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Side A Produced and Mixed by Aware Project at DevoRevo Studio - Predappio Italy mastered by Stefano Cappelli at Creative Mastering Studio - FC Italy. Thanks to Emi&Sofia. Side AA Written and Mixed by MBG @ Bunker Studio. Produced by Gio MBG Canepa for MBG International Records.

‘An Undying Love For A Burning World follows Converge’s Love Is Not Enough this year as a pivotal metal album about acknowledging the darkness for what it is and trying to accept it.’ - the QUIETUS

‘Neurosis Know You’re Hurting. Their Stunning New Album Is a Life Preserver.
An Undying Love for a Burning World, the band’s first album with new member Aaron Turner, is a reminder of how even the darkest music can be a guiding light’ - 9/10 ROLLING STONE

Evolution can be ugly and beautiful, painful and euphoric. An Undying Love For A Burning World is the first new release from Neurosis in a decade, and a potent statement of intent and rebirth - one that marks the first new steps of resolve and resilience.

An Undying Love For A Burning World is an epic album of colossal hypnotism - beautiful, fearsome and utterly compelling in a way that only Neurosis can be. Aaron Turner (Sumac, Isis) joins the band on vocals and guitar, a name whose legacy is intertwined with the band’s own and a true kindred spirit.

“From the moment I first heard Neurosis over 30 years ago, I felt this was the music my heart and mind had been seeking but not yet heard. Now after many years travelling along various musical paths of my own, the singular sound and spirit embodied by Neurosis continues to speak to the depths of my being. It is an honor and a true pleasure to have been welcomed so warmly into a band that not only shaped my perspective on the limitless possibilities of music - but has lived and exemplified the necessity of upholding creative integrity and camaraderie above all else.” - AARON TURNER

Neurosis have never been afraid of change, and here they embrace endless regeneration, surrendering to the emotional exorcism through heaviness and distortion that their music incites. Just as the universe tends towards balance, Neurosis’cacophony of noise, rhythm and dissonance always resolves towards moments of beauty. The addition of Turner's powerful vocals and wildly creative and unhinged approach to guitar proves to be a vital force as Neurosis find themselves again at the mercy of evolution and expression.

On every song in the band’s history, Neurosis shifts restlessly between tension and relief, invoking a feeling both feral and transcendent in listeners. The band describe their songwriting process as an inescapable impulse to create with each other - a need rather than a choice. Indeed, the band insist that their return is “not a reunion - we never broke up.”

The album was recorded by Scott Evans (Kowloon Walled City, Sumac, and Great Falls) at Studio Litho in Seattle during three weekends this winter, and mixed in three days just six weeks before release at Evan's Antisleep Audio in Oakland.

Neurosis will play their first show in seven years on the traditional lands of the Blackfeet Nation in Montana as part of Fire in the Mountains festival by special invitation of Firekeeper Alliance, a non-profit dedicated to reducing youth suicide in Indian Country.

FITM, is a unique festival known for bringing epic music to epic landscapes with the intent of reconnecting and immersing oneself with the natural world, and strengthening our ancestral roots as human beings - an aim which aligns directly with Neurosis’ deep-rooted power.

Stay tuned for further news over the coming months.

PREVIOUS PRESS:

‘In less skilful hands, this relentless sonic oppression would be gruelling, but by expressing human frailty with such visceral abandon, Neurosis have once again turned darkness into euphoria.’ - 4/5 THE GUARDIAN

‘The Oakland band has evolved from gritty metallic punk to harrowing post-hardcore prog to the majestic doom of their current phase’ - 7.9 PITCHFORK

‘It’s not often an album of such stature exceeds one’s anticipations, but Honor is too astounding to not be revered.’ - The QUIETUS

“Fires Within Fires is the summation of thirty years of experimentation in tonality and texture. Yes, NEUROSIS are firmly positioned within the extreme metal underground yet their music, with its ability to generate images of beauty akin to those many of us have experienced in our own lives – not to mention the loss that accompanies them – challenges this categorization. ‘’ - WIRE MAGAZINE - FULL PAGE REVIEW.

"Their intensity remains undimmed on Fires Within Fires...The already converted will take heart from the evidence that age is unable to wither the fury of this heaviest of bands." - KERRANG! 4K REVIEW

"Every monstrous sludge riff gnashes menacingly for the right amount of time and every delicate moment of folk-inspired drift is emotionally exacting. Neurosis continue to create art without equal, and Fires Within Fires is another worthy addition to an awe-inspiring canon containing a number of truly pioneering and timeless albums." - METAL HAMMER - 8/10 LEAD REVIEW

‘An Undying Love For A Burning World follows Converge’s Love Is Not Enough this year as a pivotal metal album about acknowledging the darkness for what it is and trying to accept it.’ - the QUIETUS

‘Neurosis Know You’re Hurting. Their Stunning New Album Is a Life Preserver.
An Undying Love for a Burning World, the band’s first album with new member Aaron Turner, is a reminder of how even the darkest music can be a guiding light’ - 9/10 ROLLING STONE

Evolution can be ugly and beautiful, painful and euphoric. An Undying Love For A Burning World is the first new release from Neurosis in a decade, and a potent statement of intent and rebirth - one that marks the first new steps of resolve and resilience.

An Undying Love For A Burning World is an epic album of colossal hypnotism - beautiful, fearsome and utterly compelling in a way that only Neurosis can be. Aaron Turner (Sumac, Isis) joins the band on vocals and guitar, a name whose legacy is intertwined with the band’s own and a true kindred spirit.

“From the moment I first heard Neurosis over 30 years ago, I felt this was the music my heart and mind had been seeking but not yet heard. Now after many years travelling along various musical paths of my own, the singular sound and spirit embodied by Neurosis continues to speak to the depths of my being. It is an honor and a true pleasure to have been welcomed so warmly into a band that not only shaped my perspective on the limitless possibilities of music - but has lived and exemplified the necessity of upholding creative integrity and camaraderie above all else.” - AARON TURNER

Neurosis have never been afraid of change, and here they embrace endless regeneration, surrendering to the emotional exorcism through heaviness and distortion that their music incites. Just as the universe tends towards balance, Neurosis’cacophony of noise, rhythm and dissonance always resolves towards moments of beauty. The addition of Turner's powerful vocals and wildly creative and unhinged approach to guitar proves to be a vital force as Neurosis find themselves again at the mercy of evolution and expression.

On every song in the band’s history, Neurosis shifts restlessly between tension and relief, invoking a feeling both feral and transcendent in listeners. The band describe their songwriting process as an inescapable impulse to create with each other - a need rather than a choice. Indeed, the band insist that their return is “not a reunion - we never broke up.”

The album was recorded by Scott Evans (Kowloon Walled City, Sumac, and Great Falls) at Studio Litho in Seattle during three weekends this winter, and mixed in three days just six weeks before release at Evan's Antisleep Audio in Oakland.

Neurosis will play their first show in seven years on the traditional lands of the Blackfeet Nation in Montana as part of Fire in the Mountains festival by special invitation of Firekeeper Alliance, a non-profit dedicated to reducing youth suicide in Indian Country.

FITM, is a unique festival known for bringing epic music to epic landscapes with the intent of reconnecting and immersing oneself with the natural world, and strengthening our ancestral roots as human beings - an aim which aligns directly with Neurosis’ deep-rooted power.

Stay tuned for further news over the coming months.

PREVIOUS PRESS:

‘In less skilful hands, this relentless sonic oppression would be gruelling, but by expressing human frailty with such visceral abandon, Neurosis have once again turned darkness into euphoria.’ - 4/5 THE GUARDIAN

‘The Oakland band has evolved from gritty metallic punk to harrowing post-hardcore prog to the majestic doom of their current phase’ - 7.9 PITCHFORK

‘It’s not often an album of such stature exceeds one’s anticipations, but Honor is too astounding to not be revered.’ - The QUIETUS

“Fires Within Fires is the summation of thirty years of experimentation in tonality and texture. Yes, NEUROSIS are firmly positioned within the extreme metal underground yet their music, with its ability to generate images of beauty akin to those many of us have experienced in our own lives – not to mention the loss that accompanies them – challenges this categorization. ‘’ - WIRE MAGAZINE - FULL PAGE REVIEW.

"Their intensity remains undimmed on Fires Within Fires...The already converted will take heart from the evidence that age is unable to wither the fury of this heaviest of bands." - KERRANG! 4K REVIEW

"Every monstrous sludge riff gnashes menacingly for the right amount of time and every delicate moment of folk-inspired drift is emotionally exacting. Neurosis continue to create art without equal, and Fires Within Fires is another worthy addition to an awe-inspiring canon containing a number of truly pioneering and timeless albums." - METAL HAMMER - 8/10 LEAD REVIEW

Double 12" release

The Story — From the Streets of Rome to the Male Productions Label
In the early 1990s, Rome lived in a kind of suspended moment. The city was still tied to its historic clubs, yet in the outskirts—inside abandoned warehouses, quarries along the coastline, and the wooded parks north of the capital—something new was beginning to stir. A nocturnal, constantly shifting movement fuelled by a hunger for freedom and a sonic curiosity that reached far beyond the mainstream.

Moving through this ferment was Francesco “Chicco” Furlotti. First an organizer of unconventional parties and underground nights, he soon became one of the driving forces behind Rome’s itinerant rave scene. Furlotti sensed that a wave of change was about to sweep across the city. It wasn’t just about parties: it was the rise of a culture, a new way of thinking about music, community, and belonging.

It was within those nights—later held with official permits, properly built sound systems, and an ever-growing crowd—that Furlotti recognized the existence of a distinctly Roman sound, and the need to capture it, preserve it, and give it tangible form.
So, in 1991, he decided to take a bolder step: to found an independent record label—small, determined, and far removed from the commercial logic that dominated at the time.
That was the birth of Male Productions.

Male was not a label like any other: it was a workshop, a gathering point, a creative hub where DJs, producers, friends, and wanderers converged. Within that environment, an artistic core took shape—Stefano Di Carlo, Leo Young, and Mauro Tannino, along with other collaborators orbiting around Furlotti. From their synergy emerged a project whose very name declared its mission:

The True Underground Sound of Rome.

The collective did not simply aim to release music; it sought to tell a story of Rome through sounds that defied categorization: house, techno, ambient, electronic mysticism, psychedelic visions… a unique blend, instantly recognizable, emotional, and experimental. The sessions unfolded using essential yet razor-sharp gear: Roland drum machines, analogue synthesizers, Akai samplers, stripped-down mixers. Few tools, endless imagination.
The first result of this work was the 12” Secret Doctrine, released in 1991 in an extremely limited run—around 500 promotional copies, according to accounts. The record captured something that until then had floated only in the air of Roman raves: enveloping atmospheres, deep rhythms, melodies built to make the mind travel far beyond the dancefloor. A sound that did not imitate what was happening in Detroit, London, or Berlin, but absorbed those influences and re-sculpted them with a distinctly Roman sensibility.
Yet, precisely because it was independent and detached from commercial circuits, Male’s output remained sparse: few EPs, few copies, irregular distribution. Over time, those records became rare artifacts—almost mythical objects within the Italian electronic scene. The legacy of Male Productions seemed destined to survive only in the memories of those early years, in the stories told after raves, and in the private archives of a handful of collectors.
Many years later, thanks to the almost accidental rediscovery of a few original copies of the first two releases issued by Male Productions, it became possible to undertake a meticulous process of recovery and restoration of the audio etched into those grooves, with the aim of preserving as fully as possible the quality and character of that unrepeatable sound.

We are therefore able today to present — at last in a complete and faithful form — the first two mixes created for Male Productions, now released on a double vinyl that brings back into the present the exact moment when it all began: the nomadic nights of the raves, Furlotti’s vision, the creativity of Di Carlo, Young and Tannino, and the sonic identity of a Rome in the midst of transformation.

This is not merely a reissue.
It is a historical document.
A fragment of a culture that changed the city.
The authentic sound of the Roman underground, finally returned to the world.

Kassie Krut is comprised of Kasra Kurt and Eve Alpert — former members of Philadelphia math rock institution Palm — alongside Matt Anderegg (Mothers, Body Meat). On their self-titled debut EP, the newly minted Brooklyn three-piece have retained the fangled snarl of their prior work, outlining sugary melodies with visceral flourishes. Front to back, 'Kassie Krut' smudges starkness & filth, settling into a commanding partnership fit for muddy raves, basement punk spaces, and festival stages alike.

After years of twisting rock instrumentation into unknown shapes, the first release by Kassie Krut represents a transformative refocusing of energies. These tracks evince the kind of wisdom that only comes from experience—and the kind of experience that can only be scored by new sounds, still glittering with the metal filings of their making

Marvin Gaye always dreamed of being a smooth crooner, “sitting on a stool, possibly behind a piano,” delivering velvety songs like Nat King Cole. But Motown had other plans. Pushed between raw R&B and polished pop, Gaye fought to find his own voice, eventually rising to become one of the greatest soul singers in history.

Motown Records released the first Marvin Gaye record in 1961 "(I'm Afraid) The Masquerade Is Over", a single intended for (radio) promotion from the singer's debut album. This was followed up by the officially released "Let Your Conscience Be Your Guide" a week later. Gaye scored his first real hit with "Stubborn Kind of Fellow" in 1962, which he had co-written himself, joking about his alleged stubbornness. He found his own unique style with the single released at the end of the year: "Hitch Hike". The foundations were now laid for an enormous series of chart successes: "Pride And Joy", "Can I Get A Witness", "How Sweet It Is (To Be Loved By You)" and "Ain't That Peculiar" are all Motown classics from 1963-1965 which are still being regularly played today after all these years. The duets he recorded with Kim Weston ("It Takes Two"), especially Tammi Terrell and Diana Ross were certainly at least as good.

He scored his biggest ever hit with "I Heard It Through The Grapevine" in 1968. "What's Going On" from the same titled album became a number 1 hit in the USA. The album was received as a masterpiece and is regarded as one of the most important records in pop history. In 1973, the artistically and commercially very successful, "Let's Get It On" album was mainly a musical ode to Marvin's love for his new muse Janis Hunter. His journey continued after a turbulent relationship, addiction and a dramatic creative rebirth in Belgium, where he crafted the global hit “Sexual Healing in 1982.

Marvin Gaye left behind timeless hits, groundbreaking albums, and a legacy that shaped the sound of modern soul. His story, from ambition to artistry, from struggle to brilliance, remains as powerful as the music he created.

Music On Vinyl proudly presents a special coloured vinyl edition of the Marvin Gaye Collected album which is available as a limited edition of 10.000 individually numbered copies on white (LP1) and silver coloured vinyl (LP2) and includes a booklet with liner notes.

Tucked in the heart of Koreatown, Los Angeles, lies The Libra Hotel—the titular architecture of Nick Malkin's new album and site of his musical and psychogeographic exploration. Unlike most musical "site-specific" studies, Malkin remains wholly ambivalent to the documentarian approach, instead sharpening an auteur-like focus on the site as a conceptual and highly expressive backdrop. The Libra is musically explored as a space that houses a noir fragmentation of identity—the exhausted trope of a complicated protagonist walking through rain-soaked street corners and fumy neon lights—where an inner monologue is rendered in both miniature and at a cosmic scale. Casting aside stifling tropes around field recording, ambient, and improvised music, Malkin's work finds its own unique fidelity and emotional core through the assembly and reassembly of memory. Nearly every sound on the album—from frayed saxophones, lambent pianos, and dissected jazz drum kits—are multiplied, shattered, and reconstituted into shapes that adorn The Libra in a motion-blurred fog. The narrative of the Hotel suddenly appears as if out of the mist, with intersecting characters interacting within its walls by happenstance. Adminst the languid set pieces, wraith-like sonic grains gravitate around wide subbass beams that give structural form to The Libra, a narrative tension like when a scene is shot from hundreds of different perspectives: an image both luminous and veiled.

Much like Frank Sinatra's own spatial residency immortalized on "Live at The Sands," "At The Libra Hotel" showcases an exuberant view of entertainment, hospitality, and a form of masculinity, one that can quickly detourn into darkness. Knowing this, Malkin extracts a melancholic core out of The Libra locale. The flickering shadows of American decadence are shown in their ephemeral honesty, lines that trace how even in everyday life virtue is tested, sanity is tested, even reality is tested within the confines of desire, within the night. The album is draped in fleeting textures, carefully arranged with a trance-like microtonality, the faint inflections and articulations of a jazz band cascading into dissipated stillness. Voicemails about changed locations and covert eavesdropping on guests' whispered conversations provide an atmosphere of missed connection and voyeurism—a purloined letter of desire receding into a vanishing point. Like the music itself, The Hotel, a chapel perilous at the intersection of desolation row, the center of it all, yet simultaneously at the edge of town, becomes a structure between libidinous virtuality and actuality—our inevitable half-light.

Ultimately, the pensive atmosphere of "At The Libra Hotel," powerfully asserts a plea for the kinds of intimacy only possible in transient spaces. Here, memory cascades into a force that feels like something supernatural, perhaps even religious, yet always subject to the infidelity of our imagination. Here, the album opens into its primary psychodrama, the transient nature of subjectivity itself and how this becomes fractured in the tumult between our commitments and desires. Within this nocturnal space, to quote Louise Bourgeois, "you pile up associations the way you pile up bricks. Memory itself is a form of architecture."

"Carol Maia & Jeremy Gustin’s haunting collaborative album is the result of a long distance partnership during which tracks were traded back and forth across thousands of miles, Jeremy working from his home studio in Brooklyn and Carol from hers in Rio De Janeiro. Later they enlisted support from a number of key players in the Rio scene, Frederico Heliodoro, Paulo Emmery, Ricardo Dias Gomes, and from Brooklyn’s musical community, Will Graefe and Ryan Dugre, to shape this understated masterpiece of sophisticated global pop and quiet experimentalism.
"It's hard to describe what Carol, Jeremy and their guests have achieved on 'it's nice to see a lake in your eyes', a kind of pop music that stands outside of time and is neither Brazilian, American or of any other recognisable place. Maybe it's risen out of the lake they imagined into being? Maybe it's formed like rain in the thousands of miles of air between Rio and New York? Whatever happened was certainly alchemical as you will hear.
"Carol told me her writing on this record was greatly influenced by her reading of Marcelo Ariel's poetry book A água veio do sol, disse o breu so maybe the best thing to do to describe this music is to let you read one of his poems:

A luz do ser é como a água
também veio do Sol
onde todos os planetas querem entrar

Dentro do Sol
O ser é imóvel
como a gratuidade de um êxtase
parecido com a respiração

Fora do Sol
o ser é móvel
Tempo eternidade
e tempo cronológico

The light of being is like water
it also came from the Sun
where all the planets want to enter

Within the Sun
Being is immobile
like the gratuitousness of an ecstasy
similar to breathing

Outside the Sun
Being is mobile
Time eternal
and chronological time

"Jeremy Gustin is an unorthodox drummer, percussionist and songwriter who has toured and recorded with Joan as Policewoman, Iggy Pop, David Byrne, Marc Ribot, Delicate Steve, and Norah Jones. If you follow Hive Mind then you probably know him best from his amazing work on Ricardo Dias Gomes' Muito Sol. Jeremy is also in the experimental pop bands Star Rover and Blurry the Explorer.
"Carol Maia is one of Rio's new generation of singers and musicians currently lighting up the city's vibrant music scene. She also featured heavily on Wolfgang Pérez's album Só Ouço, which was released on Hive Mind in 2025."

There is a particular kind of strangeness that arrives on long drives across Europe. Flat light, service stations and fields stretching endlessly past the window. It might look mundane at first glance, but becomes faintly surreal when the tiredness of touring blurs the edges of everything.

That feeling became the quiet engine behind Driving Through Belgium, the debut solo album from Anton Pearson, best known as one of the guitarists in respected post-punk outfit Squid. The title grew from a track that felt like the record’s centrepiece, which itself came from the recurring image of extensive periods on the road across the continent. It is a record shaped in the margins of touring, and finessed in the in-between hours.

Across six pieces, Pearson leans into atmosphere, texture and space. It is ambient in spirit, adjacent to contemporary classical in feeling, but composed less with notes in mind than with sound itself. The compositions rarely began with harmony or melody, with Pearson instead responding to his environment and sounds in real time, placing trust in his instinct.

Although initial inspiration came from the road, the album was recorded in a studio he shares in Brighton, and marks his first fully solo project made in that setting. It gave him access to not only new tools and techniques, but a hitherto un-experienced freedom. Much of the process began experimentally, feeding instruments into unfamiliar chains, pitching loops into unexpected registers and playing with previously unused synthesizers simply to see what they might reveal. Many of the sounds were created out of pure curiosity, wanting to understand a piece of equipment or technology, and then following wherever it led.

The album was built with this experimentation at its core, as Pearson would layer then extract, processing stacks of sound until things blur and confuse. Guitars dissolve into drones, a Pianet Clavinet dances against muddier textures whilst a Korg PS-1000 occasionally cuts through with its glittering top end. On ‘Driving Past the Muscular Cows in Belgium’, a flat, still drone is pushed through valve amps until it growls and tightens with tension, before receding again. Even the trumpet, which Pearson freely admits he is not technically proficient at, is embraced in its naivety, its squeaks left intact rather than corrected. The twin ‘Tintinnabulation’ pieces frame the record with looping, pitched bell like tones, accidental discoveries that became structural anchors. Meanwhile, ‘Teeth to Cut the Grass’ deliberately introduces abrasion, some of the harshest textures on the record, a refusal to become passive background music.


That embrace of imperfection is central. In contrast to the hyper-analytical precision of his band, Pearson was keen to honour first takes. If something felt good, it would stay. The end result is an album that favours looseness, instinct and the energy of creation itself. If Squid thrives on propulsion and tension, Anton Pearson finds his energy in suspension on Driving Through Belgium. It is curious rather than declarative, creating a space where experimentation feels playful again.

Loud Ambient 2 picks up directly from where Loud Ambient left off. After picking the drum machines back up, we returned to the colourfield ideas that shaped the first record. Rothko remained a key reference, along- side a strong recommendation to spend time with the work of Josef Albers. We did exactly that, and it paid off.

Alongside the music, we created 50 new pieces of artwork for Loud Ambient 2. These became tools rather than decorations. Working this way felt open and rewarding, and brought a real sense of play back into the process. We already understood what a Loud Ambient track could be, so slipping back into that headspace felt natural. The tracks came together quickly, full of energy, movement and that familiar noodle quality.

The creative side landed easily this time. There is some- thing about working with colourfields that frees you up and pushes you further into abstraction. It removes hesitation and keeps the focus on instinct and response.

With the drum machines and synths loaded, we kept our heads down and made the kind of music we want to hear on a dance floor. Loud Ambient 2 is the result.

Damian Dalla Torre returns with People Pleaser, a record shaped by movement, collaboration and an ever-deepening relationship with sound as environment.
The Leipzig-based multi-instrumentalist, composer and producer first found wide attention with his 2022 debut Happy Floating, and his subsequent album I Can Feel My Dreams was named the #1 Contemporary Album of 2024 by The Guardian, an accolade that broadened his audience and deepened confidence in his evolving voice. That second album, written between Europe and South America, opened unexpected doors and took Dalla Torre to stages across New York, Japan and Italy. “When you release music, it’s very intimate,” he reflects. “You show your emotions pretty raw. I was kind of scared. But getting so much positive feedback gave me a lot of self-confidence to try out more.”

People Pleaser begins in that quiet shift of confidence.

The title stayed with him for months before he committed to it. “It was a working title for a long time,” he says. “I didn’t actually think I would use it. But this term also felt somehow relevant in connection with the phase of self-negotiation during the development process. Some aspects are related to pressure, others are positive.” The ambiguity felt right. Rather than presenting it as a statement, Dalla Torre leaves it open, an invitation rather than a confession.
At the centre of People Pleaser is collaboration. Guitarist Bertram Burkert, whose playing stretches from classical delicacy to electric abstraction, joined Dalla Torre in the studio for an intensive three-day session, recording a wide palette of textures that would become the backbone of the album. Vocalist Laura Zöschg, a key live collaborator, harpist Babett Niclas, organist Felix Römer, tape experimentalist Markus Rom, marimba and vibraphonist Volker Heuken and Japanese artist Manami Kakudo also contribute, creating a sound that feels intimate yet expansive.

Evolution can be ugly and beautiful, painful and euphoric. An Undying Love For A Burning World is the first new release from Neurosis in a decade, and a potent statement of intent and rebirth - one that marks the first new steps of resolve and resilience.

An Undying Love For A Burning World is an epic album of colossal hypnotism - beautiful, fearsome and utterly compelling in a way that only Neurosis can be. Aaron Turner (Sumac, Isis) joins the band on vocals and guitar, a name whose legacy is intertwined with the band’s own and a true kindred spirit.

“From the moment I first heard Neurosis over 30 years ago, I felt this was the music my heart and mind had been seeking but not yet heard. Now after many years travelling along various musical paths of my own, the singular sound and spirit embodied by Neurosis continues to speak to the depths of my being. It is an honor and a true pleasure to have been welcomed so warmly into a band that not only shaped my perspective on the limitless possibilities of music - but has lived and exemplified the necessity of upholding creative integrity and camaraderie above all else.” - AARON TURNER

Neurosis have never been afraid of change, and here they embrace endless regeneration, surrendering to the emotional exorcism through heaviness and distortion that their music incites. Just as the universe tends towards balance, Neurosis’cacophony of noise, rhythm and dissonance always resolves towards moments of beauty. The addition of Turner's powerful vocals and wildly creative and unhinged approach to guitar proves to be a vital force as Neurosis find themselves again at the mercy of evolution and expression.

On every song in the band’s history, Neurosis shifts restlessly between tension and relief, invoking a feeling both feral and transcendent in listeners. The band describe their songwriting process as an inescapable impulse to create with each other - a need rather than a choice. Indeed, the band insist that their return is “not a reunion - we never broke up.”

The album was recorded by Scott Evans (Kowloon Walled City, Sumac, and Great Falls) at Studio Litho in Seattle during three weekends this winter, and mixed in three days just six weeks before release at Evan's Antisleep Audio in Oakland.

Neurosis will play their first show in seven years on the traditional lands of the Blackfeet Nation in Montana as part of Fire in the Mountains festival by special invitation of Firekeeper Alliance, a non-profit dedicated to reducing youth suicide in Indian Country.

FITM, is a unique festival known for bringing epic music to epic landscapes with the intent of reconnecting and immersing oneself with the natural world, and strengthening our ancestral roots as human beings - an aim which aligns directly with Neurosis’ deep-rooted power.

In spring 2025, Abul Mogard and Rafael Anton Irisarri created the source material for their second album, Where Light Pauses in the Silence of the Sun, during a three-day residency at Morphine Raum in Berlin. Functioning as both recording studio and performance venue, the space has no stage, with the audience gathered around the performers. Working within an open framework, the duo reshaped the music each evening while recording the performances live to multitrack. Rotary speakers, modular synthesizers and bowed guitar formed the core of their sonic language, captured through a 1970s mixing console and microphones placed around the room.

Back in Mogard’s studio in Rome, the material was further crafted as motifs were stretched, fragments isolated, and tempos dissolved. Irisarri recorded additional guitar textures and treatments in New York, while passages recorded by Martina Bertoni and Andrea Burelli in Berlin reinforced the harmonic centres and brought breath, refinement and a new sensibility to their compositions. The process continued as Mogard’s layering and subtraction reassembled everyone’s parts into the final arrangement.

The album opens with “In the Eastern Wild,” building from a sparse outline into a monumental formation of low-frequency weight, its internal motion shaped by the rotating Leslie speaker. “Over the Domes” widens into a broader acoustic field, where sustained modular tones meet waves of softly plucked guitar. The music then turns inward with “A Blue Descent,” centred on Bertoni’s cello, whose growling timbre introduces a melancholic depth.

At the album’s centre, “In a Quiet Radiance” unfolds around a slow guitar ostinato, its luminous stillness opening into a more expansive and reflective state. Across its ten-minute span, Burelli’s violin lines and Bertoni’s lower cello phrases gradually surface, weaving through the harmonic field. Mogard brings Burelli’s processed voice to the fore, its emotive, operatic presence becoming one of the record’s pivotal moments. “Of Blessed Ages” suspends the sonic flow, shifting between parallel major and minor chords as lingering, slowly decaying melodies shape the music’s internal drift. The closing “Among Shadows” settles into a darker resonance as layered textures recede.

Mogard and Irisarri’s shared language balances restraint and maximalism. UK magazine Crack describes the music as “a tidal wave held in suspension,” while Dutch newspaper de Volkskrant writes, “What a colossal sound, and how this music strikes at the emotions.” Reflecting on the residency sessions, Irisarri recalls: “At moments I genuinely couldn’t tell if a sound was coming from me or from Abul. It stopped feeling like two people making decisions and began to feel like we were inside a system moving on its own."

Marja de Sanctis’ cover artwork revisits the vessel sculpture from the duo’s first album, Impossibly Distant, Impossibly Close. There it appeared as raw, unfired clay. Here it has been fired in the kiln and finished with a glaze. Light gathers on its polished surface and spills into the surrounding space. As she explains, “I wanted to convey the idea of continuity within the duo, and the vessel became a kind of container for that idea. However, their music felt different this time, and with the collaboration of Martina and Andrea, I felt it should have a sleeker, softer, more glamorous look, very distant from the first raw appearance.” The transformation of the vessel from raw clay to fired form suggests a passage from immediacy toward permanence, mirroring the music’s gradual expansion.

In spring 2025, Abul Mogard and Rafael Anton Irisarri created the source material for their second album, Where Light Pauses in the Silence of the Sun, during a three-day residency at Morphine Raum in Berlin. Functioning as both recording studio and performance venue, the space has no stage, with the audience gathered around the performers. Working within an open framework, the duo reshaped the music each evening while recording the performances live to multitrack. Rotary speakers, modular synthesizers and bowed guitar formed the core of their sonic language, captured through a 1970s mixing console and microphones placed around the room.

Back in Mogard’s studio in Rome, the material was further crafted as motifs were stretched, fragments isolated, and tempos dissolved. Irisarri recorded additional guitar textures and treatments in New York, while passages recorded by Martina Bertoni and Andrea Burelli in Berlin reinforced the harmonic centres and brought breath, refinement and a new sensibility to their compositions. The process continued as Mogard’s layering and subtraction reassembled everyone’s parts into the final arrangement.

The album opens with “In the Eastern Wild,” building from a sparse outline into a monumental formation of low-frequency weight, its internal motion shaped by the rotating Leslie speaker. “Over the Domes” widens into a broader acoustic field, where sustained modular tones meet waves of softly plucked guitar. The music then turns inward with “A Blue Descent,” centred on Bertoni’s cello, whose growling timbre introduces a melancholic depth.

At the album’s centre, “In a Quiet Radiance” unfolds around a slow guitar ostinato, its luminous stillness opening into a more expansive and reflective state. Across its ten-minute span, Burelli’s violin lines and Bertoni’s lower cello phrases gradually surface, weaving through the harmonic field. Mogard brings Burelli’s processed voice to the fore, its emotive, operatic presence becoming one of the record’s pivotal moments. “Of Blessed Ages” suspends the sonic flow, shifting between parallel major and minor chords as lingering, slowly decaying melodies shape the music’s internal drift. The closing “Among Shadows” settles into a darker resonance as layered textures recede.

Mogard and Irisarri’s shared language balances restraint and maximalism. UK magazine Crack describes the music as “a tidal wave held in suspension,” while Dutch newspaper de Volkskrant writes, “What a colossal sound, and how this music strikes at the emotions.” Reflecting on the residency sessions, Irisarri recalls: “At moments I genuinely couldn’t tell if a sound was coming from me or from Abul. It stopped feeling like two people making decisions and began to feel like we were inside a system moving on its own."

Marja de Sanctis’ cover artwork revisits the vessel sculpture from the duo’s first album, Impossibly Distant, Impossibly Close. There it appeared as raw, unfired clay. Here it has been fired in the kiln and finished with a glaze. Light gathers on its polished surface and spills into the surrounding space. As she explains, “I wanted to convey the idea of continuity within the duo, and the vessel became a kind of container for that idea. However, their music felt different this time, and with the collaboration of Martina and Andrea, I felt it should have a sleeker, softer, more glamorous look, very distant from the first raw appearance.” The transformation of the vessel from raw clay to fired form suggests a passage from immediacy toward permanence, mirroring the music’s gradual expansion.

In spring 2025, Abul Mogard and Rafael Anton Irisarri created the source material for their second album, Where Light Pauses in the Silence of the Sun, during a three-day residency at Morphine Raum in Berlin. Functioning as both recording studio and performance venue, the space has no stage, with the audience gathered around the performers. Working within an open framework, the duo reshaped the music each evening while recording the performances live to multitrack. Rotary speakers, modular synthesizers and bowed guitar formed the core of their sonic language, captured through a 1970s mixing console and microphones placed around the room.

Back in Mogard’s studio in Rome, the material was further crafted as motifs were stretched, fragments isolated, and tempos dissolved. Irisarri recorded additional guitar textures and treatments in New York, while passages recorded by Martina Bertoni and Andrea Burelli in Berlin reinforced the harmonic centres and brought breath, refinement and a new sensibility to their compositions. The process continued as Mogard’s layering and subtraction reassembled everyone’s parts into the final arrangement.

The album opens with “In the Eastern Wild,” building from a sparse outline into a monumental formation of low-frequency weight, its internal motion shaped by the rotating Leslie speaker. “Over the Domes” widens into a broader acoustic field, where sustained modular tones meet waves of softly plucked guitar. The music then turns inward with “A Blue Descent,” centred on Bertoni’s cello, whose growling timbre introduces a melancholic depth.

At the album’s centre, “In a Quiet Radiance” unfolds around a slow guitar ostinato, its luminous stillness opening into a more expansive and reflective state. Across its ten-minute span, Burelli’s violin lines and Bertoni’s lower cello phrases gradually surface, weaving through the harmonic field. Mogard brings Burelli’s processed voice to the fore, its emotive, operatic presence becoming one of the record’s pivotal moments. “Of Blessed Ages” suspends the sonic flow, shifting between parallel major and minor chords as lingering, slowly decaying melodies shape the music’s internal drift. The closing “Among Shadows” settles into a darker resonance as layered textures recede.

Mogard and Irisarri’s shared language balances restraint and maximalism. UK magazine Crack describes the music as “a tidal wave held in suspension,” while Dutch newspaper de Volkskrant writes, “What a colossal sound, and how this music strikes at the emotions.” Reflecting on the residency sessions, Irisarri recalls: “At moments I genuinely couldn’t tell if a sound was coming from me or from Abul. It stopped feeling like two people making decisions and began to feel like we were inside a system moving on its own."

Marja de Sanctis’ cover artwork revisits the vessel sculpture from the duo’s first album, Impossibly Distant, Impossibly Close. There it appeared as raw, unfired clay. Here it has been fired in the kiln and finished with a glaze. Light gathers on its polished surface and spills into the surrounding space. As she explains, “I wanted to convey the idea of continuity within the duo, and the vessel became a kind of container for that idea. However, their music felt different this time, and with the collaboration of Martina and Andrea, I felt it should have a sleeker, softer, more glamorous look, very distant from the first raw appearance.” The transformation of the vessel from raw clay to fired form suggests a passage from immediacy toward permanence, mirroring the music’s gradual expansion.

Manfredi Romano, founder and A&R of Life and Death Records, has been a pivotal figure in electronic music for over two decades. This year marks an important milestone as he is invited to curate the upcoming fabric presents mix for fabric Records, a release that highlights his instinctive storytelling and the distinct musical identity he has cultivated throughout his career.

Manfredi’s journey began in Italy around the turn of the millennium, tour-managing punk bands and organizing left-field music events before completing his studies in computer science at the University of Pisa. He went on to form DAZE, Italy’s first booking agency dedicated exclusively to electronic music, laying the groundwork for what would become a globally influential presence in the scene.
In 2010, he shifted focus to his own artistic project, DJ Tennis, which quickly gained international recognition for its emotive blend of house, techno, and disco. Renowned for creating intimate atmospheres in even the largest spaces, DJ Tennis has performed at leading clubs such as Circoloco Ibiza, Fabric London, and Panorama Bar Berlin, and at major festivals including Sonar, Timewarp, Primavera Sound, and Coachella. His 2022 residency at Phonox in London further showcased his ability to shape dancefloors with nuance and depth. Since 2017, he has also co-founded and curated Rakastella, the celebrated Art Basel Miami festival created in partnership with Life and Death and Innervisions.

As a producer, DJ Tennis draws from early relationships with post-rock pioneers such as Godspeed You! Black Emperor, Tortoise, and Fugazi, channelling their influence into intricately layered electronic compositions. His work has appeared on respected labels including Kompakt, Rhythm Assault, Running Back, !K7, Cercle Records, Aus Music, and Circoloco Records, alongside frequent releases on Life and Death. His remix portfolio includes collaborations with Diplo, Boys Noize, Loco Dice, WhoMadeWho, and Acid Pauli, among many others. He has also previously contributed a DJ-Kicks mix, bringing his eclectic sensibilities to one of electronic music’s most beloved series.

After extended periods living in Miami, Berlin, and Barcelona, DJ Tennis now resides in Paris. Outside the studio and club environment, Manfredi is a passionate chef who has curated menus for charity events and collaborated with Beatport at ADE, Pioneer, and Resident Advisor. He is also an avid collector of bicycles, vintage action figures, and vinyl — his record collection now surpasses eleven thousand pieces.

With the forthcoming fabric presents DJ Tennis release, he offers a deeply personal, narrative-driven statement that reflects decades of crate-digging, boundary-pushing selections, and a lifelong devotion to sound. It marks a new chapter in his artistic evolution and stands as one of the year’s most anticipated entries in the iconic series.
The first single from DJ Tennis is a collaboration with long-time studio partner Ashee, and it immediately sets the tone for the mix: warm, seductive, rhythm-driven, and emotionally charged.

“I Wanna Know” is a sleek club track built around a pulsing groove and a steady, hypnotic rhythm. The low end is rounded and warm, giving the track a driving but understated momentum. Percussion is crisp and minimal, allowing the bassline and vocal elements to take center stage. The repeating, robotic earworm of a vocal hook, “I wanna know’ is the lynchpin to the track and will remain in your head long after the track has finished.

It’s the kind of record that warms up a room early in the night, sets the tone for a sunset beach set, or adds a lush, emotional peak during a more leftfield club moment.

Gatefold Sleeve

M’Bamina – African Roll (1975)
The story of an album born between Africa, Italy, and the nightclub culture of the 1970s
In the heart of 1970s Italy — a country undergoing profound social change and a music scene just beginning to open itself to distant sounds and cultures — an extraordinary, almost improbable story took shape. It is the story of a group of young African musicians who found their way to Europe, of a Turin nightclub that became a crossroads for communities and experimenters, and of an album which, released in small numbers and largely unnoticed at the time, is now considered a rare jewel of Afro-fusion.
The band called themselves M’Bamina — an ensemble of musicians from Congo, Cameroon, and Benin, who arrived in Italy in the early Seventies. Settling between northern Italy and the Pavia area, they began performing in small clubs and community events, bringing with them a vibrant rhythmic heritage: African polyrhythms, call-and-response vocals, funk-infused bass lines, and Caribbean or Afro-Latin colours absorbed along their musical journeys. Their raw, contagious energy on stage quickly drew attention.
Meanwhile, in Turin, another story was unfolding. There was a venue becoming almost legendary: Voom Voom, one of the city’s liveliest nightclubs, run by Ivo Lunardi. The club attracted an eclectic crowd — students, artists, foreigners, night owls — and Lunardi quickly understood that the dancefloor wasn’t just a place for music, but a melting pot for a new kind of cultural energy. Out of this vibrant atmosphere came his idea: to turn the club’s name into a small independent record label, Voom Voom Music, capable of capturing the spirit of those years and giving voice to unconventional projects.

When Lunardi heard M’Bamina, he immediately sensed that this was the sound he had been searching for: fresh, different from anything circulating in Italy at the time, and capable of blending African tradition with funk and European sensibility. He brought them into the studio.
Production was handled by Lunardi along with Christian Carbaza Michel, while the engineering was entrusted to Danilo Pennone, a young sound technician with a sharp, intuitive ear.
The recording sessions — held in Turin in 1975 — produced a remarkably warm and direct sound. The music feels almost live: grooves rooted in African tradition, but open to funk-rock structures and modern arrangements. It is a natural fusion, never forced. Tracks move between tribal rhythms, funk basslines, light electric guitars, congas and Afro-Latin percussion, with call-and-response vocals and melodies that echo both Congolese tradition and the lineage of Latin jazz. Not by chance, one of the album’s most striking tracks, Watchiwara, reinterprets a Latin standard through M’Bamina’s own rhythmic language.

The album was titled African Roll — a name that was already a statement of intention. It is African music that “rolls,” that moves, adapts, transforms within a new geographic and cultural setting. It is not strictly Afrobeat, nor Congolese rumba, nor Western funk: it is a spontaneous, hybrid blend, shaped more by lived experience than by any calculated aesthetic program.
When African Roll was released, the world around it barely noticed. Distribution was limited, and 1970s Italy had yet to develop a cultural framework for receiving such music. The national music press rarely paid attention to African or “world” productions. The album slipped into silence — though the band’s own story did not.

M’Bamina continued performing across Europe and Africa, even sharing a stage in Cameroon with none other than Manu Dibango. By the late Seventies, they moved to Paris, signed with Fiesta/Decca, and recorded a second LP, Experimental (1978). Meanwhile, the peculiar record they had made in Turin began to resurface quietly among vinyl collectors, Afro-funk enthusiasts, and DJs hunting for forgotten grooves.
That is when the album’s fate began to shift.

Over the decades, African Roll emerged as an almost unique document: a snapshot of an intercultural Italy before the word “intercultural” even existed, a fragment of migrant history, a spontaneous experiment in musical fusion born far from major industry circuits but rich in authenticity. Original copies began commanding high prices on the collector’s market, and the album became recognized as one of the hidden classics of European Afro-fusion from the 1970s.
Today, more than fifty years later, this reissue finally restores visibility and dignity to a project that deserves to be heard, studied, and celebrated. It is not simply an album: it is the testimony of a rare cultural encounter, born in an Italy unaware of how fertile such exchanges would one day become.

It is the story of a visionary producer, an extraordinary band, and a fleeting moment in which music, migration, and nightlife came together to create something genuinely new.
African Roll is — now more than ever — the sound of a bridge: between continents, between eras, between cultures. A record that, after rolling far and wide, has finally come home.

2026 Repress

since his first ep tips' on luciano's label cadenza in 2007 producer and dj petre inspirescu emerged into one of the key figures of the romanian electronic music scene.

so far he released music on labels such as vinyl club, lick my deck or amphia. together with his buddies rhadoo and raresh he also launched in 2007 the label (a:rpia:r) -  a platform where he, his two friends and many producers from romania and abroad released detailed grooving house and techno, that stands out with delicate structures and one-of-a-kind grooves.

both of his more dance floor oriented solo albums intr-o seara organica...' and gradina onirica for (a:rpia:r) are enlarged with melodies, sounds and harmonies that go beyond the usual characteristics of a dance album.

furthermore his love for classic musicians like mily alexejewitsch balakirev, alexander porfiryevich borodin or or nicolai andrejewitsch rimsky-korsakow can be felt in the album padurea de aur (opus 2 in re major) and two more eps that he released under the alias pensemble on the romanian label yojik concon in order to unite classical spheres with analogue electronic music production.

in february 2013 he also released his highly acclaimed fabric mix cd that only features dance floor leaning music produced by himself. with talking waters' he published in late 2014 his first 12inch on mule musiq that is now followed by the full-length album vin ploile' which he produced without the intention to entertain with easy to hook up rhythms, melodies and harmonies.

even tough he established himself as a internationally playing house dj that regularly performs at all major clubs, festivals and other party destinations around the globe: as a musician petre inspirescu always tries to enter new territories to explore with a heartfelt human touch the infinite space of sound.

for his latest album the man that originally comes from the eastern romanian town braila stepped away from his former experiments of melting classical spheres with electronic music. instead the 36-years old man from bucharest only used some piano, string and wind instrument elements and analogue electronics to arrange a gracefully deep ocean of sound.

all slow grooving tracks spread the atmosphere of live improvised sessions that are edited, tweaked and mixed to perfection. in-the-moment moods of strange and unusual analogue synth sounds groove in a fluid quality with subliminal bass shapes, latinate percussions, jazz rhythms and acoustic melodies.

together they create a gaseous kinetic atmosphere full of tangible rhythm patterns, delicate chords and ghostly modular synth pads - all mixed subtle to create space for the tones between the tones.

you can call it a hypnotic after hour album for after hours that are dedicated to a deep listening experience. you can tag his arrangements as brilliantly textured and musically super-charged ambient, which goes beyond the usual definition of the genre.

all nine suspenseful compositions seduce with a deep melodic sensibility, harmonic adventures and an overall rhythmic ambiance of freshness and laidback enthusiasm. together they represent a challenging auditory experience that will resonate in your mind long after the music has finished. 

A song about Colostomy - from the opening bars you might think so. but it gets worse. 'X rated' stuff.
the label say 'Djoko is no stranger to Voyage Direct. Having first appeared on the label way back in 2012, he's returned numerous times since, becoming an integral member of the imprint's growing family of artists. Elsewhere, he's delivered material on Tuskegee, Mobilee and Leftroom, amongst others, developing an approach that takes inspiration from numerous styles of house and techno. However, little he's previously released can match the raw, eyebrow-raising lust and sexually charged funk of Dirty Talk'.

Driven forward by Djoko's sleazy, whispered spoken word vocal, the original version combines the rubbery, bass-heavy rhythms of classic, Dance Mania-style ghetto house, the delay-laden guitar flashes of vintage NYC proto-house, and the kind of darting, funk-fuelled keys - provided by fellow Dutch producer Kid Sublime - that recall the glory days of '80s electrofunk. Djoko provides an alternate version in the shape of the thrusting, stripped-back Club Dub', with his breathy Accapella' rounding off the A-side.

On the flip, two Voyage Direct stalwarts take it in turns to rework the track. First up is label boss Tom Trago, who builds on Djoko's elastic percussion with some dense new drum hits of his own. These are combined with spacey synths and sharp string stabs, giving Dirty Talk' a more classic techno/house fusion flavour. In contrast, Werner uses the opportunity to turn in a triple-X-rated interpretation full of bounding, Chicago-influenced beats, intergalactic pads, sleazy acid lines, and sweaty, surging drum fills. It's a fittingly breathless remix.'

Magnificent Fall, The Notwist's new rarities compilation, compiles some special and wild moments from this unique German indie group's rich history. They've always snuck gorgeous songs and thrilling remixes onto split singles, extended plays, and other formats, across their career, and pieced together here – compiled thoughtfully, with sensitivity to flow and the listening experience – these thirteen selections work as a kind of ‘shadow narrative’ of The Notwist, an alternative index of the possibilities this shape-shifting group uncovered during their time together.

They've been smart to let go of chronology when sequencing Magnificent Fall, so the songs here move across phases and stages of The Notwist's career, helmed by brothers Markus and Micha Acher. This approach makes plenty of sense, as this music compiled here abstracts from two impulses – to push forward and not repeat what has come before, while building from the group's very specific musical language. Just one example: the loveliness of the instrumental “Avalanche”, from 2020's Ship, follows elegantly from the happy-sad glitch-pop of “Blank Air”, from a 2010 split with former member Martin Gretschmann's project Console. Different phases, different memberships, shared concerns.

The Notwist have always been interested in and open to community, and one of the many ways they reach out to others is through the remix. There are three here, sent back to The Notwist from different corners of the world, both aesthetically and geographically: Grizzly Bear take on “Boneless”, Ada tackles “Run Run Run”, and Odd Nosdam submerges “Sleep” in noise and clatter. Another connection, of course: Odd Nosdam is part of The Notwist's extended family, through Markus and Micha Acher's 13 & God project with fellow Anticon artists Themselves and Subtle.

So, the music on Magnificent Fall traverses varying terrain – abstract hip-hop, chamber pop, sweet and simple folk song, indietronica, free-floating improvisation. There are several unreleased songs, as well, drawn from across the group's history. Core to it all, though, the thing that makes The Notwist so singular, is the thumbprint of the Acher brothers, their gently poetic way of moving through the world and welcoming other musicians and artists into the fold, expressively and with generosity.

Historically aware without being nostalgic, Magnificent Fall is the perfect way to introduce The Notwist's reissue programme with Morr Music, too, including a box set, and the group's eight albums, documenting their three-and-a-half decades of music and community-making. Looking back to move forward? It's a very good idea.

Renegade Methodz continues its forward drive into deep, uncompromising techno with the arrival of Alexey Dunchyk and his striking new release, 'Passion/Aggression'. Known for his refined yet forceful productions, Dunchyk brings a new dimension of raw and unapologetic depth to the label's expanding catalogue of international talent.

The result is a record that cuts through the noise of modern techno, built for DJs who care about substance not hype and shaped with the kind of lasting weight that keeps the true spirit of this music alive.

Among the true Keiji Haino devotees, Nijiumu’s Era of Sad Wings (released on P.S.F. in 1993) has always held a special place in the pantheon. Operating for only a few years in the early 90s and apparently only performing a handful of shows, Nijiumu operated at the opposite end of the dynamic spectrum to Haino’s famed power trio Fushitsusha, dwelling in a hushed, meditative realm of mysterious droning sonorities and free-floating melodies that occasionally erupts into violence. Black Truffle is pleased to announce a new double-LP edition of a lesser-known 1994 Nijiumu recording, When I sing, I slip into the microphone. Into that void, I bring comrade “prayers”, then, turning to face the outside, together we explode. Here, Nijiumu is the trio of Haino, Tetuzi Akiyama and the obscure Takashi Matsuoka, the three performing on a wide variety of string, wind and percussion instruments, as well as electric guitar and bass, and Haino’s unmistakeable voice.

Like on the early solo Haino album that shares the group’s name (released on P.S.F. in 1993), the instrumentation swims in reverb (the use of which Akiyama recalls as ‘a kind of point of the band’), often obscuring the instrumental sources. On the short opening piece, a distant reed instrument arcs long buzzing melodies over a bed of cymbals and gongs, like a psychedelic take on Tibetan music. The epic second part, occupying almost 50 minutes, begins as a splayed, near-formless cloud of electric guitar and bass, shadowed by bowed and plucked strings, the three elements working through twisting atonal shapes. At various points in the recording, we hear what seems to be the sounds of musicians moving between instruments, their shuffling and bumps fitting seamlessly into this radically open music. Eventually, what sounds like electric guitar moves closer to the foreground, fixing on a repeated melodic cell around which hover mysterious clouds of long tones and a sporadic shaker. At the half-hour mark, the music begins to build to a violently emotive climax, Haino’s impassioned vocal cries punctuating a lumbering, bass-heavy murk, contrasted at points by what sounds like a tin whistle. Suddenly, the volume drops to a near-whisper, opening the way for the stunning final moments, which touch on the slow-motion balladry of Haino’s classic Affection, here given an eccentric twist by an occasional woodblock hit. The third piece opens with a hazy trio of rumbling bass, bowed strings and abstracted slide guitar, the latter calling to mind some of Akiyama’s later solo work. Eventually joined by Haino’s voice, its fragile, haunted tone might remind the listener of the man in black’s documented love of the madrigals of the murderous Count Gesualdo, before the recording abruptly breaks off mid-note. In this new edition, the Nijiumu trio recording is supplemented by a piece recorded solo by Haino in 1973, a bracing electronic blowout stretching almost half an hour. Using a homemade electronics setup to unleash a barrage of crunching distortion and shuddering harmonic fuzz, it takes its place in the canon of extreme live electronics next to Robert Ashley’s Wolfman and Walter Marchetti’s Osmanthus fragrans, looking forward to extreme noise years before Merzbow. Taken as a whole, these four sides of music are a stunning document of some of the lesser-known waystations of Haino’s singular creative path.

When you’re running a label, a demo occasionally comes across your desk that makes you reconsider everything you thought your label was all about. For Balmat, such was the case with this stunning album from Stephen Vitiello, Brendan Canty, and Hahn Rowe. It sounds like nothing we’ve released so far—and that very otherness opened up a whole new world of possibilities for us.

Fans of ambient, experimental electronic music, and sound art will be familiar with Vitiello, a New York native, long based in Virginia, who has collaborated with a cross-generational list of greats: Taylor Deupree, Steve Roden, Lawrence English, Tetsu Inoue, Nam June Paik, Ryuichi Sakamoto, Pauline Oliveros, and many more. On labels like 12k, Room40, and Sub Rosa, he has explored a wide range of minimalism, microsound, lowercase, ambient, improv, and other styles. But this album is something different. It may begin in ambient-adjacent territory, but it quickly veers off, and it just keeps zigzagging, taking on elements of krautrock, post-punk, dub, and the groove-heavy interplay of groups like Natural Information Society and 75 Dollar Bill.

This stylistic turn is thanks in large part to Vitiello’s choice of collaborators. “We’re coming from three different schools,” Vitiello says: “sound art, art rock, and punk rock.”

Active since the early 1980s, Rowe—a violinist, guitarist, and producer/engineer—has played with, or manned the boards for, a frankly jaw-dropping list of musicians: Herbie Hancock, Gil Scott-Heron, the Last Poets, Roy Ayers, John Zorn, Glenn Branca, Swans, Live Skull, Brian Eno, David Byrne, Anohni, R.E.M., Yoko Ono, and many more. But he might be most closely associated with Hugo Largo, a one-of-a-kind New York quartet—two basses, vocals, and Rowe’s violin—that in the late 1980s helped lay the groundwork for what would eventually become known as post-rock.

Canty, of course, is the legendary drummer of Fugazi, the visionary DC post-hardcore group, as well as Rites of Spring before them, and, currently, the Messthetics, a Dischord-signed instrumental trio with guitarist Anthony Pirog and Fugazi bassist Joe Lally.

Vitiello’s trio first collaborated on First, a 17-minute piece released on the Longform Editions label in 2023. Second picks up where the freeform drift of First left off, channeling the trio’s exploratory energies into more intentionally structured tracks and—in a real first for Balmat—some almost shockingly muscular grooves. “Sometimes my projects are more conceptually driven,” Vitiello says, “but I think this was more musically geared. I just wanted to open up the references and bring in an incredible drummer, bring in some melodies, and I’m sort of the center.” But his collaborators, he stresses, are “vastly creative in making anything I might suggest better.”

Like its predecessor, Second took shape in phases, shifting between improvisation and collage. Vitiello laid down the skeleton of the music at home, sketching out initial ideas on Rhodes keyboard and acoustic and electric guitar; he then fed the parts through samplers and his modular system, recording 10- or 20-minute jams. Once he had edited them into more structured forms, he hit the studio with Canty, who added not just drums but also bass and piano; finally, Vitiello took the results of those sessions to Rowe, who played violin, viola, electric bass, and 12-string acoustic and bowed electric guitar, and assisted in some of the final structuring and mixdown.

A few more surprises along the way: Reanimator’s Don Godwin, the studio engineer where Vitiello recorded with Canty, contributed what he calls “resonant dustpan”; and none other than Animal Collective’s Geologist, who just happened to be in the studio that day, sits in on hurdy gurdy on “Mrphgtrs1,” the album’s gorgeous, stunningly atmospheric drone closer. “I love these chance encounters,” Vitiello says. “Somebody I admire, a group I admire—that was an unexpected gift.”

An unexpected gift is a great way of describing Second as a whole: three veteran musicians venturing outside their usual zones and finding a new collaborative language together. The results can’t be neatly slotted into any given genre; they belong not to any given category, but to the spirit of conversation itself.

When SW. AKA, Stefan Wust, first established SUED in 2011, their compelling, cosmic and anonymous material struck a rare chord, emanating far beyond the freeform Berlin underground in which it was written. Unknowingly, Los Angelean Oliver Bristow had
established a parallel musical universe, founding the hyper-specific label Acid Test, inviting pioneering artists such as Donato Dozzy, Tin Man and Pepe Bradock to indulge in glorious interpretations of 303 control. Without compromise, these were records that quietly
reinvigorated electronic music.
Some years later, a new label, SWOB, unites Wust and Bristow in a very different landscape. And while it would be easy to transform the purity and integrity of this special alchemy into something like nostalgia, yearning for an alternative culture before
influencers and against algorithms, SWOB endeavours to find inspiration in arguably tougher truths.
“By the mid-90s, the techno scene had already reached a breaking point”, recalls Wust.
“Today, the scene is so highly professionalized that it barely resembles what was once called the "underground. But "underground" was never more than the simple reality that music circulated on cassettes among friends or that dubplates were played at illegal
parties... The consequence of today’s professionalization is the death of the original movement.”
Still, no one can kill an idea. Here, inspired by the “Outside Tekno” or “Outkast Techno” that emerged to subvert even back in the day, SWOB are proud to introduce the tekkNOthing trilogy, a new project from SW. beginning on cassette and culminating later
on vinyl. Some years in development, tekkNOthing first began to take shape during the 2020 global pandemic, when ‘the underground’ quickly began to mean something radically different once again.
“I noticed how everything was accelerating while simultaneously spinning in circles – existing in a kind of creative limbo on a global scale”, recalls Wust. “And that’s where true freedom lies: for artists – in any sense – to consciously engage with this necessity. In
other words, irrationality or nonsense can eventually generate meaning.” While hardly capitulating to the contemporary hammering of techno’s most recent developments, tekkNOthing’s first chapter quickly establishes a frenetic pace; tracks like ‘nuclearFALLoutX’ and ‘paslolESmess’ interlock and unfold at a tempo removed from that typically associated with SW. while ‘euroBSS’ and ‘viscousHEAT’ successfully experiment with a more guttural palette, veering far into a rejuvenating and previously uncharted leftfield.
A resolutely human endeavour, the music of SW. is nonetheless written and recorded in the looming shadow of AI, whose free-form adoption of pop culture, hip-hop and techno reminds Wust of “when photography emerged in the 19th century... painting was no
longer bound to naturalism. Similarly, music today is no longer bound to fixed standards – through AI, it can become truly free.”
If not in competition, than taking inspiration from this landscape of new opportunity, tekkNOthing diversifies further with eight unpredictable tracks across part II, taking in stuttering machine-funk on ‘crAMPDUNK’, a freeform organ jam via ‘sonicENdo’ and the
inexplicable piston-percussive, post-punk exotica heard on ‘poorTENOOR#a#01’ DJs with dual cassette decks skills might even find function in the more overtly floor-focused ‘DU ¨NEhowSE#1takeÄ’ or ‘lookLOOK’.
The times may have changed, but the promise remains simple; more music, more freedom.

Eaux proudly announces a new collaborative mini-album from label boss Rrose and Polygonia. Containing six tracks and over 40 minutes of music housed in a fully printed sleeve with artwork by Jon-Paul Villegas, the record focuses squarely on the dancefloor while infusing it with the kinds of psychoactive drones, intricate polyrhythms, and relentless modulations that have come to identify both of their approaches to sound. Featured heavily are their shared interests in sonic shapes that resemble natural forms and conjure tactile feelings, in this case related to themes of skin-like surfaces and circulatory systems experienced simultaneously on a micro and macro level. While several of the tracks hover in a flexible tempo range between 125 and 130 bpm, "Stretcher" reaches up to 142, and the closing track "Vena Cava" trades the kick drums for spectrally processed percussion and endlessly diverging high-frequency pulses.

The story behind the release starts in 2022, when Rrose reached out to Polygonia after noticing that her tracks were appearing in their sets more frequently than any other artist. Never before had Rrose proposed a collaboration with someone they hadn't met before, but there was such an obvious connection in their approach to sound that it felt necessary. As it turns out, Polygonia had only become interested in techno after hearing Rrose perform at a festival in 2018. It all made sense, and they began sharing sketches and unfinished ideas with each other, trading them back and forth until they reached completion. Without any announcement of their collaboration, the two artists have since been asked to share the stage together several times. It seems there are other people out there sensing a connection...


Bios:

RROSE

Rrose is an alias of the multi-disciplinary artist Seth Horvitz, born and raised in California, and currently based in London. Active since 2011, the Rrose project explores the intersection of hypnotic techno, experimental composition and psychoacoustic phenomena with a meticulous touch. The first major breakthrough was 2012's "Waterfall" for Sandwell District which followed "Motormouth Variations," a collaborative project with composer, improviser, and activist Bob Ostertag. After the shuttering of Sandwell District, Rrose established Eaux, a home for further solo productions and collaborations. Building on his studies in electronic composition and history at Mills College, Rrose's electronic pieces blur the lines between thrillingly claustrophobic club tracks and destabilizing sound art explorations. In 2015, she released an extended version of James Tenney's postcard composition "Having Never Written a Note For Percussion" for solo gong, and in 2018 collaborated with Charlemagne Palestine on "The Goldennn Meeenn + Sheeenn" for two grand pianos. These works overlapped with the development of Rrose's singular techno: EPs like "Vanishing Pools," "The Ends of Weather" and "Arc Unknown" as well as 2019's debut LP "Hymn to Moisture" and last year's follow up "Please Touch." Rrose is also active as a touring DJ and live performer, equally comfortable commanding sweaty warehouse dancefloors and seated audiences in historic concert halls. Appearances include Unsound, Atonal, Semibreve, Dekmantel, Mutek, Sonic Acts, Nuit Sonore, Mostra, Parallel, Theatre Graslin, Nextones, and Berghain.
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POLYGONIA

Polygonia represents a multidisciplinary music and art project conceived by Lindsey Wang from Munich, Germany.

She draws inspiration from her many years of practicing various acoustic instruments and her keen interest for other cultural forms of expression, which she translates into the digital language of electronic music and art.

Her productions' soundscape exudes a mystical, organic quality, featuring intricate and compelling rhythms. Polygonia's sound palette ranges from energetic, groovy Deep Techno, Downtempo, Grey Area to textural and/or harmonic Ambient. Besides, she is not afraid to include influences from the genres House, Drum and Bass, Electro etc.. In addition inspiration from nature play a major role in many of her productions. Exemplary for her style are for instance her 'Otro Mundo' EP (2023) on Bambounou's Bambel Imprint, her 'Bloom' EP (2022) on the American record label Sure Thing, the release 'Deformed Human Nature' (2021) on her own label IO, as well as the album 'Abbilder einer vergessenen Welt' (2021) on the Korean label Huinali.

Her DJ and live sets too reflect her passion for different genres. Depending on the time of day and setting, Polygonia shows a different musical side. What unites all her dance music sets is the hypnotizing effect that invites to completely lose oneself in the world of sounds for a longer period of time. Several voices from the audience also confirm that the musician always tells a complex story within her mixes, allowing for very clear highs and lows. In the same set there can be very harmonic passages, which provide emotional moments and on the other hand extremely texture-heavy dark tracks, which establish a connection with the subconscious and put the listener in a kind of trance.

Polygonia has already visited numerous of prestigious venues. She is now a regular at Tresor or Berghain in Berlin and additionally started her residency in 2023 at Munich-based BLITZ club.

Dejan Dex from 005 is back but with Blagoj in their mischievous music duo: Son Kota. From Misla to Termos, Dejan brings forth a new level of artistry with his right hand partner in this sizzling 3 track compilation. Literally sizzling, Termos isn’t shy in sound, waking up the listener with profound, sexy yet soothing beats in a humble, homemade kind of way.

“Our inspirations range from day to day activity. From 80’s pop rock music and good movies to tv shows and live sets from artists that we admire, together we combine all the sounds we hear into one full package.” - Son Kota

Son Kota - A story of two artists meeting halfway, making an alias to expand their music horizons. Focused on finely shaped sounds, and digging deeper as they can into the house music world.
Producing for 13 years running, Son Kota began paving their way around the same time. Coincidence? We think not. Destined to work together, Blagoj and Dejan were passionate pioneers on the Macedonian music scene with their like minded approach to genre identity and track ideation. Officially born in 2017, Son Kota was given its project name meaning “sounds of happiness” in French/Japanese dialect.

The two exude a sense of genuine awe and wonder for minimalism, and the blissful feeling it evokes.
Echoing the 90s once again, Son Kota offers a fresh batch of 3, including a remix by Arapu, each having its own musical idiosyncrasies.

Top of the track list is the dark and moody Vroche: a somewhat psychedelic ensemble of broken beats and synth stabs for the adventurous minimal listener. Up next is Termos, a marvelous piece that embodies classic house qualities peppered with nostalgic melodic elements. Finally, Arapu spins this record further with his own interpretation of Termos, bringing his signature touch to the table. Any Satya fan and production nut will be sure to appreciate his groovy minimal hypnotic flavors.

The second instalment from London Odense Ensemble digs deeper into the group's vision of what modern psychedelic jazz should sound like. Cut from the same sessions as Jaiyede Sessions vol. 1, released last summer, vol. 2 presents a more nuanced approach to the material. On this set the ensemble focuses on shorter, layered pieces - travelling from deep spiritual jazz grooves to gorgeous free-flowing minimalism to full-on acid jazz. There's echo-drenched flutes being absorbed into layers of analog synth pads and guitars, bossa beats and double bass sequences merging with electronics. It’s an intoxicating mélange of sounds and styles, spanning wide temporal and geographical distances. London Odense Ensemble came together when two of the finest exponents of London's flourishing jazz scene, flautist and saxofonist Tamar Osborn and keyboard specialist Al MacSween, came over to Denmark to explore new sounds with Causa Sui's Jakob Skøtt and Jonas Munk, as well as local bass player Martin Rude. For two days the group laid down grooves and ideas and experimented in the studio, and later the best segments were edited and mixed by Jonas Munk, who took a somewhat liberal approach to the mixing process, often dyeing the material with external effects and synthesizers. Jaiyede Sessions are the kinds of records that defy genre-terms, yet have its own instantly recognizable fingerprint. It carries a unique shared vision between the players of what modern psychedelic jazz sounds like. bios: Tamar Osborn: Saxophonist, composer and multi-wind instrumentalist is the creative force behind modal jazz ensemble Collocutor (On The Corner Records). She is a member of the Dele Sosimi Afrobeat Orchestra, performs and collaborates regularly with Sarathy Korwar, Jessica Lauren, Emanative, Ill Considered and DJ Khalab. Al MacSween: Keyboard player & founding member of Kefaya. Collaborations include American jazz legend Gary Bartz, Syrian qanun master Maya Youseff, London Community Gospel Choir, Palestinian jazz singer Reem Kelani & kora player Kadialy Kouyate. Martin Rude: Multi-string instrumentalist & lead singer in Sun River & Edena Gardens with members of Papir & Causa Sui. Jakob Skøtt: Drummer in Causa Sui with a slew of side projects on El Paraiso, including Chicago Odense Ensemble, as well as being responsible for the label’s visuals. Jonas Munk: Guitarist in Causa Sui & studio wizard on most releases on El Paraiso. Also works with a wide palette of electronic music.

Building on their shared exploration of forward-leaning UK club sounds, EM + STAV herald the arrival of their new label JoyLift with the Endless EP. Having entrenched themselves within the free-spirited landscape of Bristol’s music community, the pair home in on a focused sound which draws on the city’s storied bass mutations as a springboard for their own take on modernist dance music.

There’s a tough, brooding quality to Endless EP which speaks to the meditative pressure of soundsystem immersion, but equally EM + STAV build out evocative, shifting narratives within that club-ready framework. From dubwise processing to deft sound design, a broad church of processes are wielded to shape out these pieces, and physicality comes in many forms whether in weightless sub lines or pointed, angular drum programming. Given their long-standing connection to developments within the underground music scene, there’s a keen instinct for the dynamic shifts which can set a dance alight, while the ill- defined shape of the wider genre-not-genre allows plenty of space for movement and experimentation.

Alongside the three original productions from EM + STAV, kindred spirit Forest Drive West steps up for a remix of ‘Odd' which aligns with the aesthetic intentions of JoyLift while demonstrating the idiosyncratic qualities associated with the scene’s most vital artists. The cohesive feel of Endless EP extends to Luke Griffin’s artwork, in which natural source material undergoes heavy processing to wind up in a striking new form, shot through with colour but ultimately shrouded in a moodiness that harks back through the lineage of hardcore-rooted UK dance music.

By its very nature the future is unwritten for JoyLift, but EM + STAV’s new project commits itself to an ever-evolving palette of sound, rendered as music with a strong sense of identity - tracks to shake the dance without resorting to obvious tropes, responding to and feeding into the inspiring tides of ideas emanating from the environment around them.

After the recent Experiments re-issue with 90's off-style unclassifiable tracks composed by the legendary Dub producer - The Disciples - Androo (NS Kroo) sets out to re-create and freely adapt this material. The fact that Sound Metaphors chose Androo to re-construct these works in to new material is not random. Androo has been producing Dub since he was a teenager but he quickly turned to all kinds of musical experiences, mixing styles and influences. Once past the intimidation of working with material from one of his favorite and revered producers, Androo tried to pay homage to the free spirit that this Disciples album contains. Between reference and irreverence, the album is woven with a playful, DIY, and also serious weave. As you listen, a sometimes very harmonious and controlled landscape takes shape, then suddenly steep slopes and raw ridges appear. Almost like an art of sound drawing. A line in permanent oscillation between supposedly antagonistic registers. Danceable pieces cut for dancefloor brush against strange, problematic, and voluntarily irrecoverable elements. Consensual pop chords rub shoulders with sizzling blurred contours and sounds that are sometimes too loud. 4/4 rhythms get jackhammered out of the tempo with opulent delay effects. The “Dubmix” is here, constantly at work. It is, above all, an art of the hands, fingers handling the console which from then on becomes an instrument in its own right - for Androo Dub is experimental music.

2025 Repress

On his fourth album proper, Now Here No Where, Danish producer Kölsch (aka Rune Reilly Kölsch) is charting new terrain. Fans of his ‘years trilogy’ – 1977, 1983 and 1989, released on Kompakt over the past decade – were privy to a kind of sonic diary, an autobiography, tracking the artist’s early years through three albums of superior, meticulously rendered techno. Calling in collaborators where needed – most notably, the strings of Gregor Schwellenbach – there was still something deeply personal going down, not quite hermetic, but internally focused; the albums proved not only Kölsch’s mastery of his chosen form, but also his capacity to make techno personal, individual, and to trace histories of the self through music. But on Now Here No Where, Kölsch finds his feet firmly planted in the present. Reflecting on his new album, he notes, “It is fascinating to write about memories and feelings that have had years to manifest and develop, but how would I approach current emotions?” It’s a good question: our past coheres through the narratives we build around memories, but the moment we’re in, the newness of the now-ness, is harder to navigate; this story is as yet untold. For Kölsch, this makes Nowhere Now Here “an album about life in the year 2020. A time defined by confusion, misinformation and environmental challenges. It is an emotional interpretation of personal and mental challenges, observations and personal growth.” Kölsch does this with music that effortlessly balances emotional heft with the dancefloor’s brimming desires. It’s a space that Kölsch has navigated for a while now – one of techno’s breakthrough acts, an in-demand DJ across the globe and a prolific and restlessly creative producer, he’s also Kompakt’s biggest-selling act – but Now Here No Where ratchets up the lushness, making for a delirious drift across twelve tracks that are at once perfectly poised and deeply trippy. “Great Escape” is an elegant swoon, an opener that pivots on a sigh and a prayer; then “Shoulder Of Giants” bustles into view, subliminal clatter and an aching violin line giving way to a riff that glows with fluorescence and iridescence. “Remind You” combines an odd ECM jazziness with notes from a twenty-first century torch song; “Sleeper Must Awaken” mines huge buzzing synths and lets them float, in and out of sync, with reduced, ticking beats; “Traumfabrik” (dream factory – there’s a giveaway) is oddly lush, the tones malleable and plastic, morphing across a glitching undertow. There are sad, emotional washes of strings throughout the penultimate “While Waiting For Something To Care About”, while “Romtech User Manual”’s patterns twist and shape in the light. Throughout, Kölsch never keeps his eye off the dancefloor, and you can tell this is his still his home. “The amount of energy and joy I experience every time I perform, has a profound effect on me. It has inspired me so much of late and has become an integral part of my musicality.” “The way we join in expressing our hope for the future every weekend has given me so much,” Kölsch concludes. The club as a temporary autonomous zone, as a space both of freedom and of politics; somehow, that’s all here, Now Here No Where. “Most of all, it is an album about hope.”

Auf seinem vierten Album “Now Here No Where” betritt der dänische Produzent Kölsch (alias Rune Reilly Kölsch) neues Terrain. Seine Trilogie mit den Jahreszahlen 1977, 1983 und 1989, die in den letzten zehn Jahren bei Kompakt erschienen war, hatte seine Fans durch eine Art akustisches Tagebuch, eine Autobiografie geführt, die die frühen Jahre des Künstlers über die Länge von drei großartig produzierten Techno-Alben nachgezeichnet hatte. Wo es nötig war, wurden Kollaborateure hinzugezogen - allen voran für die Streicher, arrangiert von Gregor Schwellenbach -, dennoch zeichnete die Musik immer auch etwas zutiefst Persönliches aus, etwas nicht Hermetisches, auf eine bestimmte Art immer auch nach Innen fokussiert. Die Alben bewiesen nicht nur, wie sehr Kölsch die von ihm gewählte äußere Form beherrscht, sondern auch seine Fähigkeit, Techno zu etwas Persönlichem und Individuellem zu machen und der eigene Geschichte durch Musik näher zu kommen.

Auf “Now Here No Where” steht Kölsch nun mit beiden Beinen fest auf dem Boden der Gegenwart. Mit Blick auf sein neues Album stellt er fest: "Es ist faszinierend, über Erinnerungen und Gefühle zu schreiben, die Zeit hatten, sich zu manifestieren und zu entwickeln, aber wie nähere ich mich meinen aktuellen Emotionen?”. Eine gute Frage: Unsere Vergangenheit wird im Innersten zusammengehalten durch Geschichten, die aus Erinnerungen entstehen, aber der Moment, in dem wir uns befinden, die Neuheit des Neuen, ist schwieriger zu beschreiben; die Geschichte ist noch nicht erzählt. Für Kölsch ist “No Here Now Where” daher "ein Album über das Leben im Jahr 2020. Eine Zeit, die von Verwirrung, Desinformation und ökologischen Herausforderungen geprägt ist. Es geht dabei um die emotionale Interpretation von persönlichen und mentalen Herausforderungen, von Beobachtungen und der eigenen, individuellen Weiterentwicklung".

Kölsch tut dies mit Musik, die mühelos kleine Gefühlsausbrüche mit den großen Sehnsüchten der Tanzfläche in Einklang bringt. Es ist dieser Zwischenraum, in dem sich Kölsch schon seit einiger Zeit bewegt, als weltweit gefragter und gefeierter Live Act, DJ und so unermüdlicher wie kreativer Produzent (nicht umsonst ist Kölsch der “biggest-selling-artist” bei Kompakt), doch “Now Here No Where” treibt all das noch weiter auf die Spitze: ein enormer Sog entsteht, der uns über zwölf Tracks hinweg gefangen hält wie ein perfekt ausbalancierter Trip. Der Opener "Great Escape" ist pure Eleganz, ein Track, der irgendwo zwischen Seufzer und Gebet hin und her schwankt; dann drängt "Shoulder Of Giants" ins Blickfeld, ein unterschwelliges Geklapper, eine wehende Geige, schließlich ein schillernder Riff, der in der Dunkelheit zu leuchten und zu glühen scheint.

"Remind You" kombiniert seltsamen ECM-Jazz mit einem sentimentalen Liebeslied des 21. Jahrhunderts; "Sleeper Must Awaken" schürft im Bergwerk riesiger Synthesizer, mal im Takt, mal aus dem Takt ticken die minimalen Beats; "Traumfabrik" ist ungewöhnlich “lush”, die einzelnen Töne, geschmeidig und modelliert, zerfließen in einem glitzernden Abgrund. Das vorletzte Stück "While Waiting For Something To Care About" wird von traurigen, emotionalen Strings untermalt, während sich die Strukturen von "Romtech User Manual" im Licht drehen und immer wieder neu formieren. Die ganze Zeit über behält Kölsch die Tanzfläche im Auge, und man merkt ihm an, dass sie immer noch sein Zuhause ist: "Die Menge an Energie und Freude, die ich bei jedem Auftritt erlebe, hat eine tiefe Wirkung auf mich. Sie hat mich gerade in letzter Zeit stark inspiriert und ist zu einem integralen Bestandteil meiner Musik geworden.”

"Die Art und Weise, wie wir an jedem Wochenende gemeinsam unsere Hoffnung auf eine bessere Zukunft zum Ausdruck bringen, hat mir viel gegeben", so Kölsch abschließend. Die Vision des Clubs als eine temporäre autonome Zone, als ein Raum von großer Freiheit aber auch von politischen Ideen, das ist irgendwie alles hier drin, Now Here No Where. "Es ist vor allem ein Album über Hoffnung."

A new EP by Extrawelt is always something special, as they continually manage to reinvent themselves while remaining unmistakably true to their sound. The a-side „Moonster“ of their latest record forms a subtle and almost magical bridge to early musical influences such as Immortal Coil, Chris & Cosey, The Cure, and Throbbing Gristle.
In doing so, they reclaim, or rather reintroduce, a powerful, mystical element into their music, one that is integrated so naturally it feels as if it has always been an essential part of Extrawelt’s sonic DNA. Beyond that, the track unfolds through numerous facets, constantly shifting and evolving. Just when you think it is settling into a familiar direction, small variations emerge, keeping the piece remarkably alive and unpredictable.
You can clearly sense how much fun Extrawelt had working on this track. It is bursting with ideas, energy, and vitality, radiating a playful confidence that makes it endlessly engaging.

The b1 track „Bettermaker“ takes a different route, dedicating itself entirely to a single mood. Through subtle pitch bending and a carefully shaped tonal palette, the track unfolds with a slightly eerie, enchanted atmosphere.
From beginning to end, „Bettermaker“ remains focused and unwavering. There are no breaks or dramatic shifts in direction, instead, the piece commits fully to its initial setting. A monolithic, almost mantra like motif forms the core, creating a distinctive ambience, mystical, shadowy and faintly oriental in character.
This atmosphere is carried and reinforced by percussive, ethno inspired drums, which add an organic, ritualistic pulse. The result is a hypnotic soundscape that draws its strength from consistency and depth rather than contrast, inviting the listener into a secluded, otherworldly space.

The final piece of the EP „Popcorn Forever“ reveals another side of Extrawelt’s thinking. The track unfolds like a curious experiment in motion. Instead of building toward a predictable climax, sounds are gradually tossed into an ever running loop fragments, textures and small rhythmic ideas appearing almost casually, as if the piece were assembling itself in real time.
At first the elements seem loosely connected, sometimes abstract, sometimes slightly mischievous in the way they twist and bend. It almost feels like an impossible construction task. But Extrawelt’s experience quietly guides the process. Bit by bit the scattered parts begin to communicate with each other.
Repetition becomes the hidden engine. With every return of the loop new details slip into the structure, and what once appeared random slowly starts forming relationships inside the listener’s mind. The track never forces a clear explanation, yet the brain begins to tie the loose ends together almost automatically.
Popcorn Forever therefore works beautifully as a kind of transit piece within the EP. It moves between ideas, linking moods rather than closing them off. In typical Extrawelt fashion, the result is playful, slightly surreal and full of subtle discoveries that reveal themselves over time.

Vladislav Delay, primarily known as a highly regarded electronic music innovator, steps ahead with his acoustic jazz quintet. Echoing the forward-looking vd musical vision always ahead of the curve, the new album does not fit into any specific category, forging a path of its own across the 10 tracks. Recorded at Candybomber Studio in Berlin, the album brings vd together with Maria Bertel, Lucio Capece, Derek Shirley and Max Loderbauer. This is shape-shifting, elastic music that exists left of any given timeline.

Based in Hailuoto in Northern Finland, Vladislav Delay has never fit into any given mould as an artist. His prolific, at times mythical output has elevated him to a veritable legend status in all music cycles appreciating a unique artistic voice. Be it his forward-reaching recent releases as Vladislav Delay on his own Rajaton imprint, his Ripatti alias, or playing metallic percussion with the Moritz Von Oswald Trio, Vladislav Delay always has A SOUND. And that sound is ever-evolving, as his new jazz album shows. What "jazz" is this? There are certainly liquid elements there in the mix, not unlike the ones heard on previous vd productions. Then again, this is acoustic quintet music by and large, but not any specific kind we have ever heard before. Isn't that the whole point of "jazz"? Whatever came before is a springboard, not a limitation.

øjeRum is the moniker of Danish artist Paw Grabowski. Since 2007, his mostly tape-based works have unfolded like private diaries—intimate, textural, often centered around an vintage pump organ Paw found left abandoned in a dilapidated Danish home, and to which he would return, sometimes in the dead of winter, to play and record on. The works featured on this release are centered around this pivotal engagement and collect some of his earliest releases from around 2014 to 2017. These were then carefully selected and released via Vaagner's sister label in 2018 via a double cassette release, which has since become a coveted collectors item.

Throughout the album, the organ breathes, sighs—the moments of brief silence that follow are almost palpable, then like a sonorous echo, the sound rushes back into the foreground with gentle restraint, submerging the listener into an undulating current of emotional upheaval. In this ebb and flow, øjeRum shapes a space where memory seems to waver and dissolve, and where a fragile, lingering melancholy unfolds with a kind of hushed inevitability.

With the newly minted Vaagner.Archive, this album is now reissued on vinyl for the first time—carefully remastered and housed in a 2xLP gatefold sleeve printed on special cardboard, its tactile presence echoing the material sensitivity that has always defined Paw Grabowski's practice. A love letter to repetition and restraint.

Fifteen years after their first album "Time for a Change", and drawing on the experience of two others ("Elephanz" 2017, and "Rien de personnel" 2023), ELEPHANZ now returns with a fourth album that carries the scent of first loves, the kind you sing from the heart with your hands gripping a guitar.

"Love. Hurt. Repeat." tells, across ten songs, the story of a return to oneself, like coming home after years spent roaming the world, only to realize that everything you needed to understand yourself was already there at the starting line.

To help you understand what this new album makes me feel, I'd like to tell you about my first meeting with Jon and Max in 2009, when I became the band's bassist. Sixteen years ago, I discovered these two young men and set off in their family Kangoo van on my very first tour.

Through our early rehearsals around the piano of their childhood, I discovered their love for pop music in all its breadth, always in search of harmonies and melodies that touch the heart in the simplest way and gently ease your sorrows along the way. With them, I learned to appreciate the mainstream hits I had previously dismissed on principle, and I discovered the demanding art of melody as I listened to them sing about love and friendship through unforgettable catchphrases.

Listening today to some of the songs from their new album, I think back to those two young men with a big-city rock look, shut away in the living room of their family home, talking only about leaving that dull countryside behind to live the big life in the capital (Streets of Rage). What I once took for a kind of revenge against the hostile environment of their adolescence was in fact an almost vital need to find their place among others, to feel understood in order to feel at ease in their own skin.

Today, I find them again with the same guitar and the same inexpensive Juno as back then, but with the confidence shaped by years of concerts, writing, studio encounters, and all kinds of experimentation. The music of this fourth album has never been so close to that of their earliest days, but their voices have been set free. They no longer sing about who they dreamed of becoming, but about who they have always been, their most distant concerns, sometimes even their darkest ones, yet always in search of the light.

It is as if ELEPHANZ had to travel all the way around the world to come face to face with themselves again. There is no longer any shame in being who you are, and it is even the best way to understand yourself, to exist and to heal. To heal from grief and heartbreak, to understand the child you once were and the one who carried them (Mother), to forgive yourself and finally learn to love yourself.

That is what makes this record as sensitive as it is powerful and strikingly truthful. It was written and recorded like a cry, live, in just a few weeks, using the instruments of their beginnings: sharp bass and drums, powerful guitars, and synthesizers that are at times soaring, at times carriers of liberating melodies. The art of ballads remains, as does that of universal pop songs.

There is a beautiful urgency here, the urgency of finding oneself again in order to understand oneself through both pain and beauty, and "Love. Hurt. Repeat." is its most perfect expression.

Bristol's Tara Clerkin Trio return to World of Echo and the EP format for a five song collection of quixotic, emotional redolence. But do not mistake their absence for inertia. If their musical output has been a little sparse during those in-between years, limited to a few solo ventures and an astonishing ten minute long piece as a trio, their time has otherwise been richly spent: continuous writing and recording, extensive live performances across Europe and Japan, a cultivation of local and more far-flung artistic connections (musical and otherwise), and a monthly NTS show that, through the voice of others, speaks most obviously to their own unorthodox interests. It's the conflux of that winding activity that leads indirectly to On The Turning Ground, 26 minutes of probing, thoughtful composition that draws from no one specific source. Their inspirations might be centreless, but the trio still possess a very obvious anchor in the form of their hometown. Bristol stands as a city of multitudes, heterogenous and vibrant in such a way as to allow it to renew and remake time and again. Tara Clerkin Trio drink from that same well, duly reflecting a rich musical heritage built on fwd-facing electronic subcultures and experimental urges.

As such, On The Turning Ground finds them subject to their own subtle internal evolution, the pervasive sense that you've caught them mid-bloom, on their way to becoming but never anything but themselves. The two instrumental pieces that bookend the EP stand as a perfect case in point, displaying an increasing mastery of compositional space. Pensive and restrained, 'Brigstow' and 'Once Around' both emanate an interstitial quality that's not so much after- as in-between-hours, miniature dub-folk symphonies held together by the kind of tacit understanding that remains the preserve of only the closest of family units. If those two tracks are shaped by a sense of shifting temporality, then the three vocal-led pieces that comprise the record's core feel like a gentle ossifying of aesthetic into something approaching their own unique form of avant-pop. 'Pop' is, of course, a broadly subjective concept, but there's no avoiding the overt sparkling melodicism of songs like 'Marble Walls' and 'The Turning Ground', undeniable re-directions of that late 90s impulse to bend pop sensibilities into off-centre terrain, to render the familiar new again. This is what Tara Clerkin Trio do, gently pulling the ground from under your feet, turning you to face something you'd not quite seen before. To view the world as they do: sideways, sometimes, all of the time.

ZENA, the contemporary ethio-jazz duo from London comprised of producer, keyboardist

and synth player Yohan Kebede and bassist/producer Menelik, have announced the forthcoming release of their debut EP ‘TEMESGEN’; is a six-track aural odyssey that balances uncompromising experimentation with a deep sense of home, comfort, and exploration. In accordance with the duo’s mission, the project is seeking to redefine and reimagine Ethiopian music for a new generation.

Speaking on the inspiration behind the EP’s title, Yohan said: “‘TEMESGEN’ means “Thank God” in Amharic, and for me, I never heard my mother receive good news without saying it aloud. After the first couple gigs we did as ZENA, we saw how people reacted to our music and how it resonated with them. It spurred in us a feeling of overwhelming gratitude, after which the EP kind of named itself”

Born out of a mutual love and respect for the music of their shared Ethiopian heritage, ZENA are charting a new endeavour where Ethiopian musical traditions meet the future. Building upon the roots and foundations laid by legendary Ethiopian musicians Haliu Mergia, Alemayehu Eshete and Mulatu Astatke, ZENA fuses the haunting spirituality and earthiness of the ethio-jazz tradition with a modernity, sensuality and sense of disruption that is distinctly London.

Following three sold-out London headline shows, plus appearances at We Out Here Festival and on NTS Radio, ZENA arrive on Brownswood Recordings with a bold debut that’s equally at home across jazz-minded selectors and leftfield crate-diggers. The duo’s momentum is fuelled by Yohan Kebede’s landmark year with Kokoroko; from the release of Tuff Times Never Last to an NPR Tiny Desk, a North American tour, and their biggest headline show yet at O2 Academy Brixton, alongside Menelik’s quietly formidable reputation in London’s inner circle, shaped by time on the road and in the studio with Muva Of Earth and Bill Laurance.






d B1 IT'S YOU (ANTE NEH) ft. Meron T




d B1 IT'S YOU (ANTE NEH) ft. Meron T




[d] B1 IT'S YOU (ANTE NEH) [ft. Meron T]

Audaciously innovative sound designer/producer/live artist Enrico Sangiuliano reaches #0 in his countdown from ‘NINETOZERO’ on his eponymous ephemeral imprint, triggering its built-in autodestruct by the release of provocative 3-track EP ‘Absence’, out March 19th on vinyl & digital. The digital EP will also feature an Edit of ‘Step Into The End’.

The Italian tech maestro and artistic pioneer eschews populism, yet still storms charts & wins hearts – notably/recently in his unsettling, compelling manifesto x battle cry ‘The Techno Code’. Says Enrico of his label, ‘NINETOZERO is a cycle of listening, making, and letting go. Born from silence, shaped by space, directed by reflection, altered by change, revealed by glitch, unified through interconnection, lifted toward transcendence, refined by discipline, clarified by chaos, and finally returned to absence.’

On his ‘Absence’ EP: ‘With ‘Absence’ we come full circle, back to the womb of nothingness but charged with the echo of everything we have experienced. It is an ending, yes, but also an invitation. A new kind of silence is born, shaped by the memory of every frequency we unleashed.’ Enrico Sangiuliano can thrill listeners with his music, but dares to challenge, to trust them.

Main track ‘Step Into The End’: a full-on barrage of trustworthy techno danceability & energy, bookended by soulful violin, high horns & sirens, with spoken incantations as if summoning to a sacred rite. A ten-minute timeless dance track as ‘all we’ve learned converges into a single point where presence & silence merge.’

Title track ‘Absence’: The (Techno Code-esque) Voice speaks of sound, space, absence, trace... the track’s background noise is the almost- silence of his studio ‘through a magnifying glass’.. His breathing can just be heard in the recording. Melodic, beautiful, free-form chords in the middle section act like a breakdown in reverse. ‘A provocation, a track of silence, incidental noise. A tale of a story that just finished, but also a background for a story to be shaped. No one is intentionally performing for us. Here, the responsibility and work of listening is on you, to figure out what you can hear and what to make of it, to craft your own soundtrack based on the sounds that surround you, beyond the track. You can perform your own version yourself. Close your eyes and just listen. Engage with your environment. Be present. Expand your senses. Enjoy absence.’

‘The Aftermath’: a 40-second provocative coda. A snatch of stirring conversation signing off the EP and label alike. What will be launched post-zero by Enrico Sangiuliano? Watch this space, this absence.

Diagonale des Yeux is the new band formed by two of France’s admired and adventurous artists. Laurène Exposito, we know as EYE, our longest regular contributor to the label — and friend Théo Delaunay, member and producer of Parasite Jazz, panoptique, De Klok & Violent Quand On Aime.

In Knekelhuis we have a particular fondness for artistic outputs that resist easy categorisation, and Diagonale des Yeux inhabits precisely that kind of territory.

Every aspect of the project is DIY/homemade. Their world drifts along the fringes of cabaret, strange 1980s French underground pop music to contemporary lo-fi scene — evoking the spirit of Nini Raviolette and The Residents — while delivering beautifully written songs that lodge themselves in your head almost immediately like a Cindy Lee ballad.

The tracks on Madeleine squeak and creak, wobbling on fragile hinges before suddenly opening onto moments of pure beauty.

Drums and guitars follow up synths and electronic percussions captured on tape between living rooms, studios and a concert space.

The band has a kink for choirs and playfully uses diverse languages. Their lyrics emerge through a homemade, patented four-hands cadavre exquis (Exquisite Corpse) process, where chance and dialogue shape meaning as much as intention.

Diagonale des Yeux is a singular project — equally strange and irresistibly pop-leaning. Music like weeds pushing through pavement cracks and, against all odds, turning into flowers.

Denmark s forward forward-thinking trio Human Being Human return with a luminous new collaboration featuring acclaimed American saxophonist Chris Cheek. Rooted in lyricism, groove, and connection, Being captures the essence of what it means to create music as a shared act of humanity. Formed by bassist Torben Bjornskov, pianist Esben Tjalve, and drummer Frederik Bülow, Human Being Human have quickly earned a reputation as one of Europe s most distinctive piano trios. Their blend of Nordic lyricism and modern rhythmic vitality has drawn international acclaim for its compositional voice and cohesive ensemble sound. On Being , the trio expand their world through the unmistakable voice of Chris Cheek - a player known for his warm tone and intuitive lyricism, whose credits include work with Paul Motian, Brad Mehldau, and Charlie Haden. A long long-time admirer of Cheek s work and humility, Bjornskov reached out and invited him to Denmark to collaborate with the trio. In the studio, the chemistry was undeniable, as most of the album s tracks were captured in just one or two takes, preserving a sense of immediacy and spontaneity. Reflecting on what it means to be human, our capacity to make decisions and shape the world around us, as well as the damage our species has done to our planet, the quartet channels a spirit of contemplation and rediscovery through elegant, organic compositions. Tracks like Human Rights showcase the group s deft interplay and melodic clarity, while the tender ballad Being highlights Cheek s burnished tone and Tjalve s spacious harmonic sense. On Filia , a duo between bass and saxophone, the music unfolds in weightless dialogue and pure musical empathy. True to the group s name, Being reflects on what it means to live, connect, and create as humans in a complex world. The essence of music is working together, being open, being positive, and wanting to experience new things, things," says Bjornskov. That s essentially what jazz is - it s influenced by any and every culture in the world, every kind of music and race, and every person is part of it.

A chance meeting in Mexico City set Points of Inaccessibility into motion. When Ibero-American composer Rafael Anton Irisarri crossed paths with Dutch media artist Jaco Schilp at MUTEK in 2024, a conversation about how technology shapes perception revealed an unexpected common ground. Schilp invited Irisarri to a spring 2025 residency at Uncloud, the Utrecht-based collective he co-founded, where Irisarri's sound began to take form amid an environment shaped by Schilp’s visual research.

The Uncloud studio was located inside the former Pieter Baan Centre, a forensic psychiatric prison where suspects of violent crimes were once confined. Its long history of silence and containment shaped the atmosphere in which the project developed. Within this setting, Irisarri coaxed long bowed-guitar tones through a network of pedals and looping systems. The raw gestures thickened into a vaporous and architectural field of sound. Schilp processed the material through a custom point-cloud software patch that produced images in continuous flux. The visuals flickered, dissolved and reformed like memories that resist coherence, functioning as a digital Rorschach that reflected the observer’s own perception.

Amid these spectral echoes, the project evolved into an examination of how the past persists within present signals. Memory endures as residue and interference, continually shaping perception even when its source has faded.

Schilp’s visual process required a continuous stream of sound in real time. Irisarri improvised throughout the residency, generating material that allowed the visuals to develop in parallel. Once back in his New York studio, he began shaping the recordings by carving pathways through the improvisations and mapping selected passages into MIDI. This process allowed him to build outward from the bowed-guitar material with minimal overdubs, adding Prophet 5 textures, Moog bass and strings that expanded the harmonic field while keeping the original performances at the center. To refine the structure, Abul Mogard provided editorial input, working with Irisarri’s stems to guide transitions and strengthen the overall pacing. The material, originally created under conditions of immediacy and constraint, evolved into a fully realized work through careful revision, patience and sustained reworking.

The title engages the geographic concept of the Poles of Inaccessibility, locations defined solely by their distance from all surrounding points. Irisarri adapts this idea to the conditions of digital life, where new forms of inaccessibility arise through the informational enclosures that structure perception. What appears to be a fully connected network often produces a deeper kind of separation, one shaped by the filtering logic of the systems that mediate experience. In this sense, the digital sphere mirrors its geographic counterpart. We inhabit spaces saturated with signals, yet the possibility of genuine contact becomes increasingly remote.

At its core, Points of Inaccessibility considers what can be understood as the new rituals of capitalist realism. Irisarri uses the term digital shamanism to describe the forms of simulated connection that organize contemporary life. These systems promise comfort through algorithms, influencers and AI interlocutors, yet they often reproduce the same conditions that generate loneliness in the first place. What appears as connection becomes the echo of connection, a sequence of gestures that imitate solidarity while withholding it. Like the geographic poles, these rituals are defined by distance. They pull us into environments where everything is illuminated, yet meaningful proximity becomes increasingly rare. In this sense, the work approaches a hauntology of the present, a reflection on futures that have stalled and intimacies that have been thinned by the algorithmic infrastructures that surround us.

This thematic tension unfolds across the album’s four movements. Faded Ghosts of Clouds introduces the work with textures that rise and dissipate in slow cycles, creating an atmosphere that resists clear definition. Breaking the Unison occupies a pivotal position in the sequence and focuses on the moment when the individual and the system fall out of alignment. Its shifting patterns trace the scattering of signals that once suggested connection, revealing the instability at the heart of contemporary perception. Signals from a Distant Afterglow forms the center of the album and features vocals by Karen Vogt, whose presence enters the sound field like a fragile transmission shaped by distance and delay. The closing piece, Memory Strands, follows motifs that appear, recede and briefly intersect before returning to quiet. Across these movements, the album outlines a landscape in which emergence and disappearance continually inform one another.

Listening to Points of Inaccessibility is an encounter with a sound field that is constantly in flux. Elements surface briefly, shift position and recede, creating a sense of motion that resists stable interpretation. The music moves between closeness and vastness, carrying traces of memory while withholding a clear point of resolution.

The album’s visual identity completes the project’s conceptual arc. In Mexico City, where Irisarri and Schilp first met, Daniel Castrejón transformed stills from Schilp’s point-cloud visuals into the cover image. The final artwork captures a single suspended frame of the digital material, a moment extracted from a field that is normally in constant motion. Its surface recalls the texture and abstraction found in the work of Catalan artist Antoni Tàpies, where material presence and erasure coexist within the same plane.

What emerges is a work that examines the tension between technological systems and human presence. Points of Inaccessibility asks whether connection is still possible within environments shaped by mediation and delay, or whether we have become isolated points within the very networks that promise proximity. What possibilities for relation persist within environments organized by algorithms and interruption? And how are we meant to understand presence when so much of it is constructed at a distance?

Points of Inaccessibility will be released on BioVinyl on February 6, 2026, with audiovisual performances planned throughout 2026.

Mastered by Stephan Mathieu
Artwork by Jaco Schilp
Design and layout by Daniel Castrejón
Artist photo by Iulia Alexandra Magheru.

NA ZAROT opens a portal into a universe of darkness, chaos and spiritual upheaval. The sound is raw, jagged like cold iron and radically unpolished-an antithesis to any romanticized or völkisch fantasy, firmly rooted in an anti-fascist stance. NA ZAROT shapes lo-fi black metal infused with traces of punk as a counter-space: a place where archaic directness meets a dense, spiritually charged atmosphere that unfolds a hypnotic pull even within the noise. The production remains deliberately fragmented and unrefined-a kind of emotional excavation protocol that exposes the core of the genre without glorifying it. Lyrically, the tracks revolve around death, decay, isolation, spiritual disintegration and those threshold moments in which the abyss releases a strangely unsettling calm. Musically, sawing guitars, brutal screams, driving drums, sickly strings, ghostly voices and a distorted piano collide. Above it all lies a weight of leaden sorrow, until sudden ruptures drag the pieces without warning into even deeper darkness. Side A presents the tracks from the On Death and Dying tape, where literary spaces intersect with personal experiences. The lyrics brush against literary references such as Mallarmé's death poems, the legend of La Llorona or motifs from Romain Gary's The Dance of Genghis Cohn.Side B offers new, previously unreleased material titled "Alpensterben." The four songs preserve those unheard screams that would otherwise vanish into nothingness. Alpensterben becomes a blood-marked journey through the final hours of an existence scraping against its own ending-an intense, haunting echo of lived despair. Comes with printed 28page 10" magazine!

NA ZAROT opens a portal into a universe of darkness, chaos and spiritual upheaval. The sound is raw, jagged like cold iron and radically unpolished-an antithesis to any romanticized or völkisch fantasy, firmly rooted in an anti-fascist stance. NA ZAROT shapes lo-fi black metal infused with traces of punk as a counter-space: a place where archaic directness meets a dense, spiritually charged atmosphere that unfolds a hypnotic pull even within the noise. The production remains deliberately fragmented and unrefined-a kind of emotional excavation protocol that exposes the core of the genre without glorifying it. Lyrically, the tracks revolve around death, decay, isolation, spiritual disintegration and those threshold moments in which the abyss releases a strangely unsettling calm. Musically, sawing guitars, brutal screams, driving drums, sickly strings, ghostly voices and a distorted piano collide. Above it all lies a weight of leaden sorrow, until sudden ruptures drag the pieces without warning into even deeper darkness. Side A presents the tracks from the On Death and Dying tape, where literary spaces intersect with personal experiences. The lyrics brush against literary references such as Mallarmé's death poems, the legend of La Llorona or motifs from Romain Gary's The Dance of Genghis Cohn.Side B offers new, previously unreleased material titled "Alpensterben." The four songs preserve those unheard screams that would otherwise vanish into nothingness. Alpensterben becomes a blood-marked journey through the final hours of an existence scraping against its own ending-an intense, haunting echo of lived despair. Comes with printed 28page 10" magazine!

Hello Spiral returns to the same North London block, the same triangulated geometry of balconies and courtyard, but with a shift of orientation. His previous record looked outward from the eighth floor, these four new recordings move inside, into the building’s arteries. Joe explores the hallways of the complex where he has lived and listened for years, using the same tool as before, an iPhone and its voice memo app. The recordings were made in situ, each exactly eleven minutes, captured without ceremony.

The hallways feel different. Less private, less scenic, more neutral. They are the connective tissue between hundreds of domestic units, a space of transit rather than rest. The carpet absorbs certain frequencies. The fire doors catch and release pockets of air. The lights hum. Elevators drone in soft cycles of arrival and departure. These are the institutional sounds of shared living, yet once recorded they begin to behave strangely. A kind of internal weather appears.

As with the previous album, Joe remains attentive to what is often overlooked, irrelevant or discarded. The hallways, with their scuffs and signage, their coded access and polite functionalism, provide an unexpectedly rich field. The ambience is not shaped by storms or scaffolding, not by birds or street spill. Instead the material is the building’s own breath, its mechanical rhythms, the low frequency traces of neighbours, the occasional shuffle of footsteps that pass but do not return.

Joe talks about this record as a possible middle chapter in a trilogy. If so, it sits between the exposed openness of the balcony and whatever comes next. A hinge point. These recordings continue Joe’s long practice of defamiliarization, sharpening attention to the unnoticed while withholding narrative. They invite repeated listening, not for revelation, but for the subtle shifts that occur when a familiar space is treated as an instrument.

Peter Rehberg is known for his pioneering electronic work with computer software which over time evolved into a modular set up alongside running MEGO and then Editions Mego labels.

Rehberg was a prolific collaborator, with other musicians and with contemporary dance and theatre productions, most notably with French artist and choreographer, Gisèle Vienne with whom he created a series of soundtracks from Showroomdummies, released under the name DACM in 2002 (Showroomdummies MEGO 056), to Crowd in 2017. A collection of Rehberg’s solo works for Vienne was released in 2008 (Work for GV 2004-2008 EMEGO 092). The outfit KTL, with Stephen O’Malley, was initiated by Gisèle Vienne for her work Kindertotenlieder and subsequently made a series of soundtracks for Vienne’s works branching off into a prolific series of live shows. The work Rehberg did for theatre and performance teased out aspects of his practice one may not have encountered in his own solo work as PITA or that of collaborations with other musicians.

Editions Mego is proud to present a previously unreleased theatre soundtrack made for Icelandic choreographer Margrét Sara Guðjónsdóttir, whom Rehberg had a decade long collaboration with until his untimely passing in 2021. The original composition for Liminal States was created by Rehberg for the performance Pervasive Magnetic Stimuli in 2018 and then revisited as a catalyst for the concepts behind Liminal States. This work is based on an ongoing artistic research conducted by the choreographer into altered states of perception through phenomenological embodiment. It is the last in a trilogy dealing with the notion of larger forces that act on us beyond our conscious mind. The trilogy consists of Pervasive Magnetic Stimuli (2018), Boundless Ominous Fields (2024) and now Liminal States (2024).

Rehberg's score for Liminal States is a vast canvas of spectral ambience at once tangible and unfathomable in its constantly shapeshifting lysergic dread. The results are a psychological journey through the mental effects of sound on space and subsequently the mind. The first part presents cascading waves of shimmering electronics laying the groundwork for the second part where the psychological illusion splinters into all manner of sonic effects taking the listener on a deep mental voyage. If references are witnessed the late period long form hallucinatory works of Coil, such as Time Machines and Constant shallowness leads to evil, are amongst a similar mind message delivered here. Unlike any other release in Rehberg’s output Liminal States is a single long form work which, despite the form, retains Rehberg’s idiosyncratic sound vision.

Guðjónsdóttir and Rehberg’s collaboration blurs that relationship into a greater force which truly enables the theme of liminal states to unfold in a brave new fashion. Rich in timbre and sonic invention this is powerful work easily holding its own outside of the intended performance whilst still complimenting the missions statement entirely. This profound collaboration has the cumulative effect where the concept and soundtrack are one and may be one of the strongest works in the entire Rehberg canon.

‘Get A Life, Listen To Autumns’ is a statement that tells you everything you need to know about the quality and attitude of the Irish producer’s latest EP. His DNO debut presents five tracks of steel-studded EBM and industrial run through with his trademark dub aesthetics.

A1 ‘100 Ways To Get Fucked’ — another bold title — struts its stuff to a methodical stomp; strained vocals pulled out of shape and fed back into macabre forms; low-end chugging like some smoke-billowing, grease-slicked machine.
‘Let It Melt’ picks up the pace, making judicious use of the reverse function, while subtle acid chirps and woozy arpeggios provide a chaotic, though not unpleasant, dissonance that induces a feeling of headrush.
‘Petted’ swaggers like sex incarnate, alongside snatches of diva vox and the kind of sweeping space-age pads that Holst might have used had he been born a century later, seemingly taking cues from the hot and sweaty nights of ’80s Chicago.

Over on the B-side, ‘LDRO’ sets its kicks and snares thrusting at full tilt over an inexorable bassline; Autumns’ favourite effect, delay, keeping things squelching like the jellified flesh of a ballistics dummy.
And to finish, ‘God’s Gift’ drops down to a sludgy rhythm — though with surprisingly spritely percussion — to match its tortured guitar, shrieking horns, and deadly subs. A fever dream of twisted metal and hot breath, like the gradual slowing after the climax of debauchery.

Marking a sultry new route for DNO, Autumns’ first for the label is confident, confrontational, and
not to be missed.

Rhythms of postmodern realism at the very bottom of the DNO.

Clear Vinyl. Luxurious jacket with embossed logo and details plus cut-out on the side. Explore an emotional sci-fi game with a unique blend of survival, adventure, and base-building elements. Help the sole survivor of an ill-fated space expedition create alternative versions of himself to escape a hostile planet and tackle personal turmoils with this unconventional crew. 11 bit studios, the creators of the award-winning games This War of Mine and Frostpunk, present The Alters, an ambitious sci-fi survival game with a unique twist. You play as Jan Dolski, the lone survivor of a crash-landed expedition on a hostile planet. To survive, you must form a new crew for your mobile base. Using a substance called Rapidium, you create alternative versions of Jan -The Alters- each one shaped by a different crucial decision from the protagonist's past. The one-of-a-kind soundtrack for The Alters was created by Piotr Musial best known for his compositions for games like The Witcher, Frostpunk and This War of Mine. For The Alters, Musial chose to stray from the obvious path when it comes to this genre of games and head for something more original: "While many sci-fi soundtracks these days favor the sound of analog synths, the idea behind the music of The Alters was a bit different. We wanted the music to feel more untraditional and mix digital, glitchy elements, unstable reverb with organic sounds, all of which together could support this unique story." With this approach, Musial dove deep into the world of The Alters to turn abstract ideas and atmospheres in very concrete music: "We aimed for the planet to feel overwhelmingly strange and hostile at first. The music starts as more abstract and based on dense atmospheric sound design. Our circular base, a place of safety and comfort inspired to create a theme that 'goes round' by a repeating leitfmotif. You will always feel at home there, unless there's something bad happening, and that's where the theme will get changed, broken." Musial further explains: "One of the key elements we get to discover in the game is the Rapidium crystal. A strange mineral, with yet unexplored properties. We felt like it could have its own theme too, and therefore, wherever you find it, it 'sings' to you with it's strange, bassy voice, supported by a trace of live recorded strings, that were digitally destroyed to create this translucent texture, that sound unlike the real thing. A glitch crystal, is what they call it after all. But the more we explore the planet, the more the story we uncover. We wanted the music to gradually gain momentum and show the leitfmotifs more often, guiding you through emotional moments, fun moments, tough ones, reaching a grand finale. I hope you'll enjoy this ride." Enjoy playing and listening to The Alters!

OOOOH! by Alex Bad Baby Lukashevsky with Cocoa Corner (2025)

Celebrated veteran of Toronto’s music scene, known for his boundary-pushing approach to folk and avant-garde music, twists rock music into strange and brilliant new shapes with the help of young jazz players, U.S. Girls, and his own immensely talented son.



OOOOH! is hard on the outside and soft on the inside. Made in the spirit of unity,
humanity, and poetry — disobediently renouncing the glory of personal triumph for the
generosity of an honest experiment. On the last track of the album you’ll hear “Or do you only ever never want to make a single enemy? / That’s not freedom or humility / It’s nothing, honestly.” Oooh, that's a bad baby!

A celebrated Toronto songwriter and performer, Alex Lukashevsky has always been disobedient. Which simply means, nothing is off the table when he’s looking for his
poetic voice; when trying to find the realest I of the teller. As he sings on the lead track “that musician that’s dead” The musician is radical/ it’s the world that’s demented/ listening with their eyes, the music looks dented/ they’re over-represented.
OOOOH! was recorded in January 2024 at Sound Department in Toronto, engineered by Patrick Lefler (ROY), mixed by Grammy-nominated producer Matt Smith. All the songs were tracked live off the floor in two days, with one extra day for recording vocals, to keep the recording fully alive and breathing. As leader of Deep Dark United, as a solo performer, and a sideman in Brodie Wests’ Eucalyptus and Luka Kuplowsky’s Ryokan Band, Alex has been an outsized influence on the Toronto music scene that spawned acts like Broken Social Scene and Owen Pallett. (Pallett, who has toured with Lukashevsky, went so far as to record an entire album’s worth of Alex’s songs, backed
by a full orchestra.)

Lukashevsky has approached each of his albums and projects as something completely new, using only the musical boundaries he creates with each song. Even when he
has recorded songs with nothing but his voice and his own acoustic guitar accompaniment, the results are never “stripped down” or “back to basics,”
Gong! How do you get to heaven / have fun! have fun!
It’s cool to approach music as a game of “spot the influence”; Burt Bacharach-meets-Black Flag; Lana Del Rey-meets-LCD Soundsystem etc. Glorified mash-ups are promising because of their conversational nature. But they can turn us into hyperboreans; blowing cold air beyond ourselves while doing what we can to remain warm. To devise a game or a narrative is to have a winner and a loser, but we all know that just as you win/ so you lose. And does anything really change? Alex Lukashevsky and Cocoa Corner are more at ease drawing blind contours or playing an old game like consequences. They let things add up without knowing particularly how. Cognition is recognition.

Lukashevsky, in addition to writing all the songs, plays guitar and sings on OOOOH!, doing both in ways that are soulful and spikey at the same time. Joining him on guitar and vocals is his oldest child, Charlie Lukashevsky, who, at 23, is already a talented performer and songwriter in his own right. Cocoa Corner also includes Aidan McConnell, an in-demand drummer and composer, Jack Johnston, a jazz bassist and Barry Harris acolyte, and percussionist Evan Cartwright (The Weather Station, U.S. Girls, Cola, Tasseomancy), who plays steel pan and marching drum.

Working with his son and with other younger musicians is central to the album’s
unpredictable aesthetic. It reinvigorated the sound in unexpected ways. Lukashevsky says, “I had to reconsider my own instincts. I had to deal with being 99 years old.”
In addition to these performers, the album includes a tasty contribution from Meg
Remy, the visionary musician and producer who is the leader of the critically acclaimed
project U.S. Girls. Remy duets with Lukashevsky on the imagistic and sprawling album
closer “things keep happening.”
About that album title: OOOOH! is taken straight from “that musician that’s dead” an
arch and unhinged comment on the exertion required to navigate a lifetime of music making.
Lukashevsky’s delivery of that one emotive word is a kind of cultural posture, but also a
hundred percent primitive expression. The impact is never less than visceral. His vocal
delivery ranges through rich baritone blues to keening falsettos to a kind of sprechstimme that periodically steps out from the music to grab the listener’s shirt. He
doesn’t sound too nice, but he is sincere. When life gives you lemons lament.
For OOOOH! his first official full-length album since 2012’s Too Late Blues, (a collection of knotty-yet-effervescent tunes built upon the enchantingly serpentine harmonies of Lukashevsky and his vocal collaborators, Felicity Williams (Bahamas, Bernice) and Daniela Gesundheit (Snowblink, HYDRA)), Alex has once again broken apart and rebuilt his own approach to music. Or rather (because that sounds too over-determined), he
has allowed his music to build itself into strange new shapes that only fleetingly and
coincidentally, but happily, resemble anything that might be called rock and roll. There is some editorializing within the song’s lyrics— Lukashevsky even cheekily contributes to the “spot the influence” game with the line “Muddy Waters, Rite of Spring!” a funny preemptive strike against anyone already reaching for some variation of avant-blues to describe what the song is up to here. In fact there are many names checked on this record (literally and in spirit); they are the lily pads that trace the path of this expression! Palestrina, Peter Pears and Benjamin Brittain, Andrés Segovia, Stravinsky, Lotte Lenya, Alice Coltrane, Skip James, Chuck Berry, D’Gary, Betty Carter, Mukhtiyar Ali, Chuck D, Yoko Ono, Hailu Mergia, David Bowie, Jane Siberry. rhythm is a skeleton mansion / haunted by melody / feckless prodigy / the world is under a spell / cast by some demon angel / Practice day and night / Try as hard as hell / no one can sing that well Musicians are often worried by the way in which they are prepared to fail rather
than how they would like to succeed; it’s such a deep concern that it tempers their creativity and shackles their process. Current cultural proclivities, tend to comfort a certain kind of artistic failure and abnegate another kind. How many testimonials, full of heartfelt care and investment, have you heard for Taylor Swift, and yet a craftsman like Chris Weisman is often dismissed easily as though he’s doing something anti-social. what’s throwing itself in my ears and my eyes / arrogant devil ad hominem christ.
The music you will hear on this recording veers off in multiple directions at once,
and features a rock and roll spirit with a divergent heart. This is no sclerotic clomp of the Average Rock Song, but in fact a flood of humanity in all its darkness and moodiness and unpredictability. If most performers make songs that are like sports cars or pickup trucks to drive around, Lukashevsky has built something more akin to a rowboat in a tree: it’s weird and beautiful.

To mark the 20th anniversary of his cult classic debut album We Have Sound, multi-instrumentalist and creative iconoclast Tom Vek releases We Have Sound Remixed today via StrataSonic Records — a 10-track remix album in its original order that reimagines the influential original for a new era.

Led by remix singles from Dave Glass Animals, Everything Everything, and IS TROPICAL, the project is complete with a stacked lineup whose own sonic identities trace back to Vek’s genre-hopping, DIY spirit — including alt-J, Baths, Porij, and more.

We Have Sound is widely credited as one of the seminal albums that pioneered indie electronic music. Dave Bayley of Glass Animals calls the album “one of several responsible for us going on to make our music.” Gus Unger-Hamilton of alt-J adds, “I’ve loved this album since I was fifteen. Paul Epworth’s ‘Phones’ version opened my eyes to the art of the remix.”

We Have Sound Remixed, is a rare kind of tribute, curated by Vek himself, with each artist handpicked and invited to reinterpret the record that helped shape their creative DNA. The result is a celebration of We Have Sound not only as a pivotal album of the 2000s, but as a blueprint for the fusion of guitar music, DIY electronica, and sharp-edged pop that now defines a generation of UK and alternative acts. The project cements Tom Vek’s role as a cult figure whose music remains current — and deeply influential — two decades on.

Russell Haswell and Florian Hecker have both a long history with Mego/Editions Mego. Individual releases have peppered the Mego catalogue since Haswell’s Live Salvage 1997->2000 cd release (MEGO 012) in 2001 and the debut Hecker release IT ISO161975 (MEGO 014) in 1998.

The individual exploration of sonic phenomena by these two practitioners has resulted in both being highly regarded for their uncompromising approach to sound as matter. Russell Haswell and Florian Hecker came together as a collaborative duo with the now-legendary record Blackest Ever Black, somewhat inexplicably, on the classical imprint of Warner Brothers.

In 2025, Hecker and Haswell return with a new album featuring the two-channel edit produced initially for their UPIC DIFFUSION SESSION #23, performed as a live diffusion across 8-channels at the X100 Festival, Berlin, 2023, celebrating the 100th anniversary of Xenakis' birth.

This record furthers the duo's exploration of Xenakis's UPIC system as the sole instrument. The UPIC is a computer music system that generates sound from visual input. The original intention of the system developed by Xenakis was to make a utopian tool for producing new sounds accessible to all, independent of formal training. One can locate footage of Xenakis and a group of children making drawings for the system in the 70's.

The duo set off experimenting with a diverse array of hand-drawn images to feed the UPIC system including news photographs of disasters and atrocities, "food porn" through to depictions of the natural world and microscopic images of molecular structures (including 'the blackest ever black'). The resulting eccentric audio from these images is claimed by the artists to heighten synaesthesia and is as mysterious as it is baffling.

Throughout UPIC DIFFUSION SESSION #23 frequency clusters move and morph in the most unusual manner, shifting and stretching into shapes that hint at some kind of magical process. What starts out deceptively simple soon unravels into a large array of sonic mayhem. Symbolic jet planes are shredded by a swarm of insects, a metal bowl howls into the void, a tiny tin toy crawls into a thicket with the resolute aura of a black hole. A burning geyser of laser forms liquid shrapnel. This is sound as an alchemical process, a constant chimerical flow into the netherworld and is the net result of the decades long radical investigations by the two artists involved. UPIC DIFFUSION SESSION #23 is a direct, rich and rewarding listen for those willing to invest time into the outer limits.

Students of Decay presents The Dip, a new full-length recording by Berlin-based artist and composer Thomas Ankersmit, marking his debut with the label and sixth album to date. Comprised of two expansive, sidelong pieces composed entirely on the Serge Modular synthesizer, it signals a subtle yet significant shift in Ankersmit’s trajectory, imbuing the hyper-physical, psychoacoustic intensities of his live performances with introspective, atmospheric, and even melodic elements.

Primarily known for a site-responsive approach to sound, often realized in the moment of performance, Ankersmit’s turn toward the studio in the last few years has opened up a new dimension within his practice. It is in this quiet rupture that The Dip emerged, a study in internality and suspended states, rich with cinematic undercurrents and ghostly spatial suggestion. Here, electricity itself feels transfigured – becoming supple, even organic – within an environment shaped entirely by analog signals.

Over the past two decades, Ankersmit has established himself as one of the foremost practitioners of the Serge, the notoriously idiosyncratic and expressive instrument that has remained central to his work. On The Dip, he harnesses its potential not for brute force or disorientation, but for spaciousness, resonance, and lyrical abstraction. Without resorting to additional processing or effects, he draws out tones that feel simultaneously raw and refined, articulated and blurred – intricate structures that seem to breathe and evolve of their own volition.

The result is a kind of auditory hallucination, a “cinema for the ears,” wherein impressions, emotional arcs, and imagined topographies unfold. Each side of The Dip plays like a single gesture unfolding in time – a spatial narrative constructed through vibration, density, and the movement of air.

The Dip follows acclaimed works on PAN, Touch, and Shelter Press, and reaffirms Thomas Ankersmit’s position as one of the most focused and probing voices in contemporary experimental music. Quietly radical and meticulously constructed, it is less a departure than a deepening – a descent into a more private sonic world, where the boundaries between perception, memory, and pure signal dissolve.

“The hand knows best,” the painter Margaux Williamson says. “A shape produces itself, where I go toward what is intuitive, rather than logical.” The shapely, intuitive songs that comprise Ada Lea's third album, when i paint my masterpiece, are surprising, imagistic, tactile. They stand before us and we feel their brushstrokes. Alexandra Levy holds her guitar against the backdrop of a sea of her paintings on the album cover and it’s tempting to ask: is painting a metaphor here, for music or life? No! As ever, she resists tidy metaphors. She’s a master of this kind of thorny lowercase title that germinates and grows with time. In a real, profound way, music and painting go hand-in-hand as she unveils a new style of subversion and surrealism inspired by her transdisciplinarity.

Levy is a Renaissance woman, and Ada Lea’s albums have been swelling in scope alongside the evolution of her artistic life. Her recent turn toward pedagogy—teaching a songwriting course at Concordia University and co-facilitating a community-based group called The Songwriting Method—weaves another vivid thread into her multifaceted practice. Her debut LP, what we say in private, blurred the lines between interior and performative worlds. Her sophomore record, one hand on the steering wheel the other sewing a garden, featured vignettes centered on Montreal. On this sprawling and ambitious album, written over three years and whittled down from over 200 songs, she asks: what happens when you… pause? How can a life be held suspended in song? The album is a kaleidoscopic exploration of the transformations art can bring: the vision of an uncompromising artist dancing bravely and freely between registers and across mediums.

The album marks a reset—a quiet revolution. After years of relentless international touring, Levy felt an urgent need for community and renewal. Gruelling road schedules with very little support left her wondering: who am I really doing all this for? The system was uncaring and broken, and so it was that she came to envision a new healthy and healing mode of musical genesis. “For me, that looked like resting, extending my creative reach, going back to school, studying painting and poetry,” she explains. “Taking a step away from music as guided by industry expectations. Simplifying things. Getting a job, starting to teach. Engaging with the process rather than the product.” This need for a more deliberate creative renewal was rejected by her existing systems of support, so she began the search for an alternative.

Vines, the solo project of New York-based multi-instrumentalist and composer Cassie Wieland, offers a window into her inner world through expansive swaths of sound. She pieces together a celestial mix of synths, percussion, strings, and vocoded voice, making music that is at once deeply personal and cinematic in scope. This diaristic approach first took shape with her 2023 EP Birthday Party, and is crystallized on her debut LP, I’ll be here. With the sweeping and vulnerable I’ll be here, Vines arrives fully formed as an artist who crafts deeply resonant and open music–the kind that invites listeners in to listen, reflect, and share in the journey of learning through living.

“It was through making music that I was able to meet myself,” Wieland said. “Anything I’m going through or feeling is something that somebody else out there can relate to, and that’s really special to me.”

I’ll be here is both a culmination of years spent creating gossamer soundscapes and an opening to a new journey for Wieland as an artist. The album grew out of her years as a composer and songwriter, and builds on the language she developed on Birthday Party, which transformed the tumultuous feelings of the passing of time into minimalist meditations. It was just a start, though–a prologue, a development of the kind of language and ideas she wanted to express. With I’ll be here, she digs deeper and writes music that feels more sprawling, further solidifying her singular voice.

Wieland’s musical composition process is similar to journaling, lending itself to the music’s honesty. When she writes, she makes room for all the ideas she has; in these sessions, there are no wrong ideas, and she allows the music to be attuned to the experiences she’s having at the time. With I’ll be here, Wieland zeroes in on themes of anxiety, loneliness, navigating human connection, and having to grow up from a young age, ultimately coming to a place of acceptance. And though it began as a journal written in solitude, her collaborators shape the music with her.

Working with friends, in fact, was a crucial part of bringing the record to life. “Everything that was supposed to happen came together so easily because of the people involved,” Wieland said. I’ll be here was co-produced and recorded with Wieland’s longtime collaborator Mike Tierney, a four time Grammy-nominated engineer who has worked with artists across the contemporary classical and experimental scene like minimalist pioneer Steve Reich, LA’s preeminent classical ensemble Wild Up, and various bands on Bang on a Can’s Cantaloupe Music label. Percussionist and composer Adam Holmes and violinist Adrianne Munden-Dixon are two other longtime collaborators who are frequent fixtures of her live show. Holmes plays synths, drums, and banjo; in live settings, his kit is loaded with elements of the songs that are then triggered by MIDI, making the music an interactive, evolving experience. The album’s gentle, filamented edges are colored by Munden-Dixon, whose poignant string melodies elevate Wieland’s introspective compositions, as well as cellist Helen Newby, saxophonists Julian Velasco and Jordan Lulloff, and bassist Pat Swoboda.

Wieland takes an economic approach to writing music, building the swirling and immersive landscapes of Vines through short melodies, lyrics, and phrases. As each element layers and interweaves, they grow into sprawling webs of ghostly sound. Prior to Vines, Wieland composed pieces for other people to play using a minimalist’s sensibility, writing slowly unfolding melodies for instruments like violin and saxophone. In recent years, she sharpened her solo style across a variety of singles and covers which have garnered significant attention on social media for their emotional resonance (“being loved isn't the same as being understood” in particular went massively viral on TikTok in 2024). Birthday Party, her debut as Vines, brought her writing to a much more intimate space, centering on her vocoded voice cloaked in feathery reverb. A series of recent singles, meanwhile, including “I am my home,” showcase the way that Wieland’s music is born from the story of her innermost feelings, extending far beyond just the self.

Though Wieland’s music often deals with dark themes, it unfolds with tender melancholy, the kind that feels like a warm embrace. On “Evicted,” Wieland wonders if she’s getting sick or moving on, if she’s lost or found. Her vocals expand with each lyrical repetition, as the instrumentals slowly encircle and the music’s rhythm grows and bursts into a heart-wrenching, yet radiant wave reminiscent of post-rock bands like Explosions in the Sky. “Tired” follows a similar trajectory, building from a looping, melancholy rhythm and floating lyrics into a solemn resignation. Elsewhere, Wieland takes a more ruminative approach: “Omw” begins with twinkling piano and melancholy strings that gradually transform into an undulating mass. It is a song born out of the warm feeling of reminiscence, the slight return of hope that comes with nostalgia.

With any searching journey, there is also a point of understanding. The title track closes the album with the freedom of acceptance. A marching drum beats steadily beneath Wieland’s open vocals, moving forward, ever onward as it flies into the ether. In Wieland’s delicately textured music, there is room to come into yourself, and learn to love whomever that is. I’ll be here is a special space that can be all your own, one in which to feel what needs to be felt. “This is music for your story,” Wieland said. “I want you to use it how you need it.”

3XL boss and scene hyper-connector Special Guest DJ (aka uon, shy, Caveman LSD) lands on their own label with a debut album of hazed ambient noise and aquatic club anarchitextures, with a patented, heady style bent into new shapes.

For nigh on a decade, Berlin-based American producer, label boss, promoter and DJ Shy has operated at the centre of a scene that's still not fully defined. Their mythical DJ sets, where you're likely to hear precision-tweaked dubstep, dreampop, decelerated rap and dubwise ambient blended into vapour; gives some sense of the vibes at play, and a comb thru their spiderweb of a catalog - as Caveman LSD or uon, as part of Ghostride the Drift, Hoodie, crimeboys, virtualdemonlaxative and Cypher, or as the figurehead of 3XL, Experiences Ltd, xpq? and bblisss labels - further blurs that gist.

They've been caught in the crossfire of Big Ambient, sure, but there's always been something scrappier, sexier and more present going on under the hood. Shy and his network of associates - Huerco, Ulla, Perila, Ben Bondy, Naemi/Exael, Ponteac Streator and Arad Acid, among others - have asserted the interrelatedness of their discrete approaches. So-called "ambient" music doesn't exist in a vacuum, it un-focuses elements that undergird so many more corporeal sounds, and for Shy, their music reflects the druggy, DIY, genre-agnostic ethos of a trans-Atlantic neo-punk underground that exists in some liminal zone between the club, the bedsit and the basement.

Concerned with themes of “anger, sensuality, and dreaming”, the 40 minute roil of ‘Our Fantasy Complex’ frames Special Guest DJ at their most unapologetically oblique and illusive, expanding and contracting between whorls of shoegazing dynamics and extended portions of quasi-speed D&B x dub tech smeared on the mind’s-eye, with a vivid sense of bruised lushness that’s perfused all shy’s work thus far.

Joined by kindred collaborators Ben Bondy, Arad Acid and mu tate, and suspended in agitated bliss by Rashad Becker’s lucid mastering, the results feel out some of 2025’s most considered and distinctive within an amorphous zone that’s become a world unto itself. Ambient music’s fluffier signifiers are swapped out for a sort of sublime tension that, like the sound’s original ‘90s explosion, can be heard to reflect states of altered consciousness - both individual and collective.

Shy's layered, undulating productions are more like the chewed remnants of a thousand mixtapes cooked into a stream-of-consciousness hex. Save for the glistening, zoomed-out parting piece ‘Dream’, it all mostly avoids pretty melodies in favour of a spatio-textural sensuality that wraps us up, sometimes uncomfortably intimately, in shy’s thoughts. That oneiric closer is one of three gritty palate cleansers that swirl around its peaks, where elements of Reese-bass are suspended, writhing below looming atmospheric pressure in ‘How Long Can I Burn?’, emerging charred and flecked with rattled percussion on ‘Yoro (pt I & II)’, as though K-holing thru a blazing summer’s day.

In step with Perila’s notably darker turn of events on her ‘Omnis Festinatio Ex parts Diaboli Est’, album, or the unexpected ferocity of recent Space Afrika live shows, it’s not hard to hear a darkside gravitational pull on this one, where ambient music is no longer just a balm for troubled souls, but also suggestive of humanity’s most frightful odours.

REPRESS

New Delhi-based Peter Cat Recording Co. will release their debut album, ‘Bismillah’ on June 14, 2019 via French independent label Panache Records. Debut UK live shows are soon also to be announced by the band.


Peter Cat Recording Co. could almost have a question mark on the end of its name. Not least as founder & frontman Suryakant Sawhney refuses to explain where that name really comes from or what it means (perhaps a reference to the Tokyo jazz club owned by Haruki Murakami), but also since the very existence of the band itself raises a raft of questions. When was the last time we fell for an indie rock band for the right reasons? Not because the band in question nostalgically imitate a perceived ‘golden age’ but because they innately embody the fundamentals of such music: fantasy, sincerity and the freedom to make music without rules or career aspi- rations. And when was the last time this kind of band sounded like Sinatra, Barry White, the sweetest doo-wop, humid fanfares and a psychedelic wedding band, all at once? And all of this coming from India?
In truth, the story of Peter Cat Recording Co. was written within the triangle of San Francisco, Delhi and Paris.
In the first of these cities, Sawhney (a native of Delhi) pitched up to study film-making. More distracted by the city’s peaking live scene of the early noughties, this is where he started to make music and to sketch out an idea for the band.“
The people I lived with supported my idea of writing music, they introduced me to great mu-
sic. There used to be a great garage scene in San Francisco, like The Oh Sees also Ty Seagall, Mikal Conin, all those bands. This is a world I had never seen in my entire life. A big inspiration from San Francisco was that you could record yourself. You don’t need to be in a studio and spend a lot of money to make an album. You can do it”.


At the end of the 2000s, Suryakant returned home to New Delhi, and started his band for real, more or less the same band that plays today. “I wasn’t so concerned about will we be performing, will we be the greatest band, will we be trendy. I just wanted to make something that was consequential and important for us, I think. Something which would last, something people could listen to and be like « this is life changing ». It was for the sake of beauty”.


For the first few years and in India alone, this is exactly what Peter Cat Recording Co. did, in total indifference to the rest of the world. This was until young Parisian label Panache stumbled across the band online via Vice’s THUMP subsidiary, stupefied by the band’s cosmic video for seven-minutes-and-counting track, ‘Love De- mons’. And so in spring of 2018, ‘Portrait Of A Time: 2010-2016’ was released on Panache - making the first international release from Peter Cat Recording Co., bizarrely enough, an anthology of re-mastered, hidden gems from the band’s ramshackle back catalogue, previously recorded in Suryakant’s own living room. With Peter Cat’s off-kilter charm hitherto unheard of beyond the fringes of India, the release provided a gateway op-
Whilst the title track found its way onto Tracks Of The Year lists at the Guardian & NME, it was tricky for new PCRC enthusiasts to get a firm grip on the startling push/pull between the immediate, uncanny music this release gathered, and the cultural backdrop of New Delhi at which it was so startlingly at odds.


Opportunity for a wider fanbase to fall in love with their cloud-like, drunken songs for the first time.
If discovering your favourite new band via a ‘Best Of’ feels a curious premise, then ‘Bismillah’ does more than hint towards the promise of Peter Cat Recording Co’s future. Blending gypsy jazz, psychedelic cabaret, space disco, bossa supernova, Bollywood and uneasy listening with kaleidoscopic ease, in many senses, the band’s knack hasn’t altered. Always different, paradoxical, unpredictable yet somehow familiar. The new album opens to the strains of bird chatter, the whisper of a city’s soundscape and the first few notes from an instrument which seem to be calling us to the departure lounge, a fore-shadow of the flight ‘Bismillah’ launches its listener
on. Suryakant sings with the detached, rueful elegance of Sinatra marooned on a desert island, whilst his band create small space-time capsules which navigate their way through genres and eras – including the future – and between nostalgia and eccentricity.


Peter Cat recently trailed ‘Bismillah’ with the release of ‘Floated By’, an appositely titled musing on failure & missed opportunities, punctuated by the fulsome brass section which weaves through so much of the album.


The languid, blue quality to the track is offset by the attendant music video, created with footage shot, implau- sibly enough, at Suryakant’s own marriage ceremony (needless to say, the wedding band hired for the day was of course, Peter Cat Recording Co.) Sawhney dryly notes; “Hopefully it’s not a many-a-times-in-a-lifetime event. You can’t fake that set, those people actually having a good time, being really emotional and intense.” ‘Bismillah’’s colour-drenched album cover also captures Suryakant’s father-in-law making his wedding toast on that same day - a nod back towards the cover of ‘Portrait Of A Time’, itself a black & white image taken at the wedding ceremony of Suryakant’s own father.


A stumbling but gracious collection of songs rooted in a kind of drunken soul music, the melancholy nature of some of the songs on ‘Bismillah’ renders them almost liquid, before they develop into more dance-like shapes. Suryakant’s rangy voice swoops from the falsetto glide of ‘I’m This’ to the beat-up baritone blown along by the warm breeze of ‘Soulless Friends’. The elliptical structure of album opener ‘Where The Money Flows’ also al-
lows for the use of brief bursts of autotune effect on his vocal without feeling incongruous, whilst the desultory lyrics of ‘Heera’ (a Hindi word for diamond) - sharing something with the Morricone school of grand storytelling - have an emotional weight that would impress even coming from a native English speaker. Perhaps the most gleefully unpredictable moment on ‘Bismillah’ comes with the illusory, vocal loops on the intro to ‘Memory Box’, errupting into 8 exhilarating minutes worth of unbridled, string-backed disco joy. A cat might have nine lives, but on ‘Bismillah’ and beyond, Peter Cat Recording Co. are hinting towards an un- knowable multitude of dimensions. Throw them all together, and it equates less to a listening experience and more to an out-of-body experience.


Peter Cat Recording Co. are: Suryakant Sawhney (vocals/guitar/organ), Dhruv Bhola (bass), Kartik S Pillai (organ/guitar/electronics), Rohit Gupta (horns), Karan Singh (drums)

James Holvay is a key figure in the world of Chicago soul, whose songwriting helped shape the sound of the '60s alongside icons like Curtis Mayfield. Known for penning four Top Ten hits for The Buckinghams — including the million-selling US #1 "Kind of a Drag" — Holvay's influence runs deep. His career began on the road with The Chicagoans before co-founding The MOB, one of the first horn-driven rock and soul bands. With releases on legendary labels like Chess, Constellation, and Onederful, Holvay's work captured the heart of the Windy City's rich musical scene. His music has been championed on influential stations like WLS Chicago and earned him spots in the South Dakota Rock 'n' Roll Hall of Fame and the Lyons Township High School Hall of Fame.

Now, LRK Records proudly presents two new tracks, "Love That Lady" and "Don't Take Your Love", on a limited-edition 45. Drawing from his Chicago soul roots and a Curtis Mayfield-inspired sound, these songs bring that timeless, heartfelt groove to modern listeners. With the growing appetite for vintage soul, this release is essential for collectors, DJs, and fans of classic soul music.

ENG Mamalarky thrive in the in-between, a tri-coastal outfit straddling Atlanta, Austin, and Los Angeles, crafting a sound that feels both meticulously constructed and effortlessly unspooled. Their brand of indie rock is delightfully askew-swirling psych flourishes meet wiry guitar tangents, all anchored by tender, off-kilter hooks that burrow deep. It"s music that invites you into its strange little universe, full of inside jokes and late-night musings turned into melodic gold. Their sophomore effort, Hex Key - marking their Epitaph Records debut-lands in April, with plenty of mileage ahead as they road-test new material. A spring tour includes a run with Hinds and a stop at Treefort Music Fest, where their shape-shifting sonics will no doubt translate into hypnotic, full-bodied chaos. Formed in Austin in 2016, Mamalarky"s lineup has since scattered across time zones, but their chemistry remains unmistakable. Guitarist Livvy Bennett (formerly of Cherry Glazerr), keyboardist Michael Hunter (White Denim), drummer Dylan Hill, and bassist Noor Khan (Faye Webster"s touring bassist) operate like a band that"s spent years finishing each other"s musical sentences. Their songwriting thrives on kinetic interplay-nimble and restless, yet always landing in some deeply satisfying pocket. While indie-pop might be the easiest tag to slap on them, Mamalarky dodge the genre"s more predictable trappings. Instead of settling into breezy melancholy, they embrace complexity-knotty time signatures, rubbery basslines, and melodies that feel like they"re winking at you. It"s heady but never pretentious, the kind of music that rewards repeat listens, each spin revealing a new hidden corner.

LP + insert. A cosmically poetic duo playing Afro-Roots-Electro with a clear nod to spiritual jazz. Esinam Dogbatse (flute, synths, vocals, fx, percussion) | Sibusile Xaba (guitar, vocals, percussion).



ESINAM & Sibusile Xaba is a meeting of nomadic, wandering and kindred spirits in music. Both artists draw upon their ancestry: Belgian-Ghanaian(ESINAM) and Kwazulu Natal-South Africa (Sibusile Xaba) through a unique connection, a deep artistic and spiritual level, they use rhythms and grooves to translate stories to the audience. Their vocal chanting enhances trance to rhythmic patterns that grace us by melodies of the future and past.

On April 25th 2025, ESINAM & Sibsile Xaba will release their first joint album entitled 'Healing Voices'.

This album is a reflection of the kaleidoscopic multitude of musical inspirations running through the veins of two very talented solo artists. Both multi-instrumentalists, they provide many different layers to their music. Each track is a reflection of their cross-pollination. Musically inspired by Ghanaian Highlife and traditional songs from Zulu and Ewe culture, but with a distinct contemporary interpretation where their acoustic sound is enhanced by electronic gadgets.

As multi-instrumentalists, the two artists translate messages from their ancestors through rhythms and grooves. Their vocal chanting enhances trance to rhythmic patterns that grace us by melodies of the future and past.

Thanks to their Belgian-Ghanaian and South-African roots, they are unique in their being, strong in their union and connected on deep artistic and spiritual levels. The collaboration between ESINAM and Sibusile Xaba is bringing healing to body and soul.

In 2018 Esinam discovered Sibusile Xaba during his European (solo)tour. She was enchanted by his musical energy and craftsmanship and invited him as a vocal guest feature on the track 'Flowing River', from her debut album 'Shapes in Twilights of infinity'. When she was asked at the first edition of WOMAD Festival in South Africa if she wanted to collaborate with a 'local artist', she didn't have to think twice.

So in October 2022, Esinam and Sibusile seized this opportunity to dive into the rehearsal and recording studio, and discover and combine each other's musical universes to shape up new music together.

In May 2023 this collaboration continued with rehearsals, recordings and a first European tour with performances in Belgium, The Netherlands, France, Germany and Slovenia.

In March 2024 they released the first single 'Africa Wola' out of the fothcoming album. In November 2024, they released a remix of their first single by South-African DJ and producer DaCapo and played at Visa for Music in Morocco.

Whether Re-defining Experimental Fusion Sounds With The Hugley Acclaimed Yussef Kamaal, Or His Catalogue Of 12's For Imprints Such As Mcde, Eglo, And Rhythm Section As Henry Wu, South London's Kamaal Williams Has Been A Key Figure In His Thriving International Scene For The Past Few Years. The Return Is A Natural Evolution From The Yussef Kamaal Project, Mining The Influence Of Visionary Jazz But Blended With All Kinds Of Texture, Sounds And Signals From The Over-saturated London Streets.
At Times The Keyboard Work Evokes The Classic 70s Fusion Work Of Lonnie Liston Smith Or Roy Ayers, But Underpinned By Rhythms More Reminiscent Of Blunted Hip-hop And Arrangements Subliminally Laced With The Cut-ups Of Pirate Radio. Progressive, Funky, Cosmic, Exploratory And Effortlessly Musical, This Is The Sound Of A Musician Honing Their Craft Into Thrilling New Shapes.
In The Us The Like Of Kamasi Washington And Thundercat Have Made Great Strides In Opening A Whole New Dialogue Between Jazz And Hip-hop, Drawing In A Young, Highly Engaged New Audience In The Process. Kamaal Williams Mine A Similar Seam On The Other Side Of The Atlantic Alongside Other Exciting London Talents Such As Ezra Collective, Ruby Rushton And Shabaka Hutchings.
The Return Is Exactly That: A Return And Refinement To The Sound Yussef Kamaal Were Progenitors Of, And First Set The Scene For One Of The Most Exciting Musical Movements London Has Had In Years.
Notable Tracks For Old And New Listeners Are 'slow', 'situations', 'medina', 'london Shuffle' Which Features Mansur Brown (of Mansur's Message) And For Those Die Hard Yussef Kamaal Fans - They Should Hear The Interpolated Roots Of 'strings Of Light' In The Title Track 'the Return'. And That Signature Wu Funk Can Be Heard On Broken Theme, And High Roller.
The Return Will Be The Debut Album Released On Wu's New Label Black Focus Records.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

In the midst of recording his 12th album 'Why The Worry', wavering in his resolve to finish what he'd started, Seth Walker came to the realization: "This does not define me; this is not who I am forever; this is just a moment" . "Distance colors compositions over the years and each album is left as merely a reflection of its own period in time." The new album finds Walker reunited with old friends and familiar names. Once again Jano Rix steps behind the boards, co-producing the album with Seth and engineer Brook Sutton. In the producer's fifth outing he's become an invaluable sounding board, the kind that knows what's missing and, just as importantly, what needs to be taken away. Oliver Wood (The Wood Brothers) lends a pen to the title track and Seth's classically trained father Scott adds strings to "I'm Getting Ready," a song penned by Walker's contemporary Michael Kiwanuka. Mostly, though, the record was shepherded into shape by Walker's trio, rounded out by longtime confidants Rhees Williams (Guitar, Piano) and Mark Raudabaugh (Drums). The three let the studio guide them, entering without agenda, set straight by the title's mantra to stop worrying where they'd end up.

Chris Ryan Williams (trumpet & electronics) and Lester St. Louis (cello & electronics) work together as HxH (H by H). Their skills have seen them move smoothly across various situations, constantly carving out new terrain and working in new configurations of musicians at a rapid pace. While worth reading, their biographies capture only a part of their complex rhizome.

HxH started about three years ago. The project is a direct response to all their activity with others and more importantly all their future leaning sonic desires. Their debut album STARK PHENOMENA is both their first studio recording and their first physical release. The album is appropriately set to be released by KMRU on his growing label OFNOT. It’s an ideal introduction to their sound world and their approach.

HxH describe their music as “electroacoustic,” but until recently the presence of Black musicians in this field has been greatly overlooked and largely ignored, making this phrase only partially appropriate. What HxH do really is to always be unpredictable. Every gig is a new soundscape. Sometimes you might hear echoes of Autechre or Robert Hood but then the sound-field will open up into a new terrain all their own. Chris and Lester bring together techniques from across the sound spectrum of electronic music and also draw on their deep backgrounds in Jazz, Improvisation, Classical and Noise scenes to create a sound that is true to them. After all, these two have worked with the likes of Bennie Maupin and the music of Black Fluxus artist Ben Patterson. Their rhizome is deep.

One of the ways that their unique approach manifests is in their merging of both acoustic instruments and electronic instruments in real time. This is something few have managed to do – but their spontaneous leanings work in both complex and accessible ways because of their deep understanding of landscape crafting. You can hear this clearly on the track “Pyrex Vision.” Their approach makes it tempting to compare their music to Sun Ra jamming with Laurel Halo – a comparison that would be only partly accurate.

Chris and Lester note that the sounds on STARK PHENOMENA are “imbued with such hopeful, gracious care; one that is far flung from obsessive carefulness or fuck the world carelessness, but more a caring embrace without the fuzziness of nostalgia.”

They note that when they began working together, they would “always come back to speaking on our concepts of an architecture of the expanse,” noting that their live sets often take on the joyfully noisy task of “dreaming big.” For HxH it was essential that STARK PHENOMENA have a quality that is “almost sculptural.” They consider the album “an object to be viewed from all sides.” This kind of thinking has resulted in them directly engaging with numerous sculptors and artists including Torkwase Dyson. Shape wise HxH’s sound fields work in a parallel to Dyson’s black architectural works.

They also note that the opening cut “BEACH” (the opening and longest track from the album) was “written weeks after our first gig in a studio session donated to us by our dear friend jaimie branch.” And that Pyrex Vision “was continually being edited months after sending our ‘final mixes’ to KMRU.” Their sound sources and samples come from studio sessions, live gigs, durational installations, 3am improvised downloads and more.

KMRU notes: "I think there is an in-between layer on this record. I was first caught by the Pyrex Vision track which organically flows between monologue, subtle field recording, and instrumentation. It's such a beautiful track, evoking deep emotion through simplicity. STARK PHENOMENA effortlessly glides in between imaginative mosaics of sounds — free yet complex — unlocking memories within its layers."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"The title track here ebbs and flows in and out of Amen break cascades, as the drones hovering beneath give a sense of flying through an electrical storm. Dooky' is better still, its sparser rhythm recalling Reinforced stalwart Paradox in its ability to be simultaneously woody and ultra-digital, human and alien." THE WIRE

Those who are aware of dgoHn will by now be familiar with his sound and those who aren't should be. Back with his third single on Love Love, the drum maestro makes skin prickle once again with two shining original tracks laced with impeccable moments. Only dgoHn can create the kind of drum and bass that sounds like the tightest of ensembles playing meticulously rehearsed arrangements, painting intricate shapes with the percussion.

The title track takes a fresh look at the amen break, finding ways to breathe new life into it. Soaring above the clouds on thick warm pads, the drums thunder with a blissful rage propelled forwards by a rumbling bassline.

On the B-side 'Dooky' serves up a dgoHn masterclass in spatial control that could well be a future-classic of his. A formidable groove with serious punch, hi-hats skip along as the delicate balance of frequencies gives the listener just enough headspace not to get lost in the deep, dark world it creates. A subtle demonstration of tension and release, this single floats like a butterfly and stings like a bee whilst dripping with funk.

Lastly, Rognvald switches up the title track with a jam that triples the edits and doubles the bass, tipping the scales from the side of restraint to that of chaos without losing the feel of the original. Artwork once again provided by Colin 'Snublic' McCallister.

Oxblood Vinyl

If you’ve followed the global shenanigans of heavier music over the past decades, you know the name Marko Hietala.
And if you don’t, I strongly suggest you go back down the dark rabbit hole and do your homework again. There is no doubt about it: Marko Hietala has been synonymous with quality for more than four decades. Hietala has not only shaped, but also defined the sound of harder rock, as a founding member of the heavy metal band Tarot, as an essential member of the supergroup Sinergy (next to extreme talents such as Alexi Laiho) or as one of the key figures of world’s biggest symphonic metal band Nightwish. Needless to say, his thunderous bass lines and rich vocals have been echoed in the world’s most famous venues, such as Wembley Arena and legendary festivals like Rock in Rio.
However, despite all the achievements, new conquests are coming at a steady pace... Just recently, Marko Hietala has appeared in a starring role in the TV series Vain elämää, which has gathered millions of viewers in Finland.
When it comes to an endlessly talented artist with a strong musical flame in his heart, an eponymous album is always just a matter of time. In the case of Marko Hietala, it took a while, but better late than never: his long-awaited first solo debut, Mustan sydämen rovio, finally arrived to grace the spring of 2019 (later reissued in English as Pyre of the Black Heart) Guess what? Marko Hietala’s musical and lyrical tide has not dried up and the well-received debut is getting the company it deserves. To be released in February 2025, “Roses from the Deep” follows the adventurous path of its predecessor, but perhaps with even greater ambition.
“Sometime in 2017-18, Nightwish took a break – first for about 20 years – and I decided to spend my time working on my first solo album”, I’ve come up with all kinds of ideas over the years, and it was time to get them out of my system. When I set my sight on the album, I didn’t limit myself in any way. If the idea felt good, it was good...” Hietala recalls.

While 1995's Washing Machine LP moniker was a thinly-veiled jab at the corporate aesthetic ("no, you cannot turn Sonic Youth into a household appliance brand", the band even considered changing its name to Washing Machine but settled on the album title instead), their major label relationship was indeed a curious buzzpoint of talk on the street after their intake to DGC in 1990. It wouldn't be fair to say that this state of existence propelled the band to reinforce its independent mindset by releasing a series of opaque-looking, French-language-dipping, highbrow-looking releases on their own that focused on the more abstract improv/compositional side of the band; in all truths they had been heavily steeped in self-releasing spillover material prior to that. But after a pressure pot of the early 90's indoctrination into a new operational mode for the band and its visibility, and the forces around it attempting to shape their direction, it seemed like a good time to create a strong show of radical concept.

The Anagrama EP became the first in a series of the SYR label's Perspective Musicales releases seemingly cementing Sonic Youth's connectivity to an increasing public awareness in experimental composers of the 20th century (French or otherwise). The irony was that many of those original avant composers being rediscovered by the indie audience (Partch, Neuhaus, Reich, Messaien) often found themselves on major labels anyway! So, perhaps this reverse approach was a necessary concept/comment given the music biz climate of the 90's. Regardless of how apples and oranges fell in Xenakian probability/theory, it was clear that both Sonic Youth's stature in progressive music, aided by now unlimited taperoll time thanks to a home base studio downtown established after their Lollapalooza stint, gave the band plenty of trailblazing time for their self examination of untraveled avenues.

"Anagrama" unfolds into nine minutes of delicate textures, starting with thick drone segueing into moments reminiscent of the post-crescendo flutter/comedown of "Marquee Moon's" trail-out; Thurston, Lee and Kim's guitars all circling round each other taking delicate pokes and stabs before drifting into some post-rock rhythmic moves tapered with delicate percussive guidance from Steve Shelley. "Improvisation Ajoutée" reaches further out into dissolve with whirring oscillations, guitars hissing and clanking radiator-style in a short blast format that continues into "Tremens" and a spooked-out landscape of gelatinous notes snaking up slowly. The sparseness of attack is colorful, textures emit and linger, silent spots shine, all flanked by tasteful drumming that provides the thread to all the abstraction. Shelley's approach here is interestingly sideways to any kind of usual rock action, it's tempered, mutant and metronomic simultaneously. The finale track "Mieux: De Corrosion" is a real pedal-palatte showcase. Here, Plutonian guitar wash flanges upwards to buoy a myriad of colorful eruptions of amp-spuzz, chopped up tone blasts and general confusion. Out of the blue, some metallic one-note choogle kicks in and threatens to explode into some Judas Priestly motion, before it all sputters into aural glass showers, clang, and finally a ferocious wave of more flange hiss that crashes down on a dime.

This initial foray into SY's Perspectives Musicales series continued onward with releases featuring other co-conspirators, peaking with the ambitious 2CD Goodbye 20th Century that finally connects the band into full-on interpretations of other composers' pieces (as well as displaying their own new ones). The whole series is not so much an outlet for another "side" of the band, but a run that went hand in hand building new approaches of songcraft onto their own, more overground direction which included Jim O'Rourke (who hopped on during SYR3), adding additional density to A Thousand Leaves and other LPs of his era. Fans of the '86 Spinhead Sessions as well as the recently-exhumed later jams of In/Out/In will take in the sounds of SYR1 with glee.

Unfettered by studio time limitations with their own home base of Echo Canyon, SYR 2 shows Sonic Youth chasing the shadows of predecessor SYR 1 and the series' distinct aesthetic: total exploration of freedom and further discovery. While the cover art evokes European contempo classical releases of yore, Sonic Youth distinctively reinvent their own personal output potential the way those kinds of records revolutionized a previously defined genre. Their ethos of utilizing the roots of the Ramones, Television, VU, Stooges, and No Wave to shape their first decade now find the band in later years bullet-pointing fascination in AMM, MEV, improvised music, free jazz and other outer-limit/organic refractions of traditional rock. While Sonic Youth's spontaneous-creation moments had long been showcased in their recordings, Peel Sessions, and live, SYR 2 sums up the band's state in 1997: rolling lots of tape, fine-tuning ideas and presenting great moments of exciting new directions, allowing deep-listener type fans to gain better insight into their sound process. Add to that the alchemy of Jim O'Rourke's gradual entry into the core band which would soon be fully on display for SYR 3, and this series is an X-ray of evolution, dissection and reconstruction.

Red Vinyl. Since emerging in 2015, Sextile have been a party-provoking force on the LA underground, capable of kicking up a riot with the raw-edged squall of a synth or the sharp-elbowed jerk of a guitar. Sextile are now ready to rage with a serotonin-boosting new album, a new group dynamic, faster BPMs, and an even wilder new direction. Recorded in Yucca Valley, Push bounces and bops at the fringes of hardcore dance music, with the hallmarks of drum & bass, gabber and trance illuminating the record like glowsticks at a `90s Fantazia rave. "Contortion" introduces the album with shadowy vocals from Keehn and a `00s-ready twist of dirty electro bass, setting the tone for the dance-punk rave-up that unfolds across 11 attention-grabbing tracks. There's plenty of historic teen angst and biting social commentary written into the album's vivid tales and misadventures. Balancing storytelling with face- melting synths that turn the tune into an acid trance character study, "No Fun" is penned from the perspective of a teenager trying to flee their town. A punk spirit underscores the album. The clue's in the name with "Crassy Mel," which partly serves as a high-energy dedication to `70s anarcho-punk legends Crass . The track's headbang - ing heft, vocal yelping, and Prodigy -shaped breakbeats accentuate the album's overwhelming sense of fun. Plus, the dreamy ambient wash at the end of the song is the ultimate palate- cleanser. Push was inspired by the kind of pleasure-seeking music fans whose social calendar comprises both the punk show and the rave. Josh Wink, Iggy Pop, Goldie, and early XL Recordings have all been namechecked as influences on Push , and the dancefloor remains a constant pres - ence. Repping their place of origin, "New York" brings these musical touchstones off the page, guiding the album like an acid-soaked lodestar with its grinning nod to "Higher State of Consciousness" and a whirlygig of music-box synths. There are still nods and "hellos" to the caustic post-punk of Sextile's earlier work. Sextile haven't relinquished their punk credentials, they've just given them a smiley-faced revamp.

"Waxwork Records is honored to present the release of the Original Motion Picture Soundtrack to George A. Romero’s horror classic, NIGHT OF THE LIVING DEAD. Written, filmed, and released in 1968 by a rag tag group of Pittsburgh based misfits, NIGHT OF THE LIVING DEAD is an American independent horror film that follows the story of seven people trapped in a rural farmhouse that is besieged by a large and growing group of living dead ghouls. The film is regarded as a cult classic by critics, film scholars, and fans and has garnered critical acclaim. The film has been selected by the Library Of Congress for preservation in the National Film Registry and is deemed “culturally, historically, and aesthetically significant”.

Filmed and released on a shoestring budget, NIGHT OF THE LIVING DEAD became a smashing success earning over 250 times its budget. The film is a first of its kind and ushered in a new way of writing, directing, and filming horror films. The overused script of romantic, fantastical tales of otherworldly monsters and creatures was completely flipped and tossed aside by visionary George A. Romero. As the film’s writer and director, Romero created a new, obvious threat, and one that is universally recognizable - Our very own neighbors. Due to an unseen force beyond man’s control, the recently deceased arise from the dead in seek of living human victims. These ghouls kill and feast upon the flesh of their victims, and the only way of stopping them is by destroying their brains.

From 2015 to 2018, Waxwork Records worked closely with the remaining members of the independent production company that made NIGHT OF THE LIVING DEAD, Image Ten, to produce a definitive soundtrack album featuring all music from the film. Much of the film’s music was thought to be lost or destroyed but was located in its entirety and faithfully restored and re-mastered for vinyl. This special release of NIGHT OF THE LIVING DEAD features the complete soundtrack, double LP “Black & White Hand Poured” colored vinyl, all new artwork by Robert Sammelin, a booklet featuring never before seen production photos, liner notes by Daniel Kraus (co-author of THE SHAPE OF WATER with Guillermo Del Toro), liner notes by Night Of The Living Dead’s dialogue recorder and sound engineer, Gary Streiner, and deluxe packaging."

Who is Isabelle Lewis, anyway?

What kind of music does she make? Is she an opera singer? Does she write pop songs? Does she compose ethereal ambient soundscapes? Does she play chamber music on the violin? Is she producing dark, electronic beats?

Well… yes. But Isabelle Lewis is not so much a person as a project. Isabelle’s debut album, Greetings, credits a trio of composer–performers at its heart: producer Valgeir Sigurðsson, vocalist Benjamin Abel Meirhaeghe, and violinist Elisabeth Klinck. The sound of the elusive Isabelle Lewis is heard most clearly in the push and pull between them, the three-way tension that gives the album its musical and emotional drive.

Each of the three brings more to the collaboration than those epithets might imply. Elisabeth’s solo performance practice incorporates composition, improvisation, live electronics, and a close command of bowing and fingering techniques that make her fiddle sing, whisper or whistle as required. Benjamin is a self-taught countertenor - keening, crooning, and swelling to a voluptuous sensuality—but also an interdisciplinary stage director and performer. Well known for his work as a producer and studio collaborator, and as a composer of scores for film and stage, Valgeir’s solo discography interweaves meticulously crafted electronics, drones, noise, and other digital elements with acoustic instruments and vocals recorded with naked, unflinching clarity.

But the extravagant theatricality Benjamin brings to the aptly titled “Drama”—also featuring a heroic violin solo from Elisabeth—grapples against the thudding bass of the implacable digital backdrop. On “Mother, Shelter Me” Valgeir’s austere and detailed production throws the hushed violin and vocals into stark relief. The result is an exquisitely uncanny juxtaposition of past and present, human and mechanical, like a Rococo treasure viewed under cold fluorescent lights, or an 18th-century automaton slowly opening its clockwork eyes.

Even the lyrics seem somehow out of time. On “O Solitude,” Benjamin goes so far as to quote an entire song by the first great English opera composer, Henry Purcell, verbatim. No stranger to Purcell’s music, which has made its way into Benjamin’s theatrical productions as well, here Isabelle Lewis removes Purcell’s melodies and harmonies and sets the text, Katherine Phillips’s 17th century translation of a poem by Antoine Girard de Saint-Amant, to new music whose heightened, archaic character nevertheless seems haunted by Baroque ghosts.

Throughout the album, the outsized emotions and timeless archetypes of Benjamin’s lyrics feel like relics from some half-forgotten past—from the neatly rhymed couplets of “Fisherman,” a seemingly straightforward (but still somewhat askew) character study, to the abstraction of “Moonshell,” whose words seem like the fragments of some ancient, lost lament. It is just another of many ways in which Isabelle Lewis carefully distorts the listener’s notions of time. On a more micro level, time can stop for a moment of weightless, drifting ambience, and then plunge forward as the cloud of harmonies suddenly lock into tempo with the drop of the bass or the change of a chord. Or else that weightless moment is allowed to be, as in the aptly named prologue and epilogue to these Greetings (“Voicemail”/“…and farewell”), or in the interstitial tracks that bind the album together, connecting its dramatic peaks with expanses of meditative stasis.

The album as a whole is elegantly shaped, swelling from an intimate, interpersonal statement into something deeper and more spacious. The first half of the album leans slightly towards self-contained pop songcraft and ticking beats, while side B jumps off from “O Solitude” into the almost symphonic grandeur of songs like “Moonshell” or the instrumental “Not the water, air, or the dirt.”

But as it progresses, the contrasts only grow more sublime: antique and postmodern, human and machinelike. The ominous weight of the droning sub-bass and trombone (guest player Helgi Hrafn Jónsson) only makes the interplay between vocals and violins (guest player Daniel Pioro joining Elisabeth) seem more delicate and vulnerable. The ethereal string tremolos of “Moonshell” seem to pull against the heavy, shuddering electronics and layers of crooning vocals.

And that, in short, is where you will find Isabelle Lewis. Like an ancient stone archway, or a delicate house of cards, the architecture of Greetings is held together by the tension between opposing forces. Not just in Elisabeth’s playing, Benjamin’s singing, or Valgeir’s arrangements and production but in the conflict and contrast that generates the synergy between them.

Oh—Isabelle says hi, by the way. She’s looking forward to meeting you.

Producer, designer, publisher, filmmaker, all-round scene phenom - Lasse Marhaug returns with his first album since relocating from Oslo to the Arctic Circle, surveying his 35-year career for a set of grizzled, doom-pocked rhythms and foghorn drones pulled from the aether. Expansive and hard to categorise, it's a precision-tooled set of ice-cold tonal productions that heavily lean into Mika Vainio’s rhythm experiments, with extra levels of growling bass and curious noises to send us deep into the uncanny.

Lasse Marhaug has put his mark on literally hundreds of albums - working with artists like Jenny Hval, Merzbow, Jim O'Rourke, Kevin Drumm, Hilary Woods - so many others - yet he still regards himself as a primarily visual artist who got diverted into an occasionally different path. If his last album 'Context' was a kiss goodbye to decades of life in Oslo, 'Provoke' turns a new page, but one that draws heavily from memories of the distant past, reflecting on the way the topographies of Norway's frozen north helped shape his creative worldview. Weaving electronics into environmental recordings captured in the bleak Arctic winter, the album was mixed during the Polar night season, when, for two straight months, the sun never rose past the horizon. Somehow, even at its bleakest, Marhaug avoids the usual aesthetic signifiers for this kinda thing, finding elements of queered beauty in all the severity, juxtaposing elements that shine a bright light on all the odd spaces in-between.

A consideration of noise music's place in 2024, and whether it can still be a tool for subversion when its aesthetics have been so commodified, ‘Provoke’ also refernces an experimental '70s Japanese art magazine that attempted to define a new language for photography. Operating somewhere between these two guiding poles, Lasse feels his way through a subtly altered mode of expression, a new approach to familiar concepts. Album opener ‘Plates’, for example, gives it the full Ø treatment, like some exceptional ‘Oleva’-outtake, but , eventually, shards of interference start to exhale like horses blowing, creating uncanny sensations that hit through ambiguous feeling rather than sheer noise terror. Ritualistic, corporeal - hard to know what you’re listening to and why it makes you feel that certain way - so much more than just machine cycles optimised for their ultimately hollow brutalist aesthetic.

Marhaug paints vivid pictures from a carefully chosen palette, drawing us into a soundworld that's rich with contradictions and contrasts. Even the relatively deafening 'New Topographics' offsets its wall of distortion with a muffled, perforating kick drum, cutting into the noise like a knife through butter. And all of this preparation makes the album's lengthy centrepiece 'Monochrome Head' even more impactful; hinging on a Pan Sonic-like alloy of bass and drums, the track snowballs through tempered feedback and improv scrapes and whistles that pick up into an orchestral din. Marhaug accents the bluster with rhythmic hums that gather in momentum until they're almost oppressively heavy, as if everything's about to collapse.

A masterclass in quietly subversive world-building, 'Provoke' invites us to peer at an expansive sonic landscape and marvel at its intricacies, but this time around there's a Lovecraftian behemoth lurking somewhere beneath its icy surface.

"We could go so far as to say that it is the human condition to be grotesque, since the human animal is the one that does not fit in, the freak of nature who has no place in the natural order and is capable of re-combining nature's products into hideous new forms." So reckoned Mark Fisher in 'The Weird And The Eerie', which chronicled the means by which the uncanny can enter the everyday. Mwg Drwg, the second album from South Wales psychic seers Obey Cobra, is an album that dwells in exactly this kind of headspace, where the otherworldly meets the kitchen sink. Always a band who've sought out new dimensions to explore via their trademark warped post-punk, electronic and industrial influences, Obey Cobra have crafted surreal new shapes here. Taking influences as diverse as Diane Arbus, David Lynch and Sonic Youth, they balance out heaviosity and grace on the likes of the majestically discordant 'Ten Of Wands' Elsewhere, on the title track, the band sculpt a Jesus Lizard-esque rhythmic pulse, eerie vocal abstraction and the crepuscular downtempo atmosphere of Massive Attack's Mezzanine into a uniquely haunting dreamscape. Mwg Drwg is where the weird and eerie are amplified to intimidating proportions It's where grotesquely and beauty happily cohabit. It's an aural exorcism of William Friedkin proportions that demands your immediate attention.