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Marconi Union, one of the most influential names in contemporary ambient and electronic music, announce their twelfth studio album, The Fear of Never Landing, set for release 6th June via Just Music. The news is paired with the release of first single Eight Miles High Alone, out 20th March on all major streaming platforms.

Known for their ability to craft cinematic, immersive soundscapes that blur the lines between ambient, electronic, and experimental music, the Manchester-based duo once again push the boundaries of sonic exploration. The Fear of Never Landing takes us on a dynamic journey that’s atmospheric, diaphanous and never short of mesmerising. While the new record is certainly infused with a sense of hope, there’s more than a soupçon of anxiety too, as the title suggests.

A 55-minute odyssey presented as one seamless piece divided into nine movements, they transcribe the nexus of modern living into a mostly wordless odyssey. The album encapsulates Marconi Union’s ability to translate the complexities of the human experience into sound, all while maintaining a stunning sense of cohesion.

While the music feels effortless, the creative process was anything but. During the two years it took to complete the album, members Jamie Crossley and Duncan Meadows faced creative struggles that even led them to briefly question the band’s future. A pivotal moment came when they performed a live soundtrack to the 1975 skateboarding film Downhill Motion, rekindling their connection to atmospheric composition. By testing new material live and returning to their roots, Marconi Union redefined their creative process, leading to some of their most emotionally impactful work to date.

“We’ve always made atmospheric music but we had started to lose that aspect. Other than some rough ideas, we had no sense of what we were doing anymore, a kind of musical wilderness. Eventually a couple of things fell into place, and it was like, ‘Ah, okay.”
With a foundation to build upon, they went back to basics and decided to take their time going forwards. “We tried out a few new tracks live which gave us the opportunity to see what worked and what didn’t. We've never given ourselves that luxury before.”

The first track to be shared, Eight Miles High Alone, is a mesmerizing sequencer-driven track that builds an immersive, atmospheric soundscape. Its hypnotic pulses and intricate layers evoke a sense of solitude and weightlessness, perfectly capturing the album’s blend of tension and introspection. “Eight Miles High Alone was the first piece that we managed to complete and helped to inform our approach to the rest of the album.”

Formed in Manchester in 2003, their debut album, Under Wires and Searchlights (2003), introduced their signature sound, but it was their 2011 release of Weightless that brought international acclaim. Developed in collaboration with a sound therapist, Weightless was scientifically recognised as “the world’s most relaxing song”, praised for its ability to reduce anxiety and heart rates. With over 900 million streams and widespread coverage across media, the track remains a cultural phenomenon.

Over the years, Marconi Union has continued to evolve, producing critically acclaimed albums such as Signals (2021), Ghost Stations (2016), and Tokyo+ (2017). Their work has been hailed for its emotional resonance and sonic depth, with The Quietus noting their ability to find “beauty in the bleakest places” and The Sunday Times describing them as “amongst today’s most talented musicians.”

Beyond their studio albums, Marconi Union has collaborated with visual artists, provided soundtracks for installations, and remixed notable acts like Max Richter and Vök. Their invitation by Brian Eno to perform at Norway’s Punkt Festival further cemented their reputation as innovators in the ambient music sphere.

With The Fear of Never Landing, Marconi Union once again showcases their unmatched ability to create immersive soundscapes that resonate deeply. The album reaffirms their position as masters of atmosphere and emotional storytelling, making it an essential addition to their storied catalog.

‘You are behind the damn wheel every day and you don’t even know it’ , weightily remarks Powerplant’s band leader Theo Zhykharyev on the reading of his latest single. London-based project signals the return to signature formula of marching drum machines and wailing synthesisers, matured by life experiencing of prolonged touring. ’Car is life, brother. Sometimes you drive it, other times - the car drives you. And, statistically, we’ll all see the airbags go off sooner than later as consequence of choices made by us or onto us, consciously or not.’
Crashing Cars breaks out the gates to the heavy low end driven dance floor. ‘I was listening to a lot of Bladee when I wrote it and needed a similar thick kick to get you moving’, says Theo. Its an emotionally loaded cannon of a track that will keep you in its grip until it has run its course and told its story. Yearning from connection unfulfilled, rings out through the heartbroken and weeping synth and choir lines. The ever-morphing and dynamic bass works in tandem with razor sharp guitars. The instrumentation, through combined ‘no looking back’ forward charge and immediacy, conjure a manic and emotional forward momentum, which rings out in the song’s lyrics. The vocal performance ranges from the trademark Powerplant goblin squeaks, to more mature, tour-hardened singing. On a sonic aesthetic level, Crashing Cars vibrates in a familiar fashion to Powerplant’s biggest hit Dungen. However, this time far less playful and harder hitting. Described as the fallout of “avoiding, chasing and running away”, lyrically it paints a dead end in human relationships concluding it car-crash heading for the scrapyard. The song concludes with a loaded four line spoken word poetry segment, that hangs over the fleeting outro.
The B side of the single, Never Smile, rolls the speed back, but throws in jangly guitar hooks and bouncy bass lines. Zhykharyev’s vocals sit in a lower register, hence are more stoic and melancholic. If this track had to be a day of the week, it would be a calm, introspective Sunday. With lyrics about looking into evil omens, the sky and reading people as ‘not something different’, it paints an ambiguous, but heavy conclusion about the world and its people. It tells a story about circumstantially settling into an identity and playing the assigned part for the convenience of the external world. It’s easier to fit than to stand apart. It's a perfect balance of mid-tempo radio-rock that builds and changes, before exploding into a shaggy guitar solo, only to go into an unexpected ethereal outro and this 7”s crescendo.
‘Both of these songs are kinda old now, sitting at around 4 years old. And although I haven’t changed the lyrics since then, I somehow find new meaning in them as time goes on. Being Ukrainian and going into the fourth year of the full scale Russian invasion back home, the chorus “my death to you - a better price to pay” makes a lot of sense looking at how the world powers are trying to spin the devastation of my people for a quick profit and an easier life for themselves. This single coming out now at this very point in my life feels both profound and very ironic. Life never ends’, summarises Zhykharyev.

This is not the end of a dark alleyway in some US city, this is not the bottom of a platform heel in England, this is not the back corner of some dusty drawer at a record fair in Holland. These are not the places you’ll find rock and roll. This is Quebec: A different sensory perception of rock and roll. A heightened awareness of the highest highs and the lowest lows. This is Belgium with snowmobiles, Catholic Texas, Ugly France. All the crumbling highways, the coldest beers, and the loudest joints. Guitars do different things in Quebec. PUFFER shimmy across the invisible barricade between Montreal and the rest of the world not just as another crop of punks but as the great descendants and inheritors of modern greats like INEPSY’s “Rock and Roll Babylon” and ANNIHILATION TIME's “II.” Loud, brash, unrelenting. You’ll go deaf before you get bored of it.
Self produced, self recorded, and mixed by the band, this is the vanguard of punk that has lived long beyond it’s moments of origin. This pure blast of 1979 by way of the hellish weimar end-times of 2025 never made the necessity of punk rock feel so real.
FFO SLAUGHTER AND THE DOGS, the 222s, THE DISCORDS, MOTORHEAD, INEPSY, AA Restaurant, Montreal pool room, Katacombes, and the eternal flame of punk in La Belle Provence.

Ali Farka Touré trekked the world, bringing his beloved Malian music to the masses. Dubbed “the African John Lee Hooker,” one could hear strong connections between the two; both employed a bluesy style of play with gritty textures that elicit calm and fury in equal measure. While the influence of Black blues music prevailed, Touré created a West African blend of 'desert blues' that garnered Grammy awards and widespread reverence. Though he transcended in 2006, Ali’s musical legacy lives on through his son, Vieux aka “the Hendrix of the Sahara,” an accomplished guitarist and champion of Malian music in his own right. On Ali, his collaborative album with Khruangbin, Vieux pays homage to his father by recreating some of his most resonant work, putting new twists on it while maintaining the original’s integrity. The result is a rightful ode to a legend. Ali isn’t just a greatest hits compilation. It’s a lullaby, a remembrance of Ali's life through known highlights and B-sides from his catalog. It is a testament to what happens when creativity is approached through open arms and open hearts. “To me, music is magic, it is spontaneous, it is the energy between people,” Vieux says. “I think Khruangbin understands this very well.” The genesis of the album dates back to 2019, when Khruangbin, coming off their breakthrough album Con Todo el Mundo, was beginning to play to bigger crowds. The record was finished in 2021, as a global pandemic shuttered businesses and forced us to take stock of what Earth was becoming. Indirectly, Ali captures this as a moment of peace within a raging storm, a conversation between past and present without allegiance to suffering. Now, given Khruangbin’s reach as a unit with legions of fans (including the likes of Jay-Z and Paul McCartney), they’re poised to bring Malian music to broader groups of listeners. Ali is a masterful work in which the love surrounding it is just as vital as the music itself, driving it to unforeseen places; Vieux and Khruangbin are spreading the good word to a completely new generation. “I hope it takes them somewhere new, or puts them in a place they haven't felt or heard,” Lee says. “It is about the love of new friendship and making something beautiful together,” Vieux continues. “It is about pouring your love into something old to make it new again. In the end and in a word it is love, that's all.”

Born in Montreal, double platinum- selling artist Sam Roberts launched a career of radio hits with The Inhuman Condition, which included "Brother Down" and the #1 single "Don't Walk Away Eileen". His eight subsequent albums have garnered multiple awards and include life-moment defining favourites "Hard Road", "Where Have All the Good People Gone?", "Them Kids", "We're All In This Together", and "All Of Us".

The band's legendary live show has seen them performing around the world including Australia, Japan, Europe, and North America. Their infectious live energy has brought them to festivals such as Bonnaroo, Austin City Limits, Lollapalooza and Bumbershoot, and on stages alongside giants like the Rolling Stones and AC/DC.

Frequencies is a carefully curated collection of songs that, while familiar to their North American audience, will be receiving a full-fledged release in the UK for the first time. As a special addition, the album will include a newly recorded version of 'Brother Down', the band's breakthrough single from their debut album We Were Born In A Flame. This fresh take captures the energy and evolution of the song as it has been performed night after night over the decades. The album also features a rework of 'All Of Us' by fellow Montrealer Liam O'Neil (The Stills, Kings of Leon).

Available 13 June 2025 on double translucent orange vinyl, Trios captures the magic of Buddy Rich's legendary three- man jam sessions-- performances that have never been officially released until now. Recorded live during international concerts in 1976 and 1977, Trios showcases Rich alongside extraordinary talents: bassists Jon Burr and Tom Warrington, and young piano prodigy Barry Kiener. These trio interludes--recorded by Rich's alto saxophonist Alan Gauvin--feature Rich playing with brushes in an intimate setting, spotlighting his dynamic range and nuance. "These trio sets were often played to give the brass section a break," says Gauvin. "But what Buddy did with those moments was extraordinary. It was a masterclass in restraint, creativity, and musical interplay." Among the album's ten tracks are beautifully reimagined standards such as "Just Friends," "Stella by Starlight," and "My Romance." Each performance highlights Rich's desire to step back and allow the piano and bass to shine--something unheard of for a drummer of his stature. The release also serves as a tribute to Barry Kiener, the immensely gifted pianist who tragically passed away at 30. "Barry had been like a son to him," remembers Buddy's daughter Cathy Rich, who serves as an Executive Producer. "This album is a rare glimpse into Barry's brilliance and the deep musical bond he shared with my father." Trios was recorded and produced by Alan Gauvin, mastered by Tom Swift, with cover art by Michael Patterson, the award-winning visual artist and USC professor known for his work on a-ha's iconic "Take on Me" video.

Having spent the last half decade building up a name as a jazz and soul singer of rare distinction, Ada Morghe now presents her fourth album, 'Pure Good Vibes', which features the British reggae icon Maxi Priest A trip to Jamaica in January 2024 set 'Pure Good Vibes' in motion. Ada headed to th island after hearing that her bassist and producer Livingstone Brown, was flying the to work with Maxi Priest. It was an idea that was underlined by her desire to explo the music, culture and Jamaican heritage that had also shaped the lives of her oth band members Luke Smith (keyboard) and Josh McNasty (drums). The resulting album is a beautiful, intimate reflection on adult themes, such a keeping the passion alive, making the most of life's sweet moments and capturing th closeness of two people in love, which is underpinned by a sound that, though n beholden to Jamaica's musical traditions, certainly shares a spirit with them. The are other influences - such as Michael Kiwanuka's soulful fervour, the vibrancy of '60 R&B, and a love of Sade's 'Diamond Life'. Before stepping whole- heartedly into music, Ada Morghe was already a renowne actress and an award-winning author in her homeland of Germany. Having written an starred in the play-turned-film 'Frau Mutter Tier' and been asked to write songs for i soundtrack, she found herself working with former Prince sound engineer Han Martin Buff. That led her to Abbey Road studios in London, her debut album 'Picture and 2020's 'Box', an expression of her refusal to be tied down to any one genre o profession. From there came 2023's 'Lost', a free-flowing vocal jazz suite based on th four elements. 'Pure Good Vibes', however, pulls her toward what sounds like her most natural albu yet: sophisticated jazz and soul that deals with both the romance and reality o matters of the heart.

'Clover' is the debut LP from Sleeper's Bell, the project of vocalist/lyricist/librarian-by-day Blaine Teppema & guitarist Evan Green. Recorded with Jack Henry (Friko, Horsegirl), 'Clover' is a product of Chicago's reliable DIY scene, offering a more confessional & folk-influenced lens. Instrumentation spans from fiddle to saxophone, combining an expansive sound with laser-focused lyrics. Praised by New York Times ("Sleeper's Bell captures the lingering wounds, self-doubt and distrust") , Stereogum, ('Clover' is shaping up to be the perfect heartbreak album"), Chicago Reader ("tender"), NPR Music and more, ‘Clover’ spit-shines dive bar wisdom into polished folk-rock. These songs date back as far as 10 years, having changed form countless times throughout the year. As the duo continued steeping themselves in the city’s storied independent scene, their newfound momentum expanded initial conceptions of what Sleeper’s Bell could be. Sleeper's Bell "shine in layers of musical finery" (For The Rabbits) and have cultivated a strong fanbase in their hometown of Chicago, supporting the likes of beloved twangers Merce Lemon, Fust, @, and more.

Shell Company & Older Brother tap into the Mancunian continuum to deliver heavy sounds for heavy times on 'Shards', their debut release on Numbers.

Born from voice notes sent between Manchester, London and Lisbon, the release took shape remotely before being recorded inside Manchester’s The White Hotel, then refined in the sonic labs of Numbers and La Chunky in Glasgow.

Set across one night, 'Shards' is the fragments of the never ending process of breakdown and placing pieces back together. Along four tracks, the voices of Shell Company (Rosabella Allen) and Older Brother begin far apart, then argue, reflect and collide, trying to find the ground they stand on, with the music laid by brothers Rob and Chris Banks. The two voices work both together and against each other, rendering images that could only exist in limbo: running taps, cans on the floor, and crumbling walls.

Shell Company & Older Brother say of the release —

“Shards is a scream that sings softly. A record that shifts between confusion and sense, hopelessness and hope. Despite moments of intense and perfect connection, the shards rarely fit. Shards is a record not about giving up, but giving in. A recording of the victory that comes from surrendering to float, all because 'it will all make sense one day'. Shards is about love that begins and ends with broken pieces."

José James just can’t leave the ’70s alone. Or maybe it’s the other way around. The singer, songwriter, bandleader, and producer was born in 1978, after all, but over his past 17 years of fundamentally forward-looking, blessedly mercurial music, he keeps getting pulled back in. His 2013 Blue Note breakthrough No Beginning No End revisited the hooky, funky, jazz-streaked songcraft of the time through a modern crate-digger’s ears. On 2020’s No Beginning No End 2 — James’ debut on his own Rainbow Blonde Records — he went back through the portal with a small army of fellow celebrated eclecticists. Just last year, there was the album 1978, a richly layered love letter to said year that felt deep, luxe, and cool. It’s as if — vested with the restless fluidity of jazz, the tuned-in sensitivity of soul, and the revisionist grit of hip-hop — he is trying to play his way into the exact moment when, culturally speaking, everything was about to change.

“I'm still so fascinated by the tension in that era of all these seemingly clashing things happening at once,” says James. “The loft scene, the jazz scene, Elton and Billy, Bob Marley, the Isleys, Funkadelic, disco being this behemoth in a way I don't think we even understand today… And then there’s where everybody went from there — into hip-hop, into punk rock, exploding jazz. It's like a summation of the ’70s, and it's about to transform. It's the peak of the rollercoaster.”

Literally breaking into history is impossible, of course, but James’ new LP, 1978: Revenge of the Dragon, does feel like breaking through or bursting out. In loving contrast to its predecessor, the fresh set plays hot, like a Friday night out at the Mudd Club in its prime. Though he’s dreamt up albums with collaborator counts approaching the dozens, James gathered a tight crew for this one. Himself and Taali on vocals. BIGYUKI on keys and analog synth. Jharis Yokley on drums. Bass split between David Ginyard (Blood Orange, Terence Blanchard) and Kyle Miles (Michelle Ndgeocello, Nick Hakim). And an all-star brass lineup: Takuya Kuroda on trumpet, young lion Ebban Dorsey on alto sax, and genre-spanning ronin Ben Wendel on tenor sax. They set up in Dreamland Studios near Woodstock, a restored 19th century church, and recorded live to tape, two tracks, drums pushed to the max — “a small homage to the rise of punk,” says James.

In that place out of time, the band laid down a handful of choice covers and some wild originals, like the single “They Sleep, We Grind (for Badu),” a decades-collapsing cut powered by an ugly groove. Steeped in dub, funk, and sampledelia, James chants an artists’ mantra (“They sleep, we grind / Man, f--- your nine to five”), makes lyrical callouts to Marley and Nas, and channels everything from George Clinton to J Dilla, not to mention the earthy mysticism of Erykah Badu. In 2023, James released and toured his Badu covers LP, On & On. “Living in her musical house for a year was transformative,” he says. “This is my summary of everything I learned through her, tying it to this idea that artists move differently. We are in society but we are outside, too, looking out and in at the same time. Our hours are different, our schedules are different.”

To that point, James and co. actually began each day in the woods, filming the album’s visual companion piece, Revenge of the Dragon, an honest-to-God kung-fu short complete with bad overdubs, training montages, camera tricks, and plot twists. The film pays tribute not only to the genre’s greatest year (1978, of course), but also its cinematic exchange with Blaxploitation, plus James’ own recent Shaolin training and admiration for Bruce Lee as a culture-bridging force (the LP’s cover recreates an iconic shot of Lee). On top of that, says James, “We had this immediacy in the studio. Live, one take, no overdubbing. I feel like that's where the martial arts piece comes in, where it's about being relaxed but also aware, and there's immediacy in your movements.”

Across the project, tribute takes that refracted, multifaceted form. From his personal late-’70s playlist, James chose four covers reflecting the era’s disco-fied churn: the MJ-meets-Quincy dancefloor masterpiece “Rock With You”; Herbie Hancock’s prescient vocoder fever dream, “I Thought It Was You”; and a pair of Black-radio hits from two bands whose fans typically wouldn’t have been caught dead in the same stadium: “Miss You” by the Rolling Stones and the Bee Gees’ “Inside and Out.” All of it gets filtered through a contemporary Black (and beyond) lens, coming out loud, free, funky, and buzzing — dynamic, yes, but also of a joyous piece.

1978: Revenge of the Dragon transports you to a crowded room where all this is playing out in real time. That feeling is helped out by opener “Tokyo Daydream,” a bass-driven swan dive into a neverending night of boutique bar-hopping and neon revelry. Later, “Rise of the Tiger” finds James bringing rare braggadocio to a propulsive track with growling synth lines and a hunger for whatever comes next. And then there’s the closer, “Last Call at the Mudd Club,” which with its upbeat energy and string of Stevie-inspired pickup lines, evokes the sort of unabashedly elated track the DJ throws on at 3:56 a.m. before everyone is kicked out. “I wanted to leave the album on that note,” says James. “If this was a night out in New York, this would be the last thing you hear before you get in that taxi and go back to your apartment.” Or, perhaps, back to 2025.

With their EP triptych "Thee Church Ov Acid House Volume 1–3," Oliver Bradford and Jörn Elling Wuttke created a holy trinity of diverse dancefloor variations, a self-contained circle of rave history.

In itself already a heavyweight statement, which they now crowned with “Bells & Whistles - Thee Remixes”. So to speak the quadrature of the circle And as with their original material, this release also reveals a profound knowledge of dance history in the selection of remixers - combined with the best of the here and now.

A1:
The trip begins with Jamie Hodges' ( Born Under A Rhyming Planet ) version of “Acid House Planet”. Hodge was responsible for a number of legendary EPs on Richie Hawtin's Plus 8 label in the early 90s, which explored the deep poetry of techno music. In this sense his remix is also a delicate affair of rarely heard beauty.

A2:
There's Thee Church Ov Acid House themselves, who stretch the swinging groove of Tyson's “G Phunk”, far too short in the original, to almost six minutes. A groove that won't stop.

B1:
And that brings us to the next two legends, this time from the local area. D-Man and Move-D have had a significant influence on dancefloor culture between Heidelberg and Mannheim since its inception. Their lysergic “Theme” remix, with Terrence McKenna vocals and acid twist in the middle, is an epic open air classic to come.

B2:
Lennard Poschmann's aka O-Wells' version of “Rave Mantra”, on the other hand, is deep, digging bass techno for the darkest moments of the night.

Vinyl EP2 featuring remixes of Man Power, As One ( Kirk Degiorgio ), HRDVSION ( Nathan Jonson ), Cosmic Cars ( Pudel Produkte, Smallville, Bureau B )

Das viel gesuchte klassische Orchester-Breakcore-Album "Rossz Csillag Allat Született" von Venetian Snares aus dem Jahr 2005 wird anlässlich seines 20-jährigen Jubiläums auf schwarzem Vinyl neu aufgelegt. Was wäre, wenn wir beide nur einen Tag lang Tauben sein könnten? Manchmal kann ein Moment in der Zeit eine so große Bedeutung erlangen, dass er zu einer endlosen Welt für sich wird und alles außerhalb dieses Moments, vergangene und zukünftige Zeitpunkte, zur Folklore dieser Welt werden. Was wäre, wenn wir beide die Királyi Palota überfliegen und sie so sehen könnten wie diese Tauben? Eine schöne Kultur von ungleichen Winkeln als Eselsengel über dieser Stadt. Aber auch in der Welt des unendlichen Augenblicks können wir uns die Feder unseres Vogels nicht aussuchen, und die Taube mag sich danach sehnen, die Gans zu sein, der Esel die Taube und so weiter. Und während unsere Welt aus diesem einen Tick in der Zeit erblüht, ist sie für die eine Taube eine wirbelnde romantische Flut euphorischer Möglichkeiten und Faszination, für die andere ein minderwertiges Leben, in dem sie auf jeden vom Himmel aus scheißt, unbeholfen und beschämt, und sich damit abfindet, die elende Plage zu sein, als die sie von denen, auf die sie scheißen, dargestellt wird. So schnell wie unsere Welt blüht, so schnell ist sie auch wieder im Unfrieden und unsere Tauben sind verwundet, und wenn unsere Welt stirbt, sterben auch wir, und wir sind ausgestorben. Wenn wir uns doch nur immer wieder umbringen könnten, bis wir es richtig machen. So wie ein ganzes Musikgenre aus einem einzigen beschleunigten Zehn-Sekunden-Breakbeat geboren werden kann, so kann ein komplettes Symphonieorchester in harmonischem Einklang zusammenkommen, um diesen perfekten Moment in der Zeit zu erschaffen, so kann jeder Moment eine völlig neue Welt hervorbringen, und jede Welt kann den perfekten Moment beherbergen, und so wie dieser Breakbeat bis zur Unkenntlichkeit gebrochen werden kann, so kann sich das Orchester zusammenschließen, um ein dissonantes Sperrfeuer kolossalen Kummers hervorzubringen, und so löst der Moment seine Welt auf, und diese Welt erstickt den Moment unter ihrem Zusammenbruch.

"Layers of Afternoon" soll eine bestimmte Zeiterfahrung widerspiegeln - etwas Greifbares und zugleich Unbestimmtes, das gefühlt, aber nicht leicht beschrieben werden kann. Diese Momente tauchen oft in Mustern auf, manchmal mal kurz, mal lang anhaltend, aber immer prägend. Wir erkennen ihre Einzigartigkeit, und doch sehnt sich etwas Unbewusstes in uns danach, diese Muster zu erkennen und ihnen zu frönen. Vielleicht vermeiden wir es, über sie zu sprechen, weil wir befürchten, dass sie banal oder belanglos klingen, doch sie kehren oft in unsere Erinnerungen zurück und bieten uns kollektiven Trost. Für Keith Kenniff alias Goldmund kann die Sprache diese Erfahrungen kaum vermitteln; nur Kunst und Musik scheinen das, was sie besonders macht, am ehesten einzufangen. Kenniff erklärt: ,Mein Ziel für die Musik in Layers of Afternoon war es, diesen Zwischenraum zu finden und von dort aus zu schreiben, in der Hoffnung, meine Erfahrung der Welt als ideal zu vermitteln - frei von Zielen, musikalischer Ausbildung oder emotionaler Komplexität. Ich wollte diesen Raum aufsuchen und die Momente im Akt der Schöpfung frei schweben lassen." In Zusammenarbeit mit dem Geiger Scott Moore erschafft Kenniff eine Klanglandschaft die sich zwischen Nostalgie und flüchtiger Gegenwart bewegt und es dem Hörer ermöglicht, sich durch die verschwommenen Ränder der Erinnerung treiben zu lassen.

Seit Marie Bothmers Debüt im Jahr 2016 mit „Es braucht Zeit“ ist sie für ihr stimmliches Talent bekannt geworden. Nachdem sie 2018 nach Berlin gezogen ist, widmete sie sich der Perfektionierung ihres Sounds. Mit der Veröffentlichung von „Swimmingpool“ im Jahr 2021, ihrem bisher erfolgreichsten Track, wurde ihre Hingabe belohnt.
„Ich bin fast schockiert“, sagt Marie Bothmer und meint damit die Tatsache, dass sie 29 Jahre alt sein wird, wenn 2025 ihr Debütalbum erscheinen soll. Und tatsächlich wird es dann fast zehn Jahre her sein, seit sie 2016 mit dem Song „Es braucht Zeit“ ihre musikalische Karriere startete.
Doch was ist ein Debütalbum? Es ist ein musikalischer Moment des Innehaltens. Und Innehalten, das war in den letzten Jahren nicht der Schwerpunkt im Leben und Schaffen der Marie Bothmer. Sie entwickelte sich beständig weiter, verarbeitete ihre Veränderungen in Songs, die ihr eine große Fangemeinde und Millionen von Streams einbrachten – und dachte dann, vor zwei Jahren: Jetzt ist der Moment für ihr Album gekommen. Sie hatte eine persönliche Zäsur hinter sich (schlimmer Heartbreak), fand in der Folge zu einem neuen Sound (frischer, jünger, wunderschön traurig) und war bereit für das erste große musikalische Statement. Daraus wurde dann aber nichts (Management- und Labelwechsel) – damals eine extrem frustrierende Erfahrung für Marie. Und rückblickend das Beste, was ihr passieren konnte.
Mit ihrer ersten Single-VÖ “Taxi Driver” (29.11.) vom kommenden Album startete sie nun in ein neues Kapitel ihrer musikalischen Laufbahn und eines auf das sich die Fans freuen können.
Das Jahr 2025 startet Marie Bothmer mit weiteren Singles, die im Frühjahr in ihrem Longplayer gipfeln werden und viel Raum für kreative Zusammenarbeit schafft. Let’s put it together.

Seit Marie Bothmers Debüt im Jahr 2016 mit „Es braucht Zeit“ ist sie für ihr stimmliches Talent bekannt geworden. Nachdem sie 2018 nach Berlin gezogen ist, widmete sie sich der Perfektionierung ihres Sounds. Mit der Veröffentlichung von „Swimmingpool“ im Jahr 2021, ihrem bisher erfolgreichsten Track, wurde ihre Hingabe belohnt.
„Ich bin fast schockiert“, sagt Marie Bothmer und meint damit die Tatsache, dass sie 29 Jahre alt sein wird, wenn 2025 ihr Debütalbum erscheinen soll. Und tatsächlich wird es dann fast zehn Jahre her sein, seit sie 2016 mit dem Song „Es braucht Zeit“ ihre musikalische Karriere startete.
Doch was ist ein Debütalbum? Es ist ein musikalischer Moment des Innehaltens. Und Innehalten, das war in den letzten Jahren nicht der Schwerpunkt im Leben und Schaffen der Marie Bothmer. Sie entwickelte sich beständig weiter, verarbeitete ihre Veränderungen in Songs, die ihr eine große Fangemeinde und Millionen von Streams einbrachten – und dachte dann, vor zwei Jahren: Jetzt ist der Moment für ihr Album gekommen. Sie hatte eine persönliche Zäsur hinter sich (schlimmer Heartbreak), fand in der Folge zu einem neuen Sound (frischer, jünger, wunderschön traurig) und war bereit für das erste große musikalische Statement. Daraus wurde dann aber nichts (Management- und Labelwechsel) – damals eine extrem frustrierende Erfahrung für Marie. Und rückblickend das Beste, was ihr passieren konnte.
Mit ihrer ersten Single-VÖ “Taxi Driver” (29.11.) vom kommenden Album startete sie nun in ein neues Kapitel ihrer musikalischen Laufbahn und eines auf das sich die Fans freuen können.
Das Jahr 2025 startet Marie Bothmer mit weiteren Singles, die im Frühjahr in ihrem Longplayer gipfeln werden und viel Raum für kreative Zusammenarbeit schafft. Let’s put it together.

I must admit to being a sucker for two-guitar bands. Ok, Hendrix pulled off a trio. But I don’t care what anybody says: The Yardbirds were a better band than anything that came out of them (Ok, maybe not Zep. But Cream?).

Maybe the reason I go back so far in my references is that, within the two-guitar band format, original new roles are difficult and rare. There’s the classic (socially problematic and often boring) “rhythm/lead” solution. There’s the JB’s or Nile Rodgers’ chicken pickin’ vs comping solution (which avoids chordal clashes by relegating one of the guitars to the role of single-note percussion instrument). There’s Ornette’s Prime Time division between Bern Nix’s rolled-off “jazz” tone and Charles Ellerbee’s trebly wah. Almost everything else is a variation on one of these.


In Ches Smith’s record Clone Row, each piece is built around a different concept for guitar interaction. The delightful and gifted weirdness of Mary Halvorson’s playing is counterpointed, contrasted, unisoned with, played off, juxtaposed (that is to say, enters every relationship possible) with Liberty Ellman’s equally amazing sound palette, chops, and imagination. This definitely ain’t your father’s guitar band.
The overall vibe of the record—despite Halvorson’s occasional noise outbursts or Ellman’s distorted guitar lines (see Mixed Fridge) is neither punk/funk, nor Zorn-ish metal—and certainly not the looser parameters of Ornette’s improvised harmolodics. Smith’s vibraphone playing, Halvorson’s guitar tone (whammy pedal squiggles aside), the brilliant electronics, and (most of all) the compositions themselves are somehow strangely West Coast cool. It’s as if I’m hearing a Jim Hall concert in which one of us did a lot of mushrooms, or (dare I write this?) some post-punk post-Dave Brubeck post-trip-hop experiment with classical form.

This recording is, most of all, about Ches as composer. He’s picked up a lot on his long, strange trip of the last few decades. The Haitian funkiness of his work with We All Break is audible—but deeply buried, encoded in the polyrhythms (check out Heart Breakthrough). His long-running side musician collaborations with John Zorn and Tim Berne are also evident but sublimated here into something new.

Not that improvising is absent. Check out the compelling collective statements in Sustained Nightmare and Ready Beat. Check out the brilliant interplay and bass soloing on Abrade With Me (a Weather Report for the age of extreme weather?) Nick Dunston is my favorite bassist of the new generation, and he plays brilliantly throughout. And Ches’ drumming here has all the groove, energy, and incredible range that have kept him in demand from Saturday night Vodou services to jazz and new music recording sessions (…the thinking man’s rock barbarian?).
The sus chords in Abrade With Me do build, for a moment, towards a fusion type of climax...but just at the moment I was gritting my teeth in anticipated defense against some horrible synth solo, the drums drop out, and we’re transported to the ambient lounge at the rave, and we suddenly understand we’re in the hands of a composer with the power to transport us just about anywhere.
So, this is a composer’s record most of all; a composer’s record performed by musicians who happen to be great improvisers. Ches Smith builds here on his reputation as a gifted new voice with an important vision, while showcasing some of the most creative musicians of our time.

Repress of 2018’s classic compilation from Brownswood.

A primer on London’s bright-burning young jazz scene, this new compilation brings together a collection of some of its sharpest talents. A set of nine newly-recorded tracks, We Out Here captures a moment where genre markers matter less than raw, focused energy. Looking at the album’s running order, it could easily serve as a name-checking exercise for some of London’s most-tipped and hardworking bands of the past couple of years. Recorded across three long, fruitful days in a North West London studio, the crossover between each of the groups speaks to the close-knit circles which make up the scene.

Surveying the way that London’s jazz-influenced music had spread outside of its usual spaces in recent years, this album bottles up some of the vital ideas emanating from that burgeoning movement. Giving a platform to a scene where mutual cooperation and a DIY spirit are second-nature, it’s a window into the wide-eyed future of London’s musical underground.

Ubiquitous, much-lauded saxophonist Shabaka Hutchings is the project’s musical director. His own recent projects span from South Africa-connected, spiritually-minded jazz players Shabaka and the Ancestors to Sons of Kemet, who match diasporically-connected compositions with viscerally-direct live shows. His entry on the album, ‘Black Skin, Black Masks’, is typically difficult-to-define: with an off-kilter, shifting rhythmic backbone, repeated phrases – mirrored between clarinet and bass clarinet – shape the track with an alluring hue. His input ties together a deft, genre-agnostic sensibility that’s shared through all the players on the record.

Theon Cross – who’s also part of Sons of Kemet with Hutchings – starts his track, ‘Brockley’, with the solo, distinctive low rumble of his tuba. Winding and mesmeric, it sees tuba and sax lines winding together in rhythmic and melodic parallels. Ezra Collective – whose drummer and bandleader Femi Koleoso has toured with Pharaohe Monch – run a tight, Afrobeat-tipped rhythm on ‘Pure Shade’, with the final third changing gear into a melodic, momentous closing stretch.

Joe Armon-Jones, whose ludicrous chops on the piano have seen him touring with the likes of Ata Kak, showcases earworm-like, insistent motifs on ‘Go See’, balanced with a playful, improvisatory approach with room for ad-libbing and solos a-plenty. Taking a softer tact than many of the other entries, Kokoroko – whose guitarist Oscar Jerome has been making waves with his solo material – spin a lyrical, steady-paced meditation on ‘Abusey Junction’, matching chanted vocals with gently-played guitar.

Nodding to spiritual jazz influences, Maisha’s ‘Inside The Acorn’ is a wandering, explorative rumination, balancing delicate washes of piano and percussion with sharp interplay between flute and bass clarinet. In contrast, Nubya Garcia’s ‘Once’ is taut and carefully-poised, her tenor sax guiding a carefully-built energy to an explosive conclusion. And finally, Triforce’s ‘Walls’ is a performance in two parts: starting with Mansur Brown’s languorous, lyrical guitar, the second half switches up to a low-slung, g-funk-tipped groove.

On her debut album, Lucy Gooch stays true to her electronic foundations, while incorporating more acoustic instrumentation and digging deeper into her folk roots through songwriting. But at the heart of Lucy's music is her rapturous vocal, with which she has experimented more than ever over the course of her first full-length. Many of the pieces on 'Desert Window' started out as vocal improvisations from which she pulled a narrative. Taking cues from the incantatory chanting found in middle English poetry such as 'The Names of the Hare', as well as the prescient imagery in contemporary works like 'The Hearing Trumpet' by Leonora Carrington (1974). "To a larger extent, this became an experiment in placing my voice in a more narrative way, while remaining oblique," Gooch explains. While her previous work could be compared to drawn-out landscapes punctuated with moments of romance and radiance, this album feels grounded in materiality and the everyday. Gooch's voice is at times strident, while elsewhere restrained and broken. "I lost connection to my voice and then had to rediscover it, which was exhilarating. There were these bursts of energy where I'd be messing around and occasionally stumble upon something". There are hushed melodies and exhausted squalls, creating dissonance and space. The result is an atmospheric balance between Kate Bush and Cocteau Twins harmonies, Vangelis major chords, and a juxtaposition of folk ambience reminiscent of the offset madrigals of The Third Ear Band and Italian cult film composers Goblin. It is a complex and elegant album, an all-consuming series of songs that reach into jazz, electronica and classical song construction.

On her debut album, Lucy Gooch stays true to her electronic foundations, while incorporating more acoustic instrumentation and digging deeper into her folk roots through songwriting. But at the heart of Lucy's music is her rapturous vocal, with which she has experimented more than ever over the course of her first full-length. Many of the pieces on 'Desert Window' started out as vocal improvisations from which she pulled a narrative. Taking cues from the incantatory chanting found in middle English poetry such as 'The Names of the Hare', as well as the prescient imagery in contemporary works like 'The Hearing Trumpet' by Leonora Carrington (1974). "To a larger extent, this became an experiment in placing my voice in a more narrative way, while remaining oblique," Gooch explains. While her previous work could be compared to drawn-out landscapes punctuated with moments of romance and radiance, this album feels grounded in materiality and the everyday. Gooch's voice is at times strident, while elsewhere restrained and broken. "I lost connection to my voice and then had to rediscover it, which was exhilarating. There were these bursts of energy where I'd be messing around and occasionally stumble upon something". There are hushed melodies and exhausted squalls, creating dissonance and space. The result is an atmospheric balance between Kate Bush and Cocteau Twins harmonies, Vangelis major chords, and a juxtaposition of folk ambience reminiscent of the offset madrigals of The Third Ear Band and Italian cult film composers Goblin. It is a complex and elegant album, an all-consuming series of songs that reach into jazz, electronica and classical song construction.