quête:mirror people

‘I Feel 4 U’ was written by Rui Maia in collaboration with Kyle Quest and marks a new chapter in the journey of Mirror People, the alter ego of the musician, producer, and DJ. The track further deepens the collaborative spirit and connection to dance music that have defined the project since its inception.

Recorded last year, the song blends elements of disco, funk, and electronic music in a composition shaped by rhythmic fluidity and Kyle Quest’s melodic vocal approach. João Cabrita contributes saxophone and backing vocals, reinforcing the track’s organic and collective character.

The 7″ only vinyl-exclusive B-side, “Gordon Glu,” is a journey through the warm and melodious trademark sound of Mirror People, drawing on classy synth-pop, Balearic influences, and organic, jazz-funk-inspired grooves.

Desert Island Broadcast, the new album from Mirror People—the project of Portuguese musician and producer Rui Maia—is out September 26 on vinyl and across all digital platforms. The release is accompanied by the single Any Color U Like, following the earlier teaser track Million Questions, unveiled on May 9.

Described by Maia as “a radio transmission from a desert island—an imaginary space where different styles and references meet and coexist,” the record completes a trilogy begun with Voyager (2015) and Heartbeats Etc. (2022). “I wanted to create an album that felt both familiar and unexpected, like a lost signal reaching the right listener at the right time. It’s a celebration of music as companionship, even in isolated places,” says Maia.

Written between 2022 and 2025, Desert Island Broadcast features longtime collaborators and special guests, including vocalist Rö (Maria do Rosário), percussionist Ryoko Imai, saxophonist João Cabrita, and backing vocalists Ana Vieira and Isa Gomes.

With a career that has resonated both in Portugal and abroad, Mirror People continues to assert its relevance in the independent scene, delivering captivating songwriting and meticulous production.

Mirror People is the alter ego of musician, producer, and DJ Rui Maia, also known as the keyboardist of X-Wife. Conceived as a collaborative project with artists from diverse cultural backgrounds, Mirror People explores the intersections of disco, funk, and electronic music.

diskJokke - Loving HowardCurses - Hell yeah. I vibe with this!
Jorkes - U la la. Thanks so much. superduper <3
Heidi Lawden - Nice release for all moods
Gameboyz - Slow and power. Thanks
Pete Herbert - Yes solid all round!
Chloe - Nice EP
Severino Panzetta (Horse Meat Disco) - Yeeeeees
Xinobi - Lisbon and Porto legends. Super cool tunes
DC Salas - Howard is big!
Mufti - Fantastic EP all around! Howard my favorite
Thomass Jackson - New Ears for me Thanks!

Long time friends and Lisbon-based Mirror People & OITO//OITO for the last 20 years have been lighting up dancefloors all over their native Portugal and beyond, with their passion for eclectic sounds as the main fuel for their sonic mission. ‘MP88’ marks their first EP together. ‘Howard’ opens with rugged 4/4 rhythms, acid squelches and meandering arps to set the tone, ‘New Ears’, takes things on saturated drums & fills, vintage stab sequences and enigmatic strings. Last but not least, is the dropped tempo acidic feel ‘Alive & Kicking’. Another flawless EP in OITO//OITO Discos, limited to 300 copies, this time in Yellow vinyl.

Previously released on CD accompanied by “Gone, Gone Beyond”, “The Mirror” is the
dreamy soundtrack of an a/v project from collage artist extraordinaire Vicki Bennett aka
People Like Us.

With ‘’The Mirror’’ Bennett continues her eternal disassembling of popular music by
exploring how the narrative of familiar sounds/songs can change dramatically under a
new context, with that context always changing, in a never-ending flow.

Each song is singular. And each song is a collage of and undefined number of other
songs from other artists. It sounds familiar because that has been the modus operandi of
People Like Us since the early 1990s. But “The Mirror” plays with the notion of familiar,
driving around a collection of famous pop songs/artists, messing around with the memory
of the listener and, of course, his unique comprehension of those specific songs applied
in a new context.

Because of the use of familiar pop sounds, “The Mirror” is often grandiose. Like an epic
film only with highs, never letting the listener down or letting him doubt the power of pop.
Even, of course, when the coordinates are twisted, mixed, over or underrepresented.
Each moment feels like something that could only happen in a parallel universe.

Although that may sound naïve, it’s just a lost thought of reaction to the beautiful collages
of People Like Us in “The Mirror”. This mirror doesn’t reflect an image of ourselves or an
image of pop. But an image on the way memories drift and are being constant rebuilt. An
unfinished collage.

Mastered by Mark Gergis
Vinyl Cut by Rashad Becker

Belgian artist Jennifur announces MAZDA, an album inspired by long car rides, emotional transitions, and the strange beauty of existing between places, people, and versions of yourself.

Musically, MAZDA moves fluidly between genres and emotional textures, blending electronic love songs, indie rock structures, UK bass influences, cinematic electronica, and flashes of classical composition.

The project began when Jennifur's brother sent him a playlist called MAZDA, filled with songs their father used to play in the car. What started as a nostalgia gesture quickly became the emotional blueprint for the album.

While writing MAZDA, Jennifur realized he was unknowingly creating the soundtrack to a fictional romcom film that existed only in his imagination. Rather than avoiding clichés like love, heartbreak, growing older, or transition, he chose to embrace them wholeheartedly.

"In a car, you exist in a kind of in-between space," Jennifur explains. "You've left something behind, but you haven't arrived yet. That feeling became the entire record."

The album opener, From A to B, sets the emotional framework for the entire project. Its extended introduction mirrors the exact moment you pull out of your street and realisethat something new has begun.

Highlights include "I Need You To Hold On", written for Jennifur's brother as a message of encouragement. The song "I Once Had a Dream Where I Could Fly" originated from a conversation with his father about recurring dreams of flying. Meanwhile, "From The Sideline" confronts a quieter existential fear, becoming a coming-of-age anthem for anyone who suddenly realizes they have become more of a spectator than an active participant in their own life.

Tracks like "In The Sun" bring a softer, almost cinematic intimacy to the album. Written around the image of spending one final Sunday at the seaside with someone who is seriously ill, the song captures the beauty and fragility of fleeting moments. The closing track "The Dialogue Before We Left" serves as the emotional final scene of the album.

"For me, it's the moment after a long drive when you turn off the engine but stay seated for a minute," Jennifur explains. "You realise something happened. You listened to my story, and we travelled from A to B together."

The mysterious Ceiling Chess label launches with a double header 12” single.

Weird sample-based garage laced with rumbling bass & chopped up loops designed for the rave.

This artist has set tongues wagging with people guessing which London based producer could be behind these enigmatic cuts.

Once upoun a time Fat Mike came up with the idea of calling up 101 of the best old and new punk rock band around, have them each record a 30-second long song, then put all the tracks out on one record to make the best punk compilation ever. And guess what, the dream came true. The 101 most famous punk rock bands around doing each a 30 seconds long song Back in print for the first time in ten years! Pressed to Lime Vinyl Features super rare songs (recorded exclusively for this compilation) by Green Day, The Offspring, Blink- 182, Pennywise, Rancid, Less Than Jake, The Vandals, Bad Religion, and more

A glorious night of no particular significance, Totally, the new album by Baba Stiltz. Recorded in Helsinki in studio with a drummer and overdubs committed in 5 days. Ballroom- sink songs of loss, grief, long drives on the I-5, centralized acquisitions, and corrective conditioning towards the prolonged effects of computerized lifestyles.

Every song looks you straight in the eyes, crooked and veering towards a light fixture off the side of the mirror. Ambivalence and assertions track us, down some gauzy networked afternoon. Relatively, perfectly, three dimensional. Proportions as they appear to us from outer intuition. Sometimes meaning is evoked through pure nothingness. Concealed and nothing known. We have no need for any paradise informed by anything beyond what is directly in front of us.

Stone repetition thwarts the possibility of control and surrenders itself to understanding. Who are we, and what are we trying to understand? To understand being universally greater than being understood. There are soap operas everywhere for those with eyes to see. You don’t have to look as hard as we currently look. The dramatic is everywhere, we breathe it unintentionally, then we come to hate it. Haptic, embodied facts of a tedious life lodged in the jowls of history. Everything under the
sky being the best bedlam has to offer. Your family, your relationships, your memory. As you eat a burger you are reminded of every sharp protrusion and corner under the florescent lights, the same lights you see when you’re born, and although unconfirmed, when you die.

Some of these songs were written years ago, some recently. The bookshelf and television set come into full view. Women/men come and go. Stars and poseurs collapse under their alienated contradictions, the search for truth yields to continued gradients of probability (collapse). Spatial order maintains itself through perceptional feeling. Silence, singing along to Roger Miller, people entering and leaving, figures hovering over you in your dreams and waking hours. Cool and fun, Totally

Text by Barrett Avner

Tenuous Links welcomes Torino’s very own VIOLA to the label with his new ‘Wrinkles’ EP. As the label owner of Reflue Records, VIOLA first caught my attention with his debut full-length release, a body of work that showcased a deep, rugged sound and a clear technical prowess shaped by his surroundings rugged coastlines and industrial landscapes of Torino in northern Italy. After speaking with Cristiano for over a year, it felt like a natural progression to bring his music to Tenuous Links. “The music I write almost always functions as a visceral soundtrack to whatever environment surrounds and infects me while I'm creating. Deeply rooted in the architectural contrasts of the places I’ve inhabited.”

‘Wrinkles’ is VIOLA’s second full-length body of work, yet the years of graft and dedication behind it are immediately apparent. Across three original tracks and a remix from London’s Jay Duncan, the EP delivers pure grit and crunch, inhabiting large, cavernous atmospheres grounded by pummelling bass, dynamic drums and intricate rhythmic detail.

The title track ‘Wrinkles’ is an ode to club spaces and the scene that revolves around them. Its broken rhythm channels the dancefloors of Cristiano’s formative years, spent partying in abandoned bunkers and warehouses in and around Torino. VIOLA explains: “Crafting such a raw, gritty bassline felt like an absolute necessity during the writing process, retracing memories of long nights spent dancing in silence.” The track’s cavernous atmosphere mirrors those pitch-black, unlit spaces, drawing us deeper and deeper into the abyss, with only brief glimmers of light offering reprieve from its relentless, all-enveloping bassline.

‘Mon Tom’ draws heavily from VIOLA’s hometown and his complicated relationship with Torino ,a city where tranquillity and beauty sit alongside heavy industry. The calm of the coastline is violently interrupted by vast steelworks and plumes of black smoke, leaving an imposing industrial mark on both the landscape and its people. The track reflects these contrasts. Metallic yet fluid, it moves at a faster pace, built around a driving 4/4 rhythm designed to suspend the listener while skittering percussion creates an increasingly uneasy sense of movement. It’s a meeting point between the beauty and brutality of the environment that inspired it.

‘P Maggiore’ was written between 2019 and 2020 while VIOLA was living in Rome’s chaotic Porta Maggiore district. Surrounded day and night by the grinding noise of trains, screeching tram brakes and beaten metal, he translated those raw auditory memories directly into high-pressure sound design. Yet, in contrast to the intensity of his surroundings, VIOLA deliberately pulls back the tempo.

Rounding off the EP is a skeletal remix of ‘Wrinkles’ from London’s Jay Duncan. She strips the original back into a techy, rolling cut, retaining its atmosphere and darkness while introducing a lighter touch of minimal-esque sound design. The result is a subtly transformed take on the title track that provides a fitting conclusion to the EP.

‘Wrinkles’ EP is a record shaped by place, by architecture, industry, memory and the physical spaces that leave their mark on us. From Torino’s industrial coastline to the chaos of Rome and the darkness of abandoned club spaces, VIOLA turns his surroundings into sound. Coming to vinyl and digital October 16th of October.

If you dig deep enough into the internet's lower depths, you'll find a shaky video shot on a camcorder. In 43 seconds, we see a makeshift drum kit built out of backyard Ostbahnhof trash, hear distorted vocals, and feel the anarchic energy of band and ravers dissolving into each other. It's now been twenty years since Bonaparte played their very first show at the legendary Bar25 on Berlin's Spree river. The ringmaster of this unhinged musical theater was Tobias Jundt then, and it's Jundt again now bringing the Bonaparte extravaganza back to the stage. New and nostalgic sit close together when the party's been going this long. Or, as they put it: "PARADISE IF YOU CAN STAND IT."

From late October through mid-November, Bonaparte will tour Germany, Austria, and Jundt's native Switzerland at full intensity, the full lineup - band to burlesque. Since their 2006 debut through their supposed farewell in 2019, Bonaparte played over 800 shows in 28 countries. Bottom line: "Too Much" isn't enough to properly celebrate a body of work like this. And the new songs from "PARADISE IF YOU CAN STAND IT" are far too significant not to bring to the stage. The lo-fi trash-punk of Bonaparte's earliest records has been built out with added layers, in production (largely alongside British avant-garde electronic artist HELiX) and in the songwriting itself.

The world certainly hasn't gotten any simpler since 2006. Tracks like "EVERYBODY PRESiDENT," loosely riffing on Zoe Leonard's poem "I Want A Dyke For President," and the corrosive "BRAiN ROT" mirror the social chaos we find ourselves in 2026. "OBEY (THERE iS STiLL A RiOT GOiNG ON)" is just as furious, though here the principle of hope still holds, as a multigenerational choir concludes "everything will be okay." Jundt speaks across generations again on "i LOVE YOU (MORE LATER)," dedicated in equal measure to his parents and his daughters: "Let the echo chamber bleed - from here into eternity."

The reconciliation and hope Bonaparte allows for and tends to, amid violence and all that noise, make "PARADISE IF YOU CAN STAND IT" a singular document of an artist grown wiser. Separation and grief don't cancel out love and vitality - they depend on each other. Ultimately, the album is a record of searching for and finding a home. To arrive, you have to let go.

And what better place to let go than in step with Bonaparte's wild, hedonistic party circus, finally back to gently terrorize our cities?

For over 25 years, David Madson (aka Odd Nosdam) has been stationed away from the light of the mainstream, diligently working the nightshift. Every so often, we awake to find another of his bleary and beautiful missives slung into the waking world – albums whose assemblages of sampled grooves, atmospheres and voices are unified by a hallucinatory sense of melody, like disparate visions strung together through ribbons of sleep-talk. From his earliest days as a member of the seminal group cLOUDDEAD, through his remixes for artists such as Boards of Canada and Black Moth Super Rainbow, Nosdam has been reporting back from his rounds upon the perimeters of culture and consciousness, forging a musical language all of his own.

On Patrol is the second Odd Nosdam LP to be released on The Notwist’s imprint Alien Transistor – following on from the 2019 album Mirrors – and continues a collaborative history that begun with a 2008 remix of The Notwist song, “Sleep”. It’s a love letter to the vinyl format, produced with the aim of optimizing for a single LP. This objective permeated every aspect of the album’s production, from the duration of each side through to the vinyl mastering (Jessica Thompson) and lacquer-cutting (Dubplates & Mastering, Berlin). As we've come to expect, the album is built almost entirely from found sounds, many of which were taken from obscure and second-hand vinyl gathered during Nosdam’s ceaseless crate-digging escapades. Other sources include field recordings made in 2022 at the Catalonia summer home of artist Salvador Dalí, which are baked into the swirling sci-fi glide of “Here to Know (Adéu Mix)”, and a sumptuous clunking bass line courtesy of Organi’s Mike Walti, which runs like an infinite highway through the fuzzy, sunbaked sprawl of “Deepsimple”.

Odd Nosdam’s work has always swept the entire atmospheric spectrum, from rhythmic vigour to levitational beauty. On Patrol is perhaps his finest assimilation of these extremes. “Sgt. Pepsi” is the perfect case in point: a formidable slow groove capsizes into vinyl crackle after a mere minute, before the song resurrects itself through sweeping strings and vocal harmonies, sliding against each other like the overlain romantic denouements to a dozen Hollywood films from the 1940s. Elsewhere, “Get You In (Belong Mix)” drapes shoegaze guitar over a trundling funk backbeat, straddling the physical world and the outer realms, while hushed voices point toward the song's implied themes of cultural cliques, critical consensus and the plight of the eternal outsider: “Sure, I can get you in... these people are my friends, I’m one of them - I belong.”

This is music that both endures and disappears. Odd Nosdam has always wielded a strange relationship with time, scrambling association with any specific era, weaving together numerous tempos simultaneously. There is no master clock. Each track could happily hold up as an infinite loop, yet Nosdam clearly favours the potency of the gone-too-soon, applying the fadeout just as hypnosis starts to crest. Indeed, the songs are both the product of meticulous long-term construction and spontaneity. While the foundations of On Patrol have come together over several years, the recording process involved channeling vibes through a vintage Roland Space Echo and bouncing song fragments back and forth from hard disk to cassette 8-track, gifting a phased permanence to creative decisions made on the fly – a hat-tip to the production processes of Nosdam's longtime hero, Lee ‘Scratch’ Perry. Like a recurring dream, On Patrol appeals to both the plains of momentary ephemera and the long-established backchannels of the unconscious, equal parts revelation and deja vu.

Text by Jack Chuter
Artwork by Ian Ferguson

For over 25 years, David Madson (aka Odd Nosdam) has been stationed away from the light of the mainstream, diligently working the nightshift. Every so often, we awake to find another of his bleary and beautiful missives slung into the waking world – albums whose assemblages of sampled grooves, atmospheres and voices are unified by a hallucinatory sense of melody, like disparate visions strung together through ribbons of sleep-talk. From his earliest days as a member of the seminal group cLOUDDEAD, through his remixes for artists such as Boards of Canada and Black Moth Super Rainbow, Nosdam has been reporting back from his rounds upon the perimeters of culture and consciousness, forging a musical language all of his own.

On Patrol is the second Odd Nosdam LP to be released on The Notwist’s imprint Alien Transistor – following on from the 2019 album Mirrors – and continues a collaborative history that begun with a 2008 remix of The Notwist song, “Sleep”. It’s a love letter to the vinyl format, produced with the aim of optimizing for a single LP. This objective permeated every aspect of the album’s production, from the duration of each side through to the vinyl mastering (Jessica Thompson) and lacquer-cutting (Dubplates & Mastering, Berlin). As we've come to expect, the album is built almost entirely from found sounds, many of which were taken from obscure and second-hand vinyl gathered during Nosdam’s ceaseless crate-digging escapades. Other sources include field recordings made in 2022 at the Catalonia summer home of artist Salvador Dalí, which are baked into the swirling sci-fi glide of “Here to Know (Adéu Mix)”, and a sumptuous clunking bass line courtesy of Organi’s Mike Walti, which runs like an infinite highway through the fuzzy, sunbaked sprawl of “Deepsimple”.

Odd Nosdam’s work has always swept the entire atmospheric spectrum, from rhythmic vigour to levitational beauty. On Patrol is perhaps his finest assimilation of these extremes. “Sgt. Pepsi” is the perfect case in point: a formidable slow groove capsizes into vinyl crackle after a mere minute, before the song resurrects itself through sweeping strings and vocal harmonies, sliding against each other like the overlain romantic denouements to a dozen Hollywood films from the 1940s. Elsewhere, “Get You In (Belong Mix)” drapes shoegaze guitar over a trundling funk backbeat, straddling the physical world and the outer realms, while hushed voices point toward the song's implied themes of cultural cliques, critical consensus and the plight of the eternal outsider: “Sure, I can get you in... these people are my friends, I’m one of them - I belong.”

This is music that both endures and disappears. Odd Nosdam has always wielded a strange relationship with time, scrambling association with any specific era, weaving together numerous tempos simultaneously. There is no master clock. Each track could happily hold up as an infinite loop, yet Nosdam clearly favours the potency of the gone-too-soon, applying the fadeout just as hypnosis starts to crest. Indeed, the songs are both the product of meticulous long-term construction and spontaneity. While the foundations of On Patrol have come together over several years, the recording process involved channeling vibes through a vintage Roland Space Echo and bouncing song fragments back and forth from hard disk to cassette 8-track, gifting a phased permanence to creative decisions made on the fly – a hat-tip to the production processes of Nosdam's longtime hero, Lee ‘Scratch’ Perry. Like a recurring dream, On Patrol appeals to both the plains of momentary ephemera and the long-established backchannels of the unconscious, equal parts revelation and deja vu.

Text by Jack Chuter
Artwork by Ian Ferguson

There's a moment during every great dance floor experience when the music takes over and everyone becomes part of something bigger. "SHOUT!", the latest release from 2SoulFusion Presents Ascension, captures that feeling in its purest form. Featuring the powerhouse voices and ad-libs of Dames Brown and Dawn Tallman, along with an all-star ensemble of master vocalists including Josh Milan, Rahsaan Patterson, Lisa Fischer, Cindy Mizelle, Audrey Wheeler, Ramona Dunlap, and Lea Lorien, this joyful anthem is an invitation to let go, lift your spirit, and celebrate through music.

Produced, written, arranged, and mixed by 2SoulFusion—Louie Vega and Josh Milan—"SHOUT!" draws inspiration from the communal spirit of gospel while embracing the energy and freedom of house music. Driven by simple yet powerful affirmations—"Shout," "Sing," "Move," "Love," "Get Up On Your Feet," "Listen Up," and "Let This Music Take You Higher"—the song transforms into an experience where every voice becomes part of the celebration. It's a journey of anthemic hooks, soaring harmonies, infectious grooves, and unforgettable melodies designed to ignite dance floors, uplift hearts, and remind us that music has the power to unite people through rhythm, joy, and love.

The inspiration for "SHOUT!" was born from a creative exchange between Louie Vega and Charaf Tajer, founder and creative director of the internationally acclaimed fashion house Casablanca. Introduced by longtime friend Joseph Capriati, Charaf shared a bold vision—to bring together the worlds of fashion, gospel, and house music for one unforgettable Casablanca runway presentation in Paris.

Louie Vega recalls: “Charaf was introduced to me by my friend Joseph Capriati, who said Charaf was looking to meet me about an idea he had. His vision was to marry fashion, gospel, and house music within Casablanca's collection. At first, he wanted me to DJ and play gospel house music. I said, 'Instead of playing existing music, why don't I create an original song with a gospel house flavor?' I immediately got together with my 2SoulFusion partner Josh Milan, and together we came up with 'SHOUT!'”

That vision came to life during Casablanca's spectacular Paris presentation inside a breathtaking cathedral, where Louie Vega premiered the original twelve-minute and nine-second composition live. As the music echoed through the cathedral, Dames Brown joined the London House Gospel Choir in a soul-stirring performance while the models walked the aisle on Casablanca's carpet made of their signature green color and a dashing vibrating giant mirror echoing the runway visually. Renowned DJs Luciano and Chloé Caillet were among those who walked the runway, while friends of Charaf Tajer and special guests—including Jaden Thompson, Folamour, Dimitri From Paris, Kapela, and many others—were in attendance, making it an unforgettable gathering where music, spirituality, fashion, and culture merged into one extraordinary experience.

Inspired by that magical evening in Paris, Louie Vega and Josh Milan returned to the studio to expand the original composition into the powerful recording heard today. Built around rich live musicianship, Josh Milan's keyboards, organ, piano and synth bass provide the foundation alongside Axel Tosca's expressive grand piano recorded live, Sherrod Barnes' soulful guitar, and Gene Perez's unmistakable bass groove. Together they create an infectious, organic driving sound that allows the vocals to soar while delivering the unmistakable musical depth and musicianship that define 2SoulFusion.

Leading the celebration are Dames Brown and Dawn Tallman, whose commanding performances are elevated by an extraordinary choir of world-class vocalists. Dames Brown's spirited sermon and ad-libs, and Dawn Tallman’s powerful ad-lib vamping out together with the soaring harmonies of Lisa Fischer, Cindy Mizelle, Audrey Wheeler, Rahsaan Patterson, Ramona Dunlap, Lea Lorien, and Josh Milan, recreate the feeling of a joyful gospel congregation—not confined to four walls, but alive on dance floors around the world. Every chorus encourages listeners to get up, listen up, feel it, sing, move, love, and become part of the experience. Recorded between Honeycomb Studios in Pennsylvania, The Hub Ibiza and Manhattan Center Studios, New York City, and mixed at The Hub Ibiza, "SHOUT!" reflects the continuing vision of the Ascension project, where spirituality, musicianship, community, fashion, and dance music become one.

Hanne Lippard and Renato Grieco's Today's Special is a suite of language works synthesising melody and diction that integrates the literary and the audible in a repertoire of songs that bask in the melody of voice and the punctuations of structured composition. Working with methods of reduction rather than opulence in both tonal composition and rhetoric, each piece pegs the poetic to the musical with compositional schematics and methods. It is important to state that there is little to none improvisation here, instead, the duo set up matrices, rules and structural links that facilitated meaningful locus of exchange between their two practices. Lippard's texts are a collection of new and previously completed works. In these, as is typical for her work, she enjoys the easy pleasure of wordplay, iterative language, and decontextualised anecdote, as in opener Portrait of a Betrayal, a piece about the loss of a phone and the way it haunted the owner who dropped it, based on a lived experience. Grieco's instrumentation works with Lippard's language art as a form of acoustic typography. "I studied graphic design and I think about how you can express typography through voice," she says. "Renato's use of the viola da gamba becomes like an underline, or a font's brushstrokes, in ways that feel typographical." In this, the classically-trained composer Grieco often finds and echoes the pitch movements of Lippard's voice, intonation mirrored and revealed, linguistic meaning doubled and shadowed by plucked, strummed or bowed strings. His main instrument is the viola da gamba, the instrument considered closest to the human voice for its tonal range and ability to mimic inflections and timbre, and here he brings it even closer to the voice, building systems by which it moves with and around Lippard. He also plays piano and Wurlitzer, and joins her in speaking on Receiver and in conversation for final track The Black Rose. "Hanne's voice is an artist's voice, embodied as the artwork itself," he says. "But where my approach is from the perspective of a composer, hers is around rhetoric and language. We worked towards each other in this sense, Hanne finding a space to welcome my voice, and me designing an acoustic space to enhance her vocal persona." In some tracks the structural connections are obvious - the matched tumbling delivery and stepped pitches of voice and piano in Aficionado sounding like two tipsy friends descending a staircase. In others, like the triptych of tracks Three Rungs Ladder, structured with rules derived from nursery rhymes, or cumulative song (akin to the 12 Days of Christmas). For the Colour 1 and Colour 2 pieces, the duo worked from palettes of colours connected to clusters of harmonies, which underlined the power of the word and its articulation. The absurd Labradorable personifies a people pleaser, A Story About Being Blue is an imagined playful monologue from the Deep Blue supercomputer - requesting in sing-song stop motion to be called Debbie, and Larry - as Grieco echoes in factual reportage. Hurtbeat unpacks and recomposes a tweeted non-apology by a Russian art collector about owning a piece of racist art, Grieco shadowing Lippard's generating a third `drop-shadow' performer from the resonances between the duo, typographic re-articulation of the source material. The Receiver includes lines from Robert Ashley's Improvement (Don Leaves Linda), Ashley existing as a spiritual parent of sorts to the practices contained on Today's Special, and here interpolated as if he is being quoted and written through within the audible world of the piece in a palimpsest of borrowed sentences. Closing track The Black Rose contains its own self-aware comedy, a lightly distorted conversation sourced from a Reddit thread about whether black roses exist, recorded as if it were an internet radio or a low budget podcast, the casual exchange stilted in the delivery of platitudes as scripted speech. Today's Special was developed in person over the course of a series of small residencies - at Deutsche Akademie Rom Villa Massimo, Rome; Fondazione Morra, Napoli; Callie's, Berlin. In these limited periods that rarely stretched beyond a week, Lippard and Grieco developed strategies for the works, keeping tightly locked to musical concepts. This, for Grieco, is about maintaining a solid, meaningful connection within the compositions, and committing to everything having a purpose for existing within the work. Each element pulls its weight; has something to say, literally and metaphorically speaking. In the same way that Lippard's work leaves nowhere for her to hide, he wants the music to exist with its own naked purpose: "It's is about exposing nudity via reduced materials," says Grieco. "This is a form of courage we want to embrace. Once we take off everything, it needs to be extremely precise to maintain a connection with the audience. We have a lot of tools to hide behind now, to protect ourselves and our identities as artists, performers, and in life more generally. It's something I don't want to do. I want extreme reduction: no hiding."

The Dead Mauriacs is the project of French artist Olivier Prieur, "Paravents et miroirs, une cérémonie" is a live soundtrack.

The Dead Mauriacs describe their music as "Exotica Concrete" - their music is composed of field recordings made on a daily basis, as well as a diverse collection of sounds, including piano, Indian harmonium, violin, ukulele, didgeridoo, pieces of wood, glass, paper, and metal plates. The album is a spectacular 40-minute sound collage, assembled by sampling Exotica music represented by musicians and arrangers such as Les Baxter and Arthur Lyman, who were active in the 1950s.

"Exotica is a musical genre or sub-genre that emerged in the 1950s in the United States with musicians and arrangers like Les Baxter or Arthur Lyman. It is an extraordinary music because it is false: bird calls imitate bird songs, you can hear the sound of the waves, it is a Western fantasy, particularly North American, of a world and an imagery that never existed. It is a music associated with mass tourism, mass entertainment, consumerism. Arthur Lyman recorded about 30 records in 10 years in Waikiki. With his band, they played and recorded under a geodesic aluminum dome. The dome belonged to the owner of the hotel he played for every night. They did this at night to avoid noise. It's music that is both profoundly naive and totally flawed. In this, it is seductive and intellectually interesting. It is music that could easily be criticized today, but it is an imaginary in itself, like the Italian film music of the 1960s and 1970s." (Excerpt from the calax's interview)

The Dead Mauriacs are not only involved in music, but also in a wide range of other creative endeavors, including video and painting. He also repsonsible for the artwork of this LP. The inside of the product is also accompanied by an 8-page interview with Mauriacs and compiled his amazing artworks.

The Dead Mauriacs
Paravents et miroirs : une cérémonie / Screens and mirrors: a ceremony

Side A
Courte dérive, une ouverture / Short drift, an opening
Le retour des insectes électriques / The return of the electric insects Les oiseaux étranges / The strange birds Tension, terreur factice / Tension, false terror
Dénouement malais / Malaysian ending
Rituels et vanités 1 / Rituals and vanities 1
Rituels et vanités 2 / Rituals and vanities 2
Italiens dʼHambourg / Italians in Hamburg

Side B
Secrets pour piano / Secrets for piano
La suite Monory, Padoue-Le Caire-Nassau / The Monory Suite, Padua-Cairo-Nassau Hommes à découper / Men to cut out Lassitude moite / Clammy weariness
Le soleil artificiel du pont croisière / The artificial sun on the cruise deck
Pirogues et palmiers, vus de la scène / Pirogues and palm trees, seen from the stage La traversée / The crossing Rideau / Rideau
Fields recordings : Semproniano and Siena, Italy, Figueira, Portugal, Charentes, France. An electrical wire with a frequency shifter gave birth to the insects. Real and fake piano. Everything made with a computer and a midi keyboard.
Music premiered at Hörbar, Hamburg, 28th of December 2017. Music (and video) Olivier Prieur.
Thanks to Thorsten Soltau and all people at Hörbar.
Hello to Felix Kubin & Marie-Pierre Bonniol, Julia & Jan Warnke. Kisses to Hélène.

“When forty, I was still wearing miniskirts, extravagant patterns, pink, fluorescent colours, star shaped earrings. I walked around with my leopardskin hat, my fluffy bag, my floral outfit, until the gaze of others made me feel like it was not age appropriate anymore. Although I am still the same person I was at 16. It's the others I see changing."
There's no better way to describe ageing than through the gap that arises and continues to grow between physical reality and the specular image of the self : one deteriorates over time, exposed to the cruel laws of gravity and oxydation, while the other never ages, remaining intact and unaltered… frozen in a moment of blissfulness. The more time goes by the more the gap becomes a separate entity (ou “world” pour etre plus prosaïque). It can become so painful that many try to escape it, using and abusing every trickery.
“Youth looks so good on you” is a sonic ballad which bizarrely explores the world that lies between reality and self-fantasy, a world where the aesthetic cult of youth becomes sovereign to the people.
This piece was produced in 2022 as part of the Festival « Les Heures Sauvages - Nef des Marges dans l'ombre des certitudes », at the Centre Wallonie-Bruxelles in Paris.
After "A Story of a Global Disease" in 2022, "Youth looks so good on you" is the second piece of music by Naomie Klaus released on moli del tro records.

At the core of the creative process behind “HPC” and “Bor3d” lies meta-irony, a quality that permeates much of today’s digital content landscape.

Both tracks are a deliberate attempt to push the sound toward a barely perceptible absurdity and ironic unseriousness in their interpretation of well-familiar styles of dance club music. It is a play with form, expectation, and recognizability — balancing sincerity with sarcastic exaggeration.

Okay
Okay is built around interruption. Voices, fragments of dialogue, yawns, irritation — people seem to step inside the track uninvited. Someone is bored, someone is annoyed, someone tries to stop the flow entirely. Just like in real life, the process is constantly disrupted. The track reflects the experience of being surrounded by opinions, noise, and skepticism — especially the kind that will never be convinced, no matter what you do. “Okay” becomes a quiet, ironic response to this pressure: not agreement, not approval, but endurance. The track continues anyway.

Tripatura
Tripatura is a fictional creature — a warped echo of cryptid mythology. In this narrative, Tripatura doesn’t simply exist, it hunts. Once it finds you, it drags you into an endless trip with no exit point. Time stretches, perception blurs, and the track itself becomes the trap. Its prolonged, unresolved ending mirrors the experience of being stuck inside a loop that refuses closure. Tripatura doesn’t rush. It lingers, slowly pulling you deeper, until the trip no longer feels temporary.

2 x catastrophic cosmic chronic compositions from the 2016 psychic mirrors debut album. re-mastered loud for 7" club play. brought to you by Amnisa & PPU records.

includes 5x7 promo photo postcard.

Various Small Whistles and a Song, the new album by Chicago-based artist Lia Kohl, incorporates notions of space, social relations, and humor. As the title suggests, the album responds to Ed Ruscha’s 1964 photographic artist book Various Small Fires and Milk, which Kohl sees as a wondrous celebration of ordinariness, one that reveals Ruscha’s trademark deadpan humor and depth. In the spirit of that publication, Kohl created her own series of sonic vignettes, with guest appearances from her close community of collaborators including claire rousay, Macie Stewart, Patrick Shiroishi, and others, reflecting the same sense of humor and mundanity.

The structure of the album—16 one-minute tracks—directly mirrors Ruscha’s book, which comprises 15 photographs of fire and one of a glass of milk. Ruscha’s “small fires” are represented here by recordings of whistles—mostly human whistling, with occasional appearances by train whistles, emergency whistles, and a woman selling penny whistles on the street in Guangzhou, China. About this choice of material, Kohl writes: “I’ve always been captivated by whistling—it’s musical but often a bit unconscious; usually solo but often done in public places. There’s something tender and human about hearing someone whistle, a socially acceptable version of hearing their mind wander.” As with Ruscha’s photographs, the whistles are not random snapshots but windows into social situations, narratives, or spaces.

The “milk” of the title — the 16th photograph in Ruscha’s book — is interpreted here as a single recording: a group of people singing together in Barcelona around 6 a.m. on New Year’s morning, captured through the floor of an Airbnb. Kohl describes this as a social, collective sound that contrasts with the solitary nature of whistling. The song functions as a counterbalance—a quiet celebration of shared experience.

Lia Kohl is a composer and sound artist based in Chicago. Her wide-ranging practice includes composition and performance, installation, improvisation, and collaboration. She tours nationally and internationally, working in theater, jazz, rock, and experimental contexts. Her work centers curiosity and patience, an exploration of the mundane and profound possibilities of sound.

This album is not just a homage — it’s a gentle act of remembrance. A way of tuning in to what Lucier showed us: that listening is an art in itself. A meditation on resonance, memory, and the quiet power of pure sound. Or to quote Alvin Lucier himself: “I guess I’m trying to help people hold shells up to their ears, and listen to the ocean again.”

The influence of Alvin Lucier’s work on acoustic phenomena and the interplay between sound and space is difficult to overstate. His legacy continues to echo through the work of countless composers and sound artists today. Lucier’s music is marked by a sense of childlike wonder and sonic simplicity - shifting our perception from what we hear to how we listen.

At the heart of his compositions lies the sine wave: the purest, most elemental form of sound. Clarinetist Dries Tack pays tribute to this master of minimalism with an album centered around two works Lucier composed as intimate ‘In Memoriams’ for friends. Both pieces explore a single, elegant idea: the interaction between an instrumental tone and a sine wave.

Out of that interaction, ‘beatings’ emerge — a pulsating rhythm that accelerates or decelerates as the waves draw nearer or drift apart. Though built on the same concept, the two works are like mirrored reflections of one another: In Memoriam Jon Higgins, the sine wave glides in a slow glissando while the clarinet holds steady tones. In Memoriam Stuart Marshall, it’s the clarinet that dances around a fixed sine wave.

Dries Tack is a clarinetist specializing in contemporary performance practices. He performs with ensembles such as Nadar Ensemble, Curious Chamber Players, and Ensemble Fractales. As co-artistic director of the GLoW Collective, he explores collaborative practices across artistic disciplines in the broadest sense. In addition to his ensemble work, Dries curates solo projects that offer fresh perspectives on existing repertoire or give rise to entirely new works at the intersection of composition and improvisation.

Following up a string of releases on labels such as Mana, Sun Ark, Orange Milk Records and Abyss, Other People are honoured to present the new album Fobia by Argentinian musician and sound artist aylu, real name Ailin Grad. Inspired in part of Grad's many collaborative projects over the last few years, Fobia sees her collecting and rearranging the music and sounds fostered within these to create an intimate, spiritually charged album that turns personal struggle into collective resistance and resilience. What initially started as a way for Grad to process her own experiences with agora- and claustrophobia, and an attempt to navigate feelings of shame and a perceived demand to keep these feelings bottled up and hidden from the world, she began to realise how mental health struggles are not isolated incidents but part of broader systems of collective suffering and injustice. “It took a long time for me to discover that my issues were part of a system that produces these kinds of symptoms and that it takes a lot of courage to find a way around them. I have the feeling that more and more people suffer from these kind of things in some way or another, and what was at first taught as something you should be silent about and keep private, I discovered that the more you talk about it and share it with people you trust, the more you realise that it’s part of something much bigger.” This tension and constant pull between fear and joy, light and dark, is present throughout the album. From the strained breathing featured in opening track Yodo echoing the suffocating feeling from claustrophobia interspersed with the lighter textures of Obelisco Elysium and Prospero offering up a sense of relief, to the almost cacophonous, immersive soundscapes of El Sol Mal, mirroring the complex, often contradictory emotions when navigating mental health challenges. Fobia invites listeners to move through pain with honesty, finding strength in shared experiences.

Balmat 17 marks both a return and a new frontier. It is the second album on the label from Patricia Wolf, whose 2022 album See-Through is one of the most beloved in Balmat’s catalog; it also marks the first time that Wolf has turned her hand to a film soundtrack. The results are every bit as magical as fans of the Portland, Oregon, composer’s music might expect.

Hrafnamynd—Icelandic for “raven film”—is a new feature-length documentary by experimental filmmaker Edward Pack Davee. Shot on a mix of film and digital formats, and incorporating his father’s Ektachrome slides from the 1970s, the autobiographical film works on multiple levels at once: a reminiscence of his childhood in Iceland, an exploration of landscape and folklore, and a documentary study of the island nation’s ravens—including a talking raven named Krummi.

Wolf is the perfect artist to score such an unusual film. Mixing ambient music and field recording—including extensive experience documenting bird song—Wolf brings an unusually empathic perspective to her music. In the context of Hrafnamynd, her airy melodies, pensive atmospheres, and vivid textures intuitively complement the film’s grainy film stock and blown-out colors. Friends for years, the two artists further bonded when Wolf asked Pack to film music videos for her songs “Woodland Encounter” (from See-Through) and “The Culmination Of” (from I'll Look For You In Others). Pack used Wolf’s previously recorded music as placeholders as he began assembling a rough cut of the film, which made her a natural choice to help him complete his idiosyncratic vision with an all-new, bespoke score.

But Wolf’s soundtrack also indisputably stands alone as a full-length album. Largely created using the UDO Super 6 synthesizer, it features a carefully distilled palette of warm, string-like pads and darkly glistening mallets, rounded out with the very occasional introduction of nylon string guitar. Musically and stylistically, the album’s 11 tracks represent both a continuation of the ruminative sound of See-Through and also an extension into new expressive modes. Few musicians, ambient or otherwise, are as skilled at balancing melody with atmosphere, or at finding ways to eke fresh at finding ways to eke fresh, surprising sounds out of an intentionally reduced toolkit. Meditative, immersive, and emotionally generous Wolf’s Hrafnamynd soundtrack evokes a range of ambient classics from decades past while confidently marking out its own verdant patch of ground.


Artist’s Statement:
Edward and I have been friends for years, but we really started to get to know one another better after I hired him to make music videos for my songs “Woodland Encounter” and “The Culmination Of.” For those projects we got to spend a lot of time hiking in various locations around the Pacific Northwest with his camera, very nice lenses, and tripod. Keeping quiet, hidden, and vigilant we searched for wildlife, good light on the trees, meadows, lakes, rivers, and skies. Edward was already an appreciator of my music and I was already in awe of his filmmaking talents so it felt like a great fit. Although we work in different areas of art our styles compliment one another. We both tend toward slow and careful pacing, with a focus on emotion and introspective reflections on life and the landscapes around us. For this reason, Iknew that I could trust Edward to create videos for my music. We saw so many beautiful and unexpected things on our filming days, but I was moved to tears once I saw how magnificent and poetic it all was. His video work from the cinematography, to the editing, and color correction helped bring my inner vision to life.

A few months after that, Edward surprised me with an invitation to work on the soundtrack for his new film, Hrafnamynd. I enthusiastically said yes. I had always wanted to work on a film, and I knew that his filmmaking style would be inspiring to write music for. I had recently acquired an UDO Super 6 synthesizer but hadn't used it much. I decided that this would be the synth that I'd use for the film. It has the ability to sound very modern, but can also sound so warm and fuzzy, like a synth from the 1970s. It turned out to be the perfect instrument for this project as the film itself straddles time from the ’70s to today.

When Edward sent me the rough cut of the film, he used placeholder music to help give me an idea of the emotion and energy that he was hoping to achieve for each scene. For many of the scenes, Edward used music from my albums as temporary tracks. This told me that he trusted my work and style and therefore I should just trust my intuition with how to proceed. I wanted to make sure that everything that I made was a direct reflection of what was happening on screen, a mirror of its emotion and energy so people could really lock into the film psychologically. This process took my composing to unexpected places—like being led by a strange cat or a raven that seemed to have something to show me. I found that the approach made the music so much more dynamic than my usual style. I really enjoyed being influenced by the action and dialog on the screen. Thankfully, Edward was very happy with the work. I made sure to handle this project with the utmost care because this is about his life and his family, and an exploration of the experiences that made him an artist and filmmaker. While watching the film many times over, I found myself thinking about my own family and my early memories with them and how the place where I grew up has influenced who I have become. I found that his film invites the viewer to reflect on their own lives in a similar way. I hope that this music and film can guide others to contemplate on the history of their beingness and the people and places that shaped them.

Another aspect to this project is the splendor and wonder of Iceland itself. I had the opportunity to visit Iceland for the first time in 2023. I got to play a show there for the Extreme Chill Festival and met many friendly and brilliant Icelanders. I also got to collect field recordings that I used in the film. It's a fascinating place and culture that easily captures the hearts and imaginations of anyone who visits. Whether you spend your time in the city immersed in its impressive arts scene, or venture out into the wilderness to behold its wondrous landscape, it will leave a lasting impression. The soundtrack is also a love letter to Iceland itself.

Facta returns to Wisdom Teeth with ‘GULP’: a zippy, hi-def mini-album full of scrambled vocals, blown-out basslines, dripping synths and spring-loaded grooves that together map out his playfully psychedelic corner of contemporary club music. Written in a quick creative burst in late 2024, the record brings together a range of the producer’s distinct creative strands into a sharp, cohesive whole. Sitting snugly within the stylistic niche carved out by his A&Ring and DJ sets (alongside label co-founder K-LONE), we hear the influence of 00’s minimal, tech house, UK soundsystem music, ambient electronica, dub and more rubbing shoulders in a way that feels effortless and personal. Many of the tracks began life as sketches penned on the road - dotting between festivals, European club shows, and on tour in Japan - and so the record carries with it a sense of movement and forward momentum, and feels populated by voices, memories, people and places.

The Londoner’s characteristic approach to sound design and genre interplay are on full display here. Generative vocal hooks melt and warp into strange fluid forms, while synths stretch, detune, bend and dissolve into space before snapping back into shape again. Keyboards mirror human vocal formants, forming melodies that feel at once organic and alien. Basslines warp and distort, as if being re-moulded out of different synthetic properties.

Across the record there’s a commitment to expressing simple or familiar ideas in new and unexpected ways, whilst experimentations and innovations are presented clearly and intuitively. Cherished genre references are lovingly deployed as personal touchstones across the record - bleeping minimal- and tech-house; breakbeat dubstep and funky; Chicago house; dub techno - yet sounds and influences are combined and meshed in unexpected ways. Each track is tightly engineered and reduced down to its key elements, which are then manipulated, flipped, warped and pushed to breaking point. As is typical of Facta’s music, uncanny contrasts are worked throughout the music in unexpected ways. Warm, balmy moods come laced with seams of tension or uncertainty, whilst the record’s darker moments are handled with a light, playful touch.

With 15 years experience writing, DJing and A&Ring under his belt, ‘GULP’ is testament to Facta’s love of creation and curation - of seeking out, absorbing, experimenting, and channeling new sounds to create your own sonic world. A record borne of playful experimentation and happy accidents, ‘GULP’ shines bright with a simple, pure energy - a testament to writing quickly and intuitively and, above all else, enjoying the process.

The album’s artwork features photography by award-winning Boston-based photographer, Pelle Cass, whose complex time-lapse composites present hyperreal yet impossible tableaus of seemingly simple everyday scenes - an approach that parallels the record’s blurring of the familiar and the unfamiliar. Cass’s work has been widely exhibited, collected, and published, including solo shows at Gallery Kayafas, Boston, the Photographic Resource Center, Boston, and the Houston Center for Photography, and in collections such as the Fogg Art Museum, the Peabody Essex Museum, and the Museum of Fine Arts, Houston. He was twice a Critical Mass Top 50 photographer and has received two fellowships from Yaddo and one from the Berkshire Taconic Foundation.

he initial seed for this project was planted in 2020 when Nicolás Jaar wrote the song “Piedras” for a concert at the Museum of Memory & Human Rights in Santiago, Chile, which commemorates the victims of human rights violations during the military dictatorship led by Augusto Pinochet between 1973 and 1990. Between 2022-2023 it took on a new form as a radio play entitled 'Archivos de Radio Piedras', which was shared on a dedicated Telegram channel. In 2024, the play was converted into a 24 channel installation at the University Museum of Mexico City (MUAC), where it was exhibited for 5 months.

Piedras 1 and 2 is a collection of the tracks featured within the play, all new music by Jaar, but partly presented within the play as the music of Salinas Hasbún (the name a composite homage to Jaar's grandmothers, Graciela Salinas and Miriam Hasbún).

The play follows two friends mourning the disappearance of Salinas Hasbún, a musician and writer who vanished in the early 2020s. Although they live in a future where technology is advanced, they
resort to DIY radio methods because the anonymous group “Las 0cho” has launched a worldwide attack on undersea internet cables, causing a global internet blackout.

The play's central theme revolves around the idea that truths, memories and identities speak from the cracks (“rasgaduras”), or the "in-between" spaces ("en el entre"). This concept is supported by the
way much of the narration unfolds - in the liminal spaces between radio frequencies. The instability and transitory nature of a constantly shifting radio dial becomes not just a metaphor but the structure of the play itself. It’s in these moments of noise, static and interference that the deeper revelations of the story emerge. This disjointed, ever-changing medium mirrors the way memory and trauma operate within the play - non-linear, slipping through the gaps, found in fragments or ordinary moments, rather than direct transmissions of “official” historical accounts.

This notion reaches its climax at the end of the narrative, when a text is discovered in which Salinas speaks of finding a new number in a small pond in a cave mentioned in the first episodes of the radio play. This pond, inside the “cochlea of the world”, is seen as a way to introduce real-life randomness to computation. Embodied in the salt lakes of northern Chile, home to the world’s oldest bacteria, this randomness disrupts the rigid order of binary code, paving the way for a transformation of digital life.

First solo release by Nicolás Jaar since 2020’s Telas and Cenizas.

Full of bounce and experimentation in equal measure, ‘Triple Transit,’ Braille’s new album for Hotflush is about leaving his Sepalcure project (with Machinedrum) in the rear mirror, moving back to New York and using its energy to fuel new moves, confronting our hyper layered world and overcoming personal difficulties by being creative.

Focused squarely on utilising modular synthesis in sprawling studio sessions, the album covers a wide stylistic range and draws on the artist’s formidable battery of experience to craft a body of work that packs real emotional punch as well as a dancefloor sensibility.

We had a quick chat with him to wet your appetite…

Praveen Sharma aka Braille:
Moving on from Sepalcure
“That period of time when Sepalcure was at its peak was really inspiring. I’m still really in awe and humbled by the fans. It’s always amazing to hear about how music you’ve made has brightened up other people’s lives in some way, but ‘Triple Transit’ is really about transitioning from that period to something new. I’m intentionally not using many vocal samples on this album. That became quite a crutch for Sepalcure and I wanted to try and find ways to evoke those emotions and connect with the audience in other ways.”

The roots of his Bounce
‘Sour Patch Kiss’ and ‘While We’re Free’ are inspired by classic house and some early Detroit stuff. Songs like ‘Big Fun’ (Inner City), ‘I Wanna Be there’ (Model 500) and slowed down ‘Sex on The Beach’ (DJ Assault) have stuck with me since the beginning. I used to listen to this slowed down and doubled version of ‘Sex on The Beach’ on an early Juan Atkins mix cd on REPEAT when I was in high school.

Getting ambient
Triple Transit slows down and transitions through a bit of sadness and eventually acceptance at the end of the album. A lot of the music I’m making these days is trying to recreate that manic feeling so many of us have in 2024. Between social media, ridiculous hustle culture expectations and depressing global and national political events, it’s hard to not feel overwhelmed. I feel like Triple Transit is kind of a parabolic curve from mania to joy to a sober realization that yeah, actually the world is just fucked but somehow we carry on.

The Yummy Fur’s first album of new material in over 25 years is seductive and ambiguous; a fast-paced flip through scenes from art, myth, life and fantasy; a witty whole made from glittering scraps. The band’s original incarnation – fronted by singer, songwriter and guitarist John McKeown from 1992 to 1999 – morphed from making quick-hit cartoon-art songs to Eno and Cale-influenced creepers, populated by characters from McKeown’s life in Glasgow and the films, books and poetry that he lived a parallel life through. Everybody Talks About The Weather delights in using every past iteration of the band as potent collage material: a melee of sounds and ideas existing at once, revealing themselves then dipping back into hiding.
Recorded by the original core trio of McKeown, Brian MacDougall (guitar) and Paul Thomson (drums), Everybody Talks About The Weather comes 17 years after the band reformed for sporadic live shows, and seven years after the release of their sorta-greatest hits compilation Piggy Wings (Rock Action). Ten tracks long with nothing to spare, it is as condensed and vital as their best songs, with a new clarity of sound that allows their ambiguities to come into the light.
The album begins with “Cogs”, a taunting inquisition from within. As McKeown stages a fight between his id and ego, the tension heats up between conversational guitar lines and minimalist repetition; threatening sing-song melody and real, palpable menace. The band members are forced in tandem only to break apart, sustaining a genuine sense of just-hidden danger throughout the whole record – except, arguably, “Headphones”, a looser moment which sees McKeown make an existential something out of nothing while waiting for someone in the car (“I should have brought a book.../My ears are bleeding from the compression on your album”)
The songs are riots of reference: “Unity Over Europe” is a slyly complex two act play about the Mitford sisters – Diana, Unity, and Nancy, in a wink to the YF canon – smashing tragic biographical detail together with allusions to Thomas Pynchon and Francis Bacon. Pynchon is also lifted to serve “Blue Sunshine”, a collision of school shooters, serial killers and fictional fuck-ups (“Fast forward to Compton/Fast forward to Pynchon/Fast forward to Columbine'”) whose buzzy guitar lines are taunting and confrontational like a smarmy teenager. The innocuous title of “My Lasagne” belies a song that exists in several time periods at once: a visit to see Guernica, 50 people with their backs to the portrait of Dora Maar; the time that Picasso painted from; the Reina Sofia and the dirty streets of the Malasaña; myth-making musicians and the myths they’re riffing off overlapping and leering at each other.
All this could be laboured in lesser hands, but cultural verbosity is second nature to The Yummy Fur, who transform all this source material into songs that are weird, sexy, funny and absurd. Meaning is not happily understood or flattened. Susan Sontag's essay Against Interpretation accompanied McKeown as he wrote this album, and she’s paraphrased in “Semolina Ballerina”, the album’s justification of artistic ambiguity. Thomson’s motorik beat leads a gathering of back-and-forth instrumental phrases – including a wiry contribution on saxophone – embodying the futility of trying to parse something definitive from repeated action. “Listen to the very first thing that’s in your head,” Sontag-via-McKeown commands directly, then slinks sideways: “Interpretation is a conversation in an unmade bed”
The album features two more focused portraits, or at least The Yummy Fur’s version of such a thing. “Wanda” merges the life of filmmaker Barbara Loden and the title character of her semi-autobiographical 1970 feature film, with Loden’s then-husband Elia Kazan joining the fray of no-good men in her film. It’s a mix of adaptation and avant-criticism, with McKeown’s wordplay and mannered pronunciation mirroring the way that non-fiction and fiction twist around each other in the song. The title track is a series of vignettes and impressions from the lives of the band’s ‘90s inner circle, positing painter Mac McNaughton as a kind of Falstaffian ringleader. As with Piggy Wings and the recent single “New T-Shirt”, McNaughton painted the cover of Everybody Talks About The Weather – like the album’s music, the image of a coy girl in a white dress is an uncanny amalgamation of styles, suggestions and references just out of reach, as though seen in an art museum in a dream.
The album ends with two reads of the same frustration. “King of Nothing” is the closest The Yummy Fur will ever get to sludge-rock: the band melts together into a dusty, dreary haze as McKeown drowns in a drudgery of personal struggle (“Two jumpers on in Babylon/And only cats to talk to”) and the rhythmic toppling of heroes (Rowlands, Duvall, Munro). The majority of visible dirt is cleaned off for “Say Hello”, an uncharacteristic depiction of throwing the windows open after a dark night of the soul. Here, the situation is still cold and hard (“When the sun burns gold, but the heat never reaches your fingertips”) but it feels surmountable. Everybody Talks About The Weather is an unpredictable album from an unpredictable group, but ending on a moment of almost uncomplicated light is maybe its biggest surprise. - Claire Biddles (2026)

The Yummy Fur’s first album of new material in over 25 years is seductive and ambiguous; a fast-paced flip through scenes from art, myth, life and fantasy; a witty whole made from glittering scraps. The band’s original incarnation – fronted by singer, songwriter and guitarist John McKeown from 1992 to 1999 – morphed from making quick-hit cartoon-art songs to Eno and Cale-influenced creepers, populated by characters from McKeown’s life in Glasgow and the films, books and poetry that he lived a parallel life through. Everybody Talks About The Weather delights in using every past iteration of the band as potent collage material: a melee of sounds and ideas existing at once, revealing themselves then dipping back into hiding.
Recorded by the original core trio of McKeown, Brian MacDougall (guitar) and Paul Thomson (drums), Everybody Talks About The Weather comes 17 years after the band reformed for sporadic live shows, and seven years after the release of their sorta-greatest hits compilation Piggy Wings (Rock Action). Ten tracks long with nothing to spare, it is as condensed and vital as their best songs, with a new clarity of sound that allows their ambiguities to come into the light.
The album begins with “Cogs”, a taunting inquisition from within. As McKeown stages a fight between his id and ego, the tension heats up between conversational guitar lines and minimalist repetition; threatening sing-song melody and real, palpable menace. The band members are forced in tandem only to break apart, sustaining a genuine sense of just-hidden danger throughout the whole record – except, arguably, “Headphones”, a looser moment which sees McKeown make an existential something out of nothing while waiting for someone in the car (“I should have brought a book.../My ears are bleeding from the compression on your album”)
The songs are riots of reference: “Unity Over Europe” is a slyly complex two act play about the Mitford sisters – Diana, Unity, and Nancy, in a wink to the YF canon – smashing tragic biographical detail together with allusions to Thomas Pynchon and Francis Bacon. Pynchon is also lifted to serve “Blue Sunshine”, a collision of school shooters, serial killers and fictional fuck-ups (“Fast forward to Compton/Fast forward to Pynchon/Fast forward to Columbine'”) whose buzzy guitar lines are taunting and confrontational like a smarmy teenager. The innocuous title of “My Lasagne” belies a song that exists in several time periods at once: a visit to see Guernica, 50 people with their backs to the portrait of Dora Maar; the time that Picasso painted from; the Reina Sofia and the dirty streets of the Malasaña; myth-making musicians and the myths they’re riffing off overlapping and leering at each other.
All this could be laboured in lesser hands, but cultural verbosity is second nature to The Yummy Fur, who transform all this source material into songs that are weird, sexy, funny and absurd. Meaning is not happily understood or flattened. Susan Sontag's essay Against Interpretation accompanied McKeown as he wrote this album, and she’s paraphrased in “Semolina Ballerina”, the album’s justification of artistic ambiguity. Thomson’s motorik beat leads a gathering of back-and-forth instrumental phrases – including a wiry contribution on saxophone – embodying the futility of trying to parse something definitive from repeated action. “Listen to the very first thing that’s in your head,” Sontag-via-McKeown commands directly, then slinks sideways: “Interpretation is a conversation in an unmade bed”
The album features two more focused portraits, or at least The Yummy Fur’s version of such a thing. “Wanda” merges the life of filmmaker Barbara Loden and the title character of her semi-autobiographical 1970 feature film, with Loden’s then-husband Elia Kazan joining the fray of no-good men in her film. It’s a mix of adaptation and avant-criticism, with McKeown’s wordplay and mannered pronunciation mirroring the way that non-fiction and fiction twist around each other in the song. The title track is a series of vignettes and impressions from the lives of the band’s ‘90s inner circle, positing painter Mac McNaughton as a kind of Falstaffian ringleader. As with Piggy Wings and the recent single “New T-Shirt”, McNaughton painted the cover of Everybody Talks About The Weather – like the album’s music, the image of a coy girl in a white dress is an uncanny amalgamation of styles, suggestions and references just out of reach, as though seen in an art museum in a dream.
The album ends with two reads of the same frustration. “King of Nothing” is the closest The Yummy Fur will ever get to sludge-rock: the band melts together into a dusty, dreary haze as McKeown drowns in a drudgery of personal struggle (“Two jumpers on in Babylon/And only cats to talk to”) and the rhythmic toppling of heroes (Rowlands, Duvall, Munro). The majority of visible dirt is cleaned off for “Say Hello”, an uncharacteristic depiction of throwing the windows open after a dark night of the soul. Here, the situation is still cold and hard (“When the sun burns gold, but the heat never reaches your fingertips”) but it feels surmountable. Everybody Talks About The Weather is an unpredictable album from an unpredictable group, but ending on a moment of almost uncomplicated light is maybe its biggest surprise. - Claire Biddles (2026)

This is a concept record that reflects on events that have had a calculable effect on a generation:
‘’By 83 and 84, it felt that nuclear war was going to happen. Not could happen but was going to.’’
Stephen Brotherstone
"What would you do in the event of a Nuclear war?"
I remember having discussions about what we would do when we heard the four minute warning siren. We would raid the sweet shop. I was 8 or 9 years old. The absurdity of this vivid memory encapsulates the concept of the record. It would take at least four minutes to get to the shop!
The record starts with an early memory of circling a church on a Raleigh Budgie (the smaller lesser known iconic Chopper bicycle) in 1981 and ends with staring up at a clear sky on Oldham Lows in 1990.
The record identifies and plays with the effects of an underlying fear of oblivion on a generation of children, but also society as a whole: The pieces take in media and government propaganda. Machinery (nuclear submarines) and buildings (nuclear bunkers) but also everyday activities of the civilian population, activities such as shopping, clubbing and staring at the sky. Thematically, the record is made up of personal memories mixed with historical events.
Instruments are mainly from 1980s. DX7 and 808 feature predominantly. The pieces feature numerous melodic motifs that develop and intertwine underlying ideas of espionage and layers of secret messaging. It also mirrors the ways in which governments and civilians interact. Decisions being made in the name of defence whilst people go about their daily lives. I am exploring the everyday experiences of the masses whilst major political decisions are taking place. For example, shopping on a Saturday afternoon versus heated Cold War tensions in 1983.
Although taking place conceptually in the years 1979-1991, this record mirrors current events. History repeating. It also mirrors the helplessness or maybe some oblivious everyday normality state that we adopt as a community whilst major political decisions are being made.
The idea that life goes on oblivious to larger scale politics, or on the other hand, the idea that we are all very aware but in a state of unreal normality. Adam Curtis goes into great detail about such things in his film 'Hyper Normalisation'.

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.

These days – on the new, ninth Fink album – Greenall is operating within a lineage of authentic, quietly revolutionary artists from England’s verdant southwestern toe. Artists like Michael Chapman. In 1970, the elusive acoustic guitar wizard released an album called Fully Qualified Survivor. The cult-classic served as a lodestar for Greenall – along with bandmates Tim Thornton and Guy Whittaker – as he began jigsawing together The City Is Coming to Erase it All, the follow-up to 2024’s Beauty In Your Wake. He even considered covering a song from it, but in the process, inadvertently stumbled into what became the album’s opener. ‘Wishing For Blue Sky’ circles a universal teenage ache: waiting for life to start. “No point dying of patience” goes the first lyric as crunching footsteps cue a resonant, open-tuned acoustic swaying into view. By 18, Greenall was fed up with waiting, so he left suburban Bristol and saw the world, sending postcards from the edge, waiting tables, squirreling away tips for the next flight. Thornton had similar experiences when the guitarist/drummer busked across Eur

This is nowstalgia more than nostalgia, though; there’s a parallel between these 18-year-olds and Fink’s autumn-aged family men. “You’re expected to be boring and settling down at this age,” Thornton says. “But we’ve still got this tremendous wanderlust. We want to go and discover, and also achieve things. It’s a nice life – home and family – but fuck, I can’t wait to get back out there.” City is a product of this hunger for discovery, and idolatry of the album as a form – like we had in 1974. City’s cover mirrors its interior, the first song is the greeting, the instrumental closer the conclusion. It’s a story. It’s a record for people who, like its creators, are curious. People who happily face a little cold for music, who light a crackling fire back home, who sit with these songs until they’re ready to chase after their own blue sky

These days – on the new, ninth Fink album – Greenall is operating within a lineage of authentic, quietly revolutionary artists from England’s verdant southwestern toe. Artists like Michael Chapman. In 1970, the elusive acoustic guitar wizard released an album called Fully Qualified Survivor. The cult-classic served as a lodestar for Greenall – along with bandmates Tim Thornton and Guy Whittaker – as he began jigsawing together The City Is Coming to Erase it All, the follow-up to 2024’s Beauty In Your Wake. He even considered covering a song from it, but in the process, inadvertently stumbled into what became the album’s opener. ‘Wishing For Blue Sky’ circles a universal teenage ache: waiting for life to start. “No point dying of patience” goes the first lyric as crunching footsteps cue a resonant, open-tuned acoustic swaying into view. By 18, Greenall was fed up with waiting, so he left suburban Bristol and saw the world, sending postcards from the edge, waiting tables, squirreling away tips for the next flight. Thornton had similar experiences when the guitarist/drummer busked across Eur

This is nowstalgia more than nostalgia, though; there’s a parallel between these 18-year-olds and Fink’s autumn-aged family men. “You’re expected to be boring and settling down at this age,” Thornton says. “But we’ve still got this tremendous wanderlust. We want to go and discover, and also achieve things. It’s a nice life – home and family – but fuck, I can’t wait to get back out there.” City is a product of this hunger for discovery, and idolatry of the album as a form – like we had in 1974. City’s cover mirrors its interior, the first song is the greeting, the instrumental closer the conclusion. It’s a story. It’s a record for people who, like its creators, are curious. People who happily face a little cold for music, who light a crackling fire back home, who sit with these songs until they’re ready to chase after their own blue sky

Chins For Lefty is the debut album and first recording by Gichard, a new duo chronicling the absurdities of end-stage capitalism and mouldering social rituals from their vantage point in Glasgow, Scotland. Recorded primarily in the band’s home studio straight to tape, Chins For Lefty combines gorgeous, ramshackle melody, DIY kosmische punk, drum machine + synth and, in vocalist/lyricist Lisa Jones, an absurdist commentator on the human condition as it navigates the anxieties of the modern world. Instrumentalist Chas Lalli’s swirling music accompaniment stitches an evocative mix of musical styles, the ragged wind beneath the lyrics’ wings.

Although the duo first collaborated in their previous group Dragged Up, their disparate musical and artistic backgrounds make for an alluring mix in Gichard. Lalli has spent the last 20 years in the Glasgow underground, most notably in the noise rock group VOM, while Lisa Jones’s practice was in poetry and spoken word. Beginning as co vocalist in her previous band, in Gichard her lyrics are centre stage; the vision concocted alongside Lalli amounts to a total world-build.

Chins For Lefty scans almost like a novel, with each track elucidating a skewed universe that bears only some resemblance to the one you and I partake in. Like all works of fiction Gichard’s songs are rooted in reality and the lived experiences of its authors, but here characters are exaggerated, social mores and habits are pulled apart to reveal their inherent alienness. Universal emotions are laid bare, the bright light of anxious examination searching out every hairline fracture in our relationships. Distorted and cracked, the mirror that Gichard hold up to our world is also pretty damn funny.

Opener Cholesterol Test launches an expansive, cosmic guitar and synth intro that belies the Tascam-tape recorder it was recorded onto, like a Chromatics cut substituting anxiety for overt sexuality. Here Jones intones an apology to a non-responsive recipient, in the medium of a long voice note forensically deconstructing an interaction from the night before. Over punk guitars and shuffling, lo-fi drum machine splutters, the narrator in Asking The Apes “prefers things to people” before being taken hostage in the city zoo to confess an obsession which consumes the protagonist, ending with the immortal two liner “I sleep in a cocoon of old newspapers at the end of your street / And I think I have been fired from my job,” On album standout Posthumous Hologram, the narrator is faced with a human simulacra, in this case an undead pop star; the face of the encroaching technological singularity. Yes, it does requests, it can do My Way in 200 different language options. But what are the implications? While you’re left pondering, the alternating deadpan verse delivery and undeniably catchy chorus keep you company.

By the time Break Up With Johnny Dogbirth rattles into view, the band are satirising a suburban inanity blown up to cartoon proportions, soundtracked with a drawled musicality that recalls Rowland S. Howard’s post-Birthday Party balladeering. This approach is furthered on Human Resources: over an angular guitar+bass track, Jones’s short story recalls Dry Cleaning’s erudite lyrical post punk. On Soft Face, Lalli’s guitar and drum machine are swathed in echo and delay, as Jones dissects dating rituals with a west of Scotland drollness. Hamming It Up brings a porcine perspective in a short story that begins with the line “I was breastfeeding discreetly in the service station. She didn’t mind.” What follows is a passage punctured with canned laughter and a narrative involving tribute acts, modern farming techniques.

Brilliant first single Your Private Hell closes the album, the closest the group get to earnest perhaps, filtered through a surreal central Scottishness. While Your Private Hell might seem like a sardonic take down of romance, perhaps it’s the very distillation of love in all its awkwardness, selflessness and weirdness. Here there’s a distinctive Glasgow-ness to this doomed romance: the protagonist falls for an outsider, offers them cheap jarred hot dogs and carbolic soap (the infamous, excoriating soap dished out in schools and government buildings throughout Scotland), offers to cover up a murder, stalks them in the all-night Spar. It’s a short story of intrigue, murder and the irresistible pull of self-sacrifice to share in someone else’s suffering. If that’s not love, what is it? You can see this vision mapped out in black and white on their video for 'Your Private Hell'.

Having transitioned between London, Lisbon and back again as a DJ and producer, as well as across the world as the drummer in beloved pop group, Metronomy, Anna Prior remains an essential and independent force in alternative and electronic music culture. The current epicentre of this creativity is undoubtedly Prior’s own label, Beat Palace. Established in 2021, it has showcased the talent and diversity of FLINTA producers carving an esoteric space within alt-pop and electronic music.

Returning to the imprint for the first time since its inception, Anna Prior utilises this vital platform to refine her own craft across the five-track ‘Firefly’ EP, exploring new moods and styles, balancing playfulness with vulnerability, shadow and light. Prior describes ‘Firefly’ as, “a collection of moments - some fleeting and some stubbornly lingering.... Each track came together almost by accident, but now feels to me like they've always belonged together.”

Lead single ‘True For You’ pulsates with soft euphoria, as Prior weaves softly cascading synths with her own earnest declarations, composing a sensual, sophisticated drama about “letting other people's differing truths sit alongside your own” that nonetheless carries a distinct club energy. In contrast, title track ‘Firefly’, written alongside co-producer Matt Karmil, unfolds as a spoken-word piece, investigating memory, “the tricky mirror that reveals more than it conceals”. Throughout, Prior’s inquisitive, native Yorkshire accent anchors a wide-eyed soundscape that gradually, impressively escalates into the cinematic.

Centerpiece track ‘Silence’ turns this approach inside out, escalating the tempo and revealing a DnB-influenced shade of Prior’s work that is certain to surprise and impress, scattering elegant syllables amongst serious soundsystem pressure as Prior navigates the feeling of being ghosted; by friends, lovers and even her own work. ‘No More Drama’ returns to pop, presenting a bold cover of Mary J. Blige’s classic that inverts the original’s unmatched intensity for a more serene, but no less affecting rendition.

Finally, ‘Beside You’ delivers one last, sublime blend of Prior’s songwriting and sequencing instincts, a simple pop incantation that coaxes dancers into a soft trance while concluding with a reminder from Prior that “amid life’s unanswered calls and fleeting highs, there is always space to feel safe and unjudged.” Concluding this sublime EP, Prior finds new ground to settle into her talents.

Intricate structures with an intertwining of spontaneity and randomness, meeting the diverse genre influences of the band members from mediaeval music to shoegaze to noise. That is Unravel, the new album, and first in six years, from Czech band Manon Meurt.
"Unravel reflects the different stages of dissociation, a person's thoughts, observations - whether of the environment or of oneself - and admiration for the beauty and cruelty that nature mirrors," multi-instrumentalist and lyricist Kateřina Elznicová says of the album.
Produced by Eddie Stevens (Freakpower, Zero 7, Moloko, Roisin Murphy) the album was pieced together from recorded fragments, meticulously pieced together. The title Unravel refers to the development of the band, unravelling what they are to find the full potential of their music as well as uncovering the layered nature of the songs and emotions.
"Eddie Stevens’ approach to recording was a big surprise. We understood that there was no one right version of the songs. Each of our themes carries a certain energy that can manifest and blossom in many ways. Compared to previous records, the vision of each member was much more evident, while we learned not to cling to our individual ideas of a signifying break or a nu-metal bounce at the end of an ambient song. The main thing was a common concept," adds keyboardist David Tichý on creating the seven songs on the record.
Abum producer Eddie Stevens describes the collaboration, “Each album is an adventure. You do some preparation, check the route over and over, prepare for any eventuality that your packing space and imagination will allow, plan some places to stop and rest en route, places to eat, sleep, then consider the challenges - the ice wall, the summit, even just finding your way in foreign land. But despite all that planning, you can never really say for sure what’s going to happen, what unexpected path you might take, what strangers might invite you in for a cup of tea and to what ends. So it was making Unravel with Manon Meurt and engineer and studio owner Lukas Martinek at Svárov studios and of course back home in the relative safety of my studio. Musicians who quickly became friends showed me more than I showed them, people with ideas, with creativity seeping from their pores. Music making the right way: no blinkers, no walls, no preconceptions, no barriers, no rules. What a pleasure, and what a magical, technicoloured,
kaleidoscopic album we’ve made together, “
The combination of industrial material with plant motifs in the work Untitled_1 by Ukrainian artist Liza Libenko, which adorns the cover of Unravel, strongly attracted the band. After all, floral motifs have always been close to Manon Meurt's music. Libenko, a student of the Academy of Fine Arts and a finalist of the prestigious Austrian Strabag Artaward International Prize, has recently been working on overcoming the narrative boundaries of the canvas, the paintings "attack"the viewer. Sunflowers are a powerful symbol of life and the sun; in Libenko's paintings they are black and burnt, serving as an allegory for contemporary conditions. The work was photographed by photographer and artist Marcel Rozhoň, and the final processing of the Unravel album was done by graphic artist Zuzana Malá.

Andrew Lloyd Webber’s The Phantom of the Opera is one of the most celebrated musicals of all time, and this original London cast recording from 1986 remains the definitive recording. Michael Crawford’s Tony Award-winning performance as The Phantom and Sarah Brightman’s portrayal of Christine Daaé helped make this the best-selling cast recording in history. Re-issued for the first time in decades, this classic album brings the unforgettable score to a new generation of listeners. From the title song to “The Music of the Night” and “All I Ask of You,” every track reflects the power and beauty that continue to make The Phantom of the Opera a global phenomenon nearly forty years after its debut. Since its premiere, The Phantom of the Opera has been seen by more than 160 million people in 195 cities and has received over 70 major theatre awards. It holds the record as the longest-running show in Broadway history and was the first British musical to debut at number one on the music charts. The recording has been certified Platinum in six countries.