Includes a printed inner sleeve and a double-sided 12"x12" poster.
The upcoming album from Telemakus, featuring an all-star supporting cast of musicians: Flying Lotus, Karriem Riggins, Mndsgn, Liv.e, Sparklmami, Miguel Atwood-Ferguson, Swarvy, Chino Corvalán, Nicole McCabe and more. Pressed via Good Neighbor on a Cosmic Black record made from eco-conscious, 100% recyclable PET plastic.
All songs written, performed, engineered & arranged by Telemakus, except where noted “Five Hands Pt. 1” written and co-produced by Swarvy, “Revival” co-produced by Mndsgn, Karriem Riggins “By Any Feet Necessary” co-produced by Karriem Riggins “2054” co-produced by Karriem Riggins
Polygonia and Simon Popp present ‚Apiformes‘, the second collaborative release from the two Munich-based artists.
As with 2023‘s ‘Candid’, ‘Apiformes’ was born from pure improvisation. Originating from the stems of four concerts, additional elements were built on from a foundation of live recordings — an intuitive endeavor by the musicians with such integrated effects to give one the impression of a sole sonic organism, and mystifying which sound is coming from which performer. Rapid creative decisions create an intriguing sense of aliveness, producing a uniquely vibrant buzz of jazz and electronic influences.
The duo set an otherworldly tone in their latest release, with leanings towards acoustic and percussion-heavy instrumentation, combined with playful synthetic musings which create a sense of opening up: an intriguing and earnest exploration of the ethereal, and what is available in nature as a window to the divine. Named for the scientific name for bees, the project’s mix of warm, dynamic improvisation and sequenced synth instrumentalisation mimic the similarly complex mathematical structures of a bee colony: a visual and sonic world made up of geometric shapes, mating dances and navigation patterns, sensations perhaps most energetically available through a sense of wonder rather than logical extrication.
Long before streaming services, podcasts, or even the compact disc, there was Tellus—a radically ambitious publication that imagined recorded sound as an exhibition space. Founded in 1983 in downtown New York, Tellus transformed the humble audio cassette into a magazine, commissioning and publishing new works by musicians, composers, visual artists, poets, writers, choreographers, and performers who were reshaping the boundaries of contemporary art. Each issue invited listeners into a world where no wave, industrial music, spoken word, Fluxus performance, electroacoustic composition, downtown pop, conceptual art, and avant-garde experimentation could coexist on equal footing. More than forty years later, Earth Libraries proudly presents TELLUS: The Audio Cassette Magazine Anthology Vol. 1, the first comprehensive anthology devoted to the groundbreaking publication. The story of Tellus begins, fittingly, at the Rum Runner Bar on Canal Street. There, in 1983, visual artist Joseph Nechvatal, curator Claudia Gould, and composer Carol Parkinson conceived an entirely new kind of publication. Portable cassette players were transforming how people experienced music, and the trio saw an opportunity to use the cassette itself as a curatorial medium—one capable of circulating work that traditional record labels, galleries, and magazines simply couldn't accommodate. Early recordings by Sonic Youth and Liquid Liquid sit alongside works by James Tenney, George Brecht, Takehisa Kosugi, Carol Parkinson, Y Pants, Live Skull, Shelley Hirsch, Lenny Pickett, Paul Dresher, Gregory Whitehead, and dozens of other artists whose work helped define one of the most fertile creative communities of the era. For Earth Libraries, restoring Tellus represents a continuation of the label's commitment to preserving overlooked musical histories. Working from the original cassette masters, every recording on TELLUS: The Audio Cassette Magazine Anthology Vol. 1 has been carefully restored and newly mast
Forty years of cassette releases, pressed for the first time on vinyl
First of two instalments exploring the previously unreleased sonic archives of one of Poland’s most enigmatic
living artists - with its first volume focused on his deep listening practice and spiritual reverie (recorded 1990–2013)
The last time Andrzej Dudek-Dürer took a banknote bearing the face of the Polish anarchist Jarosław Dąbrowski from his pocket to trade it for a pair of shoes was in 1969. He bought them for 120zł - the equivalent of 100€ today - and never replaced them since then. Only rebuilt them, year after year, drawing a needle and thread through the leather each time it split, closing one wound before the next one opened. It became a ritual of precision, stitching a record of another year into their soles.
That same year, in Wrocław, he arrived at a conclusion that would recalibrate everything that followed. Convinced he was the reincarnation of Albrecht Dürer, he adopted the surname Dudek-Dürer, stopped cutting his hair and began wearing the same garments every day. It was the first ritual of many, though he wouldn't have called it that yet. Look closely enough, over the decades, and it is always the same gesture, returning in different material: hair growing in a single unbroken strand, a needle drawing thread through leather, sitar strings pulled taut across a neck he built with his own hands and magnetic tape spooling forward inside the cassette boxes stacked against his walls.
None of this began in a vacuum. Dudek-Dürer emerged from the Wrocław neo-avant-garde, in a Polish art world where an exhibition could be cancelled overnight by the stroke of a censor's pen. In 1973, his exhibition Auto-crucifixion was shut down by the state, and for a time he found himself blocked from exhibiting his own art at all - the one force in his life that ever came close to cutting the thread.
He seemed to experience it differently. In 1974, after long, patient research into sitar craftsmanship, he built his first prototype with his brother, a knowledgeable luthier. In 1978, in a smoked-out jazz club, he took his first steps into sound recording with the unreleased album Jazz From Underground with his first band. By 1979, recognition started to travel further than he could.
Turning toward Far-Eastern philosophy, meditation and the idea of reincarnation was another language of freedom for him. It was a way of claiming an inner territory the state could not reach, a border it could not close. Mail Art served a parallel function, reaching further out: in a country that restricted travel and expression, sending and receiving art through the postal system became an act of quiet rebellion.
The body, in his understanding, is only an envelope readied for constant transformation. From this came Metaphysical Telepathy: during the years he could not leave Poland, he treated that confinement as a rehearsal room, sending his mind out ahead on the same thread his body would later follow. Living Sculpture grew from the same root with performances of stillness beside static art objects, until the boundary between the object and the man beside it simply dissolved. Camera Meditation extended the same instinct into photography: a shutter click flattening three dimensions into two so that a single instant could be held forever. Inspired by the pioneers of self-portrait photography like Robert Cornelius, he used it to document time itself, and kept explaining to me: "You know. This is not about vanity. This is about observing time passing.”
The isolation did not end suddenly. It ended the way his own philosophy had already predicted it would, from the inside first. Mail Art quietly solved the problem politics couldn't. Correspondence built during years of confinement slowly worked its way through doors the state itself had kept locked. Contacts made through folded paper and stamps became invitations. Ultimately, invitations became passports.
In 1983 he made his first trip outside Poland, to Germany, in search of the audio technology he couldn’t get his hands on before. In 1985, he was invited by the Indian embassy in Poland to give a sitar concert on an instrument he had spent a decade patiently stringing together - half sitar, half tanpura, built from patience and determination. After the collapse of the People's Republic of Poland, the travels kept unspooling: South Korea, then Mexico, then Australia, Canada, New Zealand, Singapore, Japan and the United States - each stop leaving behind its own small knot of tape, tied off and carried home.
In the decades since, recognition arrived at the same unhurried pace: he conducted workshops at UC Berkeley, served as vice-president for artistic affairs of the Union of Polish Art Photographers and the Union of Polish Visual Artists between 2010 and 2014 and received the Bronze Medal for Merit to Culture - Gloria Artis. His visual work gradually entered collections including the National Museums of Warsaw, the Stedelijk Museum, Tate Modern, MoMA and the Venice Biennale. His musical practice, by contrast, never found that kind of room - left to circulate quietly, sharing his cassette tapes directly, waiting for someone willing to follow it further.
It took months before I could find a way to reach Andrzej Dudek-Dürer - his presence online is very close to nonexistent. Surprisingly, LinkedIn turned out to be the only door still open, a faintly absurd irony given everything else about him. I packed the strict minimum for a three-day trip and an empty notebook and made my way to Wrocław. His headquarters sits in the neighbourhood of Grabyszyn: a two-storey pre-war house that has belonged to his family for generations. The man who opened the door was long-haired, long-bearded, in his trademark leather shoes and patched jeans. We sat in his living room, in front of a computer where decades of recordings sat organised in cryptically named files, surrounded by books and objects that had arrived one layer at a time, leaving room for only two chairs in the middle. His shoes sat by the door, rebuilt so many times they had become their own quiet sculpture. Cassette tapes filled boxes against the walls, almost unlabelled, each one a spool of thread holding decades of sound that had never once been asked for, until now.
I listened for hours: meditating in front of strangers on the porch of a Seoul temple until the tourists stopped taking photos and simply waited with him; a stand-off with border guards at the US–Mexico crossing over an instrument they couldn't identify and didn't trust; a session with the Stockhausen family that he still, decades later, describes like it happened last week. All of it interrupted, occasionally, by the smell of soup boiling and fresh bread warming on the ceramic stove. After two days, it felt like being handed the end of a very long thread and asked, gently, to keep following it. I left with a USB drive holding his full discography, signed with his unmistakable signature.
Astral Meditations From A Living Statue is a length of that thread, drawn out from the boxes stacked against his walls - recordings gathered from different rooms, different countries, different decades. This first record breathes slowly: incense-thick, meditative, built for stillness. A cutting-edge séance in outer space where machines learn how to dream.
It begins with the neo-classical improvisations of Andrzej, space-delayed, recorded at Klub Muzyki i Literatury in Wrocław in 2002. 'When..So' opens the curtains with a deep-rooted meditation accompanied by slow-decaying piano figures illuminated by a candle-lit spirit gathering.
Los Angeles, 1990: a dormant villa, a grand piano, the voice of Bonnie Barnett. 'Exception' is captured in a single room, in a single afternoon - voice and keys circling each other, neither one leading, until the silence between the notes starts to feel like the instrument.
'The Meta...' and 'Tired Of...', recorded at Studio Morandi in Ponte Nossa, Italy, in 1992, settle into a sitar drone built entirely from patience - overtones stacking and beating against each other, strung by a man who never once set foot in India. 'Mastery Of...' follows, recorded the same year at Studio Suski in Łomianki, pushing that same hum further still, until pitch dissolves into a spectral reverie. 'Transcendental Sound', from 2000, closes the first record in a slow bath of celestial frequency - better heard beside the shores of the Odra river.
More than fifty years after deciding that a life could become an artwork, Andrzej Dudek-Dürer continues to inhabit that decision. His shoes keep wearing thin against the earth's crust. His hair keeps growing, one strand at a time. His cassette tapes keep spooling in the dark of their boxes.
Now the thread finds its last shape: a single unbroken groove, spiralling inward from the outer edge to the label at the centre. Never cut - the way nothing else in his life ever was. Drop the needle and it will find that groove and follow it, the same way a needle once followed leather, once followed a border it couldn't cross, once followed string into an instrument that didn't exist until he built it. This record is the other end of a thread that has been travelling for fifty years. For the length of both sides, it rests here, in your hands. This is a timeless proof that the Lord of the New Age was never lost."
Minutiae is the first full-length release form Stockholm’s Ināra Quartet, made up of brothers Kasper (guitar, banjo, mandolin) and Mauritz Agnas (bass, cello), Johan Graden (piano, harmonium, synths) and Mischa Grind (percussion). Drawing on wide performance and composition experience in free improvisation, jazz, and composed new music, the quartet have carved out a unique niche where radical approaches to rhythmic organisation and group interaction are wedded to immediately accessible, folkish melodic and harmonic material. Unfolding briskly across eight pop-song length tracks, Minutiae places these folk fragments under a microscope, expanding them into intricate patterns of group interplay by turns austere and lushly psychedelic.
The quartet’s layering of independent rhythms, pulses, and tempi suggests a range of precedents, from Ligeti’s ticking clock textures to the pulse music of John McGuire, the repeating asynchronous cycles of The Necks, and the intricate irregular crosshatching of Banda music. Rhythm, harmony and melody shade into one another within each of the instrumental layers that overlap to form the music’s rippling surface. At points guitar, bass, percussion, and keyboards can seem each to occupy their own world, each player moving independently according to their own internal tactus, but attention to the details of group interplay reveals carefully planned collective movement. On ‘Klapparen’, strummed acoustic guitar chords and clinking percussion accelerate and decelerate in unison, washed over by floating synth lines. At other points, the quartet as a whole suddenly shift direction like a This Heat tape edit. Check the opener ‘Box Pieces’, where a brief percussion tag cues an unexpected cut from frenetic layering of percussive attacks undergirded by slow moving synth and bass foundations to a rumbling, locked-in dirge.
The eight pieces span a range of tones, from plaintive abstraction to surging minimalism. Touches of whimsy relieve any threat of over-seriousness: witness the wacky electric guitar glissandi that open ‘Tilting’ or the lovely, almost Pascal Comelade-esque fairground wobbles that begin the wayward journey of ‘Cadence: not even,’ before it stumbles into a totally different zone of spacious Paul Bley balladry sprinkled with banjo plucks. Recorded across two days at Stockholm’s Atlantis studios, Minutiae’s minutiae truly sparkle thanks to the careful mixing work of Ghosted drummer extraordinaire Andreas Werliin. A wonderfully approachable document of the richness of the next generation of contemporary creative musicians from Sweden, Ināra Quartet’s debut also looks back to 70s touchstones like Archimedes Badkar in its joyful embrace of musical collectivity.
California’s beloved Brainstory returns with a new EP celebrating the end of an era. Shoebox Days is an homage to the time spent and the recordings made at their now defunct Long Beach studio, aptly named Shoebox. As the name suggests, the space was tiny and stuffed with gear. While charming, it was riddled with constraints. But, as has been proven time and time again, great art often comes from difficult circumstances, and this new 7 song EP is further proof. The first track, “The Watchers,” opens with an earworm horn melody that immediately pulls you in. The crunchy drums and G Funk bass tones put a bop on it, lush orchestration weaves in and out and sets a mellow vibe. “Blend,” one of only two vocal tracks on the EP, is a California sunshine soaked love song walking the lines of psych rock ballad and B side soul. ”Twin Kitchen” leans you right back into your seat, with Eric Hagstrom’s in-the-pocket drumming carrying the tune.
“Home Alone” is singer Kevin Martin’s ever so relatable tribute to time by himself, time by today’s standards as “disconnected,” but in reality, much more connected… The fellas let some of the jazz background take front stage on “Lone Traveler,” starting out with an air tight groove, and letting loose over it as the track progresses. “Gravity Hill” named after the famed California oddity begins the ending of the EP as Brainstory takes it deep and brings us with them. “Necessary Loss” serves as the closer to this gorgeous journey.
California’s beloved Brainstory returns with a new EP celebrating the end of an era. Shoebox Days is an homage to the time spent and the recordings made at their now defunct Long Beach studio, aptly named Shoebox. As the name suggests, the space was tiny and stuffed with gear. While charming, it was riddled with constraints. But, as has been proven time and time again, great art often comes from difficult circumstances, and this new 7 song EP is further proof. The first track, “The Watchers,” opens with an earworm horn melody that immediately pulls you in.
The crunchy drums and G Funk bass tones put a bop on it, lush orchestration weaves in and out and sets a mellow vibe. “Blend,” one of only two vocal tracks on the EP, is a California sunshine soaked love song walking the lines of psych rock ballad and B side soul. ”Twin Kitchen” leans you right back into your seat, with Eric Hagstrom’s in-the-pocket drumming carrying the tune. “Home Alone” is singer Kevin Martin’s ever so relatable tribute to time by himself, time by today’s standards as “disconnected,” but in reality, much more connected… The fellas let some of the jazz background take front stage on “Lone Traveler,” starting out with an air tight groove, and letting loose over it as the track progresses. “Gravity Hill” named after the famed California oddity begins the ending of the EP as Brainstory takes it deep and brings us with them. “Necessary Loss” serves as the closer to this gorgeous journey.
Die in Kalifornien beliebte Band Brainstory kehrt mit einer neuen EP zurück, die das Ende einer Ära feiert. ,Shoebox Days" ist eine Hommage an die Zeit und die Aufnahmen, die in ihrem inzwischen geschlossenen Studio in Long Beach entstanden sind, das treffend den Namen ,Shoebox" trug. Wie der Name schon andeutet, war der Raum winzig und mit Equipment vollgestopft. Das hatte zwar seinen Reiz, war jedoch mit zahlreichen Einschränkungen verbunden. Doch wie sich immer wieder gezeigt hat, entsteht großartige Kunst oft aus schwierigen Umständen, und diese neue EP mit sieben Titeln ist ein weiterer Beweis dafür. Der . Titel, ,The Watchers", beginnt mit einer eingängigen Bläsermelodie , die einen sofort in ihren Bann zieht. Die knackigen Drums und die G-Funk-Basstöne sorgen für Schwung, während sich üppige Orchestrierungen hin und her schlängeln und eine sanfte Atmosphäre schaffen. ,Blend", einer von nur zwei Gesangstiteln auf der EP, ist ein von kalifornischer Sonne durchtränktes Liebeslied , das die Grenze zwischen Psych-Rock-Ballade und B-Seite-Soul beschreitet. ,Twin Kitchen" drückt einen regelrecht in den Sitz zurück, wobei Eric Hagstroms präzises Schlagzeugspiel den Song trägt. ,Home Alone" ist Sänger Kevin Martins überaus nachvollziehbare Hommage an die Zeit, die er allein verbringt - Zeit, die nach heutigen Maßstäben als ,abgekoppelt" gilt, in Wirklichkeit aber viel verbundener ist _ Die Jungs lassen bei ,Lone Traveler" einen Teil ihres Jazz-Hintergrunds in den Vordergrund treten, beginnen mit einem wasserdichten Groove und lassen sich im Verlauf des Stücks darüber hinweg gehen. ,Gravity Hill", benannt nach der berühmten kalifornischen Kuriosität, leitet den Ausklang der EP ein, während Brainstory tief in die Materie eintaucht und uns mitnimmt. ,Necessary Loss" bildet den Abschluss dieser herrlichen Reise.
Originally created in 1987 as an image album for a luxury Sanyo air-conditioner, Get at the Wave stands as one of the most surprising and enduring works of Japanese ambient music. Recorded using synthesizers and natural field recordings, the album was designed to transport listeners far from the heat and noise of urban life — into open water, gentle wind, and unhurried space. Takashi Kokubo's mastery as an acoustic environment designer is present in every texture, blending electronic composition with an almost physical sense of atmosphere and place. Intimate, expansive, and quietly radical, Get at the Wave is an essential document of kankyō ongaku - and one that sounds more necessary than ever. The remaster and artwork of this vinyl edition were made by the artist. Takashi Kokubo (born 1956) is one of Japan's most influential ambient composers and acoustic environment designers. A pioneer of kankyō ongaku since the mid-1980s, his sound design work has reached virtually every corner of Japanese daily life - from the national mobile phone earthquake alert to the sign tone for iD e-money and the melody call tone for NTT DoCoMo. In 2020, he was included in the Grammy-nominated compilation Kankyo Ongaku (Best Historical Album), cementing his place as a foundational figure in environmental music worldwide.
Dutch-born and Singapore-based, Mike Risk has spent more than three decades immersed in house music. As a DJ, producer, promoter and agent, he has experienced the culture from multiple angles, building relationships and sharing dancefloors across Amsterdam, London, Ibiza, New York, Chicago, Singapore and beyond.
Now Is Forever is a full-circle moment. A statement. A celebration of a lifelong relationship with house music.
Mike first made his mark in the Dutch underground through Club Risk and later RiskSoundSystem, two platforms that helped shape nightlife culture in the Netherlands throughout the 1990s and 2000s. After decades spent championing the music of others, Now Is Forever is Mike adding his own chapter to the culture that shaped his life.
Created with longtime collaborator Greg van Bueren (Hardsoul) between Amsterdam and Singapore, the album is a deeply personal tribute to the music, people and places that shaped him. From the clubs of Amsterdam and London to the sounds of Chicago, New York and Detroit, it distils decades of dancefloors, record stores, studios and late-night conversations into one body of work.
From deep and soulful grooves to raw house cuts and acid-tinged late-night moments, Now Is Forever explores house music in its full spectrum. It reflects the way Mike has always approached a dancefloor as a DJ: not as a collection of tracks, but as a journey through the many moods and moments that make a greatnight unforgettable.
Featuring Mike Dunn, Bluey Robinson, Marc Evans and John Agesilas, the album brings together years of experience, inspiration and dedication. Crafted not out of commercial pressure but out of creative necessity, it is the product of pure love-for the culture, for the craft, for the music.
Now Is Forever is a past-forward record: rooted in the music, dancefloors and relationships that shaped Mike, while carrying their spirit firmly into the present. At its heart, it is about honouring the kid who first fell in love with house music-and never let go.
Because when you are truly lost in music, there is no past and no future. There is only now.
Where other bands seem to be hellbent on pushing an energy of exhilaration, London’s premiere grief peddler’s SECRECY seem to be more interested in reminding us all what deep shit we are in. Their debut recorded outing captures the morbid and grandiose power of their successful string of London shows, refining the message to a promising and bewildering first release. Taking compositional cues from THE EXECUTE, SOUTHERN DEATH CULT, and THE CHAMELEONS, the room filling instrumentals carry a bleak and punishing prophecy of moral turmoil and hysteria, opting to drive the notion of post punk off a cliff through force of will alone. The sound is crisp and wide without giving up the austerity necessary to carry the prophetic sense of dire urgency in the vocals, driving and marching drums and bass lines carrying almost danceable guitar parts to climax. Soaring guitars over driving drums push the corpus to blistering movement, restrained by lyrics about fucking and dying, an Eros/Thanatos act delivered with a refreshing lack of irony or sarcasm. Lyrical influences from RIMBAUD and BAUDELAIRE abound, veering from the brink of poetry back down to primitive taunts and cries.
Rebolledo is back. And this time, he's bringing his own label: Rated R. What began as a party series — with chapters like Rated R and Wax Upon A Time — now mutates into a record label. Long overdue, if you ask us. Surrounded by talented friends from all corners of the globe, this is the new home for bringing everything back into focus. And yes, on wax too.
Naturally. For the first release, we're kicking things off with something equally overdue: Rub N Tug are back. The track? A certified underground wanderer. Loved, played, and passed around dance floors worldwide for well over a decade, yet somehow never properly released. Or maybe it was. Sort of. It's complicated. Now it returns with a remix of a remix, giving the whole thing a fresh coat of cosmic polish. As if that wasn't enough, Paulor takes things one step further with a particularly special jam of his own. Which means we're now dealing with a remix of a remix of a remix.
Confusing? Maybe.
Necessary? Absolutely.
Makes perfect sense to us.
The record stems from a deep-seated urge to craft something entirely personal; the vocal is CARISTA's own, a result of a discarded Ableton sample that lacked the necessary soul. By recording it herself, she captures a raw, magnetic intimacy. This process, taking standard materials and transmuting them into something deeply individual, mirrors the very alchemy found on the most transcendent dance floors. Whether you find yourself in a sea of strangers or flanked by your closest kin, there is a singular moment where every element aligns. It is a feeling of stepping past your own physical limits to truly experience the best of times.
Double LP, pressed on gold vinyl. As part of Lineage II's 22nd anniversary celebration, NC America and Black Screen Records are proud to announce the first-ever Lineage II collector's edition vinyl album, which elegantly combines a track selection reflecting the game's iconic history and memorable musical identity. This vinyl album is now available for pre-order and will hit the stores in November. Arranged by composers Bill Brown (Tom Clancy's Rainbow Six), Jamie Christopherson (Metal Gear Rising: Revengeance), Inon Zur (Fallout 4), and NCSOUND, the track list is a collection of 40 of the most recognized pieces from the original soundtrack, carefully selected to create a cohesive listening experience rather than a complete collection. Published by NC, the album flows between calm, reflective village themes, atmospheric exploration pieces, and more intense, dramatic compositions tied to combat, progression and large-scale conflict. The track list draws from the original soundtrack's most recognized pieces and centers on two major regions: Giran and Aden. Early on their journey, players venture into the world's southern territory of Giran. As they explore the region's villages, tracks such as "Crossroad at Dawn," "Shepard's Flute" and "Caravans Crossing" help create a calm, grounded atmosphere that reflects the peaceful nature of travel through the area. In contrast, the world's northern territory of Aden reflects the game's grander, more conflict driven spirit. As players continue their journey, the Elven Village track "Unicorn's Rest" marks a turning point, gradually giving way to darker settlements and imposing castles through standout tracks such as "Knighting Ceremony" from the iconic Aden Castle and "Expedition March" from the Town of Oren, where tension, warfare and large scale conflict take center stage. Across both regions, the tracks are more than background music; they shape how players experience each location, from villages and hunting zones to moments of intense combat. This collection brings together the sounds that have defined Lineage II for the past 22 years, offering a reflective musical journey for both longtime players and new listeners alike.
What's Left is the new album by Tom Henry, releasing November 20th, 2026 on Royal Oakie Records. Where his debut album Songs to Sing and Dance To leaned into big dreams, What's Left is a record about what remains once the dust settles, delivered with the wit and charm of a young rocker in his prime. The familiar influences are still there — Paul McCartney and Big Star loom large (though there's a little more Third/Sister Lovers this time around), but now the songs are lush and polished, with new sounds creeping in around Henry’s trademark power pop hooks. On a handful of tracks you can even hear strains of Syd Barrett influenced acid-folk alongside psychedelic rock that recalls The Brian Jonestown Massacre or The Beatles at their most lysergic.
Produced in collaboration with David Glasebrook (Patti Smith, Peter Case, Sugar Candy Mountain), and engineered by Glasebrook and Stephen Shirk, the album was tracked across two cities at Shirk Studios in Chicago, IL and The Garden Shed in Oakland, CA, where Glasebrook also handled mixing and mastering. The record's cross-continental origins reflect the movements of Tom’s own life over the past half decade, which found him departing his native Chicago for Los Angeles before returning home four years later, and lend the album its distinctive sound of Midwestern grit mixed with California sunshine across all twelve tracks.
Opener "Someone I Need" sets the tone: an old-fashioned, up-beat rocker built for a roadside diner jukebox somewhere out along the backroads of your mind — it's crunchy tape tones and horn arrangement lending warmth to the song as the narrator asks for a dance and beckons the listener along for the ride. By "It's Not Meant to Be," the record turns inward, wrestling with the exhaustion of trying to find love in the modern age — especially for someone who wears their heart on their sleeve and often comes to find their suitor's wardrobe doesn't have room. "Silverlake Song," reminiscent of early Donovan, kicks off with otherworldly sitar — a wry postcard from the west, tracing how the shimmering promise of L.A.'s Silver Lake enchants, bargains with, and ultimately tries to ruin the starry-eyed dreamer — and very nearly succeeds.
In addition to Tom–who sang and played guitar, bass, and keys–the album features musical contributions from co-producer David Glasebrook, Brian Daley, Joe Daley, Finn Swingley, Lewis Patzner, and labelmates Graham Patzner, Charles Lloyd, and Simon Beins. Liner notes come courtesy of Ian F. Svenonius, who — in the guise of one Johnny Sincere of Integrated Star Management Ltd. — recounts his company's failed attempt to sell Tom Henry a gimmick: a space suit, a coal miner's neckerchief, a lounge pianist's dead-eyed shades. Tom turned them all down. As Svenonius tells it, when reminded that every story's been told and every gimmick's been used, that all that's left is to admire the photographs of what's gone before, Tom simply shrugged: rock 'n' roll is an eternal spring, and if this is what's left, that's just fine with him — it's what he likes to do.
Half a century after its original release, legendary Lebanese musician and singer Marcel Khalife—renowned oud player and global icon of both music and activism—returns with a new recording. On this album, he reinterprets four of the five tracks from his debut, Promises of the Storm. A bold defiance of time and history.
Why revisit the same album, 50 years later? The reasons are many, but one stands above the rest: history itself seems to be repeating. The narrative unfolds once more in the same dire circumstances as half a century ago, as if time has folded in on itself, returning everything to its starting point. The urgency, the necessity—it all remains, pressing and inescapable. We must begin again.
In 1976, a young Marcel Khalife found himself exiled in Paris, fleeing the Lebanese Civil War and his family’s Christian village, where his progressive, left-wing ideas had placed him under a kind of house arrest. He was one of the few to openly and unwaveringly champion the Palestinian cause. The situation quickly became untenable, especially since, just a month before the war began in March 1975, Khalife—fresh out of the conservatory—had given his first public concert to great acclaim. Then, everything collapsed. What does one do when trapped at home? Read books, play the oud, and turn those readings into songs. In his family’s de facto prison, Khalife began setting the poetry of the great Palestinian poet Mahmoud Darwish to music. These songs, born of confinement, he carried with him into exile, driving to Paris where a producer offered him the chance to record an album. Naturally, the tracks were the ones he had been improvising at home from Darwish’s poems. The album’s title, Promises of the Storm, echoed the war that was just beginning. Khalife recalls that the album became a hit after a concert at the Fête de l’Huma, where 500 copies were sold in a single day. “Everything started there, and it never stopped,” he remembers. He would meet Mahmoud Darwish shortly after, at a dinner organized by mutual friends. From that moment, a deep friendship blossomed between the two men.
With Darwish’s words and Khalife’s music, the songs of Promises of the Storm are imbued with a powerful evocative force—melancholy, tenderness, and poetic resistance in the face of violence. The album catapulted Khalife to international stardom, leading to endless tours and recordings, yet he never abandoned his commitments.
Now, 50 years later, Promises of the Storm returns in a fresh recording, because history is repeating itself. After the Israeli bombings in Lebanon at the end of 2024, Khalife, who was on tour, found himself stranded in Paris. He remembered a recurring request from his son, musician Bachar Mar-Khalife, who had often urged him to re-record his now-classic debut album. One morning, oud in hand, Marcel knocked on his son’s door and said, “Shall we? I’m ready to record.”
These new versions are stripped down, raw, and intimate—just the solitary strings of the oud. Khalife sings as never before, his voice no longer marked by the fragility of youth but imbued with something deeper, freer, unshackled. It soars high yet resonates low, always clear, as if to escape sadness, to evoke love and violence, desire and exile. In just four songs, Khalife encapsulates a lifetime, and a philosophy of life. Rita tells of a love of Darwish’s, with the haunting line (translated from Arabic): “Between Rita’s eyes and mine, a rifle.” Oummi invokes the figure of the mother as a metaphor for the lost land. Promises of the Storm is a meditation on revolution, the hope for change, the melancholy of defeat, and the power of thought. Passport captures, through poetry, the feeling of being stateless—a citizen of everywhere and nowhere.
Time has only strengthened these texts and this music. History never repeats itself without a valid, indispensable reason for the present. That reason is fully contained in Marcel Khalife’s new interpretations, which have never sounded so clear, so right, so essential.
What is an edit? A correction, a confession, a DJ tool, a mild act of vandalism—or simply the result of listening to somebody else’s record and thinking: very good, but what if this bit went on a little longer?
For his contribution to the Running Back Mastermix series, Gilles Aiken aka Edward opens a folder that has apparently been filling up for quite some time.
The Giegling resident’s thirteen edits reach back through years of DJing, collecting and producing. Made for sets rather than release schedules, they form something like a musical autobiography told through other people’s records: Carl Craig, Roman Flügel, Motohiko Hamase, Kirk Degiorgio, Aubrey, Sven Väth, Michael Rother and more.
From Japanese ambient jazz and Detroit techno to dub techno, house, trance and kosmische music, these are not attempts to improve records that didn’t need improving. They are the small interventions that happen after living with music for a long time: a rhythm exposed, an entrance moved, a passage extended, the unnecessary made necessary.
“These records mean a lot to me,” says Edward. “They consist of edits I’ve gathered over the years, some of them going way back. In a way, they reflect my musical journey. All of these artists have been a huge influence on me as a producer and DJ.”
Usually, such edits remain on hard drives, USB sticks and in vaguely labelled folders. This time permissions were requested, publishers located and, somewhere, presumably, a spreadsheet became very important.
Miraculously, everybody said yes.
Thirteen thank-you notes to the music that helped make Edward Edward. Naturally, they require three records.
Mastermixed accordingly.
Also available on cassette,
What is an edit? A correction, a confession, a DJ tool, a mild act of vandalism—or simply the result of listening to somebody else’s record and thinking: very good, but what if this bit went on a little longer?
For his contribution to the Running Back Mastermix series, Gilles Aiken aka Edward opens a folder that has apparently been filling up for quite some time.
The Giegling resident’s thirteen edits reach back through years of DJing, collecting and producing. Made for sets rather than release schedules, they form something like a musical autobiography told through other people’s records: Carl Craig, Roman Flügel, Motohiko Hamase, Kirk Degiorgio, Aubrey, Sven Väth, Michael Rother and more.
From Japanese ambient jazz and Detroit techno to dub techno, house, trance and kosmische music, these are not attempts to improve records that didn’t need improving. They are the small interventions that happen after living with music for a long time: a rhythm exposed, an entrance moved, a passage extended, the unnecessary made necessary.
“These records mean a lot to me,” says Edward. “They consist of edits I’ve gathered over the years, some of them going way back. In a way, they reflect my musical journey. All of these artists have been a huge influence on me as a producer and DJ.”
Usually, such edits remain on hard drives, USB sticks and in vaguely labelled folders. This time permissions were requested, publishers located and, somewhere, presumably, a spreadsheet became very important.
Miraculously, everybody said yes.
Thirteen thank-you notes to the music that helped make Edward Edward. Naturally, they require three records.
Mastermixed accordingly.
Also available on cassette,
Following his recent appearance on Blueprint, Mark Broom returns to the label with a unique project, revisiting the work of techno pioneer Regis. Entitled "Power Is Neutral", the release sees Broom rework a selection of seminal Regis recordings originally released on Downwards Records across the albums Gymnastics (1996), Delivered Into The Hands Of Indifference (1998) and Penetration (2001).
Known as one of the key architects of the Birmingham techno sound, Regis (Karl O'Connor) helped shape British techno through his work as co-founder of Downwards Records and a catalogue that continues to influence generations of artists.
For Mark Broom, few artists embody British rave culture quite like Regis. Drawing on source material that has long stood as a cornerstone of UK techno, Broom approaches these edits with both respect and imagination. As Regis puts it, "Mark Broom is like some modern day Bagpuss... he has fired up his techno mouseorgan and polished old relics to make them all shiny and new."
Power Is Neutral delivers six expertly crafted reinterpretations that bridge the raw energy of Regis' original works with Broom's unmistakable contemporary dancefloor sensibility, bringing these timeless tracks to a new generation of listeners.
