Cerca:mirror touch

Returning to Die Schachtel with his fourth full-length with the label, the Genoa born, Bologna based, guitarist and electroacoustic composer, Stefano Pilia, delivers “Lacinia”, a new, immersive cycle of compositions, delving deeper into the realm of metaphysical, spiritual, and divine meaning, weaving astounding arrangements of sonority from a palette of synths, strings, brass, organ, various electroacoustic instruments, and percussion. Resting at a refined intersection of the acoustic and electroacoustic, drone, and chamber music - overwhelmingly beautiful, delicate, and bold, - “Lacinia” stands as a high-water mark in Pilia’s already remarkable and forward-looking career.

Since its founding in Milan during the early years of the new millennium, Die Schachtel has occupied a singular place in the landscape of experimental music, issuing a carefully curated body of reissues and archival releases by historically significant figures and projects like Christina Kubisch, Luciano Cilio, Marino Zuccheri, Prima Materia, Claudio Rocchi, Lino Capra Vaccina, Gruppo di Improvvisazione Nuova Consonanza, Roland Kayn, and numerous others, balanced against bristling contemporary counterparts by the likes of Jim O'Rourke, Giovanni Di Domenico, Nicola Ratti, Luigi ArchettI, Valerio Tricoli, etc. Running like a spine through the label’s output is a deep dedication to the work of the Italian guitarist and electroacoustic composer Stefano Pilia. Now Die Schachtel returns with “Lacinia”, Pilia’s forth full-length with the label and their first release of 2024. Building on the ground of deeply personal engagement with metaphysical, spiritual, and divine meaning, explored within his previous LP with Die Schachtel, 2022’s “Spiralis Aurea”, “Lacinia” encounters the composer working in close calibration with various ensembles, including the Bologna based Ensemble Concordanze and Comunale di Bologna String Orchestra, weaving synths, strings, brass, organ, various electroacoustic instruments, and percussion into an astounding reconfiguration of immersive, contemporary minimalism that stands among Pilia’s most noteworthy releases to date. Issued by Die Schachtel in two special double vinyl editions and a CD edition, “Lacinia” features artwork by Bruno Stucchi/Dinamomilano, and is an absolute marvel that draws you in and doesn’t let go.

First emerging during the early 2000s, over the past two decades – via solo releases and numerous collations with artists like Oren Ambarchi, Valerio Tricoli, Alessandra Novaga, Z'EV, Andrea Belfi, David Grubbs, and numerous others - the Genoa born, Bologna based, guitarist and electroacoustic composer, Stefano Pilia has presented a singular voice within Italian experimental music, harnessing visceral energy and hands-on immediacy within delicately woven tapestries of sonority, each investigating the sculptural properties of sound and illuminating its relationship to space, memory, and the suspension of time. “Lacinia”, Pilia’s forth solo venture with Die Schachtel, encounters the composer reentering his longstanding practice of collaboration with various ensemble forms, including the Bologna based Ensemble Concordanze, for the albums central piece, “Lacinia Off Axis”, spinning stunning string confirmations by Pietro David Carami and Elena Maury on violin, Alessandro Savio on viola, and Mattia Cipolli on cello.

A new, important cycle of compositions by Pilia, “Lacinia” (meaning "lace" in Latin) builds upon the exploration of the metaphysical, spiritual, and divine dimensions through numbers, geometry, and the creation of tonal forms explored by 2022’s “Spiralis Aurea”, mirroring archetypal, immutable forms at the juncture of the abstract realm of mathematics and architectural structures in the physical world, expands the poetics and compositional ideas featured in its predecessor. Regraded by Pilia as both a series of individual compositions and a single work, “Lacinia” was conceived to “define a circular path (a sort of "rhizomatic lace") where the beginning and end touch, suggesting the concept of time not only as linear but also cyclical and ritualistic—an eternal return, a process of transformation where matter changes, its state changes, but without altering the invisible internal principle of mutation”, embarking upon a a series of “steps, degrees, and energetic quanta in a progression of archetypal whole numbers and transcendent creation.”

The resulting 16 tracks unfold as a series of complex sonic meditations. While deeply resonant with the minimalism of composers like Arvo Pärt, LaMonte Young, Pauline Oliveros, and Eliane Radigue, Pilia digs deep and moves far beyond the predictable tonal relationships and structures of that idiom, echoing the ancient liturgical and devotional music of composers like Gesualdo da Venosa, Monteverdi, and John Dowland, at a refined intersection of the acoustic and electroacoustic, drone, and chamber music.

Fascinatingly structured as a whole to include a number of motif returns, across which we encounter works like “Lacinia Off Axis” appearing in slightly different rendering, states, or evolutions three times, and compositions like “Eve” appearing twice in subtly different forms and arrangements - first for four oscillators, guitar and voice and then for string orchestra - as well “Maris Stella”, which similarly makes two appearances, first for horn trio, organ and percussion, and then for string orchestra, with “Lacinia” Pilia delves further into the world of chamber music than ever before, creating a deeply inward, mediative body of work the totality of which, guided by its rich string arrangements of arching, sorrowful tone, feels almost like a mass for some unproclaimed loss; simultaneously locked in the nuances of a moment, while managing to suspend time.

Perhaps most remarkable is Pilia's ability to create a remarkable sense of sonic cohesion while using such a varied number of ensembles and instrumentation. From the sprawling string arrangements delivered by Comunale di Bologna String Orchestra, under the direction of Paolo Mancini, and Ensemble Concordanze, and a flute trio (Cadux / Plectere) brilliantly played by Manuel Zurria, to pieces for sax, organ and percussion, violin duo and percussion, organ and percussion, Pilia manages to create a sense of singular, encompassing world that flows forward like a shifting stream.

Overwhelmingly beautiful, delicate, and bold, “Lacinia” is unquestionably a high-water mark in Stefano Pilia’s already remarkable, forward-looking career. Nothing short of a marvel of contemporary Minimalism that, through its shifting arrangements of harmonics, tonality, and texture draws flickering images of ancient forms of music into the present day, “Lacinia” is Issued by Die Schachtel in two special editions on double vinyl and a CD edition, featuring artwork by Bruno Stucchi/Dinamomilano. This is an immersive all-consuming listen that can’t be missed.

World of Echo unites with the confounding genius of TRii for a highly limited first time vinyl run of 2020's Music For Desert Reboot tape, first released as TRj on the TRjj Musik label and then again as a second cassette by Mascarpone earlier this year.

As with all the sounds produced within the TRjj/TRii /TRj/TRi universe, strange illusion is part of the process, and this is certainly music that befits such smoke and mirror nomenclature, a kind of gamelan Werkbund re-programmed via the isolationist sounds of DIY home electronics conceived for a film that might or might not actually exist. Consider this time-dilation rug-pulling that's well in touch with its own mythology, so much so that it's hard to think of any obvious contemporaries, but if you've ever enjoyed the minimalist murk of Civlistijavel, the private quarters confessionals of Thomas Bush's first LP or any one of Guy Gormley's projects, you'll not got too far wrong here. Is further clarification required? That perhaps misses the point, though there is a track that features around two-thirds in entitled 'First Time Realizing the Clock Was Absent' that might function as a form of instruction to the listener. Namely, where does the time go? Music For Desert Reboot might not provide the answer, but it certainly knows how to ask the question.

The latest release from Berlin-based label PÚCA sounds is a double side fully equipped for the dancefloor, leaving room to explore across both tracks. Cola Ren’s remix of title track King Puck comes smooth and dubby into the chug, swelling with harmony between original percussions spun with Cola’s unmistakable touch.

Bleating is pushed through a late 90s/00s hall of mirrors, rolling with high energy glimmer in the hands of Tornado Wallace. Some ways towards spacey and ultra-danceable, this is a liquid gem of a B-side made to measure as it complements both tracks.

Marja Ahti is a Swedish artist living in Turku, Finland. She works with found sounds, objects and electronics, creating auditory assemblages that reveal a profound sensitivity to sound’s tactile potential. This new record sees her palette expand to include more recognisable acoustic instrumentation, albeit working in collaboration with musicians who are already reconfiguring how those instruments can sound.

Touch This Fragrant Surface of Earth has its roots in a tape piece presented at Lampo in Chicago. Ahti then started working with Isak Hedtjärn (clarinet), Ryan Packard (percussion) and My Hellgren (cello) at the electronic music studios (EMS) in Stockholm. Incorporating recordings from those sessions, Ahti presented a new iteration of the work at the Seventh Edition Festival for Other Music in February 2024 with the trio performing live on stage whilst Ahti helmed the mixing desk, spatialising a specially made tape part through the INA GRM’s Acousmonium speaker orchestra. The piece has since gone through several further iterations before arriving at the version we have here on the LP's B-side where immense bass pressure and high frequency tones buffer restless amplified breath and scrape that folds over itself with extraordinary dynamics and subterranean activity before giving way to gorgeous resonant forms and passages of ritual purpose and sheer, unmistakeable beauty.

The A-side is Touch This Fragrant Surface of Earth’s gentle double. Still Life with Poppies, Mirror and Two Clouds offers a companion reconfiguration of Ahti’s resynthesised percussion sustain and the same recordings of Hedtjärn and Hellgren from EMS, but here they’re nestled in a sonic landscape of calm and restraint that gives them a wholly other character. Ahti also draws on older recordings she’d made of Sholto Dobie’s diy pipe organs and uses these to create repeating patterns and flourishes of sliding pitches that emerge unexpected out of cycling passages of Ahti’s clear struck metal, destabilising electronic interventions and minimal piano figures.

Marja Ahti: “I’ve been fascinated with the kind of elemental quality the sounds I'm using have such as airy sounds or earthy, wooden sounds. These qualities can also be found in wind instruments and percussion and the musicians I worked with on Touch This Fragrant Surface of Earth are really good at enhancing these qualities in their playing. I wanted to have this connection between found sounds, field recordings, or pre-recorded sounds, objects, and material, and see where these sounds might meet each other, and hopefully blend is a natural way without a divide between instrumental music, or acoustic music, or electronic music. But also, when you bring in people they come with their personalities and their ideas which is also energizing and brings surprising things into the collaboration that I couldn't come up with myself. I was really interested in making this a proper collaboration and not just coming up with the piece and giving it to them. We had the sessions at EMS where we could share ideas and Isak, Ryan and My could bring in their own ideas. Making recordings there gave me time to process these ideas and to also approach them in the same way that I would work with any other sound.”

In the world of Pharaoh Overlord, little is ever as it seems. This band is less comprised of tricksters or mischief makers than fearless obsessives whose musical instincts take twisted and wild pathways. Now, fresh from forays into Italo-disco and synth-pop, they have thrown another still more mighty statement of intent into the universe. Louhi is a thunderous and majestic epic of joyful repetition and earth shaking power. A two-track minimalist-rock monolith forged from guitars, synths and hurdy-gurdy, inspired by the band’s eternal touchstone influence Outside The Dream Syndicate by Tony Conrad and Faust, and constructed around a single riff and melodic idea, it builds and evolves to fearsome pinnacles of elemental intensity.Luminaries and constant compatriots in the Pharaoh Overlord
headspace were recruited for this voyage into the ether. Vocalist and longtime collaborator Aaron Turner (SUMAC, Isis, Old Man Gloom)and Tyneside maverick Richard Dawson were equally keen to get on board, the former taking a spontaneous and improvisatory approach to his vocal parts, and the latter largely playing a part consisting of one guitar chord. Yet whatever routes Pharaoh Overlord take to their destination, a common theme is the consciousness-warping singularity of the riff and the mantra, and the temporal disorientation this can provoke mirrors the broader designs of this record, which takes traditional folk elements and transports them in the band’s singular time machine. “It’s our 25th Anniversary this year, and from time to time we hear wishes that if just we could play more of the stuff that we did twenty or more years ago” relate Jussi and Tomi. “We totally understand this. You could say we used Louhi to reset ourselves to the past, to be able to continue again to the future.” Aaron puts it another way, evoking simplicity in the chaos – “The world of Pharaoh Overlord is a magical one - every album is an invitation to enter that place and rejoice in doing so…”

Depth.Request proudly announces the debut full-length album from French electronic artist Pierre Berge-Cia - a culmination of two years of dedicated experimentation and creative exploration. This inaugural LP represents a significant milestone in Pierre Berge-Cia's musical journey, showcasing his innovative approach to electronic music.

Crafted through experimental processes and delving into themes of tension, control, and movement, "If You Do, Then When?" unfolds as a visceral journey through the complexities of bodily and sensory experience. Each track is designed to reflect the human body in all its shapes and forms, using innovative sounds and structures to evoke physicality and movement, and aiming to resonate with listeners on a deeply corporeal level.

The album was produced using a combination of the Elektron Digitone synth, a Mackie CR1604 mixer, a Shure SM57 microphone, and a limited selection of digital plugins to maintain sonic consistency. Mastering was handled by Pierre's close friend, Stefan Brown - also known as "Lesser Of". His expertise as a top-tier sound engineer at Abbey Road Studios helped shape the LP's pristine and powerful sound identity. Additionally, the tracks were tested and refined using some of the electronic scene's most beloved sound systems, ensuring an impactful club experience.

The album's artwork, created by Pierre Berge-Cia himself, is a reinterpretation of one of his favorite art performances: "Rest Energy" by Marina Abramovic and Ulay. The tension of the drawn bow and the close-up framing of the subject evoke a palpable sense of danger and emotional intensity, mirroring the physical and psychological strains within human connection. Pierre used his own hands as the model, infusing the artwork with a deeply personal and intimate touch that amplifies the psychic gravity and thematic cohesion of the album.

Pierre Berge-Cia's debut LP is a multi-sensory experience that challenges listeners to feel sound in its most physical and affective form.

Remember: you could be dreaming. Sinking or flying, sound-catching or singing. Witnessing a distant storm in silence, how it exposes purple clouds in unpredictable flashes. Hearing a submarine eruption and finding natal comfort in the warm, fragrant smoke that only wants to sheathe all your edges. The circus has left, only placards remain. And the snow. Look how the flakes sway to your feet without effort - any distance is misleading, illusory. There’s only dream and memory – the two wings of a bird that flaps with an ocean wave, blinks with an eye of a lighthouse. Fragile, you could be dreaming not alone, holding hands with the core of things. The molten core, like touching ice. You could be dreaming. Dreaming in perfect memories of shapes imperfect. Dreaming of the earth raining from the sky, of the wind inside the sea, of the lighthouse & the ship kissing, of exotic fishes in the bay of your ear. Everything is real. If you play. If you dare to ignore the margins. Echoes go on forever. They play with themselves in a stream of mirrors. Echoes of a forgotten language, of a language unwritten - a soothing, indifferent creole that reconciles feeling with understanding. Bathe in the fountain at the source of resonance. Bathe in the clouds on the eyes of intimate strangers passing. Disappear. Disappear and be seen, like the moonlit mist behind your eyes. And sway between hope and wisdom.

All songs written, performed and produced by Sasha Vinogradova and Alina Anufrienko
Recorded in Garnet village, Dmitrovsky region, Russian Federation (February 2020)

Kneading dough is tricky – you should know how it’s supposed to feel. If you try too hard you could make it worse. It’s a beautiful practice – creation with a gentle touch, to work at something so it can be left alone. “If it’s too drawn out it’s awful. It’s easy to give too much.” Dance in the mirror. Contemplate your veiny hands. Who do they remind you of?

You begin by mixing flour and water. “What happens when your people die? Why’d they move the rock to the other side of Ulster Park?” Eliza Niemi asks two seemingly unrelated questions in a rising melody with guitar accompaniment, like fingers playing spider up to the nape of your neck. Gentle pressure. Strands of gluten form to bind the mix. A new question lingers in the binding. When she admits “but I don’t know how to tell if I’m feeling it or not,” that question surfaces through the text. It is reiterated throughout the album. When I’m working with dough I think the same thing to myself.

On Progress Bakery, her second album as a solo artist, Eliza knows to leave some questions alone – to let juxtaposition and tension be the proof. It doesn’t have to be hard. The feelings and revelations they provoke rise in the heat. The smell is sweet. Crispy on the outside and soft all the way through. She playfully slip-slides through words and sounds and images, delighting in surprise, skimming ideas like stones cast across clear water, touching down briefly with uncommon grace.

The question provoked between those opening lines resurfaces in the strands between songs – “Do U FM” is fully formed and beautifully layered, while “Novelist Sad Face” is a short, acapella rendering of gentle curiosity. What is holding these ideas together? Some songs demand more, seem to carry a whole load – eventually the skipping stone will halt to sink and resume its idle duty – while others drift in and out of focus, the way thoughts and dreams become interwoven before the mind is sunk into true sleep.

Music and words don’t always have to interact. Where she decides to keep them apart gives a new contour to where and how she puts them together. The kind of thing you’re supposed to take for granted with songs and their singers comes alive in Eliza’s hands – the little miracle of mixing, kneading, stretching, and stopping.

So often on Progress Bakery, Eliza teases out truth and meaning by asking questions. “Do I wanna be crying?” “Do you want me good or do you want me bad?” “Do I need an eye test?” “I’m writing songs in my head while you’re going over stuff with me — is that cruel??” In “Pocky” Eliza ends with a question that feels to me like the actual biography, succinct and revealing:

I don’t wanna be made to see
I just wanna ask “what’s that?”

Grace that ought to be rare, but in its care and precision is offered humbly, with great generosity, and without announcing itself. Eliza’s simple, miraculous music is given further form and shape by a group of collaborators – invaluable guest musicians Jeremy Ray, Evan Cartwright, Steven McPhail, Kenny Boothby, Ed Squires, Carolina Chauffe, Dorothea Paas, Louie Short, and Avalon Tassonyi. Together with Louie Short, who recorded, mixed, and produced the album along with Jeremy Ray and Lukas Cheung, Eliza has cultivated a richness in sound and texture that prods and provokes the ticklish ear. Barely audible guitar tinkering, a brief lo-fi field recording of trumpets, the harmonic clicking of a looped synthesizer, a flourish of reeds, a child’s conversation, each uncanny sound perfectly placed, rippling out under a soft breeze.

Lay in bed alone at night and ask aloud to the stillness,

“What were you doing at the Albuquerque Airport?
What were you doing there??”

And hear your question answered by a dream of swelling, undulating cellos. Try to grasp at the melody and structure. It’s not an answer (if there could be one), but it moves deeper, closer to the weird layer of fleeting moments and disconnected images, barely perceptible at its core. Wait for the dream reel to click into place.

Eliza took me for a ride in Nicole (her beloved Dodge Grand Caravan) and told me she’d been thinking of the album as an embodiment of transition – and I think every transition, known or unknown, carries the weight of new meaning, skittering off the surface tension of life as you know it, creating ripples, sometimes bouncing off and sometimes breaking through. There is a trick you can use to tell if a dough is glutinous enough. You’re supposed to stretch it out as thin as you can without breaking it and hold it up to the light. If you can see through, even if it renders the world murky and uncertain, you should leave it alone. I love this trick. It’s one that Eliza seems to know intuitively: work gently and ask questions and don’t always expect answers, and when you can, take a glimpse at something new, and then leave.

Kneading dough is tricky – you should know how it’s supposed to feel. If you try too hard you could make it worse. It’s a beautiful practice – creation with a gentle touch, to work at something so it can be left alone. “If it’s too drawn out it’s awful. It’s easy to give too much.” Dance in the mirror. Contemplate your veiny hands. Who do they remind you of?

You begin by mixing flour and water. “What happens when your people die? Why’d they move the rock to the other side of Ulster Park?” Eliza Niemi asks two seemingly unrelated questions in a rising melody with guitar accompaniment, like fingers playing spider up to the nape of your neck. Gentle pressure. Strands of gluten form to bind the mix. A new question lingers in the binding. When she admits “but I don’t know how to tell if I’m feeling it or not,” that question surfaces through the text. It is reiterated throughout the album. When I’m working with dough I think the same thing to myself.

On Progress Bakery, her second album as a solo artist, Eliza knows to leave some questions alone – to let juxtaposition and tension be the proof. It doesn’t have to be hard. The feelings and revelations they provoke rise in the heat. The smell is sweet. Crispy on the outside and soft all the way through. She playfully slip-slides through words and sounds and images, delighting in surprise, skimming ideas like stones cast across clear water, touching down briefly with uncommon grace.

The question provoked between those opening lines resurfaces in the strands between songs – “Do U FM” is fully formed and beautifully layered, while “Novelist Sad Face” is a short, acapella rendering of gentle curiosity. What is holding these ideas together? Some songs demand more, seem to carry a whole load – eventually the skipping stone will halt to sink and resume its idle duty – while others drift in and out of focus, the way thoughts and dreams become interwoven before the mind is sunk into true sleep.

Music and words don’t always have to interact. Where she decides to keep them apart gives a new contour to where and how she puts them together. The kind of thing you’re supposed to take for granted with songs and their singers comes alive in Eliza’s hands – the little miracle of mixing, kneading, stretching, and stopping.

So often on Progress Bakery, Eliza teases out truth and meaning by asking questions. “Do I wanna be crying?” “Do you want me good or do you want me bad?” “Do I need an eye test?” “I’m writing songs in my head while you’re going over stuff with me — is that cruel??” In “Pocky” Eliza ends with a question that feels to me like the actual biography, succinct and revealing:

I don’t wanna be made to see
I just wanna ask “what’s that?”

Grace that ought to be rare, but in its care and precision is offered humbly, with great generosity, and without announcing itself. Eliza’s simple, miraculous music is given further form and shape by a group of collaborators – invaluable guest musicians Jeremy Ray, Evan Cartwright, Steven McPhail, Kenny Boothby, Ed Squires, Carolina Chauffe, Dorothea Paas, Louie Short, and Avalon Tassonyi. Together with Louie Short, who recorded, mixed, and produced the album along with Jeremy Ray and Lukas Cheung, Eliza has cultivated a richness in sound and texture that prods and provokes the ticklish ear. Barely audible guitar tinkering, a brief lo-fi field recording of trumpets, the harmonic clicking of a looped synthesizer, a flourish of reeds, a child’s conversation, each uncanny sound perfectly placed, rippling out under a soft breeze.

Lay in bed alone at night and ask aloud to the stillness,

“What were you doing at the Albuquerque Airport?
What were you doing there??”

And hear your question answered by a dream of swelling, undulating cellos. Try to grasp at the melody and structure. It’s not an answer (if there could be one), but it moves deeper, closer to the weird layer of fleeting moments and disconnected images, barely perceptible at its core. Wait for the dream reel to click into place.

Eliza took me for a ride in Nicole (her beloved Dodge Grand Caravan) and told me she’d been thinking of the album as an embodiment of transition – and I think every transition, known or unknown, carries the weight of new meaning, skittering off the surface tension of life as you know it, creating ripples, sometimes bouncing off and sometimes breaking through. There is a trick you can use to tell if a dough is glutinous enough. You’re supposed to stretch it out as thin as you can without breaking it and hold it up to the light. If you can see through, even if it renders the world murky and uncertain, you should leave it alone. I love this trick. It’s one that Eliza seems to know intuitively: work gently and ask questions and don’t always expect answers, and when you can, take a glimpse at something new, and then leave.

Kneading dough is tricky – you should know how it’s supposed to feel. If you try too hard you could make it worse. It’s a beautiful practice – creation with a gentle touch, to work at something so it can be left alone. “If it’s too drawn out it’s awful. It’s easy to give too much.” Dance in the mirror. Contemplate your veiny hands. Who do they remind you of?

You begin by mixing flour and water. “What happens when your people die? Why’d they move the rock to the other side of Ulster Park?” Eliza Niemi asks two seemingly unrelated questions in a rising melody with guitar accompaniment, like fingers playing spider up to the nape of your neck. Gentle pressure. Strands of gluten form to bind the mix. A new question lingers in the binding. When she admits “but I don’t know how to tell if I’m feeling it or not,” that question surfaces through the text. It is reiterated throughout the album. When I’m working with dough I think the same thing to myself.

On Progress Bakery, her second album as a solo artist, Eliza knows to leave some questions alone – to let juxtaposition and tension be the proof. It doesn’t have to be hard. The feelings and revelations they provoke rise in the heat. The smell is sweet. Crispy on the outside and soft all the way through. She playfully slip-slides through words and sounds and images, delighting in surprise, skimming ideas like stones cast across clear water, touching down briefly with uncommon grace.

The question provoked between those opening lines resurfaces in the strands between songs – “Do U FM” is fully formed and beautifully layered, while “Novelist Sad Face” is a short, acapella rendering of gentle curiosity. What is holding these ideas together? Some songs demand more, seem to carry a whole load – eventually the skipping stone will halt to sink and resume its idle duty – while others drift in and out of focus, the way thoughts and dreams become interwoven before the mind is sunk into true sleep.

Music and words don’t always have to interact. Where she decides to keep them apart gives a new contour to where and how she puts them together. The kind of thing you’re supposed to take for granted with songs and their singers comes alive in Eliza’s hands – the little miracle of mixing, kneading, stretching, and stopping.

So often on Progress Bakery, Eliza teases out truth and meaning by asking questions. “Do I wanna be crying?” “Do you want me good or do you want me bad?” “Do I need an eye test?” “I’m writing songs in my head while you’re going over stuff with me — is that cruel??” In “Pocky” Eliza ends with a question that feels to me like the actual biography, succinct and revealing:

I don’t wanna be made to see
I just wanna ask “what’s that?”

Grace that ought to be rare, but in its care and precision is offered humbly, with great generosity, and without announcing itself. Eliza’s simple, miraculous music is given further form and shape by a group of collaborators – invaluable guest musicians Jeremy Ray, Evan Cartwright, Steven McPhail, Kenny Boothby, Ed Squires, Carolina Chauffe, Dorothea Paas, Louie Short, and Avalon Tassonyi. Together with Louie Short, who recorded, mixed, and produced the album along with Jeremy Ray and Lukas Cheung, Eliza has cultivated a richness in sound and texture that prods and provokes the ticklish ear. Barely audible guitar tinkering, a brief lo-fi field recording of trumpets, the harmonic clicking of a looped synthesizer, a flourish of reeds, a child’s conversation, each uncanny sound perfectly placed, rippling out under a soft breeze.

Lay in bed alone at night and ask aloud to the stillness,

“What were you doing at the Albuquerque Airport?
What were you doing there??”

And hear your question answered by a dream of swelling, undulating cellos. Try to grasp at the melody and structure. It’s not an answer (if there could be one), but it moves deeper, closer to the weird layer of fleeting moments and disconnected images, barely perceptible at its core. Wait for the dream reel to click into place.

Eliza took me for a ride in Nicole (her beloved Dodge Grand Caravan) and told me she’d been thinking of the album as an embodiment of transition – and I think every transition, known or unknown, carries the weight of new meaning, skittering off the surface tension of life as you know it, creating ripples, sometimes bouncing off and sometimes breaking through. There is a trick you can use to tell if a dough is glutinous enough. You’re supposed to stretch it out as thin as you can without breaking it and hold it up to the light. If you can see through, even if it renders the world murky and uncertain, you should leave it alone. I love this trick. It’s one that Eliza seems to know intuitively: work gently and ask questions and don’t always expect answers, and when you can, take a glimpse at something new, and then leave.

So 2020 was going to be the year of Van Weezer -- the big riffs rock album Weezer made as an homage to the metal bands they loved growing up -- until, thanks to the global pandemic, it suddenly wasn't. The entire time, however, Weezer frontman Rivers Cuomo was busy at the piano, writing a very different album that referenced another vital musical touchstone of his youth: The Beach Boys' Pet Sounds.



Throughout the summer of Covid-19, he and the band -- along with a 38 piece orchestra -- chipped away at masked recording sessions until the record was complete. The result is an album called OK Human -- a cheeky nod to Radiohead's technophobic future-trip OK Computer, but sounding nothing at all like that record. Taking the listener bit by bit through parts of Cuomo's every day, it's a Technicolor symphonic spree that meditates on how over-and-under-connected we all are, particularly in a year where we can see each other with greater ease, but actually can't physically be near each other at all.





OK Human is also packed to the brim with some of the best, most personal songs Cuomo has written in the last decade, all of which shine brighter and bolder with splashes of string and horn arrangements courtesy of album producer Jake Sinclair and arranger Rob Mathes. It's hard to imagine any other band who came up in the alt haze of the 90s creating a simply perfect orchestral pop album, but that is exactly what Weezer's done; OK Human is a testament to the excellent, enduring melodies Cuomo has written since Weezer's inception, and the ones he continues to write today.

Filled with aural magic and enchanting musical spells, Sorcerer is true to its name. The third of five albums by Miles Davis’ legendary Second Great Quintet — and the second record in a still-unprecedented string of eight consecutive releases within a four-year period that forever changed the face of jazz — the 1967 effort mesmerizes with instrumental colors, subdued musings, and subtle details. These crucial characteristics blossom with vibrant realism on Mobile Fidelity’s 180g 33RPM SuperVinyl LP.

Sourced from the original master tapes and pressed at Fidelity Record Pressing, this numbered-edition audiophile edition of Sorcerer joins the ranks of other essential Davis records given supreme sonic and packaging treatment by Mobile Fidelity. Longtime listeners will immediately recognize a wealth of information and depth of tonality unavailable on prior versions. The myriad shadings, interwoven textures, and relaxed nuances that tie the post-bop set’s warm compositions together are rendered with utmost realism. Credit goes to MoFi’s engineers as well as the label’s groundbreaking SuperVinyl profile that features the lowest-possible noise floor as well as sublime transparency, dead-quiet surfaces, and superb groove definition.

By any measure, this is a reference reissue. You’ll hear poetic lyricism pouring out of Wayne Shorter’s horn, the breadth and definition of the notes spreading across an enormous soundstage. Never before have drummer Tony Williams’ rim shots ricocheted with such purpose or his light percussive work mirrored that of a feather touching skin. Similarly, Herbie Hancock’s piano runs occupy their own space, where their relationship to the central rhythms and front line becomes clearer.

Prizing inflection and nuance more so than heady solos or uptempo flights, Sorcerer mesmerizes with cerebral properties and cascades of emotional interplay. Such beauty emerges in the mellow ballad “Pee Wee,” an indelible statement of restrained authority and sophisticated expression. The swirling title track unfolds as jazz shadowplay, Hancock, Shorter, and Williams mirroring one another’s moves with guile and purpose. The opening “Prince of Darkness” showcases the ensemble’s reach and communication, every musician going in seemingly different directions yet ending up on the same page.

A lasting example of Davis’ visionary insight, Sorcerer is comprised entirely of pieces written by his band mates. Indeed, save for the closing “Nothing Like You” — a brief tribute to Davis’ eventual wife, who also graces the cover, recorded in 1962 and adorned with vocals from Bob Dorough — the album represents a further maturation and refinement of a quintet that stands as one of the finest in jazz history.

MoFi SuperVinyl
Developed by NEOTECH and RTI, MoFi SuperVinyl is the most exacting-to-specification vinyl compound ever devised. Analog lovers have never seen (or heard) anything like it. Extraordinarily expensive and extremely painstaking to produce, the special proprietary compound addresses two specific areas of improvement: noise floor reduction and enhanced groove definition. The vinyl composition features a new carbonless dye (hold the disc up to the light and see) and produces the world’s quietest surfaces. This high-definition formula also allows for the creation of cleaner grooves that are virtually indistinguishable from the original lacquer. MoFi SuperVinyl provides the closest approximation of what the label’s engineers hear in the mastering lab.

Linking music and literature, building a bridge between the written and the sung – only the greats have managed to do this in the past. Leonard Cohen, Scott Walker, and Patti Smith were just some of the shining stars that Anna B Savage orientated herself towards as a teenager. Born on the anniversary of Bach’s death, the young musician spent her birthday every year in the Green Room of the Royal Albert Hall watching her parents perform compositions by the grand master. That shaped her. Today, thanks to albums such as her debut, “A Common Turn” (2021), and the incredibly sensual art-pop opus “in|FLUX” (2023), the singer-songwriter is one of the truly exceptional talents on the British independent scene. In her music, otherworldly vocals nestle up against chamber orchestral compositions, delicate arrangements rise up and blow away, and the musician’s highly eclectic sound grows song by song into an experience that lingers for days and weeks. Potentially life-changing.
A sense of rootedness is at the heart of Anna B Savage’s third record You and i are Earth, a record that is as much about healing as it is an unbowed sense of curiosity, and, more simply, “a love letter to a man and to Ireland.” Following on from her critically acclaimed records A Common Turn and in|FLUX, You and i are Earth manages to convey a sense of intimacy, while also being open-ended. Gentleness is as radiant a touchstone on the record as earthiness, something that Savage attributes to the place she finds herself at present, both geographically and emotionally. And quite literally the record bears witness to a particular piece of earth - Ireland, and Savage’s relationship to it as her new home. That process is brilliantly rendered on Agnes, a complicated piece of work featuring Anna Mieke that turns on tropes of duality and transformation. It mirrors an unsettling experience that Savage had through meditation, which ultimately ended in an immersive, beautiful feeling, “I felt like I was part of the earth, completely connected to the mycelium network, I felt like I was where I was meant to be.” In many ways, that experience framed the album’s artwork, a photograph taken in some woodlands in Co. Sligo, with Savage looking up at the trees, their fractals reflected in her eyes, mirroring something she had felt in her meditation, bringing us back full circle, and to that sense that we are essentially in unison, or at least striving to be, that “you and I are earth”.

Linking music and literature, building a bridge between the written and the sung – only the greats have managed to do this in the past. Leonard Cohen, Scott Walker, and Patti Smith were just some of the shining stars that Anna B Savage orientated herself towards as a teenager. Born on the anniversary of Bach’s death, the young musician spent her birthday every year in the Green Room of the Royal Albert Hall watching her parents perform compositions by the grand master. That shaped her. Today, thanks to albums such as her debut, “A Common Turn” (2021), and the incredibly sensual art-pop opus “in|FLUX” (2023), the singer-songwriter is one of the truly exceptional talents on the British independent scene. In her music, otherworldly vocals nestle up against chamber orchestral compositions, delicate arrangements rise up and blow away, and the musician’s highly eclectic sound grows song by song into an experience that lingers for days and weeks. Potentially life-changing.
A sense of rootedness is at the heart of Anna B Savage’s third record You and i are Earth, a record that is as much about healing as it is an unbowed sense of curiosity, and, more simply, “a love letter to a man and to Ireland.” Following on from her critically acclaimed records A Common Turn and in|FLUX, You and i are Earth manages to convey a sense of intimacy, while also being open-ended. Gentleness is as radiant a touchstone on the record as earthiness, something that Savage attributes to the place she finds herself at present, both geographically and emotionally. And quite literally the record bears witness to a particular piece of earth - Ireland, and Savage’s relationship to it as her new home. That process is brilliantly rendered on Agnes, a complicated piece of work featuring Anna Mieke that turns on tropes of duality and transformation. It mirrors an unsettling experience that Savage had through meditation, which ultimately ended in an immersive, beautiful feeling, “I felt like I was part of the earth, completely connected to the mycelium network, I felt like I was where I was meant to be.” In many ways, that experience framed the album’s artwork, a photograph taken in some woodlands in Co. Sligo, with Savage looking up at the trees, their fractals reflected in her eyes, mirroring something she had felt in her meditation, bringing us back full circle, and to that sense that we are essentially in unison, or at least striving to be, that “you and I are earth”.

Naoki Zushi. Perhaps best known for his stellar guitar contributions to psych folk group, Nagisa Ni Te, Zushi has had a parallel career, for several decades, slowly releasing solo albums that spotlight his exultant guitar playing. Originally released to CD only by Shinji Shibayama of Nagisa Ni Te’s Org imprint in 2018, IV has Zushi playing and writing at a peak, its six songs slowly unfurling with a kind of paradoxical understated grandeur. This is psychedelic guitar music at its most paced and considered, yet given to flights of inspiration, and in this respect, Zushi sits within a lineage of guitarists who’ve used their instrument both as textural anchor and improvisatory tool – think of figures like Phil Manzanera and Robert Fripp, but also Roy Montgomery, Liz Harris of Grouper, even Tom Verlaine on his instrumental solo albums. Like those artists, Zushi locates moments of deep emotional resonance amidst luxuriant textural and melodic exploration. Zushi’s history stretches back to the mid 1970s. While for many, he first appeared on the scene as a founding member of noise legends Hijokaidan, alongside Jojo Hiroshige, his musical contributions predate that encounter. He started out playing progressive rock and improvised music, making home recordings of when he was in high school. He was a member of Rasenkaidan (Spiral Staircase) alongside Hiroshige and Idiot (Kenichi Takayama), the group that soon mutated into Hijokaidan (Emergency Staircase). Zushi and Takayama would soon form Idiot O’Clock, in 1982; Zushi also led his own Naoki Zushi Unit, starting in 1983. But for many, Zushi’s first significant appearance on record was as a member of Shinji Shibayama’s mid-eighties psych-pop group, Hallelujahs, whose sole album was recently reissued on vinyl. That group mutated into Nagisa Ni Te, and Zushi has played a significant role as their lead guitarist for several decades. His own solo music has appeared sporadically – Paradise (1987), Phenomenal Luciferin (1998), III (2005) and IV, with a few recent, meditative offerings, For My Friends’ Sleep (2021) and Nocturnes (2022). With IV, though, Zushi achieved something remarkable, a kind of extended exploration of the time-altering properties of echoplexed, hypnotically spiralling guitar interplay. The opening ‘Mirror’, “a song about the mirror inside me,” Zushi explains, starts out as a lush psych-folk song, slow and gentle, but soon takes to the skies with a cat’s cradle of Fripp-esque guitars, before thick, droning chords sweep the song to a drowsy coda. ‘Nocturne’ weaves silver skeins of guitar melody around a cyclical chord pattern; it gathers energy and quiet intensity through insistent repetition. The rest of the album explores the nuance Zushi can draw out of simple elements, building on what ‘Mirror’ and ‘Nocturne’ offer – the profundity of a chord change; the melancholy of a few quietly sighed words; the exhilaration of a guitar solo bursting out of the speakers; the subtle shifts in emotional register offered by tone and touch. Throughout, there’s something quiet, yet ineffable, shading the contours of the songs, such that it makes perfect sense when Zushi says, “What I want to express through music may be ‘sense of mystery’.” A few of the songs had their basic parts recorded at LM Studio and Studio Nemu with Shibayama and Masako Takeda joining on bass and drums, respectively; much of the album, however, was tracked at Zushi’s home studio. That seems appropriate for a collection of songs that are expansive in their intimacy. Asked what drove the sessions, Zushi answers, “I thought I’d make IV an album that particularly focuses on the guitar play.” And focus it does, as Zushi’s sky-scraping, soaring, elemental tone is front and centre throughout. But these are no guitar heroics; rather, Zushi uses the guitar as conduit and diviner, a tool for spirit location, and IV is his most eloquent expression yet of such singular magic.

The highly anticipated follow-up to Thee Sacred Souls's breakout 2022 self-titled debut, Got A Story To Tell, features 12 all original new songs, a soaring statement of exquisite craftsmanship from this young band from San Diego whose story grows bigger by the day. Recorded and produced by Gabriel Roth at Penrose Recorders, in Daptone’s Riverside, CA studio, and written in the throes of supporting their 2022 album, which was met with significant excitement and major touring that brought them across the world. What swirls together on Got A Story To Tell is an appreciation of decades of soul music, and beyond - a sound and feel that is timeless, lived in, and very much in the now. Album opener “Lucid Girl” champions independent women, set to some of the toughest sounding drums and bass the band has yet to put to tape. “Waiting On The Right Time” slinks with a touch of slow-burning psychedelia. A plea for empathy punctuates “One and the Same,” with Lane singing: “We’re one and the same, I feel one day / We learn to live with each other / In love, not fear / Just for a moment, why can’t we be together.” “On My Mind” is a sweeping orchestration, with Lane navigating the complexities of finding happiness while balancing the good with the bad. The album is punctuated with strings and squelching guitar, trundling piano, pops of conga, horns - it makes for a thrilling, layered listen that rewards with multiple spins.

The highly anticipated follow-up to Thee Sacred Souls's breakout 2022 self-titled debut, Got A Story To Tell, features 12 all original new songs, a soaring statement of exquisite craftsmanship from this young band from San Diego whose story grows bigger by the day. Recorded and produced by Gabriel Roth at Penrose Recorders, in Daptone’s Riverside, CA studio, and written in the throes of supporting their 2022 album, which was met with significant excitement and major touring that brought them across the world. What swirls together on Got A Story To Tell is an appreciation of decades of soul music, and beyond - a sound and feel that is timeless, lived in, and very much in the now. Album opener “Lucid Girl” champions independent women, set to some of the toughest sounding drums and bass the band has yet to put to tape. “Waiting On The Right Time” slinks with a touch of slow-burning psychedelia. A plea for empathy punctuates “One and the Same,” with Lane singing: “We’re one and the same, I feel one day / We learn to live with each other / In love, not fear / Just for a moment, why can’t we be together.” “On My Mind” is a sweeping orchestration, with Lane navigating the complexities of finding happiness while balancing the good with the bad. The album is punctuated with strings and squelching guitar, trundling piano, pops of conga, horns - it makes for a thrilling, layered listen that rewards with multiple spins.

The Brazilian composer, pianist and producer, Mário Castro Neves and his group, Samba S. A.'s self-titled album from 1967 is oozing with class. It possesses that archetypal 60's bossa nova, jazz, samba sound. We’d place it up there with Sergio Mendes at his finest, Tambo Trio or Milton Banana. It’s a breezy ride that touches on easy listening at times, but it holds it together with a cool swagger. Biba and Thaís Do Amaral's vocals are on point, with a relaxed delivery that compliments the tracks with the sublime beauty à la vocal groups such as Quarteto Em Cy, who Biba also sang with, as well as with Antonio Adolfo's e A Brazuca. Also appearing on the record is bassist extraordinaire, Novelli who worked with Milton Nascimento, Nelson Angelo E Joyce, Airto, and many of the greats of Brazilian music of the time.

The album has long been a favourite with DJs and collectors over the years, with songs selected for compilations by Gilles Peterson and Nicola Conte. One of the centrepieces of the album, 'Candomblé’, has been sampled by Cut Chemist on his track 'Povo De Santo'. The song 'Naña' is punchy and light with dancefloor-jazz appeal. The gloriously catchy 'Vem Balançar' is a brilliant bossa shuffler. A superb listen throughout, the album sticks to a framework but delivers in spades.

Though released on the major-label RCA Victor, original copies are elusive, sought-after items with a price tag to match. For this reissue, we have opted for the Mono master, mirroring the original 1967 Brazilian pressing. Instantly familiar, the album has a welcoming feeling of nostalgia and is something that stays with you from the first listen.

DJ Subaru has already made their name exciting dancers with offbeat anthems and obscurities as part of their luminous Pleasuremaxxx parties, alongside similarly inclined soirees in Leeds, London, Berlin and beyond. Making their accomplished production debut on CWPT with 'Lots of Love', DJ Subaru instinctively mines the expressive, outsider strains of disco, Italo and pop pleasures in their record bag, revealing an EP that throbs with the pleasures, pain and potential of a life in strobes and smoke.

Vocalist and muse Tiss Vampiric emerges from London’s shadowy underground to lend their voice to the brooding, disco-Gothic track, ‘My Love’. Stalking a moody paradise amongst DJ Subaru’s EBM-oriented synthesizers, their baroque lyrics conjure an atmosphere that bridges the energies of subversive pioneers such as Soft Cell and Ministry, a sensual maze where denial only leads to more devotion, as well as more dancing.

Keeping the lights dim but brightening the corners, the prolific cosmic disco pioneer Prins Thomas reinvigorates his legendary ‘Discomiks’ approach for a euphoric remix of ‘My Love’. Incorporating DJ Subaru and Tiss Vampiric into a dancefloor canon that also includes Lana Del Rey, Pet Shop Boys and the Chemical Brothers, this classic arrangement has been road-tested to build euphoria, joyfully reflecting menace from mirrorballs.

The latter portion within 'Lots of Love' leaves us entirely in DJ Subaru’s musical visions. The only voice on ‘I <3 You’ is soft and robotic, intoning the track’s simple title over a lush, caramelized groove that’s pure circuits and sentiment. In contrast, the moody pads of ‘Just Visiting’ build to a crescendo of breaks and basslines that capture more urgent early hours energy, while ‘She’ provides a beautifully naive melody and a slightly balearic touch for a wide-eyed kiss goodbye.

Needle Mythology, the label founded by music writer, author and broadcaster Pete Paphides, is thrilled to announce the signing of the eagerly anticipated debut album by London singer-songwriter and renowned DJ Iraina Mancini. Iraina’s singular pop vision will be known to regular listeners of 6 Music, where her singles ‘Undo The Blue’, ‘Deep End’, ‘Shotgun’ and ‘Do It (You Stole The Rhythm)’ have all been enthusiastically embraced. Iraina's obsession with music stretches back into her early childhood, much of which was spent absorbing her parents’ collection of old 45s, in particular her dad’s Northern Soul records – an alternative education which meant that, by her early 20s, she was a familiar presence in the DJ booth at many discerning London club nights. Her love of French ye-ye, British freakbeat, Brazilian bossa nova, soul, and Turkish psych will be well-known to regular listeners of her Soho Radio show. Having always sung from a young age, Iraina embarked on a string of collaborators such as Jagz Kooner (Sabres Of Paradise), Sunglasses For Jaws (Miles Kane) and Simon Dine (Paul Weller, Noonday Underground) which truly saw her find her metier as a songwriter, conjuring melodies that stand shoulder to shoulder alongside her impeccable influences. Iraina describes her first single for Needle Mythology ‘Cannonball’ as “a celebration of that moment when you meet someone you really fall for and it knocks you for six. It can be a bit scary, but you’ve just got to go with what your intuition is telling you.” Written with Simon Dine, the vertiginous heart-in-mouth abandon of the song perfectly mirrors the circumstances that brought it into being. Iraina cites Jacqueline Taïeb’s 1967 single 7h du Matin as an early inspiration for the song: “There’s such a great energy about that song. Her vocal is amazing and all those stops and starts that grab your attention.” “This is an artist I absolutely love, one of our rising stars at 6Music.“ Lauren Laverne BBC 6Music “Iraina seizes on the best aspects of the past, blurring those impeccable 60s and 70s influences with a touch of modernity.” Clash “Full of femme fatale poise and swooning chanteuse flourishes.” The Times

A home, a house, has countless frequencies. Each room, each corner feels different. Swings differently. And as you grow older, you realize which corner is yours. But yeah, it takes time…

It certainly marks the end of an era when the house one called home as a kid no longer exists. This home, it was the starting point of so many journeys. Of one big, ongoing journey. And so it feels good, soothing, reassuring to at least return to a spot nearby – to that (proverbial) hill from where you can see it. Feel the vibe that made you.

Andi Haberl’s debut solo album as Sun is sort of dedicated to that house. It’s a journey leading to that hill overlooking everything that made him. It’s not about nostalgia, not about actually returning to a specific place. Instead, it’s about finding a personal frequency, an overlapping of sounds and samples, an open space that mirrors and extends whatever frequencies felt right at different points in time.

“To me, the results feel like Gold Panda/Four Tet meets Steve Reich meets Krautrock meets film scores. I just really wanted to create moods that touch me – and ideally others, too.”

Talking about his first solo album, Haberl recalls many stages: early compositions that ended up on Alien Ensemble’s albums, early DIY/home studio/multi-instrumentalist inspirations (Le Millipede), new technologies that came and went, even a set of wildly convincing arrangements (done with Cico Beck’s crucial input) that ultimately became stepping stones for yet another round of DIY takes. “It was a long, recurring process, and the songs went through so many different versions,” he says, talking about phases of growth (“I added more and more equipment over time”) and pruning, “cleaning up my music a bit.” Tending towards instruments that open up space, and slowly falling in love with sampling, he certainly didn’t rush things once it was time for interior design decisions ;)

“During this whole process I got to learn so much about my own taste, how I prefer to listen to the pieces, which musical elements really matter to me… and what my own voice is. For example, that acoustic elements are most important to me: the banjo, piano, drums, my voice, glockenspiel, trumpet, melodica. Anything that opens up some space.”

Every journey begins with a search: “Missing” with its plucked chords opens like a sunrise over pastoral plains, gently leading the way towards the intricate, playful explosion that occurs once a certain amount of energy (“Sun”) hits dirt and other surfaces: things grow, clot and curdle into new shapes, like new buds; layers of sound move forward, drenched in Spring’s new light. Relying on samples to ask for precipitation (“Rain On Me”), robotic “Low” goes from barren to bass-heavy after its midway shift in pace, full of loops plucked from the shade.

Towards the album’s midpoint, things are suddenly reversed: “Cluster” has that backwards pull, you can’t tell what’s what, yet everything is perfectly locked in, as the pace increases once again. And before the title song shimmers with densified cheering (to eventually stand tall like early Lymbyc Systym), “Beside Me” swipes you off your feet with its booming bass drum. The beat returns once again (“Daydream”), full of searching voices underneath, and at “Dawnday,” we can finally catch a melancholy view of the house. Voices hum. It’s the score moment of the album. Everything makes sense now. A happy end of sorts?

“I want to take people on a journey. A personal journey, too, because when my parents split up and sold the house I grew up in, I felt a bit like the ground had fallen out from under my feet. But I have dedicated the album title and the accompanying piece to this house… so I can keep it in good memory.”

“I Can See Our House From Here” has been a long time coming. It’s been a long journey. Homeward-bound. Leading to a place that’s really Haberl’s – his sound. His frequencies.

Known as a long-time member of The Notwist and various other bands/projects (Alien Ensemble, AMEO, jersey, Ditty etc.), Berlin-based drummer/composer Andi Haberl has also worked with My Brightest Diamond, Till Brönner, Owen Pallet, and Kurt Rosenwinkel, to name a few. “I Can See Our House From Here” is his first solo offering.

Moonwalk X continues with ZK Bucket’s debut album mirroring his wide musical influences and production techniques from early detroit to UK wave and dub music. Techstar Liner is powered by a drumbrain and flying on ringing spring-reverbs. Stripped down rhythms, sequenced synthesizers and wide atmospheric pads with a spooky touch. Zoned-out machine music from the gritty side of town. Make sure to check the wavey vocal track “Natural Peeling”. 200 copies only.

After last year's RIP To My Idea Of You, Robert Dietz is back on Nous'klaer Audio with a complete solo EP of high energy cuts rounded out by the aptly named Sudden Peace. With flying colours, highlight Farbpaletten is as propulsive as it is large. A typical Dietz track that touches on trance, but not in the way you would expect. These are tracks to draw out to sun and fill up any floor. 3 Mirrors is Robert Dietz's most explosive outing yet. Comes with in a duo pantone sleeve by Rotterdam artist Tim Mastik.

In the dynamic landscape of contemporary jazz, Scottish pianist and composer Fergus McCreadie has carved a remarkable niche. Since 2021, his career has skyrocketed, marked by two acclaimed album releases that propelled him into the limelight – shortlisted for the Mercury Prize and clinching the Scottish Album of the Year (SAY) for "Forest Floor." His debut with Edition Records, "Cairn" (2021), set the stage for a journey deeply rooted in natural themes. McCreadie's latest venture, "Stream," continues this intriguing exploration, this time delving into the essence of water. Accompanied by his long-standing comrades, David Bowden and Stephen Henderson, the album flows with the fluidity of its namesake. It's a musical stream that flows through the rich landscapes of Scottish folklore and the sophisticated avenues of contemporary jazz, blending them seamlessly. The album's narrative is a testament to the trio's evolving musical identity, meticulously crafted to mirror a journey from darkness to light. McCreadie shares, "What I like most about this album is that it evolves from dark to light as the album goes on. It's a sort of cloudy skies to sunnier skies journey, quite different from previous albums where the track sequence was more arbitrary." Their sound, a nuanced tapestry woven with delicate touches and bold strokes, speaks of their confidence and exuberance in forging a distinct path. "Stream" is an exploration of shared passions and expressions, pushing the boundaries of their musical language and vocabulary to new depths. With "Stream," Fergus McCreadie, Bowden, and Henderson offer a refreshing antidote to the predictable. Their music is a celebration of individuality, a journey that resonates with the trio's unique voice. It's an invitation to listeners to immerse themselves in a soundscape that's both familiar in its Scottish roots and revolutionary in its jazz execution – a goal every artist aspires to achieve. "Stream" is a musical narrative that flows like water – sometimes calm, sometimes tempestuous, but always moving forward. For those seeking a fresh, engaging, and authentic musical journey, Fergus McCreadie's "Stream" is a listening adventure not to be missed.

Stream by Fergus Mccreadie, released 3 May 2024, includes the following tracks: "Driftwood", "Sun Pillars", "Stony Gate", "Coastline" and more.

Born of Austin's underground musical melting pot; Glassing's 2017 debut album `Light and Death' erupted out of the famously genre-resistant scene. 35 minutes of harrowing blast beats, searing angular feedback and frontman/bassist Dustin Coffman's sandpaper screams that set out to redefine the idea of heavy music to better reflect increasingly heavy times. Two subsequent full-length releases, 2019's `Spotted Horse' and 2021's `Twin Dream', plus especially the band's last release, the eponymous two-track EP, `Dire and Sulk' paved way for the new longplayer. More discordant, more distorted and somehow even angrier than before `From the Other Side of the Mirror', Glassing prove that uncertain times call for decisive measures. Recorded across two years of intense fits and starts, affectionately nicknamed `Hell Weeks' by the band, `From the Other Side of the Mirror' is a metaphysical foray into the fractured, warped impressions of ourselves that exist only in the minds of others. Working again with producer Andrew Hernandez, who the band liken to a fourth member at this point, Glassing pushed themselves harder, faster and more punishing than ever before. As their first full-length release with Osment and their first release on Pelagic Records, `From the Other Side of the Mirror' became an opportunity for a new beginning, free of any pre-existing limitations or thresholds. As Coffman tells us, "This allowed us to forgo a lot of the convention and structure we've relied on in the past, the substitution was for raw expression. Kindred to the emotions that birthed it, this record is spirited, painful and unmethodical." There's an indescribable, beautiful rawness to this album that comes from Glassing throwing everything on the table in plain sight, rather than polishing ideas for the benefit of others until they're unrecognisable, perfect and fake. FFO Portrayal of Guilt, Neurosis, Converge, Botch, Pelican, Unsane, This Will Destroy You, Chat Pile, Old Man Gloom, Départe

Born of Austin's underground musical melting pot; Glassing's 2017 debut album `Light and Death' erupted out of the famously genre-resistant scene. 35 minutes of harrowing blast beats, searing angular feedback and frontman/bassist Dustin Coffman's sandpaper screams that set out to redefine the idea of heavy music to better reflect increasingly heavy times. Two subsequent full-length releases, 2019's `Spotted Horse' and 2021's `Twin Dream', plus especially the band's last release, the eponymous two-track EP, `Dire and Sulk' paved way for the new longplayer. More discordant, more distorted and somehow even angrier than before `From the Other Side of the Mirror', Glassing prove that uncertain times call for decisive measures. Recorded across two years of intense fits and starts, affectionately nicknamed `Hell Weeks' by the band, `From the Other Side of the Mirror' is a metaphysical foray into the fractured, warped impressions of ourselves that exist only in the minds of others. Working again with producer Andrew Hernandez, who the band liken to a fourth member at this point, Glassing pushed themselves harder, faster and more punishing than ever before. As their first full-length release with Osment and their first release on Pelagic Records, `From the Other Side of the Mirror' became an opportunity for a new beginning, free of any pre-existing limitations or thresholds. As Coffman tells us, "This allowed us to forgo a lot of the convention and structure we've relied on in the past, the substitution was for raw expression. Kindred to the emotions that birthed it, this record is spirited, painful and unmethodical." There's an indescribable, beautiful rawness to this album that comes from Glassing throwing everything on the table in plain sight, rather than polishing ideas for the benefit of others until they're unrecognisable, perfect and fake. FFO Portrayal of Guilt, Neurosis, Converge, Botch, Pelican, Unsane, This Will Destroy You, Chat Pile, Old Man Gloom, Départe

Turnend Tapes first vinyl offering beyond the realms of the club emerges Peculiar Glow Vol.1. An EP of radiant atmospherics from multiple artists prescribing sonic esoterism.

Shell Company introduce the record with ‘Pearl’, an exhibition of their indelible sound, nurtured by the Manchester underground; inducing intoxication through twang of guitar and stunning spoken word whilst grimy, glitched-out soundscapes modulate and vaporise.

Sailingwing follows with ‘Splendid Isolation’. A kaleidoscopic dream sequence sounding like a distant relative to Talk Talk’s Spirit of Eden. One that is voltaic and woozy drifting with spectral timbre.

Bringing side A to a close with their track ‘I Might’ is Infant, another artist flourishing in Manchester’s fertile scene. A soft and hopeful slice of blissed out synth pop showcasing Infant’s mesmerising instrumentation, voice and lyricism.

Das Wettbüro’s ‘Abendtarif’ opens side B with an auditory bath of cool electronics intersecting the styles of different eras and geographies. Ultra kinetic and slick, the group make a visionary contribution to the rich lineage of Krautrock before it.

Zoe Couppe & sigh nova offer up a sublime composition of glistening electronics and granular field recordings that mirror the spoken musings of aquatic motion amongst other abstractions. With mythic air, ‘Memoria Fluida’ guides this collection of music to its conclusion.

Peculiar Glow’s first volume is a touchstone for endeavours to follow under this project and we are delighted to share the result of what has been a lengthy but exceptionally rewarding process.

Immerse yourself into the psychedelic electronic pop of Talee, a rising Dutch artist weaving together the tapestry of contemporary indie dance with threads of early 90s British contaminated indie rock.

A multi-instrumentalist, previously championed by Disco Halal, Talee is set to unleash his debut EP “Waiting for Tomorrow” on the esteemed Californian label Underground Pacific, promising an unforgettable sonic journey.

Talee’s music transcends the boundaries of genre, seamlessly blending the warm rhythms and catchy melodies of Watherall’s Primal Scream and the lysergic groove of Happy Mondays with contemporary electronic textures.

This debut EP serves as a powerful statement of Talee’s artistic vision, showcasing his unique neo-romantic wave songwriting and great capturing riffs. The release also features an exciting collaboration with the acclaimed Irish Sullivan brothers SX2, who lend their signature touch to a captivating remix of “How High?” recalling the early irreverent and raving Underworld energy. Joining them is none other than Cantor, the musician and producer behind Underground Pacific himself, ensuring a Burning Man sunrise-inspired remix of “Be Here Now”.

The EP’s visual identity mirrors Talee’s artistic creativity with artwork conceptualized by the artist himself, complementing the music and offering a glimpse into Talee’s vibrant inner world.

The folks at Castle Face dig a good trance. Hypnosis, mesmerization, and brain trickery are some of their favorite results of deep listening and it is a suggestive, ritualistic and dreamlike vibe that Bronze ooze like pheromones all over their excellent new record. Absolute Compliance is a truly hypnogogic group of tunes from Bronze on their best and weirdest behavior and it hits all Castle Face’s favorite things about them immediately and repeatedly: insistently strange synth voicings emanating from Miles Friction’s mad scientist’s lab worth of equipment, controlled by a homemade-looking oversized knob; Brian Hock’s throbbing, woolly, hall-of-mirror grooves; and above it all Rob Spector’s thousand yard croon, the vaguely familiar touchstone amongst these Lynchian, mutated surroundings—these are songs of dreams and nightmares, hidden rituals observed, futuristic coliseum entertainments displaced in time, sci-fi jams of an uncertain future. Bronze are one-of-a kind great and if unfamiliar, go find their other records (including their great live record for Castle Face) and get caught up. They are real-deal weirdo kings of San Francisco and their spell is not easily dissipated once cast.

Señor Sapo is a character created based on the Mesoamerican deity Quetzalcoatl:

while capturing Sr. Sapo atop The Pyramid of the Sun at Teotihuacan
in The Valley of Mexico; dawn…

Augie Robles (the photographer) spotted an elementary school class of around 25 children with two teachers suddenly appear scaling the momentous stair case behind our subject!

They shouted;

“Sr. Sapo! Sr. Sapo!”
the name has stuck! they wanted to have their pictures taken with Sr. Sapo? however; they did not want to touch him as they thought his skin might be “viscoso” or “slimy”?

“Q’uq’umatz” (as it is known amongst the K’iche’ Maya) goes back to the Olmec culture and represents the duality of flight to reach the skies; whereas the reptilian (in most cases a snake) represents the ability to mingle amongst other creatures of the Earth;
Among the Aztecs he was related to the gods of wind; of the dawn; of merchants and arts; crafts; knowledge and the planet Venus: as well as their patron god of the priesthood…

THE FUTURE S0UND 0f YESTERDAY is as well a construct of the imagination; a fictitious “orchestra” with many imaginary characters; KENT CHESTERFiElD; LEE NAilZ; PHATTITUDE; EPiPHANY TALEUR; ThE ClARKETTES (they actually exist in the “real” world)…

The titles:
“0de to A Tree”;
is the culmination of a night out in Berlin; “…met a young man in a bar close to the “atelier”; he said he wanted to play something on a piano; we go to the place and he plays this melody over a rhythm though not in rhythm?
…basically edited none of it; then used a series of tone generators and filters to change the sound into all the soundscapes you hear in the final piece; the title was simply a tribute to the trees…” Eric D. Clark

“is it good for Ya’?”;
is a slow pumping House song with a message in the form of a question; “is it good for you?” as in “I could do it; however; should I? you know; look in a mirror and ask the question”…
the Music came about as an experiment at NADEL EiNS Studio in Berlin; Heavy bass at around 116bpm plus Erix’s cheeky vocal stylings weaving in & out of frame (as well key) deliver a unique aural experience!

the final track:
“Elsewhere playback”
is literally the playback of a track Eric did under the guise of KENT CHESTERFIELD for a party series he did in Sacramento CA with AJ Sachs…
it’s really just a tool; the good thing is you can drop -8 (or -16 assuming your tables are tuned) to bring it to a tempo one could easily rap over OR push it up to +8 and have a dry Tech number? Either way it BANGS! Dub Plates & Mastering did a swell job!!

overall a must for any Dance Music aficionado’s collection out on October 10th on SHADDOCK RECORDS !

Filled with aural magic and enchanting musical spells, Sorcerer is true to its name. The third of five albums devised by Miles Davis' legendary second quintet – and the second record in a still-unprecedented string of eight consecutive releases within a four-year period that forever changed the face of jazz – the 1967 magnum opus mesmerizes with instrumental colours, subdued musings, and subtle details.

This is a reference-standard reissue. You'll hear poetic lyricism pouring out of Wayne Shorter's horn, the breadth and definition of the notes spreading across an enormous soundstage. Never before have drummer Tony Williams' rim shots ricocheted with such purpose or his light percussive work mirrored that of a feather touching skin. Similarly, Herbie Hancock's piano runs now occupy their own space, where their relationship to the central rhythms and front line becomes clearer.

Prizing inflection and nuance more so than heady solos or uptempo flights, Sorcerer mesmerizes with cerebral properties and cascades of emotional interplay. Such beauty emerges in the mellow ballad "Pee Wee," an indelible statement of restrained authority and sophisticated expression. The swirling title track unfolds as jazz shadowplay, Hancock, Shorter, and Williams mirroring one another's moves with guile and purpose. The opening "Prince of Darkness" showcases the ensemble's reach and communication, every musician going in seemingly different directions yet ending up on the same page

A lasting example of Davis' visionary insight, Sorcerer is comprised entirely of pieces written by his band mates. Indeed, save for the closing "Nothing Like You" – a brief tribute to Davis' eventual wife, who also graces the cover, recorded in 1962 and adorned with vocals from Bob Dorough, the album represents a further maturation and refinement of a quintet that stands as one of the finest in jazz history.

Following his impressive debut EP ‘Mirror In Man’, which touched on cosmic folk jams and Balearic pop, the Belgium singer-producer Mozes Mosuse aka Movulango has announced his second project ‘The Irony’, a 5 track EP out 24th November via Soulwax’s DEEWEE label.

Movulango’s musical paintings are a visual and intuitive reflection of what it feels like to be him. His weekly radio show, Radio Atlantis on StuBru, Belgium, is a clever alias he uses to explore different worlds, deconstruct existing music and blend it with his own musical experiments.

His latest project ‘The Irony’ is further insight into Movulango's devine mind, building deeply personal stories on feeling and emotion that bundle into soaring melodies and lyrics. You can try your best to understand what it all means or you can sit back and let them bewitch your mind and soul.

KOU is the new project by Apolline Schöser (half of Nina Harker) & Thomas Coquelet.

Apolline & Thomas have been performing since 2022 under the KOU guise with 24 electronic harmoniums. Producing dense layers of tones & overtones. On their debut album KOU steers in another direction. The harmonium appears occasionally, but more prominent are delicate guitar pluckings, distant vocal effects, synths, flutes, piano strokes, a touch of musical magic and Apolline’s jazz not jazz vocals.

As soon as the needle drops it’s clear we are jump-cutting straight to the other side of the mirror. Cats purr, a woman sings as if asleep, drum machines stutter and warp and Alvin Lucier is not 'sitting in a room that is not different to the one you are not in now’. If you’re already confused, join the club. But, it’s the good kind of confused, a bewildering experience akin to the first time hearing the Faust Tapes or watching Inland Empire. Wait though, as pigeons coo and the tape machine clunk-clicks a gorgeous weirdo version of Roger's and Hart’s Blue Moon emerges to let you know this isn’t just dada splurge, there’s a genius pop sensibility at work here too. Side two takes us further into the murk with mournful detuned brass, stoned Joan La Barbara-esque vocalese and a droning Farfisa hymn, before ending with another too-tempting snatch of DIY pop. Some of the references are recognisable. All kinds of 70s/80s European art prog - think early Battiato, Pierot Lunaire’s Gudrun, Lucia Bosè and Gregorio Paniagua's Io Pomodoro etc etc. There’s a strong whiff of 90s us goof-off surrealism too- Bongwater, Siltbreeze, Royal Trux’s Twin infinitives, the damaged folkier side of Alastair Galbraith, Half-Japanese, early Beck even all feel relevant.

Like an oddball group of friends you might meet by chance and end up weirding-out with for days, the minds behind this deliciously odd music allow you to stay for a while in their strange subcultural world. You might not want to live here forever but a short trip, while it lasts, rewires your brain for the better.

LP SHIPPING ONLY / CD DELAYED “This is definitely the most honest and mature record Deathchant has ever made.” That’s Deathchant vocalist and guitarist T.J. Lemieux talking about the band’s third and latest album, Thrones. Think of it as not just the follow-up to 2021’s Waste, but the other side of the coin. “While Waste and our self-titled album touched on similar themes, they were sort of from a problem standpoint,” he explains. “Thrones is full of reflection, self-realization, and solutions for moving forward and conquering those problems.” Which isn’t to say that Deathchant have gone soft. Far from it, dude. In fact, Thrones just might be their heaviest record thus far. The band’s seamless swirl of classic rock guitar harmonies, syrupy sludge, blues boogie and psych bombast has reached a thrilling new apex as Lemieux spins high-powered tales of reckoning from beyond the wall of sanity. Thematically, Lemieux and his bandmates—bassist George Camacho, guitarist Doug Stuckey and drummer Joe Herzog—peel back the veneer of self-delusion to expose the fork in the road. “Thrones is meant to represent things that rule you, things you worship, things you rely on or think you need,” Lemieux says. “Sometimes those things make you feel in control, safe, on top of the world like you're in power—which over time often proves untrue.” Witness lead single “Mirror”: Kicking off with gleaming Lizzy-isms, the song rumbles into a thick groove overlaid with lysergic fireworks that conjure the shaggy European movers of decades past. “‘Mirror’ is the key to the whole Thrones theme,” Lemieux explains. “It’s about looking inward to realize what's ruling you, what's consuming you, and how delusional you've been about those things. Your sense of self is so damn important, and fully facing your truths is not an easy thing to do. It’s admitting that you’ve intentionally dulled and quieted your mind to distract, avoid and run from yourself, from memory, from loss and truth. At some point, you have to face that shit.” The languid and dreamy “Mother Mary” is also crucial to Thrones’ trajectory. “If the album was a book, ‘Mirror’ would be the first chapter and ‘Mother Mary’ would be the last chapter, though they’re not the first and last track for sonic reasons,” Lemieux explains. “‘Mirror’ is saying, ‘I’m looking inward because some things need to change,’ while ‘Mother Mary’ is saying, ‘Okay, things are fucked and have gone way too far but now we have this understanding—and acknowledging things is key to overcoming.’” Thrones was recorded live in a cabin in the remote mountain community of Frazier Park, CA, with trusty engineer Steve Schroeder (a.k.a. Schroeds). “We moved in for a week, rehearsed a bit and went for it,” Lemieux says. “Each tune got three or so takes, but we nailed ‘Mother Mary’ and ‘Canyon’ right away.” Overdubs were done at the cabin, Schroeder’s Studio 3, and Lemieux’s place. The album was produced by Lemieux and Schroeder. “Overall, it’s a pretty dark record,” Lemieux says. “It's serious and leans into heavy themes, sometimes using metaphor and imagery to soften those blows, but sometimes it hits direct. It’s positive, though—and cathartic. Forever riding on the line of total insanity and flirting with mental degradation. It’s our most realized and ambitious record to date.”

The band is John Dwyer (synths, vocals), Heather Lockie (viola), Thomas Dolas (synths), Andres Renteria (hand percussion), Brad Caulkins (tenor saxophone), Kyp Malone (synths) and Archie Carey (bassoon). The singers are YoshimiO (Boredoms, OOIOO), Albert Wolski (EXEK), Gracie Jackson (GracieHorse), Ciriza (Artist Extraordinaire), Kyp Malone (Bent Arcana, TV On The Radio, Rain Machine etc.), Brigid Dawson (Thee Oh Sees, The Mothers Network), AZITA (Scissor Girls, Bride of NONO, AZITA). For fans of Steve Roach, Eno, Syrinx, Howard Shore, Current 93, Terry Riley, Tangerine Dream and a proper sage scrub. “An experiment in symphonic improvisation paired with synthesizerscapes. Strings, reeds, synths and hand percussion all blend sweetly into an odd landscape indeed. The final touch was to bring aboard some singers I have loved over the years. I’m so pleased they were all willing to participate and I’m very tickled by the plane we navigate. Once YoshimiO agreed to be on board I knew we were going to be OK. Recorded and mixed at my home studio (Stu-Stu-Studio in Los Angeles) and remotely, this one was a slow burn to see the light of day. And here it is in its final crystal form. Celebrating the spaces between ritual, habit and ceremony. And all the parallels between. The line is blurred. This is occult adjacent strain of sound. At home in daily ritual, contemplation and meditation.” - John Dwyer

2023 repress as double heavy weight black vinyl , with original artwork & gatefold sleeve. Originally released in 2006,even though 5:55 isn't technically Charlotte Gainsbourg's first solo album (that would be Charlotte for Ever, which was released in 1986 when she was 15), it is her first solo album as an adult and, with the help of a dream team of collaborators, it's a fittingly sophisticated set that touches on her father Serge's brilliantly louche, literate pop without being overshadowed by it. Air's Jean-Benoit Dunckel and Nicolas Godin (who paid tribute to Serge Gainsbourg particularly well on 10,000 Hz Legend's 'Wonder Milky Bitch') wrote 5:55's delicate music, while Jarvis Cocker and the Divine Comedy's Neil Hannon penned its lyrics. This mingling of French and English influences is mirrored in Charlotte Gainsbourg's subtly expressive voice and accent, which provides the perfect complement to the album's lush sounds and vivid imagery.

It's a pertinent start-point because, in many ways, God Is Luck exists firmly within that realm, many of the songs pulled directly from improvisation before being twisted into the mysterious shapes we find here on the finished record.

Recorded between the summer of 2020 and the summer of 2022, God Is Luck is an exercise in artistic freedom. The songs came quickly and easily by design, the whole point of the record and the approach to simply let go.

The third Bad History Month LP - following the Pitchfork-championed Old Blues (2020) - where aspects of the new album mirror the shape of Sprecher's previous work, its creation was an altogether different experience for the Philadelphia-viaBoston songwriter. He describes it as a collaboration with 'luck', the freeform nature of the recording resulting in a process that felt "fun and easy and fearless in a way that recording had never been."

"God is Luck means you can control reality by choosing your perspective to always see the luck, which makes you the god of your own reality," Sean Sprecher says of his latest record. With that notion at its core, Bad History Month's latest adventure finds twisted new ways to tell age-old tales. Even in its most fearless compositions, buried within dense fog, it strives for goodness; freedom from fear, love for friends, surrounding yourself with those who inspire.

Sublime ethereal minimalism from Hiroyuki Onogawa on this retrospective compilation album for
Mana, the first dedicated release and remaster of his soundtrack compositions.

The album August in the Water: Music for Film 1995-2005 plots a decade of Onogawa’s compositions for films by the renowned filmmaker Gakuryū Ishii (formally known as Sogo Ishii). Ishii’s leftfield and trailblazing cinema has proven highly influential - Crazy Thunder Road (1980) is frequently cited as the starting pistol for the Japanese cyberpunk genre - and unfathomably difficult to source outside of Japan. This, coupled with the mysterious and artistic nature of the films, has seen him build a cult-like following. Most of his oeuvre remains undistributed outside Japan, though Third Window Films has recently taken great strides toward making some titles available internationally.

This retrospective publication, sequenced into an album by Onogawa himself, spans a fertile period of collaboration with Ishii, through soundtracks for three remarkable films: August in the Water (1995), Labyrinth of Dreams (1997), and Mirrored Mind (2005). Each feels texturally and sensually linked with the spiritual, ambient, dreamlike quality that lingers in Onogawa’s music.

The sound Onogawa conjures for these films is elegant and patient, often minimal or essential in form, but saturated in a poetic emotion and atmosphere that feels strange and otherworldly, touched by the metaphysical in subtle ways. Boundaries are crossed between New Age and science fiction, locating a blissfulness, melancholy and paranoia within the same spectrum, and moving toward an enchanting sense of mood and colour.

It’s notable that the compositions on this album straddle the millennium, and the mix of divine and uncertain themes in the music carry that currency. New listeners might hear links to Mark Snow’s compositional work for the X-Files and Millennium, or other celebrated future-facing and future-fearing Japanese anime or cyberpunk.

Onogawa’s music adds great depth and tenor to the sensory experience of the films themselves, but it stands just as strongly as a listening experience on its own terms, a virtuosic example of ambient that changes in hue when turned in the light. Remarkably, and in similar circumstances to Ishii, Onogawa’s work has never been widely available outside of (always highly enthusiastic) underground fan posts, usually sourced from extremely limited and private CDs limited to Japan. This retrospective seeks to remedy that, and hopes to achieve recognition for Onogawa as one of the great composers of the last three decades.

Onogawa continues to work in film, both in the creation of soundtracks, and now as a producer and director. He composed the music for Koji Fukada’s Harmonium (2016), which won the Jury Prize in the Un Certain Regard section at the Cannes Film Festival, as well as for Fukada’s A Girl Missing (2019). As a director, he received the Grand Prize for Best Short Film in the Noves Visions category at the Sitges Festival in 2022 for Flashback Before Death (Guu), co-directed with Rii Ishihara.'

Trout Mask Replica is a touchstone in the history of recorded music. The mix of dada absurdist blues and previously unexplored experimental avenues has long been praised as one of the greatest albums of all time. As so eloquently put by John Peel, "If there has been anything in the history of popular music which could be described as a work of art in a way that people who are involved in other areas of art would understand, then Trout Mask Replica is probably that work.” In full partnership with the Zappa Family Trust and to celebrate the relaunch of the seminal Bizarre label imprint, Third Man Records is proud to announce Captain Beefheart and the Magic Band's Trout Mask Replica. Out of print on vinyl for nearly ten years, this remaster was helmed by industry legend Bob Ludwig and cut by the estimable Chris Bellman at Bernie Grundman Mastering. Utilizing crystalline-quality safety masters kept in the Zappa family vault for decades by the trustworthy Joe Travers, the audio here is positively glorious. Every last skronk breathes full life into the room. Every twisted guitar figure uncurls onto paths previously unpaved. Every last bark and howl shines resolute through the vast emptiness of your mind. Previous countless Trout Mask Replica repressings used scans of scans of scans of the cover image, but the original Cal Schenkel cover photo has been tracked down and reproduced here at its clearest — its resolution from the original release in 1969. If you’ve only ever seen a jpg online or fuzzy, smeared-looking CD issues from the 90’s, be prepared to be wowed by the fully engaging spectrum this iconic image casts. This 2xLP is pressed on heavyweight 180-gram black vinyl for that full-on frenetic feeling.