Buscar:more relation

In keeping with tradition, the new year brings another offering from Portuguese pianist and composer Tiago Sousa.

The fourth volume of the Organic Music Tapes series concludes this cycle that has significantly transformed Tiago Sousa’s music. Compositions in a fluid state, forming nebulae of sounds with vague contours for piano, organ, and tape loops, based on techniques pioneered by American minimalism, particularly by composers such as Steve Reich, Terry Riley, and Charlemagne Palestine.

While throughout this series the electric organ has played a more prominent role in contrast with pre-recorded loops, this is the moment when this technique is extended to the piano compositions. New opportunities arise for the repetition and variation of small motifs to induce subtle perceptions and psychoacoustic effects. This final edition represents the maturation of the Portuguese composer’s intentions surrounding the idea of organic music. In music, too, the organic world is quite different from the one built on the rules of syntax and grammar. It refers instead to a type of interdependent relationships and patient, repetitive processes that are simultaneously spontaneous and unpredictable, which shape rivers and mountains, the grain of wood, muscle fibers, or marks on a jade stone.

Enter then the fourth volume and be locked in a new theatre of eternal music by an artists that keeps pushing his own style to ebullient highs.

2026 Repress

Flickering in ultraviolet, there is an elusive place where blue pill meets red, ups become downs, and day merges with night. Those liminal spaces where anything is possible is where you’ll find Nightbus and their hypnotic debut album Passenger. Doom, uncertainty, and opportunity lurk in the shadowy corners of their murky existence with stops at disassociation, co-dependency, and addiction before reaching its final destination - a glimmer of hope.

The in-between of Nightbus’ own Gotham lies where Manchester’s city pulse meets Stockport’s outer realm. An audio-visual entity formed among a musical family of friends, freaks, and foes in messy mills and after hours on dancefloors alike, their sound bleeds from tension where collective creative forces are bound together and collide with the fallout of being torn apart. Before even playing a show, their So Young released single ‘Mirrors’ – a knowing nod of respect to some well-known gloomy Northerners - may have made old school indie heads shimmy at shows in Salford’s The White Hotel but also signalled the duo’s knack for offering listeners a Bandersnatch approach to hitchhiking their own personal Nightbus in whatever direction they choose to take. “Everyone can have their moment with our songs; the music is our response to who we are as young people, living in the city full of this energy right now,” they say.

Whilst reverb hefty melodies and dread-filled loops embody isolation from writing at each of their home studio set-ups, magic happens in the ether across 90s trip-hop, indie sleaze and electronica; Jake’s production layers Olive’s pop sentimentality with drums and samples whilst tales of a cast of faceless characters place Olive as puppet master; her severed self’s perspective manipulating their stringed limbs at arm’s length to see how their stories play out when scenes reflecting her own lie close to the bone. “It’s a bit fucked; like having this out of body experience with a made-up movie running through my head,” she says. “As I write I can see they’re all from a similar world, but they allow me to explore different feelings without giving away part of myself.”

Recorded at The Nave in Leeds with producer-engineer Alex Greaves (Heavy Lungs, Working Men’s Club), surprise and danger lies in every crevice. Brooding whispers turn to chants on 6-minute opus ‘Host.’ Improvised when performed live, its immersive shift in tempo leads to hefty dub courtesy of Jake’s pedals. Even then, you won’t know shit’s hit the fan until its mid-point reveal when ominous bass blasts a thunderous soundtrack as its protagonist defiantly walks away after committing the perfect crime. “It makes you wait, and more songs should have sirens,” Olive grins.

Leaning deeper into alter-egos via the video game-psychological horror of a Silent Hill dystopia, the band’s Fight Club moment ‘Angles Mortz’ turns its literal translation of death angles on its head as it reflects upon kink and internalised shame reincarnated as pride. Elsewhere the ice cool ‘Landslide’ is a Requiem for a Dream about the addiction of being in a band; ‘The Void’ explores co-dependency and estranged relationships; and carefully selected samples revive house track ‘Just A Kid’ from the band’s early incarnation. Passenger’s every direction is to face challenges head on. “That is what’s so great about horror; you can see through predictable patterns so when the unexpected occurs it's more realistic and uncomfortable… I want to own the dark stuff!”

As for Passenger’s first single, the pulsating ‘Ascension’ is a spiralling deep dive into death, suicide, and legacy around who or what we leave behind. A noughties club banger by way of NYC beats - ergonomically designed for those who like to stay out a little too often and too late - it throbs like a house party’s partition wall as the literal levelling up undergoes a neon transformation; blue glitching to pink, diffusing the white construct of the Nightbus Matrix. “It really does feel like the end of something and was purposely written that way,” they say, “the ascension is like a firework going off!”

With wheels in motion, Nightbus has become a movement surpassing sonic realms. Between shows from Porto to Brighton taking in The Great Escape, Rotterdam’s Left Of The Dial and Paris’ Supersonic; DJing; remixing; guesting (BDRMM’s Microtonic album); and even enlisting talented like-minds to craft a 3-part queer coming-of-age music video series which ties in with a new ‘hyperpop’ phase in the evolution of their popular Nightbus Soundsystem club night, heads are now being turned from sports brands to high-end fashion designers. “There are things we can’t reveal just yet,” tells Olive, “but we’re excited about the direction this beast we’ve created is heading.” As the album philosophises and asks one ultimate question; what does it truly mean to be ‘Passenger’? Nightbus may not claim to offer a definitive answer, but it might make you feel a bit better about those demons.

blickwinkel warmly welcomes Brussels-based composer Roxane Métayer to the label with her new album »Vies Sylvestres«, out on November 21 on vinyl and digital formats. The album was conceived and developed during performances and travels in Japan in 2023, where its sounds and ideas gradually came together.

»Vies Sylvestres« continues the direction of her previous release on Kraak, where Métayer built imagined narratives unfolding in forests or urban spaces inhabited by animal and plant characters. On this new album, however, the presence of these elements becomes more explicit and central. Field recordings are not solely used as backdrops but become compositions, complementing the instrumental works and expanding the album’s narrative into the realm of lived sound and place.

The listener encounters recordings of crickets and birds but we're also witnessing a scenery at a Buddhist temple. As such, combined with violin, electronics, and voice, Métayer explores the relationship between the natural environment and human culture. Her work bridges both worlds, showing how sound can connect different spaces and contexts.

In the summer of 2021, Brighton-based, Scottish-Thai songwriter Helen Ganya's grandmother passed away

The grief hit the artist hard, not only because it marked the loss of her last remaining grandparent, but also because it felt like her links to being half- Thai were disintegrating, roots quaking and shifting in uncharted territories. Ganya grew up in Singapore, but spent her summers in the northeast of Thailand where her mum's side of the family is from, visiting her grandmother. Where would all those memories go now that the person at the centre of them was gone? What was her relationship to this place without that glue? And so, in an attempt to process it all, Ganya began to write. "I got my diary and wrote every single memory of my time as a child in Thailand, spending time with her, my grandad, my aunts and cousins and everything," she explains, "I had these snapshots of memories that I just wrote down because I just suddenly panicked: it was like, who am I, then?" It was for this reason that, while Helen Ganya was waiting for her acclaimed 2022 album, polish the machine, to come out, she was already working on what would become her arresting new record, Share Your Care. Ganya has been releasing music since 2015 (formerly under the moniker Dog in the Snow). In the records she's put out over the years, she's shown a proclivity towards dark and artful rock and off- kilter sounds, garnering praise from the likes of the Sunday Times, Uncut, Clash, Loud & Quiet and more. But Share Your Caremarks a new era, building on Ganya's past sonic worlds and interspersing them with traditional Thai instrumentation, resulting in a plush, luminous, psych-tinged affair that is full of feeling. The result is a triumphant, abundant record, teeming with heart and cinematic warmth.

We the cyber ants
survivors of the post human era
by smashing dystopic hegemonies
together in colonies we cooperate
through a chemical communication strategy.
Crossing underground labyrinths
as clever roots
in symbiotic relationships we live and
in freaky spirals we dance 'til down.
Catching electricity with feelers
we destroy the buildings of
the enemies of love.
We're a neglected community
an unconquered moltitude of
Yessensis
Longicornis
Solenopsis and Subterranean
Martialis Eureka
Colobopsis Explodens and more.
Souls inside exoskeletons
we don't need your past
'cause we are your future.

James Brown wants to know one thing before he and his band begin Sex Machine. “Can I get into the thing, really?,” he asks. His cohorts enthusiastically respond in the affirmative. And for the next hour and change, Mr. Dynamite gets into it and more, turning in a sweat-soaked, feet-moving, hip-swiveling, emotion-purging, in-the-red, drop-everything-you’re-doing-and-dance performance for the ages. Ranked by Rolling Stone among the 500 Greatest Albums of All Time, the sweeping 1970 effort towers as a testament to Brown’s inimitable legacy as well as the peak powers of his voice, vibrancy, and bands.

Sourced from the original master tapes, pressed at Fidelity Record Pressing, and housed in a Stoughton gatefold jacket, Mobile Fidelity’s numbered-edition 180g 33RPM 2LP set presents Sex Machine in audiophile sound for the first time. It explodes with the energy the lightning-strike music demands. Dynamic, immediate, present, airy: Everything from the brassiness and fluidity of the horns to the snap and decay of the snare to the swell and carry of the organ comes across in full-range perspective.

Then there’s Brown’s superhuman singing, which here emerges with a purity, naturalism, and transparency that ensure you feel everything. Screeching, shouting, pleading, moaning, preaching, stinging, commanding, testifying, crooning, humming: The Godfather of Soul contributes one of the finest vocal performances known to man. This definitive 55th anniversary reissue of Brown’s monster funk statement further exhibits a combination of clarity, solidity, separation, and imaging that helps bring to light what he and his crack ensembles committed to tape. Both in the studio and on the stage.

Just how lifelike does this reissue sound? Senior Mobile Fidelity Sound Lab engineer Krieg Wunderlich, who handled the remaster, notes: “There were some artifacts that sounded a bit like mistracking. But they turned out to be breath blasts on the vocal microphone. That is part of history. JB was workin' hard, and breathin' hard. And there was an edit the timing of that was truly strange. Again, a part of history.”

Originally marketed as a live album, Sex Machine contains six songs recorded in the studio and later overdubbed with canned crowd noise and reverberation. Save for “Low Down Popcorn,” the tracks on the latter half stem from a phenomenal performance captured in October 1969 at Bell Auditorium in Brown’s adopted hometown of Augusta, GA. The special relationship between the singer, the audience, and the location is palpable.

As the 1960s gave way to a new decade, Brown experienced immense success and dealt with unexpected change. Soul Brother Number One soon expanded his idea for an official live album captured in Augusta when the ensemble that backed him on that date morphed into the original version of the world-famous J.B.’s just months after the show. The virtuosic abilities, sticky chemistry, and rhythm-forward nature of the J.B.’s prompted him to book a one-off session in Cincinnati, OH, on a late July night.

Anchored by brothers William “Bootsy” Collins and Phelps “Catfish” Collins, the group — as well as two different drummers — laid down a nearly 11-minute rendition of “Get Up I Feel Like Being Like a Sex Machine” and a thrilling medley of “Bewildered,” “I Got the Feeling,” and “Give It Up or Turnit a Loose.” A pair of then-recent studio singles cut in separate locations in 1969, “Brother Rapp” and “Low Down Popcorn,” each featuring his prior group, took care of the second LP worth of material that complements the originally planned live set.

Complicated? Somewhat. Unusual? Definitely. But just as he elevated the expectations for all present and future R&B artists, Brown not only makes it all work. He makes it positively electrifying.

“Get Up I Feel Like Being Like a Sex Machine” is alone deserving of a dissertation on the art of funk music, seeing it moves up and down akin to an oil derrick, witnesses Brown unleashing a trademark series of grunts, squeaks, and “good god” asides, and glides to a hypnotic groove that won’t quit. Or look to the syncopated rhythms of “Brother Rapp (Part I and Part II),” one of multiple pieces here that signify the point where Brown began viewing every instrument as a percussive tool. Brown closes the three-song medley with his new band with a skedaddling “Give It Up or Turnit a Loose,” which provides jolts on the order of sticking your finger into a socket.

Not that the actual live material falls short in any way. Setting an insistent tempo for the vitality that follows, “I Don’t Want Nobody to Give Me Nothing” positions Brown as a role model, leader, and self-sufficient entrepreneur. All simmer and boil, the short and sweet “Licking Stick” dares you to keep pace. The floating, almost comforting “Spinning Wheel” spotlights the instrumental prowess of Maceo Parker and company, and functions as a seamless segue into the tender, horn-saluted “If I Ruled the World.”

And Brown and his mates still aren’t done. Just try to resist the one-two closing punch of “I Can’t Stand Myself (When You Touch Me)” and “Mother Popcorn.” Mercy.

Ain’t it funky? Sure ‘nuff.

Agathe Plaisance, a self-taught visual artist and musician, creates a universe where the softness of folk origins gradually metamorphoses, giving way to sonic explorations that push the door open to other worlds. Her light-and-dark electronic pop plunges us into her inner world, with deeply intimate lyrics about illness, addiction, the relationship with oneself and with others. The Lynchian atmosphere created by the synth layers surround an ethereal voice, echoing the work of artists such as Cat Power and Mazzy Star. Through a live performance of continuous tension, the woman in the making explores herself and seeks to transcend her pain in order to reinvent herself. With this new album, Agathe Plaisance delivers an intense and introspective work, born from a period of deep depression. She explores with honesty her anger, losses, fears, and addictions, while also casting a clear-eyed gaze on those of others. Despite the darkness that runs through the record, glimpses of hope, love, and light begin to surface, offering a path toward healing. Deep Rest is more than just a title - it's a metaphor, a play of shadow and light at the heart of the project. The artist transforms pain into a tool for reinvention. Her folk beginnings gradually give way to more electronic and experimental sounds - a shift that mirrors her personal rebirth.

Will Dorey (aka Skinshape) and Ben Bell founded Horus Records in 2013, driven by a shared passion for vintage Jamaican music. Originally launched as a reissue label focusing on rare and hard-to-find reggae gems, Horus has since evolved into a space for original studio productions rooted in the rich traditions of 60s and 70s Jamaican reggae and dub.

Lifelong collaborators and friends, Will and Ben have been making music together for over two decades. Their deep connection to the genre has led to long-standing relationships with many of reggae’s most respected musicians, several of whom contribute to their latest studio album. This new release is a fully analogue reggae/dub studio album, showcasing the duo’s production craft and featuring guest vocalists Andy Platts, Modou Touré, and Winston Reedy. Blending classic influences with fresh interpretations, the album includes original compositions alongside inspired covers, such as a distinctive reggae reworking of the Interstellar theme tune.

Outside of the studio, Ben Bell is co-owner of Lion Vibes Record Shop, one of London's leading reggae specialists, while Skinshape continues to push sonic boundaries from the same studio, known for his unique cross-genre productions spanning funk, psych, soul, and more.

Her music is a form of auditory interpretation, powered by curiosity and her toolkit of modular, analog, and rare synthesizers (including her signature Buchla), orchestral textures, and voice. Since her first self-releases in 2012 (Tides), she has explored the endless possibilities of electronic instruments and the relationship between sound, shape, color, body movement, and expression. GUSH follows Kaitlyn's recent collaboration with Hot Chip's Joe Goddard on the 2024 Neptunes EP, and it marks the first taste of new music since her 2022 full-length Lets Turn It Into Sound, which was nominated for the LIBERA Awards Best Electronic Album of the Year and won the praise of NPR Music, Pitchfork, The Guardian, Bandcamp, and more. In GUSH, she sets her sights on aesthetics, focusing on the heightened awareness of and presence in the world, where every interaction whether with people, objects, or nature has the potential to become a moment of connection, and personification.

Slip is Paul Abbott’s response to his 3 day residency at OTO in 2023. It’s a continued exploration of the acoustic-digital hybrid drum setup Abbott has been developing for some time, which involves drum kit and synthetic sounds combined closely—through an entanglement of limbs and cables—in an intimate but strange relationship with each other.

Paul Abbott hasn’t had any formal musical training, but has a long history of making music, having collaborated for years with Seymour Wright, Pat Thomas, Michael Speers, Cara Tolmie, Anne Gillis and many others. Eventually, led by a profound suspicion of what is fixed or limited, Abbott began finding other ways to organise sound - or what he calls ‘material’:

“I wanted a way to 'persuade' or guide the possibility of something happening - my activity or the events of an algorithmic composition - for example, but without certainty or formalism. It felt to me, during playing, that certain ideas had a particular sort of shape, but more than the form of a line. I began to write alongside (before/after) playing the drums, and ‘characters’ began to enter the scene as a more wobbly, and therefore appropriate option to notation. Working with these characters allowed me to simultaneously approach body, imagination, language and music: without dividing things up or separating these aspects from each other. It allowed me to leave things messy and entangled, whilst trying to deal with form and specificity: wanting to have some things feel or respond differently to other things at other times.”

In approaching his residency, Abbott developed a fixed cast of characters - crystal, lleaf, reiy.F, reiy.C, strike, nee, qosel, sphu and aahn. They each communicate using different kinds of movement and drum kit/s, and Abbott choreographed them as ‘dances’ based on different feelings, or outlines of behaviours suggestive of ways of moving (body, drums, sounds). He then arranged these characters into ‘compositions’: one for each performance day, with each composition featuring multi-layered activity - options for behaviours, ways to move around the rooms, play drums, develop synthetic sounds, change the lights or re-distribute the sound in the space.

After the performances, Abbott took home 9 hours of recordings split into up to 28 multitrack channels for each day, and re-organised his cast once more into a performance for 2LP, CD and digital. It’s an enormous amount of work - but Abbott is activated by the process. For him, the pleasure of unstable edges, possibilities, slippages, is the vital attraction. Like all living organisms, Abbott’s characters have malleability and responsivity. They stimulate a bundle of possible behaviours, a tendency to act a certain way, a temperament, a boundary of respective limits or affordances.

It’s an affective way of working, inclusive of Roscoe Mitchell, Sun Ra, Nathaniel Mackey and Milford Graves. In ‘Pulseology’(2022), Milford Graves reminds us, ‘Breath varies, so cardiac rhythm never has that (metronomic) tempo. It’s always changing. All the alignments of the heart are determined based on the needs of the cells, specifically tissues and organs. The heart knows if it needs to speed up.’ In Slip, to slip, in a heartbeat, is to descend not into the grid of the even metre accorded to the heartbeat, but into a play of mutability and modality. To change is the condition of the heart.

2025 Repress

DJ Koze exists both above and beyond club culture as we know it - his albums and remixes flying free from genre and trend - and symbiotically woven into its heart. Yes, he always abstracts and weirds out the principles of house, techno, hip hop, pop, psychedelia, exotica and so forth, but he does that because he understands them. And when it comes to club-demolishing tracks, he understands those principles as well as just about anybody on earth. Thus he could create an enduring club tune like 2015's 'XTC' that is strange, contemplative, even disturbing, bore little relation to anything around at the time, yet still got bodies moving and sweating better than way more obvious techno bangers. And thus the Knock Knock album, which melts a million genres and none into one another, can comfortably include 'Seeing Aliens". 'Seeing Aliens' unquestionably is a banger, its bass riff snaking around your body like a python, its high-drama strings, pianos and outbursts of noise designed for maximum crowd pressure release. But, again, it sounds like nothing else, and its dynamics and twists unfold over eight and a half minutes in ways that will mess with your head every time no matter how many times you hear it. The exclusive b-side track, 'Nein König Nein' ("No King No"!), meanwhile, is slightly gentler on the face of it: it's less about sonic pressure, more about hip-shaking syncopation. But it too tells strange fairytales in its peculiar and brain-tweaking accumulation of detail, and though you'll hear archetypal sounds from the heart of house and disco in it, every last one of them becomes new and otherworldly.

Househead London launch their 2nd 12" release - a limited-edition Chicago Vs London sampler featuring Glenn Underground and Emmaculate Remixes.

Following a string of critically acclaimed events featuring Chi-Town royalty, Househead London further cement their relationship with Chicago on this vinyl release which features two of the city’s esteemed producers - Glenn Underground & Emmaculate - remixing two sterling new tracks from two of the UK’s most exciting producers - Prefix One and Wez Whynt.

Opening the EP is an artist who needs very little introduction, Glenn Underground. A leading international producer & DJ who seems to effortlessly slide between Deep, Soulful, Disco, Jazz and beyond, Glenn boasts an exceptional discography that very few could compete with. His Cosmic Disco Journey Mix here weaves its lo slung groove in a funky off-kilter disco style with piano ripples as Nambi’s voice shimmers on top. Nambi’s heartfelt soars across Glenn’s Cosmic Journey remix unfurling beautiful piano and taut Chi-town beats. Deep and vocal, it’s got that raw soul power that both Glenn and Chicago are known for.

Known for his exquisitely high attention to detail and quality, Emmaculate is one of the go-to producers and sound engineers in Chicago. Working closely with Terry Hunter on a multitude of projects and a shining light across the global soulful house scene, he’s regularly featured across impressive labels such as Dopewax, Yorubasoul, United Music, Soulstice Music and S&S Records. His lush, tough-edged Remix of ‘Feelin’, rolls on with melodic piano hooks to unlock the groove and boosted with extra keys and vocal refrains before the full vocal unfolds. Solid and deep, “Feelin’ is pure joy for the dance floor.

Brand new music from the space cavern for 2025. "Intersatelital" is the new exploration in sound from Vinnum Sabbathi, encompassing the relationship between us humans and the machines we have created to aid in our quest towards the expansion and conquest of space beyond our home planet, taking special focus on a pivotal point in time for Mexico. Back in 1985, two satellites (Morelos I & II) were put in orbit under the NASA missions STS-51-G and STS-61-B. These satellites became crucial for advancing communications in Mexican territory and were controlled and monitored by Mexican engineers in the heart of Mexico City. Mission STS-61-B also featured the first-ever Mexican astronaut, Dr Rodolfo Neri, who set several experiments in orbit as well as taking photo documentation of the country from space, and, with all of this, Mexico entered a new era of technology and communications. A sonic testament of the intricate human-machine comradeship from the last century.

Ne$$ and Baby J’s 3rd album comes after a long collaborative working relationship from previous group A-Alikes. Ne$$ has recently done a series of UK shows in London, Leicester and Birmingham as well as an upcoming feature on 05.21 YouTube channel and interviews on Itch FM. The tracks have also been supported on Soho radio and by Shotry Blitz. The album represents an original voice in hip-hop, addressing working-class proletariat stories of street life, and the effects of capitalism on black and poor people. Ne$$ has been a successful part of the US hip-hop seen over the past two decades, working with the likes of Mos Def, Dead Prez and Bilal. Baby J is an established UK, hip-hop producer whose production credits include Amy Winehouse, Skinnyman, Dead Prez, Plan B and Mark Ronson. The album is sonically broken and dark with a raw purist Hip Hop sound.

From the maniacal opening notes and carnival barker howl that launch the album, The Ugly Organ wasted no time searing itself into a listener's ears and quickly established Cursive as a musical force with which to be reckoned. A selfaware examination of artistic constraints (or lack thereof), relationships, sex, and the intersection of all three, The Ugly Organ wowed critics and audiences alike with its cerebral, cathartic blend of songs. Fiercely intelligent and cohesive - the liner notes laid the songs out like a play, complete with stage directions - across its diverse sonic landscape, the album landed Cursive on the Sunday Arts & Leisure section cover of The New York Times (which also called it "a marvelous collection of riddles and left turns, conceived as a single piece of musical theater") and earned accolades from Rolling Stone ("a brilliant leap forward"), Entertainment Weekly, Billboard, Alternative Press, MAGNET ("The best punk record you'll hear all year"), Esquire, and SPIN, among many others, as well as a place on numerous year-end best lists. The Ugly Organ feels as vibrant and vital today as it did upon release more than 20 years ago. A landmark album, it not only catapulted Cursive from the simmering indie underground to the forefront of a genre, but also served to inspire a host of young bands in its wake.

Emile Sornin has a robot in his life. It's not love, but it's not friendship either, and Forever Pavot is releasing an album documenting the affair on Born Bad. After a bunch of bold pop studio albums and a small stack of soundtracks, Emile needed a break. To put an end to it, he embarked with handyman extraordinaire Jonas Euvremer on the manufacture of an automaton destined to make his musician’s life easier. Melchior, who gave his name to the record, has the face of a ventriloquist's dummy, two plastic left hands, preppy clothes and a primitive logic circuit. This goodie two-shoes cousin of Bender’s is supposed to be doing the interviews and deal with socials for Emile. The plan worked admirably : Melchior is a perfect cover-boy, and his very existence has put our man back to work.



They set a path for phat electronic ventures (and by the way, mostly english-speaking). Sub- continental bass & massive drums, heavy-footed and unabashed : as much appreciated as unexpected. The half-android shares songwriting credits and vocal parts vocoded to perfection. Not a jealous lad, Melchior makes way for a guest of choice on “UFO” and “Waiting for the sign” : Lispector. Julie Margat sings and collaborated on the lyrics for these two bangers that provide a lot of context (robot angst is real). Kumisolo, our favorite Japanese « it » girl in Paris, also sent her “Postcard”, more vapour than song, unreal musical cotton candy of arrangements.


Domotic, who mixes and co-produces, gives a nice spin to “Count to 10”, a hip-hop/kraut crossover with a BEAK> flavour. The Forever Pavot, once a big-band, will be touring as a bass/ drums/keys & vocals trio, with Melchior as guest.



Record after record, Emile Sornin has become an increasingly literate musical illiterate. When needed, his music can still become a thicket of ancient and modern finds. « Le robot gentilhomme », a skillful pastiche of baroque composer Jean-Baptiste Lully, would stand a few rounds against Wendy Carlos. His love for oldies also shines through “Skyway”, a nod to the late Pierre Arvay, France’s Colonel Sanders of library music nuggets.



Forever Pavot may have gone wild, but remains indebted vis-à-vis the golden age of film music. Forebears deluxe Ennio Morricone & François de Roubaix make Hitchcock-style cameos: discreet appearances that you’ll watch out for (those syncopated cascades of syllables at the end of « UFO », and I guess we can indulge with some clavichord/ondioline Victoria sponge). His new flirt is all but a toxic relationship. « Melchior, Vol. 1 »: the robo-bromance is not over yet.

Heavyweight psychedelic improvisers EarthBall are back with their third and most monstrous record to date: ‘Outside Over There’, released on Upset The Rhythm (Nov 7th). Born from the haunted basements of Nanaimo, Canada, the quintet thrives on spontaneity, shaping improvisation into jagged hallucinations and ecstatic eruptions.
Recorded live-off-the-floor in 2024 in Jeremy, Izzy, and Kellen’s basement, and mixed by drummer John Brennan, ‘Outside Over There’ is an album that feels both summoned and inevitable. Each track lands with uncanny purpose, as if uncovered rather than written.
The opener, 100%, features a cameo from comedian and English icon Stewart Lee, who lent his blessing for the band to use a fragment of his stand-up. The album was mastered by John Dieterich (Deerhoof), with liner text contributed by longtime comrade John Olson (Wolf Eyes). Olson describes the album in his unmistakable style:
“This eight-track odyssey unfolds like a dreamscape, where whispered incantations brush against the shadowy fringes of the cosmos, and wild, Cézanne-inspired rock anthems erupt like geysers of color in the midst of a western warm and wet rain storm… culminating in the sprawling eleven minute masterpiece, ‘And The Music Shall Untune The Sky,’ aptly dubbed the Earth Crusher. A creation so utterly deconstructed and intertwined with the pulse of nature itself that if AI was called upon to conceive ‘Outside Over There’ anew, it would just spit back, “F.U. in Tree Font”. An enchanting invitation for even the flat-earthers to join the circle, if only just a little.”
EarthBall’s trajectory has been relentless. Their 2024 album ‘It’s Yours’ was praised by The Quietus as “fully aggressive and fully life-affirming,” and by The Wire as "a boisterous mind-melting album”. The band’s live double set LP ‘Actual Earth Music Vol. 1 & 2’ (2025) captured blistering performances: a performance opening for Wolf Eyes at the Fox Cabaret, and a Café OTO improvised throw-down featuring Chris Corsano and Steve Beresford. These releases on their own confirm them as one of Canada’s most vital experimental exports, not to mention the impressive self-released discography on their Bandcamp. The band’s reach has stretched far beyond their west coast roots with a UK tour May 2024, plus this past June, EarthBall closed Montreal’s Suoni Per Il Popolo Festival alongside Pulitzer Prize-winning composer Raven Chacon. This November they will perform at Le Guess Who? Festival in Utrecht, with a European tour to follow (tour dates below). Outside of EarthBall, each member carries their own torch. Jeremy Van Wyck, founding member of the legendary Shearing Pinx, has toured extensively, released over 100 records, and has been a vital force in the Vancouver and West Coast underground for the past 25 years. He and Isabel Ford (Izzy) play together not only in EarthBall, but also in Psychedelic Dirt, Shearing Pinx, Behaviours, and Crotch.
John Brennan collaborates widely, including recently with Endlings (Raven Chacon and John Dieterich), Evichen (Victoria Shen), Francesco Fonassi, Plan Your Future (with Greg Saunier of Deerhoof), Brennan/Corsano duo and Physics with John Dieterich. Kellen Maclaughlin performs with KVMP and Ora Corgan, while saxophonist Liam Murphy is a west coast staple, playing with the best across Vancouver Island and the mainland. On three of the tracks of ‘Outside Over There’, the band is joined by their comrade Justin Patterson, who also plays with Brennan in the duo Modale. This cross-pollination fuels EarthBall’s sound - a collective improvisation, psychically overdriven, and grinding into bloom.
Outside Over There’ is more than an album though, it is a ritual, a gathering of sound at the forest’s edge; where feedback, saxophone screams, and ecstatic vocals dissolve the boundary between chaos and clarity. EarthBall invite you into their circle, to share in the joyful terror of spontaneous creation. ‘Outside Over There’ will be released on November 7th through Upset The Rhythm digitally and as a limited blue-in-black vinyl LP.

A Single Woman was reissued in 2006, adding seven of those performances left behind. Now, four more previously unissued recordings from those sessions have been added to create A Single Woman: The Complete Elektra Recordings—21 tracks on CD and double-LP. Newly remastered, this collection also contains new liner notes from the British Ambassador of Soul, David Nathan, outlining both the recording of the album, but also recounting his nearly three-decade relationship with Dr. Simone—beginning when he formed the UK Nina Simone Appreciation Society in 1965. Experience this icon’s final studio recordings in the most comprehensive way with A Single Woman: The Complete Elektra Rcordings.

The anticipation is there in Elizabeth Stokes’ solo guitar riff under the opening lines of “I’m Not Getting Excited”: a frenetic, driving force daring a packed Auckland Town Hall to do exactly the opposite of what the track title suggests.

As the opener of The Beths’ Auckland, New Zealand, 2020 expands to include the full band, the crowd screeches and bellows. It’s a collective exhalation, in one of the few countries where live music is still possible.

The album title, and film of the same name, deliberately include the date and location, lead guitarist Jonathan Pearce says. “That’s the sensational part of what we actually did.” In a mid-pandemic world, playing to a heaving, enraptured home crowd feels miraculous.

In March 2020, everything seemed on track for another huge year for The Beths. Home after an 18-month northern hemisphere tour, they had just finished recording sophomore album Jump Rope Gazers and were primed for more extensive touring. But within days, New Zealand’s lockdown split the band between three separate houses. All touring was cancelled.

“It was existentially bad,” Stokes says. As well as worrying about economic survival, they lost something crucial to the band’s identity: live performance. “It's a huge part of how we see ourselves... What does it mean, if we can't play live?”

The band found an outlet through live-streaming, returning to the do-it-yourself mentality of their early days to connect with a global audience. The album and film have their genesis in that urge to share the now-rare experience of a live show, as widely as possible.

The fuzzy-round-the-edges live-streams pointed the way aesthetically. Native birds, wonkily crafted by the band from tissue paper and wire, festoon the venue’s cavernous ceiling while house plants soften and disguise the imposing pipes of an organ. The presence of the film crew isn’t disguised: much of the camerawork is handheld; full of fast zooms and pans.

With much of the material still fresh, the band was less focused on re-invention than playing “a good, fast rock show”, Pearce says. The tempo is up on crowd favourites “Whatever” and “Future Me Hates Me” (released as a live single on its third anniversary) as both band and audience feed off the mutual energy in the room.

Certain songs have taken on special resonance post-Covid. Pearce has found “Out Of Sight”, a tender rumination on long-distance relationships, hits particularly hard with live audiences.

Album closer “River Run” visibly brings Stokes to tears as a mix of achievement and relief kicks in. “You can finally relax at that point … You play the last note, breathe out a sigh and look up - and you’re in a giant room full of people happy and smiling.”

Unlike anything we have heard from her before, Okkyung Lee returns to Shelter Press with "Just Like Any Other Day: Background Music For Your Mundane Activities", a deeply intimate body of recordings at the juncture of ambient music, minimalism, and the baroque, that stands as radical intervention with what experimental music can be, and the place that organisations of sound occupy in our lives. For more than two decades, Okkyung Lee has stood at the forefront of the most radical trajectories of experimental music: a virtuosic cellist and improviser, renowned for her creative rigour and emotive depth. Particularly noteworthy for her range, dexterity, and adaptability, over the last five years Lee's output has revealed unexpected shifts and developments that move far afield from the realms of free improvisation for which she is most well known. 2020's "Yeo - Neun", a heart-wrenching, ambient chamber work - drawing inspiration from the Korean popular music of her youth - was issued by Shelter Press to great critical response, followed closely by "Teum (The Silvery Slit)" - one of a series engrossing electroacoustic works created at Groupe de Recherches Musicales in Paris - on Portraits GRM, and then "Na-Reul" in 2021, regarded by Lee as a closing statement of more than two decades living in New York, which set the precedent of her allowing her emotions to fully occupy the forefront of the music for the first time. Marking her return to Shelter press, "Just Like Any Other Day": Background Music For Your Mundane Activities", encounters Lee upturning the apple cart once again, weaving a profoundly intimate artistic statement on completely unexpected terms. Like its three aforementioned predecessors, "Just Like Any Other Day" belongs to broadening shift in Lee's approach to composing that roughly aligns with her return to her native South Korea, having lived in the United States since her late teens. Infused with a deep reengagement with her own culture and relationship to memory, it is equally a response to those critical challenges and questions provoked by significant life change. Worked on in isolation, and continuously returned to, over the course of four years, the album's nine pieces began with a simple recognition that experimental music is not always what we imagine it to be. It is a practice and a pursuit - a music for which, at its inception, the outcome is unknown - rather than an idiom defined by certain syntaxes, approaches, and qualities of structure and sound. From this departure point, Lee began to inquire after the utility of music itself: what is it for, what does it do, and what place does it (or can it) occupy in our lives? This solitary and durational journey, each composition gradually moving through different phases and evolutions over years, led Lee toward uncharted ground: a music that is not only playful, introspective, and seductive, but also intended to provoke a relationship to experimental music beyond its normative expectations. Rather active or deep listening, it pursues passive listening. Rather than a grand statement, it is discreet. Rather than virtuosity, it embraces the elegant and direct. Even more strikingly, for the first time, the music of "Just Like Any Other Day" encounters Lee leaving the cello entirely behind. Created at home on keyboard, computer, and an inexpensive cassette recorder, "Just Like Any Other Day" presents a remarkable form of ambient music - organisations of sound that become their own environment, to be occupied - intended, as the album's subheading infers, as Background Music For Your Mundane Activities. An expansion of the creative pathways opened by the Korean pop imbued compositions of Yeo - Neun, aspects of electronic process explored by "Teum (The Silvery Slit)", and the emotive foregrounding of "Na-Reul", each of the pieces presented across the two sides of "Just Like Any Other Day" implies something far greater than the limits of its own temporarily: a mood, provocations of memory and place, mirrors for the solitude within which it was made, and palpable emotion lingering just out of grasp. For Lee, each of the album's compositions could be continued or looped for an indeterminate duration: straddling a ground between the minimal and the baroque, enveloping the listener in endless cycles of appreciating, repetitive and rhythmical notes, flirting with the melodic and implying a disembodied imagism that borders on the profound. Remarkably beautiful and direct, Okkyung Lee's "Just Like Any Other Day: Background Music For Your Mundane Activities" - issued by Shelter Press on vinyl - represents a radical reconfiguration of experiential music, stripped to its bare essence in defiance of the widely presumed aesthetic signifiers. Unlike anything we've heard from her before, this immersive body of intimate recordings not only reveals new dimensions of Lee's striking range as an artist, but also of how we might regard and occupy music itself: an ambience to lived and felt like a second skin.