this album in its entirety. Titles like Malpàs Mines or Pantocrator’s Portal Outro nudge toward a folkloric and devotional bedrock—places where labor and spirituality coexist, where names preserve both dust and veneration.

Nevertheless, this is far from mere nostalgia. It is a reclamation — singing alongside the spirits of the past, nurturing what still hums beneath the soil. It is an intimate reflection on tradition, rebellion, adolescence, ceremony and fantasy – a pastoral contemplation on what once was and what is to be.